I was first introduced to glitch/stutter effects through that ridiculous Jonny Greenwood video a
number of years ago. [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OjV9dud_NY0] For years in the back of my
head I puzzled over an application for such musical cacophony. I mean it is an over the top freakout
for peak climactic moments in a performance where the music seems that it cannot rave-up any
further.
Cool, that’s a one trick pony, right? Well, not at all. It came together when I realized the potential for
this sort of effect to dice up familiar gentle sounds, in an uncomfortable yet beautiful way. I was
reminded of an effect my friend and guitarist Paul Rigby (Neko Case, Garth Hudson) asked me for,
something that sounded and intermittent like broken cable. Having spent time listening to Paul play.
The economy, restraint and subtlety that he plays with fits almost within the subconscious of music in
such a way that when he’s not playing everything sounds naked and vacant. There’s something here
for these applications...
OK, glitch. I wondered if there was a cultural context for this sort of effect, something in history that
would do this unintentionally… Something from the human experience, like the echo effect humans
have experienced for eons when shouting in a canyon… Yup! One of the most frustrating
experiences you may remember if you are old enough to have had one of those portable CD players
that do not have pre-read buffers!!
I see technology as the optimistic push through the limitations of existing paradigms: limitations in
materials, processes, functionality, cost, and foresight. With each spearhead of technology, the
limitations of incumbents are resolved. All too often, a slew of new issues are introduced that the
marketplace is willing to overlook, at least for a short period of time. It isn’t too long before the
marketplace demands better, and is willing to abandon the past and pay for the next-generation
solution. Within a period of 125 years we’ve seen the evolution of recorded media go from wax
cylinder phonograph, to tape, to digital.
Somewhere along the way, creatives exploit and embrace the way that limitations of technologies
impose themselves. Imposing their ways much like a collaborator would, a creative will often find
themselves in a love/hate relationship that they can’t imagine living without. What is the reason that
musicians still use tape-based echo devices in an age where digital is nearly technically “perfect”?
Wow and flutter, limited fidelity, and distortion are the hallmarks of tape technology that were
engineered out over time, but musicians still often prefer tape because it adds “character” to their
sound. So I got to thinking, “What are the artifacts of other antiquated technologies that have merit in
a musical context? If David Byrne can find a way to use Powerpoint in an artistic way, why can’t we
create a pedal that intentionally embraces technological limitations that musicians haven’t widely
utilized?”
The CD Discman! There was a magical period of my youth where I could take select parts of my CD
collection with me while I drove around Japan. It was particularly profound because my soundtracks
were carefully curated selections. All it required: a portable CD player, a stockpile of AA batteries,
and a ⅛” to cassette rig. The problem was that my portable CD player didn’t have read-forward
buffering; if I hit a bump, so did the seamless experience of my soundtrack. At the time, it was very
frustrating to be interrupted right when the music was about to rock, but in hindsight, that frustration
was of the sort that I would never experience again. I began to explore the possibilities of putting this
frustration in a pedal. I put some Alva Noto & Ryuichi Sakamoto on and wrote the software for what
would become the CSIDMAN.
-Nicholas Harris