An Elegy for Answering Machines

I don’t know much about ListenMachine, other than it grafts old answering machine recordings onto a gauzy, sad-guy ambient score. And that it sighs out a new and distinct sonification each time the page is refreshed. 

But that’s it. I’d like to keep it that way. Don’t tell me anything more. I don’t want to know who’s behind these far-away voices. I don’t want to know the circumstances; I’d rather fill in the empty spaces to these distant and unknown scenarios in my head and in the dark:

Hope to see you on Sunday. Really miss you, man. Been thinkin about ya.

Hello? Where are you? Your answering machine is going crazy. Give me a call.

I like to think this is what you get when you collide a recording project like the Books with a technology that’s antiquated, yes, but still very much hanging onto the cusp of obsolescence. Not too long ago, when we didn’t reach who we wanted to reach, we’d leave a few words after the beep. Just listen to what came after. 

(h/t miserablesalmon)

@thebanderson