When I was going through some papers related to an old film project stored in a carton in my basement, I found a catalog from the 1970s, listing sound effects “recorded from life on tape, then waxed” available for purchase on LP records. Apart from the introductory stanza, the lyrics of this piece are entirely a found poetry collage of sound effect titles.

I originally conceived of this work as spoken word over a backdrop of beatnik bongo and bass, but the instrumental composition gradually evolved into a dreamy dobro ballad, so the resulting vibe is more like Lawrence Ferlinghetti meets Jerry Douglas.

The use of recorded sound effects dates back to 1890, when a phonograph of a baby crying was played at a theater (or theatre) in London. Sound effects became increasingly more prevalent in the 20th century, utilized in radio broadcasting and movie soundtracks. Some sound effects have become famous, such as “the Wilhelm scream”, recorded for the 1951 movie Distant Drums. The original title of the recording was "Man getting bit by an alligator, and he screams." Since then, it has been featured in hundreds of movies and television shows, including Star Wars and Toy Story.

From the perspective of my current gig as a cognitive behavioral neurologist, I would like to point out that functional MRI studies have demonstrated that imagining a sound activates similar regions in the brain as hearing a sound, and that visual imagery likewise activates similar regions as visual perception. Perhaps you are pondering (as I often do), what is the sound of a viscount passing by (in a forest, if nobody hears it)? It is whatever you imagine it to be.

I invite you to close your eyes (unless you are actually reading the lyrics) and imagine the sounds that the lyrics evoke, and then envision the narrative images elicited by those imaginary sounds. If the spirit moves you, please feel free to get up and perform an interpretive dance (in which case I would recommend that you open your eyes to avoid injury).