Do you know this feeling: you wake up with a melody in your ears, a beautiful, unique song. And while you are trying to capture it (with a notation if you can scores, humming if you have a recording device near your pillow), this unearthly music vanishes, being overlayered by everyday sounds, thoughts, and needs.
And you realize you were the only one person who could listen to this melody. Nobody else in this world. Because it was inside your dreams.
Then you are deluged by the melancholy of happiness. Happiness — because you are the lucky one to experience this harmonious sensation. Melancholy — because you won’t be able ever to share it with somebody.
Entering the epoche of Artificial Intelligence, you can. Well, it isn’t quite your dream, it’s a dream of a machine. But you can embrace its uniqueness and share it with the world.
That is what I love in JukeBox:
But let’s forget technology for a while. Because of the Music in the Air.
JukeBox produces unique music pieces. There are neither musicians nor composers, nor scores. You are literally witnessing the birth of sound. Sure, JukeBox is trained on more than a million songs, but it composes new melodies, new texts (even if not understandable), new sounds, new genres.
But I also want to present them in my way. And I wonder, how will you interpret this music — in your way. Surely you will hear something I’ve missed. Or recognize something I couldn’t.
Join me on our travel to another world. You are probably the first who listen to these sounds.
#1. Unknown realms
Imagine a black box. You have no clue what to expect. You open this box, and then… something unexplainable happens.
This was my first JukeBoxed soundscape — and its eerie atmosphere spelled a cast over me. A male voice, speaking in an unknown language, with a bitter, nostalgic note in his intonation. As if a world collapsed and he remembers the past. And then a fruitful color explosion of harps and flavors, and a woman sings about an unknown culture…
Like a soundtrack to a documentary about a vanished world, reflecting in memory splitters…
#2. Long Road Home
It’s a freedom-loving folk song, bright like the sun in the prairie, loud like your old car’s motor, vast like the long road home. The ending reminds me of some famous songs, with many vivid modulations. Can you help me with this, please?
And text — well, again, it’s like mimicking English. But I bet you don’t need to understand the book — you can understand the song. It’s about borderless freedom.
#3. Secret frequency
If you had in your childhood a short wave receiver, if you were “hams” or amateur radio operators, and were surfing the wave long before the internet was born, you might stumble upon number stations, foreign broadcasts, and just weird sounds sending from all over the world.
Imagine a moment, you find a sender, which language you cannot comprehend. Moderators speak, laughs, interrupt each other, songs are being played, you hear foreign commercial jingles and announces — and no clue what’s going on here.
The same feeling I had here. And I was mesmerized by the authenticity of that unknown world:
#4. It’s on, and on, and on.
Another radio sender, with a catchy song about being “on”? With nice guitar and a pathetic speech.
You can feel with them. Even if you have no clue why and about what.
Let’s continue our travel across the bizarre world in the dreams of AI next time.
See you later, my friends.