The Disintegration Loops

I've always needed to listen to music when writing. Either on a stereo at home, or with earphones when I'm out and about. I feel it cuts out distractions: the sound of traffic outdoors, next door having sex or another argument, that accidental peak in volume in a library when two people are trying their best to talk quietly but suddenly get excited. I'm easily distracted so it helps me to concentrate, especially music without a verse/chorus structure, or lyrics. Recently I've developed more interest in electronic music, soundtracks, and ambient music, though I find stuff with a tempo or a droning rhythm works better for me than stuff without. A few months ago I read a review of a re-issue of William Basinski's The Disintegration Loops on Pitchfork and I've listened to it while writing almost every day since.

The Disintegration Loops is a series of four albums by American composer William Basinski released in 2002 and 2003. All tracks have the same form of ambient music fragments played in a tape loop that slowly deteriorates as it passes by the tape head, increasingly producing noises and cracks in the music as the theme progresses. The Disintegration Loops is based on Basinski's attempts to salvage earlier recordings made on magnetic tape, by transferring them into digital format; however, the tape had deteriorated to the point that, as it passed by the tape head, the ferrite detached from the plastic backing and fell off. The loops were allowed to play for extended periods as they deteriorated further, with increasing gaps and pauses in the music. These sounds were treated further with a reverb effect.

The music itself, although physically of a very simple nature, is full of tiny quirks and interactions, all entirely accidental, but beautiful and organic for such a reason. It conjures up images of energy and spirits floating around, interacting with each other, with a central pulse throughout the piece sounding almost like a choir singing in an incomprehensible tongue. In a different sense I'm reminded of My Bloody Valentine's finale during live performances, where they build feedback upon feedback at a deafening volume, to the extent that one's brain begins to invent a musicality that isn't there to help process the violent assault of noise. The Disintegration Loops is by no means an assault on the senses in the same way, but the complexities of the piece are almost entirely the invention of one's own mind, inviting us to pass into the world of the music and meditate. Or write.

Much in the same way that an old, broken watch has more meaning and power to it if you realise said watch belonged to a heroic fighter pilot, or a hawaiian shirt belonged to a disgraced public figure, so The Disintegration Loops hold an incredible amount of energy and power when you consider the backstory. The project was completed the day of 9/11, and Basinski sat in New York with his friends listening to these loops as the smoke from the two fallen towers filled the sky.