uncommon ambience

Early morning (3-6am) bird chatter ambience — So I live in a metropolitan area within a town next to a highway… Actually let me start a different way; what we perceive individually as silence, is nowhere near reality. I've learned this having stupidly rushed to interesting natural sound-makers like brooks and falls, only to realize later these sound-maker's proximity to vehicular traffic, tarnished my recordings.When I recorded in the Mad River Valley (Vt) last year I found a few stunning waterfalls cascading delightfully. The bustling fall leaves and their aromas filling the air, the gushing of clean water moving naturally. I would embarrass myself on a naked and alone program, but I can still appreciate spaces like this. I recorded it all with my microphone. And when I listened later I was downcast, I never perceived the cars rushing by twenty feet away. RVs and motorcycles, and small trucks — they were loud as ******* hell. ****** us as a species--All of this to say that I would love to hand you something that might have been recorded on the Sound of Music mountain with my Mid-Atlantic bird buddies, and only that. Alas, there will be some far off vehicular stuff joining our feathery friends (it's not too bad I just wish this was more Jack London than Jack ****** Handey). Speaking of Jack London, I'm not entirely sure what birds we are hearing. In recent days I have seen a red bird and then shouted “OMG, we have a Cardinal!” and days later saw a blue bird and “OMG, we have Blue Jays!” I saw a Robin too but didn't shout “hey, everyone, the ubiquitous bird!”Sound off in the comments if you are an ornithologist (Throw your hands in the sky!)! What are these birds? Have you ever set up a 50-foot-net? Do you make bank?  Original Photo used in episode cover by Physical Pixel

Waterfall, pink noise, ambience. Go ahead and chase waterfalls for eight hours, you may feel better. You may feel better if — is irregardless a legit word? I had beans for breakfast.

Godfather 3 stormy kitchen ambience — “Just When I Thought I Was Out, They Pull Me Back In!” We're back at the movies and in a kitchen after a bloody helicopter attack. It's stormy, and dinner is happening, and everything feels tense because everyone almost just died (this scene).I am a Godfather 3 apologist. Aside from how awesome the sound design is in this and the other trilogy films, I love the exploration of a man who tries to emancipate himself from his own cruel and ruthless past. Especially when we are talking about a man who is one the of scariest characters in film.Yes, Godfather Part III feels like the Godfather movie Brian De Palma secretly made… Yes it is a tremendous jump from the cold and cunning Michael to suburbanite-ish Michael. These movies are horror films, they invite us into some pretty grim places. A missteps here could lead to a grisly end. You might go for a fishing trip in the fading sunlight when a gun appears from off screen. Beautifully wrapped pastries are dangerous. Somehow toll booths can become more sinister. Someone in the trilogy winds up sleeping with a disembodied horse head.Who do you even root for in the Altobello v. Connie v. cannoli?Psh—why am I even getting apologist? I love Godfather Part III and not just because of that Mobb Deep banger.This week I had my own “they're pulling me back in” moment after having a copy/ paste issue between Premiere and After Effects (CC2025). Having long ago worked in tech support for non-linear editing compositors, I suddenly found myself back trying to diagnose my own issue. Because Adobe does not give a ****.Adobe has created a bubble for themselves, they can make drastic changes in program behaviors, and unless you have some special tiered support package you will have no way of contacting these ******** but for a Lord of the Flies reddit wannabe where users answer questions for digital badges. I'm mixing my movie metaphors—Adobe Community… let the fans sort it out for themselves like Mary and Vincent? Actually strike that too. ZAAAAAASAAAAAA

Rain on a pot ambience — Ok so it got cloudy out and I checked my weather app — and that **** said rain and I wanted to try another pot in the yard experiment... So I put a microphone under a lobster pot and ran (because it was raining). So if you walked by my house the other day, that is why there was an upside-down lobster pot on the sidewalk.The resulting sounds are pretty interesting, so much so that Spotify initially thought I was trying to sneak music onto their podcast app and smacked it with a violation. Fortunately after appeal we are back. (Also -- Spotify's customer service is astronomically better than adobe's — had to go through both this week)

“What's this?!” She gestured widely to the sink stacked with most of our pots and pans.“Oh, yeah…” I had awoken late having disabled my alarm for a laissez faire, let the Earth (or my bladder) wake me, morning. I hadn't left a note and I can see now that I had inadvertently breached the dishes-need-to-be-done-now sink coverage.“No wonder your daughter has been hiding in her room all morning,” she said, apparently realizing the same thing.  “It was just an experiment, they're not, too dirty.”“An experiment? Then why didn't you put them all back in the cabinet?”“Well…” I obviously couldn't tell the truth. There wasn't a “sorry” powerful enough to follow explaining how all of her Williams-Sonoma were positioned in the mud and grass so I could set up my microphone to record the rain pattering all over them. “…just an experiment.”“Were you cooking… pasta?” “No.”“Then why is my new sauce pan dirty?”“It's…”“When did we buy a wok?” 

With apologies to Ann Peebles and fellow Virginian Missy Elliot; I can stand the rain against my window, it does not haunt me. Get on my window oh moderate rain for eight hours.

Star Trek: The Original Series — we're on TV this week and on our way to Sector Z-6 to breach the neutral zone and travel into the Romulan Star empire. But first we cruise… As we try not to think about someone possibly taking a dump on the other side of the view screen. (Whaaaat?)So as I was doing research for building the TOS Enterprise bridge (Photoshop and After Effects) — I ran across a blog that ponders whether the bridge itself is rotated 36 degrees. So the folks on the bridge face 36 degrees port. What, why? The blog includes a blueprint of the Enterprise bridge that shows not only is the bridge looking to the port side of the Enterprise, there is a toilet just to the right of the view screen. If you're sitting on the toilet you will be the only person facing the front of the ship. Just process that, presumably someone was relieving themselves as the Enterprise initiated first visual contact with the Romulans. And that dude or lady was seated facing the actual front of the ship. Presumably when the Enterprise fights General Chang in the Battle of Khitomer, someone could have been relieving themselves as the ship was pummeled with torpedoes and Shakespeare. As the crew looked for signs of a cloaked ship in the view screen, someone just to the right could have been dropping off a ****. Amazing.And I know the later example is a new Enterprise and maybe the powder room isn't in the same spot. Let me have this. CRYHAVOOOOC

Theater projection booth ambience — the feature film is Five Minutes to Live from 1961 and starring Johnny Cash and Ron Howard. This episode also includes just about everything else I loved of that era in theater and film. There will be the pre-movie sirens call for Lobby refreshment and money back guarantees for those who have gotten too much suspense from Hitchcock's Homicidal. And some Gregory Peck greats as we're treated to trailers for Guns of Navarone and On the Beach (which still feels pretty fresh for our turbulent world, unfortunately).Take a mental break in the projection booth… Just don't forget to look out for the cue dots.This episode's cover uses an original photo by Diego Ramirez.

New washing machine, normal wash setting. And hey, this is a sequel of sorts to the ⁠infinity dryer episode a couple episodes ago.⁠ Our old washer/ dryer had to be replaced after a belt snapped. Our washer dry was so old it could remember when McDonald's tried Pizza. There were only three Star Wars movies when our washer/ dryer were working on socks and sheets. I think I mentioned most of this in the last details. I'm really just typing until this episode description looks long enough to appear thoughtful. Your mind will just see these well fed paragraphs and be like this doofus is probably insightful but I'm not going to double check by reading anything. And what would there be to say aside from I stuck a microphone up to the washing machine window and pressed record? Oh! I do like the font, Capitana used on the episode cover, it has a really fun 80s feel that is really showcased in how it handles numerals — only other thing I have going on is the visual ambience channel on youtube (give us a subscribe)!

Watery whirring faucet machine — This week's episode revolves around a mystery, but I promise it's not made out of people. It's just a whirring watery wonder.

LG Dryer Cycle — A better title for this would be, "our dyer that dated back to the Clinton administration kicked the bucket." We limped along for years with that thing whining. Literally, it needed a belt replacement and it was covid times and we were like… the squealing noises aren't that terrible…  And last month the belt snapped and we sent that old pos to Valhalla.

Mild thunderstorm and a lot of rain — this recording begins Sunday night around 11-ish. And we got nowhere near the boomers our friends on the other side of the Appalachian Trail got. West Virginia looked like a sky disco for the most of the evening (from NOVA). But a thunderstorm is a thunderstorm and we break for thunderstorms here at uncommon ambience.

Rainy night/ car interior—There are two 80s songs that are my absolute nemesis. Songs dealt to me over the radio by guys like Casey Kasem and Rick Dees on our way to or back from church. (How Rick Dees survived the 90s and early aughts onslaught of “nuts” hurled at his name is beyond me).Two songs appear in my head regularly and must be sung aloud to satisfy a tic.“On the Wings of Love,” by Jeffrey Osborne inexplicably (I didn't own the album) appears in my head daily. I only ever heard the song sandwiched between copy or commercials on Sunday mornings in 1982. I'm not sure “On the Wings of Love” ever peaked any top tens. Yet if my life were to be played off in my willing and unwilling musical obsessions, “On the Wings of Love” would be #1. Sigh.Number two is “I Love a Rainy Night,” and that ***** hit #1 on those important top musical charts that I'm just realizing I have no idea how they're measured. Okay, I'm looking at Billboard Hot 100 on Wikipedia and it says “rankings are based on sales (physical and digital), online streaming, and radio airplay in the U.S.” I feel like that could be juiced on the streaming and radio side to tilt numbers, right? Actually why am I conspiracy-ing this I have no idea what I'm talking about and who cares.Why wouldn't “I Love a Rainy Night” appear in my head every time it is both raining and nighttime? The song is literally about loving a crying night sky. And it's snappy af.I, too, love a rainy night.

Steam Radiator Ambience — I went to military school in South Carolina in the 90s, it was a bit like Harry Potter sans magic and the Forbidden Forest. We did have impossibly large roaches that appeared in our dorms and they would have befriended Hagrid.Like Hogwarts, our school dorms were ancient, built before world wars. No air conditioning, and steam Radiators in every room. The radiators would come to life in the middle of the night hissing their parseltongues. And I got used to it.

Empty office ambience — I see this episode as like: you're in your crowded workspace and you want everyone to disappear. Look, work isn't usually ever great — but being the first one to the Slack channels or the Powerpoint decks feel a little freeing when no one is looking over your ****** shoulders.Or I think you could use this ambience while working from home; to get that cacophony of electric hums you might be missing. Oh, you could be a fan of that MAX Severance show (or HBO, whatever).I guess you could sleep to office ambience... Just don't drag a cot into your workplace like a ****** lunatic.

Pink noise/ rain ambience — Look, this episode has nothing to do with creator of the Batdance. And yes I was hoping for an unearned second glance just by typing out “purple” and “rain” in a title bar.Gawd I do love theBatman album (changes subject) and how it captures the expensive, unhinged feel of Gotham City. The best comic book movie soundtrack. TheI'm Breathless “soundtrack” comes close — but if it's a bunch of inspired by, not in the movie it is not a soundtrack. (Yet also “Vogue” is on the album). Whatever. This week's episode is pink noise and rain which I hope will be a relaxing combination of sounds that pair well with readinga long article about the Batman album or the dishes.

Star Wars/ Empire Strikes Back Ambience. This episode covers a regular day of work on a Star Destroyer. I have to imagine there were some less exciting days for the denizens of the futuristic space Harry Potter franchise, Star Wars.  Empire screws had to dismount from their bunks and get to their boring jobs and hope not to piss off Vader or any other weird space wizards. We're back at the movies this week for Empire Strikes Back (1980, based on scenes like these). This episode is a flight before Empire figures out the Rebel Alliance are hiding on Hoth. Your tauntaun will freeze before you reach the first marker. THEN I'LL SEE YOU IN HELL!

Snowfall from interior of car. It wasn't even a long storm... And it was three days ago... but they closed school anyway.

Writing/ classroom ambience. How do I say, "Enjoy 8 hours of testing ambience?" The thought of testing conjures up traumas of past educational failures. And I'm not talking about having the test slapped on the desktop before me with "F" scratched out in red marker. I'm talking "permanent record" here. My invisible collection of abject failures that I was led to believe followed me everywhere. I imagined a shadow network that handed off my permanent record wherever I went. There would be a back room with a filing cabinet waiting to temporarily house it. Where it waited for me to screw up. I still feel its presence today. There may be some backroom in my house my family hasn't warned me of. Perhaps the neighbors are some kind of "Adjustment Bureau" for my CATs, SATs, and ACTs. So, yeah, no — this ambience isn't about a make or break test. Let's imagine we're in class, and everyone else is studious because they're so smug about going somewhere in this world. And we are at the back of the class drawing Too Much Coffee Man or writing an amazing short story while everyone is being ambitious.  And for me, it wasn't an amazing short story. It was a **** short story that was only short because I couldn't figure out how to get my awesome Mack Bolan-esque character out from the clutches of the cartel's trap deep in a jungle. (Which was totally stolen from Clear and Present Danger). "There's nowhere left to run, Blaze Tower," said the short man grasping a half-smoldered cigar. This was Blaze Tower's nemesis, a man everyone called Martillo (to be played by Miguel Sandoval in the inevitable movie). Martillo had been responsible for the death of Blaze's family; they had been bystanders in a park. A picnic turned to panic by errant crossfire and totally ripped off from Frank Castle's origin. (RIP my media diet in the 90s… I heard my parents regularly remark, "At least he's reading something.”) Bluh—where were we? Oh yes... relaxing at the back of the class. Original photo by Pixabay

Snow and snow maintenance trucks ambience — This is the January 5,6 storm over Northern Virginia. Listen to the gut-punch storm that forced us to spend another week with our children.  Yes, I know that sounds terrible, but we had already been back to work, and these little free-loaders were "bored." Never mind, they were somehow ****** bored the day after Santa Claus' capitalistic ride of philanthropy.  And we had made it to the end. The children were going back to school in two days.  And then the universe dumped an unimpressive amount of snow on us. I'm not sure you could impress a South Carolinian with 〜seven inches of snow.  Look — obviously, I understand closing school Monday. I even got closing on Tuesday; we had freezing temperatures, and there were still ice patches. Wednesday, OK; take Wednesday too, for safety's sake, never mind that the roads were mostly clear. The kids were all figuring out new daredevil **** to do in the snow. I saw one kid jump off a roof. I get it, school administrators. A snow day is an unexpected break from our rotten-*** children. But Thursday felt like payback for the last ten years of scant snow closures.

Mild fan ambience—Okay, so over the holidays, we escaped our beloved children. I picked up a night at my wife's favorite ⁠local B&B⁠, which put us far enough away from the bickering stemming from being home for ****** ever from school. They were supposed to return to school tomorrow, but with a giant ****** snowstorm coming, they will probably be home for another week.

*Sleet and Ice ambience—Nature tossed an early morning meatball the day before Christmas. A steady fall of ice covered everything in a faux-white (the New England in me wouldn't grant this "White Christmas" status even if my kids were).  And yet, my holiday mind flipped through the possibilities: "Am I dreaming of a white Christmas podcast?" My prior falling ice episode was well received; let's do it again. But how? The Candy Canes were already moved to clearance aisles with the nearly-expired vitamins and other weird grocery **** like Pistachio butter or pickled cockles. And not even the old-fashioned Candy Canes; it was the sale on Starburst or Skittle canes. Any holiday podcast released on the doorstep of Christmas would feel stale. After all, this is the time of year when I start embracing the bleakness of winter without twinkling lights. The Christmas Crunch cereal and tree-shaped Reese's are 75% off. And somehow, large sections in department stores are dedicated to Valentine's Day.  This brief period of holiday hangover where every day feels like a Sunday, and most folks on social media are posting gym or business pics about "getting it" in the new year. As we stack all of our ab and financial aspirations onto a new calendar. Even though we did that last year. Look, I didn't want another Holiday episode, not after the Greyhound Bus episode sent us on a highway of mirth and merriment to Mom and the rest of our ****** family members. There was no way to fit in another elf-ish episode or holiday box fan.  Not while deductibles reset and the taxman looms. So… Happy New Year; enjoy some non-festive falling ice. (I hope y'all had/ are having a lovely holiday).

Intercity bus/ highway ambience—A Christmas Eve decades ago, I found myself braving the Port Authority in Midtown, waiting for a Greyhound to Albany. While loading, I walked fast enough to stay ahead of the folks who might be at the overbooked point. Just that Thanksgiving, I had been dawdling at the end of the line and wound up with a "Sorry, pal. It looks like you're waiting for the next bus."  That Greyhound Christmas Eve ride was years before cell phones had texting, apps, or anything resembling fun programmed into them. If you wanted to catch up on gossip or news, you had to hit the magazine stand before climbing aboard. If you were broke you were left with no shield against another passenger trying to strike up a conversation. And I was broke, so I didn't want to be near the front of the bus, where the assertive clamored for seats near the driver. Assertive people like to talk. They want to tell you about famous nephews or how they know some obscure ass state representatives and… I don't care, man. I want to be in the back where no one wants to be. No one is happy because you're closer to the toilet than the driver. At best, it smells like urinal cake. No one wants to open their mouths so much when it smells like urinal cake. Back of the bus was also ideal because I had jammed a 40 ounce down my pants. I wasn't sure if someone would check my carry-on for alcohol, so I just shoved my Steel Reserve down my oversized Wu-Wear jeans.  The guy beside me laughed while I pulled it out, and I cycled through some nervous ticks. Would he snitch? Did I open myself up to obligatory gabbing?   He raised his hand, reached into his pocket, pulled out a nip of Jack Daniels, and raised it in the air… "Cheers."  Episode image from Pixabay

The Jingle Bell box fan is back to make your holidays ****** jolly! This week's episode is white noise but festive. It'll make that Christmas dinner prep or tuning out the in-laws merry without a note from Mariah. I have to come clean about something. I regularly use an extremely inexpensive aftershave balm that smells horrible. It smells like what a kid would probably think a man would smell like—the Worcestershire sauce of aftershaves.  The inexpensive balm feels great splashed on shaved skin, but I don't know if it's worth smelling like this in public.

Santa workshop ambience (8 Hours). Oh boy, it's a Christmas movie episode! Well… we are focusing on a faux Christmas movie commercial that appears in an actual Christmas movie. This episode puts us into a busy Santa's Workshop (but does not include any terrorists or assault weapons and absolutely no harm to Reindeers).  Look, at the very beginning of the movie Scrooged (1988), the camera flies us through a snowy wonderland into a busy Santa's workshop. The elves are making toys, and Mrs. Claus hands out cookies. Then, suddenly, the workshop is under siege as RPGs rain down on the workshop. Mrs. Claus unlocks a closet of assault rifles. "Seven o'clock. Pyschos seize Santa's Workshop. And Only Lee Majors can stop them," says the announcer.   It is unhinged and my favorite start to a Christmas movie.   So Scrooged is our Christmas Eve wrapping movie these days. We had been watching Die Hard (also 1988) because it was a nice violent break from the children's shows we had to endure when our kids were awake (the Wiggles, or Caillou, that whiny little *****). But the constant one-sided argument that "Die Hard is a Christmas movie" is a trend on social media every year—that no one argues against because arguing either way is stupid.   Anyway, Scrooged is something; Bill Murray, Carol Kane, the Solid Gold Dancers, and a ton of other awesome folks are in this movie. Maybe give it a spin this holiday. PS: If there are any Mack Bolan book cover fans out there, I was trying to catch that vibe for this week's episode cover.

Hey! We're back at the movies, and this week's episode is focused on the strange and surreal taxi ride in the opening of the 1977 suspense film Suspiria. So we are driving to Escherstraße (Escher Street) in Freiuerg as the rain whips and thunder rolls (the big drum is also included but dialed back). As usual, this is ambience to relax with, so nothing frightening.  There's nothing overly frightening at the film's beginning, either. Unless you count the moment, Suzy Bannion exits the terminal, and the wind hits her in a way that makes it look like she's being attacked by a spirit. Look, I know we're far past the scary season (far enough that my youngest has already started planning next year's costume). Yet I was reminded of this classic horror film over Thanksgiving while playing an old Batman video game.  Batman: Arkham Knight (2015) was 95% off on Steam, so I bought it. I'm not a big fan of action/ adventure games; my faves are Animal Crossing and a flight passenger simulator. Yet I got totally hooked on a $5 skull-cracking button-masher (bonus: Kevin Conroy, the voice of daytime TV Batman who fought Gotham crime throughout my childhood, plays Batman). As I ate leftover turkey and sweet potato and fought crime in Gotham, I realized this was Suspiria-esque. The game's vibe felt pilfered from Suspiria in all the right ways: the odd oversaturation of color and the weird framing of characters (in Suspiria, there is a point where we focus on the back of some balding old dude's head).  And so here we are, in a cab, traveling to Escherstraße. Christmas ambience coming soon! The ballet photo used in the episode cover is from Pixabay.

Inside the oven, Thanksgiving prep ambience. If you are about to prepare a large dinner in the next few days and need to get your culinary game face on, this episode is for you. Eight hours of kitchen prep as heard from within a gas range (a perfect place for Tom or a roasted eggplant). Let this episode be your auditory affirmation that you have got this Thanksgiving dinner under control. In this episode, the relative who loves to start **** at inopportune times or have you searching for the wine bottle early will not be here. They never ring the doorbell. Imagine a big, successful dinner… cheers. Speaking of inopportune, have you ever had the urge to slap the **** out of random people? For example, you're meeting with a doctor and exchanging small talk—suddenly, your imagination has you kicking doc in the shin.   I promise I'm not a violent or mean person; these thoughts aren't welcome. I'll be having a serious conversation, and suddenly, my mind is like, “Slap this man.” Ooph. Happy Thanksgiving.

Spend an evening perched amongst the rocks overlooking the Potomac at Riverfront Park in Shepherdstown, WV.  Just below you are the sounds of Town Run as it rushes to confluence with the famous river that eventually cuts between the District of Columbia and Virginia (about 60 miles to the South and East from here).  Separately, am I the only person that likes to scream while stretching? My family told me to stop doing it — but I always thought it was normal.  I don't know how to describe the type of stretching — basically just shoving both fists out into the air and flexing everything. I just looked online to see how to describe it adequately, and I ran into an article about incorporating a daily full-body stretch routine. I will not be doing that.

City storm drain after heavy rain. Why cede the sewers to Pennywise and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (heroes in a half-shell, turtle power)? After a large storm, it can sound pretty great down there — a symphony of spluts and gurgles.  Look, obviously, no one is climbing into a drain with their futon to enjoy the sounds; because, claustrophobia. So, in this episode, we are bringing the storm drain to you. And while you're "down there," why not focus on something other than the news or your social media feed (which is just the news of the world and your family's **** takes). Go explore Edinburgh of the Seven Seas on StreetView or visit other obscure places that look temptingly off the grid. I have been obsessed with Tristan da Cunha's isolation for decades after stumbling upon her on Google Earth a few decades ago. For the longest time Tristan da Cunha has only been observable (online) from an overhead vantage; until some awesome person captured and uploaded it recently.   BTW if any of y'all live on or know an affable person that lives on a remote ass island (Adak, Amundsen–Scott South Pole Station, etc) that could record some sound to share with this show, please message me. The original photo used in the episode's cover image is by Chris F.

November Box fan in the window Ambience. Look, it's been a long week with temperatures hitting near 90° and my kids came to me pleading, like, “Dad you have to turn the air conditioning back on.” And I was like, “guys, the 7-11 across the street has a ****** wreath on the front door and a special on frosted Santa face sugar cookies.” I shoved the box fan in the window and told everyone to go to bed.

Small rocky stream ambience — Don't stress-watch cable news, you will probably learn just as much listening to gushing water through Shepherdstown, WV... Which this episode provides (recorded just off of Princes Street).  Tune out the world for a few minutes.

NASA control room, waiting for signs of Atlantis reentry; ambience. Look, if I learned anything as a kid watching SpaceCamp, it was that you do not make friends with cute robots that beep like R2D2 and don't ever sit in a space shuttle cockpit during an engine test. We have had some sinister ambience homages lately, so I figured it might be a good time to visit outer space—or at least hang out in a place anxiously awaiting communication from space. This week's episode is based on the scenes with Tom Skerritt and the guy who played Locke on Lost.

Had a request for just the static without all of that creepy (see last episode) — so it's just that smooth static without anyone or anything trying to contact the Freeling family. Tune out the world for a moment. Episode cover original photo by Huỳnh Đạt.

Poltergeist TV static. We've got one more Halloween-ish movie ambience before I start putting up all the Christmas lights. So get ready for eight hours of eerie but smooth TV static as we're visiting the TV Static scene from Poltergeist(1982). And as far as TV static goes, the Poltergeist static is super chill (minus the disembodied voices). Growing up, the static I was used to on our television was harsh and tinny. I do want to say that, as usual, there will be no jump scares or anything overly terrifying. This is a place for relaxation and tuning out a mad, mad world. This week's episode is a love letter to a favorite scary movie that somehow made televisions in the bedroom a faux pas (not to mention ripping one's face off in a vanity—don't do that).   TV static is what us fogies had to deal with during the overnight hours of cable and local television. In the old days, channels would go dark for the night; it was called sign-off. Sign-off would typically be the Star Spangled Banner with beauty shots of whatever town the TV station was based out of (although in Georgia, Ray Charles, Georgia was the far superior sign-off music). I'm assuming the Freelings went to bed watching Carson and inadvertently left open a humming static portal to the other side. The disturbed dead could apparently communicate and manifest ghostly hands from the humming static. And spoilers, this is because the dead are in the front and back yard. Lying just below the new construction of their cookie-cutter suburban community. “YOU SON OF A *****, YOU MOVED THE CEMETERY, BUT YOU LEFT THE BODIES, DIDNCHA!” Hope y'all have a safe and happy Halloween, and see you on the otherside in Christmasland.

Have you ever wanted that tense scene of a camera following Danny through the hallways of the Overlook Hotel, but for eight hours? We're back at the movies this week, and obviously, we are racing through the hallways of the Overlook Hotel.Get ready for tricycle-pumping action over carpet and wood flooring as we get tense strings and maybe random voices from the beyond. As usual, this is ambience to (ostensibly) relax with, so there will be no jump scares, yelling, or weird ladies from room 237.  

We're expounding upon the unease and urban landscape that open the director's cut of the Exorcist. Perched above the ominous stairs that lead to doom (or towards the Key Bridge and expensive shops for the rest of us), a light switches off, the bushes rustle in the wind, and then come the cymbals. It's a solid opening that proves the power of ambience — without the added sound, the visuals become voyeurism of wealthy people.   For those concerned, this week's ambience does not include jump scares, screaming, or exorcisms: just cars, people, wind, and unease. I'm leaving out my favorite funny moment from the film — I'm always tickled by (fictional) all-caps screaming (ATTICA ATTICA). The possessed shouts calling for "MERRIN!" after the priests enter the Exorcist house are undoubtedly terrifying. But imagine if Lankester Merrin's name was instead Amish Pickle. Amish Pickle would be engaging in pre-exorcist niceties in the foyer, and a blood-curdling  "PICKLE!" would fill the air. That would be great (although not as great as a Richard Pryor exorcism). And then imagine the backstory of Amish Pickle earnestly searching faraway lands for ancient evil. Finding artifacts, that's Priest Pickle, stealing from Iraq. Staring down a waving statue amidst a desert dog fight, Pickle. Happy Halloween!

Go island hopping in the South Pacific, or fly to Nantucket or some remote Alaskan village. And do it without checking your bags. This week, we are going up in a very chill prop airplane.  Whenever I fly, I'm reminded of a favorite DJ mix from the 90s, Cold Krush Cuts. It included a spoken word segment about getting into ⁠the sky and seeing your problems from a new perspective.⁠ It was the closest I ever came to an epiphany listening to danceable music. Below is the message from the mix, but I suggest ⁠you listen to it yourself.⁠ "It was about a bug who spent his entire life in the world's most beautifully designed Persian rug. All the bug ever saw in his lifetime were his problems. They stood up all around him; he couldn't see over the top of them. And he had to fight his way through the tufts of wool in the rug to find some crumb somebody had spilled in the rug. And the tragedy, of the story of the bug in the rug was this: That he lived and he died in the world's most beautifully designed rug. But he never once knew that he spent his life in something which had a pattern. That's why I want to get you up in the air tonight; to see something the old bug couldn't see in the rug. Because even he, this bug, if he had once got above the rug so he could have seen all of it, he would have discovered something: That the very things he called his problems were a part of the pattern." See y'all in the air!

Doomed fishing boat cabin ambience — We're back at the movies this week, spending an entire night searching for a great white on the Orca. The engine idles, the waves splut and gurgle, a tracking buoy bleeps in the waters just outside… (Ambience was inspired by the cabin conversation about scars and past traumas). That's right, we are off the coast of Amity Island and smack in the middle of the No Country for Old Men of fish movies: Jaws. I wouldn't want to run into either film's villains in some fictional back alley. But at least Anton Chigurh's methodical carnage was contained in realistic modern depravity and Texas. Bruce did his murders amongst the frolicking salt water taffy set on the Mackinac of Massachusetts: Martha's Vineyard.  But don't worry — Bruce and Anton are not in this episode (nor are John Williams, Richard Dreyfus, and Mr. “SmileYouSunavaBitch”). In this episode, we are expanding the background interior cabin and outdoor sounds of the Orca (from around the chat about scars).  It will be you alone on an idle little ship, waiting for a shark. Also, thank you, Kyle, for the Jaws suggestion — the original episode photo by Daniel Torobekov on Pexels.

Mad river Ambience, and you read that right. Vermont has a Mad River. It flows North toward payback and revenge. And it's a great place to swim. Spend an evening on the rocky bank listening to a small angry river gush by.

Small (and maybe the wrong waterfall) waterfall ambience — Okay, so this is my first waterfall, and I'm not psyched about misnaming my first waterfall ambience. But here's the deal. My buddy, Ed, was like, “Yo, you have to check out Moss Glen Falls. They make Warren Falls look like some ****.” So I consulted Google and was served this. “Yeah, that does makes Warren Falls look like some ****.” So I brought my microphone up to Vermont and drove to the falls. And… the bridge was out. The footbridge had been damaged by weather and had some “keep out” -ish signage.  I was bummed but undeterred. I could see the falls back in the woods (from this vantage point, looking to the right of the bridge). These falls looked less impressive (see episode cover image) than the pictures the internet had fed me — yet, I've online dated before, and I know the drill between Glamour Shots and reality. And it may have been a dry summer in the Green Mountains.  I noticed a collection of rocks that could lead me to the other side of the ditch so I could skip the battered bridge. My mind easily picked out the route across boulders, and I stepped one, two, and into the creek I went.  My kid laughed.  And it was worth it to capture my first waterfall. I climbed out of the creek with one sloshing leg limping the rest of the way. I set up the mic and let it roll. Later, I realized I had found some bastard Charlie Brown's Christmas tree waterfall. I should have turned left at the bridge; if I had, I would have wound up here. So… enjoy whatever these falls are called. ___________ Oh, and we're on youtube now! Come check us out.

Late night rural road and gushing water ambience. So, I have a favorite road, Route 100, in Vermont (especially from around Pico to Waterbury). And obviously, this isn't a trade secret. Route 100 needs no hype, judging by the traffic we wreak in rural Vermont. The road delivers miles of Vermont quaintness: New England churches, cute light festivals, towering trees, and rounded green mountains. Every inch is a photo op. Route 100 dominated my college years for bar and ski traffic. I used 100 when going home to the 518 or returning to Norwich University. Windows down whenever possible to smell the Earth. We would park on the side of 100 and venture into the woods for the Warren Falls with a portable grill and a bunch of 40s. The falls gush water into chest-high pools you can wade through, and for those looking to impress, the falls offer rock formations you can flip off of and hope to wow someone. In my increasing age I am recognizing that the women I tried to impress probably just wrote me off as foolish — but in my defense there is at least a mythological precedent in the Appalachians for launching off of rock formations in front of women. Lately, my Route 100 experience has revolved around alumni weekends, and I've been exploring things I missed when I was there in the 90s (we will have a Moss Glenn Falls podcast coming soon).  This recording is Route 100 in the Stowe area from a favorite lodge (The Warren Lodge) — next to a bridge over gushing water. And thank y'all for letting me set up my mic on the premises! And for some house cleaning — I would like to announce the uncommon ambience, YouTube channel. I will start adding a video to accompany the audio on many of my favorite episodes, so give us a thumbs up, subscribe, and whatnot.

Late-night laundry — No one likes laundry, but I have some fond memories of the sights and sounds. The twinkle of evening traffic flashing by the windows in yellows and reds. The crisp autumn air waiting to cleanse you of the steamy confines. When I lived at the top of Winter Hill, I frequented a laundromat at the confluence of Broadway and Main. You could look south from there and see Boston towering in the distance. Her high-rises twinkling. Next door to my old laundromat was a liquor store—I would pick up Smirnoff Ice and drink that **** surreptitiously while folding boxers. Alcohol can be pretty great on laundry night because, sentimentality aside, doing laundry sucks. Especially if you have to do it in public. It can be simultaneously tedious and stressful. The way I've heard war described by soldiers. Obviously, laundry is lower stakes. Yet not without its own cast of belligerents. I had a lady dump my sopping underwear into a cart that wasn't even mine. She kicked it down the aisle toward me as I returned from a smoke break. Me and the dude that had dibs (and clothes already in the cart) were like, "Hey!" That lady was a peak-hour lady. Don't do your laundry during peak hours — folks do not play during peak hours. If you want to learn about a laundromat's institutional knowledge, how it operates, and what is expected of its clientele, subject yourself to peak hours. It's going to suck. I learned a bunch from my one stressful peak-hour laundry visit. Most notably, how to change a dollar and avoid the nickel "convenience fee" on the dollar changer. A lady grabbed my wrist as I went in on the changer. "Use the soda machine," she said, pantomiming, feeding my dollar, and then pressing the white coin return button. Off-hour laundry is less stressful. When regular folks are outside being social, doing homework with the kids, or whatever peak-hour people do at night. I washed my dirty drawers with the lady who cordoned off the back corner with universal dibs, the unkempt dude and his stash of Reader's Digest, the repairman making his rounds, and the ever-changing couple propped against the window making out. Episode photo by Ekaterina Belinskaya

Otherworldly office ambience — we are back at the Movies this week for ambience inspired by the original ⁠Beetlejuice⁠. The paranormal office the Maitlands enter after waiting months in the Neitherworld waiting room (⁠see it here⁠). Skeletons typing, paper rustling, a gongy drone, a PA directing souls, et al. BTW based on the ⁠upcoming sequel's⁠ title, I assume the Beetlejuice franchise will wind up being a trilogy. I haven't seen the sequel, but you don't get anything from saying "Beetlejuice" twice. And that the movie is not Beetlejuice 2 tells me we will get a Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice. Oh no!

And as the title suggests, this is a minisode of a precocious little thunderstorm that came and went (even knocked our power out for a spell). And there must be situations in your life that are perfect for a ten-minute boomer. Dental appointments are totally ten-minutes in length.

Late August, overnight insects, and highway sounds; suburban ambience.  The children are back to school, and Halloween has taken over entire sections of local department stores. But the pools are still open, and Labor Day is a week out. Suburbanites don't know whether to high-five a lifeguard or put a ***** pumpkin on the front stoop. Was that a football whistle? Is white still acceptable? At night, the bugs still sing under the evergreens, made bright red, murderously red by the tall Applebees sign just a klick away. The bugs persevere, for now.

Hanging with Mr Miyagi at the Office… Ambience. This is workplace ambience, if your workplace was a maintenance shop in the South Seas Apartment complex in Reseda and you spent your working hours trying to catch a fly with some chopsticks. In this episode, we're back at the movies and visiting the omphalos of white folks' aspirational karate and electric guitars… The Karate Kid.  When I was a child, I also wished to befriend an old man who could teach me the ways of karate with a few chores. I tried turning my own chores into karate practice and that **** didn't work.  My mom didn't appreciate the smashed appetizer plates; "Mom, I'm fighting Cobra Kai!" didn't help.  I was sent to military school.

Inflatable bounce house ambience — it's another fantastic fan episode. Eight hours of a fan inflating a bouncy house. I dropped the mic into the air chamber and fired the ******* up. It's white noise, and that's it. Oh, I was making our regular Sunday fish dinner for my wife the other day, and I spilled a bit of sauce on the side of her plate. So I wiped it off with a napkin, just like on the chef shows.

Inside Car recording Debby Tropical Remnants. Debby did a destructive dance among the southern states, looping over Florida and spinning into Charleston before drenching the Carolinas.  For my car it was mostly wind and rain. Get in. Episode Cover Photo from Valeriia Miller

After living inside the Earth for nearly a score, I feel like any creature should be given the space to air out one's feelings.  So here are three hours of bug feelings as heard from a charming Bed and Breakfast I spent the night at in Leesburg, Virginia. I know nothing about our friends who live in the Earth for 17 years and then pop out mid-summer to squeal from the trees. I'm speaking of the cicada, the sometimes local taco protein, and massive fly things that are a nightmare to look at.  I reserve the right to not love cicadas later if I were to find out that maybe they are squealing insults upon us for being such poor shepherds of the Earth… Or maybe I would love them more.  Regardless, nothing beats a chorus of these freak insects. And they serve as a good reminder that we're destroying the Earth with war and ineq — ehem… that it's late Summer — time to cape diem the **** out of this pool weather. Also, thanks again to the folks at Stone Gables for letting me stick a giant microphone in your backyard! Cover photo (before manipulation) by Coen Crevels

Bugs, babbling brook, overnight in the woods ambience. Quiet y'all, the summertime bugs have something to say. This recording begins just before midnight and continues until about 4 a.m. (I wanted to get in the less-trafficked hours because there was a US Highway a few miles away and a dirt road close by. You will hear some occasional traffic, but not so much that it's annoying.) So get "lost in the woods" like ⁠De La Soul⁠ did nearly 30 years ago on their opus ⁠Buhloone Mindstate⁠. Except in these woods, you won't find Shortie No Mass, Prince Paul, Pos, Mase, or Dave — just a bunch of bugs. And I'm pretty sure a fox or some other wild canine will show up. ⁠Cover photo by Kendal Hoopes.⁠

Belize Zoo/ Birds ambience — Strap in for 30 minutes of chattering Central American Parrots et al. This recording is from the heart of the Belize Zoo near the parrots. It was captured by my biologist sister, Dr. April Blakeslee, an instructor for Miami University's Project Dragonfly, which works with the Belize Zoo. The program promotes “environmental stewardship” while working “across diverse ecological and social settings.”