The HAZE Netlabel presents the project Sound Interpretations. In this project we propose to rethink literary heritage of the 20th century. Over the 2012-2013 years, each month we will release the compilation dedicated to the 12 most outstanding writers of the 20th century.
You can listen to and download our compilations here: Sound Interpretations.
The following compilation is dedicated to Ernest Hemingway.
We accept tracks in MP3 format (320 kbps). Genres: musique concrète, ambient, industrial, noise, glitch, minimalism, free improvisation, post-rock, avant-garde, neoclassicism, sound art, psychedelic, electroacoustic, field recordings etc.
Please send your tracks in a format name_of_the_artist-the_title_of_the_piece.mp3 to haze.org [at] gmail.com via DropBox, WeTransfer or any file sharing service.
All works will be released for free under Creative Commons Licences.
We will be grateful to anyone who can help us to share this information.
Hit in the head you will die quickly and cleanly even sweetly and fittingly except for the white blinding flash that never stops, unless perhaps it is only the frontal bone or your optic nerve that is smashed, or your jaw carried away, or your nose and cheek bones gone so you can still think but you have no face to talk with. But if you are not hit in the head you will be hit in the chest, and choke in it, or in the lower belly, and feel it all slip and slide loosely as you open, to spill out when you try to get up, it's not supposed to be so painful but they always scream with it, it's the idea I suppose, or have the flash, the slamming clang of high explosive on a hard road and find your legs are gone above the knee, or maybe just a foot gone and watch the white bone sticking through your puttee, or watch them take a boot off with your foot a mush inside it, or feel an arm flop and learn how a bone feels grating, or you will burn, choke and vomit, or be blown to hell a dozen ways, without sweetness or fittingness: but none of this means anything. No catalogue of horrors ever kept men from war. Before the war you always think that it's not you that dies. But you will die, brother, if you go to it long enough.
Notes on the Next War, Ernest Hemingway.
The list of writers:
Samuel Beckett. Deadline: 06.07.2013
Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. Deadline: 06.08.2013