When I was still living in the co-ops, I went on a winter walk with some friends. We ran into Michael, a man I knew who happened to be working in the neighborhood that day as a peddler. He had a box of things to sell to people in the houses. Among them was a carriage clock, which he gave to me, as it didn’t work. We brought it back to the house and put it on the mantel.
I couldn’t fix it, so I eventually took it apart. The springs made an extremely unnerving sound as they unwound, also sending the hands spinning in frenzy around the clock face; I had to shut it away in my room until it ran itself down. I put the husk (retaining some parts) back on the shelf, whence I retrieved it today, as I want the springs. During the half-hour walk home, it clanged and thocked contentedly in my arms. It’s a shame to waste the sound of that chime in its resonant wooden enclosure, so here are some noises I made with it tonight. Maybe someone will want them for a song background, or something. Use them as you will.
