Sounds Like Home | 2113

S04E13

Back on the chalk, the characteristics of sounds around my family home have remained the same as if time has flowed around them.

Full show notes: https://www.thejaymo.net/2021/04/03/301-2113-sounds-like-home/

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Permanently moved is a personal podcast 301 seconds in length, written and recorded by @thejaymo


Note: This episode if full of field recordings. Please do give it a listen, if you are subbed via email or RSS.

Sounds Like Home

πŸ”Š Bird Sounds πŸ”Š

This is the sound of early morning on the chalk in early April.

Obviously you can’t forget seagull on the roof of the shed at the end of the garden.

πŸ”Š Seagull Screech πŸ”Š

If it wasn’t already clear I”m back on county. Seeing my parents for the first time in 9 months. It’s wonderful. I’ve missed them.

Being back in the home I grew up in after so much time away is a little strange.

Things are different since I was last home, just as they are different from when I moved out 18 year ago. Rooms have been redecorated, a new kitchen and new bathroom etc. 

But the feeling of the space is still the same. What has stuck me since being home is the comfort I’ve found in sounds embedded within the fabric of the house. Sound as in noise, as in trusted, as in sound asleep.

Hyper thick with memory and emotion.

The characteristics of these sounds remained the same as time has flowed around us. Now at 35 and after pandemic absence these sounds make life more meaningful.

Like the sound of tapping the glass of the barometer in the hall. The first thing I did after walking through the door the other day.

πŸ”Š Barometer Tap πŸ”Š

For me the thing that’s important about these sounds is that they are unique to my family. 

πŸ”Š Ticking πŸ”Š

The sound of the cuckoo clock in the back room. In the late 90’s we went on holiday with my grandpa and grandma to Neuwiller in France. Near Lake Titisee on the French German border. 

They bought matching cuckoo clocks in the black forrest, only Mum and Dads didn’t have a painted face. 

Over the years ours suffered damage and took tumbles from the old cat attacking its chains. 

Now that Grandpa and Grandma are gone, their clock is now on our wall in the back room. It’s ticking right now as I write this script.

It Cuckoo’s at the top of each hour and every half hour. 

πŸ”Š Cuckoo πŸ”Š

This is one of the sounds of home. The sound of growing up, of a holiday long ago, and a reminder of my Grandpa and Prandma. 

πŸ”Š Heavy Ticking πŸ”Š

Another is the clock in the front room. That one belonged to my great Nana. Or little Nana as she’s known. It’s wall clock my dad has wound every Sunday of my entire life.

It’s pendulum swing is heavier and more sedate than the Freneticism of its german cousin.

It too strikes the top of the hour and every half an hour.

I love the sound of the flywheel engaging right before the hammer strikes the chiming coil.

πŸ”Š Dong πŸ”Š

Let’s hear it again.

πŸ”Š Dong πŸ”Š

I know that these clocks keep Eve awake at night when we are both home for a visit. I suppose if you didn’t grow up around them they are difficult to ignore. 

There’s other sounds that still remain the same. Traveling through time with my family and this house.

The sound of opening the back door. 

πŸ”Š Door πŸ”Š

Or the kitchen door

πŸ”Š Door πŸ”Š

Or the back room door closing

πŸ”Š Door πŸ”Š

Or opening the door to the front room.

πŸ”Š Door πŸ”Š

These are sounds that are special or unique to me.

Or the sound of the rings on the brass curtain rail above the front door.

πŸ”Š Rail Noise πŸ”Š

As a kid, that was the sound of bedtime. As I grew older it became and adversary.. Trying to pull it as quietly as possible getting home late, absolutely smashed from the pub.

πŸ”Š Really Bad Rail Noise πŸ”Š

There are other sounds of course. The sound of going up the stairs.

Either by one by one

πŸ”Š Steps on Stairs πŸ”Š

Or two by two. 

πŸ”Š Steps on Stairs but Faster πŸ”Š

The familiar pattern and number of stairs ingrained In my body as much as my mind.

Some of these recordings didn’t come out as well as I’d liked.

I regret not having brought my field recorder home. Instead I was using my cheap shotgun mic through a meter of cheap barely shielded cable. 

They lose fidelity, and integrity when captured and translated into the digital. But then again, these sounds only mean something when situated in place.

They only mean something to me, and 3 other people. Who moved through time around them. Situated on the chalk.


The script above is the original script I wrote for the episode. It may differ from what ended up in the audio due to time constraints.

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