logo
#

Latest news with #MetalMachineMusic

The emergency mobile alert sound, reviewed
The emergency mobile alert sound, reviewed

The Spinoff

time25-05-2025

  • Entertainment
  • The Spinoff

The emergency mobile alert sound, reviewed

Another test, another shocking reminder of the emergency alert noise. We asked some experts to describe that indescribable sound. First published in 2023 shortly after yet another emergency alert. Over the past few days, weeks, months, years, people across the country have had their lives periodically punctuated by a loud warning screech emitting from their phone. Some of these have been warning of unusually heavy rain, others of a nationwide lockdown, most recently of Cyclone Gabrielle. It's a dreaded sound that many will be increasingly (and unfortunately) familiar with – but how exactly would you describe it? The start of the dial-up tone? The traffic lights at the start of Crash Team Racing? Or like the gates of hell opening up for us once more? We asked some of our finest writers, musicians and thinkers to weigh in. Sharon Lam, Writer It 100% sounds like a robot Pingu going NOOT NOOT, right? With glowing red eyes? Surely everyone will also say this? Joanna Cho, Author I'm with my nieces in Auckland and I said 'the alarm sounds like Pingu' and they said 'what's that' and I put on Pingu on YouTube and now they're lying around my work computer watching Pingu so I can't work, fine by me. The Beths, Band The notes that make the tone wouldn't be out of place in a song like Silence Is Golden, but if we did that, we'd have a count in! No count in is just wrong. It's also twisted how it calls and answers to itself when you're in a group of people. It's a bit of a musical cheat code – it is 'harmony', but most harmony suggests a place it wants to go, or at least a place it came from – that's what brainy musicians call 'function'. The emergency tone screams for attention, but doesn't really suggest any movement. Ironically, this makes it musically 'non-functional'. Haz Beats, Producer A Tsunami siren. The big panic apocalypse end of the world type lol. Definitely a siren. Jess Molina, Writer Sounds like I'm about to panic over not panic-buying toilet paper Toby Morris, Illustrator I remember reading about the concept of 'the brown noise' in WWII, where they researched finding a perfect note that'd loosen any bowels. I feel like the emergency noise has gotten close to that, combined with the visual equivalent – when they researched the most unpleasant possible colour which they used for non-labelled cigarette packaging. It's giving uncomfortable meets unnatural meets poo, basically. Aaron Yap, Psychic Glands DJ It sounds like a chintzy 1950s sci-fi movie robot vaporising you with its laser beam. Alan Holt, International Manager at New Zealand Music Commission Off the top of my head it reminds me of a quite a few things – side two of Lou Reed's Metal Machine Music around the 10 minute mark, a less musical interpretation of 'Don't Take' from Sachiko M's Sine Wave Solo album and a less funky take on 'Sonata Number 5 (the 'Detroit Sonata')' from Bruce Russell's album Circuits of Omission : Sonaten für synthetisierten Klang (Opus 60). Nick Ascroft, Poet This sounds like a mouse ambulance reversing. As it should. Jane Yee, Treasure Island Star It sounds like all my nightmares coming true in one ear piercing screech. I physically left the couch vertically skywards when yesterday's one arrived. Usually have my phone on silent but I had been playing League of Legends Wild Rift on my phone which requires sound on and forgot to switch it back. I will never be the same again. Britt Mann, PR Maven The sound is getting familiar to me now. On Sunday it emanated separately and all at once from various corners of the house. The flatmate, the cat and I met each other's gaze in an instant. 'Was that…?' 'Yeah.' Severe, significant event. Red Alert Level Gabrielle. 'Top up?' She cracked the magnum of red we'd opened to mark the Beginning of the End of Days. Janaye Henry, Comedian If I was to Shazam that sound I reckon it would say Skrillex, Bangarang. Reuben Jelleyman, Acoustician The sound itself is basically the same as a phone dial tone but the emergency mobile alert is higher and richer in resonant sideband frequencies which makes the sound harsher. You also have the two beeps, which gets your attention. One beep would be easy to ignore. From my perspective the sound is strong enough to get your attention, but it's not meant to be harsh, it's to provoke fear. I would say it's easy to associate feelings with sound, that's normal. When we hear the alarm, it reminds us of the last time we were anticipating a tsunami or a storm and that puts us on edge. Sanjay Patel, Comedian It sounds like the government is alerting you to the fact that they have now finally discovered the most sordid thing you have searched for on the internet. Imogen Taylor, Painter If the alert was a painting it would probably be a whole exhibition of paintings and that exhibition would be in some art museum in some country quite far away that you'd been really excited about travelling to but when you got there you realised you got the museum dates mixed up and instead of there being a Georgia O'Keeffe retrospective on there was a fucking Banksy retrospective on and then to top it off you paid for the tickets which were horrendously expensive and went inside to look at the bullshit paintings but then realised whatever you had for lunch from that place on the corner outside the museum before you went in wasn't sitting right in your gut and you immediately need to find the bathroom somewhere. Rose Hoare, Writer It sounds antique to me. Like if they had emergency mobile alerts on Bridgerton, that's what they'd sound like. It sounds like a boomer ringtone to me. The kind that would be mildly irritating in an office environment. You learn to block it over time, but it will always give you an inner eye roll and feeling of superiority. It doesn't exactly evoke authority. Or urgency for that matter.

This is the Metallica song that makes Kirk Hammett cry – and it's really not the one you'd expect
This is the Metallica song that makes Kirk Hammett cry – and it's really not the one you'd expect

Yahoo

time09-04-2025

  • Entertainment
  • Yahoo

This is the Metallica song that makes Kirk Hammett cry – and it's really not the one you'd expect

When you buy through links on our articles, Future and its syndication partners may earn a commission. Metallica guitarist Kirk Hammett has revealed the unlikely song that brings him to tears. Talking to Rolling Stone, the 62-year-old says that Junior Dad, from the metal titans' maligned 2011 Lou Reed collaboration album Lulu, makes him weepy to the point he can't listen to it. Lulu was released to mixed reviews from critics and derision from fans, many of whom were confused or outraged by the crossover's avant-garde metal direction. Based on the Lulu plays by German playwright Frank Wedekind, it sees Metallica play metal music beneath poetry from Reed. Despite the backlash, Hammett says, 'That album means so much to me for a number of reasons.' He continues: 'The lyrics are amazing. It's poetry from track to track. I'm a huge Lou Reed fan. To be able to hang out with him and work with him musically meant so much.' The guitarist then zeroes in on Junior Dad. 'And the track Junior Dad – I can't listen to it, man. Brings me to tears. I remember when Lou said, 'I have a song for you and I want this to be on the album.' And he played it for James [Hetfield, vocals/guitars] and I. 'And by the end of the song, I looked at James, and James looked at me and we both had tears in our eyes. Then Lou Reed came in and saw us both crying in the kitchen. He's smiling and he said, 'I got you, didn't I?'' Hammett previously spoke about the emotional effect Junior Dad has on him in 2011. He told Mojo (via Blabbermouth): 'I had just lost my father literally three or four weeks previous. I had to run out of the control room, and I found myself standing in the kitchen, sobbing away. James came into the kitchen in the same condition he was sobbing, too. It was insane.' Though Lulu was controversial, both Metallica and Reed have defended the album. In a 2011 USA Today interview, Reed said: 'I don't have any fans left. After [1975 album] Metal Machine Music, they all fled. Who cares? I'm essentially in this for the fun of it.' In 2023, Metallica drummer Lars Ulrich chalked the venomous fan feedback up to 'ignorance'. 'I can't quite figure it out,' he said, 'but years later, it's aged extremely well. It sounds like a motherfucker still. So I can only put the reaction down to ignorance.' Metallica released their latest album 72 Seasons in 2023 and will start a North American tour later this month. See dates and details below. Apr 19: Syracuse MA Wireless Dome, NY*Apr 24: Toronto Rogers Centre, ON*Apr 26: Toronto Rogers Centre, ON+May 01: Nashville Nissan Stadium, TN*May 03: Nashville Nissan Stadium, TN+May 07: Blacksburg Lane Stadium, VA*May 09: Columbus Sonic Temple, OHMay 11: Columbus Sonic Temple, OHMay 23: Philadelphia Lincoln Financial Field, PA+May 25: Philadelphia Lincoln Financial Field, PA*May 28: Landover Northwest Stadium, MD*May 31: Charlotte Bank Of America Stadium, NC*Jun 3: Atlanta Mercedes-Benz Stadium, GA*Jun 6: Tampa Raymond James Stadium, FL+Jun 8: Tampa Raymond James Stadium, FL*Jun 14: Houston NRG Stadium, TX*Jun 20: Santa Clara Levi's Stadium, CA+Jun 22: Santa Clara Levi's Stadium, CA*Jun 27: Denver Empower Field at Mile High, CO+Jun 29: Denver Empower Field at Mile High, CO* * Pantera and Suicidal Tendencies support+ Limp Bizkit and Ice Nine Kills support

Everyone asks me about my plans for having children. A nest of noisy miner birds has taught me how to respond
Everyone asks me about my plans for having children. A nest of noisy miner birds has taught me how to respond

The Guardian

time26-01-2025

  • General
  • The Guardian

Everyone asks me about my plans for having children. A nest of noisy miner birds has taught me how to respond

If you feel there are not enough people in your life making bizarre pronouncements on your character, might I suggest deciding to be childless. At the age of 34, and having felt for my entire adult life that I do not want to procreate, I have heard most of them, from the infuriatingly condescending – 'don't worry, you will one day!' – to the vaguely hostile – 'so you don't like children?' My own family have mostly resigned themselves to the knowledge that I have self-selected to be the future strange uncle, who plays a vital role in my niece and nephew's lives by recommending cool records during adolescence (can't wait to force a teenager to listen to Metal Machine Music in full.) But a dizzying number of people ask me about my plans for children, from strangers to friends. Making my decision to be childless caused me no stress. But it does, for some reason, cause stress to others. Sign up for Guardian Australia's breaking news email A way of responding to this stress in those around me was given to me recently, in the form of the low-hanging branch of a tree, over which noisy miners kept flurrying. I was up the coast with my partner, and we would spend much of our time there stretched out on a blanket in the yard, reading. It was while we reclined in the sun that we noticed an unusual amount of bird activity taking place above us. There, worryingly far out on the branch, sat a bird's nest. Care must be taken not to disturb Australia's native birdlife, particularly during high stress periods such as mating and hatching season. But from a naturally occurring high point, we could see that there were three eggs nestled together at the bottom of the collection of twigs. For much of the day, the mother sat on her eggs, while her host of suitors came to check in on the little ones. We are novice birdwatchers – or we were, before our bird children came into our lives. Parenthood is a beautiful, brutal entrance into a new way of living, slicing open the way things were, ushering in the way things are, and requiring much research and study. We read articles, so that we might learn what to expect, and discovered a great deal about the strange, endearingly gossipy world of the miner (everyone's always twittering about someone else behind their back). We also came to realise that life for our children would not be easy. Noisy miner bird packs only allow one female – if any of our three offspring were girls, they would be driven out of comfort, forced to make a life for themselves. And who knew if they would survive to hatching, let alone past the juvenile stage? But part of a parent's job is letting go. And so we let go. We turned away from expectation, and we embraced the terrible, wonderful mystery of it all, checking each day, and sometimes hourly, how they were going. From afar. Which is something that all parents must do eventually, too – take their distance. I am happy to report that our children are hatched and alive. My partner and I have returned to our jobs in Sydney, so are not as close to the three little ones as we'd like to be. But we have people checking on them, and reporting back to us. It takes a village, after all. To a certain kind of person, forgoing biological children can be seen as a complicated spurning of life itself. Kind people ask me whether I might feel regret, missing out on what it means to raise a creature. Rude people ask me if there's something wrong with me – never outright, but in that unspoken manner which will be familiar to the childless, searching to see if I am fundamentally cruel or harsh. And always that question, when you tell someone you don't want kids: why? Before this last holiday, I never really knew how to answer. But now I understand. The life of the childless can be characterised as fundamentally missing something – in particular, missing the joys of protecting, guiding. But not having children does not mean living in a world entirely without children, or without the act of shepherding. The beauty of our lives – all of our lives, whether we have children or not – is that they are filled with so many unplanned opportunities to exhibit care. The relentless barrage of requests to nourish and sustain can even be exhausting. But I think it's what we were put here to do. I know now that even without a biological brood, my life will be filled with small, tender things that ask for my help. I also know that I will gain so very much each time I will say, 'yes, I will help you'. The little ones hanging on a nest in a tree, suspended over empty space, taught me that: what living looks like. As children are wont to do. Joseph Earp is a critic, painter and novelist. His book Painting Portraits of Everyone I've Ever Dated will be published by Pantera Press in 2025

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into the world of global news and events? Download our app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store