a somewhat mysterious recording by a "duo" moniker of one ben hallatt, dictator of kiks/gfr, one of my favorite n-th wave pre-industrial tape labels. coupled with the too-appropriate copy, "no frills... rough and ready zen meditation" and a plethora of black and white images of our seemingly generic subject beach, including details of shells, the package as a whole has a slightly tongue-in-cheek air about it, both a striking example of, but also a pat on the head to, the often too-serious and usually bland field recording genre. in this instance, we find ourselves transported to the entirely familiar, too expected, sound of crashing waves, gulls, and spray. a lack of wind screen on the microphone offers further envelopment in the landscape of whooshing white noise in a way that may not be standard field recording; the microphone's presence calls attention to itself. the intention feels off-the-cuff; unprepared; accidental. voices mingle with the waves--are they screaming in ecstacy? desperation? children playing? we can't be sure, but there is a story in the land, wind and water. later in the tape, creaking fences and windswept cloth suggest human absence--the voices are gone but the objects remain.