This recording documents a live improvised performance, held at the University of Pretoria on the 20th of May 2025.

Warrington utilises feedback from Crossley's live processing to alter the sounds through spectral filtering (harmonisation and spatialisation), frequency filtering (ring modulation and vocoding), and software instrument playback (synthesised sounds and pre-recorded materials); all controlled through an Open Sound Control touch interface on an iPad with a custom-made GUI. This all intersects with the hyper-processed wind instruments of Harris revealing textures and soundscapes that carry the listener through different spaces.

This 4th installation in this son0_morph series is not only a solo recording project, but also a reflective journey into my history as a performer. I began my career as a classical guitarist, but remember always being engaged with music technologies via listening to multiple musical genres, simply loving acts like Tangerine Dream to Jean-Michel Jarre whilst growing up.

Later in classical performance studies I ‘discovered’ Glenn Gould. His pianistic style was a revelation to me, the micro-attention to note volumes, and durations in recording drew me in musically. Mauer says that ‘Gould’s work teaches us that listening can be as much an act of creation as composing, performing, or recording. Learning to listen properly, Gould argued, produces an experience of ecstasy and leads to spiritual good.’

In the son0_morph series this approach to the listening, specifically within ensemble work and technological engagements has been central. Whether this is achieved by using the monitoring environment to nourish improvisations in the first trio album with Carlo Mombelli and Jonno Sweetman, or in the second duet album with Kathleen Tagg, or to an ecstasy of sonic immersion with Cameron Harris in the third release - each of these are enabled in different ways through systems (or ecologies) of unique design.

But what of this last, solo record?

Gould said that ‘the moment I began to experience the studio environment, my whole reaction to what I could do with music under the proper circumstances changed totally’, and I have shared this sentiment. I wanted to close this series by returning to the classical guitar as a medium, in studio. Inspired by the work of artists like Nils Frahm and Ólafur Arnalds this last album, titled ‘Prayers and Laments’ uses the classical guitar and technologies, accepting that sometimes it might be okay to make gentle music.

The works on the record include three original compositions, two works by the Baroque lutenist Sylvius Leopold Weiss (1687-1750) and one by the great guitarist and composer Ralph Towner. Some works are with electronics, some with multiple guitars and some just simply, as they are.

The four works on this album are an audio document - a recording of a conversation between two musicians from very different backgrounds. Composer and wind instrumentalist Cameron Harris (Dancing a Stone - Dahinden/Kleeb/Harris) works here with cor anglais and Max for Live creating dense pointillistic pitch-based materials in response to the ambient soundscapes from Crossley’s guitar work.

It is in the technologically mediated moment of meeting that the music/sonos emerged and with a generosity of spirit, these four collaborative ‘moments’ resulted. These works unfold slowly, and can draw the listener into a textural visual journey, once afforded time.

In Harris an augmented double reed sound is created that extends the pitch and timbral nature of the cor anglais while bolstering, rather than undermining it essential spirit. The pastoral, doleful, melodic clichés associated with the instrument are challenged while gritty processing of extended techniques that bring elements of noise into the frame are fostered and brought into dialogue with a dense rendering of the more traditional timbre. This approach provides many points of contract with the guitar.

Crossley’s guitar is ‘painted’ into the text - it swells, with pads and textures looped and layered over each other, delays units bending and warping the texture into grains and shards of echoes. The guitar is joined by a hardware-hacked Suzuki Omnichord and a tin box packed with bent delay units.

The works were recorded as a continuous set in November of 2020, as part of the Bowed Electrons festival.

In February 2025, Branton and Crossley came together in Liverpool for a bold, fully improvised recording session.

Branton’s acoustic improvisations—crafted through saxophone and clarinet, both in traditional and extended techniques—collide joyfully with Crossley’s exploratory guitar work, which drifts between familiar textures and a rich palette of generative patches and electronic manipulations.

The resulting album is a sonic journey: diverse, unpredictable, and deeply conversational. From minimal soundscapes to glitchy electronic bursts, and even the occasional whisper of swing, each piece honours the spontaneity of the moment. No two tracks sound alike. Instead, the duo dive headlong into each unfolding idea, chasing unexpected turns with curiosity, respect, and an undeniable sense of play.