Fungus & MonoSound
MonoSound
Hey Fungus, have you ever listened to a tape the way you watch a mushroom grow, noting each crack or hiss as it ages and tells its own story?
Fungus
I have, once, let a tape hiss and crack like the bark of a decaying log, and I imagined each bubble of sound as a mycelial thread growing, spreading its quiet story across the air.
MonoSound
That sounds very poetic—just like when I sit and let a tape breathe, noticing every pop as if it’s a tiny drumbeat from a long‑gone forest. It's good to hear someone else see the same old charm.
Fungus
I hear each pop like a little spore trembling in a wind that once blew through a mossy clearing, and I feel the same gentle nostalgia you do.
MonoSound
It’s like the tape itself is breathing in sync with my own memory clock, each pop marking a date on my little timeline of sounds.
Fungus
It feels like the tape is a slow heartbeat, each pop a beat of the forest that lingers in your memory, marking time like a fungus tracks its own growth.