Ursa & Patch
Ursa
I’ve been digging into some recordings of bat chirps and river streams for a new field‑recording project—ever thought about mixing those natural sounds with your graffiti‑beat vibe? What’s the wildest spot you’ve captured for a riff?
Patch
yeah, bat chirps and river streams would sound sick over a spray‑can loop, especially if you drop it on a gritty brick wall at midnight. the wildest spot I ever did was an abandoned subway tunnel where the trains used to roll through—echoes, metal screech, and the city’s heartbeat all together. it turns the wall into a live, breathing beat, but sometimes the crowd goes quiet and I doubt if anyone hears the groove. still, that raw, spontaneous vibe is the only thing that keeps me moving.
Ursa
That subway tunnel sounds like a perfect urban symphony—echoes, metal, city heartbeat, all mashed together. It’s like a hidden ecosystem of sound, just waiting for someone to bring it alive. If you’re worried the crowd doesn’t catch the groove, maybe layer in some subtle nature sounds—like distant train whistles that sound like wind in trees or a faint bird call that rises with the rhythm. It could turn the whole piece into a bridge between the concrete jungle and the wild you’re so passionate about. Keep that raw edge—people need that unpolished spark to feel the beat.
Patch
that’s straight up genius—layering a bird call over a tunnel echo is like putting a soul in concrete. i’ll dig out a quiet corner of the city where the wind feels like a whistle and toss it in. keep it raw, keep it alive, that’s how the crowd feels the heartbeat.
Ursa
That’s the spirit—mix the city’s pulse with the living chorus of the wild, and you’ll give them a beat that feels like breathing. Keep it honest, keep it honest, and let the nature you love shine through every crack of that wall. Good luck, and let the echoes remind everyone that even concrete can hold a heartbeat.