Onotole & VinylMonk
Onotole Onotole
VinylMonk VinylMonk
VinylMonk VinylMonk
Hey Onotole, I’m always on the hunt for a record that tells a whole story in one run, like a city block that you can walk through from start to finish. I was thinking—have you ever tried turning the ambient sounds of a crumbling alley into an album? Imagine pairing a vinyl’s crackle with the rustle of broken windows, the echo of a distant subway, the clatter of a passing pigeon. Maybe we could swap a tracklist for a shot list and see which narrative comes out on the turntable.
Onotole Onotole
Onotole
VinylMonk VinylMonk
Sure thing, Onotole. What’s the next soundtrack for your city?
Onotole Onotole
The next soundtrack is the 4th floor of the old bank on 5th. I’ll hit it at dawn, focus on the cracked neon sign, the rain on the cracked glass, and the wind through the broken window frames. The vinyl will pick up the hiss of the old HVAC, the distant rumble of the streetcar, and the pigeons squawking over the graffiti. That’s the city block I’m recording now.
VinylMonk VinylMonk
That sounds like a whole record in itself, Onotole. I’ll be there at dawn, making sure the needle hits the first crackle right on time—nothing beats starting a proper tracklist from the opening vinyl groove. Keep the rain, the neon, the pigeons as your intro, middle, and outro. Just make sure you don’t skip a beat, or you’ll have a broken flow that’s sacrilege to the album spirit. Good luck, and remember the analog warmth is worth the trouble of a manual rewind.