Archive: Radio Scotland

Buddha Machine II

A few years ago I wrote about the Buddha Machine, a charming little plastic box that emits ethereal music. It is an interesting object, mostly because the nine loops that it can play are so other-worldly and, despite their brevity, infinitely fascinating. Which is just as well, because they will repeat endlessly. Well, until you switch it off or the batteries run out.

It was dubbed the anti-iPod, because despite the fact that it bears a similarity in design and concept to the famous Apple gadget, it in fact rejects the entire ethos of the slick iPod. The Buddha Machine reminds many of medium wave radios for the poor, crackly sound quality that comes out of its large circular speaker. And instead of boasting several gigabytes of storage space to put on whatever music you want, you are stuck with the nine loops. Essentially, it is what the iPod would be like if it was cheap and made in China. Instead of, er, expensive and made in China.

Buddha Machine II My post about the Buddha Machine became a bit of a landmark for this blog, as I ended up speaking about it on Radio Scotland. On the radio with me was a local Buddhist, who was understandably rather bemused about being asked about what she (politely) saw as a cheap piece of tat.

Ostensibly it is a piece of pure tat. It looks like the sort of thing that might plop through your letterbox a few weeks after you collect your twelfth Weetabix token. But there is something oddly engaging about the Buddha Machine.

It is an interesting statement about the position the entertainment industry finds itself in. This is an age when physical music formats seem more and more redundant. But contrary to this trend, the Buddha Machine — the ultimate physical format — has become a cult fetish object for music and gadget geeks.

Plus, you cannot help but be captivated by the music, which you can imagine being transmitted from outer space, or a hitherto undiscovered dimension. Or perhaps an anonymous exotic location on the other side of the world. Mind you, that last one is kind of true. The music, like the box, is made in China. You see, the Buddha Machine is the brainchild of the Beijing-based electronic music duo FM3.

Buddha Machine vs Buddha Machine II Since then, FM3 have set to work on that difficult second Buddha Machine. I never suspected they would try to repeat the feat. Could it possibly recreate the magic of the original?

It is true that, unless you are new to the Buddha Machine, there is not much so mystery about the second iteration. To an extent, once you’ve seen one Buddha Machine, you’ve seen them all.

But there is enough that is new about the Buddha Machine II to justify the purchase. Of course, there are nine new loops. The music is as fascinating as ever, even if these new selections don’t quite seem to match the other-worldly qualities of the original loops. While the first Buddha Machine was based more on electronic sounds, a lot of the new music is more guitar-based — though it is still firmly of the ambient persuasion.

My personal favourite loop of Buddha Machine II is #3, ‘Piano’. It is a decisive but quizzical riff that, in a fairer world, could be the Windows startup sound.

Buddha in box

Overall, Buddha Machine II feels like a more mature version of the original. Although the designs of the two machines are very similar, there are some subtle changes. The first Buddha Machine came in a variety of bright, almost childlike colours. The new version comes in deeper, more adult hues: burgundy, brown or — my choice — grey. Even the “summer edition” comes in a curious teal-like colour.

Buddha Machine II also comes with a new feature — a knob that allows you to control the pitch at which the loops play. At first, this new addition feels like a failure. Controlling it while the Buddha Machine is switched on produces a rather unpleasant, disorientating effect. It sounds like a malfunctioning tape player — a noise that made me feel sick when I was a child.

But a more careful use of the new control brings more pleasure. It unlocks infinite worlds hidden inside this tiny box. Instead of just the nine loops, for each one you now have a choice of a slow and low-pitched version, or a fast and high-pitched version — and everything in between. Each loop is now massively variable. Exploring different speeds of each loop reveals new elements, elicits new emotions and brings new experiences.

This will bring a new dimension to the past time of Buddha boxing. This is where two or more people experiment with a number of Buddha Machines, allowing the drones to weave themselves among one another. On first listen to such an experiment, the loops may seem to match up poorly. But it ends up being a fascinating ambient creation, like some massive imagined Brian Eno installation.

You can try it for yourself with the Buddha Machine Wall, a web page that lets you experiment using the original nine loops. FM3 themselves invite you to play with three loops from Buddha Machine II.

The Buddha Machine has come on a long way since its original release four years ago, having spawned a number of other projects. Robert Henke remixed the Buddha Machine to create the album Layering Buddha. FM3 themselves encourage such remixing by offering MP3s of the loops to download for free, available under a Creative Commons license.

And despite originally being the anti-iPod, you can now buy an iPhone app that apes the original Buddha Machine. Of course, it doesn’t quite have the same charm as the real thing, but there is nonetheless something novel about these wonderful sounds coming out of your phone.

All-in-all, this unassuming little box packs a lot of punch. It is roughly the price of a CD album. But as an object, you will get far more pleasure out of a Buddha Machine.

Scottish politics became exciting and sexy yesterday. Sexy as politics goes anyway. The excitement is over the fact that the SNP have failed to persuade the Scottish Parliament to back its budget. Cue lots of finger pointing.

It’s the sort of thing that makes members of the public disdainful of politicians. I chose to listen to Radio Scotland for a short while following the budget vote. The first set of text messages to be read out, around 15 minutes after the vote had taken place, was practically an encyclopaedia of lazy Scottish political commentary. All the old chestnuts were wheeled out. One person blamed proportional representation. Another suggested getting rid of the Scottish Parliament altogether. A few more had decided never to vote for the Greens again.

But I can’t find it in me to blame the Greens for this one at all. Not remotely. Maybe I am allowing the fact that I am hugely in favour of their insulation scheme cloud my judgement. It is, after all, the only vaguely sensible thing I can remember hearing pass through a politician’s lips in years. That’s something to get passionate about.

But in seriousness, I struggle to see how the Greens can possibly be blamed for this. Their policy has been well-established. It was put on the table months ago. And it seems like a very sensible policy at that. The Greens’ proposal took up just £100 million of a £33 billion budget — just a third of a percent. It’s amazing to think that the SNP were unable to properly accommodate the Greens’ demands until literally the last minute. It’s even more incredible when you consider that the SNP are supposed to be broadly in favour of the scheme!

This all seems like sheer carelessness on the SNP’s part. Going by Patrick Harvie’s media appearances, his chief concern was not the fact that the SNP were unwilling to stump up the full £100 million. In this supposedly consensual Parliament, politicians should expect to make compromises. It may well be that the Greens would have taken what John Swinney put on the table were the Greens treated with a modicum of respect, with negotiations conducted properly. But the Green co-convener seemed quite livid at the apparently haphazard way the SNP conducted the discussions.

If half of what Patrick Harvie says about last-minute phone calls and faxes being delivered halfway through John Swinney’s speech is true, it makes the SNP look like an organisational basket case. Given that negotiations have been going on for weeks — months, even — it seems awfully careless for the SNP to sleep in like this. It’s hardly the slick operation that skilfully won the 2007 election.

It’s no surprise that the Greens should feel insulted. It looks like they were totally taken for granted — fobbed off with a half-baked scheme, and communicated to practically in grunts. The SNP must have calculated that they could get away with taking the Greens for granted. They might have got away with it when Robin Harper was in charge. Yesterday the Greens stood up for themselves, and rightly so.

It wouldn’t surprise me now if the new budget goes through unanimously, as Jeff suggests it might. I interpret the events of yesterday as a warning to SNP not to be too arrogant and that they can’t take the Parliament for granted. But politicians will surely know that they can’t take this game too far.

It won’t be popular with the public if we end up without a budget and — worse — having to trudge out to vote for this shower again. I’m sure every politician in Holyrood knows that. Nor, surely, can the parties really afford all the campaigning that would be involved. So they will be prepared to avoid that outcome. In the aftermath of yesterday’s events, all of the parties appear to be more willing to play ball.

That’s the risk the Greens now face though. Either Labour or the Lib Dems — or both — might like to make some political capital out of this by making some compromises so that they can go around the place saying they saved Scotland’s public spending. In that case, the SNP really would be able to take the Greens’ votes for granted.

In that case, the Greens will look like they have made a major strategic error here. But I still think they did the right thing yesterday. The Greens may not have been very pragmatic, but their principled stance is exactly what we need more of in politics.

Hmm, the MSM is taking a bit of a battering on this blog at the moment. This is the fourth post in a row having a pop at some aspect of the media. I guess this is common for bloggers, but I promise to go on to something different for my next post!

Anyway, in the past I have written in favour of the idea of a Scottish Six. Despite the fact that I wrote that post over two years ago now, my views haven’t changed much.

I keep on meaning to analyse a week’s worth of the 6 O’Clock News to measure just how much of it is actually relevant to Scotland any more. I haven’t properly measured it, mostly because I’m not always in at 6 o’clock, but my guess would be that it is less relevant to Scotland than many people south of the border realise.

That is because I think that more matters are devolved than some people realise. A common perception about the Scottish Parliament is that it is a glorified council (see, for instance, what Nosemonkey wrote here — though I don’t mean to single him out, as a lot of people do it).

That is probably not the perception of most Scots. When people say ‘Parliament’, you know they are talking about the Scottish Parliament. The other place is Westminster. When Jamie Stone gave a talk to the people taking my politics course last year, he claimed that around 80% of legislation that affects our day-to-day lives is made in the Scottish Parliament (I’m not certain about that 80% figure, but it was something like that. Anybody have any firm figures?).

To put it into perspective, think about every time the 6 O’Clock News covers stories about health, education, transport or justice. They are four of the biggest issues around, and they are all devolved. Often, you might go through half of the bulletin without learning about any news that is actually relevant to Scottish viewers.

That is not to say that Scottish viewers shouldn’t learn about health and education policies being pursued in England. You could argue that these debates all have relevance to the way we are governed from Westminster, in terms of the general political climate. Am I right in thinking that most of the major Commons revolts against the Blair government have been to do with devolved issues?

But the issues themselves are, at best, of tangential relevance to Scots. I would be in favour of a Scottish Six, merely in recognition of this fact more than anything else. Ploughing along with the current situation, where Scottish viewers have to sit through several irrelevant news stories every week, is a bit nonsensical.

But

Richard Havers has written this post about the idea of the Scottish Six, and why he thinks it wouldn’t work.

He is right. It seems pretty obvious that Reporting Scotland has enough bother filling half an hour as things stand. All too often they turn to sport after about ten minutes of the bulletin. You can probably expect around half of Reporting Scotland to be filled with boring boring football. At least, that’s what it feels like.

Mind you, a Scottish Six would also cover international affairs. You would hope that it would broadcast salient reports from the London-based 6 O’Clock News for minimal cost, and also that it would be able to use London-based BBC correspondents just as Radio Scotland is able to.

But I still reckon a Scottish Six would only be able to fill around forty-five minutes tops of the hour-long slot. And it would not be as good quality as the London-based 6 O’Clock News (even though the 6 O’Clock News is the worst BBC bulletin going if you ask me — far too tabloidy).

It’s a tough choice, as there are advantages and disadvantages of both options. As such, it is perhaps not surprising that the safe, conservative option of preserving the status quo is chosen. On balance, I am just about in favour of the Scottish Six — but I probably wouldn’t watch it.

It seemed to be going so well too. In 2006, Scotland’s rail service was pretty good from my perspective. The route I take — Fife to Edinburgh — is meant to be one of the worst in the country, but I think it is fine.

Granted, I no longer have to go at peak time like I used to. But even so, I thought the service was pretty good. During the day there are usually two or three trains per hour to Edinburgh, which is pretty good going really. Delays seem to be less frequent and carriages seem to be less crowded.

This article from The Guardian also put things into perspective by comparing a Kirkcaldy–Edinburgh journey to other gruelling commutes.

If you are strap-hanging on train lines in England and value the remains of your sanity, look away now. It will do you no good to read about the record 88% satisfaction rates that Scottish rail commuters report, nor the £1.9bn, seven-year programme to introduce extra carriages, longer platforms and new rail lines across Scotland, or that train operators rarely breach their promise that no one should stand for more than 10 minutes. Even a recent BBC Radio Scotland phone-in on commuting struggled to find hair-raising stories. In fact, several callers bandied words such as “excellent” and “very comfortable”.

It’s true really. Things on Scottish trains have been quite good. And the current work going on at Edinburgh Waverley station serves as a constant reminder of the improvements that are being made. I was also becoming sympathetic towards First ScotRail for always being blamed even for things outwith their control.

But it seems as though ever since that article was published it’s been all downhill for Scotland’s rail passengers. The brand new trains that First ScotRail have been buying over the past couple of years are now developing more faults.

I’ve heard some slightly concerning noises, which is nothing much to report in itself. But a couple of weeks ago I was on a train that was late because of “poor engine performance”. The week before that I experienced a bit of a rarity — a train completely failing and being cancelled.

Now, after that period where we were getting loads of new trains, I’ve noticed some increasingly colourful liveries around the place. So we are now getting lots of other train companies’ second hand trains.

Apparently First ScotRail had lots of trouble with peak time Fife Circle services earlier this year. Major signalling failures, particularly at Haymarket, occur far too frequently.

More than one recent derailment at Waverley Station is also a slightly worrying record. And the fact that a heavy freight train found itself heading towards a passenger train is downright scary.

(There have also been some moans on other blogs, here and here.)

Sure, not all of these incidents are the fault of First ScotRail. A lot of the blame seems to rest on Network Rail. There are a few unacceptable problems creeping in for whatever reason, particularly at Edinburgh.

Now there is the strike that is currently taking place. Of course, neither First ScotRail nor Network Rail seem to be particularly to blame for this. That accolade goes to Bob Crow, who appears to have unilaterally ripped up an agreement which was almost reached on Monday. He comes across as power crazy. Mr Crow really must have a massive boner thinking about all the disruption he has caused to the “ordinary working man” today.

I feel the need to defend trains as a form of transport. As I woke up this morning I was listening to the morning phone in on Radio Scotland. It might have been my not-yet-properly-awake early morning head fuzz, but I am sure I heard some woman saying that she had booked a train for the first time in years today, and she will never be taking the train again after today’s strike.

That is a bit of a silly attitude if you ask me. So signal men go on strike on the one day she happens to have booked a train. It is a piece of bad luck, but it is hardly as though railways are particularly susceptible to strike action. I mean, what the hell is she going to do the next time bus drivers strike or something? And then air traffic controllers? With a stubborn attitude like that, she’ll be marooned in whatever wee dump she lives in for the rest of her life.

I have to say, even this bare-bones train service is pretty good. The train I normally take on a Wednesday morning is usually packed out, but today it was almost deserted (this was before the strike began at noon). I got a normal train back in the middle of the afternoon, and it was as if nothing had happened! (Mind you, I dread to think what the last train was like.)

Tomorrow we will still be getting a train an hour (or maybe two; I’m not sure if I’ve read information correctly) between Fife and Edinburgh. It is a step down from what we are normally used to, for sure. But if demand remains as depressed as it was today, it will be no big problem.

What is a real bummer is the fact that I am planning to go to Dundee tomorrow for a friend’s 21st, and there are no trains going any further than Markinch. This is the first time I will have done anything vaguely fun since new year. I am already making a few sacrifices for it (although I am determined to go, for the sake of my sanity — I’ll burn out otherwise).

It is very annoying for this to coincide with the strike. I will have to take the bus. I absolutely hate buses. They are uncomfortable, full of neds and they always take bloody ages. They are subject to road congestion. They are far less safe than trains. And they are expensive. And I always bash my head on the ceiling when I sit down!

Apparently there are no direct buses from Kirkcaldy to Dundee. You have to get a bus to Glenrothes first. And it takes about two hours. I don’t really have enough time tomorrow as it is. What a pain! Imagine if the trains were always off.

There was something interesting in that report about Scottish blogging on Radio Scotland from a couple of weeks ago that I never got around to writing about.

Tim Montgomerie of 18 Doughty Street and Conservative Home was asked about a concern that some people might have about the blogosphere — that people who don’t actually know very much about what they’re writing about can gain a lot of influence. Montgomerie responded by saying that the bloggers that got the most attention were the people who did know something about what they’re writing about.

When I was interviewed for a piece on Radio Scotland last year, I also suggested that the most successful bloggers were people who probably would have been well-known campaigners or journalists anyway (although as I recall, this bit wasn’t used in the broadcast). I cited Iain Dale as an example. His blog is one of the biggest around at the moment, and he was clearly a big figure on the political scene before blogging took off.

Will Patterson then spoiled the whole illusion by going on to suggest that I am one of the bloggers that everybody reads. Well I have to hold my hands up and say that I am one of those bloggers who don’t really know much about what they’re writing about.

Clearly, the idea that “those who do know” are the only successful (or even worthwhile) bloggers is only part of the story about blogs. If it were the case that big names are the only important ones, citizen journalism wouldn’t be seen as important and The Long Tail wouldn’t exist in the blogosphere.

To ask for bloggers to be expert policy analysts misses the big point about blogging, which is that any old Joe Blogs can get out and express his opinion to a wide audience. “How boring,” you might think — and you might be right. I find it absurd that anybody should read my blog. I am only 20 for a start, and I’m a very mundane person. I have almost no life experience and I’m certainly not in any position to be telling Mr X to do y.

But that’s not the point. If you say, “well, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, so why should his opinions matter?”, then you might as well throw the whole idea of liberal democracy out of the window. The great thing about blogging is that it is ordinary people — some more expert than others — who are getting their thoughts out there in the open.

I used to struggle to understand why I like blogs so much while I’ve ended up getting less and less of my news via traditional outlets. Recently it struck me. It is common for people to say that all politicians are lying, spinning or toeing the party line. The reason they do this, of course, is that they do not appear on the news in a personal capacity — they do so as a representative of their political party. Of course they will be expected to toe the party line. They would probably be out of a job if they didn’t.

But the same goes for everybody that appears on the news. If it isn’t a politician it will be somebody representing some other organisation — a pressure group, a trade union, a business, whatever. Even when I or Will P or any other bloggers crop up on the news, it is only in our capacity as representatives of (or experts on) the blogosphere.

I’ll sit there watching the news thinking, “can I really believe this person?” They are all experts in their field for sure. But they are also in their ivory towers, seeing things from their blinkered perspectives. Isn’t it strange that ordinary people — who, by definition, make up the vast majority of the population — are seldom properly represented in the mainstream media apart from in some uncomfortable ‘Speak Your Brains’ segment?

The fact that ordinary people who don’t necessarily have an agenda to push or a party line to toe are gaining some influence should be seen as refreshing, not bothersome. I know I’d much rather read the opinions of ordinary people rather than somebody with an agenda to push. I think most other people do as well. Like I said, I am a mundane person and certainly not in a position to be an expert on anything. But plenty of people still read my blog.

Mark Lawson, in an article he wrote having obviously only ever read about half a dozen blogs in his life, once said that:

At its worst, blogworld most resembles a radio phone-in for leftwing men but without a Victoria Derbyshire or Brian Hayes to interrupt the callers who lose the thread and start to free-associate.

This is part of the problem a lot of bloggers have with the “mainstream media”. ‘Ordinary people need to know their place, and we journalists have to be there to let them know when to shut up.’ So you have an letters page in the newspaper which is supposed to represent the views of the ordinary readers — which it does, but only at the say so of an editor. And you have radio phone-in shows where ordinary listeners are often summarily cut off in their prime.

A lot of the people who phone up a radio station do often deserve to be cut off. But here is another magical thing about blogging. We bloggers are having proper debates. We don’t have to worry about squeezing our point in before the news. If somebody disagrees with us they can simply respond either in the comments or on their own blogs.

Soon enough you find out who knows what they’re talking about and who doesn’t. Poorly-formed opinions have to be revised as they are challenged by others. What we have is the wisdom of crowds. Even though many (but by no means all) of us may not be experts, bad ideas soon get weeded out. This is proper, adult (usually) discussion between — whisper it quietly — ordinary people.

That should be embraced, not snootily ridiculed.