I went to a live coding workshop a few weeks ago, but it did not immediately convince me as a production tool. Compared with live coding, Ableton feels much more intuitive and efficient for the way I work. However, what unexpectedly stayed with me was not the technical side of live coding, but its visual logic. The code itself is graphic, diagrammatic, and strangely literal. Sound is not only hear but seen through language.


This influenced how I returned to my own practice in Ableton. In previous experiments, I chopped samples into Drum Racks and built an Effect Rack designed to generate continuous, non-repetitive random notes. This time, instead of treating MIDI as a neutral control system, I started drawing directly onto the MIDI clips. The visual pattern on the grid became compositional material. The result is that sound is now triggered not only by timing, but by image. The pattern becomes a graphic translation of memetic sound, and the MIDI grid becomes a kind of score-diagram hybrid.



At the same time, while researching subliminal audio for my audio paper project, I came across the concept of binaural beats. I did not apply the term intentionally during production, but I found myself instinctively adding auto-pan to one track. Later, Ingrid pointed out how effective it was. It made me realise that spatial movement in sound plays a crucial role in producing a body-mind listening experience. The sound constantly circulates inside the head to create a sense of stable instability, which is what Ingrid felt “hypnotic “.
In terms of aesthetic influence, I was thinking a lot about DJ Gurl — particularly her use of collage and glitch as both method and attitude. However, my own approach became more abrasive and less nostalgic. Rather than referencing a specific past, I wanted to construct a carnival-like compression of online sound culture: chaotic, overstimulating, seductive and exhausting at the same time. If DJ Gurl samples pop memory, I sample network fatigue. The dissociation I am interested in does not come from remembering too much, but from scrolling too fast.