In an age when so much experimental music is concerned with seizing upon exciting new effects of appropriate novelty and timelessness, it is heartening to hear the old “infinite world of the real” occasionally proffering impressive acoustic gurgles of its own, often in the dirtiest of places.

Heavy-laden with electromagnetic clamps and batteries, I am often interrupted by suspicious passersby during my acoustical experiments in tunnels, industrial estates, and multi-story car parks.

"Lurch,” “Creep,” “Sponger,” “Murkman,” “Worm,” “Tosser,” “Freak,” “Ratty,” “Unhealthy One,” “Tramp,” “Mr. Abnormal,” “Village Idiot,” “Twat,” “Minger”: These are just some of the many foul vocalizations regularly floated in my direction during outdoor strolls.