OscarUnderdog’s curated chaos: a bumpy ride through randomness

OscarUnderdog kicks off with the concept of ‘curated randomness’, a term that might sound like the name of a post-punk band but actually encapsulates a rather unique approach to electronic music. It’s all about harnessing the unpredictability of sound—much like letting loose a stag party in a quiet suburban street—and capturing these moments, shaping them into something cohesive. He nostalgically refers to his youthful obsession with Aphex Twin, whose chaotic but controlled soundscapes inspired him profoundly. He’s dead set on showing us how to replicate this on our own, using Ableton Live and a trusty loop, guiding us to embrace the unpredictable with open arms.

We delve deeper into the mechanics of generating random soundscapes. Oscar demonstrates how to set up a MIDI track with a step sequencer and simple sine waves, tipping his hat to those humble beginnings that pave the way to sound exploration. The real madness, however, is unleashed with the BeatSurfing’s ‘The Cheat Code’ plugin, laden with an almighty randomise button—Oscar’s own digital equivalent of shaking a bottle of fizzy drink and waiting to see what happens. He shows us how subtle tweaks and random clicks can open Pandora’s box of audio wonders. Adding an element of suspense, Oscar toggles through various effects, proving that the best gems often hide within chaos. One can almost hear the echoes of dubstep days when experimentation ruled, something Oscar seems to relish in. This section is a veritable lesson in letting go of control to discover unexpected brilliance.

Onward to the art of curation, Oscar reveals his methods for cherry-picking those shiny audio nuggets from the mire of noise. This isn’t just rummaging through a bargain bin but rather a delicate dance, where each chosen sound becomes a piece of the larger mosaic. By recording his sonic experiments onto a ‘recorded randomness’ track, Oscar extracts what he calls ‘curated randomness’. It’s about layering chaos until it transforms into something musically intriguing. With finesse, he manipulates audio to fit the story he’s weaving, creating turnarounds and transitions that keep listeners on their toes. He emphasises that with enough messing about, even what initially seems like utter cacophony can turn golden. It’s this curator’s touch that singles out a true producer from a mere button-masher.

As we tumble down the rabbit hole, Oscar switches gears to randomised drum patterns. He builds what he unabashedly describes as ‘the most annoying pattern in the world’—a bold move reminiscent of a punk’s disdain for harmony. Yet, there’s method in his madness. By slapping on random pitch effects, he demonstrates it in all its chaotic glory. It’s an auditory punch, with high stakes and explosive outcomes that either make you want to mosh or scream—a visceral reminder of the potential havoc buried in electronically-generated drums. Oscar doesn’t shy away from admitting that a lot of the sounds won’t make the cut, but that’s where the magic of curation steps in, transforming a discordant mess into rhythmic art.