Women by Binaural Space
When I was a kid – more decades ago than I’d like to admit – my parents gave my brother and me a tiny portable keyboard made by Casio. They smuggled it into the then socialist Czechoslovakia.
While my brother didn’t care about it, I was immediately fascinated. My parents have a photo of that first moment when we received our gift. The indifference of my brother, and my fever from excitement and eagerness to play and record with it, are both palpable.
It was a funny little toy, but we had had just a piano before that day, and this was the first electronic instrument we’d ever received. And the last one, too, because my parents, both teachers, knew that the best kind of upbringing worked like this: “You want a real synthesizer? Show us it’s not just a whim, and earn the money. (And I did. And again, and again, and again. But that was years later. Years filled with drawing synthesizers, dreaming about them, and looking forward to the hopefully close future when I would have made enough money to buy one.)
I recorded a few amateur “albums” with that little Casio keyboard, on my dad’s four-track R2R. I made my first film music using that keyboard, too, when I was 14. And I had my first concert, at our primary school, organized by my teacher who’s been my dear friend since then. (The only irl friend who’s known about all this Binaural Space craze, btw.) My goal was to impress the girls I liked at that “gig”, but to my surprise, the magic worked on schoolmates in general, as well as teachers.
…
Two years later I fell in love for the first time. She was attending the same school, and one afternoon, while passing the lunch line in the school, she took my breath away. I had probably seen her many times before that, but this was The Moment. I’d never seen anyone that beautiful (still haven’t in a way) – and I was lucky to be the first one who noticed. A year later I had more rivals than friends, but that would be another story.
I accompanied her home half an hour later. She told me to wait a moment, picked up her dog, and we began dating – just like that. I was the happiest boy in the entire Universe. On the one hand, it was just a childhood crush. On the other other hand, I would love her for the following six years (and, one more “in a way”, for the rest of my days).
Anyway, there was a moment, back when I was still 12 or 13, when I realized two things: First, music is my calling. My mission, my love, my fate. Second, the feeling of being with a girl I loved, the combination of deep attraction, her fragility, tenderness and yet her huge power over me, was something that I wanted to feel for my whole life, and suspected (correctly), it would bring me many troubles on my way through life.
(I’m aware many women nowadays don’t want to be connected with words like fragility or tenderness, or to trigger protective instincts – but I was twelve, remember? What did I know about life in the 21st century except for the fact all our cars would be flying by then… The same applies for the artwork of this album. If you can, perceive it with a wonder of a teenage boy, enchanted by the breathtaking beauties in the 80’s and 90's.)
…
This album will come out on March 3, International Women’s Day. I have known for six years I wanted to make an album called Women. Since then the world as well as the meaning of the word have changed radically, unevenly, and in discord, so I’ve decided to focus only or “my” women.
Not “my” as in women I would possess or have any right to own (no one can, and if they do they should’t be allowed to – see? Even this simple truth that no one should be allowed to own another person is controversial.).
“My women” means the women I’ve been lucky & privileged to meet and share a mutual attraction with, the deepest connection, nights full of walking or talking or stargazing or lovemaking or just kissing or healing or understanding or just being together, and days spent by planning the nights (among other things; there are little jokes in this text, and I apologize).
I’m grateful to every woman I’ve had the luck to spend some time that was only ours with (and thanks to the experiences with all of which I’ll never do stupid things like many guys my age, leaving their families for a chimera). But this is an album of limited selection of those that have influenced my life the most, in sharing something formative, deep and precious with me for the first time (not theirs necessarily; my first time), or, in a few cases, the last time. An album about and for those I’ll never be able to pay back entirely (and that’s OK; transactions belong to business, not love).
One track is dedicated to the girl I had my first kiss with during the summer holidays after my 1st grade, another track to the camp counselor intern, several years older than me, whom I liked very, very much, and who was making out with me for the whole night of our camp patrol on which we were both happy to not wake the following patrols up… There’s one for and about that girl at the basic school, the biggest love of my childhood andteen years. One track for the nurse who took care of my head broken by a wine bottle, and for whom I would compose a song about her, and we began dating… One about my first serious love who would eventually break my heart, one about the next one whose heart would be broken by me, and one about my wife and life partner of 20 years, the dearest of them all, and first one I’ve always had something to talk about, to laugh together, the one who carried both our kids in her magical body, which is why I celebrate Mother’s Day with her more than the Women’s one…
Some of them were judged as bad for me by my family or friends. But the truth is each of them helped me reveal, understand, and seek for something I wouldn’t have appreciated without spending some time with them.
Maybe it’s against the protocol to make an album called Women about just seven of them (out of… well, over 50 % of the population), but hell, there have been albums made about the six wives of Henry VIII, women in technology, or women that raised someone, so…
On all the seven tracks featured on this album just one music instrument was used: That almost four decades old tiny portable keyboard.
My fingers play its tiny keys, one of which is broken, my DIY tape loops (seven different cassettes or at least sides) give it a special lo-fi treatment, but also a lag with which it’s challenging to play (especially that one faster piece), and for every single track this duo (or trio, if you include me, the humble composer and lousy performer of these simple tunes) is accompanied by effect pedals – a different one for each track.
Women isn’t my musically best albums – by far, I’m well aware – and it is so by definition. But it is as honest and authentic as it gets – and I might be an old–school, but in the times when even art is constantly made by machines (and appreciated by real people, which is even worse), authenticity is (for me at least) something to aspire for every single time.
I wanted to end these notes with a sentence like “I hope you like this album,” but I realized I don’t hope in anything in this matter. The album is my little tribute to a little collective, joined by a lucky encounter (lucky for me) – but if it resonates with you, I’ll be glad (and if you let me know, maybe even happy).
Thank you for staying with me for this long read, thank you for your support, and for appreciating women (or, at least, Women 😉). Happy International Women’s Day tomorrow!
Binaural Space, March 2025
Credits
Artwork by pH
License
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Ambient traditionalists say to Binaural Space what the Emperor said to Mozart: “Too many notes.” In both cases, the rest of the world tends to disagree.