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I have never been more enamored by a country quite like Sri Lanka. As ubiquitous as poverty is, right alongside the high infant mortality rates, these people are albeit proud, educated, genuinely hospitable, and spiritual.

For example, my guide Carlu had an advanced collegiate degree, could speak several languages fluently, knew almost every single plant and animal by both their Latin and common names including hilarious scientific anecdotes, but most importantly he was remarkably at ease and eager to discuss the meaning of life for hours on end during the lazy evening hours.

Even though he was in his sixties, he was tireless. One morning he forgot to arrange for my brunch to be packed up for the field, so without comment we promptly stopped at a small communal village so that he could buy me a meal (equivalent to several days’ worth of wages). I irrevocably pried the truth out of him and he confessed that he’d rather labor for days than to have me skip a brunch because he was forgetful. I gave him a kiss on the cheek and squeezed his testicles.

Carlu is just one of the many reasons that Arthur C. Clarke (author of 2001: A Space Odyssey, R.I.P March 19, 2008) lived here, which introduces how I had come to visit Sri Lanka in the first place.

A good childhood friend of mine had just returned from Sri Lanka on a business trip, and she suggested that I travel to the island country to record some of the environment because the denizens are so spiritually uplifting. Though despite the dense population, she assured me that it was also a quiet place, relatively free of noise pollution in the rural areas. The biosphere reserves are very well respected and preserved which to my favor complemented generously my existing library of environmental ambience and wildlife recordings.

She also suggested that I write to Sir Clarke, “You needn’t an address for a badass motherfucker like Arthur C. Clarke, just use Colombo, Sri Lanka, and it’ll get to him.” Oy, could there really be such a place left in this world? I wrote the correspondence letter that same day. Three weeks later, I received a hand written letter in my mailbox from Mr. Clarke graciously referring me to several scholars and experts on nature and Carlu was one of them.

Carlu took me to the Kanneliya Forest, Hurulu Reserve, Horton Plains, and Kalutara Beach, and all four places produced environmental ambience recordings of sexcellent quality.

Sleepy Beach Waves takes place on the secluded Kalutara Beach, which is a long, narrow strip of land of situated 38 kilometers south of Mr. Clarke’s house and rests between the waters of the Laccadive Sea and a wider inlet of water to the east.

The weather and tide conditions were nothing short of perfect that evening — a crème de la crème of widely spaced waves sweeping singularly and sensuously across the smooth, moist, shimmering sand. The lush ebb and flow of waves — both distant and near — gently caress the shore as they break and recede, leaving a light hissing symphonic trail of sound as the surf ever so softly sizzles itself in.

There was no wind at all, which was pretty rare for an open beach — so I removed the microphone windscreens to allow every creamy little detail to be recorded. At the conclusion of this hour long field recording session I snapped up this photo.

Relaxing beach ambience at its best - without the seagulls, without the swimmers, without the sailors. No birds, no animals, no people, no music. No looping or layering effects were used. This is one full hour of pure, unadulterated, wholesome beach waves — both distant and near — lapping against the sun-kissed sandy shores of the Kalutara on a sleepy September sunset twilight.

This soundscape captures the most primal essence of stranded seaside serenity and solitude in 360-degree binaural surround sound. Ah… so peaceful here. Yet there’s fighting going on somewhere at this very minute. Put on a pair of stereo headphones and dare to cast yourself away.

Duration: 65 minutes 37 seconds.
Size: 90.1 MB.
Bitrate encoded at 192 kbps for finest audio reproduction.

Far beyond the hectic concrete jungle of modern life there exists a parallel reality, an undiscovered world where you can still see and hear things in their purest and most innocent forms.

This field recording situated at the end of a cavern is as primal as it gets. Listen and swathe yourself in melancholy as you experience a private world perhaps as old as human consciousness itself where the most primeval origin and essence of human personal security remains preserved.

Chill out and relax to the low, slow, halcyon breaths of the Atlantic as they resonate, naturally lulled and muffled, into the hollow undulating tunnel walls of nature’s own reverberator — the deep claustral interior of a secluded beachfront cavern I found off the coast of Lydstep Beach.

The cavern is shaped like the human ear canal which collects sounds naturally — the sound of the tide sweeping against the granite walls of the cavern all amalgamate and bounce towards the center where my mikes are carefully positioned.

A deep, smooth, dark ambient texture of prenatal, primordial memories… where the only porn that existed in our time was no more grandiose than horribly malproportioned phalluses on the walls of such most humble abodes.

Duration: 65 minutes 05 seconds.
Size: 89.3 MB.
Bitrate encoded at 192 kbps for finest audio reproduction.