The Tinnitus Chorus by Michael Scott Dawson

Review written by Hollis K.

If there were an album that evoked Sunday evenings, this would be the one. The Tinnitus Chorus is slow, comforting, nostalgic, and driven by community. The album is produced by the Canadian sound artist Michael Scott Dawson who is affected by tinnitus, which colors and inspires the making of this latest album. On Dawson’s Bandcamp he writes on how tinnitus affects him: “The clicks, ringing tones, and hiss in his ears had been drowning out the ringing tones, clicks, and hiss in his studio.” Originally while working on this album Dawson found a difficulty due to his tinnitus, when showing to his label they suggested for him to collaborate with other musicians. This led to the invitation of a different musician for every song with the exception of Michael Grigori, which became the bookend collaborator of the album, assisting in the creation of Mojave Flowers and Traveling Light, wrapping up the full album to contain 10 collaborative songs. These partnerships are a mix of good friends and kind strangers, all working to produce an experimental soundscape album that embodies a community of artists rather than one. With the help of Dawson and his collaborators, he eventually released the album on September 6th, 2024.

The album might be composed of many artists, but Dawson does a wonderful job creating a throughline throughout the album. He does this by being the composer and the main artist of each song, while contributing artist assists with the composing and music of the songs. Allowing each song uniquely demonstrates the talents of each collaborating artist while being grounded in Dawson’s own production style, allowing each song reflect and flow into each other with ease. Fondness, worked on with Vumbi Dekula is chipper, the lightness of the guitar mixes with the high chirping of the birds. The two guitars have a call and response in conversation, one is more commanding than the other while the other plays underneath it. When you can’t hear the guitars the sound of birds and hums of various other ambient noises fill the gaps. At the same time, The Treadmill of My Worries, produced with Peace Flag Ensemble, focuses much more on slow drawn-out music. It’s produced mostly with sax and piano, which builds an internal conversation, the saxophone and piano aren’t just playing together, but instead talking. There’s a push and pull between them that speak, with airy ambient noise in the background. The whole album is a conversation between sounds and instruments. In turn the songs then become conversations themselves. The repeated use of the sax, piano, birds, and static fills the ambient music.

Even though the album is only 43 minutes long it feels much longer. Through the melding of sounds creating a “kaleidoscope” effect of noise and texture, this allows one to get lost in the noise making it feel far longer than what it actually is. The part that really sold this for me is the static, I found the ambient noise to pass through my ears, making even the most empty or silent parts never truly lonely. The constant presence throughout the album became a comforting anchor as I listened. While it reminded me of the white noise I listen to while trying to fall asleep, I imagine for Dawson it could be a simple reminder of tinnitus that follows him in his music-making. The longest song, Mojave Flowers, white only 4 minutes and 31 seconds feels closer to an afternoon. Much like how the music mixes its sounds, the music blends well into one’s life. It weaves its way through the listener’s own life including my own. A product of Dawson’s free uses of everyday life, birds, water, static, and much more. The music isn’t just an encapsulation of instruments and random noises but instead of the noises found in everyday life, that adds a layer of nostalgia that can resonate with many people.

Many of these pieces are like a conversation, they feel in the moment, one piece that reflects this feeling is Present day. While only being 2 minutes and 54 seconds the quality of the music made me wonder when and if it’ll ever end, each song feels like it could go on for hours. If Dawson wanted to, he could extend all the songs into their own albums. Instead, they are left brief, with each song a simple gesture and sketch. Making the choice to ruminate on them longer is up to the viewer, something I felt myself doing. Present day I choose to put it on repeat while cooking, and for many of the other songs I would do the same, choosing to stay with them rather than moving on through the album.

While this album isn’t what I traditionally listen to, I found myself listening to it on longer car rides, commutes on the bus, working on homework, cooking, and sleeping. Through 12 tracks I could pick up any song and allow it to fall into the back of my mind, from the inviting sax to the birds that fly by every once in a while, a collage of sounds and instruments, that once in a while introduce voice. This album is one that I have found myself falling peacefully asleep to, but while it falls to the back of my mind it’s also incredibly activating. It wipes the constant noise in my mind and instead replaces it with itself. That’s where the beauty of this album comes from; it doesn’t take over space but instead joins, becoming a wandering guest that doesn’t intrude but enriches its moments. Through sound, noise, and texture, this experimental album presents the true wonder of collaboration and creates a rich dense album to get lost and wander in.