Dataphon – 2311
Dataphon is a tough guy to contact since he relocated. Traditional channels of communication are spotty where he lives, and I’m never sure if my messages will make it through. But for Source Foray, I knew I had to try and reach out.
Although it’s unclear how, Dataphon’s equipment setup seems to have been frozen in the late 90s. When I send him messages–the only reason I still use IRC–I believe it goes through a relay service I can’t begin to understand. With my fingers crossed, I typed a message to explain the label and the compilation, describe the ideas and design, and ask for his contribution.
A gilded, unmanned drone showed up at my door some three weeks later. I could not capture it on camera, and though it had no propellers or jets, it hovered silently until I took the unmarked envelope hanging below it. It then disappeared from view, not unlike David Fravor’s description of the tic tacs he saw off the coast of California. Inside the envelope, there was a note that simply said, “YES, ONE MONTH -TMZ”.
As the rest of the compilation came together, I waited with baited breath for another communiqué from Dataphon. After three weeks, a set of coordinates with a date and time arrived via IRC. I made travel arrangements to the location given, which appeared to be an uninhabited island in the Florida Keys. I arrived at the time given, precisely a month after the drone response.
I have never had to board a submarine to receive a master, but so it goes with Dataphon. I walked to the end of the dock, got in the single-man sub, and trusted that I would be shuttled to the right place. The hatch closed, and the interior lighting provided a faint glow as it set off. It deftly navigated coral reefs, stingrays, and schools of marlin before ducking into a dark trench just beyond the continental shelf. A cloudy, metallic structure appeared faintly in the distance, and although the sub stopped before it came clearly into view, it had the appearance of some sort of outpost secured into the trench wall. Definitely not a natural formation.
The sub spun to the opposite trench wall, and as a spotlight shone, a mechanical arm retrieved a blue, waterproof Seahorse case. Once inside, I flipped the latches and found a DAT labeled “2311”. The sub turned and sped off, and I was soon back to the dock. You luckily won’t have to suffer the unbearable wait it took to find a DAT player and hear this masterful, dark, immersive piece of music like I did. But when dealing with genius like Dataphon’s, you work on his terms, and I’m thankful to be able to make his music accessible to the world.
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