Name That Tune

Voice recognition has come a long way in recent years, but what about melody recognition? Just spent 10 minutes at Midomi, a new search engine that lets you sing, whistle, or hum a few bars into a Flash-based recording widget, runs a whole bunch of voodoo analysis on your input, and spits back results based on what song it thinks you must have intended. Potentially great for those times when you remember how a song goes but not what it’s called, or any of the lyrics. The goal is to sell you downloadable versions of the search results, but based on the miserable output it generated for me, it’s back to whistling for friends and co-workers – Midomi batted nearly zero.

Started with PiL’s “Track 8” – Midomi thought I was singing “The Rainbow Connection.” Whether that’s a limitation of the technology, or a matter of the song being too obscure, or that my rendition would have been unrecognizable even to humans, I don’t know. But when I couldn’t get it to recognize “Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay,” my confidence in the technology’s ability to recognize common songs plummeted. My attempt to render Herb Alpert’s “Spanish Flea” fell flat as well (Midomi thought I was humming “A Spoonful of Sugar” — yipes. Tried whistling the same song rather than humming, but no dice — Midomi interpreted that attempt as “My Sharona.” Captain Beefheart’s “Orange Claw Hammer,” according to Midomi, must be a drunken version of “Edelweiss.”

Amy’s a better singer than me, so turned her loose. When Midomi guessed that her version of “Fly Me to the Moon” must have been one of “Like a Virgin,” “Rhiannon,” or “Ebony and Ivory,” she lost interest. Finally hit paydirt with “Happy Birthday,” but sheesh.

Music: Loudon Wainwright III :: Just A John

Harryhausen and the Cephalopods

Nice collection of early stop-motion animations by the great Ray Harryhausen.

Arguably, Ray Harryhausen’s creations aren’t the most realistic in the realm of special effects, nor will his films ever join the ranks of cinema’s classics. Yet Ray’s touch can be instantly recognized. His creations are absolutely alive; in each frame his creatures move, twitch, breathe, act with a personality and pathos that can only be ascribed to a direct connection to Ray.

CyclopsThe samples are brief, but quickly raise memories of lazy Sunday afternoons watching TV at cousins’ and friends’ houses in the 1970s, when this flavor of model/miniature animation was already old, but was new to me. Today the line between what’s real and what’s not in cinema is not only blurry, it’s gone. But through most of film history, the line was clear as day, so more suspension of disbelief was required on the part of the viewer. I think there’s something valuable in that. And also something enjoyable.

Update: Video collage of some of Harryhausen’s work (via Weblogsky):

Music: Stereolab :: Harmonium

Walkie Tallkies

Miles Walkietalkie Green Miles and I made walkie talkies today. He’s getting way into helping, which means I need to find a way for him to contribute to just about every home project. And he’s been getting curious about the vice in the garage, which led to cutting and hammering and sanding opportunities. Which lead to this pair of dynamite phones.

He signed up for the basic plan, which is fine for starters, and very affordable, though coverage was lousy – 30′ max range before he started breaking up. Can you hear me now?

“Hello, Porridge?” “Miles, who is Porridge?” “Porridge is another name for God.”

Nothingland

Amy transcribed a conversation with Miles earlier today:

I asked M to go wash his hands. After 5 minutes, I hear the water still running in the bathroom. When I get in there, find that he’s carefully shredded nearly an entire bar of soap by digging into it with his little fingernails. There’s a mound of shredded soap in the sink and no water is going down the drain.

Me: Miles, where do you get all these ideas?

M: From Nothingland

Me: Where’s Nothiingland?

M: It’s just 2 blocks from Legoland.

Me: Do you have to go there to get these ideas?

M: Yes, I go on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays.

Me: Do you go there in reality, or in your imagination?

M: I go there in my imagination. Nothingland is where there is nothing, but if you use your imagination, you will figure out that there really is something there. There’s no one there except for me. If you go to Nothingland, you can get a cake or a coin. If you go to Nothingland, you can go on a Easter egg hunt, and if you use a different imagination, you can get a shower bath. At Nothingland, I can go to Nothingland with our pets Plato and Louise. They don’t get lost in Nothingland, because wherever they go, I go. At Nothingland, Louise and Plato like to get coins and cakes. If you go to Nothingland, you can get a new puzzle, but the new puzzle is only for playing with at Nothingland. If you go to Nothingland, you can get a new cat to go to Nothingland with you, and at Nothingland, it’s okay if somebody else goes to Nothingland with me.

Music: Half man half biscuit :: Four skinny indie kids

Stinky Sponge Debacle

Buzz earlier this week about the fact that stinky kitchen sponges can be made fresh again by microwaving them for two minutes. What the widely distributed article didn’t say (originally) was that you need to make sure the sponge is wet before firing the bacterial death ray. Microwave experiments cause sponge disasters:

“Just wanted you to know that your article on microwaving sponges and scrubbers aroused my interest. However, when I put my sponge/scrubber into the microwave, it caught fire, smoked up the house, ruined my microwave, and pissed me off,” one correspondent wrote in an e-mail to Reuters.

Mark Morford, amazing/insane as always, riffs on the debacle, and on our national obsession with germs.

Wait, there’s more. What’s the most germ-clogged, festering item on your body right now (besides, of course, your body itself)? That would be your cell phone, silly. After all, it just sits there all day, simmering in the happy juices of your toasty pants pocket, churning out microbes of horror like Paris Hilton churns out intimations of death. And you put that thing up to your face without first disinfecting it with some ethyl alcohol and a flamethrower? What are you, high?

For our part, we’re just amazed that it takes so much longer for kitchen sponges to get stinky now that we’ve got that little humidity problem under control. Amazed.

Music: Who, The :: Go To The Mirror Boy

Avid Pushing Garage Band

Why is Avid / Digidesign suddenly pushing Garage Band rather than Pro Tools? Is there an implicit acknowledgment here that PT is too complicated / expensive for a huge swath of users? Maybe this doesn’t seem weird to others — of course Avid can still sell you the hardware, even if you don’t go for their integrated M-Box/Pro Tools package. Maybe it strikes me as odd because of the endless battles we’ve gone through at work over the question of whether PT is overkill for our users (we’re now teaching Soundtrack Pro to multimedia journalism students rather than Pro Tools, so I guess we landed somewhere in between).

Apple profiles ukulele master Lyle Ritz, who recorded his latest album No Frills entirely in Garage Band (at age 75 no less). And it does sound gorgeous.

Music: Minutemen :: Bermuda

Scrybe

There’s a lot of competition in the web-based calendaring / personal time & resource management space, but there’s something special about Scrybe, now in extended beta. “Focus on details without losing the surrounding context.” The demo video is impressive. Cross-platform, syncs between multiple computers, off-line mode, smooth interface, some nice innovations. A little Backpack, a little Exchange Server, a little Ajax… nothing earthshaking overall, but seems really well put-together, and solves real-world problems. The “Thoughtstream” feature seems innovative. Haven’t joined the beta (which is currently in waitlist mode), but will keep an eye on this.

Thanks Rob

Music: Nino Rota :: Apollonia

The Purloined Sirloin

Quick: What’s the most commonly shoplifted item in America? Batteries? Makeup? Candy? According to the Food Marketing Institute, it’s meat. Didn’t used to be. A couple years ago, meat took a back seat to cough medicines, which were often stolen by meth chefs. But when those medicines went behind the counter, meat was promoted to first place. So who’s lifting rib-eye? The occasional kleptomaniac, starving student, or dude on a dare, sure, but the bulk of beef is pilfered by house mums. Slate:

Though men and women shoplift in equal numbers, such aspirational meatlifters are most likely to be gainfully employed women between 35 and 54, according to a 2005 University of Florida study.

So apparently the practice is not only more widespread than I would have thought, but apparently commonly practiced by a demographic I would never have suspected. Which got me thinking: What percentage of Birdhouse readers are clandestine meat poachers?

Have you ever stolen meat?

View Results

Music: Ralph Carney :: Krelm

Woofers

Woofer3

Designed by Sander Mulder & Dave Keune, Buro Vormkrijgers. This is functional kitsch; the wrong becomes the new right. By adding a function to an otherwise grotesque object, it acquires new aesthetic values, becoming an object of desire. Pun intended, this woofer holds the mids between an addition to your sound system and your loyal 4 footed companion. Available in a co-axial two way speaker system version [two dogs].

Fun as they are, somehow I just can’t see giving over my audio to a visual gag certain to wear thin after a few weeks. Or to have to repeatedly answer the obvious next question: “Are your tweeters shaped like birds?” Especially for 600 Euros.

Music: Stereolab :: The Brush Descends The Length

Farmboy Wakeboarding

Wakethumb Returning home from a weekend snowboard trip, got off the highway at a random exit to enjoy coffee and the sunset. Behind me, a small canal and some tall weeds. Heard some splashing, some voices. “Everything OK?” someone called out. “Just wondering what you were doing,” I answered. “Come around and check it out,” the voice responded. Walked around the fence to find three guys with a gas-powered winch, a tow-rope, and a couple of wakeboards, getting air in a 5-ft.-wide, inches-deep canal, in which they had built a trick rail out of 4x4s. By itself, the tricks were nothing special, but the idea of using a winch instead of a boat, and having the cojones to do it in such a narrow space, impressed the hell out of me (especially after one dude missed the canal entirely and landed on the bank, rolled and walked away). They invited me to give it a go. And I would have, for want of a wetsuit. Flickr images