Before I start, I want to make something clear. I do not rely on AI to write my articles. Everything you read here comes directly from my own experience and exploration.
Since I just wrapped up a new collection of sounds called Curious Mechanisms, I felt it was important to share a more detailed look at the ideas, process, and stories behind this project.
I’ve always been fascinated by unusual sounds created by odd, forgotten, or simply overlooked objects. Even as a child, I would strike anything around me to build little orchestras of noise. I spent hours discovering the tones of household items and recording my own strange sound pieces on a tape recorder. As my work in audio became more professional, that fascination naturally evolved into a deeper curiosity for mechanisms and machines that produce distinctive textures.
For almost a decade now, I’ve been recording and collecting sounds from interesting mechanical devices. Old and rusty machines, in particular, have an incredible amount of character. They carry a sense of memory. Their noises seem to echo a past era or a forgotten purpose. Each sound feels like opening a small treasure chest; every click, rattle, and sequence hides an entire story waiting to be revealed.
When gears engage and begin to rattle in sequence, they form their own rhythm. When they are well adjusted, the cadence can be surprisingly exhilarating. The repetition becomes a kind of music that transcends cultural boundaries. There is something whimsical about it. Something universal.
Antique Clocks
I recorded hundreds of clocks over the years. In 2018, while traveling through Switzerland and France, I discovered incredible antique clocks in the Alpine region, an area famous for clockmaking. Later, I visited several clock collections and museums in the United States, and eventually the Canadian Clock Museum, where I experienced some of the most fascinating clocks of my life. The founder generously showed me his collection, and it was astonishing how each clock had its own story. Because antique clocks do not rely on electricity, they need to be rewound periodically, and their timing depends entirely on the internal mechanism.
Different materials also produce different tones. Oak sounds different from mahogany, and a clock built with a full wooden mechanism has a completely distinct character compared to one made of metal. The chimes add another dimension. Antique clocks generally feature three main chime melodies, the most famous being the Westminster chime, which nearly everyone has heard at least once. Other clocks chime quietly at half hours, or every twenty minutes, depending on the mechanism. The variety is immense. And of course, the cuckoo remains one of the most charming mechanical sounds ever created.
What was particularly satisfying is that I managed to capture a wide range of characters, with close detail and strong presence. Many recordings were made at 192 kHz using the Sanken CO-100k, and I preserved the acoustic signature by pairing it with a stereo setup.
What was less ideal, however, was the noisiness of the environments. Clocks produce extremely low-intensity sounds, so when recording with sensitive microphones, you inevitably capture environmental noise if it is present. Recording in museums is challenging for this reason, as it is nearly impossible to avoid subtle background noises. My best recordings came from isolated rooms. I cleaned many recordings during editing, but some were impossible to salvage, and I had to discard a significant number. These types of objects really need a controlled recording environment. Sometimes I forget just how sensitive my microphones can be.
Out of roughly 300 recordings, I ended up keeping around 70 for the final collection. Interestingly, one of the clocks was a fluorescent model from the mid twentieth century that used radium, which we now know is radioactive. Naturally, radium is no longer used in household objects today, but it was a curious discovery worth mentioning.
My Custom Contraptions
After gathering and editing recordings from the past decade, I realized I could push the project further by creating my own mechanisms from scratch. I started with a hose reel I found online. Its empty circular structure made it perfect for experimenting. Through rotational movement, I could create repeated patterns, control speed, and attach various materials to generate unique rhythmic sequences.
The challenge was to develop a striking system. My first solution was to use a wooden strip loosely attached with elastic so it could rebound and build momentum. This worked well for delicate materials. For heavier impacts, I attached a bendable stick along the reel. Ironically, the one that worked best was originally a cat toy. It delivered enough force to strike the larger metal rods I mounted around the frame.
Overall, my contraption experiment proved excellent for producing very unique sounds, the kind you simply cannot find anywhere else. The resulting sequences may sound unusual at first, but they make complete sense in the right context. Because they are built on repeatable patterns, they can interact with music in dynamic ways, or even become musical elements on their own. I believe I could have pushed the experiment even further, and this is something I’ll keep in mind for the future. The process of developing this technique is valuable on its own and can be adapted to future projects whenever the opportunity arises. The whole experiment was a lot of fun, visually intuitive, and in my opinion has the potential to inspire other sound explorers.
Below are a few of the machines and mechanisms I appreciate the sonic character the most.
Calculator Felix
This mechanical calculator from the 1960s was designed for mathematical operations long before modern electronic calculators existed. I discovered it while browsing Etsy, and immediately knew I had to get one. Inside, the machine is full of cogwheels and interconnected parts. Everything is fully manual. You slide pins, turn wheels, crank levers. Even though I still don’t fully understand how to operate it as intended, it is incredibly fun to play with. I mainly use it for the rich and unusual sounds it produces.
Sugar Factory
During my stay in Mauritius, I visited an industrial sugar facility that processes sugarcane into one of the island’s most iconic products. The culture of sugarcane was introduced by the French in the 18th century, and the island has maintained a prolific sugar industry ever since. I personally enjoy the taste of unrefined brown sugar, known as Muscovado, which has its own world of flavors. The sounds I recorded there were from heavy industrial metal gears and machinery. These were powerful, resonant mechanical textures from a very specific environment.
Mini Manual Fan Toy
By chance, I stumble on these little ‘mini-fan’, they are not electric at all, only mechanical! They work manually with the force of a hand-driven trigger that is connected to a flywheel mechanism; the momentum allows the spinning of the blades. What struck me is that each of these little guy have a very unique sound signature.
Water-powered pounding mill
While traveling in Brasil, I stumble on this crazy mechanism, it’s the first time and the last I ever seen something like this, very ingenious system.
Some Others Impressions:
Lessons & Improvements
What I have learned and what could have been better:
- The most interesting sounds often originate from the most ordinary objects.
- Always keep a recorder accessible. You never know when an opportunity will arise.
- Record more than you think you need. Even if something feels uninteresting in the moment, listening back in a different mood often reveals sonic gems you did not expect.
- Cleaning audio in post can help, but it is time-consuming. It is always better, and far more natural, to record in a quiet, acoustically controlled space.
- Stereo for specific sounds is optional. Focus is the foundation of a good recording, and stereo can introduce more noise and reduce focus. If done well, however, stereo adds an extra layer of life. These days, I often use a stereo pair combined with a mono focus microphone, and, when possible, an ultrasonic microphone and a contact microphone (which leads to the next point).
- Always have a contact microphone available. For mechanisms, it is especially useful. Sound in the air often becomes diffused and diluted, while a contact microphone captures the core vibration directly from the source, yielding more precise audio with minimal noise. In noisy environments, this is invaluable. Using two contact microphones is even better for stereophonic imaging.
- Requesting access and recording permissions is an art in itself. I still struggle with it, and it can take time. In my experience, everyone responds differently, and very few people truly understand field recording. It requires patience, pedagogy, psychology, and negotiation. Leading with kindness, and even being a bit overly friendly, has worked best for me so far.
Final Thoughts
I recorded more than 300 objects and mechanisms for this project: typewriters, rotary phone, levers, springs, watches, antique loom, bicycles, pulley, cameras, 8mm, projectors, flip clock, wind mill, timer, boat throttle, trimmer, many more….
The total number of individual sounds reaches around 4,000, though I kept them as sequential recordings instead of splitting them into countless single-shot files. I prefer preserving the authenticity and natural flow of the performances. It also helps avoid overwhelming users with hundreds of tiny files. With assets becoming more abundant each year, I believe fewer, better-organized files are a real advantage.
If you want to explore the project further or see the complete file list, you can visit the dedicated page on Articulated Sounds.
And of course, this is far from the end. I still have countless ideas for new mechanical sounds, and I remain attentive to any unusual object that might appear on my radar.
little bonus: here the story reel of my 1-week stay in this quirky antique museum hotel