“Tourniquet” performance video, videography
Part of the Benevolent Sin Collection.
“Tourniquet” is an experimental spoken-word track from my third studio album, Rhythm & Color. The song features provocative, dystopian poetry over a horrific soundscape improvised by my two collaborators, Alex Farkasch (Wrong Note) and Eric Brindle. It’s a deeply disturbing listening experience, bringing the audience face to face with the horrors of American neo-fascism in an unapologetically personal way. The song’s music video was released shortly before the full album as a teaser for the project, highlighting the bold, experimental ideas I’d be putting forth in this new era.
Production:
The “Tourniquet” sessions were atmospheric, free-flowing creative exercises from beginning to end. Unlike my other collaborations on Rhythm & Color, this song had no demo and no sheet music. I simply invited my artists into the studio with nothing but a sheet of lyrics and basic notes, and entrusted them to work with me on bringing my creative vision to life.
The first of the three sessions was my vocal performance. That night was a solo production from beginning to end. I set up lights, cameras, and a lone microphone, hit record, and immersed myself in the art alone in a dimly lit room. Looking back, I could have saved precious time if I had asked for help with setup and engineering, but the isolation gave me zero distractions in finding the perfect take. My performance was pained and incredibly intimate. I needed to capture lightning in a bottle to properly sell this emotionally devastating experience. After a few hours, I was satisfied with my work, and I compiled a rough mix of my favorite takes to share with my collaborators.
My second session featured Alex Farkasch on piano. This was the most crucial puzzle piece in the composition, and I was extremely anxious, not yet knowing if my idea would work as I envisioned it. I worked closely with Alex, elaborating on my vision as I prepared the studio space for him. I placed several microphones in and around the piano to capture a dark and immersive surround sound, and once my setup was complete, I bathed Millitrax Studio A in a deep red glow and hit record for the first time. It only took one take to know that this absurd dream of mine was going to come true. Alex is a visionary composer, pianist, and songwriter, and he understood the identity of this piece perfectly. We ran takes for several hours, collaborating on different ideas and directions until we were both satisfied with our work. This is exactly what I wanted Rhythm & Color to be: a continuously flowing creative environment that could unite artists from countless different backgrounds. After wrapping up the piano session, Alex and I spent a bit more time experimenting with sound design on an analog synthesizer, which can be found in various tense moments throughout the final mix.
Full percussion setup for “Tourniquet” recording session.
The final session for “Tourniquet” was an improvised percussion performance by Eric Brindle. This was by far the most challenging session for me, and I certainly made it challenging for my collaborator. Before Eric’s arrival at the studio, I spent several hours transporting and assembling a gargantuan twenty-one-piece drum set, featuring a snare, a kick, two toms, three cymbals, four metal pipes, two Thai gongs, two glass jars, three wood blocks, two sets of wind chimes, and a hanging chain. The setup was brutal and imposing, almost completely surrounding the performer, but I trusted Eric to make the most of this daunting performance. I placed an assortment of microphones flanking the drum kit on all sides to capture a 360° auditory image of the performance. The space was arranged to look identical to my setup from the previous session, and cleverly framed camera angles sold the illusion that everyone was performing in the same room at the same time. Eric Brindle is a talented percussionist and contemporary composer, and he was the perfect fit for this project. His performance added depth to the soundscape and made the musical experience much more impactful.
The final composition of “Tourniquet” is a blend of my favorite takes of each section. I had to be strategic with every transition between takes, as anything less than a seamless experience would be unacceptable. I was truly spoiled with the number of excellent ideas my collaborators recorded with me, and the resulting composite performance felt authentic and immersive throughout. I mixed this track in a fairly minimalistic manner, choosing to let the dynamic performances speak for themselves. My recording strategy catered to this plan, capturing the whole acoustic image from different locations, rather than narrowing in on individual sound sources. I took advantage of my well-placed microphones to make the instruments sound spacious and all-encompassing. I mixed in sound effects and synthesizer passages to further the sense of dread that the narrative evokes. It didn’t take much to bring this audio horror movie to its final form, and the mastered track is a one-of-a-kind listening experience.
Lyrics:
(Content Warning: political violence, genocide, human rights abuses)
“Tourniquet” is a spoken word poem portraying the unchecked atrocities of the world from various perspectives. My lyrics are dark and jaded, embodying the gross violence inherent in humanity’s growing apathy. The first verse addresses a government agent who just fatally shot an unarmed civilian. It’s a gruesome sight, and all I can do is cynically congratulate them on getting away with it. Nobody mourns the poor.
I continue to my second verse, commenting on the growing surveillance state within my nation. I’ve grown a disturbing level of acceptance of my own genocide. It seems only a matter of time before I’m profiled, detained, and executed for being a transgender woman in America. “My date will never be issued, but I know it’s on the way.” How can one person fight off the course of history?
“The wolf will chew off its own leg to be free.
For some sinister reason, they keep me breathing.
Makeshift tourniquet to stop the bleeding.
Poor people don’t need anesthesia.
You don’t come back from treason.”
Throughout the track, I chant this nihilistic mantra. “Chorus” doesn’t feel like the right word to describe it. It feels like all of society’s dominoes tumbling over until my universe collapses. It’s humanity’s desire for freedom against the oppressor’s thirst for brutality. A dreadful message: sacrifice everything, and they will bring you back to take more.
My third verse speaks to the growing cancer that is geopolitical apathy. Every day, we clock in to watch new and horrific injustices on repeat until we feel numb. Human trafficking, genocide, torture: it’s all just the cost of doing business in this world. The people in charge promise me my life will be so much easier if I ignore it all. “Turn a blind eye. When it’s late at night, nobody really minds the silence.”
The fourth verse is mankind’s great affront against God. I don’t subscribe to any particular religion, and as a secular outsider, it’s fascinating to watch as those who espouse their bible the loudest simultaneously thirst for the blood of their neighbors. It’s incredibly easy for the prejudiced mind to justify killing. For many in power, it’s a first course of action. Any moral framework is malleable with enough influence.
“It’s human nature to perceive freedom as the enemy of a civilized people.”
My final verse is a panicked and violent culmination of the growing dread laid out before you. All the problems of the world seem to ball up into an incomprehensible singularity. Every pre-programmed disadvantage—every act of systemic violence—builds into a deafening crescendo. America is a failed experiment. Somewhere along the line, this land has been cursed, and now nothing good can ever happen here again. The root problem does not matter because we have evolved one universal solution for everything. A gunshot rings out. Then, silence.
“Tourniquet” is the pain and suffering of generations of minorities in America distilled and refined. All pleasantries and subversive euphemisms have been extracted, and the experience that remains is agony incarnate. This is not all that life in America has to offer, but in a world where the dark underbelly of our society is encouraged to be ignored, this cynical, devastating wake-up call feels more important than ever.
Music Video:
The music video is simple in concept, but the execution turned out to be quite challenging. I compiled the accompanying video clips from the takes I selected for each performance and color-graded all of the footage to look cohesive. Color-grading was simple for my shots of the piano and drum kit, but my vocal takes proved quite difficult. I shot my vocal performance in the studio’s drum booth after moving the drum set to the main performance space, and the lighting in that corner was drastically different from anywhere else. I had to take great care in finding the right balance that would make the entire audiovisual experience feel real. Other points of contention were the cuts between different takes. Anytime my mix used audio from a different take, I had to seamlessly integrate the footage from that take into the video. At times, this was as simple as cutting to an unaffected shot to make the transition, but at times, I had to seriously rearrange my timeline to make all the pieces fit.
Once I was happy with my edit, I designed a thumbnail in Photoshop. I blended shots from the three performances into a single eye-catching image, focusing on minimalism and readability. “Tourniquet” was uploaded to YouTube the day before Rhythm & Color’s release (I would have preferred to post it sooner, but the album timeline got extremely tight towards the end). Overall, the video is simple but engaging. It’s well edited, and the visuals of these avant-garde performances are absolutely captivating.
Performance Credits:
Vocals: Colby Wygal
Piano: Alex Farkasch
Percussion: Eric Brindle
Production Credits:
Producer: Colby Wygal
Head Recording Engineer: Colby Wygal
Mixing/Mastering Engineer: Colby Wygal
Videographer: Colby Wygal
