Hear my storyListen Now
hello friend, so much has happened and you have grown just as much as i have.
this means the story you listen and read below is incredibly out of date.
i’ll be back to update soon but in the meantime here’s what you need to know:
previously Creative Director of Sound at the Guardian, i’m (still):
– an audio artist
– a poet
– now officially freelance ready to queer anything i touch to unimaginable magic.
bye for now
[A crisp, warm crackle is emitted from a phonograph stylus. Accompanied by the gentle drone of soft, stuttering bell strikes]
I’m still learning my story but here’s what I know so far:
My name is Axel Kacoutié [Pron: Ka-Koo-Tee-Ye] and I’m an audio artist and poet. Meaning I can write music,
[Swift, urgent melancholy piano keys wobble and twinkle]
Sound design worlds,
[Celestial bodies groan and collide whilst consuming satellites]
and use words to make sense of them.
[A computer-like voice asks, “what does this mean?”]
I’ve won a number of awards meaning I’ve been fortunate enough to connect with people in such a way that the work can’t be ignored.
[A rising, gentle applause that sounds like rain]
[The opening sounds of the kora as heard in How to Remember begins]
[A chorus of owls and birds of paradise chant over a floating drone of light as heard in Paradise]
Best Sound Designer at the Audio Production Awards.
To name a few..
[The rise and fall serenading strings responding to the beeps of a robot: A reimagined scene as heard in the winning Today in Focus entry]
[Vinyl crackle resumes]
None of this would’ve been possible if it wasn’t for my passions and educators, official and unofficial, whose kindness and generosity made me feel there was always a way.
It’s made manifest in my role as sound designer and composer for the Guardian’s flagship podcast, Today in Focus.
It’s looked like being a studio manager first at LBC then the BBC.
[The stretching anchor of a tree buries deeper into the ground discovering a nano bug arcade]
My roots are in studying Music production for media at Ravensbourne University and are also in the voices, lens and words of singer/songwriters, filmmakers and poets with whom I’ve collaborated throughout my career.
[Yrsa: You’re a beautiful danger. [GLITCH] You’re a beautiful danger]
[the gentle drone of soft, stuttering bell strikes returns]
I’ve learned to tell stories with faders
Mould narratives out of microphones
And capture emotions in such a way that some would say,
it feels like magic.
[A thoughtful melody of solitude chimes through a music box]
And where would we be without magic?
[A softly conjured giggle]
This sound-craft that allows us to look at the things we’re taught not to.
Feel the confusing things that are perceived illegible or impossible
Or simply, to enjoy something about being human.
That’s what I’m interested in anyway.
It’s got to stir the heart otherwise how do we know we’re alive?
[A crisp, warm crackle is emitted from a phonograph stylus. Accompanied by the gentle drone of soft, stuttering bell strikes returns]
Thank you for visiting my site and checking my work.
I hope you continue to find the time to listen.
There’s still so much to say.
[Fades to sonic black]