Soundwalk

Chad Crouch
  • 5.0 (9)
  • Music
  • Updated Biweekly

Soundwalk combines roving field recordings with an original musical score. Each episode introduces you to a sound-rich environment, and embarks on an immersive listening journey. chadcrouch.substack.com

  1. Aug 14

    Holland Park Soundwalk

    Today we are visiting Holland Park in west central London. But before we do, let’s zoom out. If you look at a map of central London you’ll see, within the spiderweb of roadways fanning out from the Thames, hundreds of small green rectilinear plots. Where I live, on the west coast of the United States, this symbology tends to translate as parks or open spaces, accessible to the public. Not so in London. The majority of these smaller bits of green are private parks; fenced, gated and surrounded by tall hedges. You need a key to get in. Thankfully the much larger green spaces, including the Royal Parks, are open to the public. The Royal Parks trace back to Henry VIII seizing land for royal deer hunting. In Hyde Park, Kensington Gardens, Regent's Park, and five others you’ll find a mix of woodlands and meadows, where Londoners now gather to commune with the naturalistic landscape in genuinely massive numbers. Holland Park is something of an outlier in this mix. The 54 acre site dates back to the 1600’s as the private gardens of Cope Castle, a mansion originally built on a 500 acre estate for Sir Walter Cope. The Youngest of Cope's daughters married Henry Rich, who became the 1st Earl of Holland in 1624, giving the house, and eventually the park, its name. Much of Holland House was destroyed in Blitz bombing raids. An Act of Parliament in 1953 finalized the sale of the estate to the government, with part of the grounds opened to the public that year. Holland Park feels smaller and more intimate than its acreage suggests. It’s quiet. Its few discrete entrances contribute to this feeling of privacy and intimacy. It’s also compartmentalized. It’s rigidly formal in the Dutch Garden; While woodlands sprawl on the north side; And a unique blend of the two near can be found near the center, in the Kyoto Garden: And so, it does not sound like the Royal Parks. There are far less visitors, more wildlife density, and less traffic noise from boulevards on the margins. To put it plainly, it’s my kind of city park. For my soundwalk score, I sought to capture the relaxed and hushed feel of the park in musical movements using electric piano, synthesizers, tuned percussion, electric bass, and woodwinds. Thanks for reading along and listening. Holland Park Soundwalk is available on all music streaming services August 21st, 2026. Author’s Note: I mixed up my dates, so this post arrived one week early. My new release for this week is Amsterdam Dusk, available under the artist name Listening Spot, on all streaming platforms today, Friday, August 14th. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit chadcrouch.substack.com/subscribe

    Holland Park Soundwalk

  2. Jul 31

    Vondelpark Soundwalk

    This is a free preview of a paid episode. To hear more, visit chadcrouch.substack.com Before I begin, just a quick plug for my son, Sam, who I’ve mentioned briefly on here. Today marks the release of his first single, ever; “Tides”. Sam has developed really quickly in the last year. He started composing his own songs six months ago, and started making recordings just three months ago. He has a handful that are finished, but is in no particular hurry to release a debut album. “Tides” showcases his ear for melody, as well as the ease and expression he brings to the piano bench. Daily he fills our house with beautiful music, and now yours can be too! He asked me to make a cover, and I obliged with a construction paper collage that embraced the sun-bleached edges: Favorite, add, share, and smash that follow button wherever you stream music! Now, on to today’s soundwalk: Amsterdam has several lovely parks. Vondelpark is not the biggest, nor the most serene, but it is the oldest and perhaps the most beloved. It’s just so comfortable. It vibrates with life. It’s distinctly beautiful. The park almost feels like a series of outdoor living rooms. Every one is apportioned an open space, often a meadow, that gracefully embraces its visitors and beckons them to stay. Visitors can also find a quiet corner, among stately houses; a cafe overlooking a pond; a contemplative honeycomb garden; a sunny wading pool; a bench in the shade. On a summer night it seems like the park can accommodate thousands, affording the visitors a rich experience of togetherness without feeling crowded or overly noisy. This soundwalk was recorded on August 13th, nearly a year ago as I write this, in the pleasant afterglow of a warm summer day. Park visitors were spread out on blankets enjoying each other’s company, amongst the boisterous calls of Rose-ringed Parakeets. Cyclists clicked past with a little less urgency than during the day. The register of ease and joy can be heard within indiscernible snippets of passing conversations. To say I was charmed by Vondelpark is an understatement. I was bowled over. I wanted to do right by it with the music I composed for the soundwalk. I tried to incorporate intimate, convivial moments amongst broad sweeps; moments of steady tempo, and free time, moments that whispered and moments that welled up. Thanks for reading along and listening. Vondelpark Soundwalk is available on all music streaming services today, July 31st, 2026

    Vondelpark Soundwalk

  3. Jul 24

    Newcastle, UK Soundwalk

    A short post today, for a short piece. First off, one thing to be clear about is this is not Newcastle upon Tyne, UK Soundwalk. This is Newcastle, Northern Ireland, UK, at the foot of the enchanting Mourne Mountains. It’s quite a charming little seaside town. Not too posh, not too shabby. Maybe this even comes through in the environmental recording? Newcastle just feels so tucked-in. You can hop on the trail that starts just above sea level on the south end of town and hike all the way up to Slieve Donard, Northern Ireland’s tallest peak. Pretty remarkable really, and a stunning landscape. I did make a recording of said hike, but have not set about composing music for it yet. This short vignette of a piece came with the same sense of discovery and happenstance that accompanied landing in the little town by chance for a night last summer. Thanks for tuning in. Newcastle UK Soundwalk is available on all music streaming services today, July 24th, 2026 PS. Last week I released another miniature album. Otter Point marries the sounds of the southern Oregon Cast with a composition for electric piano, synth, and dulcimer that plays well with this one, I think. Otter Point is available under the artist name Listening Spot on all music streaming services as of July 17th, 2026. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit chadcrouch.substack.com/subscribe

  4. Jul 10

    Maple Pass Soundwalk

    This is a free preview of a paid episode. To hear more, visit chadcrouch.substack.com Maple Pass is a mountain pass loop trail in North Cascades National Park. It’s 6.8 miles, rated hard, and scores a 4.9/5 on alltrails.com. It’s about as good as it gets, really. I went there with my son a year ago now, to the day. It was great. Clear skies, warm sun, wildflowers in bloom, birds singing. A few weeks ago I mentioned a nearby hike, Cascade Pass, that didn’t go down quite like we hoped. This one happily exceeded all expectations. The trail rises from Rainy Pass, a subordinate saddle to the Cascade range divide about 5 miles to the east, at Washington Pass. Here the Pacific Crest Trail crosses Hwy 20 on its final 60 mile push toward the Canadian border. Emerging from the subalpine conifers, the trail traverses alongside Lake Ann, an emerald pool in a cirque with a picturesque tiny island. I am a slower climber than my son but I tried to keep apace, fighting the urge to stop and just listen for a spell. Warbling Vireo, Hermit Thrush, Western Wood Pewee, Dark-eyed Junco, Canada Jay and the peculiarly raspy (to my ear) Mountain Chickadee are heard along the trail. And, of course, the scrunch, scrunch of footsteps on the coarse trail. Climbing to Maple Pass, the trail affords vistas of the stunning North Cascades. Red Indian paintbrush, lupines, and bistort are scattered among the granite boulder shards on the ridge. It’s the type of scene that brings to mind the lyric, “the hills are alive with the sound of music”. My score picks up on this ebullient vibe by reaching for a painterly sound palette: big, reverb-drenched synth pads and undulating swarms of synthesized bell tones evoke the panoramic views adorned with colorful life on the margins. This is not intimate piano suite fare. It’s a popular hike on a summer day, and we certainly were not alone. The environmental audio has been spliced to focus on the biophony, as has been the case for most of my soundwalks. When we made it back to the trailhead I was astonished at how quick we made the transit. We shaved one or two hours off the estimated hike time, and yet time seemed to slip so slowly while we were out there. Thanks for reading and listening along. If you find yourself in the North Cascades and have the time and ability, don’t pass this hike up! Maple Pass Soundwalk is available on all music streaming services today, July 10th, 2026.

  5. Jun 26

    Wildwood Trail Soundwalk

    It’s funny how arrivals can turn into quiet affairs. Like, say, you’re walking along a trail with a friend and you get to a view or a waterfall or something and then slip into quiet. That’s how I’m feeling with this arrival. It is the arrival of my first LP, and the sound recording it contains, which both captures and takes inspiration from The Wildwood Trail in Portland, Oregon’s Forest Park. To recap, it’s a 30 mile linear trail through a 5000+ acre forest in the city. I’ve written quite a lot about it: its magnetism, its quirks, its creation, its history, its wildlife, the volunteers that keep the trails clear, and the art that it inspires. You can read up on it while listening to the forest ambience in every quarter, in my ten part series: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, and this one makes 10. It’s virtual forest bathing! And now, well, here we are. The end of the trail, the launch of the album, and also a new beginning. It’s kind of strange to have an artifact after creating so many soundwalks memorialized only in pixels and a digital ephemera. This is a tactile thing in comparison, and while not as simple to distribute, it’s reassuring on some level. It turned out pretty good, if I do say so myself. It’s really amazing how the material holds the sound. It's all contained in the microscopic ridges of the infinitesimal canyon that spirals along the surface of the vinyl disc. I was curious how long that tiny canyon is, if you stretched it out and measured it, so I turned to Claude to work it out. It obliged my story problem in two seconds and spit out: approximately 3000 meters or 1.86 miles. I don’t know why, but I found that fascinating; picturing the groove like a gossamer ribbon spooling out on the Wildwood Trail itself for nearly 2 miles, shimmering in the wind like a sound wave. I must pay my respect and gratitude to the kind people at MusicOregon’s Echo Fund, and The Portland Office of Arts and Culture. Without an Echo Fund Grant this would not have come to pass. Thank you, Thank you. And to all of you who are reading this and who have shared moments of my journey or listened to my music, thank you. I hope this finds you well. Wildwood Trail Soundwalk is available on all music streaming services today June 26th, 2026. Find the limited run LP on Bandcamp. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit chadcrouch.substack.com/subscribe

    Wildwood Trail Soundwalk

  6. Jun 5

    Cascade Pass Rain

    It was supposed to be the highlight of our trip. I spent a few days with my son hiking in the North Cascades last summer. The North Cascades is, according to one YouTuber who titled his video The Most Breathtaking Hike of my Life!, the “American Alps”. It’s also one of the least visited National Parks in the US lower 48. It ranks as the second-least, to be precise, after Isle Royale National Park in Michigan, a large island in Lake Superior which requires over 12 hours travel time from the closest major airport. All of this to say, it’s a mystery to me why so few people visit the North Cascades. We saved this hike for our last day, because we were staying on the east side of the range and the hike was on the west side. What we failed to comprehend was the east side forecast calling for clouds meant west side rain. The North Cascades operates like a giant squeegee, scraping the moisture from the cloud layer. And so it was, that the grand vistas of chromatic glacial valleys were replaced by a visibility of 100 feet or so; a blanket of silvery grey. The hike started at the end of a gravel spur road. The trail was essentially switchback after switchback for over 3 miles, gaining 1,700 feet in elevation as it climbed the SW flank of Sahale Mountain under a conifer canopy. Streams and seeps were alive with water coming down the slope. The canopy was a safe, warm refuge for the birds on that day. They called to each other as we climbed. I have to say, I was really enjoying the thick fog. The construction of the trail was superb; a nice even climb. The canopy filtered out the fine rain. I focused my attention on the near field wonders. The numerous little waterfalls were vivid landscapes in miniature. The wildflowers and mosses seemed to glow in the visibility deprivation tank. As we got closer to the exposed ridge traverse the fog thickened and heavy rain began to fall. It felt like we were in the clouds. “Every cloud has a silver lining,” according to the Milton poem that birthed the phrase. The metaphor of the bright cloud edge is taken here to mean every negative situation holds positive qualities, so long as you are able to notice them. We made the call to turn around before the pass, which was only a few hundred yards away. The experience didn’t match the expectations we set for it, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a disappointment for both of us. Still, it was memorable and special for its dreamlike quality. As the visible was minimized, the audible was maximized; ephemeral, resonant, and enveloping. Thanks for joining me here. Cascade Pass Rain is available on all music streaming services today June 5th, 2026. Also, the first two singles from my vinyl LP release Wildwood Trail Soundwalk are also out and available to stream. Find the limited run LP only on Bandcamp. (20% off pricing is extended through release day, June 26) Lastly, I posted Part 7 from my in-depth series on the Wildwood Trail a few days ago. So long for now! This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit chadcrouch.substack.com/subscribe

    Cascade Pass Rain

  7. May 8

    Paris Rain

    I alluded to a crop of urban soundwalk and soundscape recordings on the way a few weeks ago with Amsterdam Dawn. We’re still easing in with another Listening Spot treatment: a musical suite in conversation with a continuous environmental sound recording. This is Paris during an evening summer rain. It’s a vignette, recorded from a 5th floor room in the 3rd arrondissement. Just over 6 minutes long. The composition resembles the series of mini albums I offered up last year as Sleeping Animal. The Pianet electric piano meanders its way along, creating a scaffolding for various washes and textures. Something about the drips in the foreground and sizzle of puddles in the narrow street below are soothing. Paris Rain is available under the artist name Listening Spot on all streaming platforms Friday, May 8th, 2026. Thanks for reading and listening! This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit chadcrouch.substack.com/subscribe

    Paris Rain

  8. May 1

    Snow Lake Soundwalk

    We are back at Tahoma / Mount Rainier this week for another soundwalk. These hikes were made in June, 2024, on a weekend father and son getaway. The recordings were edited to focus on the natural soundscape (but you can make out four feet scuffling along the trail at certain points.) I’ve always felt a strong pull to Tahoma, having hiked around it on the Pacific Crest Trail in August, 1994. It snowed that August in the higher elevations; the biggest, wettest snowflakes I’ve ever seen and felt in my entire life. It snowed and rained for three days, and it was all I could do to keep my down sleeping bag dry. I was soaked. It’s one reason my experience of the mountain was so dreamlike. I sensed it, but I didn’t really see it. So it goes with mountains, and so it was that I was eager to see it and experience it with my son, thirty years later. We arrived late in the day. Skies were clear and the sun’s rays bathed the alpine meadow in golden light. The southeastern face of the mountain loomed over our shoulder as we climbed the trail to a picturesque bench. Birds were singing their hearts out. Western Warbling Vireo, Hermit Thrush, Fox Sparrow, Pine Siskin, Townsend’s Warbler, Yellow-rumped Warbler…. We had a snack there, and I set my recording hat 25 feet away to soak up the soundscape. Bench Lake sat below us; its placid crystal clear water reflecting the subalpine setting. Both Bench and Snow Lakes sit in a cirque—a giant amphitheater with the mountain at one end—that was formed over time by glacial erosion. This amphitheater effect, I think, can be discerned in the birdsong; almost like they chose the spot to amplify their crooning. Listening back, I’m struck at how the creek—Unicorn Creek—has the same urgent sound of Comet Falls; that wideband shhh of a young creek coursing through steep, boulder-strewn valleys. Such great names here. Approaching Snow Lake, the creek slowed as it moved through a shaded gully where snow still covered the trail. It was like something from a movie, painted in blue tones of snow reflecting the evening sky. We scrambled down to a boulder at the edge of Snow Lake and ate M&Ms. Snow Lake was quiet and so were we. Since then, my son has grown. Instead of two inches shorter, he is now at least two inches taller than me. In the time since, he’s also made significant progress on the piano, and is now composing songs that sound to me like they could have been written by the artists we both admire: Dustin O’Halloran, Joep Beving, Sergio Diaz De Rojas… It’s almost like life has been speeding up. The pace of change is dramatic. And yet I look at myself in the mirror, and I see the same person, with lines slightly more drawn. My changes are largely hidden from view, my advances scarcely measurable. People make pronouncements about how one decade of life will feel compared to another—as if we move through them all the same. “Make memories,” they say, as if it’s just that easy. Thanks for coming along. As always Snow Lake Soundwalk is available on all music streaming services today, May 1, 2026. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit chadcrouch.substack.com/subscribe

    Snow Lake Soundwalk
See All (126)

Ratings & Reviews

5
out of 5
9 Ratings

About

Soundwalk combines roving field recordings with an original musical score. Each episode introduces you to a sound-rich environment, and embarks on an immersive listening journey. chadcrouch.substack.com

Information

  • Creator
    Chad Crouch
  • Years Active
    2022 - 2026
  • Episodes
    126
  • Rating
    Clean
  • Copyright
    © Chad Crouch
  • Show Website
    Soundwalk

You Might Also Like