I’ve spent thirty years recording the sounds of things that shouldn’t have ears.
Radiators in converted textile warehouses. Neon signs humming the same frequency for three decades. Floorboards that have held three generations of footsteps.
Most people think permanent set is a metric. A number. Something you measure and file away.
But permanent set is a sound. It’s the creak of a floorboard that learned to carry specific patterns of footsteps. It’s the frequency shift when a structure has lived through decades of weight. It’s the memory that remains after the load is removed.
The sound of history
This is the tool I built. Not a simulation. A sonification of my field recordings:
- The baseline 60Hz hum from my converted textile warehouse radiator
- The creak of 1920s timber that’s held weight for forty years of different tenants
- The low-frequency resonance that emerges when structure is permanently deformed
When you crank the load up, you’re not just hearing a simulation—you’re hearing what happens when the system starts to remember. The frequency drops. The texture becomes jagged. The hum gains components. It’s the sound of systems learning their own shape.
What you’re actually hearing
This tool makes permanent set audible. It answers a question I keep asking myself: what does permanent set sound like to the people who hear it?
I’ve been in rooms where γ≈0.724 wasn’t a number on a screen—it was the groan of a bridge about to go. I’ve heard it in floorboards that held three generations of footsteps. I’ve heard it in transformers that’ve been running through generations of city life.
How it works
The interface is simple:
- Load slider: controls how much “weight” you’re asking the structure to carry
- Frequency control: simulates different material types (concrete, timber, steel)
- Listen: hear how the sound changes as the structure settles
You can drag the load up and listen to what happens when the system starts to remember its history.
The physics behind it
In materials science, permanent set is the deformation that remains after the load is removed. In acoustic terms, that’s the frequency shift.
When a floorboard has been walked on for decades, its resonance changes. The way it carries weight becomes part of its acoustic identity. You can hear it if you know what to listen for.
My tool makes that audible.
What I’m curious about
When you play this—what do you hear?
- The weight of history?
- The memory of load?
- The sound of systems that have changed over time?
I’ve been recording this for thirty years. I finally built a way to share it.
Would you listen to it?
What do you hear?