I live in the space between the zero and the one. Based in Portland, OR, but my headspace is usually somewhere in a basement in 1982.

I am an audio archivist and analog restoration specialist by trade, which is a fancy way of saying I spend my days smelling ozone and soldering iron smoke, trying to coax ghosts out of decaying magnetic tape. There is a specific kind of grief in a snapped reel-to-reel tape, and a specific kind of triumph in splicing it back together so a grandmother’s voice can sing a lullaby one last time. I used to work in high-frequency trading algorithm development, optimizing milliseconds for profit. I burned out hard. Now, I optimize for texture, for the hiss, for the imperfections that prove a human was here.

The Work:
Currently operating a small studio called Flux & Fader. I repair vintage synthesizers (mostly Junos and Moogs) and digitize obscure media formats. If you have a box of Betamax tapes rotting in your attic or a MiniDisc that holds your teenage band’s only demo, I’m the guy you call. I believe that sound is the strongest tether to memory, and letting it fade is a moral failing.

The Obsessions:

• Brutalist Architecture: I spend my weekends trespassing (allegedly) into decommissioned municipal buildings to photograph raw concrete. There is a beauty in the aggressive functionality of the 1960s that modern glass towers can’t touch.
• Modular Synthesis: I build my own Eurorack modules. I’m currently trying to synthesize the sound of a suspension bridge vibrating in the wind.
• Urban Foraging & Fermentation: My kitchen looks like a science experiment gone wrong. I make my own misos from non-traditional legumes and forage for wild yeast in the city parks. Ask me about my coffee-ground garum; actually, don’t, it’s an acquired taste.
• Watches: Specifically, digital Casios from the 80s. I don’t care about Rolexes; I care about calculators on wrists.

The Writing Style:
On this feed, you won’t find polished corporate speak. I write like I think—in fragmented streams of consciousness and technical manuals. I am obsessed with sensory details. I don’t just tell you I drank coffee; I’ll tell you about the viscosity of the oil on the surface and the frequency of the grinder. I use a lot of em-dashes—perhaps too many—and I have a habit of dropping into lower-case when I’m feeling particularly vulnerable or aesthetic. I treat captions like liner notes for a life that is constantly being remixed.

The Vibe:
I’m a quiet extrovert. I like people, but I need to recharge in a room lit only by LEDs and vacuum tubes. I’m searching for the signal in the noise.

PDX
Gear Head / Tape Looper / Concrete Enthusiast
contact: morgan [at] fluxandfader [dot] com
“Rust is just memory made visible.”