… i listen to the wind that obliterates my traces

A haunting collage of forgotten voices, vernacular photographs, and ghostly soundscapes that drift across a century of memory and sound.

...i listen to the wind that obliterates my traces gathers together early photographs, 78 rpm recordings, and literary fragments into a haunting meditation on memory, sound, and image. Curated from internationally renowned artist Steve Roden’s personal collection, this work is not organized as a linear narrative but as a constellation of connections—vernacular portraits of anonymous musicians, amateur home recordings, professional studio sessions, and atmospheric sound effects collide with writings by Hamsun, Wordsworth, Nabokov, and others.

The photographs—150 in total—range from formal portraits to ethereal double exposures, and include a broad spectrum of processes: tintypes, ambrotypes, cabinet cards, albumen prints, postcards, and snapshots. The recordings span cowboy ballads, sacred music, blues, Hawaiian ensembles, environmental sounds, and experimental amateur discs. Taken together, the book and its recordings form an evocative, dreamlike archive of listening across the first half of the 20th century.

What’s Included

• 51 audio tracks of remastered historic audio recordings
• Collection includes sacred songs, blues, cowboy ballads, Hawaiian music, home recordings, and sound effects (1920s–1950s)
• View the complete tracklist here: [Insert hosted PDF link]
• 184-page illustrated book (PDF) featuring:
• 150 early photographs related to music, sound, and listening
• Essay and curation by Steve Roden
• Literary excerpts woven throughout the pages

Praise & Reviews

“Highly regarded by his peers and generally beloved of critics, especially in Los Angeles, Steve Roden is what you would call an artist's artist. It is a particular distinction, implying not merely talent but a certain quality of integrity as well.”

— Los Angeles Times

“Roden’s work is a sentimental project carved from a material process, and a reminder that one is only spitting distance from the other.”

— Art Forum