One of my greatest fears since childhood has been getting stuck in an infinite loop. Countless sleepless nights have been spent ruminating over this fear, terrified that if I fall asleep, I will be transported to an unknown place with no way out and be forced to spend the rest of eternity there. Frequent dreams used to haunt me where I would be on a walk with a friend when, suddenly, I am teleported deep into the Earth or out into the vastness of space, somehow still alive and breathing. In this dreamscape, I could never discern if it was a dream or real life, not knowing if my fears had come true until the moment I finally woke up.
No song has ever evoked such fear in me quite like “Gyroscope.”
In 2002, the electronic music duo Boards of Canada released their most controversial yet enigmatic masterpiece to date, Geogaddi. As the fourth song on this dark and swirling album, “Gyroscope” perfectly conveys a haunting dreamscape that never seems to end. In a 2002 interview with HMV, Boards of Canada member Marcus Eoin revealed that the sounds of “Gyroscope” came to him in a dream. Marcus said that he recreated these sounds so quickly that the finished product was 99% similar to what he had dreamt.
A harrowing drum loop combined with persistently harsh pulsating sounds plays throughout the entire song, passing quickly through the right and left channels. When listening to this song with headphones on, it’s as if an invisible alien creature repeatedly circles your head; its violent heartbeat taunting and constricting the listener. With each loop passing by, it feels as if this heartbeat gets louder and louder as the entity nears closer and closer.
Contradicting the suffocating rhythm of “Gyroscope” is its hazy and atmospheric ambiance that gradually pitches up and down. This ambiance feels foggy and otherworldly, almost as if you are traversing through the depths of space while planets vocalize in a droning harmony. The only thing keeping you tethered as you float weightlessly through space is its hypnotic, throbbing rhythm, imprisoning you from all sides. These features of “Gyroscope” manage to feel both claustrophobic and liberating, blending these conflicting feelings into a perfectly horrifying experience.
For the first 48 seconds of this song, you’re completely alone in a clouded dreamscape. This isolation feels somewhat freeing, as if there’s nothing between you and the ends of the universe. This temporary comfort quickly changes to apprehension as you’re interrupted by a muffled and uncanny child-like voice. The voice appears both human and alien, almost robotic in its distortion. This monotonous voice repeats the same sequence of numbers throughout the rest of the song, never going away.
“1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 /
0 9 9 0 9 9 0 9 9.”
From what was once just a strange dream, “Gyroscope” suddenly throws you into a nightmare. You can hear the voice moving in circles around your skull, clashing with the intense pulsating sounds that felt like a pounding headache. “Who is this person? Why are they here?” You ask them again and again. They respond with the same eerie resonance as before, repeating the same sequence of numbers, which you cannot discern the meaning of. Not only do you feel trapped in an infinite and claustrophobic loop, you are also trapped in it with some unknown entity that you cannot see but can only hear.
