Capturing the Unheard: Recording Andrew Melchior’s Tinnitus for an Experimental Album

When Andrew Melchior approached me with the unusual proposition of recording his tinnitus for an experimental album, I knew I was about to embark on a unique and challenging auditory adventure. Recording a sound that doesn’t physically exist—how could I say no?

As someone who doesn’t experience tinnitus, my first step was research. Tinnitus, derived from the Latin word *tinnītus* (meaning "jingling" or "ringing"), is the perception of sound without any external source. It’s both fascinating and frustrating, described by neuroscientists as a “phantom auditory perception.” According to Mack Hagood in *Hush* (2019), it’s not just a condition but a deeply personal, often disruptive experience that defies easy categorization. In the U.S. alone, around 40 million people experience it.

For Andrew, this was more than an abstract phenomenon; it was a daily companion, a persistent tone in the key of A8—roughly 7k Hz. To put it into perspective, that’s higher-pitched than a mosquito’s whine. And to recreate and record something so specific yet intangible? That’s where the fun began.

To replicate Andrew’s “permanent tinnitus,” I turned to one of my synthesizes, going through frequencies until we hit the right one. A simple sine wave at 7k Hz did the trick. Recording it was straightforward, as the amplitude of this tinnitus remains consistent. This was a sound that never leaves him — a spectral note woven into the fabric of his auditory world.

Things got more complicated when Andrew described a second, more elusive tone: a pulsatile tinnitus. Unlike the first tone, this one synced with his heartbeat, appearing only occasionally, often at night. Pulsatile tinnitus behaves like a human metronome — a whooshing sound or beat that matches the pulse. Recreating this involved a deeper dive into the interplay between biology and technology.

Quoting Penn Medicine, pulsatile tinnitus occurs when “the beat or sound is often in sync with the patient’s heartbeat. When their heart rate increases, the beat or sound will become faster; when it decreases, the beat or sound will slow.” A simple LFO (low-frequency oscillator) wasn’t enough to mimic this dynamic, heart-driven sound. It needed to reflect real-time heart rate changes.

 

From Heartbeats to Voltage

Here’s where things got delightfully nerdy. Using a Moog Matriarch synthesizer, Arduino, and a heart rate sensor, I built a system to translate Andrew’s pulse into control voltage (CV) to modulate the synthesizer’s oscillators. The goal was to create a sine wave that mirrored the rise and fall of his heartbeat—a living, breathing representation of his pulsatile tinnitus.

The setup worked like this:
- A heart rate monitor detected Andrew’s pulse.
- The Arduino converted the BPM (beats per minute) into CV.
- This CV controlled the Moog’s modulating oscillator, adjusting its rate in real time to match his pulse.

When Andrew placed a finger on the sensor, the oscillator’s modulation synced with his heart rate. Whether he slowed his pulse to 52 BPM through meditative breathing or spiked it to 147 BPM with a quick round of sit-ups, the system responded dynamically. The result? A sonic recreation of his pulsatile tinnitus.

Listening to the Unheard

After a few tweaks (and a bit of soldering), the heart rate-to-CV system functioned seamlessly. The modulation would stop after three seconds without pulse detection, keeping it tidy and practical for recording sessions. Hearing the final product—a combination of the steady 7k Hz tone and the heartbeat-synced modulation—was mesmerising and oddly...beautiful? 


Recording Andrew’s tinnitus reminded me that sound is as much about perception as vibration. What’s real to one person can be utterly invisible (or inaudible!) to another. But through a synthesizer, sensors, and a good dose of creativity, we managed to give voice to an invisible soundscape. I guess that’s the kind of work that keeps me excited about what’s possible in audio experimentation. 

Here’s to the unheard—and to finding ways to listen.

The album is available on Bandcamp.