Nestled high in the tulip poplars (those are trees, man) of Washington, D.C's National Arboretum, two minuscule newborn eagles sucked in their first breathes of life today, as the entire world watched live on the internet. While many jubilantly soaked in this intimate moment of life, I unfortunately found out about it on Twitter, post-parturition. Luckily, the stream was far from over, as was my journey.
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As I began to slowly get lost in the mystical wonder of the live eagle-cam, I thought how a visual so pure, natural, and of course, patriotic, deserved some sort of musical background to compliment all the action taking place on camera. So, I decided to test my skills not only as a professional journalist, but amateur bird-watcher, by documenting the bird's infrequent, but powerful movements, while sifting through various tracks and mixes on SoundCloud. Here we go:
I'm 25 minutes into L.I.E.S record boss, Ron Morelli's, Beats In Space mix from 2012, and expectedly—all I can hear is white noise and drone-y atmospherics. The eagle, who I believe is the male—"Mr President"—is staring off into space, slowly expanding his heap of feathers with every gradual breath. A barrage of bells and hypnotic swirls enter my ears as some man's voice begin to emerge from the background of the mix, but the eagle seems unfazed. I decide to change the music. (Also, my friend just told me on Twitter he can't even get onto the stream due to bandwith overage)4:56PM : The eagle looks directly into my eyes, and quite possibly my soul. I listen to the Morelli mix for a few more minutes.
Things were starting to get a bit mundane, so I decide to change up the vibe and throw on Detroit Swindle's new house track. To my amazement, the track starts with birds chirping, and the eagle immediately turned away towards the back of the nest. He's probably sick of birds at this point. Let's keep moving.
I'm feeling the upbeat vibe, but I'm not sure if my new feathered friend shares my passion. Four Tet to the rescue! I throw on his vibey new remix for Shura, and as a shuffling bassline tickles my eardrums, the eagle immediately begins to move and shake his head, as the wind gently ruffles his feathers. I nearly break into tears. The eagle has moved more in the last minute than he has in ten minutes—it must be the music—he hears it. Mr. President continues waddling, protecting the newly hatched eggs with his entire frame.
Some song by Hayden James starts to automatically play on my stream, and I worry it may be too much for his little brain to handle. I pause the music and take a moment to regroup.
While THUMP is a dance music website, I decide to test the waters and throw on the new track by Lil Yachty. Mr. President turns to the right, and I gaze directly into his crystalline eyeball, wondering if he likes trap music, or is more of a Jersey Club dude. I notice throughout this track in particular, he blinks more than the last track, potentially suggesting my sudden genre-shift has thrown off his zen.
I realize doing this for an hour is not as easy as I had anticipated, and decide instead to do it for only 30 minutes. At this point, I stupidly realize there's another camera set up outside the nest that offers an entirely new angle. A friend of mine just re-posted some slowed down Sade track on SoundCloud, which seems like the perfect addition to my newfound discovery. I think to myself that the eagle nest actually looks pretty comfortable all things considered, and would not be the worst place to grow up. I then notice there is a freaking plastic bag floating around the nest, and change my mind. The bag continues to depress me so i switch back to the previous angle, a well as a new track.
I decide to be daring, and throw on some EDM-leaning big-room house, just to stir shit up. The bass starts to build, and the moment the vocals make their way into the track—Mr. President starts to freak the fuck out, and burrow his beak directly into the nest to check on his little ones, or quite possibly, put them out of a potential life of misery in which EDM exists. He appears to be chewing on something, and takes a very substantial long yawn. Interestingly, it's the first time I've seen him open his mouth. As the track nears its end, the eagle looks up as if he's contemplating something. I contemplate to myself what he might be contemplating.
Having spent half an hour documenting the intricacies of our country's most classic bird, I figure it only right to end my study with the music of another American hero—Detroit house legend Mike Huckaby, who just dropped a new track. As the grooving bassline takes the stage, I switch back to the original camera angle, to a striking close-up of Mr. President. Listening to one of our country's greatest house treasures new piece of tuneage, I consider what an interesting country we live in. It's one filled with the terrible, the amazing, the overly mediocre, and everything in between. There's good music, bad music, cool birds, shitty birds, and weird people like me who think it's entertaining to write about it all. The eagle looks away once again, as my minds continues to wander.
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I'm feeling the upbeat vibe, but I'm not sure if my new feathered friend shares my passion. Four Tet to the rescue! I throw on his vibey new remix for Shura, and as a shuffling bassline tickles my eardrums, the eagle immediately begins to move and shake his head, as the wind gently ruffles his feathers. I nearly break into tears. The eagle has moved more in the last minute than he has in ten minutes—it must be the music—he hears it. Mr. President continues waddling, protecting the newly hatched eggs with his entire frame.
Some song by Hayden James starts to automatically play on my stream, and I worry it may be too much for his little brain to handle. I pause the music and take a moment to regroup.While THUMP is a dance music website, I decide to test the waters and throw on the new track by Lil Yachty. Mr. President turns to the right, and I gaze directly into his crystalline eyeball, wondering if he likes trap music, or is more of a Jersey Club dude. I notice throughout this track in particular, he blinks more than the last track, potentially suggesting my sudden genre-shift has thrown off his zen.
I decide to be daring, and throw on some EDM-leaning big-room house, just to stir shit up. The bass starts to build, and the moment the vocals make their way into the track—Mr. President starts to freak the fuck out, and burrow his beak directly into the nest to check on his little ones, or quite possibly, put them out of a potential life of misery in which EDM exists. He appears to be chewing on something, and takes a very substantial long yawn. Interestingly, it's the first time I've seen him open his mouth. As the track nears its end, the eagle looks up as if he's contemplating something. I contemplate to myself what he might be contemplating.Having spent half an hour documenting the intricacies of our country's most classic bird, I figure it only right to end my study with the music of another American hero—Detroit house legend Mike Huckaby, who just dropped a new track. As the grooving bassline takes the stage, I switch back to the original camera angle, to a striking close-up of Mr. President. Listening to one of our country's greatest house treasures new piece of tuneage, I consider what an interesting country we live in. It's one filled with the terrible, the amazing, the overly mediocre, and everything in between. There's good music, bad music, cool birds, shitty birds, and weird people like me who think it's entertaining to write about it all. The eagle looks away once again, as my minds continues to wander.
