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If you thought a minidisc was an odd format, you've not seen anything yet.

Learn a little more about how discarded X-Ray film became an integral part of Western music being smuggled and shared in the Soviet Union during the cold war by virtue of some pure ingenuity.

For more information, check out Bone Music too - https://www.x-rayaudio.com/
Transcript
00:00Think how easy it is to listen to music today. Millions of tracks at your fingertips on streaming services, the slightly retro satisfaction of burning your own CDs, or even the simple joy of dubbing a cassette tape for your friends.
00:14It's almost unimaginable that there was a time when simply hearing the music you loved could be a rebellious act. But rewind a few decades, and in the Soviet Union during the Cold War, that was precisely the case.
00:28And the ingenious, if not somewhat eerie solution? Pressing that forbidden music onto... discarded x-rays. Yes.
00:37Welcome to the fascinating underground world of what became known as Rowan Gonazdot. Hopefully I pronounced that right.
00:45Or to give it its English translation, Music on Ribs. So I mean, where did this all come from and why did it begin?
00:52Well, let's go back to the Soviet Union where Western music, the sounds of rock and roll, jazz, and anything that was deemed too Western was heavily controlled.
01:01The official channels offered next to nothing, fueling a powerful desire for these forbidden sounds, especially among young people yearning for something beyond the state approved tunes.
01:12A black market for music did exist, but it was limited, expensive, and risky. So faced with this cultural blockade, a truly unique and if not macabre form of DIY music distribution was born.
01:27Resourceful individuals started acquiring discarded x-ray film. Yes, the very same stuff that captures images of your bones, often from hospitals. This thin, flexible material became their unlikely canvas for sound. Think of it in modern days as the Flexi Disc. Google it if you need be.
01:47The process was far from sophisticated though. Existing vinyl records often smuggled into the country were played and a makeshift recording lathe would crudely cut the audio grooves onto the delicate x-ray film.
02:00So imagine trying to etch the energy of rock and roll onto the image of someone's lungs.
02:06The result was a, ahem, playable, loosely speaking record, with a surreal and often unsettling aesthetic. Your favourite track might be backed by someone's spine.
02:19But let's be clear, again, these were not high fidelity experiences.
02:24Their sound quality was rough, riddled with surface noise and prone to skipping.
02:29And they were fragile objects with very limited lifespan.
02:32And their size and shape, often irregular, dictated by the scraps of x-ray film available.
02:38Yet, despite their sonic limitations, these music on ribs records became a potent symbol of cultural resistance.
02:46They represented a yearning for freedom of expression and a defiant act against the restrictions imposed by the regime.
02:53A awful low quality recording, but still nonetheless a defiant act.
03:00These fragile discs became a vital, admittedly imperfect way to preserve and shed the music that they loved.
03:07So, next time you decide to flip open your app and effortlessly stream your favourite song, remember the incredible story of x-ray vinyl.
03:16A testament to the power of music and the ingenuity of those who dared to listen.
03:21Even if it meant pressing their desires onto the echoes of a medical scan and sounding, well, anything is better than nothing, right?

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