Stringer says Cell Here is just the first of what will become a multi-brand retailer. In the meantime he is convinced that Cell offers a unique benefit because it provides a voice that others have never considered. In order not to continue our music and replace the lyrics, say, we must go beyond monophonic and stereophonic enter-wait-triphonic. Yes, it’s Syng’s word produced. “This has to happen,” says Stringer, a three-year-old freshman, “because we want to set the standards in place. We think we have the only expertise that can meet those costs.”
Stringer speaks of a future of mixed reality where words — not just music, but whatever we hear — will have to match or surpass the surrounding sources of words in the world. The multicellular switch of its speakers can deliver music, or even theater, in a way that reflects real-time events. Basically, they’re making a holographic song that you just know is coming. (I wish we had already had holographics and Cells before closing.)
Stringer also showed me tricks that are not part of the first release, but show Syng’s potential. One show featured the song “Eleanor Rigby” which was specially written where the Stringer band was able to exclude any singer. Using the Cell Phone app, he showed me how to pull and drop any device as if you were moving real tools to different parts of the room – violin on the bed, cello near the kitchen door. At another show, Syng staff acoustic engineers Elisabeth McMullin showed me how the system can incorporate words from writing (in this case, Radiohead’s song) and other songs, or words like rhythms, birds, or sirens. In this case, Syng actually offers the same as the software board in the recording studio, where you can download or upgrade any volume. But instead of making the path too steep or too quiet, you are moving it in the air.
Syng, based in Venice, California, now has about 50 employees, and donors have made $ 15 million so far. It is interesting to note that Stringer’s claim that his sellers include a lawyer representing Apple in a patent and a defense attorney. They cite interesting responses from musicians and producers (who will not reveal their names). “For three years now I’ve been giving a low-profile show because my heart wants the attraction of the producers,” he says. “These people need tools like these to reach a certain level of skill. We hear a lot about not having enough space in the stereo to do what they want. ”
Stringer himself has never had such an impact. At Apple they always sit back. It is said that he did, perhaps for refusing to participate in public worship. But now, as a 56-year-old CEO (even one who looks like he has just come out to meet Laurel Canyon-songwriters) he feels healthy. “I just knew that I had to do more,” she says. “It has to be really outside. To answer the question you want to back up, you need to be involved in the whole process. You can’t just be part of the journey. This has to be this, you just make something else. It’s a time when you feel free to be unhappy. ”
I can hear him.
Christopher Stringer was part of Apple’s production team in 2001 when the company released its song, iPod. In July 2004, I wrote a Newsweek cover story Write down how the product changed on its own: