Digital Audio Devours Disneyland

Visiting Disneyland last week for the first time in about 16 years, I was struck by the sound of the place—both what was there and what was missing.

It seemed like the park designers were afraid of silence. Music and sound effects were everywhere. Spotting the hidden speakers became a game for my son and me. Bushes, fake rocks, trees, light poles, and even the seats on the rides blared happy tunes. During a boat ride down a miniature river, we heard frogs and crickets beaming from the riverbank. As we floated past the stiff, robotic wildlife—“Those ones? They’re gnu” quipped the guide—I imagined a future where nature had been scrubbed away and replaced by digitally enhanced facsimiles. It was kind of creepy, like the decoy fireplace in that old Star Trek episode that emitted no heat because the alien copied only superficial aspects of the Earth.

Into the belly of the beast....

The multiple speakers allowed some nifty acoustic mixing tricks, though. In one room, a movie played on a screen while the voice of projectionist Donald Duck wafted up through the projector hole in the wall, synchronized with hand shadows Donald was supposedly making on the screen. (Does he even have hands? I didn’t think about that until now, so I guess the effect was convincing.)

In the fantastic Main Street parade, the audio on the floats synced with the roadside speakers. How cool would it be to compose for multiple moving speakers that pass by stationary ones?

Newer rides have speakers in the seats, for a soundtrack that follows you.

Overall, and particularly on the rides, I found the sound was far too loud and bright to be realistic. Of course, I was there on a weekday in November. Maybe bigger crowds would absorb or compete with the sound during most of the year.

The other thing that struck me was how much the sound quality varied between the old and new attractions. The audio on older rides was ugly—very harsh and midrangy. But then, Disneyland has always juxtaposed old and new. Even on my first visit 26 years ago, I was impressed by how the environment was futuristic and anachronistic at the same time. It was like a ’50s view of the future that had never been updated as that future arrived.

And the sound that was missing? That turned out to be an unexpected bonus: The “It’s a Small World” exhibit was closed for remodeling, so its syrupy song (perhaps the most annoying of all time) was blissfully absent.

What juxtapositions inspire you musically?