In October 2023, a group of artists submitted tracks for a compilation intended as a time capsule, set to be unveiled exactly one year later. The idea was not only to preserve creative expressions from a specific moment in time but also to offer reflections on the past, present, and future. Each artist approached this concept in their own way. For some, it was an opportunity to connect their current work with earlier pieces from the 1980s, weaving a narrative that spanned decades. Others chose to include messages for the future—thoughts, hopes, or warnings intended to resonate with audiences in 2024.
The project served as an exploration of timelessness, showcasing deeply personal perspectives. Inspirations varied widely: some artists found hope in revisiting the past, while others grappled with their fears. For a few, the exercise became a form of catharsis or even nihilism, as they stripped their work of meaning to reflect their worldview. Through these contributions, listeners catch glimpses of the artists’ personalities and inner landscapes. Meanwhile, others used their music to express a yearning for dramatic societal changes—envisioning a safer, better world.
For my part, I embraced this opportunity through one of my music projects, Nimbostrata, which is primarily rooted in metal. One of the tracks I submitted includes a hidden code that links to a personal time capsule message—a feature I recovered via a special submission form. This concept of embedding cryptic messages in music and connecting them with QR codes in visuals has sparked a creative idea that I plan to expand on in future projects.
Reflecting on 2023, one of the goals I set for my "future self" was to become more outgoing. I’m happy to share that, thanks to my master’s program in statistics, this goal has started to materialize. The journey has been intense but rewarding, and I’ve seen noticeable growth both personally and academically.
The original call for this compilation posed an intriguing question: What would you say to your future self or your loved ones if you could send them a message in 2024? Would it comfort you to know that you’re still doing well and that your fears didn’t come true? Or would you use this moment as an opportunity to set meaningful goals, then reflect on how far you’ve come a year later? These questions encouraged introspection, and I hope that, for both myself and others, some of those aspirations have been realized, and many of the fears now seem unfounded or even trivial.
If you’re curious to explore this project, you can find the compilation albums released through the Attenuation Circuit label here:
Each chapter offers a unique listening experience, blending diverse artistic visions into a shared reflection on time, memory, and possibility.
LR Friberg
