I need your voice. And your language.

Here is the thing: I am working on this composition? It is an ensemble piece, with a tuba and a double bass at the center, surrounded by a xylophone, glockenspiel, harp, cello and perhaps something else. It is based on this post.

I would also like to incorporate voices, as follows: I would like to play, as part of the piece, a loop consisting of a number of voices reading a text I have written. The voices may be distorted or otherwise altered. I would like to have readers of a variety of ages and genders. Although the text is in English, I would also like to have it read in other languages, so if you are in the mood to do this, and could translate it and read it in a language other than English, that would be excellent. Since this weblog has a very international readership, I thought I would ask here first.

Here are a few details:

• I cannot pay anything, at least not at this point. This is an amateur production. I also have no plans to use this commercially.

• Recording quality is not a high priority. Background noise is even okay, especially if it’s bar noise. Computer microphone, cell phone, etc is okay.
• MP3 would be easiest for me.
• As mentioned, the more languages, and dialects of English, and types of speakers, the better.
• I will need you to give me permission to use your voice in the loop for this composition. I suppose permission in the email sending me the MP3 file would be sufficient.
• The sooner the better.

Besides several varieties of English, I think regulars here also include speakers of Turkish, Danish, French, German, Czech, and Dutch, and I think without looking too far we could find other languages as well. If you are interested in participating, please let me know. A good email to use would be metamorphosist at gmail.com

The text in question is included in the extended entry part of this post. Thank you in advance.

Nine miles down, where the devil sleeps
a lobster keeps a bar
in the belly of a pirate ship. No
sunlight reaches down that far but bioluminescent
shrimp and krill and fish with foot-long
teeth twinkle in the deep like stars.
Things with legs and things that squirt
sit at the bar and drink their gin
as plankton click
and mermaids sing or sell cigars.
Then two whales walk in, heads all
turn and eyes all squint.
“Make mine gin,” the first whale says.
“Me too,” says the second one.
“I had the weirdest dream last night,”
the first whale says,
“I lived inside a salvaged jet
in the desert with a pale blonde my age,
curtains fluttered in the breeze, we slept
on white sheets.
It was a good dream, I’ve always wanted to live
inside a jet.”
“I dreamt of fire,” says the second whale,
“or of the end of time, I forget.”
The ship bell rings
down in the dark,
two drunken whales sing their strange duet
and soon krill glows again
like sparks and all the shrimp. Lobster scurries
to fix the drinks the mermaids serve to fish with
teeth or tentacles or barnacles who wave their fans
and for a while forget about the
sharks and other things.