Do plants have consciousness? Is it possible to find a musical frequency in the biological rhythms of the organic world? Can creative authorship exist beyond the human form?

Joyful Noise Recordings invites listeners to explore these questions with the signing of its newest and perhaps most radical artist: the Sound Sanctuary. A living collective, the Sound Sanctuary is a plant ensemble centered around a towering money tree (Pachira aquatica) and four rubber trees (Ficus elastica). 

Electrodes attached to the leaves detect subtle changes in electrical conductivity and tranlate it into musical data. A synthesizer connected to the plants allows human collaborators to shape the sound through filters and tonal adjustments. The result is a one-of-a-kind interface for interspecies musical collaboration.

In harmony with natural cycles, Joyful Noise Recordings will release four collaboration albums this year:

Deerhoof & The Sound Sanctuary is out digitally on April 14, 2026, with the standalone 10" and box set bundle expected to ship in August 2026.

The Sound Sanctuary arrives at a moment of cultural erosion, as digital systems are increasingly engineered to mimic the human spirit in the name of efficiency. The project stands as an act of resistance to the accelerating rise of AI-generated music. Karl Hofstetter, founder of Joyful Noise Recordings, describes the Sound Sanctuary as the “opposite of AI” — a return to the organic soil of creation. As streaming platforms introduce artificial artists designed to harvest profits once sustained by living musicians, the Sound Sanctuary seeks inspiration in the frequencies of the natural world.

The engineering behind this interaction is rooted in a generative system in which the plants themselves act as composers. Electrodes attached to the leaves detect subtle changes in electrical conductivity caused by the movement of water during photosynthesis. This biological data is translated into MIDI, the digital language that allows electronic instruments and computers to communicate musical notes, effectively giving the plants a musical voice. While the Sound Sanctuary determines the underlying notes and tempo, a synthesizer connected to the plants allows human collaborators to shape the sound through filters and tonal adjustments. The result is a one-of-a-kind interface for interspecies musical collaboration.

The Sound Sanctuary recording sessions elicited a wide spectrum of responses from the human collaborators, each approaching the interaction from a distinct vantage point, ranging from skepticism to mysticism. JD Pinkus leaned fully into the project’s mystical dimension. Performing on banjo, he began the collaboration with his song “Fungus Shui.” “I chose that one because it’s about plant medicine,” Pinkus explains. “I thought it would be fitting — but that’s when I thought I was going to be the one telling the plants what to do.” That assumption quickly dissolved. “I had to actually let the plants play the song, and I had to play the plants.” Pinkus set his banjo aside and began watering and gently handling the leaves, as the Sound Sanctuary’s output shifted from dissonance into a warm purr. “You could actually hear a change in what was coming out of the plants,” he reflects.

In contrast, Deerhoof approached the session with force rather than reverence. As Greg Saunier pushed the limits of volume and intensity, the plants responded in kind, producing sounds that grew unexpectedly percussive and rhythmically dense, mirroring the physical energy filling the room. This reactive nature also surfaced during a session with Yoni Wolf, when the plants abruptly shifted keys in precise alignment with his piano playing. “All of us looked at each other like, ‘What the fuck?’” recalls Hofstetter.

The most cautious perspective came from Kaoru Ishibashi, who records as Kishi Bashi. He approached the session with skepticism, shaped in part by conversations with his wife, an environmental ethicist, about the limits of human-centered interpretations of nature. “She’s doubtful that the plants even know that we’re there,” Ishibashi says. That skepticism, however, did not prevent him from engaging with the experience. Instead, it shifted his attention away from intention and toward shared conditions. “Some of this is spiritual to think about,” he adds. “We’re sharing carbon dioxide with them, and they breathe it in.” For him, the Sound Sanctuary becomes “a reminder that we’re interconnected with our entire planet,” and of how easily that dependence is forgotten.

The Sound Sanctuary lives within the Church of Noise, a nonprofit 501(c)(3) organization founded by Joyful Noise Recordings to support adventurous, independent musicians. Located at the label’s Indianapolis headquarters, the Sound Sanctuary is housed within a handcrafted physical vessel designed and built by “Church of Noise elder” and 2019 JNR artist-in-residence Thor Harris of Swans. A master woodworker and craftsman, Harris built the structure using found materials salvaged from the JNR office, including the casing of a 1940s Presto record lathe and a broken subwoofer enclosure.

Beyond creating music, Hofstetter hopes the Sound Sanctuary can spark renewed curiosity around the scientific study of plant consciousness. He believes something meaningful is taking place in these collaborations, while stopping short of certainty. “I think there needs to be more science to really define what that is,” Hofstetter says. “I’m not a scientist. I’m a fucking record label guy. I’m just fascinated by the fact that we can interact with plants on an audio level, and we’re trying to do that in an explorative way.”