Sleeping States

"This picture is of Aldeburgh beach. Aldeburgh is a small fishing town on the east coast of England in the county of Suffolk, where the composer Benjamin Britten lived for many years, with his partner, the tenor Peter Pears. It's also the setting for Britten's opera, Peter Grimes, about a fisherman who is accused of murder. It's one of my father's favourite pieces of music and he took me to visit Aldeburgh several years ago, when I was studying at university in that area of the country. The sculpture in the picture is The Scallop, which was commissioned as a tribute to Benjamin Britten. There's a song on Gardens called On The Beach At Aldeburgh, which recollects the visit with my father, as well as referring to Britten's own music.

I generally listen to music most when I'm walking around. I think because of that I recorded Gardens with headphones specifically in mind, I like the way the music blends in with the acoustics of the environment. There's this album by the band Charalambides called Unknown Spin, which is very sparse and quiet, and I loved listening to that while I walked around as the music blended in so well with the surrounding sounds, rather than blotting it out like a lot of music does. I think I tried to achieve some of that with Gardens.

I think my music is very influenced by my environment. My writing is largely observational, I tend to describe what's around me and go from there. I took some creative writing classes when I was at university years ago, and I discovered I was very much one of those writers whose stories were all description and no plot, and so for me song lyrics seem a good format for my style of writing - I mean, I think I'm more happy writing vignettes than epics.

These days I do tend to listen to music on my ipod most of all - I walk to work so I listen to it a lot then. My record player died over a year ago and in my current place I don't really have room for another one, but I've promised myself that when I move again in the next few months I'll get a new one. I still really enjoy listening to LPs and there are certain records that even though I love them I definitely wouldn't buy or listen to them as mp3s on my ipod. Like Gastr Del Sol or Silver Jews and stuff, I'm not sure why, they just seem better suited to vinyl to me.

[On London and Brighton] It's true that a lot of musicians and artists flock to London to be part of that community, and I thrived in it for several years. But ultimately I think because there are so many musicians and so on trying to get themselves heard, there's this competitive edge that I didn't really like. Making music is a love of mine but it's not a career, and that distinction is very important to me - making music is an end in itself, not a means to achieving something greater, and while its great that people like what I put out, that's never been a driving force. And in Bristol I think the music scene is more in keeping with that mindset, and there is a very supportive and creative scene here. Because the vast majority of the national media is based in London and is predominantly concerned with what's happening on its own doorstep, the regional communities (such as Bristol) seem freer to create without the pressure of trying to get noticed or whatever. Also, there were other reasons for moving to Bristol not related to music, job and so forth - but that seems to cover the creative side of things I guess.

There's a place in Bristol called the Cube Cinema that's really great. It's volunteer run and has one screen that they screen arthouse films and stuff and they also put on bands in the same theatre as the screen is set at the back of a stage. It's really tiny, like I think there's only about 120 seats in there, but there's always a great atmosphere, either playing or watching other bands. I did the Gardens album launch there which was really fun, my drummer and cellist covered the stage in branches and leaves and flowers and things, it looked pretty rural. I saw Carla Bozulich there a few weeks ago and she was amazing.

I am a true bedroom musician, 90% of everything I write (and many of the recordings, certainly the earlier ones) is done there, mainly because I have everything to have here and if I get a musical idea in my head I like to act on it quickly. Also I'm therefore surrounded by my books and record collection and so forth, which really helps to draw on while I'm making music. Although I'm now living with other people again I did live on my own throughout the period of writing and recording In the Gardens of the North, and I was grateful for the space and the opportunity to spread my stuff out a bit.

Because I'm very into recording atmospheres of wherever I'm recording the songs and keeping them in the mixes - I often even put a microphone by the window to capture what's going on outside. So in that way the locations become more than just the place where I made the recordings but an active layer in the recordings. I've always liked music recorded in this way. The Swedish singer Stina Nordenstam's album of covers (People Are Strange) was a very influential album on me when it came out in the late nineties, particularly in terms of recording. It doesn't really fit in with the 'lofi' tag, but it sounds very homemade in parts and she leaves in all sorts of atmosphere recordings throughout the songs. Her cover of Rod Stewart's Sailing gives such a wonderful impression of the room she recorded it in - it sounds like she left the window open."

Thanks to Markland for the interview. Check out Sleeping States here: http://www.sleepingstates.co.uk/

White Sands National Monument, New Mexico

A Sunny Day In Glasgow

"just took a photo at dealy plaza, where jfk was shot. the misfits sing about jfk.

SMCJ was recorded all in my apartment and it was all direct-in. not much space there. but for ashes grammar we did record it in a huge warehouse type place. i feel like this definitely had an impact on things. we were able to experiment alot with sounds and natural reverb and natural harmonics and stuff like that.

I dont think [the place you listen to A Sunny Day In Glasgow] really matters. for me, i like it in headphones, walking around a city in your own little world. probably in the rain.

I love [listening to music] on the train. i love travelling because you have no problems when you are travelling. there's nothing you can do about anything. you just have to get where you are going. so i love to stare out the window and listen to music and forget about my life

i've gotten alot of mileage from my time in scotland and london. it was wonderful to get to live there for a few years. i didnt really write any music in those places, but when i got back i wrote alot about that time. my year in glasgow happened to coincide with alot of really bad things happening in my life and i was pretty depressed there. and then it never occurred to me that it could rain everyday in a place and that the sun might go away one day and not come back for weeks. so when the sun came out it was like taking alot of drugs or something. it was just an intense part of my life and those sunny days were just really special to me. i think scotland is the most beautiful place i've ever been. i am also a fan of Maine.

I live in Sydney now, but the band is in philly and i've spent the rest of my life in philly. it's a great place to live. not too expensive, lots of kids, lots of music. i seem to be only able to write songs in philly too. i am little scared about living in sydney now.

we are on tour now. i am listening to the following alot:

jj #2 by jj
wasp's nest by the 6ths
charm of the highway strip by magnetic fields
the xx
go betweens
shakira
the association"

Thanks to Ben (via Steph) for the interview.

Xmas Haitus

Just a quick note to say that I'll only be able to update this blog sporadically as I'm in Arizona currently till January 4th. That being said, I have interviews from A Sunny Day In Glasgow and Sleeping States to upload. In January I'll start uploading some of my Arizona blog.

Kerala Diary Excerpt Pt. 4

Here's the fourth and final instalment of a diary I wrote while I visited Kerala, India, this August with my family.

"14/8/09

Our second and final day in Munnar. No one seems too happy about our accommodation. A rat was running through my parents tree house last night and my brothers are similarly unimpressed by their night time visitors.
First today we head to Erivakulam National Park, which is home to a rare species of goat, the Nilgiri Tahr. Initial impressions are less than hopeful as the drive to the park is eclipsed by mist. The park itself is not like any national park I have ever visited, seeming more like a large hill with a man-made road acting as a walk-way. Although we are told that the goats are not out today, my older brother and I spot two when we reach the top. They look like healthier, cuddlier versions of the common goat we’ve been seeing all over Kerala. Not incredible, but not a disappointment.
We head for an excellent lunch in a pretty plush hotel in Munnar. For some reason they are playing dance music from the 90s here. I identify Underworld amongst others. The hotel is nice and sparks my parent on to ask if there are rooms available. There aren’t, but it sends Saji on a quest to find an alternative to “Nature Zone”. Eventually we find one in Munnar that seems perfectly fine. I am pleased as there is internet and so I will be able to finally email A., a task I have been unable to do for eight days.
Today I have been mainly listening to “I <3 CAMPING”. I’m in much more of a compilation style mood today. I start to think about how itunes may have revived that old wonderful tradition of making mixtapes. They are so easy to make using it, I wonder if purists would argue that something has been lost in the lack of having to sit down and physically transfer every song to tape. Still, I love mixtapes and like how accessible they have become. Making people mixtapes is a lot of fun.
The dinner at the new hotel is excellent, I have a beer and settle down to listen to “Wind’s Poem”, the new Mt. Eerie album, and play some Kirby on the DS.
I was recently joking with a friend that there appears to be no appropriate time to listen to this record, so dark and elemental are its sounds. But listening to the rain falling in the mountains and I think I may have found the perfect occasion. I think this record is a big step up from Phil Elverum’s last Mt Eerie album proper. Although I enjoyed “Lost Wisdom”, I was dying something more akin to his Microphones releases, which I love so much. I think much ink will be spilled discussing the alleged “black metal” influences in this album, but it sounds very much, to me, as a maturer Elverum at work here. It’s dark, sure, but there are some epic moments of emotion and sustained cavernous melody found in the droning keyboards and Twin Peaks references. As a songwriter, Elverum appears to have overcome what has recently been holding him back, a morbid self-referentiality that bordered on outright boredom at points, and replaced it with a rediscovered awe at the elements, in this case, the wind. The wind is all over this album, in the lyrics, in the heavily spacious production, in the liberal use of the ride cymbal, and the aforementioned keyboard motifs. This renewed focus makes “Wind’s Poem” a truly fascinating and, most importantly, a rewarding listen; it’s an album you can spend hours with discovering new things. It’s so nice to see Elverum regain his sense of wonder again, even if it is a dark one.

16/8/09

Today we leave Munnar and head to Madurai, the “city of temples”, in neighbouring state, Tamil Nadu. Madurai is roughly 5 hours south east of Munnar. To get there, we have to drive out of the mountains. While we drive down, I check my ipod. I don’t have much charge left. I elect to listen to two Neil Young albums, “Harvest” and “Living With War”, “The Body, The Blood, The Machine” by The Thermals, and “Wind’s Poem” again by Mt Eerie.
Neil Young is someone I got into relatively late, “After the Gold Rush” being the first of his albums I purchased (from Fopp for £5) at roughly 22. Despite this, I keep wanting to get more and more of his material, and I am slowly building up a small collection. “Harvest”, from 1972, is not as easy an album to listen to as “After…”, using more, and harsher orchestration. I am enjoying it though. “Living With War”, one of Young’s more recent records is, in my opinion, vastly underrated. Sure, the production and politics are a little thrown in the listener’s face, but there’s something powerfully sad and angry about this music and the time it was written was certainly a time for a call to arms. The Thermals album is similarly inspired by the Bush era and is likewise angry, although heading more towards a pop punk aesthetic. Still, this music kills when it’s done well (see “Pinkerton”), and this is definitely done well.
The change from Kerala to Tamil Nadu is more intense than any of us expected and catches us all a little off guard. The land is flatter, sparser, and almost dessert-like. There are more people here and the poverty is more intense, much like the north.
We arrive at Madurai and check into the hotel. To my delight, there is internet here which I will later use to email A. again quickly. We meet out temple guide, Meena, who is named after the famous Meenashki temple, which we will be visiting. “Meenashki” means “fish eyes” and seems an unfortunate name on this basis. Meena takes us to a palace and the temple, which is one of the most impressive temples I’ve seen in India, containing numerous towers covered in statues and painted various bright colours, of which, blue and purple are used most often: the colours of Vishnu, whose wife Parvatti this temple is dedicated to. After the temple we return to the hotel and have an excellent, but late, dinner (9pm) and depart to our rooms."

Spiced Lentils to Lambchop

http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2009/feb/07/vegetarian-recipe-spiced-lentils-yogurt

Andrew Kenny (American Analog Set/The Wooden Birds)

"I've always thought that the American Analog Set was great driving music. The Wooden Birds probably fall into that category as well. There's something about quiet repetition that works well with driving because your attention needs to shift from time to time. It's a bit like listening to a conversation, but drifting away for a moment. When you return, you still understand what's happening even though a point has been made and the conversation has moved on a little bit.

I moved back [to Austin] because I thought it would be a good place to start the Wooden Birds project. Now a year an a half later, I'm the only Wooden Bird that lives in Austin and the only shows we've played here have been on tour or at SXSW.

That being said, Austin really is a great place for music. It's an oasis in the middle of Texas, culturally, socially, politically, and geographically. Creative people make music here. People go to shows here. The city as a whole recognizes that music is a part of what makes Austin interesting.

Living in Brooklyn, my favorite place to listen to music was the on subway. In Austin, my favorite place to listen to music is on my bicycle or in the car. If I had to look for a common thread, I'd have to say it's that I most often do these things by myself. Maybe there are times that music is too distracting for conversation. And it can be too personal and sometimes embarrassing to experience that range of emotion when you're with other people.

[On the best venues to play]There are a few. Schubas in Chicago. The Great American Music Hall in SF. The Bowery in NY come to mind immediately. I like the way these venues sound and that's (probably?) important. There are any number of ways that a show can become memorable. Most fall into two categories though. Either your band sounds good there, like the few I mentioned just now or the crowd just makes it a great show. It is an interactive experience, after all. For that reason, I'd have to include the Astra Strube and Tanzhalle in Hamburg where I've played 2 of the most memorable shows of my life.

For me, space in music comes from patience. And patience is one of those virtues that home recordists can afford to have. Take that with a grain of salt, of course, because I've really only been on the DIY side of this particular fence.

Music comes in pieces for me. Guitar at home. Lyrics most often away from home. I don't know why that's always been the case.

My top 5 records from tour this Fall (not including books on cd and mixes) were:

Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix Phoenix
The Dark Leaves Matt Pond PA
Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere Neil Young
Origin:Orphan The Hidden Cameras
3 Rounds and a Sound Blind Pilot"

Thanks to Andrew (via Ever) for the interview.

Kerala Diary Excerpt Pt. 3

...and here's another excerpt from a diary I was writing in Kerala, India this August.

"13/8/09

Today we are travelling to the Munnar Region, one of the few mountainous parts of Kerala. Situated roughly 150km to the west of Kochi, Munnar is famous for tea plantations and exotic wildlife.
We also switch drivers and cars, from Sajeev to Saji, and from an estate to a twelve seater coach.
I decide to spend the four hour journey listening to my ipod. Driving through Kochi, and struggling to pick something to listen to, I eventually settle on “Catacombs” by Cass McCombs. For whatever reason, this has become my default album, meaning that I tend to listen to it in situations where I can’t decide what to listen to. There’s something beautifully relaxed about this record, despite containing some pretty intense music. McCombs’ sense of space and his willingness to let songs play out as long as they need (almost six minutes in some cases) fits my desire to relax and take in the sights of driving through Kochi, which today looks as inviting as ever with its mix of green jungle and brightly coloured houses. There are less people here than there are in the north which makes it a far more comfortable environment to traverse. “Catacombs” takes me all the way through Kochi and into the surrounding jungle. I change my mind about the two tracks near the end, I like them more now. It occurs to me that I am always soundtracking my life and that the only other places where soundtracks occur are tv and film. I wonder if this involves me more in my environment or creates an imaginary boundary. Could this be unhealthy?
Next up, I pick Elliott Smith. I remember that his has been the only “celebrity” death I have lived through to have had an emotional impact on me. There is something so personal and particular about his music which makes the listener really feel like they’re listening to him the man rather than a pop singer. I pick, “From the Basement on the Hill”, his last, and posthumous, release.
In many respects, “From a Basement…” shouldn’t have been as good an album as it is. It had been a long time since Smith had released anything, and his last, “Figure 8”, was not particularly good, and “From…” was compiled after his death. All these signs point to a potential misfire of an album which is why it is so surprising that it actually serves as good a “final” album as any Elliott Smith fan could have hoped for. The production is not as stale as “Figure 8”, the subject matter sticks pretty closely to what Smith’s best at – sensitive, semi-miserable, often heart-breaking songs about mistaken relationships and substance abuse, and Smith himself sounds, somewhat tragically, very alive. It’s nice to listen to it and think about the man and his music as I watch the jungle woosh past. It would be remiss of me here not to mention that “New Moon”, the compilation of rarities released after “From a Basement…”, is similarly fantastic, and even more intimate a listening experience.
We’re driving uphill now. The Munnar region is 6,000 feet above sea level so we’ll be driving uphill for a while. We stop for tea and afterwards something draws me towards “Life is Full of Possibilities” by DNTEL.
I think that this album may achieve forgotten masterpiece status at some point. It was at risk of this not long after its release when The Postal Service album became far more popular than the Ben Gibbard DNTEL collaboration on “Life…” ever was, despite the latter’s superiority, at least in my opinion.
“Life…” trade in organic keyboard swell, glitchy beats, and just enough guest vocalists so that it is not overwhelmed by a multitude of actors. The subject matter is shamelessly bleak, but the music itself, as so much great music does, transcends this totally. It’s an album of incredible depth and warmth, something that you can bury yourself in entirely. It can be an intense listening experience, but an incredibly rich one nonetheless. I have so many memories attached to it, so obsessed with it was I when it came out. For instance, it reminds me very much of various trips I made with a friend to Edinburgh, Glasgow, and Dundee from Aberdeen, my hometown, on the megabus. I have a distinctive image of the grey and green Scottish countryside with rain pouring and hitting the windows of the bus. Other strong memories are attached to “(This is the Dream Of) Evan and Chan”, the aforementioned Gibbard collaboration. It’s a song that itself inspires nostalgia, containing lyrics like, “He then played every song from 1993, the crowd applauded as he curtseyed bashfully, your eyebrows tickled my neck with every nervous blink…”, and still stands as the my favourite track Gibbard has ever contributed to. It’s amazing.
We’re almost there, we’ve climbed quite high now. The jungle looks so beautiful with a combination of rubber palms, eucalyptus trees, and banana plants. Every now and then I catch a glimpse of an amazing looking flower or insect. I start listening to Tiny Vipers’ “Life on Earth”.
I must be a sucker for intensity at the moment, as this wonderful folk album, which has only recently been released, is a lot to take in. Still, the singer’s voice is incredible and there is something so rough and damaged sounding about the music that give it such a fragile and commanding presence. It’s a long record, perhaps too long, but like “Catacombs” there is something admirable about music that takes as long as it needs.
We arrive at Munnar, which is a small town overlooking incredible bright and dark green coloured tea fields that are eclipsed by a kinetic grey mist that makes the place feel like a Myazaki film. We have to transfer from our coach to a jeep to get to our hotel, “Nature Zone”, which is further up a rough stone-filled road. We drive up past more tea fields and jungle, all looking mysterious and interesting.
“Nature Zone” itself is composed of free-standing tents, a restaurant structure, and some tree houses where we will be staying. The tree houses are high up but are well-constructed, with some flaws. Because the structures are built around the trees themselves, there is a giant, living tree trunk in the room with holes surrounding it. Holes are no good if mosquitos are to be kept out. Living tree trunks are no good if tropical insects are to kept out as we will learn later, when a giant stick insect will visit Owen in the night.
The staff at “Nature Zone” seem unfortunately deficient of any knowledge about nature, which is sad although we identify from our balcony some of the giant squirrels native to this region. The look like something in between a monkey and a squirrel, more like a lemur than anything else. Kind of cute. Dinner is good but takes a long time. In the evening I play Kirby on the DS and work on a letter for A."