Name: and also the trees
Members: Simon Huw Jones (vocals and words), Justin Jones (guitars, zither, autoharp), Paul Hill (drums, percussion), rant Gordon (bass), Colin Ozanne (clarinet, bass clarinet, piano)
Interviewee: Simon Huw Jones
Nationality: British
Current release: and also the trees's Mother-of-pearl Moon is out via AATT / Cargo.
Recommendations: Tough one  ... but I recently came across ‘Snow falling on cedars,’ the 1994 novel by David Guterson in that box on the street corner and loved it and I just watched ‘Paterson’ the 2016 film by Jim Jarmusch and liked it a lot too - so I’ll suggest those  ... before I take too long thinking about it.

If you enjoyed this and also the trees interview and would like to stay up to date with the band's music, visit their official homepage. They are also on Instagram, and Facebook.

For an even deeper dive, read our earlier conversation with Justin Jones about the inner workings of and also the trees as a band.



Where does the impulse to create something come from for you? What role do often-quoted sources of inspiration like dreams, other forms of art, personal relationships, politics etc play?

The music ... which comes in the form of my brother's guitar ideas. That first started back in 1980 when we were kids but even now when I hear his ideas I  have this overwhelming feeling that I have to be a part of it.

My lyrics are also heavily influenced by what I read, novels mainly, film, art /photography and travel. I have also written two albums with Bernard Trontin of ‘The Young Gods’ under the name ‘November’ - and again it was the music that inspired me or gave the impulse to create.



[Read our Young Gods interview]
[Read our Young Gods interview about Terry Riley's 'In C']

For you to get started, do there need to be concrete ideas – or what some have called a 'visualisation' of the finished work? What does the balance between planning and chance look like for you?

I rely on my instincts a great deal and most of my best ideas come from  spontaneous reactions to the music - improvisations.

When that method isn’t fruitful I have to be patient and not lose my self belief ... things come eventually but often at unexpected or inconvenient moments; on the bus, in the shower, cycling back from my studio / work room, chopping wood etc..

Justin and I have tried to plan ahead in the past but usually the music follows its own course and we don’t try to divert it.

Is there a preparation phase for your process? Do you require your tools to be laid out in a particular way, for example, do you need to do 'research' or create 'early versions'?

I don’t research or think up specific ideas beforehand ... as I said I create impulsively, I just try and fill my head with as many interesting and inspiring things as possible and hope that some of it comes back out of me in a good way.

I prefer a degree of order or tidiness and I like to feel at home or in familiar surroundings - I’d love to be like Hemingway and sit in cafes writing but it doesn’t work for me ... I feel like I have to own the space.

I use dice as well to make decisions for me - which piece of music to work on, if any, how long for etc - it stops me from procrastinating and prevents me from avoiding things I shouldn’t be avoiding. More importantly it prevents me from staying with single ideas that aren’t progressing for too long.

I write by hand, with pencils or fountain pen. I don’t like writing lyrics on the computer.

Do you have certain rituals to get you into the right mindset for creating? What role do certain foods or stimulants like coffee, lighting, scents, exercise or reading poetry play?

Yes, see above for the dice weirdness. But I like to have 3B pencils and black ink, I drink a lot herbal tea, mint or ginger,

I like having books to hand - sometimes just to be there for company ... Dylan Thomas, Sylvia Plath and tribal poems from around the world are my closest ones. I used to smoke hundreds of cigarettes but I managed to stop that. I like daylight and sitting in front of a window,  or if it’s night I like a subtle warm light.

I’m way more sensitive to this kind of stuff than I’d like to be. I’d prefer to just get the hell on with it and stop fannying around but I can’t.

What do you start with? And, to quote a question by the great Bruce Duffie: When you come up with a musical idea, have you created the idea or have you discovered the idea?

Lyrically, there are times when it feels like discovering an idea that as already been there in the music and there are times when I have to force things and create myself.

The first song on our new album called ‘The Whaler’ seemed determined to be a kind of love ballad but I really didn’t want that - in the end I took out the woman and replaced her with a ship.



What makes lyrics good in your opinion? What are your own ambitions and challenges in this regard?

The first challenge for me as the lyricist is to do justice to the music and hopefully bring something to it.

I don’t want to write lyrics just to have something to sing. They must bring something.

Many writers have claimed that as soon as they enter into the process, certain aspects of the narrative are out of their hands. Do you like to keep strict control or is there a sense of following things where they lead you?

The latter, absolutely. I want what I do to be a part of the music.

There are certain lyrics I’ve written that I don’t fully understand myself and I like these a lot because in an odd way it keeps the song more alive - like there are different ways of interpreting it.

Often, while writing, new ideas and alternative roads will open themselves up, pulling and pushing the creator in a different direction. Does this happen to you, too, and how do you deal with it? What do you do with these ideas?

I will follow where the idea goes, you can always turn back ... note it and perhaps even return to it as a separate idea later.

There are many descriptions of the creative state. How would you describe it for you personally? Is there an element of spirituality to what you do?

I had no musical or literary education. So when we formed we knew nothing and didn’t know what we were doing. We were a young teenage punk band and from there we taught ourselves.

For a while, a few years even I didn’t understand where my lyrics were really coming from - it almost felt as though someone else was writing through me. But later I understood that we have a lot of stuff inside us that we don’t know is there that will come out if you give it the opportunity.

Accessing that creative vein, for me at least, remains a bit of a mystery, but I have to trust it’s there or that it will form again. It can be frustrating as it’s not something I can roll my sleeves up for and get to through hard work.

When you're in the studio to record a piece, how important is the actual performance and the moment of performing the song still in an age where so much can be “done and fixed in post?“

My vocals depend a lot on the feel of the delivery as opposed to it’s melodic accuracy so it’s important for me to be in an atmosphere and mood that is right for the occasion.

I’m less sensitive about my environment for recording than I am for creating thank God.

Once a piece is finished, how important is it for you to let it lie and evaluate it later on? How much improvement and refinement do you personally allow until you're satisfied with a piece? What does this process look like in practise?

I have a pretty good notion for knowing when a vocal and lyric is finished.

Even recording a solo song is usually a collaborative process. Tell me about the importance of trust between the participants, personal relationships between musicians and engineers and the freedom to perform and try things – rather than gear, technique or “chops” - for creating a great song.

I don’t know about the importance of personal relationships - I’d never think of working with someone I didn’t at least think I’d get on with.

I have recently worked for the first time with a violinist called Catherine Graindorge on a project of hers - she asked me to put some vocals and lyrics to a few pieces of music for her next album and I agreed because I could tell when I listened to her music that she was the kind of person I’d like. And I was right.

[Read our Catherine Graindorge interview]

It’s funny - in the first half of my life as a musician I got the impression that other most other musicians and sound engineers were absolute tossers. But in the second half pretty well everyone I’ve come into contact with has been marvellous.

What's your take on the role and importance of production, including mixing and mastering for you personally? In terms of what they contribute to a song, what is the balance between the composition and the arrangement (performance)?

Since our first album back in 84 when Lol Tolhurst was the producer with David Motion (they did a very fine job in my opinion) I don’t think a producer has really added anything especially positive to any of our albums.



Mark Tibenham worked with John Shaw very well on ‘Farewell to the shade’ in 89, but in retrospect replacing Justin’s unique guitar sound with keyboards wasn’t the best idea ... but it worked.



Then he was also all over the ‘Green is the sea’ album shortly after which sounds a bit mad when I listen back to it now with all those layers of extra keyboard sounds and samples ...



But then in another way it makes it quite remarkable in a way that we would never have thought of if we’d produced it ourselves. We trusted him, I’m not sure I’d trust anyone to bring so much of themselves to an album these days.

After finishing a piece or album and releasing something into the world, there can be a sense of emptiness. Can you relate to this – and how do you return to the state of creativity after experiencing it?

For me, playing the songs live are when they take on a different life - sometimes more vibrant and exciting, sometimes they are illusive which is frustrating.

The emptiness I have is when there is no music for me to find words and vocals for - so I like to keep a plate spinning so to speak.

Music is a language, but like any language, it can lead to misunderstandings. In which way has your own work – or perhaps the work of artists you like or admire - been misunderstood? How do you deal with this?

There was a time when we were occasionally referred to as ‘Cure wannabe’s’ which pissed us off as it was inaccurate musically and personally - as we always made a big effort not to sound like anyone else as a priority. It was also unfair as we were linked to The Cure because they liked and encouraged us - not because we were like them ... it was just lazy journalism.

We’re not keen on being labeled a Goth band either as although when we play ‘dark / Gothic’ festivals we come across many really likeable and genuine people who are Goths. We’re not really into that style of music and can’t hear how we could fall into the same category.

But then we are probably a bit oversensitive in that respect.

Creativity can reach many different corners of our lives. Do you personally feel as though writing a piece of music is inherently different from something like making a great cup of coffee? What do you express through music that you couldn't or wouldn't in more 'mundane' tasks?

Well without wanting to come across as being too immodest I think what we are doing is inimitable whereas making a great cup of coffee or cooking a marvellous meal isn’t.

Generally speaking music goes deeper - perhaps deeper even than visual art.