Name: Jack Froggatt aka Elmar
Nationality: Australian
Occupation: Producer, singer, songwriter
Current release: Elmar’s debut album Beneath My Skin is out now on Saint Lucky Records. Get it here.

If you enjoyed this Elmar interview and would like to know more about his work, visit his official homepage. He is also on Instagram.  
 


When I listen to music, I see shapes, objects and colours. What happens in your body when you're listening? Do you listen with your eyes open or closed?

I can definitely relate to that, though for me that comes from very deep intentional listening.

Music allows me to find that depth I sometimes reach through meditation. This is my favourite environment to listen to music, where I feel my breath so connected to my body and the visuals in my head seem to dive into an ocean like depth. It’s mostly ambient or piano works - I’ve been working on a playlist called ‘So Far Some Place Else.’

When I’m listening to music through my day to day, more casual listening I don’t have as much of a visceral experience, probably my songwriter analytical brain engaging, always looking for new inspiration.

How do listening with headphones and listening through a stereo system change your experience of sound and music?

I find it’s quite a drastic change, hearing music in a space like a living room, car, bedroom, feels more like a lived passive experience, however with headphones there’s a lot more dissociation from the outside world.

I sometimes find this disconnection a bit too much as I often work alone, it‘s those experiences out in public - catching the train/bus, walking - I really want to cherish.

Tell me about some of the albums or artists that you love specifically for their sound, please.

There’s a few. Sonically I’ve always loved albums that really focus on building a strong foundation in the low end, I just love the bass guitar.

Songs like “Everybody Here Wants You” by Jeff Buckley, “Dreams” by Common Saints, “By Your Side” by Sade. All carry a very firm place in my listening.



I think as a vocalist I’ve always loved gliding over the music, and these few songs and artists in general I think pull that off in such an interesting way.

A particular era of music that I’ve always gravitated to is albums released in 1971/2. I just find the character in that era so hauntingly beautiful.

Do you experience strong emotional responses towards certain sounds? If so, what kind of sounds are these and do you have an explanation about the reasons for these responses?

It probably comes as no surprise that the sound of the ocean's waves elicit an overwhelming sense of calm for me. I love the white noise of waves crashing on the shore, as though earth is sighing. I love the sound of diving under a wave, when the water mutes your ears and I can hear the depths of the ocean.

Ultimately it is the consistent monotony of the waves moving again and again in the ocean and on the shoreline that evoke so much in me. I’ve always loved this Mary Oliver poem that reads -

I go down to the shore in the morning
and depending on the hour the waves
are rolling in or moving out,
and I say, oh, I am miserable,
what shall—
what should I do? And the sea says
in its lovely voice:
"Excuse me, I have work to do.”

I think for me the sound of the ocean is a reminder to not overthink, rather just move with the seasons and tide and time.

There can be sounds which feel highly irritating to us and then there are others we could gladly listen to for hours. Do you have examples for either one or both of these?

It’s the start of summer here in Australia at the moment and I oscillate between loving and hating the sound of the chorus of cicadas that rise and fall all day.

It’s always a reminder of the holidays for me and I do love that, but there is also a strange frustration that comes when you walk outside on a call or to find some peace only to be bombarded with a mid-high frequency chirp of what could be thousands of cicadas.

Are there everyday places, spaces, or devices which intrigue you by the way they sound? Which are these?

I love sitting on the train, or driving past stadiums at night and hearing the roar of the crowd. This sound of human life, and the community that just happens by us meeting in public spaces has such a fascinating and evolving sound.

I love that I can choose to tune in and listen to people chatter about life, I can transport out of my mind, my world and my problems by holding space for others, it’s something I’ve always loved.

Have you ever been in spaces with extreme sonic characteristics, such as anechoic chambers or caves? What was the experience like?

I’ve been to this amazing space in Landers California called ‘The Integratron’. It’s run by some friends I met whilst touring this year with Odesza. It was such a unique experience.

he building itself is constructed without any nails, or metals, so it resonates - in a way I’d never heard before.


Integraton Photo (c) Integraton

For the sound bath itself you lie on a mattress, with the head pointing to the centre of the room, and the Quartz bowls are rung in unison, causing a sonic wave of sound to collide and echo through your body. It’s quite a harmonising experience.

The building itself is steeped in some fascinating history and definitely worth visiting.

What are among your favourite spaces to record and play your music?

I’ve still yet to find a place that I return to consistently, having travelled a lot the past decade and moved homes so many times, I don’t have one particular place. Mostly it’s convenience, a hotel room on tour, or a bedroom with a desk space.

If I was to pick one category of space, I’ve always loved renting a cabin somewhere, whether in the forests, by the coastline, or somewhere surrounded by nature, and just camping out for 2 weeks.

I have a very short focus time. So I find going somewhere intentionally to get bored so that all that’s left for me to do is write and record music is a great way for me to be productive.

Do music and sound feel “material” to you? Does working with sound feel like you're sculpting or shaping something?

It can. I think as I’ve delved deeper into my own production work I’ve learnt to fill the audio medium like a room, this play and exploration into space has been really enjoyable to work in.

I think came from my love for meditation, just being bathed in an environment and feeling the depths of music. Perhaps as I dive deeper into my music-making practice it will begin to feel even more physical.

How important is sound for our overall well-being and how far do you feel the "acoustic health" of a society or environment is reflective of its overall health?

I think it’s important. It’s just another tool to be connected, to root into the present moment.


Elmar Interview Image (c) the artist

Sound, song, and rhythm are all around us, from animal noises to the waves of the ocean. What, if any, are some of the most moving experiences you've had with these non-human-made sounds?

I’ll never forget the moment I was out surfing in the ocean, I saw something in the distance above the surface, that looked to be the fin of a baby whale.

On the East Coast of Australia we see many Humpback whales migrate up the coast for birthing and return a few months later with their offspring, often during this process the whales find bays to rest in. On this day I just happened to witness a baby whale and its mother, submerged in the water about 10-20 metres from me.

I dived under the surface and could hear them communicating, it was such a beautiful experience and one I’ll never forget.

Tinnitus and developing hyperacusis are very real risks for anyone working with sound. Do you take precautions in this regard and if you're suffering from these or similar issues – how do you cope with them?

Like most touring musicians, I learnt this lesson the hard way.

Fortunately my hearing isn’t too far gone, just a slight duck in the high end in my left ear from years of support touring with my drummer banging his cymbals to my left every night. We were still on Stage Monitors at the time and I didn’t wear ear plugs.

Now every gig I go to, I bring ear plugs. When performing I wear my In-ear-moulds and wireless pack, and in every other scenario I’ll just mute my ears with a bit of tissue if I get stuck!

We can surround us with sound every second of the day. The great pianist Glenn Gould even considered this the ultimate delight. How do you see that yourself and what importance does silence hold?

Ah Silence, as equally important, if not more than sound.

I do love embracing the quiet, especially after long songwriting sessions in the studio, or even just a long day socialising. I find silence in the ocean, mostly surfing, or sometimes swimming laps in the public pool.

I need to be disciplined and to not let my thoughts run wild. But once the thoughts are at bay, silence can be such a powerful tool for me to see things clearer.

Seth S. Horowitz called hearing the “universal sense” and emphasised that it was more precise and faster than any of our other senses, including vision. How would our world be different if we paid less attention to looks and listened more instead?

I’ve been recently reading a book called ‘Letting Go - The Pathway To Surrender’ by David Hawkins. In it he talks about the importance of ‘holding space’ listening to what's around you, listening in conversations more than talking, just even being silent with someone, is such a powerful way to connect more deeply with one another.

It’s a practice for me, one that I'm constantly learning and re-learning. I think the world would be a very different place if we listened, just to those around us, before we try anything else.