Part 2

Could you take us through a day in your life, from a possible morning routine through to your work? Do you have a fixed schedule? How do music and other aspects of your life feed back into each other - do you separate them or instead try to make them blend seamlessly?

I work a full-time gardening job right now which is enjoyable. I like the physical labour, the lack of constant monitoring by a boss or clients, and the fresh air. It gives me time to think, crack jokes with my co-workers, and keep in shape.  
I don’t work as fervently on music as I used to, it’s more in spurts now, or as a form of exercise or play, which I can compile the ideas together for whatever project. I’m most productive when someone asks me to play a show or record a set or gives me a deadline to finish a record.
It’s nice to have something to balance the music against, to provide inspiration to play off. When it’s just full-time music I can find myself going crazy, I get too into it and put too much pressure on myself.

Could you describe your creative process on the basis of a piece or album that's particularly dear to you, please? Where did the ideas come from, how were they transformed in your mind, what did you start with and how do you refine these beginnings into the finished work of art?

Every record is different, but it usually comes from many scraps of ideas which are created over time, which then get sorted through and finished in a fervent working period to meet a deadline. I usually have an aesthetic vision, For the latest Lee Paradise record, The Fink, I wanted it to sound existential, to honour and exorcise feelings of guilt and regret from the past, acknowledge that there can be a melodrama in bouts of depression, and use the feeling of an apocalyptic sci-fi future as the sonic canvas. I consider it to sound like a William Gibson novel that also addresses personal turmoil and negative thought loops. A little tongue in cheek, self-aware, but also hyper-serious and wrapped up in ego, if that makes sense.

It is supposed to sound robotically AI but covered in dust and rust, as technology does not all progress at the same speeds. I wrote lyrics to have something to sing at the shows that I played with my band and then finished it when my label Telephone Explosion agreed to release it.
Every record is different though. Honestly. And I always feel like I am relearning the process. I go crazy finishing the mixing, comparing mixes, trying to manage every aspect. It is obsessive and not healthy.

There are many descriptions of the ideal state of mind for being creative. What is it like for you? What supports this ideal state of mind and what are distractions? Are there strategies to enter into this state more easily?

I used to use a lot of chemicals, drank a lot, smoked a lot, a lot of extreme emotional situations as well, and put a lot of pressure on myself. It wasn’t fun after a while and I burnt out. But these days I am trying to relax more, trust my instinct and my artistic intuition. I feel that I owe it to myself at this point, and to the musicians and artists who have inspired me, and with whom I collaborate with. I’m thankful for music and art, and create it for play, enjoyment, medicine and therapy and human connection. Meditation, talk therapy, nutrition and exercise really help keep in a good mind-set as well. I used to believe that severe depression brought out the best quality work in me, but while that’s true sometimes it is not an absolute. Good creative work can happen in any state, it’s just about actually getting down to business.

How is playing live and writing music in the studio connected? What do you achieve and draw from each experience personally? How do you see the relationship between improvisation and composition in this regard?

Playing live and studio have historically been quite separate for me. I like the control in the studio and experimenting and tweaking towards an end. I tend to record/produce the music first and then re-learn how to perform it live with my bandmates if that makes sense. I unfortunately battle major stage fright and social anxiety from the show environments, so that has been difficult to deal with, especially since cutting down on chemicals. Performing a concert is a strangely masochistic event for me, that I simultaneously crave/abhor. That being said I adore hearing/feeling the music really loud, especially the sub bass, and playing with other musicians is extremely rewarding, as is the act of practicing together towards a shared goal. I think I prefer rehearsing with my bandmates then playing the concerts.

How do you see the relationship between the 'sound' aspects of music and the 'composition' aspects? How do you work with sound and timbre to meet certain production ideas and in which way can certain sounds already take on compositional qualities?

A composition is as much the production quality for me as it is the melody or chords. I like things to sound a little gritty, bassy, dusty and odd. I like these characteristics and feel like they convey a more intimate world, full of natural imperfections.

Our sense of hearing shares intriguing connections to other senses. From your experience, what are some of the most inspiring overlaps between different senses - and what do they tell us about the way our senses work? What happens to sound at its outermost borders?

I love the connection between music and physicality. Feeling the bass in your entire body in a club is a high that I can’t get anywhere else; 120 bpm for hours till morning, in a trance state. 160-180 bpm club music and how it compels me to move, and raises my heart rate. Dub reggae has an instant relaxing effect on me, and I find it insane how cumbia and reggaeton literally force the body to move. Meditating to Hiroshi Yoshimura’s ambient music, my heart rate slows down and I feel instantly safe. Hard core music and thrashing. Also, emotional and psychological senses; how does an instrumental piano piece by Charles Mingus make me feel so thoughtful, sad and pensive? What memories do songs bring up, how we can hear a song and feel like we know it from a past life. Songs to listen to when you are curled up in a ball on your bed. Songs to fuck or make love to.
I’ve heard that when people have amnesia or dementia they can often remember music better than other things, so it has a huge long-term effect on the brain.  
I also appreciate the link between music and visuals, in film or in stills, and how a visual can so obviously conjure up or be paired with certain visual aesthetic or fashion. Hip hop and punk fashion come to mind first and foremost.

Art can be a purpose in its own right, but it can also directly feed back into everyday life, take on a social and political role and lead to more engagement. Can you describe your approach to art and being an artist?

My partner April has taught me a lot about using whatever small platform we have to address political issues and social inequality. I tend to make art as a form of personal therapy, which is inwards-based and somewhat self-involved, but April reminds me through her own lyrics, work and activism as an artist, journalist and film-maker that art is a valuable tool for addressing inequality in the world and bringing attention to it.
Whether it is contributing services, art or funds to a good cause, making space for marginalized voices, or highlighting the work of others, there is always more that we can do.
I live in and benefit from a white-supremacist nation, Canada, which is on Indigenous land and is highly racist to people of colour, specifically Black and Indigenous, and it’s important not to forget that, so I try to contribute to the cause and stand in solidarity where I can, though I know that I could learn more and act more and actually need to do this. Sometimes I take my privilege for granted.

It is remarkable, in a way, that we have arrived in the 21st century with the basic concept of music still intact. Do you have a vision of music, an idea of what music could be beyond its current form?

I find electronic club dance music and hip hop to be the most evolving and forward-thinking genres, and I’m excited to be an audience member to those. I think advances happen in the realms of technology and production, and style and vibe. It’s not about originality in melody or notes anymore….just tones, technical elasticity, and swagger.