Part One

Name: Neil Cowley
Nationality: British
Occupation: pianist/composer/producer
Current Release: Battery Life on Mote
Recommendations: ‘The Noise of Time’ by Julian Barnes. A book that appears to be set inside Dmitri Shostakovich's head, or at least from a very introspective perspective. For me, it shines a light on the art of making art under a political system. The rules apply not just for the Soviet model, but for the western capitalist model too. I have my own thoughts on that. Thoughts that I’d be happy to share if you ever meet me! / ‘Touch Her Soft Lips And Part’ by William Walton. A truly exquisite piece of music from Henry V by Laurence Olivier that sounds like love at that point when it first blossoms. Delicate, gentle and adoring.

If you enjoy this interview with Neil Cowley, visit his website where you can listen to and buy his music, and find tour information.

When did you start writing/producing/playing music and what or who were your early passions and influences? What was it about music and/or sound that drew you to it?

I started learning piano on my 6th birthday. I suppose it was by way of a gift. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but I guess it was probably the best gift I ever received. Certainly in terms of longevity and returns! Apart from a few classical performances in my younger childhood, I started performing live in earnest at the age of 14. Playing in pubs with soul and blues bands. I think everyone in charge of my musical education thought I was treading a very dodgy path, but to me it was the most exciting thing that had ever happened in my short life. As far as writing and producing, that came much later and although I’d been toying with recording and writing throughout my twenties, it was only in my very late twenties that I had the courage to release my own music.
Perhaps contrary to the musical place I’ve ended up in, my early passions and influences were very much from American soul, jazz and blues culture. I had a singular obsession with James Brown in my mid teens. He epitomised the energy, vigour and positivity I felt from music at that time. It was through my love of him that I began to see the world, which drew me into music more and more as each day passed.

Some people experience intense emotion when listening to music, others see colours or shapes. What is your own listening experience like and how does it influence your approach to music?

For me, it is a place of symmetry and calm, even if the music is frenetic and fast. It is the one time when I switch off enough distractions to process my daily thoughts clearly. A bit like listening to the radio whilst driving a car. Something rather distracting is switched off with the driving and as a consequence your ears and mind really tune in. I think my personality sits in contradiction to the music that I make. I’m much more up-tempo, upbeat and jocular than my musical output would suggest. Perhaps music is the one thing I take seriously and the one place where I will allow a serious ‘conversation’ to occur. Even if it is just a sonic/audio language that I am speaking.

How would you describe your development as an artist in terms of interests and challenges, searching for a personal voice, as well as breakthroughs?

My interests outside music tend to be quite limited, as sad as that sounds! But where there is an interest, it is an intense one. Film would be a big one for me. European cinema in particular. That helps me in my search for a personal voice. In a way, because I never have vocals or lyrics in my music, that search is all the more important. I am, after all, trying to find a voice through my fingers. The joy of great film is it can suggest more abstract feelings in more subtle ways without words, much in the same way that instrumental music can. That tends to work best when the plot is secondary to the visual artistry. In the case of Peter Greenaway for instance. Or in a film like ‘Hard to be a God’ by Alexei German. When a breakthrough comes, it very quickly blossoms into a galaxy of its own. With its own rules and forces. That’s when the music I’m making starts to make sense and fulfil its purpose. Up to that point the landscape can be scarily bleak and featureless. The challenge is to get through that phase unscathed.

Tell me a bit about your sense of identity and how it influences both your preferences as a listener and your creativity as an artist, please.

Identity is not really something I think about. Is it one's sense of self? If so, how deep does it run? One can defend one's identity with one's life, or one can laugh it off as a meaningless notion. To me there is a kind of arrogance in thinking that one’s identity is anything other than a microscopic factor in this vast and unfathomable universe. However, if identity is defined as where I’m from and what makes me tick, I suppose I would say I’m a post war product of American influenced Western Europe who harbours a taste for Eastern European classical tradition; and I’m someone with a nostalgic yearning for the perceived beauty of the past whilst at the same time being motivated by a hunger and fascination for what is yet to come. And I think, in answer to your question, that reads how my music sounds!

What, would you say, are the key ideas behind your approach to music and art?

That music and art trump all; and that they hold the key to a set of universal rules. You can feel it when you play together with people. Whatever those rules or frequencies are, you tap into them.
I don’t believe in combining politics and music as I think that demeans what it is. If there is any ‘truth’ or ultimate answer, it lies in the simplicity of something like music. Something way beyond language. This is proven to me time and time again when I meet someone who’s culture and past are so far removed from my own and yet we instantly bond on a musical level. That surely has to tell us that human intervention and overthinking has the ability to get in the way of peace, harmony and communication. We over scrutinise, when just feeling what is around us is more than we will ever need.

How would you describe your views on topics like originality and innovation versus perfection and timelessness in music? Are you interested in a “music of the future” or “continuing a tradition”?

I’m into timelessness in music, for the aforementioned reasons. Universality of expression and sensibilities. But I also have a huge appetite for innovation and new music of the future. I think you have to have both. To close off to either renders you half the artist you should aspire to be. Whilst it is charming to see music of a traditional nature, if it is regarded as an absolute then by nature it closes off all the potential for new beauty. I strive for perfection, probably without hope of ever achieving it. But you can always learn from innovation and chaos. It is utterly pompous to claim that music cannot be found in any given place, via any given method.

Over the course of your development, what have been your most important instruments and tools - and what are the most promising strategies for working with them?

Piano is my long-term partner in all that I do. My ‘voice’ as it were. It represents humanity and the infinite in all the music I do. But for better or worse, I am permanently trying to fuse it with other entities. I have lifelong friends that I have picked up along the way, such as my 1973 Minimoog and most recently my Yamaha CS80 which I acquired from Tony Banks of Genesis. My tech friend James Kedwards, a 19 year old genius (and he really is!) fixed it for me and now I’m entirely in love with it. As far as strategies go, I only have a few general rules. When I play it, does it instantly make me enter a realm of creativity and happiness? Can I play an entire piece on it without interruption and without ever putting a foot wrong? Does it sound finished the moment I walk away from it? In the above cases that is true almost every time.