Part 2
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?
It’s a kind of unconscious dialogue between what I’m hearing and what I’m thinking. I guess I’m dictating what’s worth exploring and yeah following where it leads me. However, the narrative or conceptual framework which the work fits within can change when put next to another piece, or even artwork.
Hitchcock has what he calls “pure cinema” influenced by the early Soviet filmmakers and montage theory. Where you can have a shot of someone smiling then a second shot of cake and it’s a pretty innocent scene. But when you change the shot of a cake to a gun, the scene changes completely.
What I’m saying is, I choose the shots, but I can’t control how it’s interpreted.
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?
That's pretty natural for me, having constantly evolving, even divergent ideas throughout the writing process. For me it just makes for a richer experience. I just try to stay open. I think this is only a problem when I have a specific brief to answer.
There was a project that required a more quiet ambient approach, but everything I was making was heavy and loud. I persisted, and eventually made something that was suitable for the project. And all the heavy material I used for a track on this Fragile States compilation.
The theme was something termed ‘conscious ambience’ which worked well with what I was going for.
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?
If given the time I can get sort of hyper focussed, where I'm not conscious of time at all. I’ll be quite OK to sit in the same spot for 8 or 9 hours (maybe more) working away. My wife will have to remind me to eat, drink water, take a break. It’s one of the few activities where I'm quiet and sitting still for a prolonged time.
I don't think that constitutes a spiritual experience. There's a great interview with Keiji Haino where he talks about what happens when he’s performing. He describes what he experiences as a desire to "not be here" and the only reason he comes back to reality is to feed his cat. That really resonated with me.
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?
As mentioned above, I don’t delete shit. And I’m quite happy reviving old sessions, even years later. So I’m actually constantly refining. Which isn’t always a good thing, I think you can over do it. I’ll do live takes and then tweak afterwards to avoid having something sound too rigid. Re-recording parts or doing overdubs if needed.
But generally I’ll spend all the time right up until I need to send it off making sure it’s what I’m after. In practice, it’s just me listening to the piece closely, adjusting the mix and listening some more, rinse and repeat.
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)?
Mixing is plays a huge role. I can totally have two different sounding songs using the exact same stems. Filtering plays a huge part of the production process as well. I’m essentially sampling myself for the majority of my work, so production is everything.
I’ve had my work mastered twice, once by Chuck for the Loopy Doopy piece and the second time by Lawrence [English] for the new record. And both times it’s been great having someone who I trust and admire apply their expertise to my work.
I will mention, their roles for both projects have been much more than just mastering. I’m incredibly grateful for their time and knowledge.
[Read our Lawrence English interview]
[Read our Lawrence English interview about sound]
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?
This isn’t something that happens with me. The last few releases have been made of material which I had been sitting on for a while. Also, I mentioned in the first question how I don’t ever feel satisfied. So I’m always working on the next project. There’s a constant need to better myself.
To be honest, the feeling after releasing something is that of relief. It’s finally out and I can finally concentrate and put more energy into the next thing.
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’s write-ups with every release that hopefully shed some light on my motivations behind the music. But I’m cool if people hear it differently. I’m mostly interested in creating interesting combinations of textures and rhythms.
Everything else is just cake decorations. Maybe someone might not like the decorations but everyone likes cake right?
Weird metaphor, sorry.
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?
I do love a great cup of coffee. I think I understand what this question is trying to ask. But I’m gonna twist it a bit.
There’s more to a cup of coffee than just the hot water and beans. Just as there is more to music than a selection of notes and chords. There have been coffees shared with friends where I’ve had long meaningful conversations. Coffees with my Mum in total silence, just enjoying each other's company. Coffee alone, mentally running through all the bullshit of the day ahead.
As much as music has unique properties, so do the mundane tasks of everyday. The beautiful thing is, you can listen to music whilst drinking coffee.



