Infinity of Space blog 1 - the sight and sound of space

Instrumental music has enjoyed a long-standing relationship with the concept of space travel, as far back as Holst’s The Planets in 1914, Bebe Barron’s alien-sounding score to Forbidden Planet in the 1956 or even Joe Meek’s Telstar in 1962 and of course, the vast spectrum of progressive rock, space rock and instrumental electronic music that emerged in the 1970s.

In recent decades, despite there being no new space programme, mankind’s future in space – and how to get there – has remained an endless source of inspiration for artists, writers, filmmakers and musicians, myself included. But in this time, what many have turned to is a retro-futurism, recalling the excitement and ambition of the golden age of space travel during the 1960s and 70s.

Sometimes in order to look forward, you first need to look back. When I look at my own influences – both artistic and musical – they all emerged from that same, prolific and fruitful era.

In addition to this, I have always been fascinated with the notion of letting music create images in the mind and allowing my imagination to explore new environments through music – and I think we all need that escape. With no lyrics to distract or send the listener down a specific path, instrumental music works as a blank canvas for the imagination.

The images that we see in our mind’s eye are altogether different to when we are watching a concert or music video. While there's no denying the thrill and spectacle of a live show, our eyes and ears fight for attention, and sight usually wins. If you're watching something, then you're not always completely listening to it.

It is no coincidence that many of us like to close our eyes in order to fully enjoy and concentrate on music. Shut off the world outside and drift away. I have found that listening either in the dark or with eyes closed, an album or piece of music can take on a completely different mood to playing it in daylight or in the background.

When composing music with which to promote the Initiative for Interstellar Studies (i4is), a specific sound and atmosphere must be sought. What I want to achieve is music that encapsulates the concept of Space travel – from the construction of starships and their maiden voyage to the discovery of new worlds and galaxies – but that also reflects the ethos of i4is yet also leaving room for additional interpretation by the listener. Quite a challenge!

Composed and recorded throughout 2016, Infinity of Space is the title of my latest album project in association with i4is.

While there are no rules as to how such music should sound, I wanted to partly pay homage to the space rock of the 1970s through working with a guitarist on some tracks, for that classic instrumental rock sound, while others are more heavily electronic, exploring other-worldly atmospheres and textures.

Below is a first taste of the album, with a brief preview of the track, Absence (featuring Peter Rophone on guitar).

Infinity of Space is out now via Bandcamp:
https://thelightdreams.bandcamp.com/album/infinity-of-space

Leaving a Legacy

My first album of new material for this year is called Legacy. It is a project that came about very quickly – one of those instances when the ideas and creativity flowed almost effortlessly, and just kept on coming.

In fact, I had no plans to make anything new just yet, but as any artist, musician or writer (etc) will tell you, creativity is like an itch that just needs to be scratched – and I’ve been doing some serious scratching!

As I discussed in my two previous blog entries, the untimely loss of David Bowie has had quite a profound effect on me. Not only did I love every aspect of his music to the core, but I also learned so much from him as an artist. The day after that news broke, I found myself sat late at night with my thoughts, and I simply felt an urge to make music. No matter what the result, it was something I needed to do. So I fired up my Mac and plugged in the midi keyboard – and that was the starting point for when became Legacy.

And David has left an enormous legacy, one that will live on and inspire future generations. His music has never sounded more alive than it does right now, and my recent re-exploration of his work got me thinking about how his work has influenced my own music and my ways of thinking and working. Bowie always struck me as a very spontaneous artist, renowned for often nailing his vocals in the first take – and that spontaneity shows in the energy of his music. One of the many things I’ve always admired in his songs is the unique view of the world they instantly allow you to see – and that is what excites me about making (and listening to) instrumental music; there are no guiding lyrics, just the music for you to interpret as you wish. 

Some of David’s most emotive pieces include the haunting instrumentals from the Low and “Heroes” albums of his famed “Berlin” period of the late 70s. What fascinates me about those tracks is how textural and how organic they sound, despite being heavily electronic. That same organic feel can also be found on his largely under-valued albums of the mid-90s, The Buddha of Suburbia and 1.Outside – two of my personal favourites, and albums that sit perfectly alongside those Berlin albums. Sometimes the music is very simple, other times it is densely layered and complex, and I often find myself wanting to get inside those layers and really hear what its all made up from. I constantly strove to find a more textural and organic sound. To me, making instrumental music feels like building up a sonic landscape to explore – parts of it are carefully and intricately planned out, others are purely spontaneous. Sometimes the destination is clear, other times you find yourself in unexpected territory. David Bowie's music has not only been a soundtrack to my own life, but had it not been for his outlook and artistry, I may have never have felt the drive to try and make my own music.

Legacy is dedicated to David. In a way, it is my personal tribute and certainly the creative process was my own way of dealing with this loss. I found myself grappling with the same issues we all do when somebody we admire has left us – those supressed questions and thoughts bubble back up to the surface, and you find yourself looking backwards; longing for what’s been and gone. But this was just the starting point for the project – I certainly didn’t anticipate making an album’s worth of material.

But every project needs an origin, and once you have that starting point, you can explore all the places it leads you, as it takes shape and finds direction.

Much of the above may sound a little downbeat, and it has resulted in some reflective and nostalgic music. But I would prefer think of the music of Legacy to be more thought-provoking rather than gloomy in any way. Granted, it is very dark in places, but in contrast, it has its equal share of light and optimism. I also wanted to work very spontaneously, keeping most first takes and leaving that slightly raw feel. It can be so easy to lose that spontaneity and immediate mood or emotion through too much refining and polishing.

Most of all, what I wanted to achieve with this set of songs was a sense of journey and transformation – whether that is a journey into the future or a rummage back through the past, is up to the listener.

While I found myself revisiting some familiar motifs in the music, most of the sound palette on the album is fresh. Only on a couple of tracks did I allow myself the use some of my comfortable, trademark sounds – simply because they were the only ones that really worked. But one of the ‘rules’ I gave myself for Legacy was to work with a new soundscape where possible. Even something like a string sound – rather than going straight to ones I’d used previously, I’d look through new ones, or try something unexpected.

I can’t remember how the title came about. It may have been one of those moments when a particular word suddenly stands out from the page of a book or something, but “legacy” popped up and seemed absolutely perfect for the project.

Assigned with the regular duty of writing sleevenotes, my good friend Richard Hayes came up with some marvellous wording that not only encapsulates the underlying mood of the album, but that compliments the music and helps throw it open to interpretation:

Life is full of experiences.  From the everyday and mundane to the exceptional and life-changing, they mould and develop us to be what we are today.

Legacy is available now, via Bandcamp.
The full album download comes with a PDF booklet containing Richard Hayes' specially-penned sleeve notes.

New album: TIMESHIFT

Time flows around us.  It swirls and eddies through our lives, changing our view of what is happening around us every moment, of our memories of the past, and of our hopes for the future.  Nothing stays the same – there is perpetual movement and we may feel helpless in the midst of its flow.

This is an excerpt from the wonderful introduction written by Richard Hayes, for my new instrumental album, Timeshift.

When making an album I nearly always begin with a concept and a title, and work backwards from that. With Timeshift, this was not the case. I had started off composing some new music for the simple pleasure of making music, and from that, other tracks emerged. Soon I was on a roll. But there was no theme, at least back then. And there certainly wasn't an album title.

Themes gradually began to emerge as I produced more music, and one recurring mood was that of night. The images of rainy city streets, illuminated architecture and the way familiar scenes are transformed by the setting of the sun and the onset of night.

This is also the time when we dream, and our minds take us on unanticipated adventures as we visit worlds that we can only see through the medium of sleep. I've always found it fascinating how you can have a dream which lasts for hours or even days – complete with nights in between – yet you've actually had that dream in a matter of minutes.

In my mind, the moods and atmospheres of the music I was making reflected this, but also as the basis for a very Earth-based album, which looks at the passing of time and the general uncertainties you face in life. I've spent a lot of time making music with a space or science fiction concept, so at least for me, it was refreshing to make music that in my ears, felt at home when you're simply walking around town.

At the same time, instrumental music is not unlike an abstract painting, in that the music is open to interpretation, and you can make of it what you want.

As a synesthete, the colour of the music is ever at the forefront of my imagination, and this is often reflected in the album artwork. When making the album, I was seeing a lot of blacks and greens, with occasional shimmering gold. The album artwork came together very quickly – sometimes this is a lengthy process, and hard to get right. Other times, you get it right first time, which was the case here! Once the artwork was in place, I knew it would decide what it wanted to be called soon after. Within the last couple of weeks of mixing the album, the title Timeshift came about.

Now, it's over to you...

Timeshift is available via Bandcamp, priced £7. 
The full album download comes with a PDF booklet.

Sentient City – blog 2

The city – past, present and future – is an endless source of fascination for writers, artists and musicians alike.

It is a theme I’ve touched on in my music before. Back in 2006/7 I made a series of rough demos entitled Metropolis. Anybody who has followed my music for any length of time might remember these, as they were online briefly back then. In fairness, the ideas may have been there, but the music wasn’t! Although I did eventually include revamped versions of two of the better tracks on my After Hours compilation of early material. Maybe back then I wasn't ready to take on the subject. This time, I was ready to get lost in the crowd.

That said, I had no plans to make another album last year, but an interesting discussion with my friend Richard Hayes led to me thinking about how I would interpret the city theme today, but in a way that also left it open to interpretation and exploration. This was followed by some brainstorming, and from that emerged a series of intriguing titles as potential song starting points.

I had established a particular soundscape with last year's Traces album that I liked a lot and wanted to build on. In particular, one of the outtakes, Terrified, had started to take things in a slightly different, heavier direction which appealed to me and this became the starting point for the Sentient City soundscape.

The city is a world in itself. 

And as a creative theme, it brings together a crossover between a reality with which we can all relate, with fiction. While making the music, I’d often find myself thinking about the cinematic cityscapes depicted in films such as Dark City, The Fifth Element and Blade Runner or the literary urban underworlds of Haruki Murakami's books – but also of my own daily commute and observations of city life and the passing gleam of buildings old and new, and the way I’ve watched a skyline evolve and regenerate over time.

Its inevitable that we feel connected to our cities; the places we go, favourite spots, the bits we dislike, and a love/hate relationship with the transformations that occur. 

The city often feels like a living thing. 

Sentient…

Sentient City is available now via Bandcamp.

Oxygène... remastered

Jean Michel Jarre's pioneering album Oxygène has just been remastered and reissued along with half a dozen of his other albums. Anybody who has followed my work or read my website will already know my adoration for Jarre's music – without this album, I probably wouldn't have ever attempted making my own music.

Everybody has a particular album that they grew up with, and that had a particular influence or even life-changing effect – for me, Oxygène is one of those albums. It slots right into my creativity and way of thinking.

Although it doesn't cater for every taste, for me, it is one of those timeless, tireless albums. In a strange way it sounds both of its time and ahead of its time – at the same time! Though the album may be pushing 40, I still get the same excitement, inspiration and escapism from it as the first time I heard it in the early 1980s. The 2014 remaster comes with new liner notes and faithfully restored artwork (and a slightly bolder typeface if you want to be really picky!), but the music sounds as fresh as ever – in fact I even heard some bass notes that I'd never noticed before.

A feast for both the ears and imagination, there's an almost organic quality to the music through its evolving textures and atmospheres – hard to believe it was recorded on a mere eight tracks!

While Oxygène is the album that propelled Jarre to superstardom and defined an era of electronic music, it's easy to overlook the fact that it very nearly didn't get released at all.

In 1976, the 28-year-old Jarre's small Parisian apartment was a mass of analogue synthesisers, keyboards and drum machines, spilling through into his kitchen where an eight-track tape recorder would capture the burbles and swirls that would be part of the defining and distinctive sound of Oxygène.

Having composed and recorded this electronic opus of six movements all by himself, Jarre was repeatedly turned down by the French record labels on the grounds they could not market music with no vocals or that was not radio-friendly. French publisher Francis Dreyfus eventually saw potential in Jarre’s work and tentatively pressed 50,000 copies. Nobody was quite prepared for the global success of the album, that would go on to sell in excess of 15 million copies!

That little story in itself always inspires me - as it should inspire any musician or artist. When I listen to the album, although part of my mind wants to drift away with the sounds, I think about Jarre's struggle in 1970s Paris; surely one of the first home-based "D.I.Y" electronic musicians, of which I am now one, among countless others, thanks to the wonders of modern technology.

But this is the one album I always turn to when it comes to making music. The fact I can still gleam something new from it after hearing it thousands of times and that it still somehow drives me to make my own kind of music is something I'm constantly grateful for.

Following the Traces...

Today is release day - and Traces is finally out there!

I’ve said previously that when you’re composing an album, it takes on a life of it’s own. It evolves and goes off in directions you hadn’t originally anticipated. New ideas come in, old ones go out. Happy accidents happen. So it should be no surprise when I say that Traces isn’t quite the album I originally set out to make.

My original plan was to make a downbeat and minimal album; stripped of the dense layers and rhythms that had dominated my previous albums, creating something that was a lot more sparse and abstract.

But gradually the music evolved along with the ideas. 

When I produced the first version, it simply didn’t hang together well as an album. So I kept working on ideas, and over time it became more rhythmic and layered – but a very different soundscape to my previous works had started to form. I began to view it almost like a film soundtrack – it had actually become the soundtrack to some of the books I was reading over the course of the year, and in turn many of the themes of those books inspired the music, as the followed a similar theme to what I wanted to explore.

Another starting point was to make an album mostly using classic 80s and 90s synths. There’s been a lot of focus on analogue synths of the 70s and early 80s in the last few years, and while I absolutely love those vintage synths and get the appeal, a lot of the albums that had an impact on me in the late 80s and early 90s, used Korg’s digital synths – so to get my hands on some of those actual sounds was a real pleasure. This, combined with a different kind of approach to the drums and percussion, has given Traces a distinctive soundscape, perhaps with a nostalgic edge for those synth-geeks among us.

When I started the project, one particular word I had in mind for the mood of the music, was “reflective”. Despite the numerous changes the album went though, this still remained the dominant theme, but not in a depressing way – I’d prefer to think of it as thought provoking, and there is an underlying optimism that crept into many of the tracks. 

Although the finished album is very different to my original idea there still remains several short, sparse tracks. These are almost like segues or interludes, and retain the mood of my original idea.

I’ve realised that Traces is perhaps the album I’ve been working towards for many years. It’s also the most personal album I have ever made, in its own way.

Next time, I'll go into detail about some of the songs on the album and inspiration behind them.

Traces is available now via Bandcamp, as mp3 and CD & digital download bundle. The first copies of Traces on CD will come with a second disc, Traces: Abandoned, which contains 9 demos and outtakes from the making of the album.