A few weeks ago, I had the privilege of meeting a brilliant man named Pete Jones. I met him through my manager who has recently signed him on to White Knight Records.
Despite being blind, an ailment that can’t be truly comprehended by those who don’t have it, he has an incredible talent for playing guitar and keyboards, along with a cracking voice.
One thing that is pretty impressive is his ideasthesia to which he can relate touching objects to musical notes! (In the case of our meeting, the coffee table next to him was a middle C).
We discussed our love of Genesis, in particular, Selling England by the Pound as well as unconventional recording methods. I record with Logic and Pro-Tools and a very intrisacly detailed production process whereas Pete uses a 16 tape cassette and an Sm58 microphone! It sounds awesome too.
The thing I took most from our meeting though was his sheer joy at writing the music he wants to write. He was an X factor finalist on British television to which Sony, as a major label is susceptible to doing, treated him pretty mercilessly. That phase is past and his joy for music is now soaring and I’m proud to be involved in a musical community with him.
Here is a recent video of him performing a song called A visit to Chigwick. It is distinctively British, does not take itself seriously and will be a nostalgic trip for many who grew up in the 70’s.
When I was in Africa, I had the privilege of meeting a wonderful woman called Edith Wakumire. She lost her mother at six months old, with her Father left to fend for herself and her brothers and sisters. Seen as a disgrace to the eyes of the community, her father was murdered when she was aged twelve. Most orphans this age in Uganda are left with two options, be sold off into prostitution or married multiple times. Despite the horrific circumstances, she defied traditions under Idi Amin’s tyrannical rule, Edith sold coffee and bamboo so she could attend school from the age of 9. She also worked in teacher training in Kampala, and managed to further her training in Singapore before returning to her home to establish the Uganda Women Concern Ministry. An organisation that oversees the care of 11,000 affected by HIV AIDS as well as sponsor the education of orphans.
I have seen the work of the ministry first hand, widowed women given work by creating jewellery out of old magazines, some of which I bought for my family back home.
I have seen communities where every child, women and man will die of AIDS. Because of the ministry’s efforts, their passing is to be seen through as compassionately and respectfully as possible.
When I met Edith, she had a streak of joy in her eyes, ever faithful and ever believing in goodness.
Today is international women’s day.
We live in a world where each and every one of us owes our existence to women, yet equal pay, opportunities and respect remain an elusive to the vast amount of majority in the world.
May today and every continuous day be a step forward for humanity and the equality of women.
This year thus far has been an impeccable one for music thus far and yesterday is what I could call one of the most highly anticipated Monday’s of my life as I waited for the post man to deliver the deluxe edition of Steven Wilson’s new album Hand. Cannot. Erase.
Anyone who has heard of my work with Eden Shadow or has met me in person will be aware that I take a lot of influence from this artist. I grew up with Porcupine Tree and besides Dream Theater, Tool and Opeth; Wilson has been one of very few artists to carry the torch through the last two decades for a genre of music that was constantly pushing boundaries (deemed by many as prog).
Besides being an unusual artist emerging through the 90’s, it has become very clear to me why Wilson has now gained the deserved amount of success he has had with Porcupine Tree and now his solo career. Firstly, the guy is relentless and completely prolific in writing music every single day, continuously making records, he has failed at achieving what he’s wanted at times but he’s kept going. It took him 15 years before he gained any prevalent recognition for what he was doing when PT released In Absentia, and every time he has faced success, he is adamant in ensuring that he does not repeat himself. Secondly, his attention to detail at times is astounding, you take many of his records, and the way in which they’re presented both sonically and in it’s packaging is remarkable, leading to a unique and immersive experience. Finally and what i would argue to be most important point is the context of his music. I have heard so much music from this scene, which is completely contrived and says so little that I would say even though most of my time is dedicated to writing progressive rock music, I avoid listening to most of it! The older I get, the more I realise what makes music work for me is how much I see of myself in it, which is when people ask me what my favourite records, I’ll say something like Vespertine by Bjork because it is a complete reflection of my introverted self. Wilson has more and more through the years delivered albums where he has had something to say. Music is a language after all. He is also one of very few artists who, low and behold, can actually be articulate in an interview, listen to to a question and say something insightful.
In terms of having something to say, and a mirror to hold up, after listening to Hand. Cannot. Erase. for the first time, I regard this album as one of the most relevant to me he has yet written. The album concept in brief is this,
“The story of Hand.Cannot.Erase. is a about a girl who grows up, moves to the city and begins to erase herself”
This is loosely based on the disappearance of Joyce Carol Vincent, who was a young woman, had a family, had friends but erased herself from everyone around her, died in her apartment and wasn’t discovered for three years. That is an incredibly macabre subject matter, but it holds a lot of pathos about modern day life in the city, and I have experienced this myself! I moved from the Welsh countryside to my student town, just outside London, and there were times when I was in London on my own and I felt completely isolated from the millions of people around me.
It’s not just the idea of being able to isolate yourself in a metropolis that is explored in this album, it’s also the impact that social media has had on my generation in particular and the fact there are people who can loose themselves in social media and video games where they do not walk outside their front doors for days on end. I am all to aware of the benefits of social media, but I share some ambivalence about it. More so than anything else, I use social media to share ideas, to share my thoughts, my music as well as other people’s idea and works but all too often, people who are using social media for those purposes are contending with a mass volume of trivial noise of people portraying their lives in a way that is faux. The lyrics from ‘Home Invasion’ seriously hit home.
Download sex and download God. Download the funds to meet the cost. Download a dream home and a wife. Download the ocean and the sky.
Another day of life has passed me by. But I have lost all faith in what’s outside. They only are the stars across the sky And the wreckage of the night.
Download love and download war. Download the shit you didn’t want. Download the things that make you MAD. Download the life you wish you had.
I’ll save describing the music or concepts any further, but in my humble opinion, this album is again an incredible achievement and I look forward to seeing it live. For more context, here’s a great interview.
The more I lead this utterly crazy life of creating music, the more I realise that for the most part, your best ideas will come at completely inconvenient times and that you have just got to deal with it.
I cycle across the west coast of Wales, between Cardigan and Abaraeron. A musical phrase enters my head, syncopated and an odd time feel, my head continuously runs through the idea as my legs keep pedalling. I have another 400 miles and five days of cycling before I can lay my hands onto a guitar to process that idea. Besides the delirium of burning 9000 calories a day and cycling almost the entire perimeter of Wales, this idea ceases to leave my head.
I queue up for a coffee in my student town, an opening of a song comes in my head, and I frantically write it into the notes of my phone before I order a cappuccino, to which the caffeine adds to more frantic stream of ideas that are trying to pass through somewhere other than my neurological system.
A three-hour train journey, and yet another musical phrase sets itself in my brain and is wishing to be unleashed. Fortunately, I was savvy enough to take manuscript with me on my venture but alas, a baby persistently cries within the carriage and I must persist through the piercing sound frequencies that imperatively grasps the attention from a child’s parents and forge my own frequencies that are trying to express something entirely different.
And finally I have the time to sit down and pursue these ideas in my studio space when all of a sudden a light bulb sparks itself in my head and says ‘Hello there! I am a bright new idea…I’m all sparkly and stuff’ and I retort by saying ‘Go away, I’m busy, could you have just waited a week or two?’ (I could do with a cup of tea; shall I opt for the smokiness of Lapsang Souchong or the lemon zestiness of Earl grey??? Oh, that reminds me, I haven’t eaten for nearly 24 hours as I have been too busy mixing!)
As I venture through this creative wonderland, excited yet perturbed, happy yet miserable (***The Tortured artist may well be NOT a myth, we are indeed pitiful souls…read all about it http://www.huffingtonpost.com/christopher-zara/tortured-artists_b_1605509.html). I shall eventually create such a bizarre catalogue of music that most ordinary people will deem it the product of a crazed loony toon, and suitably conclude that it will fit in none other vicinity than Willy Wonka’s Chocalate Factory, only kept alive by loyal audience members that somehow see them isolated and estranged selves within this bohemian mirror.
Maybe one day, it will all subside and the endless lament of writer’s block shall instead vex me, and I shall disappear for five years (maybe grow a vineyard, or venture into carpentry, or buy a yacht). Then one day, inspiration will once strike me again, and I shall scheme a remarkable return to which I will alienate everyone by releasing my equivalent of Radiohead’s Tree Fingers.
An old lady dies of Multiple sclerosis in her late eighties. The funeral has an attendance of about forty people. The eldest daughter sits with her immediate family at the other side of the pub at the after party, as she is too disgusted to speak to most of her relatives who have not seen the lady in years and have attended the funeral as a formality.
A man in his late twenties receives a phone call from his father, who he has not spoken to in years after an argument. The father reveals he has terminal cancer and has about six months to live. They cannot remember what the argument was about.
A son of an elderly mother only contacts her when he is in need of anything or only when it is a special occasion such as Christmas.
‘Only tragedy allows the release of love and grief, never normally seen’ – Kate Bush, All the Love, The Dreaming (1982)
Kate Bush really made an astute observation in the above lyric. The more I think about those words, the more I realise that it is entirely common for friends, family, relatives just drift away in time, and not see each other for years, or at least interact with them in a way that involves love.
The above three scenarios are all things I have observed from a close outer perspective and I have seen the anguish and regret that has been involved in all of them. It has taught me such a strong lesson to not let tragedy dictate the love you should express for those around you, because when tragedy strikes, it is almost always too late.
I am a graduate twenty-something with the blessing of still having a lot of my close but elder relatives around. As I have moved closer to my family, I am making sure that I spend time with all of them as best as I can.
I will re-iterate something, someone said to me with the most urgent conviction…it truly has stayed with me since.
I have spent the last 8 months embarking on a jazz album. I’ll be the first to admit, I am by no means a straight out jazzer, I walked out of a college open day for a four year jazz course concluding that there was simply too much rock and roll in me. (Which is probably why I ended up in the art rock world!)
The elusive element about jazz is that it is a language of it’s own within the musical world, something where freedom and chaos reigns hand in hand with knowledge and sophistication. The one thing I’ve discovered over the course of playing solos over jazz standards or anything for that matter is how inherently powerful singing is and how it can improve your improvisation.
Especially from a guitarist’s point of view; the guitar is a wonderfully convenient instrument when it comes to shape and scales but the negative factor of that is that the mechanical process of playing the instrument can leave the player in a state disregard for the other essential two points of the triangle, the theoretical and the musical. I’ve lost count of how many times I have seen players who’s improvisation has been dictated by their fingers…myself included!
The beautiful thing about singing is that it comes straight from your heart and mind, without any preconceptions: it is immediate. I’ve linked a track that I have played on below and I think out of the entire selection of jazz recordings it is my strongest because I sang every phrase that I played before playing it. It takes a lot of practice but it’s worth it. So if any guitarists out there feel like they are caught stuck in making a fine solo, besides doing the practice, try singing, you may well surprise yourself!
‘There is no point trying to go for you dreams in your life because you are only setting yourself up for disappointment’
For whatever reason, that quote looks as pessimistic as when you read it but is surprisingly passive when said, and I’ve been really surprised by how many times it has been said by young people to me in the last few months.
I’ll admit it, I’m extremely lucky. I have only met a handful of people who found their calling as young as me. As soon as I picked up the guitar at 8 years old, it intrinsically defined me. Therefore I am not very good at empathising with people who have yet to find their passions, and in the past, I have come across as insensitive on this subject. So to make amends to that, I want to at least attempt to offer encouragement by flipping that quote on it’s head.
First of all, when you attempt to go for anything you dream of doing, you are by default setting yourself up for disappointment; but is that truly the only thing your setting yourself up for? Perhaps you are setting yourself up for finding something you have a natural disposition for, or enjoy doing it regardless of your ability, or gaining a load of lessons and knowledge in the process. It’s been said so many times before, but you never know before you try.
Success is a concept that has been held on such a pedestal in society, that it continuously halts aspiring racers to run even before the gun has been fired. The anticipation of failure, the premonition that you won’t succeed is actually more difficult to overcome than failing itself. Well here’s an open secret, happiness in pursuing something is not defined by its success or failures, it’s by the process.
When a child picks up the guitar and becomes so much in awe of the strings and the potential of the instrument, do you think that he or she is thinking about success or having approval when playing the thing? The concept of failure or success is a conditioning that is imposed later on. That’s not to say that when I make records, I don’t want to share them with as many people as possible, but regardless of whether I sell 100 or 100,000 records, I won’t ever stop because I love it too much. There have been times where I have experienced disappointment, felt completely inadequate and failed miserably, but it’s times like that where I trace back and remind myself of the first experiences I had of picking up the instrument. Along with all the inevitable neuroticism and negativity one can experience at times in the creative process, I’ll always believe the following quote that Rick Wakeman once said.
‘Success is found in a garden of failure.’
I have indeed set myself up for disappointment, but I have a heck of a good time!
I love cycling, absolutely love it. It is one of the most leisurely things I do on a weekly basis where I do not think about anything else, along with surfing and running. I also am beginning to drive more and enjoy that too, but the more time I spend out on the road on either form of transport, the more I realise that throughout the UK, a majority of people on the road think that the rules are for everyone but themselves.
I cannot believe the amount of times I have cycled on a main road and people in cars have passed me driving whilst speaking on their phones. I once had to make a right turn where a car driving the other way was slowing down, I was unsure as to what he was doing and needed to be careful in order to make the right turn whilst indicating to the car behind me so I take a few seconds to ensure it’s eventually safe to turn right, the car behind me tries to drive on and nearly precedes to crash into me, just so it happens, he was on the phone.
Whilst being behind the wheel of a car, there have been times where cyclists have made utterly moronic and dangerous decisions too. I recently saw a cyclist cut across a three way junction, whilst traffic lights were given the go ahead for ongoing traffic. All in all, trying to give more blame to the other is completely fruitless, and each incident is judged upon for it’s own accountabilities.
I want to be as reconciliatory to both forms as much as I can, the highway laws are out there to accommodate for the two, but more often than not there is unnecessary conflict between the two parties where rage and impatience is blown beyond any sensibility. It was so tragic to read about the deaths of cyclists in London throughout last year and a there’s been recently reported feud between a cyclist and a motorist, where the latter kicked the former in the face so hard that he ended up partially blind and the driver ended up in prison himself for five years. Submitting to that rage, a few seconds of madness and that’s both lives majorly changed.
So here is the conclusion, a very simple one…whilst we are out there on the road, we need to be completely aware, considerate and sensible. It’s simple, but unfortunately, in practice, it is disregarded time and time again.
Is it really worth the risk of speaking to phone whilst driving, or cutting across red traffic lights while cycling or unnecessarily overtaking someone to cause danger just for the sake of saving a few seconds? Ask yourself these questions, because when it comes to an occurring tragedy, hindsight has its virtues, but prevention isn’t one of them.
What a truly liberating and enjoyable experience this has been. After a week of accepting the challenge of writing an article every day and shipping out, I feel like I can actually do it, and that there is very little out there stopping me.
After just a week of writing, I have connected with the words of fellow writers across the globe, people have engaged with my own writing and it’s been amazing to see that there’s been this universal process of everyone wanting to express themselves.
Expressing yourself should be a normal thing, but it can be so difficult for some of us because we are held back by what other people think. By writing, we can disregard the latter, because we have created our own space where our writing is addressed to draw our perspective in a way that is complete and considered.
Furthermore, by writing, I am more focused in other areas of my life, my work, my leisure, my mind feels like it has been freed of something each time I write an article.
So my metaphorical hat off to Winnie Kao and Seth Godin for proposing such a marvellous idea. They have truly built a tidal swing of momentum, and I’ll be writing a lot more consistently from now on.
A Man stands in a city street; banging the top of a litter bin whilst chanting in a Rastafarian fashion ‘This town is great!’
In another town, a man in his 50’s regularly attends a nightclub where the music is blasting out; he sits in solitude and reads a novel, whilst men flirt with girls who dance in unflattering dresses.
In a coastal-based town, another man attends theatre shows on multiple occasions, on his own: all who work there understands his passion for an alternate reality as he soaks up the atmosphere inside the auditorium.
As I stand outside a students union with my friend, he points to an oak tree that has been paved around by the side of the road, and observes how it has been there before any of this concrete existed.
A councillor I meet for the first time at a pub explains to me the pride he holds in his job and that because of his duty, people can walk home safe at night, but laments at how nobody appreciates it.
Then all of a sudden, after reading short stories of an author during the day, it came to my mind whilst talking to this man to ask myself, ‘What would Chekov make of this guy?’
I really surprised myself that I asked such a question, but it really aided me in observing what this intelligent man was saying and why he was saying it. My thoughts before were that councillors are generally inept at their job, but here I am standing opposite one of them, having one of the most insightful conversations I had had in the past few months.
The reason I asked that question though albeit subconsciously is because of one simple reason, I decided to invest my time reading and exploring the minds of brilliant artists and writers who observe things that others don’t see, in an attempt to do the same things myself.
Every day, it is easy for us humans to become trapped in our own bubble, riddled with pride, entertaining our minds with trivial nonsense and be hasty to assume and judge others. I think it is important to get in the habit of forcing ourselves at least once a day to shift the looking glass so that we can observe something or someone without our judgement, preconceptions or non-confirmation bias.
Each town, city and village has its quirks, it’s charms and it’s repulsions, but the people there are what make it. It has come to truly fascinate me how the aesthetic of each town is built by such intricate details and characters. The people described above may appear to most as crazy, but in reality they are no different than the rest of us in what makes us human. The more I explore the minds of great writers such as Chekov, the more I realise for myself that life truly is a wondrous thing.
I sit in a café, looking out the window as people pass by rushing to and from places. The clouds gather and a heavy rainfall starts for a brief spell and then subsides to a ray of sunlight. For ten seconds…the street is clear and there is strange but peaceful stillness.
Ryan Mark Elliott Music 