Monday, 16 May 2016

April 2015

It was common practice for me by this time to escape my box room in East Sheen and retire to coffee shops in central London – anywhere with a free plug socket.  I would end up wandering the city, working on the laptop, making abortive fragments that at time of writing have yet to find a home. 



I definitely feel there is a solo project forming, however.  
  • A disc of piano songs with voice and nothing else.  
  • A disc of tense, boxed-in laptop pieces.  
  • A disc of old stuff found on old hard disks that should have been cleared from the decks years ago.  
  • A series of extractions albums highlighting my production treatments on third-party records (not to mention shedding light on some of the virtuoso performances from the musicians I’ve been lucky to record with).
  • A disc of free-floating, found-sound, druggy ambience.  
  • And then disc of stuff from the here and now, using all that I have learned, summated into one true album of coherence, that draws together all the disciplines and lessons I have learned from my journeys with other people’s work over the last ten years.  Old plastic boxes plugged into pianos plugged into hallways plugged into the person I am now, rather than the one I was then, with guest cameos by guitarists I've worked with in the past.  Served on vinyl with a book of photos and handmade sleeve by Brian.
 

In mid-April, Future Loss reconvened for an even more successful session than last time; capturing a hypnotic, weird vibe that seemed to introduce a fresh idea to the group:  that the production treatments should take place live and in real time within the room…  with Brian and me taking care to fade in, modulate and then remove each texture with the same care as one might automate or mix the faders on a console when bouncing down the final mix.