I first began to work seriously with sound in the mid-seventies. I moved into
this medium from the disciplines of painting and printmaking. Sound had the
added attraction of unfolding over time.
Time is an important aspect in my work. There are references and connections
to time running throughout the body of my work from the first to the last.
Early influences included Can and Neu, Stockhausen and Cage. These gradually
gave way to the music that I was discovering myself which was more in line with
Eno and Hassell and extreme experimentalists like Throbbing Gristle and Test
Department.
I was a founder member of the band :zoviet*france: who are generally regarded
as amongst the pioneers of the post-industrial experimental genre and who have
influenced many more mainstream bands in the following years.
My own work has been noted as having a unique style and individuality and has
itself fed back into more mainstream genres in the form of commissioned sample
libraries, collaborations and re-mixes, and film and installation work.
As a continuing practitioner in the visual arts I do not draw a clear
distinction between the two mediums. The work in both areas is inter-related and
cross-referenced. This is perhaps best illustrated by referring to my earliest
releases, which were vinyl LP's encased in a succession of unlikely and
impractical "sleeves". This served at least two purposes; one being
to demonstrate that the "object" was equally as important as the
music contained in the medium. (These sleeves were all hand-made and hand-printed
on a variety of materials including hessian, hardboard, aluminum, roofing-felt,
ceramic boxes etc. and have since become collector's items as "art
objects".)
The second purpose derived exactly from the "punk" ethos of doing
it yourself and the "f*** you" attitude embodied within punk. (We
had been told that it was impossible to make these sleeves in any commercially
viable quantity and were determined to prove the critic's wrong.)
The third purpose, of course, was that it set our releases apart from the
norm.
Whenever possible I have carried this practice over into later works and
continued to place equal emphasis on the artwork included with a release and the
object itself, with CDs encased in specially designed, and often hand-made,
packaging. The purpose, once again, is to make something "special"
and to elevate it beyond the usual defining parameters. Subsequently they have
become objects of much greater significance to people than they would have been
had they been released in ordinary cardboard sleeves or crystal cases.
The definition of the genre that I work within is one that is also open to
interpretation. I think of my work as "soundtrack" music and as such
it remains open to the inclusion of whatever style I see as relevant. This also
allows me to include narrative occasionally e.g. "Tin of Drum"
includes narrative pieces written and performed by myself. These owe something
to David Lynch and Twin Peaks.
A visit to the real Twin Peaks during an American tour prompted me to later
write the pieces which were imaginary spoken statements given to the FBI
concerning the whereabouts of the narrators on a date some forty-five years
previously. The point being that this would be an almost impossible task, yet
all the people "interviewed" managed to give accounts of the day in
question. It didn't really matter if the stories were true or not, the
narrators were all glad to have been asked as it somehow gave some kind of
meaning to their lives.
This is reflected in the statements that they make which include details and
insights into their lives, as they judge them to be. In this case these
characters (like Becket's) judge their lives as essentially pointless and
filled with regret.
The "Tin of Drum" in the title is a reference to my own search
for some comfort whilst in a situation that at times seemed pointless and
wearisome. In the middle of an exhausting and demanding tour where I missed my
family and home my "happiness" devolved down to feeding my (then)
last remaining addiction - tobacco. After running out of the rolling tobacco
that I had brought with me from Europe I had been reduced to buying awful,
unsmokeable American blends and was growing more and more agitated and depressed.
Then at an unpromising gas stop I wandered into the small store and there alone
on the shelf behind the counter was a solitary tin of Drum rolling tobacco. (My
all-time favourite.) It suddenly became the Holy Grail of salvation; I could
almost see a blazing aura of light around it. My body jumped for joy and once
again I was confronted with the question "what do we seek from life"
and what makes us "happy".
We can search for truth and meaning and enlightenment yet seemingly "bliss"
can be attained with a hand-rolled cigarette of Dutch tobacco and a cup of
Italian espresso.
Reflections on the human need to attach some kind of "meaning" to
life could serve as one definition of what my work is about.
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