Our second EP for 23 Seconds and we're particularly proud of
it. This collection features some of our finest songs, and
sonically there's a very psychedelic bluesy vibe going on. It was
the first thing recorded on our new digital multitracker, and the
mastering's better than on previous releases too. The cover shot
was taken by Caroline Vile, on a freezing afternoon in snowy
London.Some thoughts about the recording and mixing process. All of the tracks
were written in 2010, well pretty much; "Enlightenment" started as a
single phrase a few months earlier but was completed on Sunday 10th
January in the dark. It stems from a plan to write a sci-fi themed EP;
what better sci-fi to write about than Doctor Who,
and what story more suited to songform than Peter Davison's
"Enlightenment"? The sci-fi idea is still percolating; expect more in
the coming year. It's only a gentle thematic reference; the rest of the
lyric a playing-around with amateur astronomical themes. The Sky At Night is
a great programme. Can't believe I didn't latch on sooner. The last bit
recorded was Luke's flute solo, with its triple trill finale.
We
shoot forward to a transitional piece, "All I Never Wanted". We
reckoned a little mood-shifter was necessary, and Bob's zither and
cymbals did the rest. I think a collection of library music would be a
good diversion for us, freed of the tyranny of lyrical narrative. You
may beg to differ. Our long-suffering mixing program, Jeskola's Buzz
(why am I writing that? It's the mixer, i.e. me, who suffers,
bent-backed at the desk for hours trying to alchemise whilst everyone
sleeps off their curry... woe, woe, woe) ...features a fabulous reverb
plugin, Sonic Verb, crafted to resemble a pricey reverb of the early
00s, and which features on all the tracks on the EP. Here it's cranked
up. I love the shiver-down-the-spine of the zither. Not sure if we can
replicate it now Bob's bought a tuning key.
Have you ever hated
your boss? Ah, but have you ever committed those thoughts to wax? Nor
have we, but we did use our new-ish Korg D888 digital multitracker on
this collection, and one of its first wriggling specimens was Bob's
"Below The Waves" (Song For A Bastard Boss). A bluesy belch of bile, its
instrumental break sees several badly-played quiet guitars going
through a dozen effects boxes. I'm enjoying playing slide guitar these
days. But oh! the luxury of recording the basic band track in the same
room at the same time, with multiple mics on the drums.
Sex
tourism is go! "Abysinnia Next Week" began life as another song of Bob's
called "White Darth Vader"; I picked out the underlying filth in its
semi-nonsense lyrics and added some suitable lines. (The original
synthpop version is still to come, on another EP, someday...) The
backing track was mostly recorded in Exmouth at Luke's mum's house,
where there is a great selection of recorders. Freak, man!
After
all that rampancy, you need a comedown, and here we have "Fly By
Night". It has something to do with being persuaded to volunteer at an adults'
charity ball, and having a miserable time. Rigsby comes to mind: "The
permissive society? It doesn't exist. And I should know - I've looked
for it". But of course, it needs to be looking for you.
Listen out for a fierce and wonky guitar solo (ha!) and a fierce and
wonky melodica (double ha!). This was the last thing recorded for the
EP - we kept it standing around in the corner until December wearing
only a simile.
"Wafternoon" also hung around for a little while,
until its silly lyric had infused through the music properly. It was
prompted by a wobbly moment on the south coast. The middle section
features two kazoos (never underestimate the kazoo), woozy slide from
Luke and a kitschy keyboard solo by myself.
It's reverb to 11 on
the penultimate track, a riot of stereo percussion which includes coins
spun on drum heads, a wind-up plastic robot, a wooden metronome, wall
chimes, and a metal Beatles wall sign struck like a gong. It's named in
honour of the daft comedian Marty Feldman, and nearly had the suffix
"Emergency Ambulance". Imagine a fierce storm in an English village,
trees coming down in people's gardens, slates sliding off roofs, and
Marty riding through the sheeting rain, perhaps wiping the windscreen
with a hanky when the wipers get stuck.
We end the EP in solemn
territory. Having first heard it after perusing Elena Filatova's
Chernobyl photos, "Son of a Systems Engineer Manager" conveys such an
air of weary resignation, that it's quite possible to believe Luke went
and sabotaged a power station the following day. The protagonist's hopes
are allowed to pick up briefly in the psychedelic middle 8, before
coming back to the present with a distorted klaxon (having dozed off on
the night shift?). You may be amused to note the rumblings over the
final minute are provided by my washing machine, which just happened to
go onto its spin cycle at the right moment. Who needs BBC Sound Effects
CDs?