30/December 2006
Greetings.
I'm now back from a modestly sustained period of touring in
the UK and Europe. An interesting mix...some shows with
Stuart, some solo.
Now the end of the year is rushing up and more new stuff is
on ther horizon.
My latest solo record has just been released. Titled
"Singularity", it's available from Sofa Sound, discerning
record stores (those that survive) and, indeed, various
download shops on the Web, including iTunes.
Most of this newsletter is taken up with relating the
background to its recording; it will be clear that I was a
man on a mission....
In the meantime and until later, as ever, thanks for
listening.
PETER HAMMILL
...but not from scratch.
When I came to begin the recording of the latest solo album
it was in full awareness of how much things had changed for
me in the last couple of years. Significantly, of course,
this was the first time that I was going into recording
sessions since my heart attack in 2003. In so far as there's
an ongoing thread running through all my work it's surely
that I make an effort to document some of the passages of
life through which most of us go as I experience and observe
them. I could hardly fail, then, to address the extreme
intimation of mortality that my cardiac episode brought me.
I can't really recommend a skirt quite so close to the final
curtain as this life episode in which to seek out
experience, but if, as and when it comes it certainly sets
one thinking...and in my case gave me considerable things to
consider and write about.
Equally significantly I was going into this work on the back
of the VdGG reunion. Of course this had been an immensely
enjoyable and uplifting event in a musical sense throughout.
As a human experience it was similarly elevating in its
first period: the warmth and enthusiasm we felt on having
the chance to re-enter this strange arena was genuinely
delightful. By the end, though, much had gone sour on a
human scale and for the last weeks of the year I felt
drained in mind, body and spirit. Once January came, though,
Guy, Hugh and I determined that there would be a continuing
future for a trio VdGG and this was a great lift in spirits
for all of us; in turn, therefore, it also became clear that
whatever I was going to do in solo work had to steer well
away from the band's territory - whatever that may turn out
to be.
As if the VdGG reunion - and its fallout - was not enough to
trigger thoughts of work in the past and the present I had
also recently remastered the albums "Fireships" and "Enter
k", to both of which there are significant back stories. As
2006 wound on I was also to take on the responsibility of
remastering the whole of the Virgin solo catalogue - all of
my earliest solo records. I hadn't listened to many of these
recordings for years and of course doing so brought memories
of the times flooding back as well as of the technical and
stylistic paths I trod then and which have led me to where I
am today were also laid bare before me.
In sum, then, I felt I could not simply stumble into the
making of "another" PH solo record. (Not that I ever go into
recording with that kind of attitude, to be honest!) Equally
- especially considering the nature of these recent events -
it was clear that I needed to continue working and reacting
both instinctively and with a measure of cool consideration
if what was to emerge were to be consistent with the
ever-unstated Hammill Way. In short, to be, in my eyes at
least, any good, of any interest; additionally, with some
level of awareness of my own history and of the path I've
taken - often unconsciously - in getting here.
From an early stage I was keen to make this an absolutely
solo record. This idea was reinforced as I worked on the
Charisma solo remasters; the spirit of many of the early
recordings had often been one of solo labour, even if other
musicians contributed parts at later stages. I should,
though, say that I didn't start the remastering of the
Virgin stuff until I was well advanced on the new
recordings, so some of these ideas were evidently already in
place by then. Perhaps I was already being drawn towards
this approach from the outset. As is often the case, I began
to find out what I was trying to do in the course of
practically doing it.
I was also keen to find some new wrinkles in my musical
landscape. Even after all these years and all these songs I
still hope to find something unexpected rather than simply
retread old paths. Naturally by now I have various stylistic
traits which are both signature and pattern and to a certain
extent the creation of newness depends upon combining these
in different shapes rather than commencing from a tabula
rasa. This time I wanted to go a little further towards the
(familiarly?) strange, encouraged, perhaps, by the spirit of
adventure (albeit one balanced by a huge lack of experience)
which inhabited many of my early works. At the same time, I
was keen to remain in touch with the fundamental and abiding
principles of The Song, which, naturally, remains my central
concern in all its beguiling complexity. I'm not saying that
I was trying to do a "Chameleon", a "Future Now", an "In
Camera" - those were then and I was that me, it's impossible
(and, in fact, undesirable) to go back and unlearn all
that's passed since. I did, though, want things to be a bit
more rough and ready, in contrast to the bulk of my recent
recordings in which, partly thanks to modern technology,
there's been a tendency to buff and polish. I made a
conscious decision *not* to overdo things, to take decisions
and to stick with them.
So...the instrumental texture of the recordings is
comparatively simple, though the styles of the nine pieces
are wildly different one from the other; again, this mirrors
the make-up of earlier rather than later albums. About half
the songs are based round a core of acoustic guitar or
piano..."traditional" songs, one might say. At various times
in the course of the recording things veer towards musique
concrete and, elsewhere, to the sound of something
approaching a band. So it's not a solo singer-songwriter
effort, exactly. There's a fair bit of electric guitar, some
of it at the whacky end of the scale; it's here,
particularly, that I've been leaning towards the instinctive
element. Of course everyone knows that I'm some blistering
runs shy of being an Axe God (!)...but in my own modest
Rhythm Gtr way I do think I've something to say on those
buzzy frets. As a first, there's even a spot of whistling on
the record
Well, heigh ho, describing the music is like trying to
explain the smell of cheese, really, isn't it? All I can say
is that I think I've come up with some new musical stuff
this time. Some moments of (apparent) calm and some bolts
from the blue.... But as ever by now I know too much and too
little about the content to be able to make absolutely
objective comment.
As always, I'm somewhat reluctant to make the slightest move
towards exposition or explanation of the lyrics at this
stage. They'll go up on the site after a decent interval
from release date, of course. In general, though, I suppose
I can say that most of these songs are Cautionary Tales.
Intimations of mortality are present in almost every line,
as one might expect from the experiences of the past couple
of years. Some of these are direct and personal
representations, some observational; most of the pictures
are drawn direct from life. I hope that all are infused with
a positive spirit rather than one of denial and negativity.
It's true that some of these songs are looking at the dark
side of things; but not looking wouldn't make that side
cease to exist. You'll find, too, a fair degree of
admonition in places here and certainly some of this is
addressed externally; but as usual much is meant for and
directed back at myself. That's a duality that's been
present in my stuff from years back, as I'm sure you'll be
aware. Incidentally, some of the Vox techniques are, I
think, quite innovative....
I should say something about the title and stuff associated
with it. "Singularity" is a term which has sprouted odd
meanings by the score over the last few years, some of them
too modish for words. For me it has two principal meanings:
in the personal, idiosyncratic, unusual; in the scientific,
a Black Hole. A third definition is also of interest, the
mathematical - but let's not (perhaps) go there as it's
where all the rules break down. A couple of lyrics here
refer, albeit fleetingly, to quantum theory and to black
holes and in the end the title itself became a singular
candidate.
For I was singular. I lay on my back, post-heart attack,
conscious of the fact that I needed to i) stay awake when
awake and ii) rest, absolutely, when not awake; figuratively
aware of hovering just outside the final gravity of a Drop.
I didn't drop, so I don't know if that's how it will feel in
the end, if I'm granted (or cursed with) consciousness at
the (my personal) finish. I certainly had the feeling that
waiting for me in those moments when the chances of my life
continuing depended on coins spinning in the air was some
kind of black hole, some vortex which would not release me
if I went too far into its grasp. I've tried to express some
of those feelings here. This much, at least, is a report
from the front line of experience.
Yes, it's a serious set of recordings. As always, I won't be
able to get any decent sense of perspective on them for some
time to come; however, I believe that I have put down a
marker in terms of my work both for what is (I hope) going
to come and to differentiate it from what has gone before. I
believe this is strong and substantial stuff. For what it's
worth - not that this is necessarily any kind of
recommendation - I don't think anyone else is working in
this territory. Which is also to say, I've no idea what kind
of music this is, except that it's of a kind which makes
sense to me....
Of course the other major news at present is the continuing
and ongoing story of VdGG. As has been previously announced
we will be continuing to do more stuff in 2007 as the trio
of Banton, Evans, Hammill. Our first shows will be in April,
including several dates in Germany and the UK and
culminating in a London Barbican concert on 16th. We will
certainly be playing new material as well as old and the
prospects are most exciting, even if there's a degree of
trepidation involved. Further shows and recording should
follow later in the year.
The CD of the RFH reunion concert and the DVD of the
Leverkusen show, marking the opening and closing of the last
chapter in the VdGG story are *still*, I'm afraid, on the
drawing board rather than in the shops. This is a source of
great frustration. We still hope, though, that they'll be
out early in 2007, particularly as we'd like to put what is
past definitively to bed and behind us before we head into
the future. More serious fun, yes, please! On, the unknown,
the uncertain...next!