Natural Influence, Natural Beauty

Picture taken (by my brother) on a walk near my house in Devon

An interesting article about a new study into Birdsong had caught my interest, undertaken by Aberdeen University and brought to public attention by the BBC (click here if you want to read it). It brings to light, although perhaps in a over-scrutised, scientific way, the affect natural sounds have on the human psyche. How much influence do we gather from the "everyday"sounds that surround us? It's already obvious that some composers and artists draw directly from nature. The French composer Berio, writing mainly in the early half of the 20th Century, would go out on walks with his analog tape recorder and document birdsong. He'd record over separate seasons and during different times of day. These samples would then be transcribed to notational score by Berio himself. Entire symphonic pieces were written based totally around the melodic birdcalls, adapted in its rythmically abstract form. Even modern music references the sounds of nature. Bands such as British Sea Power and The Animal Collective use actual recorded birdsong, wind russling in the trees, even going to such lengths as to record themselves physically outside. We have The Animal Collective to thank for that in particular. Playing your own music in the middle of an open field must be a beautifully strange and humbling experience. Also, it's impossible for me to forget the soft, reassuring waves that close Alone in Kyoto by Air. Could it be some type of nostalgia, or simply accessing the indescribable connection we have with our our world. Of course, whats more interesting is how we are influenced subliminally by nature. The idea that these sounds creep into our art without us realising it is intruiging, if not inspirational in itself. I'm probably going off on one here but it's almost like a study of the etimology of our musical system and understanding. The origin of our cry of unique animal expression.
Living in a city my ears are perpetually swarmed by background noise, the sounds of the traffic, the murmur of the crounds pushing through the high street in mad consumer frenzy. Surely, this subconciously manifests itself in my music. Could I be writing under a mood that comes from urban living? It's certainly fair to say setting has its affect on the artist, and ultimately on the art. Would Gustov Mahler been able to create that grand, expressive 9th Symphony without the seclusion of his back garden hut? Where would Beethoven's 6th "Pastoral" Symphony be without his walks in the Austrian countryside? Those Romantics got seriously obssesive about using nature as sublime inspiration. Maybe this study will answer these questions, probably not. Either way, it's important for an artisit to consider his influences and, possibly at the same time, gaze at the sky though his window.

05/11/07 - 65 Days of Zodiac

My anticipation for the gig was almost non existant. I'd seen 65 Days of Static before, in the same place but a few years ago. Whats changed since then is really the release of only one album: The Distruction of Small Ideas. Their reputation is noticably more intense, apparently there is much more talk around the campfire. Unfortunetly their sound, being very much their own, hasn't gone through any evolution at all. Still they retain their original style and their musical structure; the climax and resolve, heavy mash of guitar effects and extensive jams, full expression and musical narrative. Shoegaze, it seems, has taken a more epic turn into darker dimentions. Its experience is something like standing in a Boeing 747 jet engine or perhaps the sound that would eminate from the collapse of our sun; and in all this, it is the sound of the apocalypse. Dramatic, dark and overpowering; at times, out of control and disturbing. To dance or be involved in any way at a 65 Days of Static gig is almost impossible, I am literally nailed into place and lost in a deep-green ocean of sound. All we can do is hold fast and hope they make it through alive. I can't remember where the tracks begin or end, I'm left with only the experience, naked in the void. As one critic of My Bloody Valentine wrote "I cant really remember what they played, just that it was fucking loud". A few reconisable tracks however, like floodlights would loom out of the bombardment. The wave of distortion is sometimes broken by only by that of a lonely piano, arpeggiating by itself and leading the music into softer currents. Minutes lead into fucked-up electronics including heavy, distorted drums and chaotical abstract synths. The way these sections merge with each other is almost perfect, seemless even. They fit the phrase "a beautiful noise" in every way.
My only actual criticism that I've had to scrape for is their apparent lack of change. They've always been experimental just along too specific an angle. Two years have passed since I saw them last, the lasting effect is all very much the same however awe inspiring it is. Consideration of new horizons is required for them, if they are to continue. Also, their backing guitarist and keyboard player began to piss me off, and I really dont know why. There was an ellement of the nu-metal self loving cock about him, maybe... thats just me. One thing is certain however, 65 Days of Static are a band to see live. I've hardly listened to their albums, they just don't live up to their gigs.

It would be criminal for me to forget to mention the one support band I saw. Due to turning up late I missed the first. Asobi Seksu, an electro pop group from Booklyn's new wave, played an amazing series of tunes - sticking in with the evenings shoegaze genre, and lead by a small japanese girl with a bjork sounding, siren like voice. With rich and stunning guitar waves, blinding and beautiful, it was truly otherworldy. Long has it been since a support act keeps up with the main. Seriously, if you have a moment, you will not be disapointed.