Journal
Back to spool
I found these old tape recorder books a while ago and they’ve proven surprisingly useful. It’s good to see looping was a thing in the ’50s.
- - The All-in-One Tape Recorder Book, Joseph M. Lloyd, Focal Sound, 1959 edition
- - Modern Tape Recording and Hi-Fi, Ken Peters, Faber, 1963
- - Composing With Tape Recorders, Terence Dwyer, 1971 (Joan, 2023 reprint)
Arts Council funding
Some good news: I’ve been awarded Arts Council England funding to expand my field skills, gather new source material and develop conceptual ideas. The highlight will be a short residency at Camp in the Pyrenees. Then in autumn, I'll resume work on the album and other projects. Lots to come!
One year
I took this average iPhone photo of Pen-y-ghent one year ago today. I was probably intending to share it on Instagram or here on my site, but as it turned out, I couldn’t bring myself to share anything from that trip.
With around 30 minutes of the drive remaining, I’d glimpsed the famous peak between stone houses. As we turned the corner, it came clearly into view, dusted in spring snow below a crisp blue sky. I pulled into the tiny village car park, and Geri and I jumped out to stretch our legs, breathe the cold air and appreciate the landscape. I took the photo in a rush, aware the subject was too far away for it to be worthwhile; I just wanted to capture the moment.
Mam stayed in the car.
She was very ill after four years of gradual decline and one month of rather sudden decline. I’d booked the cottage two months earlier, before things deteriorated. She was recently out of hospital, prematurely discharged and determined to make this trip — a three-hour drive up north to a remote cottage in the Yorkshire Dales. When we arrived at her house, I took one look at her and told her she didn’t have to go, but she was characteristically stubborn, and I was angry with myself for booking somewhere so far away.
It was to be her last trip anywhere. Despite the difficulties, I will always be glad that the three of us did something special for her 80th birthday. The evening was cosy and warm, with good food, fond memories and plenty of laughs. The day had drained her energy, but we all went to bed happy. Or, well... perhaps she went to bed really worried.
The next morning was heartbreaking and I won’t talk about it. I don’t even let myself remember it – right now, as always, I switch to thinking about something else... anything else. She needed attention but insisted on returning home. She slept all the way, and I drove those 160 miles with such exceptional care that I could’ve balanced an egg on the roof.
Later that day, she was back in hospital – a better hospital, eventually graduating from the corridor to a comfortable ward, staffed with good people who cared for her. It was there that she spent the last two weeks of her life.
I’ve been dreading 4th March, but it’s been ok. I've been preoccupied with an unusually dense period of client work and today that stole my focus as it has for several weeks. This evening, I’ll dig out a few favourite photos and think about my Mam, and my Dad, and our best times.
And one day this Summer, I’ll drive back up to Yorkshire, and I’ll climb Pen-y-ghent for the three of us.
Gifts
Last year, I finally watched Coda, having previously only caught a few scenes cut into other documentaries or exhibitions. I was captivated watching Sakamoto collecting sounds and trying things; making the music he wanted to make for himself. It’s particularly thrilling to see one of my favourite pieces, fullmoon, come into existence. I also watched Opus, the intimate film of his final performance — he’s so frail and it’s devastating to see his exhaustion.
A few months ago, I prioritised a back-to-basics, curriculum-minded approach to learning the piano. I’ll write more about this later, but it’s going very well.
When I sit down at my (digital) piano and compose myself, ready to do my best, I think about the artists that inspire me. I often think back to that morning with Sakamoto’s digital ghost in Manchester. As I wrote at the time:
I’m self-taught and lack a mentor. It dawns on me that something about this encounter feels like being given something. “Here, Simon… watch me play; watch closely.” And I do. I make sure to take it all in.
Geri recently returned from her latest trip to Japan with a couple of modest gifts — a recent issue of Brutus dedicated to Sakamoto, and /04, the first of two beautifully-designed volumes of his official song notation. She apologised that she hadn’t brought more, but I couldn’t have been happier.
And I can now play an amateurish interpretation of Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence, which feels like magic and makes me quite emotional for several reasons.
2024 in music
Here’s my 21st annual roundup. Despite pledging to reduce this obsessive cataloguing, I continue to go all in because exceptional new music just keeps on coming.
Listening stats 2024
I continue to document my listening stats, even though my Year in Music roundups are infinitely more valuable. Tomorrow, I’ll publish my meticulously curated 2024 in Music (update: it’s now available), but if data is your truth, read on.
Paul McCartney
A remarkable journey through an extraordinary life, with an overwhelming emotional connection that brought me to tears. Oh, and Ringo joined him on Helter Skelter.
Rome fan video
As a Cherry Tree fan club member, I receive live recordings from The National each year, but the new Rome public release stands out, capturing the fizz and occasional chaos that surprises first-timers. They’re forever one of my fave live bands, revelling in an energy that recent studio recordings tend to suppress.
A good touring band fosters a loyal community and joyful connection that strengthens with every show (something I’ve also experienced with The Cure). For me, seeing this band each year is a chance to get down the front, jump up and down and sing my heart out. And usually, we’ll grab a few videos.
And so, it’s nice to have a few of our personal moments preserved as an official part of the band’s history. Before releasing Rome, they put out a call for fan photos and videos, so I submitted a few clips. The result is this mammoth scrapbook, featuring several of our videos:
- 0:01:34 — First part of our fave, where Matt grabs Geri’s phone and records an incredible clip, Nottingham December 2020.
- 1:25:33 — Second part of that clip, featuring a lovely close-up of Geri.
- 0:04:38 — From the I Am Easy To Find launch, Royal Festival Hall, April 2019.
- 0:48:50 — A similar clip from that Royal Festival Hall show.
- 1:25:03 — Matt wading through Mancunians, Castlefield Bowl, July 2019.
Anti-social behaviour
My final months at the design agency I co-founded were horrible. In particular, I recall all sides firing off a few cryptic tweets. I think my own shots probably alternated between denial, thinly-veiled accusations, and cries for help.
Djrum
I listen to new music obsessively but occasionally fail to truly connect with artists that have much to offer me. This was the case with Djrum, whose music blends drum & bass, techno, downtempo and more. His 2018 album Portrait With Firewood expanded his palette to include delicate piano alongside guest vocals and cello. It made that year’s top 10, but I let it slip away.
Last month, after a long gap, his new album/EP, Meaning’s Edge, arrived. Though more intense, I was hooked. There’s so much going on, often all at once, and it takes several plays for the beauty to shine through. I especially love the bonkers percussive rhythms that pile up and the shakuhachi and bansuri flutes that appear throughout.
Anyway, it’s led me back to Portrait With Firewood, which is fast becoming one of my favourite albums. If you’re curious, I’m compiling a Djrum playlist (Apple Music) spanning his entire output.
Accumulated instinct
I’ve always kept screenshots and bookmarks of interesting visual ideas, but I’ve noticed this habit diminishing with each passing year. Now, when I encounter something visually captivating or potentially useful for future reference, I tend to admire without collecting.
Deleting 16,479 tweets
It’s now two years since I wrote Farewell, Twitter, not long after Porridge Musk bought it. I tweeted only twice more — once on my 50th birthday and once to advertise my availability for work. As I’ve barely been using social media as @colly for some time, it was pretty easy. (I have a long draft about my current attitude to social media, but it needs toning down a little before I share.)
Anyway, I backed up and then deleted all my tweets to (hopefully) prevent misuse of my archive. And because someone will always make a show of asking why we don’t delete our accounts: I’ve experienced a couple of impersonators, so hanging on to my username is non-negotiable.
I continued posting to my music account (mostly promo tweets) because literally nobody in my music community (and none of the labels, publications, etc.) left Twitter until very recently; I could only get certain information, reach enough people, or chat with some collaborators there. I finally stopped tweeting as @sitenonsite in July, and didn’t even promote my last release there. The app is deleted from my phone and I no longer visit for any reason.
Nala Sinephro
I adore Nala Sinephro’s 2021 debut, Space 1.8, and this year’s follow-up, Endlessness, is equally captivating. I’ve wanted to see her play live for some time and her mesmerising show at The Barbican didn’t disappoint.
Move
One day with Ableton Move and I’m hooked. It’s way more capable, versatile and intuitive than it looks and suits my workflow (sofa, studio or outdoors) perfectly.
I think carefully before buying new gear, and I researched Move’s scope for two days (I think YouToobers are revealing its abilities better than Ableton’s own material does). I made a long list of I/O and setup scenarios to test and so far, it’s exceeding all expectations. Highlights for me are: immediately sampling anything via internal mic or cable, the 256-step sequencer, transferring projects to Note/Live, and connecting a MIDI keyboard to create a mini-synth.
Tip: if you get one, keep wired earbuds and relevant input/MIDI cables in a little pouch and keep it to hand, ready for anything.
Move won’t suit everyone (it’s received some gleeful criticism, largely from outside Ableton’s user base, for only having four tracks) and it isn’t the most feature-rich stand-alone, but Ableton knows its audience and the device’s constraints suit me.
I’m making detailed notes about interesting ways to use it with tape machines, sequencing other gear, etc., and will probably post a deeper dive soon.
Delia’s Fourth Happening
Delia returned to the intimate By Our Own Hands We Make Our Way for its Fourth Happening. The evening began with ambient bliss from C5&C6, followed by a fascinating talk from Caroline Locke about her sound artworks. Headliners, The Low Drift, performed an evocative set of songs about land and place. As ever, host Simon Rudkin tied things together with poetry and storytelling. I love being a part of this community gathering around art and music, and it was fun to see friends old and new and chat about new possibilities.
Perfect Days
We finally watched Wim Wenders’ Perfect Days, an ode to solitude starring Koji Yakusho as a toilet cleaner finding happiness in doing things his way.
Wenders told Frieze: “The spirit of the film is in the fact that everything feels almost holy because that’s how he looks at everything.” We’re encouraged to embrace life’s simple pleasures and routine, to leave the past behind and appreciate the current moment — life as a simple philosophy.
Of course, I particularly loved the movie’s appreciation for cassette tapes, and I'd love to browse Hirayama’s shelves. I wonder if he’s been to Waltz?
Spinning around
I’m honoured that Tokyo-born, Berlin-based artist Tot Onyx included my song Paper Cranes in her deeply moving Hiroshima/Nagasaki mix, an hour of “Nuclear Age” music remembering the devastating events of August 1945 while also contemplating the present.
Making this mix gave me a quality of time to reflect the ongoing genocide and atrocities that are taking place right now. It proved to me that sometimes music can tell stories better than the language.
It’s also my first play on NTS. Alongside regular shows and guest playlists, the station excels at deep-dives into specialist topics and archive material. But I discovered I’d appeared via Apple Music for Artists’ new Radio Spins feature. Random Shazam spikes always made me curious but the data only offered a broad location (e.g. “Bellingham, USA”). Now, I can cross-reference with a list of stations that’ve played my stuff (mostly college radio, in my case). I’ll look one up, say KUGS 89.3FM, see that it broadcasts from Western Washington Uni — in Bellingham — and satisfy that curiosity.
I do love that something I’ve made can have this free-floating existence outside of my control, occasionally sending back little bits of data about its travels.
Ten years
It’s ten years to the day since I married my favourite person, and I still can’t believe my luck. I’m more grateful with every passing day xx
I’m releasing a live album
Live at Delia's Third Happening features six fresh arrangements and two new songs and I’m really proud of it. Months of work went into the show and I was unexpectedly happy with everything captured on the night. The recording has been mixed and mastered with great care, and feels like a fitting conclusion to the first chapter of Site Nonsite.
The album will stream everywhere from 6th September. For now, you can pre-order the download or cassette on Bandcamp and hear a sparkling nine-minute, multi-part rendition of Moss Garden.
Rebuild and refocus
I can’t remember when I last wrote an update about making changes to this website. I still love writing and need to document things, but the thought of tackling structural issues and refactoring code brought no excitement whatsoever.