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.
It was an experience to cherish, though I won’t attempt to dissect it in detail — just a few notes for my own benefit.
Nala sat on the left with her harp, a Prophet ’08 and small modular setup. Facing her on the right were Wonky Logic and Lyle Barton on additional synths, Natcyet Wakili on drums, and Chelsea Carmichael on saxophone. The auditorium was bathed in darkness, with only the warm glow of several large lamps illuminating the musicians.
The performance began with her harp — expressive and loose, with occasional plucks and note motifs bringing form and focus. After perhaps 10 minutes, Nala invited the others to begin adding layers. She’d turn to a musician and prompt them with a warm gesture — a smile for a bass drone, a nod for sax, a gentle wave for percussion. The first section was gorgeous, although it seemed like the ensemble was only warming up.
The second movement began with Nala at her synth. Once again, she carefully brought in the other musicians, building a rich intensity that was even more harmonious and satisfying than the first. I finally connected to jazz during the pandemic, and I especially love it when it’s blended with electronic synthesis. The synth — with its cutoff and resonance, or the rate and intensity of LFO — is no less expressive a jazz instrument than piano or sax. Although Nala is primarily a harpist, the way she takes a simple arpeggio on a journey through multiple oscillators, playing freely with tempo and modulation, is quite something.
The third section was probably closest to what you might call ambient jazz, with Nala still on synth. The concluding minutes saw the others fall away, leaving her to embark on hypnotic solo synthesis. The electronic expression resolved into a quieter, more delicate phase of ebb and flow, seeming to communicate in frequencies attuned to a sense of inner peace. She’d bring up a little synthetic rhythmic pulse and then knock it back to a pleasing sustained root note that sounded like she’d identified and amplified my internal hum. I don't know how best to describe that fuzzy feeling but it was intensely calming.
That was an hour gone, and then... agh, we had to go. I’d originally booked a hotel, but then we found out we’d need to drive to Manchester for a thing the next morning. I hate driving to and from London, so I’d risked booking a late train. Sadly, a combo of last-minute route changes and Nala hitting the stage an hour later than advertised (“technical reasons”) caused us to miss a third of the show.
But, no regrets. Without concern for time, I might’ve settled into an ambient-induced dreamstate, letting the performance wash over me. Instead, the slight anxiety had me sitting upright and the need to keep an eye on my watch sharpened my focus. I found myself more attentive, honing in on the sound design, intricate details and layering. I made mental notes and compiled a list of techniques to try in the studio. In the end, I absorbed every available moment and perhaps came away with more than I’d anticipated.
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 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.
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?
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.
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
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.
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.
I don’t get a kick out of coding anymore, but you know how it goes. You get started, make some major changes… and if it goes well, you get into it. And then if you deploy and the deployment doesn’t fuck up and you don’t lose a day banging your brains into the wall and wondering what went wrong then, well, it’s almost rewarding. And besides, this is a Kirby site, so generally, I can make things work, and the CSS (actually Sass, it’s all out of date over here) work is minimal.
I launched the Stream section of this site almost five years ago and it served me well, reducing friction and encouraging me to write more frequent, shorter posts about things that would otherwise go undocumented. Most notably, it helped me let off steam during the pandemic. My Stream was an experiment, and I’ve no regrets, but I increasingly found myself wondering if something suited either my Stream or Articles channel. And both buckets still had little bumps that slowed down the process of having a thought and sharing it. I also hated that tags only showed you content from whichever channel you were in.
So, I’ve made some changes. Articles and Stream are now combined as one Journal feed with a simpler layout. Each shorter post (Notes) can be read in its entirety on the Journal page, and longer posts (Articles) have a preview inviting you to read the entire piece. The individual post templates are pretty much as before, but tags now connect everything from everywhere, which is a significant improvement for me and the way I retrieve information here.
Everything seems stable, save for the odd missing image and a few misaligned elements. I think RSS feeds are fine, but I’m using several htaccess rules to keep multiple feed sources alive. Do let me know if you see anything troubling, but there's no need to report the little stuff.
Anyway, this is not a redesign. I still love my homepage timeline and the site in general. What I am preparing for is a new approach to the Work section and how I present what I do, because it’s evolved. I’m officially a creative director, but I do a lot of visual exploration work, finding edges and seeking new perspectives — a sort of half-designer, half-artist, more often cutting and collaging than coding. I realise that what I offer is relatively unique and might serve me well in our plastic AI-fucked future. My task now is to explain this in an engaging way (tricky when much of my work can’t be shared) and attract new clients. I absolutely love those currently keeping me in meaningful work, but it’d be foolish to expect those relationships to last forever.
I’ve lots more to do here, and I won’t be happy unless I make it interesting. And so, while I still have work, I’ll think about it carefully, and take my time.
Hello, RSS-only readers. Forgive the short and frustratingly dull update, but I’m some way into a major refactor of my site and I’m testing two things: 1) that the RSS feed works, and 2) that these RSS-only posts are coming through. I can see the results for myself, so no need to reply. Once things are settled, I’ll write a more interesting update about what I’ve done and what I'm aiming to do.
On Saturday, I played a 45-minute set at Delia’s Third Happening. The audience, which included many friends old and new, was lovely, and the venue was beautiful. I was extremely nervous, but I did it. The recording needs a little work, but sounds good; I hope to release it later this Summer.
Photos from a short trip to Edinburgh, Dundee and Newcastle. Five days encompassing long drives, gigs, exhibitions, architecture, unrivalled baked goods and plenty of rain.
Our short trip up North started with a long overdue return to Edinburgh. Highlights included exceptional lamination from Lannan Bakery and watching The National set up their show.
Edinburgh gave us the perfect opportunity for a day trip up to Dundee, so we could finally visit V&A Dundee. We're fans of architect Kengo Kuma (although Geri's visited way more of his projects than I have).
Here are a few photos from the Kimono: Kyoto to Catwalk exhibition at the V&A. This is a fantastic show, especially the well-preserved early Kyoto garments and exquisite accessories.
I regularly came to Newcastle while at art school in nearby Sunderland during the mid-90s. We'd visit for various reasons, and my Mam and Dad — in love with the region thanks to such cultural monuments as Auf Wiedersehen, Pet, Our Friends in The North and Dire Straits — always wanted an afternoon here when visiting. After I graduated, visits were few and far between, and I think the last time I was here was to speak at DIBI conference back in 2010.
We tacked on a night here after grabbing tickets for DJ Shadow at The Glasshouse. The weather was awful, but spending a little time here is always good. The photos below feature the excellent Joanne Coates exhibition at Baltic.
Our short trip took place from 10th to 14th July.
The Glasshouse International Centre for Music, Gateshead. Having recently rediscovered a radio edit of his epic Rock City gig twenty-two years ago, I was eager to see him again.
I was a big fan of DJ Shadow between 1996 and 2006. Endtroducing was the gateway, and I love the 1998 compilation Preemptive Strike, 2002’s The Private Press and 2006’s The Outsider. I also adored UNKLE’s Psyence Fiction and the Product Placement collaboration with Cut Chemist. And then there’s the Solesides and Quannum West Coast hip-hop stuff. I love it all.
But then I drifted away. I didn’t pay much attention to the following albums and didn’t connect to last year’s synthy 80s Action Adventure.
I first saw Shadow live in Nottingham in 2002, part of a BBC Radio 1 week of shows, and it was an incredible experience. Two thousand people crammed into Rock City. He spent the first few minutes explaining all his equipment, which was genuinely riveting. Then he played for two hours. And then he did a 40-minute encore. I recently found a BBC Radio 1 edit of the show via a Discogs comment, and it’s put a fire back under my appreciation for Shadow’s early work. I mentioned this on Mastodon and shared the show via Dropbox, and was surprised how many people thanked me.
Here’s something I wrote for my Designer Discs interview a few years ago, when I chose Midnight in a Perfect World as one of five songs that mean a lot to me.
Endtroducing is in my top five albums forever, and it’s linked me to all sorts of Bay Area hip-hop and stuff. You imagine him getting to know all these strange tracks and albums for years, working out how to fit them together and then bang; this album comes out, and it’s like Dark Side of the Moon with decks. Other people can do this technically, but few conjure up these dense moods and dark feelings —some tracks on Endtroducing feel pretty strange.
Shadow returned to Rock City on this tour, but we knew we’d be up North and so we grabbed tickets for The Glasshouse in Gateshead. I hadn’t been in the building since 2010 when it was called The Sage and I spoke at the excellent DIBI conference. It’s still a fab and welcoming venue, and I wish we had something like it here.
I won’t review the show at length as it’s not easy, and I’m tired. But I’ll leave a few notes.
I remember that in 2002, he was crate-digging like crazy, working across two Technics 1200s, two CDJ turntables and banging an MPC sampler non-stop. The set was based around complete or more clearly discernable songs and included a lot of Gift of Gab, Blackalicious, etc. Tonight’s show was very different, a denser, more complex and fragmented assemblage of hard-hitting tracks and collaborations from across his thirty-year career. I was too far from the stage (lovely box seat, though) to see the equipment, but the setup seemed way more straightforward, probably reliant on CD backing tracks, allowing for almost continuous scratching. He did make samples from a mini drum kit, though. Oh, and the visuals were constant and tightly tied to the sound, often leaning on music videos. I’d have loved to hear more recognisable passages from those early albums and I think the set needed a few more spacious and spooky moments, but I’m not complaining — the overall show was superb.
It was an interesting audience: many people my age with their partners, many baseball caps, and quite a few younger folks. It was a seated gig, save for a small standing area below the stage, and it took a while for the room to warm up. But when it did, it was electric. A few brave souls left their seats to get moving, and soon everyone jumped to their feet. Towards the end of the set, he’d whipped everyone into a frenzy and the atmosphere was incredible. I can still feel the vibrations.
I can’t post a setlist as it wasn’t that kind of gig and TBH, I think it’d be near-impossible for anyone except Shadow to compile. That said, the visuals helpfully referenced many tracks, and I’ve expanded my DJ Shadow playlist.
Edinburgh Castle. My twelfth show, but not one of the best, thanks to an exceptionally frustrating crowd. We moved twice, but arseholes were everywhere, and the whole vibe was off.
11th July 2024
Edinburgh Castle
Support from Beth Atwell.
Not long now, Nottingham! Join us in beautiful St John’s, Carrington, on Saturday 20th July and witness The Young Vanish perform the Lost in Translation OST, preceded by a 45-minute set from me, captivating songs from Eleanor McGregor and considered selections from Van Allen. Tickets.
We went to see Spirited Away at the London Coliseum with good friends. I love the film (although my fave Ghibli will always be Mononoke), and enjoyed the stage reimagining overall. The design was innovative and playful and the Japanese actors were excellent. My highlight was the rotting spirit bath scene, the cast thrillingly engulfed by the detritus from his stomach.
However, the production didn’t blow me away, with several key scenes lacking the visual impact or subtle handling I’d expected; most notably, the train scene fell short. Being in the very back row didn’t help, as I often struggled to match the dialogue to the appropriate characters on a busy stage full of actors and animators. Also, the desire to recreate the film scene-by-scene made it feel sluggish, and I occasionally lost interest.
When leaving the theatre, I checked my phone and was thrilled to see the exit poll predicting the Labour landslide and Lib Dem/Green gains. After 14 years of hurt, it’s good to see our new government wasting no time getting things done. Reform’s rise worries me, but the spiriting away of the Tories will deliver significant benefits to my mental health.
Designers signed their own execution warrants in large part due to uncritical, pandering adoption of design systems.
I’m in agreement with Cennydd’s response to Tan Renzu’s post reminding us that our industry’s preference for regurgitating the same increasingly simple patterns will allow AI to adequately perform many product design tasks. I stopped talking about systems a decade ago, aware that the unstoppable pursuit of prescriptive, cumbersome frameworks was at odds with my old-school appreciation for looser, more holistic guidance.
I really enjoyed Irish Wildlife Sounds and the Race to Record Ireland’s Birds, an in-depth Bandcamp Daily article about ornithologist, field-recordist and producer Seán Ronayne, currently in the process of completing a collection of calls and sounds from all known regularly-occurring bird species in Ireland.
It’d been too long since I’d spent several uninterrupted days in my favourite place. And I needed this trip, because opening myself to the valley’s slow time always leaves me recharged and reorientated.
I’ve been making things in response to this place since my teens, most notably as a young visual artist (my old sketchbooks burst with a fascination for the Dark Peak) and again now, having reconnected with that wide-eyed younger version of myself. I arrived prepared with a list of research topics and several experiments to run. Time in the valley has always helped me pay better attention to my ideas, and I knew this trip would help narrow my project goals.
Of course, Edale’s a lovely place to do anything at all. Geri also made good use of the trip, and together, we enjoyed several sunny and uplifting walks.
On our way to Edale, we stopped at a favourite family spot in neighbouring Hope Valley to reunite my Mam and Dad. It comforts me that they are together again, on a day trip that will never end, looking out across these hills forever.
Then, over the Nick and into the Vale of Edale. Our tiny cottage in Barber Booth suited us perfectly: very quiet, walks in every direction, and the old chapel a few yards away. A neighbour’s bird feeding station captivated me, drawing everything from siskins to woodpeckers, keeping the outstanding Merlin Bird ID app busy. Edale’s best on sunny summer evenings, and with low evening sun illuminating the hills, it was clear we’d timed our trip well.
In the morning, I went out on my own, across the fields to Upper Booth, stopping occasionally to run different experiments. I made standard recordings with and without external mics and explored nascent sound/land art ideas. I exposed magnetic tape (on which I’d recorded loops) in various places and buried some recordings in the soil to retrieve later. I like to experiment because I never want to forget what it feels like to be an artist, and I have always tried to involve the place and have a dialogue with it. I also enjoy getting dirty in the name of art.
I returned to the cottage and dried the tape. In the afternoon, we walked across the fields to Grindsbrook Booth (more commonly known as Edale village) and caught the cafe before it closed. We then looped over to Ollerbrook Booth before a slightly hurried walk back chased by menacing storm clouds, which thankfully turned south.
Back in our little cottage garden, I organised field recordings, and Geri studied before we settled in for an evening of comforting food and televised footy.
The weather was kind, so I tested my portable studio outside. I’ve spent some time getting this together because I love the idea of jamming outdoors. I also want to develop rough ideas in the places that inspire them and invite live field recordings into the process. Doing experiments and jamming outdoors is all part of me seeing what makes sense, connecting multiple interests, trusting my instincts and better understanding the need and purpose of my creative outlets. I write a lot of ideas down, but they mean very little unless I get out and pursue them.
I've posted a short video of my favourite jam on my Stream.
After lunch, we set off again across the fields to Edale. The sun was intense, and the valley was alive with life and livestock, but mercifully few humans. Another stop at the cafe, another massive cherry bakewell. With sunny and stable weather, we took the lower Pennine Way path up to Broadlee-Bank Tor, where we paused to appreciate the outstanding views. We descended to the farm at Upper Booth, where we finished our Ginger Beer and laughed at free range hens before a slow walk back along the quiet road.
Three nights would never be enough, and we were sad to pack up. At least we’d arisen early and found time for a bit of reading in the garden. After checkout, we headed over the ridge and down Winnats Pass to Castleton for coffee and lemon meringue cronuts.
It was early Thursday morning, but the village was bustling: coaches blocking traffic, side roads closed, and all the world’s children here in multicoloured school bibs tailing us. I was also insulted by Mr “Some of us do live here, you know!” for no good reason; I ought to have challenged him to a “Let’s see who knows more about Castleton?” competition — or knocked him into next week — but instead, I just moped off and let it briefly discolour the trip before Geri caught up and consoled me. To cheer ourselves up, we drove across the national park to Tagg Lane Dairy for double scoops of gelato before the drive home.
Back in the studio, I cleaned, assembled and digitised the tape I’d exposed in the River Noe. The results are full of character, and I hope I’ll get similar positive results from my other experiments.
One thing’s for sure: a few days in Edale has reinvigorated me and encouraged me to follow my instincts and continue to expand, and that’s a result that I never doubted.
Our short trip took place from 17th to 20th June.
I enjoyed testing my portable setup during our recent stay in Edale, responding directly to the place. Here’s an excerpt from a sketch I like, layering loops over live birdsong, passing traffic and the steady static of the river.
I enjoy developing new scenarios for making music. I’ve learned enough over the last few years that now, when I have an idea, I can think it through, gather what I need and make it happen.
Today, I tested a USB-powered DAWless (no computer) setup for imminent field trips. I’m powering four components — synth, 4-track, two pedals — with two bricks and a miscellany of step-up cables (understanding voltage and polarity is vital). It all goes into my old DR-40, which also captures the environment on separate channels. Fingers crossed for some breaks in the rain.
We popped into town for the sold-out Sam Morton release day show at Rough Trade. During the signing, I bonded with local hero Sam about Broxtowe and family loss (she surprised me with the most sincere hug) and chatted with XL boss Richard about his music and why I hope he’ll listen to mine).
I first wrote about the Sam Morton project last year, and previously noted Sam's candid Desert Island Discs interview.
We enjoyed a sunny jaunt to London to see outstanding Munich-based Mongolian singer Enji (full name Enkhjargal Erkhembayar, nickname Ulaan) at Kings Place. Enji’s music straddles Mongolian folk and jazz and is, at times, excitingly inventive. Accompanied by guitarist and co-composer Paul Brändle and bassist River Adomeit, her performance was intimate and the music beautiful. We met Enji afterwards and she signed Geri’s copy of Ulaan.
We also caught the Expressionists: Kandinsky, Münter and The Blue Rider show at Tate Modern. I always enjoyed this movement, although many of my favourite works are absent, and I’m less keen on Kandinsky these days. Thankfully, the show brings our attention to the striking work of Gabriele Münter, including her portrait of Marianne Werefkin, which has something of an anime/Ghibli vibe while also succeeding in giving the male gaze a good slap.
Yesterday, I performed my music in public for the first time — a 35-minute set at Ambient Witney featuring two new ideas and four fresh arrangements. Many months of hard work paid off, and I left encouraged by the positive response. If you're curious, I rounded up several clips on Instagram.
I can't wait for my next show (in July, to be announced soon) and with luck, there’ll be more shows beyond Summer.
O2 Academy, Birmingham. Having missed out on seeing this bucket list band on several occasions, we finally caught them touring in support of their first album in eleven years.
10th May 2024
O2 Academy, Birmingham
Support from Liz Lawrence.
I heard a scream of swifts high above the park in West Bridgford on 2nd May, but didn’t see them, the sky obstructed by trees. Today, 7th May — five days later and on the same date as last year, I saw the first swifts above our house.
Previously: 2023, 7th; 2022, 11th; 2021, 16th; 2020, 5th; 2019, 9th; 2018, 7th; 2017, 11th.
1944–2024.
My Mam was the strongest woman I ever knew. She put me first for fifty years and worked tirelessly to support our family through thick and thin. She encouraged my creativity and always trusted me to follow my path.
Funny and sharp until the very end, she died peacefully yesterday morning (we were with her) after ongoing health issues worsened over the last couple of months.
I still haven’t really taken it in, and think sharing might help with that.
Mam, I love you xx
This year’s been full of unexpected challenges, meaning I’ve lost focus in some areas and chosen not to spend energy documenting things. But making music continues to offer a kind of therapy through play, and I’m grateful.
Of course, releasing music feels like throwing your loved ones into a void, making it all the more rewarding when people connect with it. And attracting a review anywhere, let alone in a respected publication, seems impossible for unsupported artists. So, I’ve made an exception to my hiatus because I’m in the latest Electronic Sound, a print magazine I’ve read for years, and that’s worth a post.
I thought I’d lost my old iPod, but found it in the cellar and got it working again. It’s a delight to find a lovely old playlist on it, currently playing through the Scarlett into Ableton and my ears via my desk speakers. I thought ~2005 might’ve been the last time I’d used it, but the playlist is called AAA NACONF, so I must’ve dug it out and loaded it up for the conference tech team in January 2011.
It was exciting to see it charge (I cobbled together a wall charger from three old cables), but it was stuck on the Apple logo for ages; thankfully, a trusty forced restart button combo brought it to life. It’s a shame I can’t manage its contents because there’s an empty 6GB; I understand that Macs still recognise these models, but it takes a silly daisy chain of dongles or an old machine with a FireWire port. Maybe one day.
I’ll be making my live debut alongside Nine Is The Level and A Year’s Rain in Witney (Oxfordshire) on Sunday 12th May, 7:30pm (after that afternoon's Pedal Party). If you're curious, there's an accompanying playlist (Spotify/Apple).
A dream project has come to fruition. Last year, I invited several artists to rework music from my Japan EPs, and all agreed. I am indebted to 99LETTERS, Justin Von Strasburg, Karen Vogt, Lardkid, Paul Cousins, Pushkins Prefers, Veryan and Xylander and I can’t wait to share their interpretations. Remixed also includes a new song and will be available next month.