This Is Music

On getting the band back together…

This week my band Black Night Crash had its first rehearsal for eight and a half years, as we prepare for a show to mark our tenth anniversary. This has caused me to reflect on my involvement with music, and why this feels so massively important. 

I had an invaluable foundation in music, spending a number of years playing cello in youth orchestras. I didn’t always enjoy it at the time, taking up most of my Saturdays as it did, and as I since realised completely scuppering my football playing ambitions. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing though: I’m a far more competent performer on a stage than I’d ever be on a football pitch. What it did give me was a huge appreciation of live performance, and that indescribable buzz you get from being in a group producing something that people genuinely enjoy.

That group dynamic is vitally important. I loved listening out, observing, and thinking about how everything in the orchestra would fit together to produce the complete work, and the same goes for all kinds of music. I’ve performed solo in the past as well, but it was never really my thing. I much prefer feeling like part of something bigger, creating and sharing together. 

By my mid teens, I’d realised that playing bass in a rock band was ever so slightly more cool than being an orchestra nerd. Most people of my age were swept up in the tsunami of resurgent popularity of guitar band sparked by Oasis and the like, and me and my school friends were no different, bashing out ropey covers of Supersonic, Live Forever and Parklife (just to show we weren’t biased). From there we began trying to take things a little more seriously, writing our own material and becoming pretty decent, I’d like to think. The high point came at one packed out, sweaty show where the crowd bounced around and sang along with words I’d written in songs we’d crafted. Once you’ve had a taste of that kind of rush, there’s very little that can top it.

Fast forward a few years and we reach the era of Black Night Crash. From the very outset it was deadly serious, all or nothing stuff, meticulously planned. In the end, that level of pressure that we put on ourselves was probably our downfall. Aiming impatiently for 100% professional perfection and large-scale success, we fell apart under the weight of our own expectations. Ultimately, it just wasn’t meant to be, for want of a better cliché.

But that’s not to say we didn’t have fun, because believe me we did. Some of the shows we did were incredible. The festivals, particularly Beached, Middlesbrough Music Live, and Guilfest were amazing experiences, playing to big, new, and appreciative crowds. The mini tour we did supporting west country outfit BlackBud I think we would all rank as a proper time-of-your-life episode. 

For me a lot of the stuff out of the public eye was just as enjoyable. When it was just the four of us in a rehearsal room or recording studio, that’s when I felt the most pride and wonder in what we were doing, pushing each other to create the best music we possibly could. A large part of the live performance is just that – performance. You’re a showman, entertaining the people in front of you right at that moment, which of course is fantastic and a vital part of the whole package of being in a band. But when you’re writing and recording, you’re purely a musician, and that’s when you can drink it all in and live that creative output.

People often ask why I pretty much completely stopped playing music when Black Night Crash finished first time around. I suppose for that I would go back to the second point there. As well as those guys being some of my dearest friends, musically we clicked in such a way that I could not possibly imagine reaching those same levels of enjoyment in the simple playing of music with anybody else. The amount of emotional energy invested in the band didn’t leave anything left for anyone else in any case. At our first rehearsal back this week, we immediately hit upon that winning formula again. Clearly some ingrained muscle memory had us clicking straight away, with a tightness that shocked and delighted us all. Most thrilling was getting straight on with working on some new material, and feeling that familiar old buzz as the creative energy started to fizz once more. 

How far will we take it this time? Honestly, I’m not sure. Right now there’s no grand plan and no pressure. We’ll write, record, perform and most importantly, enjoy it. Music is one of the greatest, joy-bringing life forces, and to be able to create it and simply enjoy it is about the greatest thing a person can do. It’s good to be back.

Black Night Crash play Fibbers, York, on Saturday 24 May. Tickets on sale now.

Fashion Statement

On needlessly controversial marketing...

The fashion industry is one that throughout much of its history has wilfully courted controversy as designers seek to push boundaries further in the quest for the new look and more importantly how to sell it. However, somewhere there must be, you would think, the odd boundary line between the edgy, the innovative, the distasteful and the downright offensive. Recently controversy erupted over high street hipster chain Urban Outfitters selling a women’s top emblazoned with the word ‘depression’. The outrage on social media moved the company to pull the item from online sale, but the storm was already unleashed.

Urban Outfitters of course have plenty of previous, selling tops with messages encouraging binge drinking, eating disorders and the general objectification of women. As Jessica Wakeman suggested in The Guardian, a cynical mind might come to the conclusion that these periodic scandals could well just be shameless publicity stunts. From that point of view they certainly work, if you take the line that all publicity is good publicity.

The offending garment was designed by a label from Singapore, also called Depression. This small label had been flying mainly under the radar until now, but has now found itself caught in the fallout of the latest scandal engulfing their insensitive client. Their name itself raises the same questions as the infamous t-shirt, but herworldPlus.com report that their co-founder Kenny Lim says: “Depression ‒ the label ‒ should not be confused with depression ‒ the illness. We were creatively depressed and this [the fashion label] was to be our outlet.” This I would say is a pretty weak explanation, and while I’m sure Lim and his partner were not intending to cause offence or controversy, the choice of that name seems at best naive. Still it’s worth noting that of all their garments in their collection, the selection by Urban Outfitters of this particular top, the only one covered with the offending word, clearly shows their intentions.

It’s not just personal and health issues over which Urban Outfitters have upset people though. In 2011 they made enemies of Native Americans by using the Navajo trademark on a range of garments, which were also made to look like they had been made by Native Americans (an illegal act in America). 2012’s brouhaha was triggered by the release of a t-shirt that featured a star-like motif which seemed to resemble the kind of clothing Jews were forced to wear during the Holocaust. Then last year they managed to offend the Hindu community with a line of socks featuring an image of Lord Ganesh. The reaction to these items caused them to be withdrawn and apologies issued. These apologies though seem to have as much sincerity behind them as Father Jack Hackett saying sorry to Bishop Brennan in Father Ted. Of course the apology is irrelevant as the objective of shameless exposure has already been achieved. 

Artists should be given freedom of expression of course, but is this really within the artistic spectrum? Other labels and retailers seem to save it for the adverts rather than the actual clothes themselves – Sisley’s depiction of two girls snorting a vest strap as though a line of something far less innocent, and both Calvin Klein and Dolce&Gabbana using imagery that appeared to portray gang rape being recent examples. Urban Outfitters sell a wide range of items so the fact that they pull these occasional controversial garments from sale as soon as the predictable storm blows up (seemingly on an annual basis) suggests they are most likely a marketing tool rather than a fashion statement. 

Should we really be so offended by this style of branding? To some extent, yes. More though these publicity stunts are just that – stunts. They are puerile and insensitive and deserve to be treated with disdain as much as anything else. But the cases identified of using mental conditions as marketing tools seems particularly crass, and can potentially undermine the efforts of awareness groups and campaigns which have made so much ground in recent years to change opinions with regard to them. Depression and eating disorders are not cool by any definition. How to combat this retailer's unpleasant marketing policy? Quite simply don’t shop there. Falling profits will get the message across soon enough.

Like what you like

On postmodernism, culture and taste...

When you are in the “getting to know” phase upon meeting a new person, an easy starting point for most conversation is ‘what music are you into?’ The standard response is usually ‘all kinds of stuff’, which with a bit further probing can often be pinned down to whatever is on Radio 1 or whatever is on offer at Tesco: a fairly narrow range. But there are others, and I would include myself in this, for who ‘all kinds of stuff’ really means just that. Personally I’m “into” everything from classical to punk via house and many stops in between. Does this make me somehow a better person? No, of course not.

I grew up playing classical music in orchestras and listening to old 60s/70s guitar bands at home. After the typical pre-teen dalliance with pop I found Britpop/indie and began playing in rock bands, and from here my taste exploded in every direction, seeking to discover and try as much as possible. Today I absolutely love radio shows such as Nick Luscombe’s Late Junction on Radio 3 and the Sunday morning show with Cerys Matthews on BBC 6 Music, both of which delight me in providing a deluge of material of any genre you can imagine that would never have previously crossed my path.

What I can’t stand is people decrying any artist or genre just because it’s not to their personal taste. Justin Bieber is not rubbish, he’s just not your bag. Similarly I find it hard to fathom those who appear to force themselves to like things out of a desire to appear more cultured and right-on. It’s OK to like Girls Aloud: they produce fantastic pop songs. It’s OK to dislike African music: it doesn’t make you a racist or any less of a liberal, if that’s what you’re striving for.

While studying English at university, I fell upon the concept of postmodernism and as is my wont took some bits that I liked and applied them universally to everything. Generally speaking I was not a great student, in that I did not particularly enjoy the studying aspect. I loved reading and writing, but I hated the academic study of literature and literary criticism, feeling that enjoyment should always take precedence over the whys, wherefores and hidden meanings (perceived or real). Dr Mary Klages at the University of Colorado sees postmodernism as ‘...rejecting boundaries between high and low forms of art, rejecting rigid genre distinctions,’ a view I took and applied to the nth degree. Pushed to extremes you could, as I try to, say that nothing has any intrinsic value – take everything as you find it and like what you like.

Postmodernism of course is a critical concept too, and here’s where it probably loses me. I am not always keen on some of the elements of what are considered traits of postmodernist literature –chaos, pastiche, rejection of grand narrative, fragmentation and all kinds of other craziness. In fact another philosophy I latched onto at university was the New Puritan Manifesto, which itself rejected many of these features of postmodernism, espousing pure narrative storytelling in its basest form. That said, look at any list of what are considered postmodern novels, and you will find some of my favourite authors: Kazuo Ishiguro, Don DeLillo, Kurt Vonnegut and Italo Calvino, to name a few. Sometimes I’m in the mood for some surreality, sometimes I’m not.

Back at that time I also used my postmodern approach to reject the canon, eschewing the classics, carrying a fairly infantile opinion of old = boring = bad. Thankfully I have mellowed somewhat in recent years, even giving Dickens a go and discovering that there’s a bloody good reason that he is considered in such high regard. I still recall though being bored pretty much to tears at university by the works of some other notable names in the literary pantheon. I still don’t recognise the canon as such, but I would no longer discount a work just for being part of it.

I suppose what I’m getting at in this piece is cultural snobbery, the scorn of some people towards another’s personal tastes, and how ridiculous it is. In terms of culture, the arts, any forms of entertainment, I’ve come to be of the opinion that nobody should ever be criticised for what they like. As long as people have a passion or enjoyment for something, that should be enough. Personally I can’t stand Dan Brown’s writing, but I can appreciate why it appeals to many. Not many in the world of high-end literature would have much good to say about him, but I wouldn’t criticise anyone for enjoying his novels. At least they are reading.

Film is another medium very much open to this kind of discrimination. Personally I do not like action films, these days finding them dull, formulaic and predictable and difficult to enjoy even on an ironic, disconnect-brain level. But I know plenty of cultured folks who will happily keep going back to the cinema for the latest blockbusters, and I fully admit that there are some in the genre that I love. Whether you appreciate the work of Fellini or the American Pie series really isn't important as long as you enjoy what you watch.

Culture and entertainment are such subjective concepts. I have friends in the music and fashion worlds who to put it politely can’t comprehend my obsession with sport, and likewise many of my football comrades would struggle to see the appeal of poetry or arthouse cinema. Some weekends I feel like getting drunk and watching lower division football while on others maybe I’ll prefer to wander around an art gallery for a few hours. I know plenty who would make fun of me for either choice. Ultimately, what’s the difference? It’s all entertainment in the end. To anyone unsure about trying something outside their cultural comfort zone, I would quote the philosophy of Steve Coogan's character Pauline Calf: ‘If you like it, do it. If you don’t like it, do it – you might like it!’

Here is your homework...

To read:

Tales From Ovid  – Ted Hughes

Goalkeepers Are Different – Brian Glanville

Other Voices, Other Rooms – Truman Capote

To watch:

Office Space – dir. Mike Judge

Le Souffle ­– dir. Damien Odoul

The Angels’ Share – dir. Ken Loach

To listen to:

Maman a tort ­– Mylène Farmer

Piano Concerto No.2 in C Minor (Op.18) – Sergei Rachmaninoff

Lipstick Lickin’ – Milburn