[September 2008][August 2008] [July 2008] [May 2008] [April 2008] [March 2008] [Nov 2007][O Death] [May] [Travel Guides (Feb)] [Mr Brown (Dec)] [Nov] [Oct (Rock)] [Sept 19th] [Sept (Lunch)] [Pluto] [August] [July] [June (Spam)] [Ligeti] [May] [April] [March (TCB)]

'O Death' Podcast on New Sounds, WNYC.

Last month, 'O Death' was featured on WNYC's New Sounds show.. It is now available for streaming and as a podcast: here. For those of you unfamiliar with New Sounds it's a really fantastic programme and I'm honoured that they're featuring my music.

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September 2008

Italy was fantastic, and I hope to have some audio evidence of the goings on at some point in the near future (I'll probably just post samples as the piece isn't finished.) To give some idea as to what I've been up to, let's just say that I've spent a lot of my time playing around with violin strings. All will be revealed.

On to more banal matters: as I've been getting the lay of the land that is downtown L.A. I decided to look at some films that feature this part of town. Lo and behold, I discovered that Heat, one of my favourite films ever, was partially shot in downtown. Actually it gets better than that. The shoot-out scene, which is the coolest part of one of the coolest movies ever was actually shot on our street. If you want a tour of the neighbourhood, I'm sure one could find this footage somewhere online. On a well-known video-clip sharing website, for example.

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August 2008

We're safely ensconced in Los Angeles, and seeing as I've been through my first earthquake I feel like a native, or at least bloodied. I'm off travelling again, this time to Italy (Stresa to be exact) but I'm happy to say that I've managed to find time to post another recording. This is of my 1-minute signature for Ensemble Klang on the occasion of their 5th birthday. Those of us who have had the distinct pleasure of writing for them over the last five years of their existence were asked to write very brief compositional signatures for them which were then strung together in a 30-or-so minute continuity. This is my contribution (go to the sounds page.)

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July 2008

I'm back from my European travels. I can happily say that Bergen was even more beautiful that I had expected, although the white-nights freaked me out a little. I mean, I'm used to late sunsets in England or Holland, but this was something else. Anyway, suffice to say it was fantastic and the ensemble that I was working with, BIT 20, were amazing too.

Having done one set of travels, Sarah and I are about to embark on a huge house move, so if there are no more updates on this site for a while, I have an excuse for a change... I'll be sure to post more once we get settled.

Lastly, if you haven't been here in a while, the latest recording I've added is my latest piece (well, almost) Gauze Vespers.

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May 2008

I'm off to Norway next month -Bergen to be precise. I must admit that I don't know much about Norway, but here's what I think of when I think of Norway: Fjords, Grieg and Black Metal, I don't just mention Black Metal as it's the only recent thing that I can think of when it comes to Norway (and please don't think that I'm having a go at Norway, this is all about my own ignorance), rather I bring it up because Black Metal was birthed in Bergen. I had this in the back of my mind when I did the thing that most people do when they plan on visiting a place they don't know much about -I went to the Visit Bergen website. And then I found this. Norway, I like you already.

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April 2008

Wonders may never cease! I've posted a new recording and there'll be another in the coming weeks. The recording is of my piece B&E (with aggravated assault) as performed by the group that I completely rewrote it for, NEWSPEAK.

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March 2008

I recently happened upon a Pirate Metal band performing live; I could describe their costumes and their music, but I'll leave it up to your wildest imaginings as they will more accurately portray my sense of surreal wonder than mere words ever could.

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Nov 2007

Well it's been a while. My excuse is being busy and being away. Since I last updated I've been in Aspen, Texas, Montreal and Florida, for various reasons, but mostly I've been remiss.

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O Death Premiere

Well it finally happened. The piece I've been talking about writing for the last five (sheesh!) years was performed at the end of March in NYC by Ensemble Klang [here's the flyer]. O Death took me nearly 18 months to write and ended up being nearly 70 minutes long (in seven movements.) The performances went very well indeed (Klang, nedless to say, were stunningly good) and the piece was met with the most glowing reaction that I've ever received for anything I've ever done. I was very pleasantly overwhelmed by the whole experience.

Anyway, I have a good live recording which can be found (along with PDF's of the score on my sounds page. Hopefully Klang will be giving O Death its Dutch premiere sometime soon, and I hope other performances will happen too.

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April & May 2007

Loads have things have been going on in the last couple of months including going back and forth to Holland twice, a four-night run of premieres in NYC and a computer failure, so all these things have conspired to make this an un-updated website. That's all going to change soon. I'll be posting some new recordings and I hope some videos too. I might even write some inanities here to boot.

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Travel Guides (Feb 2007)

As there's no entry for January, this'll have to do for both months. Sarah and I were back in the old country after far too long away. Before we left, I guess I was missing it so much that I started to read travel/tourist guides. It's quite interesting to read such things about one's own country and I recommend doing so in an idle moment. As far as the age-old quest for refreshment is concerned, this website is really quite useful and we found several good pubs as a result, a real favourite being The Mitre near Paddington (although we did go a couple of times to what really should be the local and that had a couple of good pints only a few of feet away from an ex-007.) For a more general guide specifically written with our ex-colonial friends in mind, this is just the ticket.

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Mr. Brown (December 2006)

I heard the sad, sad news on Christmas day that James Brown died. There was so much hype surrounding James Brown (much of it self-perpetuated) in his lifetime that, from a distant perspective, it was hard to take the man seriously.

In many ways James Brown is an Elvis type-figure, except that I’m pretty sure that in the last twenty years he hasn’t produced much music of note. None of these things matter in the final analysis, however. James Brown is as important a figure as Elvis except that Elvis was an imitator and James Brown was a true innovator. He was one of the figures (although there are more notable examples such as Ray Charles and Sam Cooke) that was responsible for the birth of soul, but he went on to invent funk. There are other figures that lurk in the background, such as Dyke and the Blazers, but even a cursory glance and James Brown’s early 60’s releases shows funk in the making: the three-chord-patterns or R&B are being stretched and molded, every beat apart from the 1 is being teased and pushed around. By 1964, and particularly the track Out of Sight the musical paradigm of funk had been set: the scratchy guitars, the prominence of the bass guitar and the horns and the feeling that the whole group is in some sense a huge drum-set all pulling together, this was further honed on the 1968 release I got the Feelin’, which represents a kind of apotheosis in this type of musical thinking. It was another 1968 release that showed the James Brown had also defined the extra-musical aspect of funk. Say it Loud, I’m Black and I’m Proud became a rallying call, especially in the context of Dr. Martin Luther King’s assassination and further demonstrated that funk was as forthright politically as it was musically. Of course looking at the broader picture, other figures are at least as important in the story of funk (Sly and the Family Stone and Parliament/Funkadelic being the two most important groups for funk’s nurturing and development) but it was James Brown who conceived funk.

This would be in-and-of-itself a remarkable achievement, but as funk died and disco took over, block parties were springing up in neighborhoods where underprivileged kids couldn’t go (and/or didn’t want to go) to discothèques. From this culture DJ-ing and sampling were born and thus Rap and Hip-Hop. DJ’s wanted to take a groove and stick with it and funk was a natural source for that groove. Thus James Brown’s music got a second lease-of-life through the sampling of the next generation; so much so that Funky Drummer is the most sampled record ever. Of course, I hardly need to point out that Hip-Hop has become a global phenomenon, with examples of the genre from every continent of the world bar Antarctica. At some point in 2004, I believe, Hip-Hop records dominated the top-ten positions of the US chart. Thus James Brown’s influence hovers over five decades of popular music from the 60’s to the present day, something which cannot possibly said for Elvis; Indeed something which cannot be said for any other artist. For all his faults and shortcomings and for all the hype, on December 25 th, 2006 the world lost a true innovator, an inventor and a leader. R.I.P. Mr. Brown.

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November 2006

Look, I hate Christian Rock Too, But... (October 2006)

I agree, it’s wrong, it is an abomination and most likely unnatural. No argument from me.

Sometimes finding interesting (ok, my standards aren’t that high, frankly I shoot for 'vaguely whimsical', and often hit just a little above 'stultification') is quite hard (incidentally, that’s why this isn’t a blog: At All) and I long for somebody or something to do the writing for me. Well, this time I’ve found it. It must be a sign, surely.

I’ve hit the Rock Music will pollute your children (RMWPYC -buy the domain -quick!) jackpot. This rant, not only hates Rock Music but hates Christian Rock Music (TM, probably.) In a few short tomes it sets out music’s purpose (there are only two reasons for Real Music (TM, almost definitely)) and tells us the history of Rock Music (I have to use the title Theatrical Satan Rock sometime…) Furthermore it informs us that Rock Music is a gateway-experience from which the following will ensue (notes in parentheses are my own): Rebellion (ooh) –Suicide (boo) –Homosexuality (hmm) –Violence (grrr) –Immoraliy [sic] –Blasphemy (shh) -Drugs & Alcohol (uurrgghh) –Occult (oooo) –Worldliness -NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! One could note that it’s quite difficult to do the last seven of these post-suicide, but maybe that's just nitpicking. That’s just a sample of this eassay's wondrousness. I could go on, but you can just read it for yourself. It totally rocks.

Oh, Sarah took a picture of this round the corner from our house a while back but I forgot to post it until now. If he were my pet I’d call him Terry. Or Casper. Or Lord Madelmsley-Smythe.

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September 19th

September 19th is my birthday. Imgine my whoops of joy when I discovered that my birthday is a very, very special day indeed. ARRRRR!!!

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Lunch and a Show (September 2006)

Sarah and I had a truly extraordinary dining experience when we were in Barcelona earlier this month. After a morning of visiting museums we went to a restaurant for lunch. We walked in and the waiter seated us promptly. There were three other tables with customers: One table with three people who seemed to be hell-bent on ordering the entire a-la-carte menu, one 60-ish yeah old guy by himself, and one table of two ladies who had to be in their seventies. These other two tables, like us had ordered from the set lunch menu. The waiter came over and took our order, the menu included wine so I asked for this. We then proceeded to wait, and wait. And wait. This was more exasperating as the waiter didn’t seem to be doing anything, and when he was doing something it was like he was wading through invisible molasses.

Half an hour passed and I was getting very pissed off. Another table had arrived and the two guys there were finishing their starters. The old guy by himself was berating the waiter for his tardiness, but at least he’d got something. I called the waiter to see if we could at least get some wine, and he duly made his way over. It was at this point that he asked me one of the most extraordinary questions he could have asked. He asked me if I wanted the bill. I duly informed “the waiter” (as he will now be known) that we hadn’t got any food yet, and then he proceeded to give us menus. I repeated the entire order again (I have never, ever had to repeat an entire order) and he asked me what we wanted to drink. “Wine!” I shouted (please bear in mind that the entire of our exchange was in Spanish, so there was nothing misunderstood by either party.) We waited another few minutes, until I called him over again. By this time the newest table had ordered their desserts, so I pleaded for the wine once more. “The waiter” looked at the table intently. He then went away and duly returned with an enormous jug of wine. Way bigger than the carafes that were at any of the other tables. We duly began to plough our way through it.

Eventually our food arrived and it was fine, unremarkable but fine. We finished our starters and “the waiter” came over with our main courses, but he hadn’t cleared away the plates for our starters. This seemed to perturb him so he took our main courses away. He then had an argument with the old guy who was receiving almost as crap a service as we were. The thing was that “the waiter” would arrive with plates of food, examine each table closely as if doing some sort of anthropological study, do a 360 degree turn and then slope off. Eventually we got our main course, which at this point was decidedly tepid. The table with the ‘orderers’ had left, obviously satiated and satisfied with their collective dining experience and the new table was on coffee. Old guy though was shaking his head at me in a kind of ‘Do-you-believe-this-moron?’ type of way. “The waiter” asked him if he wanted coffee and the old guy reacted like the waiter had called his grandmother a whore. “What the hell is going on?” he demanded, to which “the waiter” mumbled something about a girl driving him mad and about the number of each table. The old guy thrust a bundle of Euros at “the waiter” and made off.

By now “the waiter’s” behavior was more fascinating than annoying. Sarah and I tried to analyze his condition. At first we thought that he might have terrible ADD, but from his intense concentration at tiny inconsequential objects I thought that he might be on Acid. Sarah remained circumspect, perhaps feeling that no one drug could render someone quite so monumentally rubbish at waiting tables. At this point he came back with the coffee for the two old dears who had been waiting quite while (I was beginning to think that the only justification for this guy being called a waiter was that he made his customers wait). “The Waiter” put one coffee down in front of one lady and put the saucer of the other drink down in front of the other lady but in the same movement he picked up the actual coffee glass and removed it. He ambled over to an empty table and very carefully placed the coffee there. There it reposed, resembling some kind of offering, no doubt to the God of service-industry staff. Upon witnessing this, the old ladies started to giggle. Then the giggle turned into loud laughter, which was then followed by guffaws. These old ladies laughed and snorted like school kids, and they didn’t let up for a good few minutes. Eventually, upon asking he brought them the other coffee, explaining that the previous one didn’t have enough milk in it. This was strange as the replacement was much less milky than the original. The old ladies proceeded to tease our hapless “waiter” and to ask for an explanation as to way today’s service was so unbelievably crap. “They changed the system” was his response (maybe he was really into The Matrix...)

The rest of our lunch passed uneventfully, except for not ordering coffee and being charged for it, but this as par-for-the-course at this point. We paid (minus the coffee and, needless to say, minus any semblance of a tip) and walked outside. It was then that we saw this sign

A while later Sarah and I were walking on Las Ramblas. I was reflecting on Sarah’s inability to speak Spanish so I opined: “It’s a good thing I speak Spanish otherwise we’d get shit service.” As she stopped dead in her tracks I realized the stupidity of my comment...

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Interplanetary Schoolyard

Ha-ha, Pluto you suck! No one liked you anyway. God you’re so stupid! You’re the runt of the solar system. Ha-ha you’re nothing but a dwarf planet! Well whatever, you’re still way better than your stupid girlfriend Charon. She didn’t even have a hard-c to her name. Yeah she’s stupid and you suck. God I can’t believe how much you suck! Let’s all sing along:

You're not a planet anymore,

You're not a planet,

You're not a planet anymore,

You're not a planet anymore.

Loser!!!

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August 2006

It has come to my attention after years of only being partially aware of this truth, that mankind has been swept up by the tyranny of only measuring hours in halves and quarters. There is no measurement known as 1/3rd of an hour. I recall listening to the dainty carillons in the Netherlands (and by dainty I mean profoundly irritating like chafing-skin-in-salt-water irritating) and feeling that their 1/4 of an hour peels were just too much. It is only now that I realise that there were one-too-many chimes per hour. This lack of recognition for such a noble measurement as 1/3rd of an hour shocks and saddens me. I believe it to be a greater measurement than a bit, a sec, a mo or even a while. I shall start a foundation to popularise it forthwith. And by forthwith I mean in a 1/3rd of an hour...

July 2006

NEWSPEAK gave a great performance of my new piece (it's actually a rewrite of an old piece, but it's so rewritten that I think I can safely call it a new piece) B&E on July 14th at Tonic in NYC. They played really well and I'm happy to say that the piece went down a storm, so happiness ensued. The sound quality of the recording isn't great, but after a bit of tweaking I thought I'd post up a couple of samples on the sounds page.

It would appear that last month's open letter has done the trick -loads of intriguing new spam. I can only guess my sacrifice was pleasing and that the Gods of Spam (TM) are shining down on me. Gee Willakers!

To change tack again (just in case anyone might think that there is a semblance of order behind this) here are some summer frivolities (because one really should be sitting in front of a computer at this time of year.) Firstly, cheese with a tang? No, no, cheese with a twang. Tates like weird butter.

After a few drinks you make an innocent remark (like: "Hey guys let's write our names in pretzels") and this.

Little by little they're taking down the hetero bricks of the wall that was my TV childhood. Look, I realised a long time ago that people like Frankie Howerd and Larry Grason were gay and I was pretty sure about that bloke from Rentaghost when I was a kid, but even as an adult this came as quite a surprise.

An Open Missive to Uncle Spam (June 2006)

In the past few weeks I’ve been lucky enough to win the Spanish lottery twice in a row (what are the odds?) as well as being tipped off as to some wise African investments. I’ve also been given the nod as to some choice mines in Chile. In other words I’ve been getting some great spam emails. Recently, I’ve been getting used to being offered cheap software and masculine ‘enhancement’ products, but I used to get offered stupendous investment opportunities (couched in uniquely awkward grammar) for a whole variety of things but that stopped for quite a while. Now they’re back. I have no way of measuring this, but have the feeling that I’ve been getting more of the old-school spam emails recently. So much so that I feel that I’m living in the age of neo-spam. It’s just as good as the old spam, but retro (I’m regularly amazed at myself for feeling nostalgic for things that one really shouldn’t feel emotionally attached to.) Well, spam, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but, I’ve missed you. I’ve come to think of you as an acquaintance. Look, we’re never going to be friends (I feel I can be honest here, spammy) but I feel that I’ve taken you in. Once you were an intrusion but now you’re that guy that lives down the hallway who’s just incapable of buying his own sugar. You’ve turned being annoying into being endearing. Thank you spam. Furthermore, I’ve missed the feeling of empowerment and superiority that ignoring that ‘once in a lifetime’ opportunity gives me; I’ve missed my morning dose of smug. Once again, I thank you spam.

Oh, a couple of notes here (just ‘coz I care, spamster): For the newbies: None of my friends are going to send me an email with this subject-line: ‘Buddy some manly advice’. For starters, none of my friends call me buddy, and secondly (and God knows why) but guys tend not to write to other guys with penis advice. Secondly -Sarah pointed this out (and she should know as she gets much more spam than I do) to the old school spammers: a good way of creating suspicion that the rest of your email might be bullshit (well, apart from the ‘once in a lifetime opportunity’ bit, oh and telling me that “they’re drilling for water on Mars…”) is posing as something you’re not. For example, one sure-fire way of making people not believe that you’re all that you say you are is by starting your email: “Good day, I am Peter Don… I am a British”. No. No, you’re not mate…

RIP Ligeti

I've just heard the sad news that Gyorgy Ligeti died today. Obviously time will tell precisely what his legacy is, but he was one of the first contemporary composers whose work I got to know and he defined a lot of what I thought was great about post-war European contemporary music. He was a true original a maverick, and was also responsible for popularising the discovery one of my very favourite composers: Conlon Nancarrow. Perhaps above all, at the end of his life he was still discovering new sonic possibilities and his sense of drama and playfulness puts sets his music apart from that of many of his contemporaries. RIP Ligeti.

May 2006

This has been in grave danger of turning into some bizarre travelogue, so all that stops now. Here are a couple of great sites concerning music: the first I've known for some time and it's a great resource for all things related to the funk mob. I've only just discovered this site, but it's pretty amazing, again a great resource (don't leave the house folks, it's probably on them thar internets!)

Whilst I'm on the subject, I've been doing a lot of reading about Blues, Gospel, Soul and Funk over the last year. I've read some good, books and some not so good books. I've read this (which is ok) and this (which is a good introduction to the funk genre, but doesn't go much further than that) but when it comes down to it, this is the book that really lays it down: A Change is Gonna Come by Craig Werner. I cannot recommend this book enough. It's rare for me to read a factual book and to actually feel like I've learnt something apart from the usual: "Blah-blah-blah was WHOSE uncle? Well I never!" but this book has really taught me a lot of things and has, in some ways, changed the way I think about African-American music in its many forms. To further this recommendation I'm saying all this and I haven't even finished it yet.

April 2006

I was in The Netherlands in April to record/rehearse with Ensemble Klang. It was great to be back working with old friends whom I like and respect and some very good things came out of the session. The project has a long way to go, but I'm happy with the direction it's taking, and of course working with Klang is hilarious and marvelous in equal measure.

Whilst I was in Holland, one night we were taking the last regular train back from Amsterdam to The Hague. As we got to The Hague Central Station, we saw that, as per-usual, the cops had blocked off all the exits (to keep vagrants out, no doubt) and entrances save one automatic door left in the open position. We were a few paces behind a guy that I can only describe as the Dutch bureaucrat type. 50's, bald, grey suit, grey raincoat, briefcase. Instead of heading towards the open door, he decided to go for the automatic door to the right. Boldly he strode, as if the door lead to a balcony below which an adoring crowd was standing to welcome a Caesar laden with the spoils of war. He stopped half a nose's length from the intransigent glass. The door had failed to open! Instead of a casual shrug of the shoulders whilst moving the two feet to the left to walk through the open door, he just stopped. Gradually he slowly bowed his head, and shook it very slowly and very deliberately. His dejection was tangible: The bureaucratic matrix was flawed and he was a damn fool for not realizing it! Gradually he swallowed the bitter pill of reality and sloped towards the salvation of the open door and the Hague-ish night…

I also went to London for a few days afterwards so I was able to catch up with old friends. It's the first time that I've been back to London since 7/7 and I don't know if I was expecting things to be any different, but I was very happy when I saw that they weren't. Good old Blighty, some things never change do they?

TCB, TSA-style (March 2006)

At the airport, as we were leaving Memphis, it really did appear that Elvis had left the building but, no, he reappeared in the form of a TSA guy. He noticed Steve's electric guitar as it went through the scanner and, by the time I got over to them, (I thought Steve was going to get frisked) he was singing Elvis ballads. Uh-huh. He kept on singing the first couple of lines and then saying: 'Gimme another one!' at which point we'd interject with the title of another of the king's ballads. Steve then tried to see this fellow's true potential by asking for up-tempo numbers but unfortunately, for some reason, our airport-security balladeer couldn't manage these. At this point he'd walked us half-way to our gate, and then he dropped the bombshell. He asked us if we thought he could make it as (and I quote) 'The next black Elvis'. We told him that he had potential but that he'd have to be able to do up-tempo numbers. He thanked us and went on his way. Stunned by the surreal nature of the encounter we were left puzzling as to: