Archive for ‘drivel’


Evenings & Weekends on The Workday?

Consume more things!

Positive procrastination is a process with which I am very familiar. It is a cosy action whereby one focuses on something they want to do at the expense of something they really ought to be spending their time doing.

I’ve been doing that a lot of late. Thankfully, I have reasoned that doing some sound-oriented stuff earlier in the month allows me to spend the latter half of the month doing all of the stuff I promised to have done earlier in the month.”To a higher standard”, I promise. (Not the sounds, of course, as they don’t get ranked hierarchically, right?)

Betwixt a very busy period in work and life, I have just about found the time to make a two part series for September: Evenings & Weekends and The Workday. The former sold out very quickly, but there are still copies left of the latter. As ever, all freely available to stream and download etc. All donations warmly received. These ivory towers don’t build ’em sens, ya know.


June and July

Screen Shot 2014-07-29 at 19.06.14

A busy few weeks hath been had yonder hairdryer excommunication. Gigs at Electric Knife (London, which also was a weekend of much frivolity and joy…) and Audacious Art Experiment (Sheffield), recording in Shipley, meals in Leeds, further recordings sessions in the celestial homespace of Bath and a radio show courtesy of Muhmur Sound Art.

The radio show featured an hour or so of exclusive material plus the recent TST release on Sheepscar Light Industrial. Quite a bit was recorded specifically for the show as it was such an honour to be invited. Hopefully it didn’t fall too far short of the bar. Please feel free to check out the show and let us know what you think. (Some of the material may very well be made available in the not too distant future.)

On the theme of new material, a new TST release comes via this very source. ‘The spoken truth’ is a vaccum of space crust. Refined minimalist recreations and slovenly filtrations of debris. Lovely oozes of analogue synthesisers hold their own for 18 minutes or there abouts, just long enough to wet the proverbial whistle.

Right, I’m sure there’s a ton of other stuff. We’ll get around to updating you all on it soon. Especially you.


Other grasses


Well, I didn’t really see this coming. You see, following a recent jaunt to the south west, I’ll be moving there. I’ll be upping sticks and moving from Huddersfield, West Yorkshire to an as yet unidentified part of Bristol in just over a month. Having lived in Yorkshire since 2001, when I moved to sunny Sheffield to study English, geographically (as much as anything else) this is quite a change for me.

My tenure of Sheffield’s pastures, of which I dwelled yonder Sharrow, Banner Cross, Crookes and more in between, ended for similar reasons as I realised I needed to get a job that wasn’t in retail. This eventually led to a move over the county border line in 2008, to Leeds for a full-time post in an academic library. After a few years, there was then another move from the urbane life of Sheepscar to the plains of Greenhead Park in Huddersfield for a different position in yet another institution.

So, all of this meandering through Yorkshire has, broadly speaking, largely occurred to facilitate work. “Work” dominates much of life in contemporary society in an incredibly multifaceted and subtle manner. We don’t seem to be able to tacitly identify what is and isn’t part of our labour as the intra-subjective dependencies cross lines and blur, but the technologies of self and their relationships with organisations are not something I want to raise at this point; I’m trying to keep it light. However, working within academic libraries as both an assistant and as a librarian, which is something that I have done for a while now, has given me some incredible experiences and insights into institutional and organisational structures, their purposes and efficacies.

The multiple and contradictory subjectivities that these dynamics have presented have caused a range of of tensions from my perspective, and ultimately, they have contributed to my seeking to a full-time position to do more of the sorts of things that I am ‘qualified’ to do and to be more actively involved with more projects (like the recent Radical Library Camp!)

And so it occurred. An interesting opportunity arose at the University of Bath, I applied, I was interviewed and was fortunate enough to be offered the post. With no hesitation, I accepted it, and now I’ll be moving to the south west in a few weeks. Exciting times indeed, although there are of course plenty of things that I will miss: Excellent colleagues at my current employer to whom I am eternally grateful for their inspiration, knowledge and support (and all the beers!), the broad range of weirdo yocal waifs-n-strays that I’ve met, watched, played with and annoyed with half-cut realisations of drones and zoundz, Radio Free Midwich, the cats of Yorkshire, the pals, the neighbours that have dealt with me, the beards of fine men, the bus trips to ikea, rhubarb, Henderson’s Relish, the social centres, TPE, the beers and an awful lot more.

Once the stresses of moving have been endured, hXe will continue as normal, but with a new home. A home where cider is the default beverage of choice and where I can’t navigate home an autopilot from wherever I happen to be. This is going to be troublesome, I expect.


Redacted enunciations

Big Uke

Big Uke

With summer’s bleach poured, some bluer hues were found tied off and adrift somewhere near the border line between South and West Yorkshire, possibly between Penistone and Denby Dale.

They followed me home, and I looked after them for forty minutes before they suddenly expired. They showed signs of life, briefly (twice more) thereafter, but ultimately petered out shortly after.


Singing. Not near a cot. (Nor a pram.)


So, Rob and Anne Hayler are having a child. A baby. (I hear they are small. I do not have one, I don’t believe.)

Like a wise man, I come with a gift. The gift is song.

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Recent protestations


01/02/13: Finish work early, meet library people in pub. Had a pint of Marble’s Dobber at The Grove before jumping over to The Rat & Ratchet for a couple of Brooklyn’s Chocolate Stout. I forgot that is 10% ABV. Oh well.

02/02/13: #shefflibcamp at Sheffield Hallam University. Then to the pub before the saltiest tofu I’ve ever been near was consumed, followed by berating top people.

03/02/13: Bad start to the day. Chamomile smile added before playing The Audacious Art Experiment’s space. Murray played under the moniker Tepeu Q’uq’umatz, it was grand. Spandril was a total curveball. Very intriguing. My set was short, but functioned. I had to bail early so missed most of it.

12/02/13: Milo, everyone’s favourite favourite visits “tarn.” Introduced him to the joys of some local establishments, and he duly repaid this by introducing me to Ain’t it a shame by The B52s. We danced.

13/02/13: Remembered that I’m not much of a dancer. Pascal put on a mighty fine show. My set was functional. Pete Cann’s set was loud and great fun. (Wobbling metals can never fail.) Joincey’s set was predictably brilliant. Then I had to bail to get the train.

15/02/13: Dave Pattern braved the wonders of SWB’s wonderful Caol Ila infused beer. Groovy times. Went to Wakefield. Milo introduced me to Fernende’s. Good spot. He had scored us VIP to the opening of a show he was installing at the Hepworth. Free wine. Free Prosecco. I bailed on Leeds to get to bed.

16/02/13: Reconfigure myself to weekend mode. It has not been in use for some three years. Feels good. Checked the gear following recent shows. It sounded like this:


Catching up, post-ha(s)te

Prepping for Extreme Rituals, I made time [I did not “make time”] to create the ‘Ancient Western Hebrews’ End of fun 3″, as promised.

Also, I have created eleven copies of a mysterious c36 (by ‘Petals’,) Thread dome. The b side of this tape is on the Ilse’s benefit compilation which I urge you to buy. The a side is weird analogue electronics and tape crumble. Dead happy with this one.

Both will be available from 29/11. Oh, and SLI will have the remaining copies of the Daniel Thomas & Kevin Sanders collaborative cdr, which has received praise at both Radio Free Midwich and Idwal Fisher.


“Is she singing the trumpet?”

Following that dash to Leeds station, the ‘Ancient Western Hebrews’ regrouped over a few ales (at The Grove and HDM respectively,) a portion of chips a piece and a celebratory viewing of The Shining. The lads the brought their subdued brains to the boil in hXe’s hallway.

This is what happened.


Halfway to the start of the ending

Now, if anybody can spot the anachronsims here, I’d be appreciative of notifications. For I have been down south, to a place with green pastures, to a place that nobody knows. The locum, I forget the name of which, saps the matter from your brain.

Inculcated with their ways,  I sat by the road side and ate some bread, for I had missed the opportunity to multiply my being.

After the sun coated me in a red-tenderness, and after resting me weary ways, I did open a bag, and I did pitch a tent (and I believe this tent was mine, although I cannot confirm this at present.) I was surrounded, immediately (as it happens) by a gang called the Waitrose Warriors. They crucified gin with some rather aromatic cigarettes. They sang two songs. On loop. But they continuously morphed everything by the virtue of something called ‘Ketamin,’ (which I took to be a noun of some sort:) “I wanna be your wonderwall / After all, I’m your dog” or words to that effect.

Managing to side step these warriors through the tunnel that I’d dug underneath my tent and into the woods, I joined a group of traveling folk who were face down in the dirt. One of them (his name was Seth, or Sef, I couldn’t quite tell) was scraping a bucket and fingering the air for sounds. The birds clapped their wings to his attitude, but I just joined the remainder of the gang, face down in the dirt.

I then found myself with a cassette machine, thrashing Bees out of every corner of a barn. It was fairly scary, so I refreshed my palette with some local delight that was served in a clear plastic unit that they called a ‘pint’. I blank out here, but the  document at the bottom of this post was positioned in my top pocket when I awoke in a car with a small person to my left. She called for my death, and I waited. I waited and waited. I wriggled into another seat. I slumped again. With some bread, and I drank my own sweat as I stumbled into the abyss.

I have some small cuts on my right hand, and this is all I know.


Retrogressive acknowledgments; or the future updated

Just a quick note to, well to notify you that the Preconcerted tape is now going to be packaged in a similar way to the previous petals release, Another black/red box, which is still available. This is because all of the folders (like the one in the photograph above) with slides have been used for now.

If I get my grubby paws on anymore, these will be used again. If I don’t, then they won’t… you have to be quick these days.

Big thanks to Steve at Muhmur HQ for the very kind words!