Journeys… from first kick, to mastered piece, perhaps… Welcome to this, the first in a series of albums released on burntprogress. This album, as with all future albums, will feature tracks by artists whose music has been heard and developed at CDR: the night of ideas and tracks in the making. From its beginning at the Embassy club in Islington, North London, to the Bridge ‘n Tunnel (RIP), and developing projects in Europe, CDR London is firmly rooted at Plastic People, Shoreditch. It has evolved into a unique platform for the airing of electronically produced ideas that you can be part of, be you a fledgling bedroom producer or established artist, or someone with an impartial and overwhelming passion for new electronic music forms. Myself and co-director, Gavin Alexander have always had the vision to look at ways to develop a scene outside of traditional formats, by sharing experiences and broadening thinking beyond playlists, charts and ‘Big Tune’ syndrome. As listeners, we only usually experience music when finished, or at least we assume it is finished. But someone’s opinion of ‘Hi-Fidelity production values’ is someone else’s ‘Lo-Fi quirkiness’. One producer’s beat with a killer sub kick-drum is another’s ‘loud rhythmic thing interfering with the vocal!!’ - Enough of that!! We live in a time when even an official production master being ‘The Master’ is questionable. Some of which probably don’t even see the light of day! CDR was born out of the need for ideas to form a life outside of an internal hard-drive, about developing confidence in the creation and sharing of the process rather than waiting ‘til it’s finished. Complete. There are many ways to get to complete. What can be learned from the ‘during’? What else comes to the fore? It’s been important for me as a producer and dj to play out tracks that I’m working on: tracks that are not categorically ‘finished’. These vary from something that is ready to be mastered, to a beat-Ioop created by messing with a plug-in I’ve just installed. Either way, I find it quite interesting that whilst playing these ‘ideas’ out – woven between occasional records of familiarity – that, bar the odd snare jumping out in the mix or level discrepancies, the dance-floor head–nods and boogies away regardless. It is only I who know that some of the tracks they are immersed in are sometimes burnt straight off my laptop an hour or so earlier. 1.1 is not a compilation of tracks, beats, compositions or whatever your ‘word’ is. It is an album of fifteen independently produced recordings by music producers whose varying levels of expertise, approaches to production, day job versus creative life balance and levels of music industry encounters, have all crossed paths with CDR and shared their process. Likewise, the exploration of relationships goes beyond the producers. To a brief, the photographers and writers made contact with the artists and just ‘did their thing’, whilst documenting the outcome: a journey, equally prevalent in the burntprogress vision. This album presents a new kind of platform for creatives to share in processes with like-minded individuals. So is the challenge then to maintain one's own creative voice amongst narrow minded mass – market opportunism? See. Listen…. Tony Nwachukwu
Marshmello Blackbird Wash Ya Butt Words: Emma Warren Image: Katinka Herbert arsha Blackbird is a woman of many talents. As well M as producing the future classic 'Wash Ya Butt' in under half an hour on her then-new MPC 2000 XL, she's an all MCing, party-starting, drum-n-dance troupe-running musical polymath. “People employ me to rock a party and I do my best," she says. Oh, and when she's not making tunes or MCing (“Msinging”, as she prefers to call it) for 100% Dynamite or Roots Manuva as MC Marshmello, she runs courses for youths. Recent sessions included taking the prologues from Romeo and Juliet and turning them into songs, running a project in Havering called “Many Ways Of Linkin’” and writing a “survivor play” on ASBO recipients. “I’m looking for a young MC who has gone missing,” she muses. “Her name’s Killa B and she turns up to my projects every now and again. She’s amazing.” Other projects on her bulging CV include tracks with SisaMo as Ladybugz and a slot on Deja Vu every Thursday 6-8. It has, she says, “a nice little following.” ‘Wash Ya Butt’ was recorded in Marsha’s Brixton studio flat. “It’s a small space,” she says, “and the vinyl is taking over.” It kicks off with a small hours phone row before morphing into an Aphex Twin-goes-reggae slice of brilliance. It shouldn’t work, but it does. “The whole thing with it was wondering what would happen if you did get a call like that in the middle of the night – the madness of it all.
The music is the same, the jarringness of waking up to this crazy call.” The tune was made in 2 bar blocks, simply because the MPC was new and she didn’t know how to extend the bars. “I made lots of different patterns with the same groove, then I worked out how to put the bars together. People are always asking me what I was on when I made the tune. That’s just how it worked out.” Marsha grew up in Oval with summer holidays in Buckinghamshire with her grandparents. A slice of time in Croydon was followed by her moving out of home to return to Brixton. She’s now resolutely southside – “I guess that makes me a Londoner.” When the tune was mixed down, Ms Blackbird thought something was missing. Turns out it was the humming noise made from deep within the MPC, an effect known in the trade as ‘demotitus’. Fortunately, she found a way of putting the background hum back in the finished version. “There’s a lot of different bits in the track,” she says, “but it works. It’s totally random, just a feeling, and exactly the sort of music I want to make.” She’s called it the Blackbird riddim, and post-CDR, will transplant it onto 7” as part of her own Sevens Under The Stairs label. The Blackbird is ready to soar. “There’s lots of madness,” she grins. “I’m everywhere.”
Written and Produced by Marshnu Marshmello Blackbird. Mixed by Nwachukwu
Wah Syndicate Madness Gwarnin Words: Zaid Image: Andrew Cotterill Epitomizing the diversity of CDR attendees in one unruly collective, Wah Syndicate make music characterised by multiple strains of influence, their composite noise capable of travelling to as many places as it’s come from. Group members, Elroy ‘Spoonface’ Powell (who’s also part of the group, Ear Dis and runs the Faada imprint) and Michael ‘Kaspa’ Gosling, each talk of upbringings carrying soundtracks of soul, reggae and hip-hop, but third member of the trio, Phil Craig has alternative musical experiences to speak of. “I’ve just come back from Germany playing 18th century English country dances,” he tells. “I’ve never been comfortable in the middle, I’ve got to push the edges,” he goes on, but this seems to be a group approach as much as it is Craig’s personal one. Wah Syndicate’s song, 'Madness Gwarnin' is an appropriately demented event. Sticky keyboard belches and percussion underpinning a crackpot chorus. “It’s broken, it’s jazzy, it’s soulful, and it’s got melodic, cut-man-in-his-face vocals,” expounds Kaspa. Vocals are lesser heard elements in CDR-broadcasted music, but that aside, the track sums up a lot of what’s played there, given its awkwardness to classify. It’s music of this odd sort that reinforces the need for the sessions, as you can’t imagine hearing it in many other places. “I’ve been going to CDR since it was at Bridge and Tunnel - before it became whatever the hell they call it now,” says Spoonface. “We just love the vibe - hot and sweaty and hearing these mad beats and you’re like, ‘who the
hell’s doing that?' even when it’s loud and distorted and not mixed properly. And I’m feeling that. No-one else on the planet’s doing that.” Phil, accomplished pianist, drummer and accordionist, points to CDR’s reception as a measure of its success. “Look at the attention it’s got. People notice it, and it’s more than just a few bedroom DJs. Plastic People was a place I’d heard all about when I was living in Bristol, but to come and hear my own music played there is just amazing. It’s made me, as an engineer, a much better engineer. I’ve learned how to make sounds that I want to hear, because that sound system doesn’t lie. Whatever mistakes you make in the studio, it gets shown up, and you come away knowing exactly what you’ve gotta do. It shows you where you’ve gotta go, it really does.” “CDR’s quite humbling when you get to hear stages of your mix,” agrees Kaspa, recoiling at a memory of seeing a clued-up crowd hearing Wah’s music, uneven and unfinished. “It’s abstract to say the least. You go out for the evening and it’s the same old, same old. But it’s variety you don’t hear anymore.” “It’s a perfect environment for it” says Spoonface. “You don’t feel intimidated or like you’re gonna be booed off. It’s a move in the right direction, especially for a UK scene that has nowhere to go for unsigned and up-andcoming stuff. The Americans take all the glory most of the time. Ultimately it’s just nice to have a homegrown platform for new, fresh music.”
Writtten and Produced by Philip Craig, Michael “Kaspa” Gosling & Roy “Spoonface” Powell
Rex Spence The Republic Words: Ade Bankole Image: Katinka Herbert ”Its a soundtrack to our modern culture” says Rex Spence, whilst explaining his track ‘The Republic’, which has created a tremor of enthusiasm at recent CDR sessions. “I have a very broad musical taste and I was recently re-introduced to some of the music I grew up with - Louis Jordan and Sonny Boy Williamson. My dad is a musician and plays just about every instrument ever made, while my first instrument was the drums, but my main instrument is the guitar.” With ‘The Republic’, Rex has created a tune that flows throughout with a signature pulse that pitches right between a Kraftwerk and DJ Shadow production. A tune built around neatly meshed drums, bassline and melody. “I wouldn’t construct a tune around a loop, it’s my creativity not anybody else’s. I didn’t really use samples on this track, although the keyboard notes were obviously originally from synthesisers and live sounds. It’s up to an artist or composers whether to use sampled loops or not. It’s the end-user who decides if the music is any good or not but in the end, I think sampled loops are restrictive.” And Rex on inspiration? “Anything can be inspirational. A blade of grass or a good or bad day. I always tend to have the whole track in my mind before I sit down and create it in hard form, and usually on the computer as it’s the quickest way and gives the broadest scope, although I started out recording the old fashioned way with instruments, vocalists, blood, sweat and tears.” Rex Spence has, you could say, been around the musical block, including being part of various bands. But he found himself disillusioned with the political framework and red-tape within them,
Written and Produced by Rex Spence
which had nothing to do with the main ingredient. The music. “Nowadays, I hate the fact that it’s about art supplying money rather than money supplying art.” Rex Spence’s tune is full of attitude and personality, pretty much like the man himself. “I created it, so it must be a reflection of me”. Although reluctant to name names, Rex admits to “at the moment” be enjoying the work of fellow producer, Arif Marden and would have relished the pportunity to share the producer’s chair with no other than J.S. Bach! CDR and Rex Spence crossed paths by introduction through a friend and he has only praise for the event. “It (CDR) is an amazing concept because there are no boundaries. It provides opportunities and exposure for real music to get heard without discrimination or the need to fit into an industry model.” So what does the future hold for Rex Spence? “I’d release an album if the right proposition comes along. I have an album’s worth of music in my head right now and have a few developed tracks out already which can be heard on my website www.x-er.co.uk.” ‘The Republic’ does have that priceless quality of being immediately recognisable and admirers of this work will and should be keen to hear more of Rex’s musical vision so naturally the last word belongs to the artist... “Like I said before, for me, ‘The Republic’ is a soundtrack to our modern culture. I wouldn’t like to categorise it because that would be restrictive and ultimately, that can put people off trying something new!"
Spooge Well Words: Emma Warren Image: Richard Okon Stephen ‘Spooge’ Cann has a studio in his loft. When he comes home from a days’ work making satellites and stuff (he’s a radio frequency engineer for Norway’s equivalent to BT) he trips up the stairs to a little musical paradise. Thanks to CDR - and the influence of new-school Norwegians, Lindstrom, Prince Thomas and Tod Terge - as well as Britain’s ex-pat king of edits, Harvey, he’s cooked up a smart musical storm. “I only ever went to (Harvey’s acid house-era residency in Brighton) Tonka once, but even now, it’s a legendary night,” says Cann, who grew up in a village equidistant between London and Brighton. His parents were mad for folk and early ‘70s rock which “didn’t make a great impression, obviously.” Whilst attending college in Southampton, he and a car-load of buddies piled down to the coast to see the aforementioned Harvey, an event which consolidated Cann’s club trajectory - and finished off his teenage dabblings with rave. "I was a bit young for acid house, which was annoying,” he said, “so I first started going out raving for my sins.” Then I discovered house music, which was a fantastic antidote to nosebleed techno.” ‘Well’ was recorded, like much of this album, at home. It is, says Cann, a tune which bodes towards some of his favourite musical heroes. “This tune is more about listening to music than dancing to it. Not everything has to be a raging beat-fest. It’s slow, chuggy, with
Written and Produced by Stephen Cann
double kicks every now and again - very Theo Parrish.” After an outing to CDR, which was kick-started by Cann’s friend badgering him to come and showcase his tune, it was tweaked into the splendour you now hear. “The first version was a bit sloppy, so I tidied it up,” says Cann. “I sorted out the bass and some parts sounded a bit thin, so I fattened it up. I added a few bits after the first airing. When you’re sitting at home on your computer it’s hard to get it right - hear it on a big system and it all becomes clear.” “Production values, he says, “can’t be extolled enough”. For Cann, this means kit, specifically his new MPC 1000. “I used to do all my sequencing via computer and now the timing’s a lot better. Obviously I’d like a huge new computer but I’m happy with what I’ve got up in my loft.” And the artist name? Coined in the pub before his first CDR outing. “I’m a bit embarrased by it, but I’m stuck with it,” he says with a grin. “So it goes.” Aside from new kit, Cann would be happy to see the return of a flesh-and-blood musical inspiration: San Diego-dwelling DJ Harvey. “I heard he owns a hotel in Hawaii because he’s a mad surfer,” says Cann. “I can’t remember the last time he played in London - he’s due a return.” Here at CDR, we second that emotion. And CDR itself? “It’s a real community, both in the club and on the website. And there’s brilliant music. To be honest, I’m amazed no-one’s done it before.”
Dobie featuring Holly Palmer I’ll Be Your Everything (Demo Mix) Words: Zaid Image: Natalie Willer Dobie’s inclusion on this album dismisses the idea that the CDR concept is geared more towards the novice bedroom beatmaker than it is to musicians with years of studio and industry miles. A seasoned producer and remixer for everyone from Gangstarr to Bjork, early experience came with Soul II Soul before forming Nomad Soul with Howie B, whose Pussyfoot imprint later released his solo album, ‘The Sound Of One Hand Clapping’. His latest venture is a label, Magnficent 7, and a new album due for release late 2006. Having started out as a bedroom DJ, Dobie understands as well as anyone the need for a platform for producers with little ground to stand on, especially as there’s an abundance of them now following the explosion in home recording. “Ninety percent of them don’t have an outlet and they can’t get their music played. They’re not in record deals, or no-one’s interested because they’re not a name. It doesn’t mean they make wack music, though.” Enter CDR, a monthly gathering with potential for gainful results disproportionate to the simplicity of the idea. “You can’t really call it a club in the conventional sense because it’s not really that. It’s a bit like a social club in a way. ou don’t have to be up there dancing in the middle of the floor. You get to meet other heads and people get to put a face to the music. What’s also interesting about it is you get to see what’s really going on. I remember when it first started off it was all very ‘broken’, and now it’s changed. You get to see the shift. I can’t really say where it’s shifted to now. Last time I was was down there it was all very housey, quite four-to-the-floor.”
The melange of music that’s aired there, still kind of an anomally within the London music scene recalls an era when genre margins were less obvious. “It can be a bit hard to listen to at times but I suppose it’s how open your head is as well,” says Dobie. “I grew up going to clubs where you heard everything. Warehouse parties in the eighties and stuff like that, and it was a mish-mash, but that’s what made it good. And I think it opened a lot of people’s heads up musically. If you chat to the older heads who’ve been around for a while, they’re into a lot of different stuff because of where they got their schooling.” “You’ve gotta come there with an open mind,” he suggests. “I was down there with this kid the other day, a rapper, and they played one of his tunes and he was so excited. You never know if people are into your shit or not. Then you get it played there and you get a reaction. I think CDR needs to exist. Sometimes it seems a bit disjointed, but that’s because they’re jumping around with so many genres of music. But then again it’s meant to be like that, isn’t it? It can’t help but be that.” Aptly, Dobie’s offering on this album ‘I’ll Be Your Everything’ isn’t easy to categorize. Layers of airy vocals washing over the first four minutes before he decides to turn the drum machine on. “I think it was ‘98 I did it, with an American girl named Holly Palmer. Gavin (CDR) heard it about two years ago and wanted it for this album, but it wasn’t ready. Now it’s out there, I want to see if people can get their heads round it.”
Written by T. Campbell, H. Palmer & M. Benson. Produced by Dobie
First 'Blank CD Flyer’
Daisuke Tanabe ‘Untitled’
Daisuke Tanabe Sand Hill Words: Tony Nwachukwu Image: Natalie Willer In the true words of anyone who utilises technology in their creativity… SAVE WORK IN PROGRESS…OFTEN!!!! The journey of Daisuke Tanabe’s ‘Sand Hill’ is no exception. “I had a disaster with my laptop, the hard drive just died on me! I was in the middle of writing a track, then…. Wrrr, Wrrrr, Kzzz... DEAD!” Luckily, the final version of Sand Hill survived, the data having being burnt to a backup CD prior to this event and given to me to be mixed down in the studio… Thew! Sand Hill was one of three tracks Daisuke brought to his first CDR encounter. Named after it was completed, the title is derived from how it sounds; conjuring up thoughts of dusty, grainy, esoteric ‘Sssshhzzzsizzleness!’ He heard about CDR from a friend and mutual music producer, Harunori. He initially wasn’t going to submit his CD, he thought the quality of what he was hearing was really high and his tracks in terms of production and quality were nowhere near. Haru thought otherwise, and so with a little persuasion, he submitted his CD. Both his and Daisuke’s music have since become a regular creative perspective aired at CDR sessions. Created using a combination of Reason 2.5, Live 3.0, sample snippets from vinyl and self made recordings captured on minidisc,
‘Sand Hill’ started life as the bass heavy, layered synth drone sample at the start of the track and after a few incarcerations ended up an amazing, intricate downtempo journey. A hybrid, a track Daisuke describes as jazzy; not in genre, but in creative influence and writing technique. Daisuke’s working ethos is very much about capturing and developing the creative moment, something also seen in "Untitled", a line drawing he developed over a few CDR sessions, sitting observing people’s reactions to what they were hearing, their interactions with others and decision making whilst listening, waiting. Daisuke hails from Chiba, a city 40 kilometres from Tokyo. He recalls first making music as a hobby at the age of 13, a hobby primarily fed by a Casiotone home keyboard with a built-in sampling facility. His exploration of this facility helped turn what was then a hobby into what has been instrumental in finding his creative voice over the years. A voice also presently nurtured at Art college. He describes the music he makes as a personal soundtrack to his everyday life and emotions. Daisuke has since obtained another laptop and external drive…
Written and Produced by Daisuke Tanabe. Mixed by Nwachukwu
AEB featuring Kate Dwyer Only You Words: Jason Jules Image: Andrew Brown How did you get started? Really don’t know how I got started. My friends were all making music, so I figured I could do that shit as well. So, teamed up with a few heads and started to lay down some tracks and gradually learned more and more. As time went on, making music started to take up more of my time. Had this 9 to 5 gig in fashion for many years, until one day I got this boss lady from HELL!!!!!! She did everything to get me out of the company and then the president of the company finally buckled. CHUMP!!!!! Actually, it was a blessing in disguise. Forced me to really start twisting out some tunes and take music a bit more serious. What do you like most about technology? What I like most about technology is that it makes tingz much easier. Saves a brotha a lot of time. Also, I never really technically studied music. Although, remember I did grow up in the Black community in Philly. That’s a study for its damn self. Is it possible to make soulful electronic music? EZ. I consider myself a rather progressive brotha, so I guess that’s how my music will sound. You got an open invitation to come to my studio and I’ll show you. How does your work interface with hip-hop or black music generally? Well, I make Hip-Hop music as well as other forms of Black music. Also, I guess if I'm Black and I’m producing it then I guess it’s Black music. Whatever form of music I make ur going to feel the Blackness…can’t hide it, it’s jus’ the way my heart beats.
What was it like getting your track played at CDR? You know the feelin’ when you take a sh*t that you’ve been holdin’ for a really longtime...REALLY GOOD MAN!!!!! Love those cats and the whole CDR crew. Do you ever fear the dominance of an ‘electronica’ formula? Really don’t fear that. You know when the electronica formula ain’t workin’ too well or if ur starting to over do it. So, u jus’ make adjustments and use some real musicians or start sampling a ‘lil more. What’s the concept behind the track? Well, been influenced by a few Wach tracks and also into my Detroit techie vibe right now. No real thought-out concept behind it. Had a track and wanted my homegirl Kate to drop a vocal. Kate writes some really good songs and I love her voice. Thought her voice would work well with the track, plus she’s HOT!!!!!!! Is it love your after or just a good time? A good time and if Love enters through that good time I would embrace it and treat it respectfully...THIS TIME!!!!! Where were you when you first heard 3Ft High & Rising? What’s that?...hahaha...nah. Jus’ kiddin’. Bought the cassette tape from Tower Records in Philly when it came out. I drove around the city with my boy Joe and we were trippin’. Sh*t was dope, funny and original. Still have that same tape. It’s funny that you asked that question, ‘cause that’s one thing I remember like it was yesterday. Thanks, but now I'm feelin’ a bit old.
Written by Andrew Brown, K. Dwyer and M. Williams. Produced by Andrew Brown for AEB Productions
Paul Freeth Punchdrunk Words: Sue Bowerman Image: Paul Freeth ‘Punchdrunk’, in its infancy, existed as a five-minute demo on a G3 laptop. The impetus to create, spurred by a CDR session that was to take place a few days later. This work in progress evolved, repeatedly. The evolution from sounds sourced straight from the sample banks of Logic 6.4.3: a drum loop ripped from an unidentifiable 70s funk track, a few more drum loops, keys and finally some acute manual handling to give it a more natural sound, resembled at that stage, a track far removed from the finished product. It is true to be said that the drums were programmed 100% DIY style, with manual shifting of each hand crafted beat (hi-hats, snare, kicks...) to elude a man with sticks and a Ziljian kit. A 17” powerbook snapshot of the present day session data epitomises a Kandinsky print: hundreds of colourful geometrics that defy comprehension to an outsider’s vision. Multiple tracks laid at maximum capacity. The final track’s complex construction and technical complicatedness signify the persona behind the beats, a Mr Paul Freeth. Music has always been his hobby and an outlet free of pre-occupations about what will happen to the end result. More recently, deadlines are complied to with added intent, and partially fuelled by the CDR carrot. “CDR has been around for a lot longer than people realise. It’s given many of us a place to share and grow. I can only tip my hat to the humble understanding they (Tony and Gavin) had to build a community that needs individual and collective vision to make any kind of difference out there.” His other creative endeavours fall within his work as a sound artist and visual designer, a fulfilling career that’s filled his days since studying at Central St Martins. A recent project involved producing, shooting, editing and sound-designing a short film made to inspire children’s views of the world, and hopefully encourage them to see aspects of it, differently. His music certainly provokes one to listen and inevitably think beyond known formulas.
Written and Produced by Paul Freeth
Paul is conscious that he now cares about both where his beats sit within the musical world and how they’re perceived. His ten or more years of live performance as a keyboard player somehow illuminate how programming, and an incessant search for perfection can result in a product he believes to be devoid of that “live thoughtless process and unrepeatable and uncapturable improvisation.” In short, technology diminishes ‘the moment’. A result of programming music can lead to ideas that are put down in a wave of electronic inspiration, but need to be revisited with a human touch at a later time. And that process opposes the magic of collective, spontaneous composition. “You always put a track on the back burner if you know that parts need to be re-recorded, ‘properly’. And then it becomes an old idea. Then to get ‘the sound’, you lose the moment.” In the evolution of ‘Punchdrunk’, his latterly added ‘Fender Rhodes 73 Mark 1’ lines, brought life to the original demo. And to embark on a remedy of incorporating old ideas into new works in progress, the final two minutes of the tune consists of a floating segment that sat in his laptop’s ideas bank and somehow made its way into ‘Punchdrunk’ via a common process of ‘extract an idea, add it to what is there and if you like it, make it fit’. A concluding stamp is his freestyling structure, always devoid of the usual verse chorus verse chorus formula. His cheeky demure always finds its way into the creative journey. Moving to Barcelona almost three years ago has not separated him from the anchor of CDR. Rather than be drawn into despair by “a city which plays host to other people’s music rather than forge ahead with its own,” living in the ‘city of possibility’ seems to have fuelled his commitment to create and contribute beyond his ethereal bubble. Instead of submitting a CDR in person on the night, he emails his beats as MP3s and networks via the burntprogress web-site.
Drea Parks Nice ‘N' Slow Words: Acyde Image: Katinka Herbert Drea Parks had always hinted that she made music… just hints. So we all assumed she was a singer and someday we’d hear these songs. Nobody was expecting the rose that grew from the concrete to bear the smell of beats? It was at a CDR night when the scent of something called ‘Nice n Slow’ came wafting through - all bass, vibes and shocking musical colours. The creator was beaming ear to eardrum as fingers pointed in her direction. Fingers turned to hands and hands turned to applause… Drea Parks was no longer hinting. Two years, one southbound train trek and a forthcoming album later, I’m in Drea’s sanctum: the bedroom come headroom where her most creative conversations take place. A G5 screen blinks blankly, as the bass from an album track rattles round the room. Drea beams. “I bought a G5 as brock as I was, bought Logic Express but I’m still getting used to it so I use Garageband a lot. I have some Logic plug-ins. I use them a lot.” The music is pungent and hypnotic: the culmination of a few light years spent virtual orchestrating Garageband, composing on a basic midismart keyboard and getting tech’ with m-audio firewire solo. Technology is the key to the new folk music, meaning anyone with half a good idea; some iota of talent and a bankful of toys can make a joyful noise. It also helps when there’s a real talent and drive. “I’ve worked in record companies, for magazines, TV companies… but it was all pulling me away from what I wanted to do and I was getting frustrated.” Drea sums up her journey to date. “CDR came into my life.
Written and Produced by Drea Parks. Mixed by Nwachukwu
They (Tony and Gavin) know their music and there was so much encouragement and love there. 3 years ago a mate taught me how to use Logic on a G4 and that’s where it started… I took a few tracks to CDR and they played one of them. People were going mad and I just didn’t know what to do with myself. That was when I decided to keep going with this.“ With a family background steeped in music and live bands, Uncles that toured with Reggae luminaries, Gregory Isaacs and Dennis Brown and a stint as a singer in a soul group, it was inevitable that Drea would come full circle and run laptops loopy with what she calls some ‘electronic jazz dub biznizz’. It’s also inevitable that heads would be shocked by the quiet lady’s loud beats: all bombast bass and a lot of heartfelt singing. “For years I couldn’t even find my voice, I didn’t like my voice. I didn’t have the confidence to put myself out there. But I went through acting classes which lead to singing classes and I finally started to get comfortable with my voice. Now it’s starting to grow and develop. This is me, this is how I sound. I start making music, then I hear harmonies and if I only express half of that, I don’t feel whole. That’s where the vocals come in.” Her inspiration could be a Dennis Brown dub, Omar, or a goddamn hippie band sipping on some Sergeant Pepper, but the output has that unique mix-down of naivety and knowing, more passion than process. “I’ve got some drums at home and I’m starting to think I might be integrating them into my live act. I like the idea of mixing the electronic with the orchestra… violins, strings, horns… a choir. I don’t want to clean up my sound too much, I’m not into that pristine sound, that’s not what it’s about… I like to keep the rough edges.”
Soundspecies Brazilya Words: Zaid
Image: Andrew Cotterill Brothers Henry and Olly Keen derive their alias Soundspecies “from the notion that the universal language of music and sound unites people from any place and connects them as one species.” But to be honest, the quality of their output negates the need for such elongated and grandiose pretentions. Reality is, their productions are altogether more simple than their explanations for them. Each brother’s musical history shares few common strands with the other’s. Henry coming from a background of b-boying, the rave era, “hardcore underground UK dance music” and record shopping. Olly put in time on bass in various bands and was more attuned to sixties and seventies jazz. Working as Soundspecies since 1999, their collaboration is where the mechanical meets the musical, already given a head-start as they come from such wildly different points of influence. Having attended CDR since before it relocated from Bridge And Tunnel, Henry tells of the night’s variety - recalling his early club experiences. “I like to hear diversity in music and you used to hear all types of stuff thrown in in those days." Nowadays there’s not many places where you find that.” Hailing the discovery of CDR as a significant part in their musical development, they’ve adopted an almost scholastic approach to the monthly meeting. “From what I understand this project is about the progession of people’s talents, through coming to CDR,” says Henry. “CDR has definitely given me that motivation, that monthly target to do a track I’m proud of every month.”
Written and Produced by Henry and Oliver Keen
“Generally we’ve been trained to have an open mind. We’ve found a similar philosophy at CDR,” tells Olly. His brother agrees it’s a melting pot of new sounds, one that sums up the progressive mentality of the minority. “There’s a scene in London that’s very open minded - CDR’s part of it. Where jazz and soul are strands throughout but you can take it through to techno and into more organic stuff - improvisation around a main thread. It’s about being open-minded. People that are really hardcore into hip-hop, they might not listen to anything else. Down there (Dorset) they love hip-hop but they also love hearing other kinds of music that draw a similar influence from the hip-hop they’re listening to but takes it a different way. I like that about CDR. One month I’ll take a drum-driven dancefloor thing, then next month it’ll be a purely live jazzy track.” Their song on this album is ‘Brazilya’, a sluggish, spacey, moody house instrumental with thick hi-hats and atmospheric effects. It wasn’t created with CDR in mind but sums up a lot of the music played there, vocal-free and more about what it sounds like rather than what genre it sounds like. “I made it before I even knew about CDR but thinking about it now it does fit in,” ponders Henry, aware this is an ideal starting point for Soundspecies’ releases. “I just hope it’ll be spread globally into the right sort of niches. But really for me it’s more about the pleasure of sharing what we do and seeing people enjoy it.”
Phoenix Black Bling Bling Words: Remi Abbas Image: Andrew Cotterill In the global era, cosmopolitans like Phoenix wear their differing identities with pride. Aided by a welcoming lilt, the Liverpudlian rhymester shapes lyrics perculating with a quiet fury, yet calming in tone. An incongruous mix of different tensions, the calm rage, the compassionate anger – Phoenix lyrics are a deadpan measured delivery that could only have been made from the combination of parts. For starters she has the rich Mersey brogue, for seconds the vivid red ‘fro, suggesting a harder type of funk-rock. “I was looking at myself in the mirror and I thought, listen to my tune and then look at my face,” she offers as explanation of her background. “I love where I’m from, I’d say I’m Nigerian, but I do feel British.” Armed with a languid flow, Phoenix is a mistress of classic rap communication – direct and earnest, yet ripe with a verbal deftness. Her wordplay suggests a bygone era of hip-hop, yet she cites newish school figures like Jay-Z as influences. Rhyming on a strict metronomic beat, ‘Bling Bling’ is minimalist, bare and pure – a backing that sonically echoes the sentiment of her rhymes. A Chemistry graduate, Phoenix’s lyrics boast a certain tidiness. “I’m very old school. For me rap’s all about who you are and where you’re from,” she offers. Science is also a real factor, and element that shapes her artistic process. As science is process lead and disciplined, Phoenix applies this to lyric writing hedging
the lyrics into a sonic form, no verb out of place, all sentences neat. “Everything is cut and dry in science. And in my lyrics I don’t make things too complicated. I write things like 1 + 1 = 2. I don’t like things out of place.” ‘Bling Bling’ is a meditation on hip-hop present. Using old school rhyme tools such as representing your area, lyrical skills and political thought, Phoenix articulates where we are today. The exaggerated materialist culture of global hip-hop is the target. “I just wanted to address the state of hip-hop as it exists now." “Times always change and things always evolve. But I feel that Bling’s gone out of proportion. A lot of it’s negative. I haven’t really got time for that.” In a broader sense, Phoenix is far more of a communitarian. A polymath who is at home with artists from different fields, she can locate herself within different disciplines. She is a lyricist in the broadest sense, locating her style in spoken word or song writing traditions, rather than the battling tradition of rap. But ultimately her inspiration stems from her surroundings, the backdrop of her life. Powered by the need to communicate, she says what she feels blessed to say, she says what’s on her mind. CDR provides an outlet to amplify her thoughts. “If I don’t do music I’m not being appreciative, I’m wasting a talent. Music is something that’s innate within me."
Written and Produced by Samantha Ofoegbu and Benjamin Onyeforo
The Naciente Quartet Lo Siento No Entiendo Words: Jason Jules Image: Richard Okon The best electronic music often comes in the least expected guesses. Take The Naciente Quartet for example: an instrumental outfit with guitars, live drums and not a sampler in sight. Unlike a lot of electronic set-ups, they travel as a unit, loaded with a variety of tastes and interests – from Jazz to British folk, from Brazilian MBP and back to Jazz again. Despite the absence of samplers and drum machines, they managed to fit into the CDR club set very nicely the first time they showed up there. “We hadn’t really read the blurb on the website before heading down there. There’s that whole passage about vocals being encouraged and we’re instrumental, with guitars, and live drums - not samplers and drum machines, says Rob, one-fourth of the group. " I’m glad it didn’t stand out too much though. It was nice to see a few heads nodding. That was my overall impression of the first time we went down there, everyone’s ears were open and listened to the music without preconceptions. Also it sounded very bass-heavy. A rumble in the rib-cage. I liked that a lot. I hadn’t heard it up that loud”. While Stephan, Gavin and Rob had known each other since school days, it wasn’t until meeting the fourth member Ally and going to 'All Tomorrows Parties' in 2001 (curated by the seminal Tortoise) that things began to take shape musically. "It was here that Gavin and I got to know Ally and we all experienced a lot of brilliant music - a lot of which was new to me.
It made me think again about what a band could be like. Stephen, Gavin and I got together once or twice after this and it was just OK. We hadn’t even decided who was going to play what instrument. When Ally moved down to London it just fell into place." It doesn’t take long to realise that they’re not your typical four - piece band. When asked what inspires their music.answers, "the mood of the room maybe, the mood of the individuals therein." Far from being an indication of any creative pretentiousness, it’s a response you’d expect from a band who make contemporary music using classic instruments with a progressive, nonconventional approach. "I think we’re more broadminded than a lot of guitar based bands. Individually we will have our own tastes but collectively I think we share the influence of thick jazzy chords, punk energy, world rhythms, and seventies FM radio rock that makes you go ‘woo'!" Not surprisingly, a band of this nature finding itself in the world of electronic music has a kind of ambivelant relationship with technology "I suppose we may be a bit limited by being a four-piece with a core line up of drums, bass and two guitars. Any additional electronic element added to the live sound would have to be carefully measured and co-ordinated...maybe that’s not what we’re about." Pushing against those limitations without relying on the often too easy escape clause of technology is possibly what makes them so interesting and affords their music such a unique resonance.
Written by Clow, Housley, Molyneux and Smoughton. Produced by The Naciente Quartet
Michael Fentum Crawling Words:Emma Warren Image: Richard Okon Michael Fentum lives in South London. Which explains why he never got to hear his tune ‘Crawling’ when it was debuted at CDR last year. “I brought it down, gave it to Tony (CDR) and had to leave pretty early because I was living in East Dulwich and it took a long time to get back. I guess I didn’t think they’d play it. In typical style, they played it as soon as I left. I love that philosophy of just bringing stuff down. It doesn’t have to be polished, it’s all about throwing ideas around, to have all that unfinished, unsigned music in one place is incredible.”
He's recently finished editing the FX on the postproduction of the cinematic version of Doom. He began making music when he was 22, “playing around on a cheap PC and Fruity Loops." Last March, he released a track on Traum’s Intercontinental Volume 3 LP, but put a self-made stop to his musical route. “I just stopped because I kept getting to the same point. I’d run into a brick wall of not having the musical knowledge to progress.” His solution? Not to throw it all into the air, but to go back to basics and learn piano.
‘Crawling’ was built in Fentum’s home studio on an old PC, a version of Logic Audio, a drum station, a few effects and a killer guitar riff. The tune, he says, is “a bit rough around the edges” and the original of it is also locked away somewhere on his old computer which he has “no chance of getting back again.”
“It’s slow stuff but it’s worthwhile. I’m not so freaked out when I look at keyboards. I know what goes with what – and what doesn’t.” Now that he’s got to know the black and white ivories better, Fentum is back in front of his gear and is DJing for Traum over the summer. His musical tastes, he says are evolving and his latest output has more electro flavours than ‘Crawling’.
So... CDR. “You can’t buy what you’ve got at CDR, the possibility to play stuff that’s unfinished. If you’ve finished a tune but you think it needs a bit more, it’s the ideal place to get inspiration. It’s a great place for ideas.” In the daytime, Fentum is a sound engineer, working freelance on movies and video games.
Written and Produced by Michael Fentum
Some things, however, don’t change: he has moved up a level with equipment, switching to Mac and Native Instruments’ software including the Pro 53 and FM 7 but hasn’t been happy with his drums (“not enough punch.”) So for whatever style of musical delights that Fentum digs up in the future, it’ll be with the aid of a good, old-fashioned drum
Aaron Jerome Blue Lotus Words: Sue Bowerman Image: Katinka Herbert SB: Is your PC that bad? AJ: Yep! I paid about 200 quid for it, put in the parts myself… I’ve had it for about 4 or 5 years now. I have been pondering on the journey that has taken someone who spent summers sat upon his father’s tractor, trudging up and down wheat fields in the Cambridge countryside adorned in wellies, to the someone who sits in front of a past-its-sell-bydate PC day and night, designing web-sites and making tracks of another kind. The fresh air served him well, so it seems. I can’t imagine he gets much these days. They, on average consist of a full day at IF Music, the small but special record shop in Greens Court, London, W1, designing and updating the shop’s web-site, (amongst others) tending to customers online and in person, and continuing his ever evolving musical absorption. He takes particular notice of genres, defining genres, defying genres. He notices that in the growth of CDR, "there seems to be a rising bar of the disparate musical genres.” This eqates to, “there’s lots more musical genres being played now, strange and niche genres, which is a good thing!” So for a man who has a keen ear for sound, where does his tune fit into the genreometer? “Blue Lotus doesn’t really sound like broken.” But the beat is not house or four-on-the-floor or your standard off-beat runnings. “The drum beats are much more like a hiphop/jazz break speeded up to 130bpm. It’s more about the atmosphere, spatial, spread out, grabs people’s imagination. You can play it in your car and it works without vocals” remarks Aaron, in his thought provoking way. Where vocals are concerned, his preferred method of production is to work in synchronisation with a vocalist, rather than ‘feature’ them. This way, he can pass on an idea to them, let them whirr a little, but rather than unleashing just their own interpretations, he ensures
Written and Produced by Aaron Jerome
a mutual understanding of his vision, avoids disappointment and maintains control by working in tandem. ‘Blue Lotus’ is a ‘vocal-less’ tune and in keeping with his protocol, a samplefree creation. Jerome is a believer in self-crafted instruments, as long as they are devoid of time-wasting knob-twiddling sound searching gadgetry. Sounds travel direct from his brain to the page via MIDI so to speak. Aaron’s main piece of kit is the aforementioned self-built PC. It is 5 years old and stores around 80 GBs of data. It crashes, frequently. He works almost exclusively in midi files, because recording a vocal line, for example, may take multiple attempts to succeed without stuttering, or corrupting. Not so good for capturing the moment. Consequentially, Aaron’s tunes are at present, vocally sparse. This PC cannot run multiple plug-ins. It loses one’s work at the crucial moment. Often. We must acknowledge the likes of Mr Jerome who complete and release tunes with the barest and most unreliable of tools. For those who take for granted their computer’s extraordinary CPU capabilities, 120 GB internal hard disk space, limitless external storage gadgets, running of multiple plug-ins and joy in pushing the technological boundaries of the machine, there is a lesson to be learnt. Some people do not know what it is to embark on the creative process devoid of technical strangulation. Mr Jerome appreciates the simple technological advances he has so far been blessed with. “A few years ago, I worked with two GBs, now I have about 80. How did I ever live with only two GBs of disk space?!!!” Since this interview took place... the PC has been replaced with an Apple Mac G5.
Richard Brown Mr Vertigo Words: Sue Bowerman Image: Natalie Willer Two Housing Officers working for Waltham Forest local authority met one day. Years passed, they re-met, and from that meeting and a four-hour studio session came the Richard Brown Project. Its co-producers are Richard Brown and Bruno Bridge: two Walthamstow residents. One born and bred, one recently relocated. It is here, that the partnership in production takes place. Upon entering Bruno’s studio, a room which in theory should be a ‘living room’, a carefully laid out arc of sound modules welcomes me. Headed towards a sofa placed against the opposing wall, I accept the offer of a cup of tea and take position. From left to right, my peripheral view begins with a chrome flightcased rack, complete with cover firmly protecting its contents and I assume, wrongly, that what is stored safely within, is redundant. Racked and ready for use are the MPC60, RSF Cobalt monophonic synth, Roland JD990, Drawmer Masterflow digital limiter, Syntechno TV303 and Chase Bit 01 rack. Then there’s the Sherman filter bank, Korg Wavestation, Alesis 3630 compressor and Power Mac 9500 (with a G3 upgrade!). To its immediate right, cellophane clings preciously around the perimeter of a Soundcraft Ghost analogue desk. Not forgetting the Quad amplifier and PMCLB1 monitors, the Wurlitzer electric piano and Oscar complete the view. Bruno has mastered each of the afforementioned components and made himself poor in the process of their acquirement. There is not a cable in sight, bar the one which the wheel of Richard’s chair rolls over, provoking Bruno to tactfully point this out and speedily tidy it away. Richard leaps for the Wurlitzer, bangs out a few riffs, apologises for the diversion and resumes the conversation. The tune in question is ‘Mr Vertigo’. It begins on a sustained string. The 6/8 drums set the feet luring rhythm followed by the Rhodes soft synth and the double kick drum. Next up, the strings hook, that ensures unforgettability. Last up, the ‘aggressively’ lively bass. An explanation is required at this point, because the technical processes applied are done so like a scientist in a lab. Bruno is especially partial to the remedy of “an analogue synth using only one oscillator, ensuring a clear
Written and Produced by Richard Brown & Bruno Bridge
tone and a bass line that cuts though at the bottom end.” Bruno continues. “The addition of an acid box style Roland TB303 and big pitch bends tweeked by filters to create multiple tones, round off the lower end.” This scientific methodology is prevalent in all of their productions. So back to ‘Mr Vertigo’. It moves and flows. Breakdowns surreptitiously appear and you get the impression you know where the tune is going. But from nowhere, at 3:38, the certainty stops. And it continues to. I am told that this particular segueway merged and morphed after an inspired night at CDR. In response to the display of dance floor euphoria but a sense of something missing and desire to defy mainstream regulations on tune structure, the track took another diversion and the addition of 909esque drums, a Richard Brown trademark. Think early 90s Aphex Twin! Both Bruno and Richard were rooted in the classical world in their early learning years, training they both cherish. Through age and development their expressive realms have become more diversely subjected. They have combined talents in keyboards, guitars, analogue instrumentation and generic musicianship. Richard tends to be the ideas man. He sets the direction and then collectively they run with it. Bruno’s arrangement and mixing expertise come in at that stage. His aural tendencies lean towards modern classical French experimentalism, Jazz, Joe Zawinul and Bach. Richard is the collector of all things soulful. His musical journey was clearly influenced by the emergence of a certain Mr Peterson, back in the day. His musical participation travelled through the roles of musician to music listener to raver and back to musician. His reasoning for the return to musicianship is simple. “I started making music ‘cos CDR come about“ he interjects excitedly in his best Leyton lilt. “I’m fortunate to be doing music. Fortunate to be working with Bruno. And fortunate for having CDR.” He speaks to people five days a week about tunes, has a passion for online record shopping and in tandem, they most definitely keep their finger on the pulse.
Adam Regan @ Leftfoot, Ade Fakile and all at Plastic People, Anat Cerebaunm, Andrew Missingham, Andy @ Fuji, Benji B, Benoit @ Point Ephémère, Camilla McGibbon, Carl @ Playstation2, Chachakangourou, Chloe, Christophe, Phoebe and all @ Otherkind, Chris Belgrave, Chris Springhall, Danny, Rosie and all @ Kudos, Dave Farrell, Dave Gadsen, Dayo, Dean Ricketts, Dessi Stoitcheva @ The British Council, Dilip Harris, Dougal Perman @ Radio Magnetic, Drew Hemment & Eliza Tyrrell @ Futuresonic, Ellen Cumber @ La Viande Gallery, Fany @ Le Pulp, Frank @ Mau Mau, Gavin & Russ @ Plug ‘n Play, Gavin Fraser, Gilles Peterson, Seren Seaborn and all @ The Exchange, Ivan @ DS Music, Bulgaria, James Burkmar, Alan James, Nike Jonah & Samuena Sesher @ Arts Council of England, Jean-Claude @ If Music, Jess Tyrrell, Joe 90 @ Future Boogie, Joe Barnes, John Kiefer, Jonah Albert @ The V&A, Jude Kelly, Collette Bailey & Aaron Cezar @ Metal, Karen P, Kelvin & Jon @ Eyes Down, Laura Clunie, Mary Gaudin , Maya Vitkova , Maud Hand @ Ideas Factory, Niki Butchart, Pamela McCormick, Paul @ Cactus Jazz, Paul Bradshaw & everybody @ SNC, Paul Roberts & all at Freerange Media, Paz, PRS Foundation, Quinton Scott, Ranx, Ricky Boyd , Roberta Cutolo, Ross Allen, Sav @ Nuphonic, Selom Amoa-Woode, Tanis Taylor, Thomas Delamarre, Frederique Mendhi, Anne-Laure Belloc @ Fondation Cartier pour l’art contemporain, Tim Harbour, Tim Jones, Tommy Perman, Tony @ CETA Imaging, Trevor Blackman @ FYA, Victor Miller @ Nu Skool, Virginia Bach, Zoe Stafford, and all the headz from around the world who have supported CDR with their passion & works in progress!
Album Production Project Management Project Assistant Art Direction Graphic Design Legal Mastering Writers Photographers Executive Production
Tony Nwachuwu Gavin Alexander Livia Rao Tony Nwachuwu Miriam Hempel Rodney Borde-Koufie Graeme Durham at the Exchange Acyde, Ade Bankole, Emma Warren, Jason Jules, Remi Abbas, Sue Bowerman, Tony Nwachukwu, Zaid Andrew Cotterill, Katinka Herbert, Richard Okon, Natalie Willer Gavin Alexander and Tony Nwachukwu
burntprogress ltd PO Box 48716 London E1 1HL E: cdrw@burntprogress.com W: www.burntprogress.com
AJ Kwame, Alex Gray, Alfie Dooso, Ali @ Warm, Anthony Ofili, Barry @ Solar Radio, Beatnik, Bernard Meslin, Charlie Dark, Chris Ofili, Chris & Jules Vagado, Christiaan @ Rushhour, Christiano Spillati, Christine Leach, Conrad Kemp, Dan Jordan, Damian Delepliere, Dan Harrington, Deepart, Devon Daley, Dwight Clarke, Fiona Mahon, Franck Arnaud, Hamish Anderson, Icebox, Jaymz Nylon, Jeremy & Emma Forster, Josie Willey, Kaoru Mfume, Kate Theophilus, Lakuti @ Sud, Leroy Smith, Lorna Clarkson, Lou Rhodes, Malik Williams, Marco Scarpelli, Mark Cremins, Mark Pritchard, Matt and Rob @ Scratch, Max Cole, Mel Abrahams, Michael Reinboth, Michelle Allen, Mike and Spence @ Goya, Naomi Filmer, Pauline Grant, Phil Ransom, Phil Young, Rafael Rashid, Rajinder Sagoo, Randolph Matthews, Matt 'Recloose' Chicoine, Richard Decordova, Richie Pitch, Roger Robinson, Sam Campbell, Sam Freeman, Sarah Weatherall, Sean McAuliffe, Sonar Kollektiv, Spacek Crew, Spry, Steve & Glen @ Rocketscience, Stuart Taylor, The J.A.W Crew, Tic, The Redbull Music Academy, Torsten, Many and Christopher @ Yadastar, Trevor Goodchilde, Trevor Jackson, Uche Uchendu, Uzo Oleh, Wayne Blythe, Wunmi