From High Down to Huygens, it's been exciting (not to mention a nice surprise) to see the new collaboration between Electronic Sound magazine and globe-spanning field recording project Cities and Memory. The new issue features an interview with Cities and Memory founder, Stuart Fowkes, along with a few picks from previous releases and I'm really pleased to say that Huygens is one of them (along with the original sound source for additional context)! The bundle edition comes with an excellent double CD compilation too. 

You can pick up a copy here, via Bleep, Magalleria, Norman Records and Underground Solu'shn or read more over at the Cities and Memory website.

Today marks a year since BLACK ARROW was released. This article from Mark Brown was something I read early on when researching more about it, which gives a good overview of the kinds of topics covered in the conversation with Marlene and probably best describes many of the ideas I wanted to explore further around this small chapter in the history of space and satellites. It talks about unrealised futures, the relief from several people who worked on it at pivoting to space-focused projects from missiles and the idea of quiet work instead of aggressive mythology building.

Worth mentioning perhaps that it's in a quiet time that I've written a companion piece to BLACK ARROW (this time focusing on Prospero) that I hope to be able to share soon before moving onto album pastures new. Additionally, working on music that's a bit different to normal has provided me with some really excellent samples to meddle with (thanks and sorry to Glass Grave whose guitar parts for those releases are being rinsed across the forthcoming synthier ouvre at the moment too) so expect to hear more noise in with future electronics!

There's still a free extract of BLACK ARROW up here if you missed it the first time around too, so grab it while you can.

P. S. The photograph is courtesy of the folks at The Needles Old Battery, who were kind enough to show me their High Down archives and files.

P. P. S. If, for whatever reason, you've always wondered what BLACK ARROW would sound like as test card music in a big band style, you'll want to see the latest goings on here.

Potentially your city, even, depending on where you're tuning in from. Anyway, nice to hear In Your Neighbourhood get a little play here whilst I'm working on some new bits and pieces.

Also, on the subject of synth cities, if the idea of owning a wall of vintage synths appeals but storage is a problem, then these might be the answer. They are made by a graphic designer called Ronaldo Lopes Teixeira Rolt and I love them. Check out the gallery (including a mini Space Echo) or watch one of my favourites, the D-50, below, complete with related soundtrack!

Orange you glad you took some time to read this blog? Because Youth Ascension, from the album with the fright-filled front, is on Resonate's staff pick playlist for February. You can listen to this month's top of the co-op pops here.

Start your weekend listening with our February 'staff picks' playlist 🎧 link in bio 👆#resonatecoop #playfair #ethicalstreaming #digitaldignity #musiccooperative #stream2own #futureofmusic #staffpicks pic.twitter.com/UB0NuxnllC

— Resonate (@resonatecoop) February 19, 2021

Additionally, if you've been following a lot of the recent discussion around streaming and you're wondering about alternative ways of listening, I've now added several links on Twitter to folks rethinking the current offerings. Sweet streams are made of this, etc.

When everything has felt firmly glued to the spot (and the sofa at certain points), I'd like to say thank you to everyone who joined me for a trip into space, with a special nod to Wavegirl, Simon and The Joint radio show (already well into 2021) for their kind end-of-year words and airplay. It's been really lovely and encouraging to read.

Best EP of 2020:

Roberta Fidora - Black Arrow

This is a work of stunning beauty from beginning to end, coupled with the artwork... wow!
I really can't wait to see what Roberta has in store for next year. pic.twitter.com/Nkjqt908vM

— Simon Pott (@isinvisible) December 31, 2020

I'll conclude by saying that this year has been akin to digital mudlarking; trying to find little curiosities or pieces of treasure buried within something that looks pretty grim. Here are two such treasures I've enjoyed reading this year. One from the beacon that is The Creative Independent and the other from Huck Magazine, interviewing Ian MacKaye. Wishing you a Happy/Better New Year.

Set your radios to hum, because it's time for another instalment of The Dark Outside (the broadcast where you could hear anything from an acid banger to a particularly beautiful washing machine), this time as part of Aerial Festival. Join in here and listen out for something about top secret rocket documents or that sounds like wind whistling through island deckchairs. You can also follow along on Twitter as you listen.

Photo shared by Pete Warren.

In case you missed it (or I did), I was delighted to talk to the audio production platform SoundGym about budgie heads, flamingos and also non-bird-related matters, like how I like to work through songs and recounting my time imitating PJ Harvey at college. The bird is the word (and also a bit of a nerd) here.

This week I've been getting on my soap box Derbyshire because 'Retrophonica' is now bleeping and blooping out in the world - you can listen to the full release below.

Enjoy a review of my "swirling synths" and "strong architecture" via ANTI Music here, in addition to a track-by-track listen on Yeah I Know It Sucks, where I may well have been betrayed by my gothic past. Additionally, here's an article about Wendy Carlos I found really interesting prior to contributing, which beautifully articulates some of the misgivings that I've seen or experienced around electronic music. There is also some crossover with this excellent Tara Rodgers essay, which I very much enjoyed reading, about synthesizer politics and a largely unheard area of electronic music history.

Speaking of unheard histories, the vinyl copies of BLACK ARROW have now arrived and they look incredible! You can order a copy from the website or via Bandcamp now (limited to only 300 copies). On that note, I'll conclude by linking to some thoughts about Bandcamp; some mine but mostly other, more eloquent explanations. Perhaps it's idealistic or naive, but I'd like to think that the confusion or anger around how much larger companies have operated and treated their listeners/makers in such a fragile environment could be channelled into something more conscientious and useful longer term. I am also trying not to imbue my own nostalgia or present opinion into any of this, but the places and eras I associate with active music listening and participation have felt the most joyous to me and I know my own world would be a lot more grim had I not received tape mixes made by friends, or read blog articles which enthuse over insanely niche or place-specific details, or had my tracks played in a dark forest to a few radio enthusiasts. I hope it doesn't alienate anyone to talk about why I feel let down by streaming platforms, why I no longer give a shit about monthly listeners and highlight where I think people are offering better alternatives or making positive suggestions (even if there are no definitive answers), I just want to support ideas which encourage creativity, sociability, mutual support and the excitement of building your weird project out of nothing, without competitive metrics and where it can return to some form of sustainability.

Okay, time to step off the soap box.

Last year (or what feels like another 50 years ago), we celebrated the moon landing anniversary, an event that has inspired countless retellings and re-imaginings through television, film, design and song. A historic occasion that gave people the opportunity to imagine little pieces of the universe for themselves, to ponder what else might exist beyond our planet and where we imagined belonging to another, better future than the one we have now. 

So imagine my surprise when, in 2018, I stumbled across a rocket casing shell at a tourist attraction on the Isle of Wight, just across the island from where I live.

Even moreso when this discovery then led to a hangar just outside of the large village of Lake (with Wikipedia page highlights that include two funeral parlours and a branch of KFC) that just happens to house a replica of a BLACK ARROW rocket being built by enthusiastic volunteers and retired engineers from a local Men in Sheds project. This is the place of sand bottles, wax nightmares, coastal erosion and Donald McGill postcards, apparently, and yet, it has a rich space history that hardly anyone knows about. It turns out that I no longer have to imagine my own piece of space; it's on my doorstep (or rather, a short number 3 bus ride away). 

In the aforementioned retellings of our space history too, what I've mostly noticed, are the archival voices of American astronauts, the distinct "Mid-Atlantic English" of bygone announcers or men in white coats and many top down accounts of history that I'm already familiar with. It's unusual to hear the voice of someone who, say, worked on the project as a seventeen year old rocket engineer and her contribution to an important space project like BLACK ARROW, but that's exactly what I want to hear, given that at the same age, I wasn't doing much outside of my embarrassing Robert Smith cosplay, let alone achieving something extraordinary like getting a satellite into orbit. I wish I'd seen more encouraging stories like this and known about the south coast's proximity to the cosmos much earlier.

Which brings me to BLACK ARROW as an EP. Whatever is going on in the world, it's important to document your culture and to find interesting stories which might not get told outside of mainstream channels and amplify them in whatever way you can*. I interviewed Marlene Irving in the second half of last year where we talked about her experiences working on the project and the legacy of BLACK ARROW, which is personally one of the most exciting things I've ever been able to do. The development and launch of BLACK ARROW, from an small island at the bottom of the UK, to the other side of the world in Woomera, Australia, is an achievement that I think deserves to be recognised all these years later and I feel fortunate to have a part in continuing the story and documenting an incredibly unique perspective on it.

I hope even in the midst of chaos, you'll listen in and celebrate one of many unsung voices of our space and engineering history.

Blasting off for now.

*Emma Warren's 'Make Some Space' is a great read on this subject. I highly recommend it!

Exciting to see the Cities & Memory #SpaceIsThePlace project receiving support from The Guardian, The Quietus, Bluedot Festival and even the European Space Agency. The long-running field recording project brought together artists from all over the world to rework sounds from space in celebration of the anniversary of the Apollo 11 mission and I contributed a track called ‘Huygens’ which uses an alien weather signal as its foundation.

The picture above is a small disc that was left behind from the Apollo 11 mission to the moon containing messages and sounds of goodwill from Earth. It has a fascinating story which you can read about here.

I’ve been sending secret synths in to this for a number of years now and still get a surge of pure joy from seeing not just my own name, but a sprawling community of the weird and wonderful who will all, for a short time, populate the forest.

With conversations forming around algorithmic bias and the skewed payment models of larger streaming services, what viable alternatives are on offer for musicians and listeners?

Journalist and filmmaker Hazel Sheffield explores one such option, Resonate, which also includes a few of my thoughts on sustainability, streaming and inviting audiences to participate, rather than consume. Read it via The Independent.

Pretty pleased with my pumpkin carving efforts. Really realistic.

A selection of space-themed records from the Collectors Weekly Tumblr.

Turns out that I only live a few minutes away from a real-life version of The Stars, Like Dust. There’s an extensive article here about the Isle of Wight’s role in the space race, which is amazing and kind of weird.

Worth a read/view too, is this incredible project by Katayoun Dowlatshahi, which was based on the above discovery about rocket testing on the island. 

Thanks to Joe from Horseflies for the link!

I also saw a 1940s robot made from part of an RAF Bomber radio set, among other things.

Sorry I couldn't be at The Great Escape, I was too busy squealing with delight at old signs in a bus museum.

An unexpected plot twist.

An image taken from an upcoming book of famous photographs recreated in miniature, which I read about today on @atlasobscura. 

Dry cement powder also worked surprisingly well when recreating the surface of the moon for the cover of The Stars, Like Dust.

Discovered this striking set of images earlier in the week by Cassandra Klos themed around a desire to explore the cosmos and felt an affinity with them (originally found on the Kickstarter blog). In some of the unused footage for ‘The Stars, Like Dust’, there is a sequence of a Sputnik 1 satellite being built from tinfoil for an outer space expedition that never happens. ⭐

Above is a photograph of a photograph that sits on the surface of the moon, too small to be detected by lunar satellites and thought to be slowly deteriorating as the shrink wrap reacts to temperature. The image was placed there in 1972 by Apollo 16 astronaut Charles Duke and inspired the cover artwork for The Stars, Like Dust, combining a spontaneous human gesture with something distant and desolate. You can read the full story of the original photograph here and I think there’s something really touching about it.

Detuned doom in a darkened room awaits. Hear an unreleased song on this magnificent cassette release from The Dark Outside!

Excellent photos by Rachel Shewen of us finding our bearings at The Talking Heads, Southampton, UK. View the full set on Flickr.

Bat to the Future at Rectory Mansion, Brading, Isle of Wight.

Pleased to be adding some mildly threatening (and previously unreleased) wailing to this wondrous cassette release from @thedarkoutside. Fans of mysterious broadcasts in the woods and tape player owners, stay tuned.