Bill Nelson's Diary - March 2004
Wednesday, 3rd March 2004
-- 9:45 PM
Emi seems to have succumbed to a flu virus. She's been feeling weak with a sore throat, coughing, aching body, a rise in temperature, etc...the usual signature symptoms. We've both been reasonably clear of this kind of thing for a while but not immune it seems. I've been feeling a little bit 'sniffy' today too, so I hope I'm not next in line for it. We've got tickets to see Bill Frisell perform tommorow and I'm hoping Emi will be feeling well enough to go. Not everyday that one get's the chance to see Bill play in this country. I'm a big fan of his work and am really looking forward to it. Elliot is coming along to see the concert too. I hope it will inspire him. Helped Emi with her freelance flower work today. In between this she rested in bed. I brought Lem-Sip, Strepsils and glasses of water up from the kitchen. At the same time, I've been continuing with my work on the guitar album which has taken a completely different turn from my first attempts at assembling it. I've decided to put all the vaguely 'rock' oriented pieces to one side and have instead concentrated on making the album a single minded low-key but quirky affair.
Impossible to really describe how it sounds. Lots of distressed electronics over twangy, echoing, bejewelled guitars...The Shadows meet BBC Radiophonic Workshop/Raymond Scott in the Palace of glitch and bleep? Well, sort of, only much more beautiful and subtle than that attempt at a description would indicate. I'm listening back to the latest assembly at this minute...it seems to hang together much better than the earlier versions I'd made. Better without the more 'traditional' tracks fogging the direction. it's certainly much more consistent in style now, almost uniformly thematic in its approach. Almost....This could be the one that gets pressed and released. Track listing and 'running order of the moment' is as follows:
It may be that, after a couple of days of listening through to this latest assembly that I decide to trim the track count back a bit...but if I do, it will only be by one or two titles. It's a very dreamy, relaxed album in the main with each track following a deliberately similar route. There are a couple of slight exceptions though, one of which is 'I Am The Only Monster Here' but even this contains elements found in the other pieces. It starts out in semi-atonal, avant-jazz clothing but strips at the end to reveal a transparent lacework of drifting guitar filigrees. This particular track was almost titled ' Brutal-Ethereal' but I felt that it described the track too much and instead opted for the 'B-movie' style title that it now resides under. The album is still, I think, going to be called 'Dreamland To Starboard' as this title suits the other-worldly, surrealist Disneyland landscape that the music inhabits. It's all quite beautiful though, delicate in places, despite the humour and lightness of some of the titles. The album may yet carry a subtitle:- 'Music For Guitars and Electronics.' The electronics provide a kind of 'weather' which in itself leaves a patina on the sounds, making the music feel like a relic from some retro-future, which is exactly what the intention was. I'll decide just how fixed all this is after a few more days of listening through it. Sounding good at the moment though, I have to admit.
Have meant to mention how impressed I am by Phil Lamb's 'Plurality Of Planets' trackology/discography/data base now running on the RWBV site. (Have I mentioned it before? Can't recall...If I haven't, I certainly meant to.) An absolutely mammoth task, pulling all this together, every piece of music I've ever recorded, all perfectly itemised, described and cross-referenced by the phenomenal Mr. Lamb. I received a hard copy of this incredible tome back at last year's Nelsonica and meant to write about it in these pages at that time, but have been too busy making more new music, complicating even further Phil's ongoing historian's duties. I guess I am as surprised by my output as any layman...this thing is like a telephone directory. Huge...The directory really could only be compiled by a truly dedicated fan, such is the enormity of the task but, I have to hand it to Phil Lamb, he's risen to the challenge and passed the test with flying colours. An I.K.O.N. (Illuminated Knight Of Nelsonia) honour to that man!
Such a lot still to do, a very busy year this, and only March, 'though time is flying by at hyper-speed and the autumn tour will be upon me before I know it. Let's hope that I can put this instrumental album to bed soon and move on to the next set of recordings. Hope my energy holds out too, all this productivity is tough on my health. As much as it brings me joy, it's ultimately hard work. Or is that simply a sign of my age? Anyway, let's see these young 'uns track record a few years down the line. That'll sort out the men from the boys.
Bed time and a dose of vitamin C.
Saturday, 6th March
2004 -- 11:00 AM
Almost there with the new instrumental album. Of course, I've said this before and then continued to tinker with it, nevertheless...perhaps a few minor adjustments still to figure out but it is sounding wonderful this morning as I listen back. I really think that this one is a rare jewel, several notches higher than 'Sustain' or 'Plaything' and without a single attempt at deliberate seduction. By that, I mean that I really tried to not to care an iota about what anyone else might make of it. Not that I usually worry much about such considerations but, anyway. What I'm trying to say is that this one is particularly pure and personal. It's been tremendously satisfying to make and is a lovely sounding thing, quite emotional, despite the cerebral nature of many of the tracks. Can't wait to get this onto people's CD decks and see how they react...as far as the guitar instrumental recordings go, this, for me at least, is a peak moment. Bearing in mind the reactionary comments that a small minority of fans made about 'Noise Candy' (another favourite of mine), it's perhaps possible that there may be some conservatively minded listeners who may not quite understand where it's coming from...at least, not until they've given it several listens. It's certainly not a 'rock' album, even though it is possible to decipher certain rock gestures amongst its other, more sensual charms. It's an album of transgenerational, transgeneric, guitar instrumental music. I hope it's 'Bill Nelson Music,' as simple as that. (How could it be anything else?) Anyone finding it remotely 'difficult' really shouldn't be searching for musical kicks in my neck of the woods in the first place, I suppose. Despite being simple, it's not an album for simpletons, or for people with closed minds. On the other hand, it isn't intended to be an intellectual puzzle for art music snobs either. It's a focused album of guitar paintings, landscapes both inner and outer, which deserves the 'painting with guitars' epithet far more than anything else I've ever done along these lines. I'm very proud of it.
Went to see Bill Frisell's concert at the West Yorkshire Playhouse in Leeds and enjoyed an inspiring evening. Bill was superb, as was his band and, although the African collaboration with Djelimady was great fun, the high point for me was an achingly beautiful waltz-time piece performed with just Bill on guitar plus Greg Leitz' pedal steel and the violin of Jenny Scheinman. Absolutely wonderful. I met up with Bill after the show and we chatted about mutual musical acquaintances. I gave him copies of 'Plaything', 'The Romance Of Sustain' and 'Practically Wired' as a little gift. Bill immediately said how much he liked the cover art on the albums. He recognised my good friend Frank Olinsky's name. Frank had designed a couple of Bill's album sleeves, quite some time ago. Hope he will find something amongst the music to like too. A very nice man as well as a tremendously gifted musician. We swapped email addresses and said 'keep in touch...' Hopefully, our paths may cross again.
Emi has been ill. A flu virus. In fact she's still far from well. As always when she catches these things, it eventually progresses to her chest and she's now suffering from a shocking cough and sleeping very badly (as am I). It seems that this chest sensitivity is her weakness and something we need to treat with respect. At these times, she has trouble breathing properly, gasping for breaths between coughing fits. Distressing to see. She's spending the weekend wrapped up in bed so, hopefully, she'll find the strength to fight off the bug.
Re-building work being done on the property adjoining ours. It's been going on for weeks now, constant noise and dirt. The noise has been horrific in our house. I'm fed up with it all, especially as the people doing the work seem to have zero respect for our own property. Trucks backing across the edge of our front garden, tree branches being snapped off and a scaffolding support pole being anchored in our rear garden without so much as a by-your-leave. Yesterday, there were four workmen standing, uninvited, in our back garden, looking up at the building next door. No one asked us if they could come in to the space, they just waltzed in as though they owned it. I told them, in no uncertain terms, that this was not a public place but our private garden and that they were trespassing. They looked at me with utter contempt, sarcastically apologised and ambled out, sniggering as they went. None of this gives me any confidence in our new 'neighbours-to-be' who are supervising all this work. The area used to be much more placid, quiet and private until the farmer next door sold up. A developer bought it, then split the property into two to double his profit and now we have two families to our left where previously there was only a farmer and his young daughter. Now, it feels totally different and 'unprotected' somehow. I'm afraid I'm not a social animal at all and I tend to pick my friends very carefully. Luckily, our other neighbours are nice, caring people who respect my privacy (which I guard fiercely), the kind of people who I'd probably choose as friends regardless of proximity. Lucky, I guess.
I have to say though, that the possibility of moving somewhere more private has crossed my mind on more than one occasion. I'd love to live somewhere out of the view of others, somewhere surrounded by trees and fields, perhaps near a river. Not that we will ever be able to afford such a luxury. Nevertheless, I much prefer gentle isolation to the 'barby' party madness of the farmhouse conversion set. I am, of course, a misanthropic beast and getting beastlier with every passing year. I'm actually quite comfortable with this, in ways which would appall all those jolly hockey stick types with their boy scout/girl guide garden cook-outs. Bloody rubbish pop music playing 'till all hours. Disturbs my old-age reverie and my music-making too. Still, if I can't play the 'grumpy-old-man' card at my time of life, what's left to me? Games of dominoes at the pensioner's hut on the village green? A holiday chalet in some god-awful euro-ghetto where aging British yuppies spend their winters, endlessly praising the unspeakably scary Michael Howard and his gang of right-wing neolithic throwbacks? No thanks.
One thing I've clung to all these years is a feeling of personal, individual dissent, a kind of super-humorous nihilism or surrealist-anarchy...a cheerful, ironic disagreement, call it what you will. Anyway, I'd much rather retain my crusty, slippery, twisted awkwardness than surrender to some miserable, happy-clappy race for social status. Sod the status-quo and its self-perpetuating illusions of achievement. The cranky, discontented individual will always have more to offer than the grinning mob, in my opinion. Long live the misanthrope! Power to the outsider! Still...You've got to laugh, haven't you?
How long have I been writing these diaries now? More
than five years, I think. You'd expect I'd be bored rigid with it by now but,
here I am, one-finger still stabbing away at this plastic keyboard, staring into
a monitor screen that probably damages my eyes every time I peer into it. What
the hell for? Entertainment? Why yes, of course, exactly that. This
week, I have mostly been 'the artist-entertainer.' It's all a fabrication,
every bit of it. Well...that's life.
Friday, 12 March 2004
-- 1:56 PM
This time, I really think I've
finalised the 'DREAMLAND TO STARBOARD' album. Some new pieces have helped shape
it further and I now feel that I should commit it to the mastering process and
get on with the cover art. I'll need to contact Dave Graham to work with me on
the layout and call John Spence to fix up mastering time at Fairview. The
final running order looks like this:
Dreamland to Starboard
It is a very focused, unified and consistent work and, as I mentioned in my earlier diary entries, shaping up to be one of my personal favourite albums. I'm unusually pleased with it. Should I worry about this fact, I wonder? I was planning to hold the release of the album back until the autumn tour but am now thinking that I should make it available as soon as possible. Two reasons for this: One is that I'm so excited about the music that I want to 'get it out there' and share it with others. The other reason is that there is so much good material left over that it's perfectly feasible to assemble another new instrumental album to coincide with the autumn tour. I'm going to attempt to choose a running order for this second album very soon. Probably next week.
Of course, I still plan to put a 'band-style' vocal album together for the tour too and have now recorded two definite demo's for this project. The song titles are: 'Somewhere Else Is Here' and 'The Wind Blows Silver And The Bees Hum Gold.' The latter, recorded earlier this week, is a melancholic ballad. I'm recording these demo's in stripped down form to allow for the possible inclusion of other musicians (if I can get the budget together to go into Fairview for the recording proper). I'm still awaiting news from the agency who are booking the concerts. As yet, actual dates and venues are still to be confirmed. There are lots of 'maybes' but I need something more definite so that I can sit down with our sponsors and start to plan the campaign properly. There's a phenomenal amount of preparation to do between now and the actual shows. No doubt, the inevitable trials and tribulations of the planning and rehearsal process will show up in the diary at some point. I hope it all runs smoothly, of course, but there are always unseen frustrations and compromises. It will be a matter of trusting to luck plus lots of hard work...I have to admit to finding the prospect of putting all this together a little daunting. I really want it to be something special and need an equally special, supportive infra-structure to help me achieve my goal.
Getting back to the more familiar (and safer) ground of recordings: I also have enough material recorded for this year's Nelsonica CD, another eclectic mix of things. These fan convention CD's seem destined to become collector's pieces due to their limited nature. I don't mind this at all as they make nice souvenirs for those fans who support the annual convention. This year's convention looks like it will be held in December though, due to the proposed October/November tour. It would be nice to give this particular Nelsonica a Christmas theme, in keeping with the possible December event date. As my birthday is also in December (and convention organiser Alan Myers' too), it could shape up to be a festive/birthday party. Not that these conventions need any excuse to celebrate. They're always rather 'jolly' affairs. (I hesitate to use the term 'well oiled' as Nelsonians are always extremely well behaved and considerate, despite the odd one passing out in the gents!)
Very cold here today, snow in some parts of the country according to weather reports. A late winter this year. Emi still suffering with her bad chest but back at work. Trying to get her to stay wrapped up. Had some nice communications from Harold Budd recently. He's temporarily living in/renting a very interesting architect's house out in the desert before finalising a complete re-location for him and his family. Harold's description of the desert light, both day and night, is intriguing. It sounds impossibly exotic compared to life here in Yorkshire. But then, Harold always seems to find Yorkshire life exotic. The other man's grass, etc...
Also by email, writer and friend Tim Barr informed me of the sad death of guitarist John McGeogh who played with several bands, Magazine and PIL being my own favourites amongst those he worked with. I was only speaking about him a couple of days earlier and the news came as a shock. I met him many years ago when he was in Magazine and he seemed a genuinely good man and an original and inventive player. I really liked his approach. I'd been wondering what had happened to him as he was a talented musician who should have been given much more recognition by both his peers and the 'industry.' How appropriate the term 'industry' for the music business, it suggests images of a great Metropolis-like 'Moloch' machine, chewing up and spitting out artists in a relentless orgy of greed and indifference. I have no idea whether the trials and pressures of trying to survive as an artist-musician have contributed to John's tragically too early passing or not, but it wouldn't surprise me if that were the case. We've lost too many creative people these last ten or so years, Stewart Adamson, Billy McKenzie and Martin Hannet being others of John McGeogh's generation with whom I had personal contact and who are no longer with us. I'm saddened by how often these kind of situations have to be reported in this diary. To some degree I suspect that it is inevitable as we all become middle aged and older. Everyone I know seems to have experienced the passing of friends and loved ones. Perhaps it is partly an 'age' thing then, but also the despair that seems to hang like fog around those of a sensitive nature. I should stop this train of thought here before it becomes too maudlin. I can't afford that luxury, there's work to be done and dreams to be captured.
A relatively short diary entry today...I
need a break from my studio room before making my final listen through to
'Dreamland To Starboard' this evening. If it still sounds as good then as it
does now, I'll press on with the next project. I live for this stuff, I inhabit
it like electricity inhabits a light bulb.
Tuesday, 23rd March 2004
-- 8:53 PM 
Back from today's mastering session
for the 'Dreamland To Starboard' album at Fairview Studio, near Hull. The album
is 'in the can' and will go into the manufacturing stages soon, once the artwork
for the package is finalised. It was lovely to see and work with my old
friend John Spence once again. He's a true pal and a tremendously talented
engineer to boot. He always brings 100% of his gifts to bear upon any recordings
I take to him to master. I'm extremely grateful to the fates that our paths have
crossed. Hopefully, I may be able to raise enough money to book a session with
John at Fairview to record an album for the band's autumn tour. Or at least an
EP.'s worth of songs. We'll see...
The new album sounds wonderful. As I've said before in these pages, it may be one of the best things I've created...certainly something that I feel I can be truly proud of. It's part of a certain lineage or thread of work but, at the same time, completely fresh and different. Familiar but strange. John Spence liked it too. Another reliable barometer. For all my initial attempts at reducing the number of tracks on the album, it ended up being 17 tracks long. The absolutely final track listing is as follows:
|
Dreamland to Starboard
|
|
John Spence mastering 'Dreamland to Starboard' by Bill Nelson, March 2004. |
There's no possibility, now, of any further changes to this as the mastering process is completed. The artwork that Dave Graham has been laying out for 'Dreamland' is excellent. We're almost there, just a few more tweaks and it's done. The images are nostalgic and sort of early 20th Century but the music is, I hope, timeless. I've rarely been so enthused about something I've made. I'm still worried by my positivity on this. It's highly unusual for me to feel this way.
Starting work on assembling a running order for instrumental album No 2 now. Whatever direction it takes, it will be a different kettle of fish to 'Dreamland,' although there are bound to be certain connections. The recordings are much more orthodox (if there's ever such a thing as orthodoxy at work here), than the esoteric pieces I've mastered at Fairview today. They're certainly more easily located in the realm of rock music than the beautiful but willfully obscure worlds of 'Dreamland.' But, who knows? Until I put the final choices together in the correct sequence, it's nothing but conjecture. Many of the tracks originally planned for 'Dreamland' will go on this next album, tracks such as 'Synchromatic', 'Spacesuit Parade', 'Kitchenette' and 'I Remember Circus Boy.' I haven't even got a title for this particular album yet. 'Wah-Wah Galaxy' is a possibility but not, by any means a certainty.
I shouldn't even begin to speculate on the lives of my albums once they've left my tender care. I thought that 'Plaything' would prove difficult for some but, from what I can gather, it's gone straight to most people's hearts. 'Dreamland To Starboard' is aimed at the depths. Or at least, the further edge of the shallows. Perhaps it's on target. If not, well... tough. It hits my g-spot and I'm grateful enough for that.
Received a very nice letter from Harold with polaroids of his current home in the desert, although he will be on the move at sometime in the future. His letters are, like his music, exquisite and full of love. I'm sending him a CD-r of 'Dreamland To Starboard' very soon. Harold holds the bar over which many of us must jump. A standard bearer.
Cold again today. Winds this weekend damaged many things, including my shed roof which I now should find time to repair. Jon Wallinger came over on Saturday to help sort out a plumbing problem for me. I'm not very good at DIY jobs around the home, in fact I'm hopeless. Jon spent ages fiddling around in the cistern tank. Beyond the call of duty. I gave him a CD-r of 'Dreamland' in an attempt at compensation for his trouble.
Elle and Elliot, are in my thoughts for many reasons. This is too public a space to discuss but my heart is with them both. They deserve better than their current situation. Still reading Sam Kashner's 'When I Was Cool' book...a gift from my good friend Frank Olinsky. A tremendously enjoyable read. I am undeservingly blessed with excellent and rare friends who support and enlighten me. In this respect, I'm a very lucky guy.
Now, a brief respite. Television and
mindless distractions until bedtime and then the Sam Kashner book once more.
Tomorrow, the next album. I truly love my work.
Wednesday, 31st March 2004
-- 9 PM
Spring
appears to have sprung to some degree. Pleasant sunshine during the day, buds
and daffodils everywhere but cooling off dramatically at night time. Clocks
forward one hour since last weekend so the days are longer. I still feel cheated
a little at this time of year as I have to wean myself away from the blanket of
darkness that usually envelops Nelson Acres around 5 PM. I like the fact that
the world seems to retreat into its bunker, leaving me free to gather the
vacated energy in the air for studio pursuits. Spring through Summer brings out
the busy bee-ness of neighbours, active in their gardens building their
honeysuckle empires (and more besides, brick dust being a current bane). I
really prefer it when winter imposes its limit on surrounding activities and I
can feel that old 'it's just me and the universe' feeling, so conducive to
creative work. After a while, though, I get used to the change of light and
background chatter and adopt to a summer work routine. Never quite as productive
as wintertime but productive enough.
Emi and I spent last Saturday and Sunday in London. Emi to visit her Buddhist temple in Surrey and me to visit the Victoria and Albert Museum to catch the fabulous Bill Brandt exhibition. It's quite possible that Bill Brandt's work was the first 'art' photography I ever experienced. I remember seeing reproductions of two of his nude studies in a book of photography at a quite early age and was startled by the strange distortion of the model's limbs created by the use of very wide angle lenses and extra deep depth of field focus. His pictures of Halifax resonated deeply with me too. The current exhibition at the V+A covers many areas of his work and seeing some of the original prints first hand was an enlightening experience. I bought the book that accompanies the exhibition but decided to hold off buying the more expensive recently published biography until more solvent times.
Whilst waiting for our train to London at York station, I was surprised to see Bryan Ferry striding along the platform. We had met on a couple of occasions many years ago. He came to a Be Bop Deluxe show at ( I think), The Palladium in New York, back in the 'seventies. He stood in the wings to watch the show and we exchanged pleasantries afterwards. A few days later, he asked Be Bop's keyboard player, Andy Clark, to join Roxy Music. Andy had the good manners to turn him down. Some months later, Roxy Music were passing through the same airport as Be Bop Deluxe, somewhere in America on one of our seemingly interminable tours. A pleasant coincidence, they were heading in one direction and we in another but we all stopped and chatted on the concourse, comparing notes about where we'd each been playing and where we were off to next. I recall Phil Manzanera being friendly, chatty and cheerful. A nice man, I thought. We all wished each other well and dashed off to catch our respective planes. I haven't seen Bryan since that time. Until last Saturday on York station:
As he approached the platform bench where I was sitting, Mr. Ferry, looking tanned, healthy and wealthy, glanced over at me. I hesitated: should I say something? He quickly glanced away and then furtively looked over at me again. I thought it would appear rude if I didn't say something so I said, "Hello Bryan." He mumbled, "Hello there...," somewhat reluctantly. I could feel the resentment that he'd been recognised. He probably thought I was a middle-aged fan or something. I blushed, feeling foolish for speaking up in the first place but added the qualifying "Bill Nelson...," to perhaps jog his memory but he never broke his stride and moved quickly on down the platform to sit sulkily behind his newspaper in a platform shelter used mostly by the aged. When the train to London pulled in, I noted that he got into the first class carriage whilst Emi and I took our pre-booked economy class cheap seats with the regular punters. Pop stars, don't ya just love 'em?
That aside though, it was good to see that Bryan was wearing a reasonable choice of hat last Saturday. A sporty tifter in my knowledgeable estimation. We'll overlook his rather misguided attempt at covering the classic songs of the 'thirties and 'forties on that recent album. The less said the better. Never try to usurp the Gods is my advice...You'll only end up at York station looking miserable.
Think I've arrived at a solution for the track selection and running order for the follow up album to 'Dreamland To Starboard' (which is currently at the manufacturing stage). The next album is currently known as 'Custom Deluxe' and its track listing is as follows:
Custom Deluxe
Slightly less tracks than 'Dreamland' but a little longer running time. This still leaves me plenty of material for this years exclusive Nelsonica album. I'll turn my attention to putting that particular CD together soon.
All this music 'coming down God's pipe' as my pal Harold once expressed it. I ought to feel blessed but I'm not satisfied, despite the initial rush of enthusiasm for 'Dreamland.' Going somewhere but not there yet... Will I ever feel truly content with any music I make? If only...
Almost finished reading Sam Kashner's 'When I Was Cool.' Watched Orson Welles' 'Mr. Arkadin' movie on video (a poor quality copy that I bought for seven pounds in a dodgy looking London bookstore). Listening to virtually no music at all except my own and that only in the process of assembling it into albums. Saturated and frustrated. Why doesn't this stuff make me happier? I'm all over the place with it...one day I'm Mr. Maestro, the next I hate every fuckin' note. I'm only ever blown away for a few minutes, then the elastic snaps me back into the void.
No news on this blasted, promised but not yet organised '30 years celebration' tour either. I'm told "any day now" but it's all getting a bit last minute. Even though the plan is not to tour until the autumn, I need to give ample warning to musicians and technicians as soon as possible if plans for rehearsals and so on are to be laid. Adrian at Opium is chasing the agent so...hopefully, proper news soon.
Right now, I think I'm up to here with music.
Bedtime.
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