Sean Kitching dipinge per The Quietus lo strano strano mondo di Charles Hayward, e ne parla nel contempo col diretto interessato. Da lui si fa dire tra l'altro dello strepitoso set solitario proposto dal vivo per anni tra la gioia e la meraviglia del pubblico di mezzo mondo - tra Abracadabra Information e One Big Atom più o meno, ma in epoche anche precedenti - prima di suscitare analoghe reazioni con il più recente, affatto diverso, 30 Minute Drum Roll: "I started to wonder how I could play drums and sing, and not do it with other musicians. So, I devised this system, where there are no click-tracks and in fact nothing is in time with anything else. I came up with a system where I had a collection of foot pedals, which controlled volume and then I had these taped signals which could be up to nine minutes long, which were built and tailored specifically to the song I was making, and as the song changed I’d take some sounds out and bring other sounds in, related to the harmonic shifts and I would bring them in and out in relation to the drum beat and the vocal line and people would think that everything was to a click-track. If I was playing a bass part, when I recorded the bass part, I would be thinking along the lines of a constantly shifting pulse, so there is no pulse. It becomes almost like an extreme funk, the bass doing these amazing syncopations against the drums, but it’s completely random. I think some people think I’m playing to a backing track, and I’m not. I’m playing to some sounds that I have made, that are assembled in front of your ears, differently each time I play. The audience makes sense of it and 90% of the work is going on in their heads. It means I can be wild. If I’m playing to a click-track, I’m being a good boy and the last thing I want to be when I’m making music is a good boy. Having to justify your time keeping against some bit of machinery is dehumanising. The heartbeat is at the centre, not the clock."
04 luglio 2018
Sean Kitching dipinge per The Quietus lo strano strano mondo di Charles Hayward, e ne parla nel contempo col diretto interessato. Da lui si fa dire tra l'altro dello strepitoso set solitario proposto dal vivo per anni tra la gioia e la meraviglia del pubblico di mezzo mondo - tra Abracadabra Information e One Big Atom più o meno, ma in epoche anche precedenti - prima di suscitare analoghe reazioni con il più recente, affatto diverso, 30 Minute Drum Roll: "I started to wonder how I could play drums and sing, and not do it with other musicians. So, I devised this system, where there are no click-tracks and in fact nothing is in time with anything else. I came up with a system where I had a collection of foot pedals, which controlled volume and then I had these taped signals which could be up to nine minutes long, which were built and tailored specifically to the song I was making, and as the song changed I’d take some sounds out and bring other sounds in, related to the harmonic shifts and I would bring them in and out in relation to the drum beat and the vocal line and people would think that everything was to a click-track. If I was playing a bass part, when I recorded the bass part, I would be thinking along the lines of a constantly shifting pulse, so there is no pulse. It becomes almost like an extreme funk, the bass doing these amazing syncopations against the drums, but it’s completely random. I think some people think I’m playing to a backing track, and I’m not. I’m playing to some sounds that I have made, that are assembled in front of your ears, differently each time I play. The audience makes sense of it and 90% of the work is going on in their heads. It means I can be wild. If I’m playing to a click-track, I’m being a good boy and the last thing I want to be when I’m making music is a good boy. Having to justify your time keeping against some bit of machinery is dehumanising. The heartbeat is at the centre, not the clock."