Sometimes, The Universe Comes To You...

It was back to Manchester on Thursday this week, for Bleep #16. This is a significant event for me. First, it marks a year since I first descended the badly-lit steps to the venue space beneath the Peer Hat, and heard some things that made my inner idiot command me to do something in response. A genuine epiphany. A year on, and I'm about to do my 6th gig, having never been on a stage since an ill-fated attempt at a punk band at school. We walked on to silence, played four terrible songs to silence, walked off to silence, and vowed never to do it again. It was clearly the right decision for all involved, especially our audience.

But I digress. It's exactly 40 years later, and time for tonight's acts, such as I had time to see before my train called me away to bed and the usual 6:30 start on Friday morning. First up was WhereIsRoamer, who previously graced the Bleep stage last summer with a live set. With a look seemingly influenced by Marc Bolan and Robert Smith, we were treated to a longer DJ set of creative sample mashups; a fast and furious journey through many musical genres. I believe Roamer played a little longer due to a couple of acts pulling out at the last moment, but I may be wrong. 

Love and peace from WhereIsRoamer

 

Next up was Fading Hills, delivering initial ambient landscapes that suddenly gave way under the weight of heavy, minimal, almost industrial beats with drone bass. Stark and foreboding, a powerful sound. The whole thing had the distinct feeling of a complete piece of music, which the audience really appreciated, showing that he really knows what he's doing. 

Fading Hills, a man hard at accomplished musical work

Ccaprice (with two "c"s) has an accomplished, commercial sound. She describes it as electronic indie pop. She has a great (trained?) voice, and her lyrics are heavy in places. Subjects such as war and the darker side of online life featured largely. She had lots of chat and her final song was a summery pop composition with a great hook. She writes and produces her own material and also fronts a band, which might explain her confident stage presence. 

Ccaprice delivering catchy earworms

It is said that if you wait long enough, the universe will come to you, and I've been trying to catch a live glimpse of Heaton Norris Light Vessel Automatic for a very long time. With two large wooden boxes full of modular synth, and Piglet watching over the proceedings, he's a Bleep favourite. I distinctly heard one young man behind me say, "Watch this now, it's brilliant" to his mate. Gradually, from an abstract landscape came an evolving, haunting sound gradually resolving itself into something more concrete. The doctor was in, and he would see us now. The sound was beautifully balanced, understated, and just so. Think Tangerine Dream with pathos. It wasn't so much loud as powerful. No one in the audience was talking, and if they were, it was about what was happening onstage. And rightly so. A true sonic alchemist. I could listen to a lot of this, and by the sound of the applause, so could everyone else.

The mighty Heaton Norris Light Vessel Automatic leaving us both satisfied and yet desperate for more.

And there was just time for one final act before I was pulled back to Piccadilly. Phoebe is a music teacher who has taught several acts that have previously graced the Bleep stage. Having heard her soundcheck before the evening began, the first thing that hit me was her voice. To my tin ears, she was bang on the money with every note, even when playing against her pre-recorded harmonies. Her sound is Celtic, tribal and heavily, yet deeply ethereal. Think This Mortal Coil without guitars. Her voice is truly an instrument. 

Phoebe's exquisite, ethereal set delivered with perfect pitch.

And then it was time to wend my weary way home, with some quiet reflection on the past year as the lights of south Manchester and beyond sped by. 

12 months ago, I just had a stupid idea that I must do something, or the past few decades of musical noodling would have been wasted. The first and best decision I took was to think about what I wanted to write, then got a sound together with which to write it. It was like forming a band. What drum kit to use, what bass sound and style, lead sounds, the singer, pads, tempo and so on. I found that after that, the songs flowed not exactly easily but at a steady pace in a style that's consistent. As I've explored my sound, I've begun to find what it's capable of, like a real band does. If you're stuck in your bedroom in front of a big rack of synths, with a million competing ideas, and frustrated at not getting your EMOM act together, try this approach. Form a band in your head and work within the limitations it imposes. If it can work for an idiot like me, it might work for a talented person like you.

So, anyway, it's time to rehearse. Libby and I will be performing at Wharf Chambers in Leeds tomorrow night (14th), then at Shrewsbury EMOM in Frankville (just over the Welsh bridge) next Saturday (20th), and then we're back to the mighty Electric Tentacle at the Captain's Bar in Stoke on Thursday 25th. 

 Stop by and say hello. We don't bite. Well, I don't, anyway...