Both [the Tories and the Royal family] depend on networks of power and privilege that are increasingly exposed. They are estranged from the young, and have a common air of pomposity and entitlement that sits awkwardly with the new middle class, along with a seeming inability – or refusal – to understand big social changes and what they demand.
As usual, John Harris reads the landscape perfectly. I’m sharing his op-ed because I think we’ve just witnessed a turning point, and it feels good to feel hopeful.
Our swifts returned today, 7th May, a sign that “the globe’s still working” and “our Summer’s still all to come” (Ted Hughes’ Swifts). Previously: 2022, 11th; 2021, 16th; 2020, 5th; 2019, 9th; 2018, 7th; 2017, 11th.
This year, the warming climate also bought Alpine swifts to our shores, as early as March, but I haven’t seen one yet.
As previously noted, I’m having fun with tape loops, and this has informed my recent listening. A highlight is Paul Cousins’ Vanishing Artefacts, a mesmerising album that’s unashamedly honest about its construction. I love the split-screen film, which has convinced me that my next release should have a proper video.

One of the best things about sharing my music is making new connections. Satoshi Sugiyama and Hanae Miki are artists with a modest gallery in Manazuru, a small Japanese port town. They are owned by two adorable cats.
Satoshi reached out to thank me for buying his releases on Bandcamp. Mainly, he wanted to share something related to my song, Tombi. He sent photos from a story he’d written featuring the bird. And from there, we started a conversation.
Among other things, Satoshi captures recordings of his surroundings. In a sense, these recordings are unremarkable (ambient noise, birds, dockside machinery, the cats), yet they’re incredibly engaging and personal. These recordings are his diaries, documenting his place and his life.
I especially appreciate how Satoshi presents the work, with the same care that compels me to bundle my own music with material that give listeners a greater context and broader sense of place and time.
I’m a big fan of Emeka Ogboh’s art and loved his 6°30′33.372″N 3°22′0.66″E album. A new Ableton interview explores his purpose and process, and while the whole piece is interesting, I especially appreciate Ogboh’s thoughts on the danger of exoticising a place through field recordings.
I see field recordings more like an anthropological thing – digging into a place to know a place. The music could help you do that because maybe in the process of making the music, you spend a lot of time actively listening, trying to identify and pick out sounds. In that way, you’re taking an anthropological dive to understand the place. That’s not exoticising.
I use field recordings collected in Japan in my current music project to better understand those places and the broader cultural context. There’s always a fear that someone might misunderstand my intention — think I’m just doing it for effect, or a “weeb” or whatever — so I find Ogboh’s take comforting.

We caught the 7:55am train from Gare du Nord and headed through Belgium into Germany. In the early afternoon, we arrived in Düsseldorf, a city we've visited many times; a place that means a lot to us.
We return because we love the city, and love Beyond Tellerrand. Our close friend Marc Thiele hosted yet another inspiring edition, and we’re delighted that it sold out after a bumpy post-lockdowns return. Marc’s a gracious host, and anyone who knows him or has attended his inclusive and considerate events knows he only deserves our praise. It was lovely to meet (or know better) a bunch of good people and a joy to see old friends again, not least Aoi and dina.
However, I didn’t feel good about the way I handled some interactions; I was often nervous, incoherent, overly apologetic. And I bailed twice, uncomfortable in large groups, frustrated by indecision, and fearful of unpredictable company. I credit several life changes with what was, for some years, a successful supression of my generalised anxiety. But since the pandemic, I’ve struggled with social events, and familiar symptoms are resurfacing.
Geri is helping me to make sense of it, and we’ll identify a few ways of handling future events. This shit didn’t beat me back then, and it won’t beat me now.

To celebrate Geri’s 40th birthday, we spent a few days in Paris, arriving by Eurostar. Our first day began with coffee at cosy Dreamin’ Man, followed by a dig at the incredible Balades Sonores record shop. Later, after a drink at Mikkeller, we enjoyed small plates and cocktails at listening bar Bambino.
On the morning of Geri’s birthday, we relaxed at Dreamin’ Man with coffee and scones, then went shopping for a special gift. In the afternoon, we bought flowers from Aoyama Flower Market and delicate patisserie desserts from Mori Yoshida, then walked to the tower. To round off the day, we enjoyed a warm welcome and delicious meal at the intimate French restaurant Aux Plumes.
The final full day was cold and wet but couldn’t dampen our spirits. We spent a couple of hours at Musée Picasso (I’ve written about that separately) before a lunch of tasty buckwheat crepes (what certain regions, such as Brittany, refer to as galettes) with my friend Titouan at cosy Creperie Gigi. That evening, with our minds on packing and a very early train to Germany, we took it easy and enjoyed a Korean barbecue feast next to the hotel before a short sleep.




I was intrigued that Paul Smith has directed Musée Picasso’s rehang to mark 50 years since the artist’s death, so we visited while in Paris. And Paul does a good job with the decor, raising smiles with his trademark patterns and sense of fun.
However, audiences are increasingly aware of Picasso’s troubling legacy of cruelty, misogyny and colonialism, and institutions know they must confront this. This show reframes Picasso “in a fun way” (maybe the aim is to make critics look like killjoys), so it falls short. Aside from a couple of works by other artists that offer harsh commentary, there is little attempt to expose the artist’s darker side. I get it, of course; what happens to Musée Picasso if we cancel Picasso?
Sigh. It’s rubbish being a grown-up, isn’t it? Also, we didn’t have much time to appreciate the separate Faith Ringgold exhibition, but what I saw was brilliant and powerful — especially her patchworks and maps.
If you’ve any interest in this, I also wrote about seeing Guernica up close.

Osaka, the third EP in my Japanese cities series, is now available. I’ve already written about the first two tracks, so I’ll share some thoughts about the others.
Grand Sumo captures a day at the Spring tournament and our chance to see our fave rikishi up close. You’ll hear elderly superfans, the ring-entering ceremony and thrilling bouts. The EP comes with a replica program and Takayasu sticker.
Of Fields and Forests is my first track to be built with analog tape loops, and it encapsulates much of what I’m trying to achieve. During mastering, Millsy said that it “sounds like a Polaroid,” and I was thrilled because it’s about how memories feel and find their place. It recounts travelling to neighbouring Hyōgo to stay with the family of our friend, Yūsuke, for two days of rural peace that filled us with optimism. The song closes with Yūsuke remembering his family home.
Osaka is on Spotify, Apple, Soundcloud, etc. You can buy the download and cassette with liner notes, map, sticker and sumo program on Bandcamp.


The latest episode of Electronic Odyssey celebrates 100 issues of Electronic Sound magazine, highlighting essential editions with superb tunes and special guests.
I’m so grateful to Lippy Kid for selecting one of my songs, A Different Kind of Light, to represent one of my fave issues, No.79, A Beginner’s Guide to Field Recording (I have a copy on the shelf above my desk). What a wonderful surprise.
The episode of Electronic Odyssey is now up on MixCloud. The show airs on Radio Free Matlock on the first Tuesday of the month.

I wanted to leave something in tribute to Ryuichi Sakamoto. In truth, I never knew his work as well as I should have, but many songs, albums, and collaborations from his life have meant something to me.
I remember being ten years old, hearing Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence, and being stunned at its beauty. I own a copy of Cendre, the beautiful album he made in collaboration with Fennesz; I love Sakamoto’s unhurried haunting piano notes interwoven with Fennesz’s electric textures. I recently enjoyed his final album, 12, released in January.
Since learning of his death, I have finally listened to Yellow Magic Orchestra, and there is much more to catch up with. I think the very best tribute I read in the days after the announcement of his death is Ryuichi Sakamoto’s Borderless Brilliance by the always-excellent Simon Reynolds.
Today, we enjoyed a long-overdue day out and much-needed fresh air. Up at 6:30am, we drove to the beach at Wells-next-the-Sea. We walked to Holkham Nature Reserve, had a ramble around the dunes, ate some snap at The Lookout, and took a stroll back along the woods. Saw a little muntjac deer and pair of marsh harriers. We also met two friendly pomeranians. Later, we went into town for a wander around the shops and devoured some gelato. I used a few neglected muscles and did five hours of driving; tired now and sore tomorrow.




I was over the moon to have my latest song featured on Jon Hicks’ Troika podcast. It’s the first episode in some time and I’m delighted it’s back. I’m also grateful to Jon for publicly championing my music over the last year.
And what about that Gareth Quinn Redmond track he closes with? It’s fitting that his album is constructed with tape loops because I’ve had it on repeat all week.
BTW, the first three Japan EPs are now available as a Full Digital Discography option on Bandcamp. Almost 70 minutes of music plus accompanying PDF maps and diary entries for £8.40 (that’s 30% off).

The second Osaka preview, Sauce!, is now streaming everywhere. The song highlights Osakan humour and unfussy sauce-soaked dishes like okonomiyaki and takoyaki. It’s received a great response while streaming on Bandcamp, described as “an earworm” and “a gentle banger”.
I drenched the second half in samples that reflect Osaka’s neon-soaked grit and effervescent personality. You’ll hear Geri in her TV Tokyo documentary and our friend Yusuke repeating a couple of very Kansai phrases (Osakans shed a tear for their wallets when they say, “eat yourself to ruin”). I also sampled a chap from the 1950s who sounds like Harrison Ford because, for many, Osaka has something of Blade Runner about it, and I wanted to play with that.
Sauce! is now streaming on Spotify, Apple, Soundcloud, Tidal, YouTube, etc. You can also pre-order Osaka EP on Bandcamp before its complete 7th April release.
My tape looping has reached the “buy a dedicated caddy” stage. When I find time, I’ll write more about this and how I’m using an old 4-track as a lo-fi instrument. It’s so much fun.



I had to get a copy of Tomoyoshi Date’s 438Hz As It Is, As You Are [あるがまま、あなたのままに], a rare solo release published by LAAPS. This gentle, spacious, beautiful album has been created to be played at either 33rpm or 45rpm (download and streaming offer both versions). To my ear, this intimate work sounds like winter shifting into Spring (similar in tone to Hiroshi Ebina’s If There’s Any Tinge of This World.
Date uses recordings from a dilapidated, slightly detuned Diapason upright piano in the house of his maternal grandmother’s sister. We hear the instrument, picked up by some great microphones along with the immediate environment and distant birdsong, to which Date adds delicate computerized processes. His detailed explanation for the work is fascinating.

The first single from my third EP is streaming everywhere. A Different Kind of Light is a theme for Osaka, a city so big that its edges are blurred, with a downtown that fizzes with a neon-soaked sci-fi intensity, reflecting the effervescent personality of Osakans.
The track begins with crowd chatter and a simple piano melody, but warm saturation and static distortion eventually take hold. I’ve used blasts of static previously, but this is the first time I’ve sustained the noise and made it so prominent because it feels appropriate to the city.
You can stream A Different Kind of Light on Spotify, Apple, Soundcloud, Tidal, YouTube, etc. You can also pre-order Osaka EP on Bandcamp before its complete 7th April release.




On Saturday night, we attended the intimate and low-key First Happening from Delia Recordings, the launch of a new project from old friends.
New beginnings. New blossomings. New life springs from the frozen ground. A new record label, a new magazine, a new series of happenings, a new time and place to create, perform, document and make beautiful things.
We enjoyed intimate songs and anecdotes from Huw Costin (Torn Sail, The Low Drift) followed by an inspiring short talk from Raif Killips about his impressive wildlife carvings. Later, there was an engaging spoken word performance from Simon Rudkin with Matt on the Moogerfoogers, and a headline performance of textured melodies from the excellent Brown Fang. Pop-up Crate Mags sold select publications and zines, and the event raised some money for the venue, By Our Hands We Make Our Way in rejuvinated Sneinton Market.
New beginnings and beautiful things. Spring is here, taste the colour.

The third EP in my Japanese cities series is here. Osaka celebrates the sprawling city’s unique culture and effervescent personality and remembers a rural retreat in neighbouring Hyōgo prefecture.
This EP documents experiences of the region from our 2016 and 2018 trips: downtown Osaka’s sci-fi fizz and intensity; its metropolitan scale, so big that its edges are blurred; Osakan humour and the love for simple, sauce-soaked food; the excitement of a day at the Sumo tournament; moments of rural peace and optimism.
As ever, I’m attempting to give form to my memories; to share how they feel and help them find their place in time.
Countless hours of research and production went into this one, and I hope you’ll give it a listen. Pre-order Osaka EP today and get A Different Kind of Light and Sauce!, plus two more tracks and supporting documents on 7th April. Special edition tapes include locations map, liner notes, diary entries, sticker and replica Sumo program and will ship in mid-April.
The recent accomplishments of generative AI are taking the technology overground. Last year saw the frighteningly fast evolution of image generators, and 2023 is undoubtedly the year of copywriting and content-generation products.
As a result, many of us are trying to weigh the possible benefits against probable harm, doing the work that big tech avoids. We are ethicists, looking into the near future to examine possible externalities. We are analysts, paying greater attention to the quality and authenticity of unfamiliar content. We are rebels, organising to protect our work and livelihoods. I don’t yet have much to offer to the debate, but I read what I can from trustworthy voices.
For example, The Expanding Dark Forest and Generative AI finds Maggie Appleton (previously) surveying the landscape in a way that makes sense to me. Maggie offers those of us happiest tending our digital gardens or conversing in cosy communities ways of presenting ourselves that will amplify our human status amid all the noise and mundanity pumped out by the “mimicry machines”.