As well as this regular blog, the Haunted Generation is also a bi-monthly column in the Fortean Times magazine, rounding up new releases and forthcoming events. This was the most recent feature, from issue 393, dated June 2020.
THE HAUNTED GENERATION
Bob Fischer rounds up the latest news from the parallel worlds of popular hauntology
“I think it’s always a time of hope, and new growth,” says Jon Brooks, discussing his new album How to Get to Spring, a beautifully melodic and meditative evocation of his favourite season. “So this album is about that. It’s offering a kind of quiet hope, really.”
During the ongoing Coronavirus lockdown, many of us have found ourselves pining for our usual connections with the natural world, and landscapes that both soothe and exhilarate. How to Get to Spring offers blissful musical respite, inspired by Jon’s walks around the remote trails of his native Peak District and a life-affirming journey to the Isle of Skye. “I really just switch myself off, and open myself to what’s going on around me,” he says. “And I think that puts you into a different mental state. That’s where I get a lot of inspiration from, and certain things can bubble to the surface…”
The album is a gentle, elegant musical journey; deliberately structured to drift gracefully from the hard ground and clear skies of January to the pink blossom and bone-thawing sunshine of early May. Stately piano compositions like ‘Dreaming and Further Still’ are swathed in reassuring breaths of woozy electronica, and ‘Neist Point’ adds softly-strummed guitars and a subtle Celtic influence, appropriate for a piece inspired by this remote Hebridean outpost. “I just thought the atmosphere around it was amazing,” says Jon. “You look out to sea, and… that’s pretty much all you can see. Just water. You feel really small in that place.”
The album is the latest of Jon’s solo recordings to be released by Clay Pipe Music, and the label is also reissuing a vinyl edition of his haunting 2012 album, Shapwick [FT 354:34]. This latter collection – influenced by a night-time motorway detour through the titular Somerset village – melds elegiac piano with the sounds of wistful music boxes, vintage radiophonica and field recordings, and is utterly mesmeric. Meanwhile, Jon’s extensive recordings as The Advisory Circle are available from Ghost Box Records.
Taking similar inspiration from evocative landscape are an exciting quartet comprising best-selling writer Robert Macfarlane, artist Stanley Donwood, film-maker Adam Scovell and musician Drew Mulholland. Macfarlane and Donwood are the men behind Ness [published by Hamish Hamilton, 2019], a beautiful, delicately-illustrated prose poem set amidst the eerie topography of Orford Ness, the shingle-covered shard that clings to the Suffolk coastline. Commandeered by the MOD as a secret testing site throughout both world wars and the ensuing Cold War, this curious outpost also plays host to the “Black Beacon”, an experimental 1930s radio tower, and – in more recent years – has been protected by the National Trust as a fragile nature reserve.
It’s perhaps no surprise that such a psychogeographical goldmine has triggered a chain reaction of artistic responses. Hot on the heels of Ness’ publication came Adam Scovell’s similarly-titled film adaptation (visit celluloidwickerman.com), setting Macfarlane’s prose to artfully-shot and hugely atmospheric 8mm footage; its grainy glimpses of abandoned military facilities and windswept beaches feeling themselves like flickering transmissions, echoing through the decades. And Drew Mulholland’s soundtrack to the film, titled A Haunting Strip of Marshland, is scheduled for release by the Castles In Space label in August. Its throbbing, electronic soundscapes effortlessly evoke his lifelong love of the BBC Radiophonic Workshop, and Mulholland is also a grand master of manipulated field recordings: parts of the album were even recorded on cassette tapes dotted with the remains of ground-up lichen, native to the Ness.
And, for further bucolic delight, I recommend Copsford, a new album by R.B. Russell. Released to celebrate the 100th anniversary of journalist Walter J.C. Murray‘s rejection of modernity, and the resulting year that he spent living in a run-down house in the Sussex countryside, it’s a minimalist but tunefully tender collection of atmospheric instrumental pieces. Murray’s written account of his year of isolation – also titled Copsford – was published in 1948, and bespoke hardback editions are available from Russell’s own Tartarus Press publishing house. The album, meanwhile, can be downloaded from rbrussell.bandcamp.com.
Kudos also to Brighton synth queen Hattie Cooke, whose album The Sleepers has previously graced these pages [FT 387:69]. Hattie has curated the rather wonderful Help Musicians Compilation, a collection of original material on her newly-forged Patch Bae Records label. Intended to raise funds – via the Help Musicians UK charity – for artists whose livelihoods have been threatened by the Coronavirus lockdown, the album is a splendid miscellany of atmospheric electronica and synth-pop from the likes of Polypores, Repeated Viewing and Rupert Lally. Head to patchbaerecords.bandcamp.com.
Issue 394 of the Fortean Times is on the shelves now, and you can also subscribe here: