The Haunted Generation in the Fortean Times (Issue 429)

The Haunted Generation is also a regular column in Fortean Times magazine, rounding up new releases and forthcoming events. From Issue 429, dated March 2023…

THE HAUNTED GENERATION

Bob Fischer rounds up the latest news from the parallel worlds of popular hauntology

“Ullstair University was a centre for esoteric further education, located above the basalt northern coast of a Parallel Ireland of 1987. Her students were free to explore the occult mysteries of people and place, without fear of the prosaic, physical violence that afflicted lower realities…”

No doubt the beer in the liminal Student Union bar was subsidised, too. This is the shaggy dog backstory to Ullstair University Vol 1, a splendidly eerie new record from regular FT contributor, Ryan Shirlow. Split across two seamless suites, it’s an affecting mish-mash of haunting electronica and rather melancholy folk instrumentation, all combined with some laudably ambitious field recordings. “There’s a burbling drain recorded in Beirut and the sound of an elevator in Sweden,” explains Ryan. “And the horrifying sound of pigs being slaughtered is, in fact, a pedalo from Centre Parcs. Oh, and there’s also me dropping my keys in a nuclear bomb shelter in Switzerland. It took several takes to get that bit of percussion right. I got a bit carried away…”

Pick up your grant cheque and visit woodfordhalse.bandcamp.com. And, while you’re there, maybe also investigate David Colohan’s album A Lunar Standstill. Similarly combining traditional folk stylings with gorgeous electronic swoops, it’s the evocation of a rainy morning spent contemplating the mysteries of the universe at Stanton Drew stone circle in Somerset. Followed, it seems, by an afternoon contemplating the Best Bitter in the nearby Druids Arms pub.

Also pondering the mysteries of their universe – and their connections to Todmorden – is Neil Scrivin, recording as The Night Monitor. His new album Close Encounters of the Pennine Kind is influenced by the real-life 1980 experiences of West Yorkshire policeman Alan Godfrey. Following a terrifying UFO encounter on a routine early morning call-out, Godfrey underwent hypnotic regression and recalled being tormented by a Biblical being named Yosef and a gaggle of small robots. Neil’s album is a collection of immaculate synth instrumentals that will delight fans of 1980s Doctor Who, and it’s available from fonolith.bandcamp.com. And, if we’re still talking nuclear bunkers, I also recommend Drakelow by Epic45. This gently melancholic album was inspired by Ben Holton and Rob Glover’s 2005 visit to the Drakelow Tunnels, a vast underground complex in Worcestershire. Once earmarked to house the UK government in the event of a nuclear exchange, the decommissioned facility has since been linked to ghost sightings and the unexplained sound of wartime music wafting through the empty tunnels. The album, originally released in 2006, has now been brought to the surface at digital.waysideandwoodland.com.

Echoes of the past also haunt Gilden Gate, a stunningly organic and melodic new album by Oliver Cherer – released under his intriguing nom-de-plume, Gilroy Mere. Weekending in the Suffolk hamlet of Dunwich, Oliver discovered this tiny outpost had once been a sprawling medieval city port. And although its impressive spires have been long since submerged by the encroaching North Sea, spectral vestiges remain. “There are stories of fishermen hearing the bells of lost churches,” explains Oliver. “And we visited the last grave at the priory… the bones of that one remaining monk will soon be disappearing into the sea. It’s an occultic, genuinely spooky corner of the country.” The album is available from 24th March, and can be pre-ordered at claypipemusic.co.uk.

Further north, Yorkshire producer Marcus H – recording as Earstone – has been nervously re-assessing the spooky goings-on that marred his Bristol childhood. Habitation Incidents 74-84 is a collection of hair-raising synth workouts, the sinister ambience encapsulated by the extraordinary ‘Beryl, I Heard Violins’. A phrase, alarmingly, once uttered to his mum by his elderly grandmother. Brave souls should tread gingerly to marcushmusic.bandcamp.com. And elsewhere, Ghost Box Records’ ongoing campaign to reissue their totemic early releases is gathering pace. Arcane ceremonies at vinyl pressing plants have resulted in two pivotal 2005 albums re-assuming physical form: Belbury Poly’s The Willows and Eric Zann’s Ouroborindra are both, in fact, the work of label co-founder Jim Jupp and are once again available from ghostbox.co.uk.

Meanwhile, in Manchester, Suzy Mangion is paying tribute to one of the founding mothers of disquieting, haunting electronica. Her ongoing project Location: Gilsland takes inspiration from Radiophonic Workshop pioneer Delia Derbyshire; in particular the years Derbyshire spent in this unassuming Cumbrian village following her 1973 departure from the BBC. “I interviewed women of a similar age to Delia during her post-BBC years,” explains Suzy. “I asked them questions on a range of subjects linked to Gilsland, and what we know of Delia’s time there. But also on their feelings about marriage, escape and freedom…”

The project began as part of 2021’s official Delia Derbyshire Day, with Suzy and visual artist Katie Mason collaborating on a short film, also called Location: Gilsland. The soundtrack, weaving snippets of these interviews into appropriately elegiac music, can be found at suzymangion.bandcamp.com. Available separately is a 32-page booklet shedding further light on the whole touching project, on this bittersweet chapter of Derbyshire’s life, and – indeed – on the links between rural retreat and creativity. It’s a touching homage to a woman whose true legacy is only now being fully appreciated.

A note: Shortly after this issue of Fortean Times was published, I was extremely saddened to hear that Marcus H had died. He was a charming man, and our paths crossed a few times – most notably, he was a studio guest on my BBC Tees show, discussing the excellent drone-based music he made under the name Soiled. Since then, we’d stayed in touch, and I’d found his recent recordings as Earstonen similarly affecting – especially when it touched upon a childhood seemingly marred by strange, supernatural experiences. I’d like to extend my deepest sympathies to all of Marcus’ family and friends.