New Album - Final Mix!

Band focussed on frequencies while I’m seeing if I can de-age myself with an iPhone.

Hi folks, Tim here again

Hope you’re all well and navigating life stuff and world events in ways that work for you.  Sorry it’s been a minute since you’ve had any album-making updates from us, but I’ll set that right for you now.

I’m sat here at my kitchen table in Denmark in mid-February, looking out over a neighbouring forest of very tall, very bare trees, a bit glazed-over having taken in John’s excellent mixes of our new album – the one you’ve all so generously supported the making of. I will say open-heartedly that I think it’s our very best by quite some way, and corny as it sounds, I cannot WAIT for you all to hear it.

I won’t give away much just yet – but suffice it to say that musically it’s our most adventurous and expansive sonically, and very focussed songwriting has emerged from those initial improvisations we made in April last year.

John has wrought magic with lyrics and melodies that speak to me very personally. His words suggest that there’s great comfort to be found in the very fabric of our lives and in the journey we’re all on, in these often deeply troubling times. Some of his strongest lyrics to date.

Alison has written and arranged extraordinarily moving string parts on this record; after the Lightship 95 sessions, we left her alone to really explore the initial studio edits and she has delivered her most inventive, expressive and individual work yet I think.

Mariya has worked her magic with not just synths, but most incredible textures, loops she’s created and unusual/beautiful vocals – as well as laying waste to all before her with that might Moog bass! (And our album features a guest appearance from her very talented six-year old daughter - who is also my partner in sofa-based space travel).

This time too – as you may remember – we were chuffed to have the inestimable bass guitar skills of Sonny Johns as part of the initial jams – his bass lines bring McCartney-esque lyricism and drive to many of the tracks.

Sonny Johns - author of beautiful bass guitar lines and bloody ace engineer on our new album.

And I’m pretty made up about the drum sounds! The floating Lightship 95 studio at London’s Trinity Buoy Wharf has one of the best live rooms of any studio space we’ve used – that heavy iron hull surrounded by water must have had something to do with it (combined with the top engineering skills of Sonny and Lightship’s own super-talented @JoyStacey_)

It’s been a wonder to me how John has brought such centred, songwriting focus to the studio improvisations which have made the final cut from the 26 or so initial pieces we recorded.

Reflecting on all this - is it egotistical to say I’m kinda proud that as a band we are uncompromising in making music that comes directly from the heart, from instinct? In my blog piece from April last year, I wondered if ‘life coming at us’ would find its way onto this new record. I feel it has in ways that really excite me. There’s something magical in the alchemic process of taking improvised music and working methodically to uncover it’s meaning; the excitement I feel about our new record is rooted in how our own human responses have found expression in this record in a way they perhaps haven’t before as a four/five person collective – emphatically and honestly – and without regard for how a fickle, fashion-oriented music industry might receive it. Arrogant as all this may come over – it does seem fitting for a record that marks a 10-year anniversary for The Little Unsaid.

We can only hope you enjoy it and it finds a place in your lives. I’ve probably said too much now and will get battered by the others. Oh well.

And sorry for the gaps in communication these past months; while we have been committed to taking our time in making the best album we can, life stuff has landed for all of us in different ways, preventing us from keeping you up to speed in the way we’d have wished. Our John is a busy man – and the recent arrival of his gorgeous lad Noah brings another dimension to that! No doubt many of you will have heard ‘February Songs’ – his album written and recorded in the presence of Noah in the first weeks of his life. Do check this on Bandcamp if you haven’t already. It’s a heart-warming late winter beauty. https://johnpatrickelliott.bandcamp.com/album/february-songs
Oh – and my wee Yorkshire buddy is once more about to perform his live score for the London-run of ‘Kenrex’ – the ground-breaking play written by the hugely-talented Jack Holden. Get yourselves to Southwark Playhouse between 14 February – 15 March if you can! https://southwarkplayhouse.co.uk/productions/kenrex/

Mariya and Alison too have tremendously busy working lives outside of the band – among which - have you checked their ambient electronic duo project ‘Tvoya’ yet? Their debut EP ‘Akasha’ has been out some time and new releases are on the way. https://linktr.ee/tvoya .They’ve already made BBC6 Music’s ‘Fresh on The Net’ and have twice played at Glastonbury. Their music is extraordinary and lovely. They’re also much-in-demand musicians on other projects.

All of which helps keep the wolf from the door in a tricky music economy. That’s not a moan, it just means we have to be creative in every sense as independent musicians – but which also has the beneficial effect of preserving and feeding our beloved joint project in The Little Unsaid. It remains a labour of love – not something we have to endlessly flog and in some ways devalue in order to keep the lights on. It’s joyful.

Finally - despite the lengthy gestation of our new album, don’t think for a minute we’ve forgotten you; your support in making this record – your faith in us via your pre-order of a record you know nothing about, together with unending messages of encouragement and excitement are genuinely everything to the band.

So friends: next up to share with you will be the album release date, distribution of pre-orders, and…early autumn UK tour dates!

Thank you so much for your patience and love. I’m off to walk a very large dog (my spirit animal & ultimate doofus) in that forest next door. I may befriend a wild pig.

All love,

Tim (& John, Mariya & Alison). xxx

Signing off those final tweaks in South London, February 2025.

New Album Ahoy! A Little Light(ship) reading.

PART ONE: THE BLANK PAGE. (GULP).

Hello all, Tim here.

Just coming down from an intense but massively enjoyable few days, re-united with the band to start making a new record on a boat (which did literally rock) on the River Thames, thanks to support from many of you, which overwhelmed us.

I’m going to periodically try and keep a journal of how this new record unfolds, conjured as it is from thin air. No map. No songs to start with. No release date. Just faith in our process as a band plus your active involvement as we go.

A quick rewind: when the idea first came up to make an album this way, from a series of wholly improvised creative sessions, untroubled by schedules and machinations of the record industry – we found the concept hugely exciting because for the first time it meant – if we could pull it off – that we would have the time for unrestrained creativity, responding to the world as it came at us in the moment. However, after a year of being away from all things TLU, we had no idea how we’d go about this.

But then, our beautiful community of fans around the band came together to fund the record to at least the point where it would see the light of day in some format. That blew our minds. To us, it meant that the direct connection we sense with fans at shows was a very real thing indeed, even after so long, even with other financial demands many of you face. And that you had faith enough to indulge this open-ended concept.

And while so many of those who make and release music these days struggle to be heard at all thanks to the hegemony of the algorithmic world, chance, commercial concerns and blind luck, we realised that we don’t have to bother ourselves (too deeply) with that. No, what sustains our band is Connection and Community with you, made in guitar bars, pub back rooms, arts centres, music venues and festivals across the UK (and occasionally beyond) over TEN YEARS. Folks paying for recorded music, paying to see that music played live, telling their friends and telling us what they think and feel about it all. Even after Covid took a wrecking ball to the fragile live music ecosystem. So thank our lucky stars for you, basically. We’re keeping it old school, like human to human. Screw the algorithm. That has to be the way forward for us always.

We’re not tilting at windmills here; the digital genie is (as I wrote without intended irony on Instagram recently) out of the bottle and it has its place in accessing our music. But while many of the gatekeepers in our business use followers and streams as a measurement of artistic merit, it’s not something we can devote energy to as it wreaks havoc with your soul.

So the direct connection we’ve always enjoyed with you folks that buy our music and see our shows became an obvious starting point; why not make this new record with you on board for the ride –perhaps witnessing the shambolic process of making and recording our music for the first time?

Jump cut to Lightship 95 Recording Studio at Trinity Wharf, London, April 18th 2024; Mariya, Alison, John and I in front of our instruments, wired into some top-notch recording gear in the lovingly-converted bowels (bilge?) of a very large red boat. And barely a clue about what would happen when our engineer Sonny Johns called ‘rolling’ through our headphones. We hadn’t played together for over a year.

Not pictured: blank drummer.

But I think the combined excitement of making new music together after so long, knowledge of eachother’s capabilities, plus anticipation of what any of us would generate in the moment –eliminated any pressure to perform well. Everything was valid. We genuinely felt free to roam long and winding musical passageways, sometimes an idea gaining traction immediately, other times required us having the confidence to indulge the smallest idea until something promising emerged – or it was jettisoned and we’d move on. Intermittently, our trusty Lightship mildly unnerved us, rocking with the coming and going of passing boats or the tide. (Is this what Radio Caroline felt like?).

Underway at last (me hearties, arrrr).

And anything could and did prompt us to begin playing - any musical or rhythmic phrase, wooden thing tapped, metallic thing bashed or plucked. John gently exploring on piano or guitar, with yet another thematic phrase emerging after a time, for us to coalesce around as a unit; the thing that always fascinates me about him is his innate ability to make whatever instrument, gadget or object he’s playing express something unique, in a unique way – but how quickly that expression becomes a relatable, living thing.

Or Mariya live-looping traditional Bulgarian sung phrases and improvising around them, using her electronic set-up to create texture and pulse and melodic phrases – or perhaps plucking piano wires to set us all off on an entirely different journey.

Alison on a mission to divine the most visceral sounds I’ve heard her play from her viola/pedal set up, while as always totally complementing whatever else she’s hearing around her with melodic fragments. Equal parts composer Alexander Borodin and a Mica Levi soundtrack, to my ears. Force of nature, that one.

For my own part, besides (hopefully) keeping time for the others in whatever imaginative way I could, I’d actually come up with a few rhythmic and sampled musical phrases ideas back at home in Denmark over the preceding weeks and was keen to lay them out for the band.

Lots of mud for the wall.

Mariya leading a magical improvisation, plucking piano strings.

We were occasionally joined by Sonny on bass guitar, adding rhythmic drive with an old school funky edge – the dude’s playing/punchy bass sound reminds me of Carol Kaye for some reason. (Although he himself is a large Yorkshireman resembling a friendly viking).

Rare glimpse of large red-bearded engineer/bassman extraordinaire, Sonny Johns (Ali Farke Toure, Tony Allen, Isaac Birituro, Polar Bear & many more) at the controls, with the inestimable skills of Joy Stacey assisting.

It’s possible that early on enthusiasm made us play more than listen to start with – keen as we were to make noises in this glorious setting, but soon we settled into our usual way of playing in support of eachother to make something whole.

Provoking and Prompting in action.

Some way through day two, John dished out his hand-written prompt/provocation cards – short instructions to play with a certain intention or limitation (his version of Eno’s ‘Oblique Strategy’ cards). Things like ‘Rave at the end of the world’ / ‘NO CYMBALS’ / ‘It’s all about Col Legno, baby!’ pushed us all to start an improvisation from a very different headspace. What a lad.

At risk of sounding horribly pretentious, I found the moments we really came together to be quite other-worldly; I got lost in them, at times not even conscious of what my limbs were doing as I played drums, colouring in around the beautiful sounds the others were making in that moment. We’d stop occasionally to discuss chord sequences and rhythmic notions, like in Peter Jackson’s extended ‘Let It Be’ but without anyone flouncing off in a huff. The band at its best I feel.

Oh, and sorry again about the Internet crapping out on us during our video feed, for those of you that watched. Gah.

Listening sessions where top sport was flicking grapes at the back of Sonny’s head, til he spun round and glared.

Three or four extended jams might give way to coffee and listening sessions immediately after. And also friends catching up, on the chilly sunlit deck above, enjoying our time together.

All too quickly, the sessions were over. 25 or more solid/fragile musical improvisations in under three days. At this point, we have no idea which will pass muster and take shape, eventually, as songs. We may use just a fragment to create something else. We may use some to segue with others. We may have struck gold if that isn’t reaching. It’s a collage approach, and it’s kind of fascinating to work this way, to trust entirely to process itself.

During our time apart, my bandmates have had life coming at them, just like everyone, all the time. What expression of any of that has crept into these recordings? How will that eventually connect with you, in your own private world? Or maybe our musical impulses were blissfully unconnected to any real world stuff – just an expression of soul? I have no idea, I hit things with sticks, remember.

I’m heading home to Scandinavia next week and I’m looking forward to the journey home to regroup and reflect on the meaning of it all, for surely it all has meaning, however opaque at first. My hope is that this music will create still more connection, perhaps the personal becoming universal as it often seems to.

Til next time! Be well, maybe see you at an ‘Unboard Meeting’ online (campaign subscribers) soon.

We’ll update you all soon. Keep it salty, landlubbers.

Love, Seasick Tim