“But it’s true, when a young man sets out, he does seek approval and praise for his stuff. A little bit later you do find the confidence and you do find that other people can go fuck themselves.” -Robin Guthrie
The albums presented on the homepage of this site are arranged in a loosely-chronological order, but I’ve also shuffled them around a little here and there, to push the ones I like more a bit higher up on the list. I figure it’s exceedingly unlikely that anyone coming here for the first time would bother to scroll down too far before choosing something to check out, so I’ve highlighted some of my favourites by bumping them up a bit here and there. If this offends your rigid archival sensibilities, I’m truly sorry, but you might also want to get a hobby.
As you’ll see, I’ve written at least a little something about each entry - in some cases, it’s more like a big something. I have more to say about certain albums than others, and although I don’t in any way feel it’s necessary to read my ramblings and anecdotal nonsense in order to appreciate the music, I enjoy it as a listener/reader/viewer/fan/whatever when there’s something of a personal touch on things. Although I do, like many others, find myself susceptible to enchantment by the mystery of a record with no background info, plucked from obscurity and received like a message in a bottle, I honestly don’t feel it works that way with digital releases. Browsing Bandcamp, Soundcloud, Spotify, et al, produces no such enchantment - as useful as those tools can be, clicking an icon on a website is no surrogate for crate digging, and I find attempts at pseudo-conspiratorial internet worldbuilding to be mildly amusing at best, but more often, simply exhausting. I also find it a bit depressing as a listener when all I’m given is a more-or-less stock Bandcamp page, with a couple of tracks, barebones credits & an uninspired jpg for a cover. This may be a bit harsh, but...if you’re not excited about your work, how are you expecting me to be?
So: I write about my work. I try to make this writing as casual as I can, since, having gone to Art School™, my psyche is scarred up like a Glasgow smile, by prolonged exposure to the self-aggrandizing drivel contemporary artists are trained to write about themselves and their so-called work. Maybe one day I’ll find the mental equivalent of Korean-quality plastic surgery, and be able to rehabilitate my relationship to “writing about myself”, free from all that baggage, but for the time being, I’m fine with how I am, and with how I write. If I let the veneer of my humility slip a little, I actually consider myself to be quite a good writer, and think the thoroughbred grant-getters of the Art© world can get lost. My goal in writing about my music is to give you a slightly fuller picture of why and how I’m doing what I’m doing - this is mostly because I live in a small town, on an island, on the far western edge of a not-very-populous country, and I really just don’t have that many people around to talk to about this kind of stuff. Perhaps I’m writing into the void - who knows, and who cares?
I wrote most of the text about my music in a single day, with some edits made later on, as I caught my errors and realized which bits could be tightened up or expanded upon. For this reason, some of the album blurbs refer directly to the ones around them, and imply a reading order, as I didn’t want to cover the same ground twice in a row; you might also be able to see the points at which my enthusiasm started to founder a bit. Furthermore, having written everything in one sitting also means, of course, that these are my retrospective impressions of my own work, and in some cases I was looking back on stuff I’d made a decade earlier. So, this distance would account for some of the shifts in my preferences, and in my opinions on this heap of stuff I’ve made. Writing in early 2020 about work I did in 2015 or 2010 represents, as should be obvious, my contemporary view of the past - I know now what was coming next for the me of 5 or 10 years ago, and that affords me a specific contextual view that you don’t get when you’re writing about what you’re doing in the present. I bring this up, perhaps unnecessarily, to indicate that I’m well-aware that I may end up revising my opinions on my work again, at some point further down the line, and that a new context will reveal itself as the present recedes into the past, perhaps making my 2020 self look as hazy and foreign as 2010 me does right now.
I put some genre/style tags on each album, which appear when you hover over the thumbnail image, and you can click those to see a collection of everything tagged under that genre heading. I thought this would be helpful, as I’ve got a lot of stuff up here, and there’s honestly very little indication of what’s in store, going by cover / titles alone. If you’re looking for recommendations on where to start, or are wondering which album(s) I consider to be “most representative” of what I do, I unfortunately have to fall back on the fairly clichéd artist response of “I’m most interested in what I’m doing right now”. However, I part ways with artist clichés in the sense that, I actually really like my own work, I listen to it frequently, I’m quite proud of it, and I’m not particularly menaced by the ghouls of artistic self-loathing. I think sometimes we worry unduly that we’ll end up becoming an ego monster like Kanye if we admit that we like what we’ve done, or that we’ll get outed as uncool if we crack a smile, or admit we’re doing something so apparently-heretical as “having fun”. It seems we’re meant to regard “enjoying one’s own music” as being “masturbatory”, and to shun such unchristian behaviour accordingly. To rebut this frankly puritanical assertion, I would say, “And so what if it is? What’s wrong with a little masturbation? Or a lot, even? Should we not love ourselves as thoroughly as we’re told to love others?”
Love is the law, love under will.