So I’m realizing my last post was kind of a bummer. There’s a reason I don’t often talk about the work that goes into the work. Like any gig that’s creative in any way, writing is tough. You’re high, you’re low. You run a story you’re excited about, you get a rejection for a pitch. And when you don’t know how to say “no” to an offer – and that describes almost every freelancer I know – you can set yourself up for far more work than you can handle.
For most of the past year, people would ask me to come out for a beer or hey, just to come out for ten minutes to get ice cream. And I would always say no, ’cause I’m on deadline. So I’m trying to change that. But I’m still working. As much as freelancing can stress me out, not writing – not working on projects that I’m excited about, that I’m proud of, where I can control whether I turn in something remarkable or just hand in something that gets the job done – is even worse.
I’m dropping my column, and I’m saying no to the day-to-day blurbs and listicles that make up most of what runs on the Internet. But I’m not done writing – in fact, no sooner had I written that post than I suddenly got busy again. I’m trying to focus on longer pieces, and new challenges. I’m working on a gaming essay, a press release for David Sylvian’s upcoming, excellent new compilation Sleepwalkers, and a newspaper feature that’ll run next spring. And I’m still making time for some pet projects. That screenshot up above comes from the game I mentioned, Ben Goes to School, which I really should post here. (Plus, I wrote a short story and submitted it somewhere. They’ll probably reject it! But it was a really fun thing to try.)
I don’t think I’ll blog here regularly – I like Twitter a lot better – but if anything cool comes up, I’ll be sure to post it. This has really just turned into a “what am I doing lately” place, but a lot of my friends keep it in their reader, and I really appreciate it. Let’s stay in touch.
I’ve recently — as in the past week — recommitted to blogging! Granted, my situation is a bit different from yours in that I hardly do any writing professionally, yet my title is editor! Wild, right?
I actually feel that sense of burnout most when I have to approach the stuff that really drives pageviews. After three years of doing it steadily, I’m not sure what sort of not-quite-music content users even want anymore. It’s an exhausting (and exhaustive) process.
Sounds like you’ve got irons in the fire! At least we’re not still trying to write about the music tech beat, which may have been the most explosive and exploded writerly pursuits in the last decade.
I like your son’s interpretation of what a Kangaroo looks like, and that I’m flying in the sky with what appear to be rocket boots. That’s some sweet Art you’ve got there. Can’t wait to (eventually, maybe) play it!
Hey Chris,
I’m assuming this is your press release for Sleepwalkers, right? Great job once again. Would you mind sharing with me the subject matter of the lyrics to the new one Five Lines?
…
DAVID SYLVIAN RELEASES NEW COMPILATION SLEEPWALKERS: FEATURES HIS GREATEST COLLABORATIONS FROM THE ‘00S, INCLUDING “WORLD CITIZEN” WITH RYUICHI SAKAMOTO, THE NINE HORSES PROJECT, AND THE NEW SONG “FIVE LINES,” A COLLABORATION WITH DAI FUJIKURA. In the ‘00s, David Sylvian produced two of his strongest and most solitary statements, Blemish and Manafon. But those records don’t tell the whole story. In the same period, Sylvian created a more playful body of work: a series of collaborations and side projects with leading talents of pop and improv, electronic and contemporary classical music. The best of these recordings are gathered here on Sleepwalkers, meticulously sequenced and remixed: the fruits of one-off meetings and lifelong partnerships, they jump from bliss to intrigue, romance to sensuality, as arch experiments lead into the lushest pop. The single “World Citizen – I Won’t Be Disappointed,” written with Ryuichi Sakamoto, is a sublime example, with an impeccable melody and lyric warmed by Sylvian’s gorgeous tenor. Sylvian has worked with Sakamoto for close to three decades. By contrast, on “Pure Genius,” a collaboration with Chris Vrenna aka Tweaker, he sounds like he’s walked into a heist flick, singing the part of a delusional, dangerous bedroom genius. As Sylvian explains, tracks like this “give me a chance to write in a way that’s completely non-personal, playful. It’s an exercise of some kind, working within the parameters of a given assignment.” Intrigue of a different kind drives “Sugarfuel,” with music by Jean-Philippe Verdin, aka Readymade FC. The lyrics offered “an opportunity to grapple with a more overt sexual theme than anything I’d attempted previously, as suggested by a vocal sample in the original track provided, a threateningly insistent ‘I’m on your side.’ So I took that as my point of entry and ran with it. I would love to write more on this subject should I find the right context. You’re always aware of walking a thin line exploring sexuality with language alone. The failings of the great and the good are strewn all around.” Sylvian’s longest-running partnership is with his brother, drummer and electronics artist Steve Jansen, and two of their projects find their way here: the Nine Horses trio with Burnt Friedman, and Jansen’s debut album (and samadhisound release) Slope. “Wonderful World” strolls in on a black tie bass line and the echoing coos of Swedish chanteuse Stina Nordenstam, whose high chirps brush hands with Sylvian’s lead; while on “Ballad of a Deadman,” his voice and Joan Wasser’s (Joan As Police Woman) roll together over the tune’s dusty blues. But Sylvian is alone again with the bitter memories of “Playground Martyrs,” while Jansen’s exquisite music recalls the orchestrated ballads of Secrets of the Beehive. Sleepwalkers also spotlights the innovators who contributed to Manafon and Blemish. Christian Fennesz hangs a crackling, shimmering curtain behind the vocal on “Transit,” matching his signature mass of sui generis sounds to Sylvian’s stately performance. And the title track began with an instrumental handed to Sylvian by Martin Brandlmayr of Polwechsel, soon after the first recording session for Manafon. Spite crackles in the gaps between the percussion, and onkyo artists Toshimaru Nakamura and Sachiko M set the stage for the scathing lyrics in the chorus. It cuts close to the bone, and so do the two spoken word cuts, “Angel” and “Thermal,” produced by samadhisound recording artist Jan Bang and Erik Honoré (and featuring Arve Henriksen on trumpet). Sylvian describes the latter work as a “love poem” to his daughter. “‘Thermal’ reflects on a period when our time in Sonoma, CA was coming to an end. We’d stayed in temporary accommodation which had lulled us into a false sense of security. We had pear, apple, lemon, and figs trees growing in the yard. A small but exotic paradise. A cocoon. But the cracks were beginning to show in the relationship between [ex-wife Ingrid Chavez] and I which is where I think this underlying sense of anxiety, which runs throughout the poem, is derived from, coupled with the need to provide physical and spiritual stability to the children, the youngest of whom was just under two at the time. The poem is addressed to her. Our world was dissipating, coming apart at the seams, but we were an island unto ourselves.” The previously unreleased “Five Lines” marks the start of a new partnership with acclaimed young composer Dai Fujikura, who is also working on remixes of Manafon for a future release. The string quartet was performed by the celebrated ICE Ensemble and written for Sylvian, who Fujikura cites as an early influence. Says Sylvian, “The composition moves through numerous changes in time signature but as I had no knowledge of what these were I just relied on my gut instinct, and responded, as I always do, with what felt right to me, composing an entirely new melody in the process. Some months later I was working in a studio in London and Dai dropped by. I rather tentatively asked if he’d like to hear a rough mix of the song as it stood, painfully aware that my contribution might make no sense to him at all but, to my relief he loved the result.” Like 2000’s Everything and Nothing, Sleepwalkers is a retrospective of the past decade – but it’s also an eye-opening complement to his solo releases. As Sylvian explains, “Some collaborations seem to be a one off exchange but you can never be too certain of that fact. Others have been long term. Ryuichi comes to mind as, of course, does Steve. And then there’s others with whom you hope to continue working as you feel you’ve barely scratched the surface. Other times offers come out of the blue, welcome, inspired. Regardless, it’s wonderful to have so many possibilities to juggle with. Each collaboration seems timely. It’s as if there’s a rightness to the exchange at a given moment in time.”
Brian, yep, that’s mine! As for the subject, I think it’s best to let you hear it and make up your own mind – but per your earlier question, it is a full song, with a melody that David wrote over Fujikura’s string quartet. I love the piece, and I’ve started checking out more of his compositions after hearing it.
Samadhi Sound has made two brief samples available for Five Lines and therefore I get what you are implying when you stress that the listener should decipher the words for themselves. Those lyrics do seem rather oblique so it would be difficult to convey any straightforward meaning behind them. The best comparison would probably be the lyrics that Sylvian came up with for his three collaborations with Derek Bailey…lots of indefinite pronouns and random situations.
It seems that Sylvian and Fujikura plan on releasing a reworked version of Manafon next year. I am not quite sure if such a venture is all that necessary but they plan on including new material as well, so that seems appealing. I still am anxious to learn if they plan on releasing the music they created with John Butcher and Eddie Prevost – “When We Return You Won’t Recognise Us”. Had Sylvian ever mentioned anything of the sort in your discussions?
Thanks
Brian