Running Orders

We spent a lot of time listening to the tracks on this album in different sequences...trying to find a good sequence in which to present it. This is a traditional issue in record-making - because a song can flatter or kill the one following it. It was easier in the days of vinyl, because you were dealing with two distinct suites of music - Side 1 and Side 2 - and it was relatively easy to divide the material into two groups of say 5 or 7 songs. But when CDs came along, you suddenly had a continuous stream of up to 80 minutes of music to deal with.

Now we're in a different era again, where many people are downloading tracks individually and you really have no idea in what order (or in what company) they're going to be listening to the works. Nonetheless, as though downloading didn't yet exist, we put in a lot of time trying to come up with an order that sounded good if you played it through from beginning to end.

To give you an idea of the dimensions of this problem: I was working with a band once on an album of 15 tracks, and we were starting to wonder about how to sequence them. Someone in the band said "Couldn't we just listen to all the alternatives?". I decided to work out how long this would take. The number of sequences is 15x14x13x12x11x10x9x8x7x6x5x4x3x2x1.... which comes to a magnificent 1,307,674,368,000 - or approximately 1.3 trillion possible sequences. If each of these sequences takes an hour to hear, that amounts to about 150 million years of continuous listening. If you'd like to sleep and have a social life, you should multiply that by 3, which would take it up to 450 million years - so you'd need to have started listening around the middle of the Paleozoic Era, surrounded by puzzled very early life forms, to have met the deadline of early July, 2011 in the Holocene Era.

Clearly, for us mortals, going through all the alternatives isn't an option. So Rick and I, both unfortunately mortal, listened on 'random shuffle' - just let the CD player throw the tracks out in any order, and paid attention to combinations which made sense (or sounded dreadful). That's how we built up the running order, but there was one fly in the ointment: BREATH OF CROWS. Whatever we seemed to do, that one didn't seem to sit comfortably. It really wanted to be all alone, separated from everything else. That's why we put the one minute silence in...so that, for those listening to the album as a continuous experience, there'd be a hiatus before it started. ( It isn't a silence actually - I put some white noise, fake tape hiss, in there...to make a psychological cue that something was still happening.)

My suggestion is to occasionally listen to the album on random shuffle. It produces some nice surprises, like suddenly noticing a track you hadn't really noticed before.

Words for the EP Panic of Looking

in the future

in the future
in that far façade
on that horizon 
beyond the cars
bleating servers
beneath the stars
where city mist has risen. 
to fall in shards
as something else
beyond steel and glass
beyond steel, and glass
when parades give way
beyond stack and grey
to the solace of grass
the solace of grass. 


not a story

my muon, atomity, jumping, charm
in a place in a place in a place in a place
my colour, my race, humanity, globe
my line map, my bank mat, my glow
my society, mores, my sex face, my poles
the tracks of my veins around a frame
my excretions, magnetics, kinetics and bundles
the energies, effigies, see through me's, alter e
railway lines, ley lines, wave machines, waving trees
my philosophies, holy greens, canticles, holy greeds
my tentacles, tenterhooks, opiates, spectacles.
excite me excite me excite me excite me.


panic of looking

night and day
to frost and sun
frost and sun
to smoke and fire
smoke and fire
to single cell

build and paint
to speed and weight
speed and weight
to miniature freight

flow and break
jumps wireless, opaque
and men shake hands
on invisible games.

faster and faster and further away
down there, lives and land
relics of past days
sit in between shacks
piped electric and gas
and the chattering clouds
speculate charts
hopping over aeroplane paths.

down by a lake 
the camera shakes
when he stops for the slow shot
a panic of looking at the what that we've got


if these footsteps

if these footsteps were buried feelings
feelpads
a bass drum bucking underneath the lowest bass
in a city of walkers they seem to make no sound
these heel-to-toe driven springs
but fade out somewhere at the mixing desk
beneath the squeals and weasels
overlaid by mind. 
alternatively mixed, london bridge
her segment sheets
paving would thump of feet
bipedal skeletal, bone pulse shuffle
shuffles when it dances
and dances when it walks 
footsteps as buried feelings
watch how they dance. 

watch a single swallow in a thermal sky, and try to fit its motion, or figure why it flies


west bay

west bay 
a home without the memories
where waves replace nostalgia
and welcome back the thinker
with every shift in shingle.
imagine. alone on this island
with only the stones
their timpani
and shoots of thoughts 
just germinated, free to die
or swim away to grey horizon.
except you are not alone
near a troop of watching seabirds
resting in the day.