Piano Magic Diaries : Part Monster

Much like the cover, this one is a bit of a blur. Our previous album, ‘Disaffected,’ had been well-received, particularly in Italy, where we’d been keen to break new touring ground. Reviews of ‘Disaffected’ were good, sales were good but the next goal was to play ever-bigger stages and thus, make some decent money from touring. Bigger stages surely required a bigger sound?

Between 2005 and 2007, we’d been prolifically writing and recording new songs, not least ‘Incurable’ which, although pretty much written and recorded in one afternoon, had become the closest thing we had to a signature tune. The strategy was to get louder, more bombastic and work with someone who could elevate our sound by a big step. Enter Guy Fixsen. Guy may have worked with the likes of My Bloody Valentine, Slowdive, House Of Love, Stereolab, The Breeders, Wire and more but it was his work with Moonshake and Laika, a duo he formed with Margaret Fiedler of the former, that really appealed to me. Moonshake, who I’d seen live several times, live, were the perfect mix of noise and electronics – exactly what Piano Magic were aspiring to be in 2007. Even so, by the end of the recording sessions, that aspiration had been somewhat diluted by the influence of Smog, Red House Painters, Sonic Youth and gosh, even The Sundays.

There’s a big difference between a band that thinks it knows what’s needed and what is actually needed. Giving the reins over to a producer requires not only trust but the ability to entertain the opinions of a second party – something none of us were known for. But Guy is an exploratory producer, always full of suggestions and not one to settle for the most obvious solution and so, the sessions with him stretched both our abilities and our imaginations.

Initial sketches for ‘Soldier Song,’ and one that didn’t make the cut, ‘Blank Page,’ were recorded in Guy’s flat in Dalston, with Guy, himself, adding double bass, although the real meat of ‘Part Monster’ was recorded over 9 days at The Fortress studio, a five storey, industrial building on the corner of Provost Street in North London. Five of those days were given over to recording, the rest to mixing, from which we were banned, by Guy, from attending – a great decision, given that we were prone to internal disagreement over these things. At the end of the 9 days, we convened for a listen, loud, on the studio’s gigantic speakers. Guy, understandably exhausted, made short shrift of our suggestions to tweak the mixes and I didn’t blame him. You bring in a producer for his ears. Otherwise, you may as well be using a sound engineer.

Guy Fixsen at the helm. Photo courtesy of http://www.guyfixsen.com

For me, the main strength of the band lay in its chemistry – the organic, near seamless interplay between the band members. Jerome was a great, inventive drummer, Al was a rock solid bass player, Franck was an ever-inspired guitarist, Cédric knew exactly what embellishment was needed, Angèle always delivered the words with the perfect balance of melancholy and mystery and I often had a way with those words. When these elements were in synch, records were made swiftly, confidently and concerts became cathartic, visceral.

Paul Heartfield’s wonderful photography for the sleeve of ‘Part Monster’ perfectly evoked my Jekyll and Hyde obsession, the suggestion of a monster within every man. After ‘Disaffected,’ we’d taken darker steps, into the streets behind Victorian hospitals where, in backroom bars, the worst of men drowned their sorrows in a half-empty glass. Blissfully unemployed at this time, I took long walks around Shoreditch, Brick Lane, Whitechapel, immersed in the streets where Jack Ripper had incited terror and Joseph Merrick had, against all odds, found hope amongst despair.

Skimming through some international press cuttings for this album recently, it became apparent that this wasn’t our warmest received record by a long chalk, yet the reviews were generally respectable. ‘Part Monster’ merely had done what we’d set out to do – open new doors and place us on at least a few bigger stages. The Radar Live Festival in Istanbul, filmed for MTV and in the company of Juliette & The Licks, CSS, Joan As Policewoman, Coco Rosie, etc, put us in front of a brand new, highly receptive audience, one that we’ve maintained ever since in Turkey. Likewise, our concert at Off Festival in Myslowice that year will stay with me a long time; playing confidently, loud, on a huge stage, to thousands of excited fans, in a Polish forest at nightfall, was just what Piano Magic were made for. This shaky live footage, from Bologna, in May 2007, suggests a band confident in its abilities to harness a titanic dynamic which, onstage, would often convince me that my feet had left the floor.

The songs :

The Last Engineer. I’d referenced my father’s profession in Piano Magic songs since the very beginning (‘Amongst Russian Lathes & Metal Curls,’ ‘For Engineers,’ etc). This song, written by Cédric Pin and I for our electropop side-project, Future Conditional, was fattened up by the band, specifically to make a racket onstage. We always loved playing it and it was the last song we’d ever play live as a band when we split in December 2016.

England’s Always Better (As You’re Pulling Away). England was a miserable place in 2007. Jingoism seemed to be taking over, plastic St George flags hanging limply in the gardens of council estates and plastered to kebab shop windows. Little did I know, it would get a lot worse. Simon Rivers, singer with The Bitter Springs, who’d guested on our earlier ‘Low Birth Weight’ album came in with lyrics that captured the grim English spirit perfectly. Years down the line from Brexit, this song has never been so poignant. Frankly, I think it should be the national anthem.

Incurable (Reprise). The original didn’t really need a reprise and although I like this version less, it provided the blueprint to subsequent live renditions, always popular at the time.

Soldier Song. As with ‘England’s Always Better,’ a swipe at patriotism, in particular, the returning soldier, convinced he was doing the right thing for Queen and country when, in truth, there wasn’t so much as a pat on the back once he stepped back on home turf. The vocal canon at the end references ‘A Return To The Sea,’ from our earlier album, ‘Artists’ Rifles.’

The King Cannot Be Found. I seem quite wracked with bitterness on this album. This track is a complaint to those heroes who promise so much but then disappear when you most need them or simply make very bad records. The only song I ever used a megaphone on.

Great Escapes. A previous attempt to record this for ‘Disaffected’ hadn’t worked out but having perfected the arrangement, live, it turned out a lot better on ‘Part Monster.’ Oddly, the original concept for this track was a Dif Juz-esque instrumental but it was beefed up for big stages. Again, lots of fun to play live, invariably attached to the end of ‘Love & Music.’

Cities & Factories. A one chord song. much in the vein of ‘You Ghost’ from ‘Disaffected’ but undoubtedly pulling a bookmark from Bill Callahan’s songbook.

Halfway Through. A melancholy reflection on middle age, of the downward slope to the faint horizon. We needed a trumpet solo. Guy called Terry Edwards, the go-to trumpet player for the likes of Nick Cave, Gallon Drunk and PJ Harvey. Terry immediately came round in a taxi and improvised on this and ‘England’s Always Better.’ The reference point for this track was somewhere between The Sundays and The Smiths, decidedly not where we were as a band at that point in time. Even so, I love it.

Saints Preserve Us. As with ‘Great Escapes,’ another track born out of the rehearsal room and tailored specifically for bigger stages. To my ears, the lyrics now seem tacked on, the sound a little too derivative. We’d wanted big, we got big but there’s no real depth to it.

Part Monster. The only track not recorded with Guy. Ironically, this turned out to be the album’s title track. In 2007, I was more than slightly obsessed with Joseph Carey Merrick, more commonly known as The Elephant Man and particularly what man might perceive as the “monster” within himself. I’ve never been able to look in a mirror without squinting. If I squint, I see perhaps who I’d rather be and not the monster within.

‘Part Monster’ is available on vinyl for the very first time on November 10th and can be pre-ordered here.

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