Half Film plays trance music. Not the mindless beat-driven sort you find in sweaty clubs, but the kind of sounds that put you into a deeply meditative state where you confront your deepest fears and converse with your truest self. What little writing I can find about them dubbed them slowcore, a sub-genre which, like most things branded with the unfortunate –core suffix, barely scratches the surface of defining an aesthetic. They’re slow in the way evolution is slow, their music unfolding at a snail’s piece, substituting traditional song structure and climaxes for a measured burn of emotion. Perhaps more than anything they’re cinematic, carefully crafting scenes with repeated motifs, scenes unfolding like blooming flowers as Eimer Devlin, Conor Devlin and Jason Larkis narrate what feels like the end of the world over brooding textures and measured, haunting guitar lines.

It’s been over a decade since Half Film split. The San Francisco trio released two LPs during their short run – 1998’s East of Monument and its 2000 follow-up, The Road to the Crater, both of which were  re-released by Hidden Shoal Recordings late last year.

The three have since scattered across the world – Jason hovered around California and now resides in Berkeley where he’s working on a new record for his sort-of-solo project Mist and Mast. In 2002, Conor and Eimer joined with members of Swell to form [the] caseworker (whose Letters from the Coast is also available through Hidden Shoal) before going on an extended in hiatus in 2006. Conor moved to South Africa and now lives in Switzerland; Eimer left for Ireland but is back in Northern California. Along with the rest of [the] caseworker, they’ve spent the last few years demoing a third record by e-mail which they hope to complete in April. Over the last month I corresponded with Jason, Eimer and Conor about Half Film, San Francisco and the ills of the music industry.

“We never felt [our records] got properly released for reasons I won’t go into,” Jason tells me over e-mail. I probe for a few days but it seems the frustrations are too deep to dig up. Eimer offers the same sentiment: “Just reading some of the references to old acquaintances gives me a stomach ulcer.” Conor opts not to name names, but chalks his discontent up to “a bottomless well of incompetence,” – label mismanagement, perennially intoxicated distributors and plain bad luck.

Half Film – ‘Coated’

Yet the resonance of the music over-powers any lingering angst over the machinations of a bloated industry. How could it not? Every track on East of Monument is catchy in the strangest possible way – almost anti-catchy. The songs embed themselves into that strange part of your brain that’s active when you’re halfway between sleep and wakefulness.

“I have very good memories of writing the songs, the rehearsals, hanging out,” Conor says. “But as others will tell you, I find having to listen to the records very traumatic. I feel they were never as good as what we (or maybe just I) heard in our heads, and there’s a gap between what you want to do and what you’re capable of.  And when I hear the records, I’m hearing that gap and I assume everyone else hears it too. Having said that, when I had to hear the songs again recently to make sure the re-mastering went to plan, I could still hear very clearly what we were trying to express at the time, and I thought it was an honest expression of who and what we were at the time. We weren’t faking anything. ”

Eimer puts it another way: “I commute over the Golden Gate bridge a few times a week and since listening to the Half Film records again, as my bus approaches the bridge in the evening in my head I hear Con and Jay singing Hang and it gets me in the gut every time. I think that song means the most to me of any Half Film song.” Listening to Hang, it’s easy to get that same sense of despairing endless space; as the closing track on East of Monument, it carries the heart-breaking weight of an elegy to a something precious long since lost.

Half Film – ‘Machines, Hawks And The Perfect Equation’

“Listening to the old Half Film discs – especially East of Monument – gives me a sense of nostalgia I don’t get from recordings of any of my other bands throughout the years,” says Jason. “I listen to ‘Coated’ and I get visions of the patterns on the walls of a club we played, the smell of a bar we hung out in.

“Another thing about that time – there were a lot of little scenes, but we weren’t a part of any of them. I know that’s what everyone says, but it’s true. Other band’s members had played in each others bands for years. We were content along the sidelines, going to practice, then the bar (sometimes just the bar), then back to Conor and Eimer’s to listen to the day’s record store finds.”

Conor concurs. “We were definitely not a part of the scene; it felt natural to stay away. It still does,” he says. “San Francisco feels like a long way in the past now, but it’s great to look back and to have had such a unique experience while I was there. The memories are in the records.”

East of Monument and The Road to the Crater are available now from the HSR Store as a special double CD package and individually in digital formats.

by Matt Tomich.

Hey folks! My name’s Matthew Tomich and I’m the new intern here at Hidden Shoal Recordings. I’ll be doing interviews, updates and whatever else I can to keep things interesting. First up, I spoke with Andrew Hiller, frontman for Wizards of Time, about the band’s excellent new record Will The Soft Curse Plague On?.

How did Will The Soft Curse Plague On? come about?

All of the writing was documented originally on a four track tape machine capturing the structure, guitars and vocals. Then I would recreate the songs using a music program to expound on beats, and instrument possibilities. Proofs of the mix tape tracks and the digital song versions would be studied by the rest of Wizards. We would rehearse, and pull apart each song learning our roles and improvising on top of the structure.

It was a massive growing point for all of us at that time. Jon Blair (percussion) was a guitarist in previous groups he had played in, but he learned to play drums for this project in and out of rehearsals. Jon and I would sit with each other in my apartment and work on learning the beats on kit. Wizards ended up recording a final pre-production as a full band with a friend named Jacob Raymo. This third version was used for furthering our understanding in what needed to be worked on as a band.

What was the process of making the record?

Having admired the work of Scott Solter. I thought it would be best to have him as a lead role in production of the album. We tracked all of the music in three weeks at his old studio on Baucom road in Monroe North Carolina. During that time we started understanding with the guidance of Scott what needed to be committed to tape. Wendy Allen of Boxharp appears vocally on Chief of Sinners adding as a beautiful lift at the end of the track.

One of the many processes in tracking was Scott tuning the drums to the resolve of each song. We also built different drum kits, and percussion stations for tracking. We had almost limitless sound options available at Baucom. Mike Porter and I flew back and forth over time to finish vocals, as well as be a part of the mastering process. Mixing was done using email, and on the phone with Scott. Going into the process it was understood on both sides that Scott had artistic freedom to alter the sound and design on the all of the tracks.

Mixing was done using email and having conversations on the phone with Scott about vision, and options. Going into the mixing process it was understood on both sides that Scott would have artistic freedom to altar, and design the sonic layout. Mike Porter, and I recorded the Plagues on a four track at the Dressing Room in Phoenix. We used a Casio key board, Drums, different delays, and guitar.

You’ve included six interludes which you’ve called ‘Plagues’ – why did you feel the need to separate songs with those interludes, and why call them Plagues?

The Plagues are small breaks from story line (unstable montages). It is the warning, growth, and ease towards an inevitable outcome which would be “The End”.

Given that level of complication in the mix, what have been the challenges in translating those sounds into a live context?

Wizards in the present has come down to me performing the songs solo using percussive loops that I create with my guitar. Once in awhile I will perform with the full band when we are able to, which can range from a 3 to 4 piece. To touch on the most obvious challenge would be the arranged and layered percussion. Lots of groups, including Wizards, play auxiliary percussion live, but it ultimately it doesn’t sound quite the same.

This definitely isn’t a minimalist record – every second is crammed full of textures, subtle motifs and intricate layers. What was it like trying to negotiate all these elements in the writing, recording and mixing processes?

It was eye opening, as well as a huge learning curve. Finding an understanding in sound with Scott Solter was needed for this project since I’ve personally looked up to his work for many years now. Communication and dialogue are key to execute any vision, whether that be from lyric to landscape. I personally love listening to music that reveals something that I have not heard from previous listens. It is like looking at a painting full of characters with color, and finding situations that not only stand out but make you seek.

——

Check out a few choice cuts from Will The Soft Curse Plague On? below and head to the Hidden Shoal Store to stream the album in full and purchase it in digital and CD formats. Andrew is currently preparing for a run of shows in Mexico in December and France early next year.

Wizards of Time – ‘Benjamin’

Wizards of Time – ‘Little’s Jingle’

Wizards of Time – ‘Hi My Name Is Body’

Markus Mehr has just released his epic new album In, the follow-up to his critically acclaimed solo debut Lava, and the first in an ambitious yet perfectly realised trilogy, completed by the forthcoming On and Off. Markus chatted to video artist Stefanie Sixt about his music, her visuals, and their ongoing collaboration. Check at the bottom of the interview for competition details.

Markus Mehr: Although I work with you, Stefanie, I’m not physically with you when you start to collect material and ideas to generate the visuals for our collaboration. Please tell us more about this process and your approach on my piece ‘Transit’ (featured in part three of the trilogy, Off, to be released in January 2013)?

Stefanie Sixt: Well, the process is always dependent upon the subject and the sound. In the case of ‘Transit’, it all started with research about life, death and the question of a spiritual life after. Posing a thousand philosophical questions and reaching almost no answers, I had to make a decision about how to visualise an abstract field.

During my walks in nature with my dog, Sanzcha, I started taking fuzzy black-and-white photographs of light reflections. I’m using animation to create new worlds out of the footage, which in most cases aren’t reminiscent of the original shots at all. Turning the world upside down – that’s fun! Not everything is what it seems to be. We are just some narrow-minded humans, trying to understand a bit more of the world. Speaking of understanding, how did you get the idea to create a 50-minute piece comprising one repetitive mantra? Didn’t you worry that it would bore an audience to death?

MM: ‘Transit’ actually comprises two different themes, so the piece has an A/B/A/B/A structure. By the time we were talking about collaborating on a new performance, I was working on a piece of music that would later become the B section of the composition. This particular part perfectly fitted what we’d been talking about in terms of theme. It’s the harmonic, bright and friendly part of the track. It loops around itself very slowly. I call it an electronic canon! Cyclical sounds or patterns are something you can find in almost all of my music, especially In, On and Off.

SS: What prompted you to use your toothbrush to create sound?

MM: A sense of fun and curiosity! I’m still fascinated by people like Keith Rowe, for example. He experimented with using things on the guitar; I tried something on my own. Devices like shavers or ventilators held over a guitar’s pick-up can do some really interesting things and create nice noises. Combining these two patterns turned out to be my inspiration on ‘Transit’. However, in comparison to ‘Komo’ (from In) or ‘Synchron’, the work on the live version of ‘Transit’ was a much closer collaboration between the two of us.

SS: On our first project, ‘Cousteau’ (from Lava), we worked pretty much on our own until we got on stage.

Now we’re influencing each other while we’re creating the piece and rehearsing the performance. It’s much more complex, I would say. In your opinion, what do the visuals add that music can’t express?

MM: For our live performances, the visuals are very, very important. It opens up new dimensions, intensifying and deepening the viewer’s emotional response. Our work together is really falling into place. Not all visual work fits my music – and vice versa. However, when it comes to listening to my albums, the music has to stand on its own. My approach is to offer a package of sound, sometimes brutal and distorted, sometimes moody, melancholic and relaxed, when we play live. But following up on my first question, the visuals on ‘Transit’ have a very clear, almost technocratic appeal, but without being cold.

SS: Maybe it’s due to the origin of the visuals – it’s all organic. Within the process, the technocratic aspect is added. In the end, this might evoke the emotions people tell us about. Your sound compositions are similar, aren’t they? Even though your sounds sometimes build up into pure noise, there’s always enough melodic space to sink into. That’s why I’m into your music.

MM: Very often the starting point is a musical phrase I found somewhere. Most of the time a harmony or melody attracts my attention. Once I’m attracted by a phrase I start to play around with it and see if the idea for a piece emerges. A lot of the time I do reject things because nothing comes up at all. But when an idea starts to work, the excitement builds. Arranging, distorting and playing around with the fragments is a very satisfying part of the process. It becomes easy, once you have a vision. I hope people will like it.

SS: I’m convinced they will. Your music is like a dialogue, an inner journey. It’s awesome to add my visuals to your music, taking the audience even further on this audiovisual trip.

Markus Mehr’s new album In is available now in limited edition CD and digital formats from the Hidden Shoal Store. We are also offering a CD copy of Markus Mehr’s Lava for one lucky winner. All we require is for you to tell us the name of the 2nd track on Mehr’s latest release In. Send your answer to contact[at]hiddenshoal.com with “Markus Mehr Competition” in the subject line. You’ve got until April 21st, 2012.

This week on the HSR blog we delve into the wondrous musical and sonic mind of Scott Solter. Scott’s stunning album One River was re-released by Hidden Shoal in 2011 and ended up on a number of end of year best of lists and scooped some deservedly glowing reviews. Scott is of course also one half of the amazing Boxharp along with Wendy Allen and their band of merry contributors. And let’s not forget his work with Balustrade Ensemble and his ridiculously awesome list of production credits.

Hidden Shoal’s Cam Merton recently dropped five questions on Scott.

CM: How did One River come about? Your previous release under your own name, The Brief Light (Manifold Records, 2003), was markedly different in its pallet and aesthetic.

SS: The pieces began as improvisations with guitar and tape loops. There was no agenda at first. The Brief Light, on the other hand, was music that grew out of teaching myself how to record audio. I had collected a number of instruments over the years that I was too lazy to practice, but when I got the itch to learn record making I pulled out everything and started banging away.

CM: There is a level of compositional complexity at play in One River that may not be immediately apparent depending on your listening mode. Can you talk about this and perhaps expand on your compositional process for One River?

SS: Compositionally it was impulsive and improvised in its technique. I was looking at various images of water and wondered what sort of music they would make. Simple idea. Technically speaking I would build a melody slowly and continue adding harmony until it felt musical. From there it was about how shallow or deep, calm or volatile to take it. After each piece was constructed I’d look for more undercurrents using various tape machine playback speeds. Eventually all the machines were set in motion and mixed live.

CM: I believe that works such as One River require a special mode of listening to fully appreciate. Do you think that it’s important for music to ask something of the listener?

SS: Maybe the proper mode is really just giving space and time for listening. Hopefully the work is compelling enough to firstly draw someone’s attention. I do like a certain open landscape or emotional neutrality to exist in the music so as to offer a listener the chance to plug in their own narratives.

CM: You’ve produced, mixed, engineered for indie (I apologise for the term) artists like Mountain Goats, John Vanderslice, Superchunk, Pattern is Movement and Erik Friedlander to name but a few. What, if anything, do you take from this work into your solo work and also your work with Boxharp? Inversely what do your bring from your own work into these sessions?

SS: The methods of approach are always a work in progress. I like to bring as much of my sensibility to the event as I can but it depends on the variables of the project. On the surface, a lot of these records sound drastically different in tone. Some of them have allowed me to build from the ground up, giving me a great deal of creative license. Others have very limited schedules or resources, requiring me to hit the ground running. Maybe there’s a connection between them that sits deeper. I’m not sure. However, as I move forward in my work I do feel that certain methods have begun to thread themselves through all of the projects.

CM: What’s next for you in solo mode and also for Boxharp?

SS: Several records in the works… Grant Miller and I are close to finishing a new Balustrade Ensemble record that should be ready in soon. There’s also a collection of dark dubs I’m putting together with Rohner Segnitz that I’d like to see released. Boxharp has a great deal of material assembled and recorded that should result in a full length and some singles. There’s also a follow up to One River that should be finished in a few months.

I guess that’s it for now, thanks :^D

“Twins and Wives: a film for One River” by Mark Solter and Laura Solter (DVD release coming early 2012)

Ok, so we only managed to get a few articles and lists up on this blog before the monster of a relentless release schedule swallowed us whole. Well you’ll be pleased to know that we’ve found an extra 3 hours in the day, previously unknown to the ordinary working man and/or woman. This means the HSR Blog shall ride once more! Expect interviews with our artists, mixtapes, music lists from the label folk and artists alike, album track by tracks along with all sorts of tomfoolery, shennanigans and general hijinx. First cab off the rank is Liam Singer with his fave top 5 albums of the moment and then following that a wonderful track by track description of Dislocatia.

Boxharp’s superb new single ‘The Green‘ was released last week and is currently available for free download from the Hidden Shoal Store. Snap it up – it’s an incandescent tune, rich in Scott Solter’s trademark production details and swimming in the dreamy vocals of Wendy Allen.

Ahead of the release of the album of the same name, I had a brief email chat with Scott and Wendy:

Tim: First up, how did you and Scott end up working together? You both have pretty extensive musical resumes…
Wendy: How we came to work together is really the story of how we met. Scott had just started engineering and was working on his first album, The Brief Light. He was looking for a singer and my roommate, who was working with him at the time, recommended me. We just kept working together in various capacities from then on.

What are your main sources of inspiration, musical or otherwise?
Wendy: Both melodically and lyrically, I most often start with a question; what would happen if I…? or What would it be like if were…?
Scott: I’m often moved by visual references from Francis Bacon, Joel-Peter Witkin, Brothers Quay, and Joseph Cornell. For music, I’m drawn towards the very dense or very minimal.

How does a Boxharp song come into being? Do you write separately or together? Is it a simple division of labour, with Scott covering all the music and you covering all the vocals? When do the lyrics come?
Wendy: We usually start with one of us introducing a very simple idea or element. We ping pong back and forth over a period of time, then sit together and collaborate to complete the piece in a few days. Sometimes lyrics come first; sometimes a rhythm comes first and the lyrics come last.

With The Green due for release very soon, do Boxharp have plans to tour?
Yes, we plan to tour.

Finally, coffee or tea?!
Coffee in the morning, tea in the afternoon, Jameson in the evening.

Boxharp – The Green Boxharp – The Green

Last month the gentlemen from The Caribbean headed down to Austin Texas for one of the biggest music conferences in the world, South by South West, with their US label Hometapes. So we thought we’d take a moment to catch up on all the news, post festival.

First and foremost, how was SxSW? Stories to share?
Saw a lot of comics walking around: Brian Posehn, Sandra Bernhard, Eugene Mirman. Saw a lot of dickheads walking around, too. Dave tried to throw a beer bottle over the Emo’s Annex tent just to see if he could… Turns out you can.

Who in your opinion is a must hear artist today?
Besides us?

Of course.
Hairy Pussy, Wolf Eyes, Van Dyke Parks.

Describe for the readers the music scene over in Washington?
Like everywhere else, I suppose, splintered and complex. More stuff going on than you can keep track of. Used to be pretty monolithic, with Dischord being kind of the source for everything, but lots of other interesting stuff going on now, too.

Who or what are your main sources of inspiration and why?
Mostly, things we mishear. The best songs are the ones misheard from a distance, through crowds of people, and entire elements are misplaced sonically or drowned out due to acoustics. Or inadvertently combined with other songs playing in the same space. Happened at SXSW a lot. The original song is never as interesting as the one misheard.

Can you please describe to the lovely people your writing process.
One of us will hear a weird sound somewhere, record it on cassette or whatever is available, then we all keep adding to it until it takes a shape we like. Then we spend hundreds of hours listening to it and talking about it, then add parts in quick takes until we feel it’s what it should be.

How did the remix EP by Scott Solter eventuate?
He had done a remix record with some Hometapes labelmates of ours; we loved his style of tactile, analog deconstruction, and had to work with him. Met him at SXSW ’07 and hashed it out.

What are your plans for the foreseeable future?
Release this next record, Discontinued Perfume, on Hometapes in mid-2010, then tour relentlessly to support it until everyone knows who we are and either loves us or hates us. Also gonna drink some fortified wine in a little bit.

The Caribbean – Color Television (Scott Solter Remix) The Caribbean – Color Television (Scott Solter Remix)

Jamie Barrett