My brother Daniel gifted me Robert Macfarlane’s book Landmarks for my birthday one year. Several years later, after a series of unfortunate events, I found myself back in Cumbria. At that pivotal moment, it was Landmarks that resonated with me. The book became a toolkit for rekindling my appreciation of the fells surrounding me once more. I felt a profound connection to Rob and the other writers and musicians featured in the book, all of whom devoted their work to capturing the essence of the natural world.
Upon learning that Rob was the patron of the Kendal Mountain Book Festival, conveniently located nearby, I promptly reached out to offer my assistance. I was thrilled when he responded with an invitation to collaborate at the festival. We organized an event called Music On Nature, which aimed to bring together writers and musicians for semi-improvised performances. Together, we performed excerpts from ‘Ness’. It was truly electrifying.
For some broader context regarding the book, Ness can be described as an epic surrealist poem. The story is set on Orford Ness, a significant shingle spit in Suffolk, largely isolated from the mainland by the salty River Ore. This site served as a Ministry of Defence weapons development location during both World Wars and the subsequent Cold War. Ness is where RADAR was developed, camouflage was created, and where bombs were first attached to aircraft. Consequently, it was here that missiles intended for atomic payloads were tested and perfected.
In 1993, the site was acquired by the National Trust, which effectively allowed for a process of rewilding to begin. Thus, Ness embodies a peculiar duality: on one side, it stands as a deteriorating monument to the anxious visions of a future we now inhabit; on the other, it flourishes as a vibrant shingle ecosystem, teeming with unique plants and wildlife.
In very general terms, the book narrates a tale of elemental natural forces prevailing over the ominous developments in weaponry. The brilliance of the work lies in how impersonal scientific language is seamlessly blended with a heartfelt expression of the living beings that have made their home on Ness. The text is poetic and possesses a musical rhythm – the words flowed effortlessly into songs. Stanley Donwood’s haunting black and white illustrations offer additional insights into the mysterious, often gothic ambiance surrounding this “untrue Island”.
From the very beginning, I perceived Ness as reminiscent of “desert music”. This was not only because I was providing a soundtrack for a constantly shifting dune-like landscape, but also because the narrative of Ness reflects the earlier pioneers whose firearms secured the Wild West. It is music of the frontiers, for moments when technology surpasses society’s ability to manage its own creations. The eerie melodies I composed to Rob's words became the foundation on which the album was built.
Jack McNeill, a clarinet player, also performed at Music On Nature that evening. I was captivated by the pure sound he produced from his instrument. To me, his music resonated as the very voice of wood. Enthusiastic about the early versions of Ness, Jack quickly offered to contribute himself and his orchestral ensemble, Propellor. Shortly thereafter, we were joined by Rob’s former collaborator, Kerry Andrew, a wildly inventive choral arranger. Thus, we formed a collective dedicated to capturing the diversity of Ness. It was a shared mission, unhindered by ego or personal agendas.
I view the words of Ness as akin to those of Dylan Thomas or James Joyce, whose melodious prose is always just a note away from music. Rob is an exceptionally generous collaborator, which likely accounts for the impressive range of music he has participated in. After experiencing the initial sketches, he entrusted me with full creative freedom over the work. Naturally, when you're handed the keys to a sports car, it's hard not to accelerate towards the horizon.
I discovered that being unencumbered by lyrical responsibilities allowed me the space to explore different forms of storytelling. The wide variety of instruments featured in the record presented a significant challenge for my first endeavor as a producer and engineer. However, I’ve been fortunate to collaborate with some exceptional producers over the years and seemingly absorbed enough knowledge to successfully tackle the task.
I allocated a month for recording the album, but it ultimately took nine. As the potential of the music began to unfold, I realized that the project would demand much more from me than just a minimal contribution. I had to embody Ness. I shared its shame, its horrors, its sorrows, its hopes, and its joys. Essentially, by becoming Ness, I felt more in touch with myself. I had discovered a new sound to convey that humanity.
It might be tempting to view this album as less personal, but my own identity was interwoven with Ness, and conversely, Ness became a part of me. The same lifeforce that inspired Robert Macfarlane to write the book surged through me like an electrical current. Ness
My brother Daniel gifted me Robert Macfarlane’s book, Landmarks, for my birthday one year. Several years went by before a series of unfortunate events led me to a new living situation.