DOUNE THE RABBIT HOLE
NOSE TO THE SINGING IN
GROUND TONGUES
David Pollock speaks to Billy Fuller of psych-rock trio BEAK> about their indefi nable sound and rather weird album-title formatting
Welsh musician Gwenno talks to Craig Angus about acceptance, why language is important and her current favourite cheese
P H O T O :
I H O L L N J O N E S
P H O T O
: J E N A B E L L
W hen Bristolian psych-rock trio BEAK> started recording their debut album in 2009, they had barely spoken to one another. ‘We turned up in the studio, got our instruments out, the engineer turned some mics on, and I just started playing a bassline,’ says the band’s Billy Fuller. ‘Everyone began to play along, but we didn’t even talk to each other, we just recorded it. That was the fi rst song on the fi rst record, the product of us being shy and not knowing what to say, really.’
After 2009’s eponymous debut album and 2012’s follow-up, >>, the band only released their third record, >>>, last year, although Fuller points out they’ve maintained a presence with a number of singles and the soundtrack for Tom Geens’ 2005 fi lm Couple in a Hole. Their sound is indefi nable but rooted in a particularly classic and off-kilter sensibility, grabbing diverse inspiration from early electronica, horror-folk and Krautrock. ‘It’s called the third album,’ says Fuller, when asked if the diverse album-naming system is a veiled Neu! reference. ‘People think it’s “Three Chevrons” or “Three Times Greater Than” or “Three Beaks” . . . It’s just the third album; we’ve always been awkward sods and this is an extension of that.’ Their sound has always been deeply rooted in improvisation, although lately they’ve yielded to using the occasional overdub. Onstage, however, it’s a different story. ‘We play live with pretty much zero improvisation going on,’ says Fuller. ‘What we do is relearn what we improvised in the studio and play it again. People may fi nd that odd, but we want to put on a good show. I’ve been to loads of improv gigs and some of them are great, but 80% are terrible; there’s nothing worse that hearing gloomy rock going on and on and on. We’re aware of that, so we keep the improv for our own amusement, you know?’’
BEAK> play Doune the Rabbit Hole, Sat 20 Jul.
I n her previous lives, Gwenno Saunders was a dancer in Michael Flatley’s Lord of the Dance in Las Vegas and spent much of her twenties travelling the world with critically acclaimed pop group the Pipettes. But she’s making the defi ning work of her career right now. ‘It’s just naturally happened as I’ve grown older and stopped trying to run away from myself,’ she says. ‘That level of acceptance is therapeutic.’
The idea of embracing and celebrating one’s identity is paramount in Gwenno’s music. Following her debut solo album, the Welsh language (and Welsh Music Prize-winning) Y Dydd Olaf, Gwenno turned to another minority tongue. Le Kov is a truly unique proposition; how many radio-friendly pop records are made in Cornish, a culture kept alive only by the diligence and commitment of a tiny group? ‘It was about taking ownership over a language I’d been given [her father Tim Saunders is a well-known Cornish poet] and trying to understand its history,’ she says. ‘It was a tribute to the people that speak it more than anything. It’s amazing that it exists at all considering the battering it’s had.’ The trilingual Saunders grew up in Cardiff’s Riverside, where around 90 languages were spoken in total. ‘I think the respect of that diversity is key, and I see my languages in that context; it just makes the world richer that we are culturally diverse within our communities. There’s nothing better than getting another perspective on the world, whether that be culturally, musically or linguistically. I think that needs to be celebrated.’
Saunders continues to take her live show on the road, celebrating both her own idiosyncrasies and those of the communities close to her. Le Kov’s ‘Eus Keus’ (translated as Is There Cheese?) is a stand-out, with Saunders taking it upon herself to engineer and command a mass singalong. ‘I’m an enormous fan of cheese,’ admits Gwenno, who cites the Cornish Kern as a current favourite. ‘It’s harvesting, it’s farming, it’s something we’ve done for thousands of years; it’s the fabric of who we are,’ she says, briefl y impassioned, adding, ‘it’s ridiculous too, to shout about cheese. It takes the edge off the seriousness a bit.’
Gwenno plays Doune the Rabbit Hole, Sat 20 Jul.
1 Jun–31 Aug 2019 THE LIST 41