Mute has announced details of a series of Recoil reissues, starting with three long out-of-print albums on double coloured vinyl and CD due for release 11th November 2022:

Unsound Methods (1997), Liquid (2000) and subHuman (2007) are the final three studio albums from Alan Wilder’s Recoil project, and these new editions will be available in transparent green/clear, silver and curacao blue respectively.

Pre-order: https://mute.ffm.to/recoilreissues

Alan recently commented, “I was aware, after many fan enquiries, that several Recoil products had been out of stock for a while so I’m sure this will be a welcome release for the completists out there. Having not really listened in full to any of the Recoil albums for many years, the requirement to sit down and closely scrutinise the new test pressings meant that I was obliged to focus on everything once again. It was a surprising and pleasurable adventure to hear the work with fresh ears and I was able, perhaps properly for the first time, to experience all the detail which I had either forgotten about or hadn’t fully appreciated at the time.

On the technical side, some of the cross-fades needed to be replicated for the reissues as it became apparent they had been created live at the original cut, rather than pre-prepared when making the studio production masters (maybe this was to save a generation of transfers). We also discovered some errors in the artwork’s label copy which have been corrected – trainspotters will have a field day – so we can say these new versions are the definitive vinyl releases.”

Listen to : Drifting (from Unsound Methods)

The first three albums, 1+2 (1986), Hydrology (1988) and Bloodline (1992) are currently being remastered for release at a later date.

http://www.recoil.co.uk/

The Shunt Staff

Both box sets contain limited edition versions of rare tracks, alternate mixes, 7″ vinyl versions, live songs and more. The ‘Construction Time Again’ box includes three limited singles which each feature four bonus live performances recorded at London’s Hammersmith Odeon on October 25, 1982. The ‘Some Great Reward’ box includes select live recordings from the Liverpool Empire Theatre, recorded September 29, 1984.
These sets are packaged in deluxe numbered boxes with reproductions of rare original UK marketing posters and download cards.

For full details and to order, go to: https://www.depechemodeboxsets.com

The Shunt Staff

LOT 50TP

Guide price: £8,000 – £12,000
11th December 2018, 12:00 GMT
Bonhams, New Bond Street, London

Full details of the entire auction and how to bid can be found here:
https://www.bonhams.com/auctions/24669/lot/50/

This Roland JP-8 is a keyboard originally owned by DM & Alan Wilder then given away many years ago. By complete chance having been sold on in 2014, it has become available again. We can 100% confirm that it is the very same keyboard that was used both live and in the studio with Depeche Mode between 1982-1984. Not only does it hold a unique history but these particular keyboards are now very scarce and highly sought after. This iconic synth has been fully restored under care of “Synthdoctor” Andy Jury and is in complete working condition.
Please note that this item is not being sold by Alan but has, nevertheless, been endorsed with his Letter of Authentication.

Say Alan: “This is indeed the very same JP-8 that I used for a number of years with Depeche Mode – its serial number, history and even the markings can be verified and I believe it still actually contains some the original sounds which I best demonstrated in the ‘Synths Revolution’ YouTube clip below.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hDgvvuRXtzc

The JP-8 will ideally end up in the hands of a true DM collector and will no doubt prove a valuable investment for the lucky recipient.

Of course, if synths are not actually your thing, you could always bid on LOT 48 in order to dress up in George Michael’s policeman costume from the video to ‘Outside’!

Good luck!

The Shunt Staff

Indiegogo Campaign | Facebook | Instagram | Twitter

Alan Wilder

As well as a CD (in a deluxe DVD-sized digipak) there is a dedicated website to contextualise the music and shed some historical perspective on its subject. Embedded there is also a series of 3D animations. The site is well worth a gander.

Go to : http://www.dataregina.com (best viewed on computer or tablet). Follow links to pre-order the album and get an immediate download of the track ‘Deploy’.

Full details :

‘Data Regina’
Release date : February 8, 2017
Composed, produced & mixed by Olivia Louvel @ Tin Foil studio & Audiobeach Studio
Lyrics written by Olivia Louvel except the sonnet ‘Feb. 8 1587’ written by Mary Queen Of Scots
Fiona Brice : violin on ‘My Crown’, ‘Elizabeth Song’, ‘The Veil’, ‘Love Or Rule’
Paul Kendall : mix consulting & additional voice polishing
Mastered by AGF
Artwork & design : Jesse Holborn
Original images : Antoine Kendall

Arts Council of England, Grant for the Arts, 2016

He met Dede (full name Dédé Davi) when his old mucker from DM days, Daryl Bamonte, got in touch :

“Dédé sent over her demo of ‘Calling The Clock’ after Daryl asked if I would oversee a studio recording and arrange & perform the piano part for the final version. I was happy to oblige. The simplicity and directness of Dédé’s words along with a strong melody left plenty of room to come up with the arrangement – hopefully one which compliments those things without becoming overbearing, allowing the strength of the song itself to shine through.

With limited hours in the studio, an immediate focus was required to get the right piano & vocal performances. For me, a little old-school having got so used to utilising all kinds of digital tools and electronic equipment with my own recorded music. The whole experience was refreshing & rewarding and I wish Dédé all the luck in the world with her career.”

Says Dédé :

“When I sent my demo off to my manager, I was surprised to get a positive reaction. He suggested that Alan could arrange it and record it with me. Again I was shocked that Alan even agreed. We had almost no time to rehearse – I think we went through it two or three times and that was it. It became clear that we are both perfectionists so we fitted perfectly and definitely didn’t give each other an easy time. I’m a big fan of simple music and there wasn’t anywhere to hide in this song, with either the piano or the vocals.

Alan brought a magic to this song that I couldn’t have even imagined – he transformed it into something delicate yet powerful. To work alongside his attention to detail and his skill was something I never thought I’d ever get the chance to do. I’m grateful beyond words and I hope everyone will enjoy listening to this song as much as we enjoyed making it.”

Dede hails from Croydon, London, and took a degree in politics at the University of Manchester. She began writing and collaborating with local musicians and her first recorded song, ‘Give In To You’, found its way onto the playlists of BBC Radio Merseyside & BBC Radio 1Xtra. After graduating, she moved back to London to attend The Academy of Contemporary Music where she honed her songwriting skills and was picked by Paul Hardcastle to perform on the 30 year anniversary remake of ’19’. She was also selected as one of MTV’ s ‘Top 20 Ones to Watch’. Dede was subsequently signed to Schubert Music Publishing and is now working on her debut album, collaborating with artists such as Steve Hewitt (Placebo) and Polly Scattergood.

Full details :

‘Calling The Clock’ – Dede featuring Alan Wilder
Written by Dede
Performed and arranged by Dede & Alan Wilder
Recorded by Tom Archer
Mixed by Sam Harper
Studio sessions co-ordinated by Siobhan Paine

Published by Schubert Music Publishing Ltd
P&C Smile Records

Video Editing & Post Production by Eni Brandner for www.enimation.at
Filmed by Thomas Taw and Bud Thompson for www.citizensnips.com

http://www.thisisdede.com
https://www.facebook.com/thisisdede/
https://twitter.com/dedeuk

http://www.schubertmusic.com
Management : http://www.bamonte.com

‘Video Singles Collection’ is the first in a series of band-approved retrospective projects examining Depeche Mode’s entire career and effect on pop culture. The set includes 55 newly-restored versions of the essential videos in addition to four rare alternate edits and new commentary on specific individual clips, recorded by members of Depeche Mode.

For a full track list and more, go to : http://www.depechemode.com

In recent years, a revolution in processing technology has instigated a change in the way albums are mastered. In order to compete, A&R men, producers, even the artists are demanding that mastering engineers, via digital compression, crank up the level so high that all dynamic range is callously sacrificed.

(Compression essentially increases the volume of the quieter elements within a mix while holding steady the peaks of the louder parts)

The effect of excessive compression is to obscure sonic detail and rob music of its emotional power leaving listeners strangely unmoved. In fact, the ear naturally compresses high volume blasts to protect itself – this is why we associate compression with level. Our sophisticated human brains have evolved to pay particular attention to any loud noise, so initially, compressed sounds seem more exciting. It is short lived. After a few minutes, research shows, constant volume grows tiresome and fatiguing.

True excitement comes from variation in rhythm, tone, pitch and a wide range of dynamics which in turn provides space and warmth – something you’re unlikely to find in much of today’s rock/pop music. If you want a good example, listen to The Arctic Monkeys ‘I Bet You Look Good on the Dance Floor’ for a bombardment of the most unsubtle, one-dimensional noise.

The download spiral…

At the moment, MP3 compression allows a smaller file to be created by excluding the musical information that the human ear is less likely to notice. Much of the information left out is at the very high and low end (MP3s don’t reproduce reverb well for similar transience reasons). So when the already squashed CD master is then consumed via MP3, the flattening effect is enhanced further. The result – an unsatisfying, brittle, indistinct, hollow experience with no punch.

Just as the CD replaced vinyl, we all know that MP3 and other digital formats are quickly replacing CDs as the most popular way to listen to music. This means more convenience but inferior sound (although that may improve over time). Even the audiophiles have moved on to multi-media – the iPod or iPhone being the ‘must have’ item of choice. Many have lost interest in high-end stereo systems while younger listeners have grown so used to dynamically compressed music that the battle has already been lost.

But this is not the whole story. We are seeing the ramifications of this subtle but significant listening shift for the record industry. You see, it’s not just about audio quality. It is about craft, toil. It’s about art…

Art for art’s sake

I am slightly out of the ordinary in that I am not a hugely ‘successful’ artist in terms of commercial sales and in that sense, I struggle to be heard just like millions of other musicians. However, because of my background in Depeche Mode, I am secure, which has meant (and continues to mean) that I don’t have to tailor what I do to conform in any way. The market shift hasn’t really affected me that much. It certainly doesn’t change how I approach making music. It does reinforce my cynicism towards the injustice of so much good music lost in the mêlée of dross. But that is nothing new. The nature of mainstream radio hasn’t improved in any way; magazines have minimal impact, television exposure is more limited than ever – notwithstanding MTV channels which have become more and more marginalised. In fact the best way to get your music heard is through a TV advertisement.

Leaving viability aside for a moment, I would like to see a return to high quality art, embracing all the wonders of technology and science, delivered at a price that reflects the time and effort the artist has put in. Call me old fashioned. Just as one would expect to pay for a hand-crafted piece of furniture or a designer dress or a beautifully printed photograph. Rather than pandering to mass media, why not also produce higher resolution audio – maybe on DVD since that’s a format most people can engage with without having to buy new equipment? Combine this with lovingly produced artwork which, if a printed option is too expensive, can at least be downloaded.

Collectors items are becoming a way to escape the turmoil. It makes a lot of sense to subsidise the production of an expensive format for those who really appreciate quality and collectibility by allowing a wider audience to cough up a minimal amount for the fundamental elements.

Some have tried. For instance, Magne Furuholmen (A-ha) released and sold 300 copies of a special 10″ vinyl picture disc with hand-painted original sleeves, accompanied by a CD containing all the songs, a poster and a documentary charting the creation of the artwork. The package sold at 100 Euros a piece. Afterwards, all songs were made available on-line for free via MySpace. Hats off to a bold approach which effectively encouraged each serious fan to also become a kind of personal investor.

The successful implementation of a DVD/art/film package such as this by a major company largely remains to be seen. No reason for it not to work as long as the label takes a pragmatic view about downloads – that they can only really act as a promotional tool rather than generating a sustainable source of income.

But really, coming up with a format is the least of the challenges – the difficulty as always is how to sell it.

Certainly trying to get any sort of coverage in the record stores ceased to be a viable option some time ago. The chains themselves are on their last legs (note the recent demise of the excellent ‘Fopp’ stores) or they are mutating into something different – focusing on games, merchandise, iPod accessories and so on. To ensure their own survival, with their ‘no returns’ policy, the record stores exert heavy pressure on the record companies by only agreeing to stock ‘dead certs’ – just the best selling artists, in order to avoid being left with excess stock.

As for marketing and promotion, I want the first listening experience of one of my records to be exactly as I intend it to be heard. For that reason, no longer will I be offering up advance copies for charlatans posing as journalists to sell on E-bay or upload to The Pirate Bay 3 months ahead of release. Considering the amount of advance promotion I get these days, it won’t make a blind bit of difference to the sales performance.

Not that there aren’t any positive sides to fan-shared files. Clearly, people in remote parts of the world – Siberia for example – can potentially be exposed to my music this way, albeit not, as yet, at optimum quality. It’s not ideal but better than no opportunity to hear it at all. Even with CDs, in Russia, they are impossible to buy outside of the major cities which is why we get sharp, entrepreneurial fan sites buying up all the city’s stock and selling it on to others outside for a small profit margin.

From Russia with love

Recoil recently released an enhanced CD including a film and a special booklet. Let’s take a look at the process. The ‘Prey’/’Allelujah’ package was brought about through fan pressure; by those that want a physical product – completists maybe, but also music lovers who prefer the audio and tactile quality of a CD over downloadable ‘faceless’ products. The tracks had already been available as downloads but it wasn’t satisfying for many. The generation gap is showing.

Following a successful promo appearance in Moscow, a local DM/Recoil webmaster managed to persuade Gala Records (EMI’s local label – Mute’s partner) that it would be worthwhile to release this disc. They agreed – not without conditions mind you. So what was agreed?

Firstly, the promo trip was instigated by an Electro club manager. The club paid for and largely organised the visit. On the back of that, Gala arranged some radio, press and TV. The results were more than encouraging but despite this, the conditions of a release meant that: the fans had to pay for the manufacture of the disc, the fans had to implement pay structures and distribute the disc via their own website, other Recoil fans produced the artwork for a 28 page booklet that accompanied the disc, another fan produced and directed the 9 minute film that was included for ‘Allelujah’, the artist (me) produced the music in his own studio, the artist funds its own website along with a dedicated webmaster that works for free, the artist and the fans took care of the on-line marketing, promotion and sales support. All these services were provided as labours of love – no cost except for time and effort through sheer will to make it happen. Astounding. And it warms the cockles of my heart.

So what did the record company do, you ask? A good question. The record company organised the parts into a manufacturable product – this means making a production master from existing music mixes and cobbling together a two-page inlay with label copy from existing artwork. The local licensee added cyrillic legal jargon to the inlay and alerted some press and TV. Not much really is it?

Ok, this is not the norm and as such, slightly unfair. It was a kind of one-off experiment. Gala/Mute might argue – a favour. But it is most definitely the way things are going. Why won’t they release the CD in the usual way? Because they don’t believe the demand justifies the effort and manufacturing costs when the trend is for cheap or free downloadable music.

The Russian project was an interesting experiment but it could only expect limited success given the current view of that country and the customer mistrust that seemed to permeate the whole enterprise. It wasn’t an ideal way to try to sell a product but that doesn’t preclude the process itself becoming perfectly workable – as long as solid logistics are in place, making it simple and reliable for the customer.

(Note: despite the obvious hurdles, in fact we still managed to sell all the planned stock prior to release, such was the demand)

Pop will eat itself?

So why bother with a record deal at all? And that is what many artists are now asking themselves. Why wouldn’t they when they are being told that their company just can’t afford to spend any money? Or that the company wants a cut of the artist’s live income to pay for marketing. This is why we see the mass exodus taking place, squeezing the already crippled record industry. The artists that find it easiest to walk away are those that are already highly successful, compounding the problem still further. Why? Because the likes of Radiohead and Prince can afford to give their music away as a cheap promotional gimmick in order to create publicity for their respective machines. They get noticed for doing so and benefit in other areas. So with everyone now expecting free music, all the other artists lose what little income they could expect from record sales, even though the love and money spent producing their product hasn’t changed.

I’ve long since given up expecting to make a profit from what I do. And you might expect that I would be full of resentment and bitterness toward my own record company but that’s not really it. Mute are victims in all this. The reality is that all the companies are suffering and are desperately clinging on by their fingernails trying to come up with solutions as the rug is pulled from beneath them.
In Mute’s case, EMI have inflicted so many spending restrictions and are ‘re-shaping’ and ‘streamlining’ with department ‘centralisation’ and the reduction of the artist roster. EMI big cheese Guy Hands describes his business as ‘an unsustainable model’ with a need to ‘reduce waste’…. Garbage collection. Thinly veiled rhetoric meaning CUTBACKS! He talks of ‘eliminating duplication and bureaucracy’. Bottom line: 2000 jobs have to go.

More worryingly, he also offers us the information that currently about 3% of the entire roster is profitable and that those that never will be profitable, no matter how the model is changed, can kiss their arses goodbye. That is about as far away as you could ever get from what I understood as the Mute philosophy, where the profit from major selling acts is used to nurture all the other artists on the label. Art. A record company does not sell baked beans, it exposes art to the masses. An unquantifiable thing. Baked Beans – a quantifiable thing.

But is that philosophy realistic in these times? Clearly not if you’re ruled by a private equity conglomerate. The Mute home (now part of the EMI building) is a shadow of its former self. A few lost souls wandering around in a post-apocalyptic daze, like a scene from ‘28 Days Later’. There are some good people at the label who have their hands tied. And their feet bound. And some gaffer taped firmly across their mouths, helplessly kidnapped having been lured into the corporate machine.

Of course Mute can’t just up and leave. It would be like trying to put your house up for sale when you’re only renting it. I imagine Daniel Miller is as concerned as the next tenant. He is contracted to EMI as Mute’s label boss and his own future I imagine is unclear. Maybe he is tired of the whole business, his original vision impaired beyond repair. I’m sure he is just as passionate about music as he ever was, but who would want to start a new record company in the current climate?

And can the musician act as entrepreneur? Is it fair to expect our scatterbrained creative songwriters and virtuosos to also hold a degree in business management? Formulating their own strategies and marketing models as they go? I mean wasn’t this the whole reason record companies and managers came into existence in the first place? From my own experience, simply trying to ‘stage manage’ what has been a very small-level experiment has taken up most of the first 3 months of the year – valuable time which I intended to spend composing new music.

Business acumen will vary but it is essential for artists and their representatives to try and stay ahead of the game, to think up new endeavors. One could see the return of small art-focused indie labels employing a new modus operandi (it’s already happening if you look around) with minimal overheads, operating more as logistical support to the artists, organising the manufacture and effective mail order distribution via the artists websites and other associated outlets. Taking the strain. (This doesn’t mean one has to abandon the idea of mass availability via iTunes or similar)

By the time I finish another album, who knows if I’ll have a record deal at all? It would be a shame to end my association with Mute after such so many good years but I’ve got a feeling the decision could be out of my hands. Much depends on the future of Mute/EMI and indeed all the companies. It could be that the major selling artists on Mute just get sucked into the EMI machine and all the others fall by the wayside, including the Mute label itself. It will be a sad day indeed.

So who shall we blame for the whole mess? Do we stick two fingers up at the record companies who have sat around twiddling their thumbs, peddling overpriced re-issues for years while their A&R men bombard us with shallow, faceless pop idol, X factor boy bands? Is it fair to say “… well, you had it coming”…? Or do we accuse the casual ‘non-listener’ with the attention span of a three year old living in a disposable, homogenized, Paris Hilton-obsessed society, over stimulated with too much life choice? A society that places value in triviality and accepts mediocrity without much question? Or perhaps the devaluation has evolved from the cult of the DJ, where anyone can regurgitate the very essence of rock ‘n’ roll by lifting an entire 70’s funk classic, adding some rap drivel over the top and calling it their own work? Is modern music regarded as an art form at all anymore? Or is it just another business now?

Alan Wilder

(Thanks to Bernard Van Isacker for his input)

I’d literally forgotten how to work most of the equipment! Mainly operating the software, like ‘Logic Audio’. My computer was also well out of date as was most of the software installed on it.

In terms of hardware, he chose to install an Apple G5 Dual 2.7 Ghz with 2 x 250Gb Serial ATA hard drives, 2 new 22″ LCD displays and Digidesign’s Pro Tools HD3 accel. With this, he ran the latest in digital audio software: Apple’s Logic Pro 7.1 music creation and audio production package, Pro Tools 6.9, Ableton Live 5.0 and, amongst others, Waves Platinum TDM processing plug-In bundle.

“I spent the first 3 months just coming to terms with all the new gear, fiddling about with the software and getting to know Ableton Live which I ended up running as a slave, used mainly for time-stretching passages of performance and for its effects. It’s a little soul destroying and frustrating just bringing yourself up to speed when all you really want to do is get stuck in.”

During the winter months of 2006, despite the learning curve, Alan managed to compile some new material and by the Spring began to look towards finding some kind of vocal contributions.

It was by google-ing ‘Blues singer/songwriter’ that he came across Joe Richardson, a Delta bluesman and guitarist based in Austin, Texas. Joe’s immediate appeal came from his distinctive vocal tone and stripped-back style but upon closer inspection, the dark mood and accompanying subject matter seemed tailor-made for Recoil. Alan e-mail’d Joe directly and received an enthusiastic – if somewhat surprised – response.

Says Alan “That’s when the internet really comes into its own. There is no way I could have known about Joe without the help of a search engine. I listened to hundreds of singers this way but it was Joe’s voice that leapt out of the speakers. He sounded exactly like the person I’d been hearing in my mind when I started working on the music. The thing was, I almost didn’t send the mail! When I saw his pictures on his web site, I thought he probably wouldn’t be interested in what I was doing and might be sort of grumpy or stuck in his ways. How wrong I was and how glad I am now that I did press the ‘send’ button.”

Says Joe “I was sitting at the computer one day when an e-mail popped up. It was from Alan Wilder – very brief, stating that he liked my song writing and singing and wondered if I would be interested in a collaboration. I had heard of his name but couldn’t remember from where. When I heard the music I thought “Wow”! I’ve been accused of leaning too much toward the darker side of things so I thought it might be a cool collaboration.”

Within weeks, Joe had listened to previous Recoil LPs and also Alan’s current work in progress – five potential tracks that he felt would suit Joe’s voice.

“Alan had some rough ideas without lyrics and I just wrote words and melodies that suited the mood he had already created. He didn’t pull the reigns in on me in any way so I was completely free to do whatever I felt. This made things really easy creatively.”

It was in May 2006 that Alan, Paul Kendall (engineer and sound designer) and Hepzibah Sessa (the missus and PA) travelled to Austin to work with Joe at Texas Treefort Studios, owned by Jack and Susie Rock.

Hep: “I remember the journey being quite eventful. I think we travelled with Delta or some other American airline and I can distinctly recall our collective alarm when we encountered the cabin crew. They were very definitely left-overs from the ‘70s when it was de rigour for air hostesses to sport big hair with Max Factor’s entire range of ‘exciting colours and shades’ trowel’d onto their faces. Head trolley-dolly looked like the lead singer of Twisted Sister and her ageing counterparts were most-likely members of a Tubes tribute band when not serving drinks and terrorising passengers on trans-atlantic flights.

Being required to reclaim all our luggage and re-check in at Dallas resulted in missing our on-going flight to Austin, so we killed an hour in the bar watching the paranoid comings-and-goings of a post-9/11 airport. The entire complex was swarming with troops home on leave, roaming around the airport in what looked like Khaki baby-gros. Every centimetre of available space was bedecked with flags and signs declaring victory against nasty transgressors like the French (‘Freedom Fries’ on sale here!!!).

Unfortunately for them, and us, stringent security measures (which required everyone to strip virtually naked) ensured lengthy queues as Uncle Sam’s brave boys tried to undo their 18-hole desert boots. This should have made for a great slapstick comedy routine (gruff sergeants getting tangled up in their laces, gnarled lieutenants falling over in their underpants etc.) but most of it was conducted in unnerving silence due to the predominance of huge signs declaring “No laughing/smiling/joking or we will shoot you” – or words to that effect. As you can imagine, this entire scenario is very difficult for us English because of the combined embarrassment of disrobing in front of complete strangers and the quite blatant promise of an undignified exit from the world. “I know I’m going to get hassled…” grumbled PK “they always single me out”. And sure enough, he was ordered to pass through a strange ‘blowing’ machine, like a huge hairdryer. We never did find out why.

Eventually we made it to Austin where Joe met us, and relief came when we discovered that he wasn’t a racist redneck, nor a born-again crimbo (let’s face it – we knew nothing about him at the time). In fact he was perfectly charming and very funny. After a brief journey into the hills outside the city, we realised the session was going to be a success when we were met by studio owner Jack brandishing perfect Moscow Mules as welcoming gifts.”

Assisted by engineer Jim Vollentine, over a week, the musicians laid down vocals and backing tracks for five of Alan’s tracks and three of Joe’s (that Alan intended to re-work back in England), together with various guitar and harmonica parts. Alan was keen to record drummer Richard Lamm and bassist John Wolfe (who perform with Joe as The Joe Richardson Express) to give the tracks an element of performance as well as providing additional material for loops and samples.

Alan: “Like any session where one is working with others for the first time, there is bound to be a degree of ‘feeling each other out’, you know – understanding the humour, developing the studio banter and so on. I decided to ease into it by getting the whole band in and recording drums and bass first. By the end of the week, we were quite comfortable and in fact, recorded most of Joe’s vocals on the last day. The sum of what we achieved during the week outweighed what I’d expected and I actually came away with quite a lot of bonus material. Everything was recorded to multitrack (for that special tape sound) and then transferred into ProTools. I managed to take the entire session home on a palm-sized hard drive!”

Joe: “It all went so easy and so quickly and Alan made the whole thing a real pleasure so the entire process couldn’t have been more fun or easy. He’s a creatively gifted person and just an all around nice guy!”

An impressive collection of vintage valve equipment was on hand to deliver that little extra to the session.

Alan: “There was an obscene amount of equipment at Jack’s place – too much to fully explore given the limited time we had. PK’s jaw dropped like a small child let loose in the sweety shop.”

PK: “I can honestly say that I have never, ever entered a studio with so much high-quality vintage equipment. It was as though I’d died and awoken in valve heaven. More Ureis than hot dinners, Pye, Fairchild, Telefunken, Neve and on and on. Then there were the guitar amps; a collection of more than 10 classic sounding monsters from an original Gibson combo, to a couple of Magnatones which I’d never seen, let alone heard, and when I did they produced the sweetest overdrive tremolo imaginable. I feel honoured to have been given the chance to see this place.”

Says Hep “The session was a delight all round – save for the enormous welts that we all picked up from the oversized Texan mosquitos who must have adored our pure English blood. I know the locals thought we were mad when we insisted on sitting outside in the warm evenings but this is a pleasure that we Limeys get to enjoy for about 3 days of the year back home, so one must jump at the opportunity regardless of the consequences. But I wish Jack hadn’t been so nonchalant about the Brown Recluse spiders that were resident under the house. There were also phenomenal electric storms throughout our entire visit – quite frightening when you consider that a rumble of thunder and a dustbin blowing over in the UK constitutes a ‘storm’. Jack and Susie were consummate hosts and real ‘foodies’. They allowed us access to their excellent wine cellar and I spent much time quaffing Sancerre and putting the world to rights with Jack.”

The team also managed a night off to see The Joe Richardson Express play a gig on Austin’s famous 6th Street.

Hep “Seeing Joe perform was a real privilege. He has a lot of support in Austin and people seemed genuinely interested and excited at the prospect of a collaboration with Alan.”

Once back in England, work was interrupted by a summer of serious sporting events and an extended period of very hot weather. The lure of a sun lounger, cool pool and long drink in front of cricket, Wimbledon and of course the World Cup meant that the studio was not the place to be. Consequently, it wasn’t until late August / early September that we saw the return of Paul Kendall once more.

With Joe having provided vocals for five or six possible tracks, Alan still had two that demanded a female voice. After extensive research, he came across Carla Trevaskis via an associate at Mute Records. Born in Portsmouth, Carla has been involved in music since the age of 14 and performed live on a regular basis in the capital. Together with an expressive range and control, Carla brought an enthusiastic approach to her recording session and spent three days in October at The Thin Line contributing lead vocals for two main tracks and additional backing vocals throughout the album.

Alan: “I felt strongly that the album needed the balance of a complete opposite voice to Joe’s. I had a couple of tracks that I’d always imagined would suit a woman.”

Carla: “I was aware of Alan’s work in Depeche Mode but not Recoil. The first thing that struck me was the amazing production and the attention to detail, which was faultless. Secondly, the string arrangements were so beautiful and epic and I love the way that Alan sets up a mood for you and takes you on an emotional journey. He is great to work with as he knows exactly what he wants but he isn’t opposed to experimentation so the recording went really smoothly.”

Alan and Paul then threw themselves into serious mixing until the Xmas break, followed by an intensive month of tweaking during January 2007. The mastering was undertaken during February and March by Simon Heyworth. Alan and PK made a special trip to Simon’s studio in Devon to further delve into the dark art of transferring their studio sound onto CD.

“We spent a lot more time on this part of the process than I’d anticipated – and it was a real eye-opener (should I say ear-opener). Many people will be familiar with the current volume war that exists. In other words, how much apparent level can you get onto a CD. I didn’t want to get too involved in all that since this involves incredible amounts of digital limiting or compression. The cut we ended up with isn’t particularly ‘loud’ but does, hopefully, retain all the dynamics – something which seems to be sorely lacking in today’s music culture.”

During the early part of February, the album was also mixed for 5.1 Surround Sound by Alan and Paul at The Thin Line and finally mastered, again by Simon (who was responsible for the recent Depeche Mode 5.1 mastering). Mixing in 5.1 is particularly advantageous where Recoil is concerned – the result being an all-encompassing environment that seems to envelope the listener and allows them to fully appreciate the myriad of sounds and effects that make up each track.

Around this time Alan began to think about a title for the album.

“l’ve said before that completing an album is a conceptual puzzle, trying to make sense of what others bring. Some rationale normally evolves by choosing the right people and leaving them to their own lyrical devices. I don’t like to impose boundaries although, once their souls have been captured on hard disc, I reserve the right to re-structure their performances. That way I can entwine their words within the Recoil landscape and hopefully create the overall continuity. Towards the end of a project, some sort of concept naturally arises, albeit a loose one, which gives us a way forward for a title and to produce the artwork.

In this case, the lyrics from Joe seemed to deal with the fallout from religious doctrine and also incarceration, both physical and mental. Together with Carla’s ‘prayer’ and her words to ‘Intruders’, it set me thinking about how we seem to have learnt nothing from past experiences and our so called ‘civilised’ world is still awash with personal and global atrocities. From suicide bombers in the Middle East, to ethnic cleansing in the Balkans; from the homophobic rhetoric of the Christian fundamentalist preacher, to the activities of Western governments engaged in their ‘war on terror’. We are all ‘subhuman’ in somebody’s eyes”

Artwork was commissioned to Jesse Holhorn whose grasp of Alan’s simple brief for ‘subHuman’ resulted in truly arresting images. Jesse pitched his ideas as: “a modern visualisation emphasising the disregarded lifeform that is known as ‘subHuman’. Represented by mannequins, they emerge as faceless, autonomons with no opinions – moral degenerates to the powers that be, created by world tragedy. The photography captures the mannequins in real life situations, going about everyday life as recyclable worthless beings.”

Post 9-11 security contributed to my normal dread of airport transit, borne out of a hard disc which was once refused entry into my hand luggage as I didn’t have its power supply. It had to be hastily packed, unpadded, into unsecured cardboard box and placed into the aircraft’s hold. “But…” I pleaded “…it contains all my work from the last 2 months.” That time, hard disc arrived intact, and on this occasion my dread appeared unfounded as I have a British passport and we are brothers in arms for the ‘war on terror’, no?

Texas was hot, very hot – and it was May. We met Joe Richardson and his then manager, Frosty (not a difficult name to remember). Joe had the accent my dad would have killed for; that southern states deep resonant drawl and the character of a diamond, if I can mix cultural references. Alan’s decision to work with someone totally unknown to us was a risk but, if first appearances were to be believed, the signs were positive. Certainly if this guy sang like he talked, we would get some rich voices for the album. And if he could play guitar like his hair implied, then the blues would be well represented. Obviously the similarity between Joe’s and my own hair were purely accidental – he had a few years of length over my baby grey mane.

The journey to the studio would be my only view of the geography of Texas – which is just the way it always works out, but then I feel secure in the studio, isolating myself, travelling as I do like a lily-livered Brit. Everything looked slightly desert with the heat dry and on arrival at the studio, the lizards could be seen scampering.

Jack’s delicious Moscow Mules were matched by the quality of his environment. Each piece of kit in the studio had character drawn through years of high quality functioning and the few ubiquitous modern processors were put in the shade when they would be revered elsewhere.

Joe the guitarist had recorded here before and recommended we use this space. It was obvious why. One would naturally imagine that it would be one of the top commercial studios in the world but Jack keeps its secrets well hidden. A hobby for him, he is justifiably proud of such a studio which doubles as his home, hence his desire to keep it low key. I feel honoured to have been given the chance to see this place and I haven’t even mentioned the pre-amps, the microphones, the tape machines. I risk staining, so I’ll stop.

Ok, so you understand we had suitable equipment to achieve the desired result but, to this point, we hadn’t heard Joe, John and Richard playing, which was the reason to go to Texas in the first place. Downtown Austin bar was arranged for the evening to hear The Joe Richardson Express perform in public. Frosty drove us in his outrageous gas guzzler. I have some recollection that the colour was possibly loud but can be reasonably sure that it was a Lincoln Continental. Casting back to my ‘I Spy Book of Cars’ from 1960, the Lincoln was the longest automobile of its generation and arriving downtown was nothing short of impressive.

This was my first experience of being obliged to smoke outside a bar and the moment was with added adventure as I was probably the only dude to roll a cigarette (not a jazz woodbine) this side of the Rio Grande. I made sure the act was virtually invisible as trying to explain ‘Golden Virginia’ to a Texan cop was not my idea of fun. Few beers and Joe played and played, strangling his guitar and his vocal chords in some delightful contortions. All South and rocking. I think we knew the recording would be a success; the bass was solid and the drums were as large as Richard’s smile.

Back in the studio the following day, I was faced with too many decisions and insisted that Jim, an accomplished engineer, run the recording side of the session. He knew the studio inside out and had worked with Joe before. We didn’t have a lot of time for experimentation and faced with all the possibilities, I’d still be there now working on the drum sound. At the end of the 4 days we had everything plus a little more for Alan to bring back to his place and edit, construct, reconstruct.

Throughout the eventual mixing of the album back in England, I realised that for the first time in my life in studio world, I applied virtually zero eq. on the guitar takes, such was the purity and beauty of performance, guitar, amp, microphone and tape in the chain-gang of Joe Richardson. All the distortions were pure, no digital sizzles. And the harmonica was growling and authentic. The art of recording has been rendered almost invisible by the computer’s predominance but, in Austin it was akin to a Damascene analogue conversion.

Did I mention the finest Tex-Mex meal I’ve ever tasted?