CLAIR talks music-making, microdosing and the magic of Glasgow to mark the release of her Body Blossom – Revelations EP
Turn off your mind, relax and float downstream. It’s text that John Lennon reappropriated from The Psychedelic Experience: A Manual Based on The Tibetan Book of the Dead for “Tomorrow Never Knows” in 1966, but it equally feels at home in the present when describing the experience of listening to Glasgow pastoral avant-garde artist CLAIR. Arriving fully formed on the scene last year with the Earth Mothers album, her outsider sounds incorporated lucid dreaming, meditation, psychedelics, nature and magick. It was a real trip. This summer’s follow-up single “Body Blossom” further developed her sonic tapestry, “upping the emotional stakes while keeping the occult edges” (at least according to my review). It’s now getting a second life as Body Blossom – Revelations, a vinyl and digital EP that includes an extended version alongside remixes by Polypores, Euan Dalgarno and Paul Cousins.
To celebrate the release, I tapped into hidden cosmic channels and made contact with CLAIR to talk about musical experiments, dream states and the magic of Glasgow.
How would you describe your sound?
A dream within a dream.
What do you imagine are the best conditions for listeners to immerse themselves in your music?
Some people have told me they’ve enjoyed listening to it whilst in nature because it’s like two similar realities fusing, but I guess anywhere as long as you have big headphones / a proper soundsystem. I’d also suggest it’s personal listening rather than group.
Sound designer Dean Hurley has said of working with David Lynch in the studio: “every single time we start to do something, he literally starts it by saying, ‘I want to try an experiment.’” (Beyond the Beyond: Music from the Films of David Lynch, edited by J.C. Gabel and Jessica Hundley) I wonder what your approach to music-making is and how much of it is experimentation? Do you have any particular music-making rituals?
It’s all an experiment to me, I’m still really new to making music. I don’t have any set structure or template, I’m always just toying with random objects, rubbing objects against each other, listening for textures and sounds within sounds when playing around with percussion. I recorded myself scratching my head once when I didn’t know where to start for the track “Robin Redbreast” on Earth Mothers.
I’m out in nature most days, so often just recording little videos/sounds. I love it when friends send me field recordings. I often record myself singing little melodies – I’ll maybe hear a piece of music on the radio or in a film and I’ll sing a melody over the top of it. I’ll sometimes return to these melodies and listen to them to help me get started. Usually I spend time in the park, singing to and feeding the birds. Then I go do a little magick, then mess about with my keyboard for a melody, trawl through my vocal recordings and field recordings. Then I start to visualise the film that’s the music in my head.
It’s inspiring that you started making your own music relatively late. How did you go about getting started and did you have a vision in mind for what your music would sound like?
I didn’t really have a vision at all. I’d liked the idea of field recordings for a long time, and (I’ve probably mentioned this elsewhere) I did have a sort of vision during a Transcendental Meditation session a few years ago, where every sound I could hear in and around the building came together to make a piece of music. When I did finally get around to starting it, it was like a sudden urge, a response to a traumatic situation. I basically ran around some charity shops one day, found an old set of chimes that were in a window of Oxfam on Byres Road. I bought a mic and downloaded a copy of Trial Ableton and looked up a tutorial on YouTube. If you’ve ever used visual editing packages such as Photoshop or Sony Vegas then it’s not that different to use something like Ableton or Reaper. I then recorded myself messing around with the chimes. I’d been experimenting a little bit with magick over a few years – I created a ritual with the chimes playing. I could hear a little rhythm in my breathing when playing them, I expanded on that, then messed around recording a music box and some other random bits and pieces around my flat. The outcome was kinda chaotic and weird but interesting. That was around March 2019.
I didn’t work on anything else until a year later once the pandemic started. I was spending a lot of time in the park, recording sounds. I’d found some instruments (a wee drum, shakers, a Buddhist bell, a kalimba, a couple of horns) I’d picked up on travels with previous partners, that I’d stored away as keepsakes really. I bought a keyboard from a tiny old music shop around the corner you’d hardly notice was there – that place feels like a TARDIS.
It was all about experimenting.
You’ve mentioned being able to make music on a budget. Could you talk a little more about this and perhaps discuss the mix of software and instrumentation you employ?
My trial of Ableton had ran out by the time I properly started on Earth Mothers, so I asked mates on Twitter about alternatives. The super geeks were suggesting Reaper, so of course had to try and it’s been great. You can trial it for free as long as you like, then pay once you have some money.
Like I mentioned above, I used a cheap Yamaha 255 . I have a dusty old half-broken Lenovo PC, it works fine when it’s not crashing – could do with a new one to be fair. As mentioned, I found quite a few percussion pieces I found on travels, but you can find loads of pieces online or in charity shops for really cheap. I got my nephew a wee kalimba and a steel drum online for really cheap for instance. I just use my phone for field recordings. Stuart Maclean from The Dark Outside gifted me a Monotron, which is a great wee gadget you can pick up for around 30-40 quid.
Earth Mothers feels like a powerfully suis generis artistic statement. There’s nothing tentative about how you’ve created your own particular sound world – it seems to have arrived fully formed. Did the album shape up as you intended? Were there surprises along the way?
There was absolutely zero planning while making that LP, it just flowed out of me. I guess it was just a constant buzz and surprise I was coming up with this bizarre music that made me feel so happy. Just like making any music, how the fuck did this suddenly happen out of nowhere? Like I felt slightly possessed at points. Also, the realisation that I may have some sort of synaesthesia – I’m still not sure, like when I read books I see images in my head, like a film. I’ve always had that, but I think that’s maybe normal? I’m not sure, but I see like a dream in my head when making music. Not really sure what it is, but it’s fun.
The words “wake up, wake up” at the beginning of “Queen Bee”, the first track on the album, bring to mind the opening of Mulholland Drive or the entirety of Eyes Wide Shut – what is reality and what is dream? As the album continues, the mood matches the lopsided dreaming and earthy weirdness of Valerie and Her Week of Wonders. Earth Mothers certainly has a distinctly dream-like quality and I wonder whether the idea of dreaming is important to your work?
I had to look up the Valerie film, it appears to be enchanting. Reminds me a little of Nic Roeg’s Puffball. I know the other two of course.
The dream feeling isn’t something I initially planned intentionally. But the thing is with microdosing, it opens up a little channel to your subconscious, but you are awake, which is partly what dreaming is eh, a delve into your mind you can’t normally access when awake and bombarded by the sensory overload that is daily life. I guess I just channel some of my subconscious. It’s nice to share that – a lot of people want to share their dreams, right? They often sound silly or boring in words, but with music they can envelope the listener and draw them into the deepest hidden part of you, another world where you can fly.
Lucid dreaming is the best kind. Really I’d love to meet my muse in my dream, like a hang out, but within a dream. I once had a lucid dream that it was the end of the world. I was floating in a green field, the sun and the stars were out at the same time, everything was about to end, but I was OK with it. Maybe I try to convey that a little. With mushrooms you start to lose your fear of death. Maybe I’m sharing a little of that also.
I was completely won over by “Body Blossom”, your follow-up single. It builds on what you did in Earth Mothers, while also travelling new paths. Could you tell me about putting together this track and whether you felt like you were moving in new directions?
Thing is, there’s a piece of the story missing here, a track I made before “Body Blossom”, which I made for an overseas label. The direction started to change with that track, but I can’t talk too much about that though. Plus I try not to think about it, cause it’s too exciting.
So as I’ve said in another interview in The Skinny, Andy MacLellan and I go back to the Optimo days. He got in touch out the blue asking if he could make me a music video, which I was obviously up for. We got chatting and it turned out he had field recordings from the Yucatan. Took me a little while to get round to listening to them as I was pretty busy and there was a fair bit to trawl through, but as soon as I did I knew what I wanted to create: a sense of being a creature living there. I could visualise it in my head. The sounds of the birds and animals are like instruments in themselves, they’re so playful. So basically I had to run through the field recordings and pick out the best bits, then build a story around those. Then I played around with my keyboard to find a little melody to play the role of the plants / the earth. It’s the base layer that the structure is built on. You see the parallels?
I know a lot of people don’t like panning, but of course I had to use a fair bit of that with the field recordings to create a sense of movement. The ocarina sound seemed like the perfect whimsical sound to open the scene: the buzzing bee (which I looped) tapping at your ear as you open your eyes and begin to fly. The strings pull it together and create a sense of euphoria, you know like in a floating dream, and I guess my vocal is my interpretation of my own little dream animal’s voice (I know that sounds weird). Then of course there’s a few seconds of foreboding, that sense of danger when a predator appears, or worse still, man. It’s pretty simple really in terms of production, I’m sure.
Body Blossom – Revelations includes an extended version of the single, alongside remixes and is appearing on vinyl. Can you talk about putting this together and who you got to remix the track? How was it hearing other people’s interpretations of your work?
I initially had a lot of great feedback for “Body Blossom”, but quite a few people were saying they wanted a longer version. Snackmag run a podcast, they gave it a lovely critique on there, but again they were saying ‘more please’, so I decided to make a longer version, then thought it would be a fun idea to build a remix package to release on vinyl.
Extending it just meant trawling through Andy’s field recordings again. I found some of what I assume is a guide muttering in the jungle, together with some rain sounds that sound like fire I had recorded in Kelvingrove while filming a robin. I layered in those with some more tropical bird noises and my vocal. I wanted the listener to picture their own story in their head.
Re: remixes, Polypores (Stephen J Buckley) and I had become pretty good mates via the Twitter community I am part of. I love his colourful trippy modular work and I’d been playing it in my radio shows. We were chatting and he said he’d be up for working on it. He ended up making five to choose from! I couldn’t decide on just one, so picked two: “Streamtime Dreamtime” and “Slow Gnosis”.
Euan Dalgarno is another friend I made online recently who’s work I’d been playing out. I’d really fallen in love with his stunning string work. Again, we were just chatting and it came up in conversation about the remix. He was immediately down for it. Then a few weeks later I was chatting to Colin Morrison from Castles in Space and he mentioned Paul Cousins might be up for it – and he was! Paul creates this stunning tape loop work, really heavy sort of organised chaos.
You were a regular at Optimo’s weekly party and have cited them as an ongoing influence. What does Optimo mean to you and your music?
Going to Optimo was a wild combination of a massive music education, a time of meeting lots of creatives, new friends, some incredible musicians and a hedonistic lifestyle all rolled into one. It sparked a fire in me again for music, which had died a partial death for a few years.
I was lucky enough to have made friends with Keith and Jonnie through my pal Guy Veale. So not only was it about the incredible club nights, the kind of night you’d be subjected to an insane spectrum of sonics blended with a charged atmosphere like nothing else, it was also about going to gigs with them such as Throbbing Gristle in London and Glasgow, Karl Heinz Stockhausen, Lydia Lunch, Swans, KXP, Nurse with Wound, that ridiculous birthday party they hosted at SWG3 +++. It was a totally new chapter in my life, where I’ve no doubt subconsciously been learning and soaking it all up along the way. I think Keith was pretty blown away when I messaged him one day like, “I’ve made a friggin wild tune!”
What does Glasgow mean to your music?
As mentioned above, a musical education – although it dates back further than Optimo, back to my Slam days when I used to PR for those guys, going to various clubs and gigs, notably Sub Club, working with artists when I used to manage, as well as booking artists as an event organiser. I’ve worked in music in Glasgow for a long time. When you’re subjected to so much good music it must impress a lot into your subconscious.
Lately though, it’s been more about spending time around the park and the nature walk – Kelvin walkway that links up the Botanics and Kelvingrove -feeding the birds and squirrels. I’m lucky enough to live in a city that has such a beautiful green space right on my doorstep. There’s also a lovely nature reservoir up behind Maryhill now – The Claypits, which Keith introduced me to. He got married up there recently. Stunning views.
This combination of city life, industrial sounds and sonics of nature embedded in the heart of the West End are represented in my music I suppose. A dark rough and rawness blended with a light gentleness, that’s also reflected in me as a person I guess.
What music has inspired your sound? People have mentioned Coil when describing your work and I’ve used Virginia Astley and Shane Carruth’s Upstream Color score as references. Also, on a recent re-listen to “Kelvingrove” I thought of the Japanese artist Kama Aina who appeared on The Pastels’ Geographic label. Do any of these hit the mark?
I think the only thing I’ve consciously listened to that I’ve felt inspired by to make my own work is Time Is Away on NTS, in particular Derek Jarman’s Prospect Cottage episode, I listened to it on repeat during the early part of the pandemic.
Obviously I know Coil, again one I was introduced to via Optimo days, “Going Up” was always a fave, and maybe a subconscious influence. Neil Cooper mentioned Virginia Astley to me upon hearing Earth Mothers – I must confess I’d never heard of her. I did check her out briefly though. A little similar, but I’d say she’s a lot more about consistent light and joy, where mine tends to be a journey of light and dark. I haven’t listened to these other artists yet, but I will look into them.
What about non-musical inspirations such as films or books?
Well, films come with a film score right? Scores from the likes of Godard’s Le Mépris, which I adore, anything with Ennio Morricone, Carter Burwell, John Barry and Angelo Badalamenti are no doubt ingrained in me.
I did a lot more reading books when I was younger, pre-social media times. My attention span started to drop hugely for reading over the years, although since I’ve stopped drinking and late nights, it’s started to come back. I’d say Luke Turner’s book Out of the Woods was an inspiration for me, so much so I read a little section from it for “Fergus Trip”. You can hear me muttering about being lost in the woods in there somewhere.
You’ve self-released on your HotGem label. As one DIY operation to another, what are the benefits and otherwise to doing things yourself? I’m assuming that the vinyl production delays have been a nightmare for you?
Yeah, it’s a bit stressful doing it yourself, it’s a risk. And I have to do all my own marketing. Covid caused a delay on my first record, the factory came down with it. Small runs like mine are less of an issue than big runs in terms of delay though.
You signed to Castles in Space recently and there’s an album due next year, right? There’s quite a community around CiS and adjacent labels. What’s it been like getting involved in that community and what can we expect from the new record?
It’s a brilliant label and community which I’ve just become part of organically. Really lovely to be part of a growing family, so supportive and kind. Colin Morrison has been great, as well Kayla Painter who played me on her show then invited me to do a mix for Worldwide FM. Also folk like Thomas Ragsdale who features on my “Witches Bedroom” remixes release has been a gem. And of course Polypores, Euan, Paul Cousins, other artists like Apta, Field Lines Cartographer and Tudor Acid have felt like such a strong support network. Really I met a lot of these folk via Stuart McLean from The Dark Outside who released Earth Mothers on tape. I owe Stuart and his lovely wife Mel a lot.
As for my release on CiS, I’ve really no idea what I’m gonna make yet. Hoping to start on it early next year.
Do you have any plans to play live?
Hopefully later next year, but trying to source ways of funding me to do so. I’m working on a few other creative projects which will hopefully be more commercial to help fund me. I really need a new laptop and would like to be able to pay some people to play strings. Also would love some new kit. I’ve been asked to play various gigs and DJ sets, so hopefully I’ll make it happen.
Who do you consider to be your contemporaries?
Oh I don’t know, that’s for the listener to decide, I prefer not to try to compare myself to anyone else.
Would it be fair to say that your music contains aspects of magick and is incredibly in tune with nature?
Yes. I won’t go into the magick really, cause well, that’s pretty private. It’s not something I’m hugeeeeeely into, just dabble in it really. But well, magick is all around us daily, it’s just about harnessing some energy. In a way, anyone making or performing music is creating their own magick. I think part of it is interacting with wildlife and nature while on a slightly different level i.e. microdosing is like tuning into something ancient, while microdosing your brain is a bit more free from the modern ‘noise’, it’s a tiny portal into a slightly different dimension. The Earth, plants and wildlife aren’t affected by evolution in the same way human’s brains are, they haven’t been cluttered by technology and social constructs, they’re pure energy. Connecting with that and being a channel for it is where I feel I’m at I guess.
I’d recommend this podcast about magick and weird stuff that Polypores and Peter C Hine have started. I will be guesting on it at some point.
I’ve heard you extol the benefits of microdosing and I would say that your music has healing properties.
Well I’ve chatted a fair bit about the microdosing already, but yeah it’s a brain wash, helps untangle the knots. You can see and feel how everything is connected on this planet – we’re all one living organism, we come from the Earth, and we’ll go back to it, it’s a beautiful thing. It’s a great tool for trauma, PTSD, depression and creativity. It’s helped me so much. Making music is my own personal medicine, it seems to help others.
I’ve received a number of lovely messages saying it’s helped them. One in particular that stood out was from a girl who had suffered a brain injury, she would forget things she’d done within five minutes. She’d lost her life according to her, but she found my music to be one of the things that really helped her. A complete stranger, she got in touch out the blue to tell me this. I was blown away. If it can do that for at least one person, well that makes the struggle worth it.
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