Celebrating what would have been Andrew Weatherall's 61st birthday today, with something very, very special.
If you've been following the Bagging Area blog - and, if not, get over there now! (but do come back, please) - then you'll have read of Swiss Adam's path to the release of the double vinyl compilation, Sounds From The Flightpath Estate.
It's been an inspirational journey, all the more incredible with the relatively short time that's taken a group of friends with a idea to the realisation of that dream. From summer 2023 to this week, when my copy was delivered by the postman with what, in these times of vinyl production queues and delays alone, can only be described as incredibly on-the-nose timing.
It was worth waiting a couple more days to this morning. After all, for a record inspired by and infused with the spirit of Andrew Weatherall, it seemed only right to listen to it for the first time on his birthday.
I was up even earlier than usual this morning, pitch darkness outside, camomile tea brewing in the pot, headphones plugged in, armchair positioned just so, facing the window, the dawn light emerging gradually as I immersed myself in the album. I don't think I've enjoyed the ritual of playing a new vinyl album as much since I was a teen, rushing home from the shops with a purchase, eager to get into my room and giving the record a spin. This morning, I was right back there, with the heady rush of excitement and anticipation.
For starters, the whole package looks amazing; this is something that was designed to be held, pored over, enjoyed as a thing of beauty even before a single note of music has been heard. Sounds From The Flightpath Estate comes in a gatefold sleeve, beautifully designed by @personality___crisis, as the photos will attest.
From there, the experience of slipping out each 12" disc of black vinyl from it's paper sleeve, placing it on the turntable, gently brushing it, carefully lowering the needle onto the track in groove, then later flipping the side and doing it all over again. There's nothing quite like it. And then there's the pleasure of reading Adam's wonderfully heartfelt and articulate sleeve notes that provide the 'origin story' and also distill the essence of each contribution with vivid clarity. The passion is soaked into every letter, every typeface, every image, every groove.
Can the music possibly live up to this?
No.
Somehow, it manages to be even better than I could imagine...and I can imagine, believe me.
All of the 10 tracks on Sounds From The Flightpath Estate are exclusive and unreleased, with the exception of the opener, courtesy of Two Lone Swordsmen aka Andrew Weatherall and Keith Tenniswood. However, the song in question appeared on an obscure 10-track CD credited to Andrew and Keith, called Still My World. The CD was apparently a promo for a clothing range by the Italian fashion house Zegna, and available only in Japan circa spring/summer 2003.
Ironically, the title track and the one featured here - The Crescents - are the only two that I've heard before, via t'internet. But as Adam notes, The Crescent "has found a new home here, on vinyl for the first time" and it feels absolutely like the right place and right time.
The Crescents is a delicate three minutes, strummed guitar loops, intermittent rumbling bass, sounds echoing and drifting between channels, beatless, beautiful.
The Crescents lands somewhere between It's Not The Worst I've Looked ... Just The Most I've Ever Cared (from Tiny Reminders, 2000) and the beatless mix of Smokebelch II. Moments like this were used sparingly in the Weatherall ouevre, but always made an impact.
The gentle, ambient opening song segues nicely into the electro beats and bleeps of Red Machine by Sons Of Slough aka Ian Weatherall (Andrew's brother) and Duncan Gray. Describing the song as "like an 80s 12" dub remix" sounds like faint praise, but I mean it sincerely. 'Red Machine' in intoned on repeat over some lovely parps and squelches, the synth stabs and vocoder kicking in after a short while. Red Machine is labelled as a 'Golden Lion Soundcheck', a nod not just to the record label but the pub where they have played. Red Machine is the sound of two artists gearing up to have some fun; it must have been some night.
Taking the tempo right down into deep, dubby territory is Timothy J. Fairplay with Centurion Version. The Pablo-inspired melodica sounds are reminiscent of Weatherall's excursions to the far side be it with Timothy as The Asphodells or Two Lone Swordsmen or Sabres Of Paradise. It keeps the groove and simple structure going for nearly five minutes, but it's all that's needed really. A masterclass in minimalism.
Side 2 starts off with martial beats, dub undertow, funky bass, echo vox extracts and seemingly random phrases about UFOs in broken orbit, falling into happy valley green grass, roaring lions, spirit levels minute decay and police taking days. Yes, it's Justin Robertson's Deadstock 33's with Curtains Twitch on Peaks, the title repeated during the song. I've loved the slew of new and archive releases from Justin over the past 12 months or so and this track is every bit as good.
Four songs and one-and-a-half sides in and it's already patently clear that this album is not just a convenient repository for orphaned songs. It's a labour of love and a commitment to an inspiration and an ideal.
Before that thought has time to percolate, Richard Sen shakes me from my reverie with music that gets away from the window, out of the house, into town and onto the dancefloor. Tough On Chug, Tough On The Causes Of Chug (what a brilliant title) continues the trend of the 'deceptively simple'. On paper, a vocal sample, a repetitive chord sequence and synth washes. In Richard's expert hands, these ingredients combine and magic happens. A euphoric ending to the second side.
Side 3 steps off like a dub half, beats and bass dropping into the depths of sirenesque synths. And then the guitar kicks in, courtesy of Duncan Gray, strums, squalls and a scale that is epic without grandstanding.
This is Rude Audio aka Mark Ratcliff and also part of the Flightpath Estate collective, with Running Wild. If Richard Sen's contribution gets you out of the house and down the club, Running Wild is the one where you lose yourself on the floor. The aforementioned guitar is complemented with clattering dub drums and spaceflight bleeps and it is a monster of a tune.
Jesse Fahnestock knows a thing or two about music to get you moving, but he's also produced some sublimely soothing soundscapes as well as tunes that hit pretty much every mark between the two. A relative newcomer when you consider the roster as whole may have been a daunting prospect though none of this is apparent in Three Rings, his assured contribution as 10:40.
There's a great juxtaposition of frequent collaborator Emilia Harmony and a sampled preacher, both urging the listener to "join me please". As the song title subtly suggests, Three Rings contains a pleasing carousel swirl. In my mind, the sound evokes an image of a circus pitched up opposite a church, both parties in the entrance trying to persuade passers by to join their particular party. "I'd like to welcome you all inside my dreams, " breathes Emilia. I know which side I'm on...10:40 all the way. Brilliant stuff.
And in what seems like the blink of an eye and the twitch of an ear, the needle lifts and returns to it's carriage and I'm three quarters of the way through the album.
Side 4 begins with "helicopter rotor" synth stabs and padding percussion, chords sweeping in, sounds at times on the periphery of hearing, drawing you in, urging you to immerse yourself in the music. This is Sean Johnston aka Hardway Bros (all of them) with the Theme For Flightpath Estate.
Somewhere in the Flightpath Estate club hut (in my imagination, there's a club hut for Adam and co. to retreat and gather after hours when the Golden Lion is closed), there's a framed photo of Edward Woodward as The Equaliser. I can't think of a better tribute than your own theme tune and I think Sean has absolutely nailed it here.
The penultimate track is Human : Remains by The Light Brigade. Never heard of them? Well, it's a certain Belfast DJ apparently prevented from formally releasing the track under his own name due to his existing record deal though it's all over the credits and the music itself contains plenty of clues.
Human : Remains has been around for a few years, nearly but never quite finished until now. As such, the completed music simultaneously manages to sound right now whilst evoking memories of past work. There's a sheer joy in the gradual, layered build. I mean, it starts 'up' and just gets higher and higher until...you're seemingly floating on air, taking in the landscape below.
How do you come down from that?
How else?
The entire album has channeled the spirit of Andrew Weatherall and therefore it's inevitable that the journey ends with Smokebelch II, courtesy of Andy Bell.
The music gently takes hold of the listener, guides (and glides) you, pointing out the beauty that can still be found between the smokestacks and toxic belches of the city, heading to safer, cleaner, greener pastoral surroundings for the most wonderfully soft landing you can imagine.
An hour on and I realise the music has stopped, the needle is resting and I'm welling up. What an emotionally charged journey and rush to the head.
I'll hope you'll excuse today's later-than-usual post, not only to listen to the album but to then type the words, unfettered by editing and spell checking. To be honest, the last task was the easiest. The thoughts and feelings flowed easily and naturally.
I think repeat listens will unearth further delights and treasures, but what a first impression. I mean, as of itself, it's an incredible album. Knowing the inspiration for it and the courage of a bunch of music fans to dream big and to see it through is even more incredible.
There are no links today, as the music is licensed to vinyl (500 copies only) and not available digitally. The Golden Lion quickly sold out when pre-orders opened in February though Adam has noted the significance of suffixing the album title with 'Volume One'. In the meantime, Matt Hum has created a rather fine 22-min album taster, available on The Flightpath Estate Mixcloud page.
As a footnote, there is a dedication to Andrew Weatherall, who I can only think would be blown away by this stunning birthday present and the love that went into it's creation from everyone involved.
There's a second dedication to Isaac Robert Neville Turner, an inspiration for dad Adam who in turn has continued to be an inspiration to me and many others in the blogging and wider community. Isaac would be especially proud of his Dad right now, I think.
Thanks, Adam, that's another beer I owe you if we ever get to meet. If it's the Golden Lion, I can see that as an expensive round to include the Flightpath Estate as a whole!
Worth every penny, though, as was this work of art. Sounds From The Flightpath Estate is a perfect album. Thank you, everyone.