How do we define Cornish music? It’s a tricky question.
As the introduction to this website says; “what makes a piece of music Cornish for one person, might not be what makes it Cornish for another”.
Indeed, should Cornish music be written in Cornwall, about Cornwall, or by a Cornish person? Should the composer have been born in Cornwall, or have family roots that go back several generations? And how much does it really matter?
Sure, Cornwall is a place with a past, with a strong sense of culture and tradition, but it’s also a contemporary place. New things are being invented all the time and the plurality of what “Cornishness” means is being stretched, as it should be, evermore so.
That’s why I have a huge amount of respect for the good folks at Cornish National Music Archive, who are trying their best, to make sense of all these questions. “From step-dancing to brass bands, electronica to folk sessions, and Christmas carols to bagpipes” boasts the website homepage, however when I searched the archive for Cornwall’s most well recognised, world renowned electronica artist, I found, to my surprise, nothing.
So, I wondered if I could make a suggestion and in turn have been invited to select my top five Aphex Twin tracks. Perhaps even submit a short introduction as to why I think his work should be recognised as the national music of Cornwall (or at least included in this archive).
Aphex Who?
So what does the music of Cornwall sound like? Well, that depends on which generation you ask.
Whilst trying to avoid sweeping generalisations, I’d place a bet that if you asked Cornish people aged 60+ what the music of Cornwall sounds like to them, they’d answer – choirs, hymns, brass bands, shanties, pub songs, folk music and bagpipes (at a push). In 2021, whilst collecting interviews for my podcast The Reason Why, I asked Elizabeth Carne, The Grand Bard of Gorsedh Kernow, what she thought of Aphex Twin…
“Sorry, I don’t know them” was her answer.
I found this interesting, because for a lot of my generation Aphex Twin is the true sound of Cornwall. And whilst I can appreciate the music and social effect of brass bands, choirs and traditional music, I’d be lying if I said I could relate to much of it. The music of Aphex Twin can be beautiful and sublime, but it can also be nightmarish and jarring. A bit like Cornwall.
It’s challenging at times and uncomfortable, whilst being progressive, original and resourceful. A bit like Cornwall.
It’s made a massive impact on the rest of the world, whilst being clearly influenced by the surroundings and landscape in which it was made. A bit like Cornwall.
I’m often reminded of the opening sequence to David Lynch’s film Blue Velvet (1986), where the camera drifts into the soft, sunlit safety of an American suburban neighbourhood. Deep red roses line the white picket fence, a fireman waves from his truck, children cross the road and a man is watering his lawn. But as the sickly sweet music plays on, the man in his garden suddenly collapses in pain. He writhes with agony on the sodden ground – is it a stroke or a heart attack? The hose pipe sprays wildly, as a dog barks, unaware of its suffering owner.
Then, slowly the music fades, as the camera burrows into the grass, deeper and deeper, until we see an enlarged wriggling mass of shiny, black beetles and worms. A sinister reminder of what lies beneath the pristine shine of a “happy place” – there’s a dark side that we don’t want to talk about as much.
That’s how I feel about Cornwall sometimes; behind the squeaky clean veneer of holiday cottages, sunlit beaches and quaint heritage – a strange, wild and sometimes ugly underbelly awaits. You’ll find it once the visitors have gone, late at night, if you look hard enough.
The music of Richard D. James aka Aphex Twin, for me, encapsulates the very essence of that underbelly… acting like a soundtrack to this strange, bipolar landscape. But I wonder why?
Born in Ireland, he spent most of his childhood living in Lanner and attended Redruth School. He began making music aged 14 and during the late 80’s was involved in the Cornish free party scene; a tight nit community who played techno and acid house music in “barns, secret coves and behind sand dunes”.* His first release – the 12” EP ‘Analogue Bubblebath’ was released in 1991 and was later hailed as “one of the key moments in the history of dance music” by The Guardian.
There’s a brilliant interview with Aphex Twin and his mate Luke Vibert, during a Channel 4 TV show – Sounds of The Suburbs from 1999. John Peel drives around Britain, meeting musicians and artists on the geographic and artistic fringes. In this episode, Peel interviews the two Cornish scallywags in the empty and iconic Gwennap Pit.
Peel asks –
“What was it that was going on locally that inspired you to do what you do?”
Aphex Twin replies –
“Nothing basically, that’s what made me do music. There is a music scene but it’s nothing that I was interested in, so it was just out of boredom really”.
I love this. There’s a certain type of resourcefulness that one needs, to entertain oneself in Cornwall and that sentence sums it up perfectly. Remember that this interview was pre-Internet, so it was much harder to discover new music from other places, to be inspired or influenced by distant scenes. He made it up as he went along – crafting his own unique sound. Quite a Cornish trait, don’t you think?
If you live in Cornwall, you often have to drive a lot. Fact. During my teenage years I would ferry mates to and from late night parties down the narrow, winding lanes (as I was the only one who didn’t drink) in my Mums Peugeot 106. I still don’t drink, but I do still love to drive through the Cornish lanes, late at night, windows down, Aphex Twin blaring out of the stereo.
It’s an exhilarating, perfect soundtrack to the dark and strange Cornish underbelly. As I pass frantic badgers, dubious parked cars in laybys and drunken people wandering home… That’s when I feel this place is in its truest form.
Beautiful and complex.
A bit like the opening of Blue Velvet.
A bit like the music of Aphex Twin.
Seamas Carey 2022
Seamas Carey is a Cornish artist & choir leader known for his podcast series The Reason Why and controversial comedy show Help! I Think I’m A Nationalist.
Notes
*Davis, Erik (March 1994). “Monsters of Techno”. Spin. Palm Coast: Camouflage Associates.
Avril 14th (Drukqs, 2001)
The hauntingly beautiful piano piece that’s used in numerous films and TV shows. For me, this is Cornwall on a calm, sunlit late afternoon. It’s worth listening to the backwards version on YouTube too, arguably even more haunting.
Windowlicker (Windowlicker Single 1999)
This is Aphex Twin at his grooviest and sexiest (with an apt cover image). It invites you in and surprises nearly every 8 bars.
T69 collapse (Collapse EP 2018)
Admittedly I have the music video imagery for this track forever etched into my mind – terrifying, glitchy digitally rendered images of Redruth, shredded and warped. This music twists from chaotic to hopeful. It never sits still.
Alberto Balsalm (I Care Because You Do…1995)
An iconic dark groove featuring (presumably) a moving chair squeak and what sounds like a barbecue lid being drummed. It’s easy going, but there’s a sense of melancholy in there too – a reoccurring theme.
Kesson Dalek (Drukqs 2001)
Upfront, cinematic sadness – utilised beautifully in Gideon Koppel’s documentary Sleep Furiously (2007). Pure yearning.
Yes indeed Seamas Carey, what does the “music of Cornwall” sound like? Surely it depends on personal taste, age, cultural influences, historic influences, landscape influences and, on a more basic level, access to the things that make music possible – instruments, manuscripts/sheet music (or some method of writing compositions down), recording gear and so on. Similar to many other places I suppose. Many musicians would say that using the language, Kernewek, in songs is a mark of distinction, regardless of the genre, so Aphex Twin with Kernewek might appeal to an audience who were keen to support their identity as Cornish but were not choir, folk or brass band fans. Some people identify with the rhythm and time signature of other Celtic musics, such as 6/8 or, in the case of Breton influence, 5/4. Many singers have adopted “Cornwall My Home” as a modern anthem, but the melody and sentiments expressed are timeless and might one day be given the Aphex Twin treatment by some enterprising person who prefers to express these sentiments in a different way. Perhaps this music could best be described as one of many “musics of Cornwall” in the same way as Gwenno’s techo style has captured the mainstream music industry in a way that other styles have not. I was interested to see young poet Pol Hodge (now the Grand Bard of Cornwall) featured in the short film of John Peel in Cornwall. Pol is a man who has consistently promoted Cornwall as a place of inspiration and technical expertise and continues to make a case for Cornwall, a place now so heavily diluted by outside influences that one might indeed wonder what next, but most people are influenced through their lifetimes in an ever expanding world of culture while never forgetting their roots, however that is expressed musically.
Yes the “Musics of Cornwall” is a good way of putting it. We also have a feature on “Big Al Hodge” in the CNMA. As a rock musician touring with Leo Sayer “Cornwall” did not spring to mind but anyone listening to him live was never left in doubt that he was a Bodmin boy and Cornish through and through. He also composed the soundtrack for D.M.Thomas’s play “Hellfire Corner” tellng the story of Cornish Miner and Rugby international Bert Soloman which it would be nice to hear more of.
Nice to se a younger version of our current Grand Bard, Pol Hodge, interviewed by John Peel alongside of Aphex Twin! Many thanks Seamas.