Motivational Music in the Morning ... Public Memory, Ringleader (Official Audio Track) ... from the Album: Wuthering Drum (2016) [Robert Toher Solo Project] #MMitM1 #PublicMemory #Ringleader #WutheringDrum #2016 #RobertToher
Public Memory - Ecco (Veil of Counsel ep)
I may have posted this before, but loving it again today! They have
a new ep out this year as well, Illusion of Choice, on Felte Records.
Public Memory, the solo project of ERAAS’ Robert Toher, will release his debut Lp “Wuthering Drum”, next month on Felte Records. “Zig Zag”, the third single from the album, is built around an hypnotic 808 drum loop with Toher’s spectral vocals echoing over a menacing bassline. Listen above.
Public Memory is the solo project of Brooklyn’s Robert Toher, recorded over the course of a year as he lived in Los Angeles temporarily. Previously of the group ERAAS, Robert places a greater emphasis on electronics in this new project. Rhythm is at the forefront, with the tone informed by stripped down, narcotic impressions of krautrock, hypnotic percussion, and subtly layered atmospherics. Robert’s debut release ‘Wuthering Drum’ consists of a slightly religious or spiritual element at its core; a sense of being in an existential crisis, while simultaneously being uplifted, in the face of change and the search for redemption in a faraway place, away from comfort… We talk to Robert about the inception of Public Memory, the impetus of piano and a good headphone walk…
TSH: Talk us through the inception of Public Memory – how it all came to fruition and your intentions for this body of work?
Robert: I had most recently been doing a band called ERAAS and after two albums we decided to stop working together. Though we are still friends we decided to go separate ways. I had always been working on other music on the side and I knew I wanted to carry on. I wanted to be able to start something fresh under a new name, with no “rules” no “predecessor” or any kind of pre-established aesthetic that I had to follow or referential artistic history tied to this new project. No rubrics or outside influence to inhibit it. I knew I wanted the word "memory" in the name, and one day I was walking and saw an old sign in a window for a "Notary Public" here in Brooklyn and I was like "Memory Public" and then I was like "Public Memory" and there it was. While it's somewhat of an emotional / romantic / cerebral name, it implies many things, and it's totally opened to interpretation.
TSH: Was there a certain type of concept linked to Public Memory that you identified with and it perhaps resonated with you?
Robert: I began working and let it steer itself. I expected it to sound something like ERAAS in a way, naturally, but it is distinctively different from that project in ways that feel more up to date, personal and relevant to me. I didn't have a concept of what exactly it would sound like, but I knew I wanted to continue with some of the themes I had began exploring with my part in ERAAS, and also invoke some new ideas and generally approach things from a different vantage point. A place I hadn't yet looked into, or understood really. That's where the real excitement began.
TSH: You’ve previously mentioned with past music that ‘there’s no agenda at hand except creating a mood’ – is this ethos still very much central to the Public Memory progression?
Robert: I think it was important for me to be able to say that at one point, during ERAAS. I kind of needed to say that our only agenda was creating a mood so I could put an end to feeling like I had to explain our songs. Sure, any artist should be able to speak insightfully and with integrity about their work, but based on some of the inquiries we had received back then, did I really need to be able to break "what exactly xyz song means" down into a precise list of individual parts that were representative of what everything meant? I felt like I was getting questions like that all of the time. I will maintain, still, that yes, creating a mood is one of the foremost fundamental aspects of what I want to do. Music is extremely visual for me, so the images that I associate with sounds are often the inspiration when beginning a new song… To further illustrate the process, since you've asked: most of the music I make begins with percussion. Then a bass element, and then I sing over it in glossolalia. I later go back and figure out words that make sense with the glossolalia. Glossolalia works best for me because it is an instinctive reaction to the music - the sounds and syllables that to me are expressive and most inherent / apropos as a reaction to the mood of the music as it stands at that point in time. So in a sense, it's like automatic writing, and thus I often let things steer themselves. I'm creating a mood but also the mood is creating the song for me. What's interesting to me about this is that when I later find the words that fit to the glossolalia sounds, they often seem arbitrary at the time. Then some months go by after I've finished an album and I listen to the songs and the lyrics make almost complete sense as a kind of "letting" or catharsis of some kind, to whatever I was thinking about and dealing with at the time that I had written them and the music that they now live inside. In other words, usually, only in hindsight do I fully realise what the songs are about - at least lyrically speaking.
TSH: For the excellent debut ‘Wuthering Drum’, in terms of instrumentations and compositional styles, what were you primarily drawn to?
Robert: Cheers. I knew I wanted it to be heavily percussion-oriented, to utilize "repetition as a form of change", to employ strong vocals but in the context of (arguably) experimental music. To use found sound and field recordings. To draw on ambient music, to invoke elements of krautrock aesthetics, and to use a more limited palette in terms of instrumentation and production. I used one synth for this album - the Korg MS20 - which is monophonic. I wanted to approach the synth as more of a classical instrument - layering one "voice" at a time, in a whole-is-greater-than-the-sum-of-its parts kind of application. I enjoy approaching synths, especially monophonic synths, more like a traditional instrument, using it to write parts the way one might write for string instruments. Lastly, I knew I wanted to write shorter songs. To experiment with song lengths that were much shorter overall than the lengths of songs that my previous bands had written. Most of the songs on 'Wuthering Drum' are under 4:00.
TSH: How key was it for you to give each song an individual identity?
Robert: I wanted the album to sound like it all came from the same world, which is why I'm fond of the idea of a limited palette. I think with a limited palette one can achieve this, but the trick is finding ways to push that limited palette and put it to its best use. Working under constrictions, to me, always yields better results than just doing whatever you please without any sensitivity to limitation. I think that kind of discipline is important to all art…. With 'Wuthering Drum' I wanted the songs to sound like they were all from the same body of work, while at the same time, not being too samey or derivative of one another.
TSH: Let’s talk about the stellar record. Firstly, ‘Lunar’ – with the moon signifying emotion and change to you – how did you look to incorporate these types of factors into the track with sound?
Robert: ‘Lunar’ is the final track on the album. I've sort of made a statement about this song already for Chapter's Composition Disorder Series, which I feel like is based upon this question, I'll quote a bit of that here and expand upon it: "There is a sort of "procession" feel at play here - the sound and the cadence of the beat, the bass notes and the chimes together - the mood here, to me, feels very much like the will to carry on despite circumstances, with a kind of unabashed calm. There is a sadness at hand, but a greater, more eternal consent with the truth - be it immediately desirable or not, shines through. It feels like the acceptance of change, embracing said change and rolling with it, perhaps having learned through previous scenarios where one was more inclined to resist or to try to steer things in an opposite direction. This is sort of a closed-eye nod to dutifully embrace circumstances, whether or not they seem promptly apropos or desirable on the surface"… When presented with this feeling/mood that was so informed by the sound of the initial elements of the song, the theme of the moon came to mind. Hence its title "Lunar." The moon to me, signifies two things: emotion and change. Full moons (fully illuminated) and new moons (non-illuminated) are high times of spiritual change and change in consciousness and perception - pertaining to the self and relationships. They signify the end of stanza-like eras in cognizance, and the beginnings of new ones. There is very much a "conclusory" aspect to the song. This made it a strong candidate for an album closer. I'll add that rather than ending with the throes of internal and interpersonal conflict - I felt that the appropriate culmination here (which it also was for me in my personal life), was a sense of calm and closure. Despite what may be undesirable circumstances in the present tense, it looks knowingly, if courageously toward the road ahead.
TSH: What sort of motivations do you draw on to pen a song like ‘Ringleader’?
Robert: ‘Ringleader’ is one of the more odd / outcast songs on the album. ‘Earwig’ is the other, in my opinion. Each in different ways. ‘Ringleader’ was the first track I wrote for this record. Musically it's been said that there is a trap influence which I don't deny. It almost feels like an opening track to me, and at one time was going to be the first track on the record. In some ways it exemplifies the beginning of the change that is later resolved in "Lunar." If ‘Ringleader were a Tarot card, it would be The Tower. Upheaval, revelation. The cleaving-away aspect of God. I almost feel like in part, this song holds a kind of energy that I'm a little bit afraid of. The singer / protagonist, here, is being ripped out of one state of being with a rude awakening, in the way the track begins and in the first verse. It later has an eye-of-the-storm moment where I say "this isn't my first time I know" - which acts as a kind of reflective instance or almost a sombre calm, acknowledging that (perhaps) this kind of upheaval is something this character has gone through in the past. It's a strange song to me, a kind of red herring or a foil to some of the other tracks on the record. While it was refined and polished later on, the bulk of the song came to me one night in Brooklyn, a few months before I moved to Los Angeles. I was alone in my apartment for a stretch of days and without trying to embellish or stretch the truth, I truly remember being very afraid that night. Of what I'm not sure. An energy that was with me. I'm getting chills as I write this. Maybe it's just because it's personal for me and others won't feel this, but it's one of those songs that I am a little wary about listening to at the wrong time.
TSH: ’Interfaith’ consists of alluring courses of impressive layers and soundscapes. Tell us how you fleshed out this song from the ground up…
Robert: The basic "riff" of this song and the vocal melodies exist in another form from 6 or 7 years ago. I was living out in western Massachusetts and I had written this song but with live drums and guitars. The melody was the same, the pace was faster. This was one of the last songs I did for ‘Wuthering Drum’. I was going through old unreleased tracks one day and I came across it and I was like I want to translate this into the Public Memory world, and so I did. One bit of trivia here is that the verses contain a percussive sample of a coin spinning on a table that has been pitched down. I'm guessing I was inspired to sample a coin-drop from something I heard on a Burial record.
TSH: With the record being laid down during a sabbatical in Los Angeles, how would you sum up your level of focus?
Robert: Would have been nice if it was more of a sabbatical. During my time in Los Angeles I worked both at home producing audio textbooks and also worked downtown in a kitchen. My life was simple. I rode my bike to and from work going from echo park to downtown LA. I listened to tracks I was working on, listened to other bands, daydreamed while at work, came home and worked into the night. On days off I barely went out. I think during a year in LA I went to the beach twice, but just to look at it. I was very much in my studio (which was a small bedroom) during most of my free time. Not to give the impression that there was an over-romanticized kind of Frankenstein's Castle type thing going on, the way people often do when they talk about making records - but to answer your question I was quite focused on my work, yes.
TSH: It’s been mentioned that there's a darkness, an intensity of approach to Public Memory's sound that is difficult to define. Do you feel there is a sense of discovery for the listener to interpret?
Robert: I want the listener to interpret it however they like. If it makes them feel something, if it communicates something, or says something to them about their life or the lives of others, that's great. If it doesn't, that's perfectly fine. It's not for everyone. Additionally, one can't control the way people interpret art. If people start associating me with darker bands and "goth" music and that sort of thing (which is already happening a little) - that's fine. I can't control it. But for me I feel like the record is its own thing. While I don't want to be showboating, I'm grateful that a number of friends and colleagues have told me that the record is very much the kind of record that grows in impact with repeated listens. That's one of the highest complements that I could receive.
TSH: What sort of non-musical elements that you read or watch do you feel seeped into the process or inspiration of this record?
Robert: I'm inspired by nostalgia, memory, travel, the spiritual world, nature, relationships and of course art. I don't really watch many films or read many books. Gasp - I don't read many books? Certainly that's nothing to be proud of per se, or at least to be showcasing. I just have a hard time finishing books, I should say. Films too, for that matter. But I love starting them. The last book I read cover to cover was over a year ago and it was actually the 33 1/3 book about David Bowie's LOW, by Hugo Wilcken. Anyone who cares about David Bowie should read this book.
TSH: What sort of ideas do you have for the live translation of Public Memory material?
Robert: The live band is myself and my friend Vanessa. Right now it is two samplers, two synthesizers, vocals and hand percussion (ie shakers, tambourines, etc). Someday I might expand it to be a 3 or 4 piece. I would love to see it fleshed out in that way, but frankly it's difficult when it comes to regular rehearsals and of course touring. I've played in and toured in bands that were 4, 5, and 6 people. I've found it very inefficient and unsustainable. At least at the small level all of these bands were at. The number of people may change down the road, but right now I'd rather work closely with one person.
TSH: With regards to the use of the delicate piano, what sort of approach were you looking to imply and generate?
Robert: I love the piano - both in full form the way one would play it live, but also particularly in the form of a sample. I didn't sample any records on Wuthering Drum but I did create samples of my own piano playing. Of course "trip hop" as it were, is a certain influence for me, so wanting to use pianos in that sense and approach was a starting point for me, which I think evolved and ended up leading me somewhere adjacent, but decidedly different. I like this idea of a beautiful, large, string instrument in the context of something more percussive and modern, often shaped into repeating phrases and run through effects. I love playing piano but I am terrible at it compared to most people I know who might be considered as one who "plays piano." But there's just something emotionally provocative and wonderful about it. It is almost immediately romantic to me and I suppose some of the mystery that comes with knowing it in a very intuitive and untutored fashion, is what is so exciting and inspiring for me.
TSH: What sort of music do you personally gain most from?
Robert: Anything that says something to me about my life or the lives of others in a compelling or important way. I don't really want to list bands. Things that make me dream or reinvent my reality. Through that reinvention I feel one can actually access things that are a part of their reality that they wouldn't normally be able to access without reinventing said reality. Anything that moves me, really.
TSH: Outside of music, how do you like to unwind?
Robert: I like to be outdoors. I like to visit with my friends and talk and listen to music. I like to take photographs and I do a lot of writing. I've been thinking of releasing something in between a zine and a chapbook under the Public Memory name. Just for free at shows, consisting of mostly short-form writing and a few photographs. Hand-made with a printer and a photocopier. That might be nice to do. Other than that I don't have any particular hobbies really. I like to walk around at night by myself. Who's the goth now? But seriously, one of the greatest pleasures is a good headphone walk isn't it? Be it somewhere rural or urban. I guess you could say that's how I "unwind."
TSH: Finally, as you venture ahead, what matters most to you with regards to the development with Public Memory?
Robert: I think what will be important is to maintain a thirst that is tantamount to the thirst one has when they make their first record under a new project. To always be challenging myself, to always be true to myself, to make sure that I don't fall into habits or formulas or find myself repeating things I've already done. I think it's important to be always moving and embracing change and never trying to steer things too much. Expectations are toxic. Goals are much better.
