Taylor Deupree - January
Spekk
2004
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from Hong Kong SAR China
seen from Netherlands
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany
seen from China

seen from Malaysia
seen from China

seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
Taylor Deupree - January
Spekk
2004
Taylor Deupree — January. 2004. Spekk + 12k (2018). ~ [ Album Review | 1) BBC + 2) Boomkat ] ~ [ Interview | 1) Tiny Mix Tapes + 2) Drifting, Almost Falling ]
1) Tiny dischords threaten to unbalance the delicate equilibrium of January's first track, "Img_0083", like a nail protrubing from a wooden floor might cause a spinning top to skid and topple over. But somehow the track manages to maintain its fragile balance. The main rhythmic impetus is provided by a looped fragment, possibly sourced from a musical box.
Its sound causes me to recall a little merry-go-round nightlight which used to light the darkness of a friend's room. The music conjures an ambience reminiscent of childhood: in its repetition might be spied the echo of infant voices and nursery rhymes like prefigured memories. "Img_0083" utilises the title format applied to digital image files and, although it's pure supposition, perhaps "Img_0083" is the photograph of a child¹s room, the blurred movement of an infant's arm rising from a cot.
"Midlight"is a further evocation of this theme;a woman's voice heard through the equivalent of a hall of sonic mirrors repeatedly enunciates the word 'tiptoe' in soothing tones. "Quiet_C" is pure shivering ambience, the feeling of the early hours when everything is strange and spooked because the body rebels against being awake; welcome pauses emphasise the penumbral delicacy of Deupree's sound. When "Quiet_C" eventually concludes my ears hum for a brief period in the ensuring silence.
Why is the imagery of childhood called to mind? On the inside of the cover there appears to be an endearing dedication to Deupree's newborn child. The photograph on the attractive booklet provides no supporting evidence however, displaying as it does an image of cloudy blue sky seen through the cantilever of a bridge.
On the other hand the track titles extend shallow footholds for such associations: "Skimming", "Midlight", "Quiet_C". January's five tracks are essentially textures which are simultaneously rhythmic and static. There's no distinction between either element: any one sound functions as both pulse and grain. It may seem ridiculous to associate the imagery of children and their surroundings with sound this abstract and yet that very abstraction allows it to be almost literally a sounding board for the imagination. If this urge is successfully resisted, January might instead convey a nebulous, somewhat airless quality like the arid warmth generated inside a computer.
Thankfully there's no edict denying the right to create drama and feeling from a limited number of signs, and the desire to make these sounds emotionally meaningful can be argued to be the fulfilment of a non-binding contract between artist and listener.
January is not a million miles from Oval's work, but it's calmer, less noisy and sustains a more fragile beauty than its German cousins. Its reflective gentleness makes it welcome as both foreground and background sound/music.
2) January represents a real high point in Taylor Deupree's catalogue, coming after his landmark album Stil. but still prior to the more ear-friendly tones of Northern, which found the 12k boss incorporating real instruments into his sonic arsenal. The album was based on the experience of touring in Japan, and features various sonic elements derived from that experience, including vocal recordings from fellow microsound artist Sawako, and snippets of toy instruments all kneaded together into a warm digital tangle. 'Img0083' continues where Stil. left off, looping aborted melodic audio fragments until, after a protracted period of time, further details like voices and soft drones rise up from obscurity. As experimental digital electronics go, this is about as soulful as it gets. The spectrally-sifted sound world explored on 'Skimming' is vintage Deupree, making computer-processed audio sound uncommonly physical - far more tactile than any such synthetic music has any right to. After the rainy, faded grey tones of 'Shibuya9', the most pop-friendly piece here - 'Midlight' - shudders into life. At just under six minutes it stands as the shortest track on the album, but it's brimming with a sophistication based around its stuttering, suspended animation structure. The concluding piece, 'Quiet_C' is less loop-based than the rest of the album, mapping out an irregular, meandering path across its nine minutes. The track is comprised of multitudinous languid oscillator tones gently lapping over one another in the most slow and gradual fashion, bringing the album to a luxuriously beautiful close. Any 12k devotees who missed January first time around would do well to put this right at the top of their 'must have' list. It's one of those rare electronic records that just gets better with age.
3) Since its inception in 1997, experimental music label 12k has been winning over listeners with its distinctive brand of quiet minimalism, employing a radically pared-down musical and visual language to present novel amalgams of the digital and the organic. With seminal releases by Ryuichi Sakamoto, Christopher Willits, Stephan Mathieu, Stephen Vitiello, and Shuttle358 over its 20-year lifespan, 12k has established itself as one of the most recognizable outposts for modern ambient and experimental electronic music today.
Label head and musician Taylor Deupree — who has himself contributed some of the label’s most stunning releases under his own name — initially conceived of the label more as philosophical than commercial project. (12k’s website still cites twelve principles upon which 12k was founded, which include such maxims as, “Treat your audience as they are: intelligent, passionate lovers of art and sound,” and “Stay quiet, stay small.”) As the label’s stature grew, Deupree says that he felt a responsibility to 12k artists to make the venture financially sustainable, all the while holding fast to the label’s core principles — a high-wire act that continues to this day.
Deupree has managed the label’s roster, release schedule, package design, publicity, social media, shipping, and often audio mastering by himself since the beginning, working out of his home studio in rural upstate New York. I visited him there to discuss the initial inspiration, day-to-day operation, and future outlook for a small art label such as 12k, as it collides with current trends in music discovery, promotion, streaming, and social media.
What’s the primary function that you see a small label such as 12k serving today?
I think the label still serves an important curatorial and communal function. Often, reviews of individual records on 12k will talk about the label as a whole, not just the album in question. I owe a lot to the listeners and writers who understand that context, and have been strengthening that idea of the curatorial aspect of this community, which is one of the few things that we have left. You have bigger labels that can offer tour support, all this stuff, which I can’t do. But the history of the label, and the followers, and the people who say, “Oh, it’s on 12k so I’ll probably like it” ― that means a lot. You can offer a new artist a sense of community, as well as a digital network and a press network.
I do feel a responsibility to the artists to at least sell something. People know they’re not making a lot of money on the label, but hopefully they’re at least getting some kind of “street cred” that’ll help them get a gig or help them get to a bigger label. I don’t keep my artists on any type of exclusive basis. I’m a tiny label. If they can go from here to something bigger, that’s great. They all deserve it. I know what my limits are.
What do you look for in other artists as the label’s curator? To what degree do you favor a resonance with the label’s existing aesthetic versus a singular artistic point of view?
I look for both. I always look back at the history of 12k and there are kinds of clumps of styles, trends. And it’s all based around what I’m into at that moment. It’s always evolving, but I tend to get people who fit whatever I’m currently into. But I really like it when I get a demo that’s a shot out of left field and I can see how it would work on the label. The most recent example of that is Gareth Dickson. He’s one of my favorite 12k artists, but he’s a singer-songwriter. He just does these beautiful, melancholic songs with acoustic guitar and voice. If you played me that 15 years ago and said, “This is what you’re going to be releasing,” I’d be like, “Get out of here, there’s no way I’m putting a guitarist and a vocalist on 12k.” But things change. I was so excited to put it out. And people might listen to it and say, “Wait, this is on 12k?” But then maybe they’ll see how it makes sense. It’s quiet, it’s mellow, it’s minimalist and honest, there’s a lot of reverb. It might not have worked back when I started when the label, when everything was really synthetic. I never even thought I’d release an album that didn’t have any synths on it. But once you do that kind of thing, you’ve opened up a new avenue. And yet I’d like to think that there’s something that binds it all together.
How do you manage to find time to run the label amongst you other professional roles as mastering engineer and musician?
Doing it by myself for 20 years, I’ve definitely got a routine down. I know how to do it. There are all these little things to get a release ready that I can squeeze in between other projects: working on the art, getting the mastering done, writing the press release. Or at night, sitting on the couch, I can populate the website or get promotional mailings out. Those kind of things I can do any hour of the night. Then once something’s out, it’s running to the post office to ship orders and stuff like that. It’s a lot of small, little jobs. You can do one thing here and one thing there. As opposed to mastering, where you need a big chunk of time to do the album, or writing music, where you really want to take a few hours and get lost in it. The label’s a little more business-y. Maybe the danger there is that you might get too comfortable. You’ve been doing it so long, you fall into these habits, for better or for worse. So I’ll always try to bounce ideas off of label-mates. “No, that kind of packaging is not that good. Let’s try something like this.” It’s good to have those outside ideas and feedback.
A lot of times I’ve actually thought, “Should I get more people? Should I make it a bigger company and get an office somewhere?” I’ve always not done that ― which is probably a good thing because it may have tanked by now. For the benefit of the artists, 12k seems much bigger than it is. The aura around the label has grown to be much greater than just me in the basement just packing up orders. And that’s been by design since day one. It’s not like I’m putting anything false out there. I’m just to trying to create this sense of community, or this curatorial sense — this little ecosphere of happening — and hope it gets out there. And it’s been a long time. Half of it must be just how many years it’s been running. But it’s gotten out there and it’s bigger than just one guy running it in his spare time, which is great.
I think if you were going to start a label today, you’d really have to do something different. Releasing a CD and downloads on Bandcamp — I mean, anyone can do it — but with today’s flooded landscape, I don’t know if that would be enough. Years ago, it was easy. Now, it’s like you have to do something radical.
You’re quite active on a variety of social media platforms personally. Do you feel that’s helped build the label’s visibility as well?
I think it’s one of the only ways that I can do it. I’m very conscious that no matter what forum I’m posting on, it always comes back to me and, by extension, the label. People have always put my name and the label name in the same sentence. So everything I say, even if it’s on my own personal Twitter feed, is a direct reflection on the label — and, as a result, a direct reflection on the artists on the label. So everything I do, I do under the 12k umbrella — what I’m talking about reflects what the label’s about. Whether it’s about a piece of gear or whatever, hopefully it adds up to all this cool stuff that makes the label what it is.
I could make accounts or post in different places under strictly separate identities and try to keep me separate from the label, but I don’t. I purposely just make it all into one thing and it’s all part of what the label’s about. The label’s about this kind of sound or that kind of sound. Or this synth. Or studio acoustics or photography. It’s just this whole world that I kind of live in — for better or worse. And that probably couldn’t be possible without social media.
For a label whose aesthetics have come to be associated with the quiet, insular, and slow, it’s interesting that you’ve embraced social media, with its seemingly antithetical values.
Twitter and social media are great for getting the word out, but you can’t forget to go outside and turn the computer off, embrace some of these things that the label’s about. It’s like we’re pulling all of what’s out there into the music, using social media to get the word out, and then you can go back out there and enjoy it. One of my favorite Brian Eno Oblique Strategies is: “Go outside and shut the door.” The more these iPhones and social media are running our lives, the more we want to get away from it. Trying to explain that to my teenager is not very easy. But I want to get away from it, especially the screen. My own music has become less and less reliant on the computer lately.
You started 12k in 1997. What would be your advice to someone thinking about starting their own label in 2017? Is there still room for a small experimental label to survive in today’s climate?
If you asked me a year ago, I’d probably have a different answer than I do today. I think if you were going to start a label today, you’d really have to do something different. Releasing a CD and downloads on Bandcamp — I mean, anyone can do it — but with today’s flooded landscape, I don’t know if that would be enough. Years ago, it was easy. Now, it’s like you have to do something radical. Just in the last year, things have gotten even harder then they were.
What’s happened in the last year?
Well, a few things. First, with streaming taking over, you’re seeing digital sales drop. Less people are buying music from iTunes. I think people are listening just as much — or more than they ever were — but more and more people are streaming and paying less and less for their music.
All of us who ran small labels 10 years ago — when MP3s were just becoming the norm — we were worried about the end of the physical product. In the end, I don’t think digital sales actually hurt CDs sales all that much, although the pirating really hurt, especially for the small labels. Now, it’s the streaming. I have friends considering ending their labels that they’ve been running for a long time because CDs just aren’t selling. Streaming has taken over as a really legal form of piracy.
And then in January 2016, the U.S. Postal Service decided to raise their prices on international shipping. From that day forward, intentional label sales have just spiked down. Back in 2012 or so it used to cost $1.56 to send one CD to a mail-order customer in Europe or Japan. Then in 2013 they announced a price increase, suddenly quadrupling the price to $6.55. Fortunately, no one minded and it didn’t seem to be a big problem. In January 2016 they raised their prices again; it now costs $13 to send a CD. Vinyl records are $22. The cost of shipping is now as much as the cost of the product. That seemed to be the line that people are no longer willing to pay. People look at that and look at a download and say, “I’ll just take the download.”
The aura around the label has grown to be much greater than just me in the basement just packing up orders. And that’s been by design since day one. It’s not like I’m putting anything false out there. I’m just to trying to create this sense of community, or this curatorial sense — this little ecosphere of happening — and hope it gets out there.
How do you buy your music personally?
I don’t stream music, but I don’t buy CDs either. I buy almost all my music from iTunes. Here I am making CDs, but I’m part of the problem. The thing is, though, that every artist you talk to would always prefer a physical release. It’s been talked to death, but it’s nice to have that CD — to sell at shows or to show to your friends and family. But it’s getting harder and harder to sell them. I’m getting by, thankfully, from devoted listeners who’ve been following the label for 19 years. You actually have a lot people buying records who just listen to the downloads — they just like having the physical object, and that’s great. Reading the liner notes and holding the record. Putting the needle down, and listening to it. Standing up and flipping it over. Maybe it’s an old way of thinking and old guys like me think it’s a lost joy.
Have you considered any alternate release formats that fulfill this craving for the physical object?
Yeah. One thing I’m doing for my solo album [Somi, 2017], as a guinea pig for upcoming 12k releases, is this small format that’s a 20-page hardcover, color book. It’s a little bigger than CD size, and comes with the CD in it. Really nicely made and printed. In this case, it’s photography of mine that goes with the music. I mean, it’s not groundbreaking [laughs] — a million people have done books and CDs, and it’s expensive to make. But if it works, it may just replace regular CDs completely for future releases. Each artist would be responsible for filling 20 pages. Lyrics, writing, photographs, scores — something visual. The label’s always been really visual, so this would be an extension of that.
Through all the ups and downs, do you feel that you’ve achieved what you originally set out to do with 12k?
Oh yeah, it’s exceeded my expectations. But the goal was always to keep it going. The goal will never be finished. Some people tell me I should be proud just to be still doing it now in this environment after so many years. But the main thing it’s given me, in a personal way, is all my friends. All my best friends around the world are people I met through the label — really good friends who I confide in — from demos I received years ago. So it’s just created this sense of family. And to be able to go to Japan with a group of guys and do a little label tour — the audience is really excited and we get to hang out for a week in another country — that’s pretty special.
I trust that my listeners are intelligent and love supporting music and will be there — and they have been. But I’ve also learned in recent years that we have no idea what’s around the corner. As new generations come up who haven’t heard of you, or don’t know what iTunes is, or don’t know what a CD is, then it’s up to me to adapt. Up to this point the adaption has been slow, and at some point it may get extreme. I don’t think the label would ever just stop, though. I’m going to just weather on doing what I do.
4) If you are familiar with the music covered on this blog then you would be very much aware about both the 12k label and it’s owner and artist in his own right, Taylor Deupree. Without being overly hyperbolic the influence of both 12k and Deupree cannot be overstated. From the principles that have guided him for the past twenty plus years, the minimal design ethic that makes each release a work of art as well as the curation of a catalog that includes the likes of Marcus Fischer, Simon Scott, Federico Durand, Stephen Vitiello, Seaworthy, Gareth Dickson and others, the influence of the label, it’s ethos and it’s genre defining and genre bending music have made a notable imprint on Ambient/Sound Art/ Electroacoustic/ Minimal/ Experimental music. Taylor kindly took time out of his busy schedule to answer my questions.
*The 12k 12 principles were inspired by the bad experiences you had with a previous label. For principles which are over twenty years old they are very prescient in this mindful/minimalist age. Running a label is it difficult to stay true to them when you see the potential to rapidly grow or expand?
I wouldn’t say the 12 principles were inspired by the bad experience I had with another label, but rather the impetus to start my own label was. But, no, I don’t find it hard to stick to these principles, nor do I even need think about them too much in an active way because they are so core to my beliefs of how to run a label that I just stick to them naturally. I’m not worried about “the potential to rapidly grow” because, well, if the label hasn’t grown much in 20 years then I don’t think it will grow very much in the future! It’s not my desire to have a “big” label or even a label with employees. But, pay attention to #12… “Everything Will Change”…. that’s there to remind myself that while something may be relevant today it may not be tomorrow.
*At the turn of the decade it seemed that sharity blogs or people who uploaded music for free were a threat to labels. Has this time passed or has the threat been changed to the increase in postage costs?
Sadly, the threats to small labels have only increased, not gone away or lessened. There are still too many illegal sharing sites to count, I’ve simply given up. But now we’re faced with a listening public that is being raised to think that music should be free. We’re going to see a massive generational shift in this regard. Music will only get cheaper. Also, the US Postal service has made it nearly impossible to be a small business who wants to ship one-on-one to customers overseas. It’s really a terrible time to run a label, but our devoted listeners and the great artists out there keep me motivated.
*In the past you have had sub labels like .term, Happy, 12k Limited Series and Line. With the exception of Line (now owned/run by Richard Chartier) do any of these still exist or were they absorbed into the fabric and ethos of 12k?
For the sake of streamlining my daily label tasks, and for the fact that I felt that 12k could incorporate any style of music that I wanted, really, it just made more sense to fold the side tables into 12k. The limited series, however, wasn’t a “series” as much as it was just a way to make other releases outside the graphic template of “main” 12k (CD) releases. The “limited series” (I don’t call it that anymore) is just any release that’s not a templated, white-bordered main CD release. This covers all vinyl, all cassettes and any other special CD packaging.
*What are you favorite aspects of running a label? Being a label boss, mastering engineer and designer does it take away time for your own artist endeavours?
Favorite aspect of the label is definitely growing and fostering a community. Hearing the amazing music these people create and especially getting people together for recording or touring and igniting new friendships. It’s been such a joy.
Running the label and designing doesn’t take too much time away from my own musical creation, as I’ve got that down to a science. However, mastering, especially in the last 2 years, has been so demanding and busy that I’ve barely had time to work on my own music. It’s great that I’ve been so busy with mastering and all of these artists and clients find it in their budgets to choose to have their releases professionally mastered, but it does take most of my free time. I’m working to better manage it and to make sure I make the time for my own projects. I’m planning on finishing a new album by the end of this year, which would be great.
*Aside from releasing and recording music you a prodigious masterer (alongside James Plotkin, Rafael Anton Irisarri, Lawrence English and Ian Hawgood). When work comes your way you would get first chance to hear their music. Do you keep notes about artists that interest you and have any releases come from an artist who sent an earlier mastering job?
I’ve heard so much great music from being a mastering engineer, but I make a conscious point of keeping the mastering business and label businesses separate. I don’t want people to get the idea that having me master their record is somehow a way to have me hear a demo or to get an “in” to get a record released on 12k. There are artists whose music I’ve mastered that would be great on 12k, but my release schedule isn’t so big and I already have enough artists to work with that I’m not thinking too much about this idea when I’m mastering.
*Japan seems important to the label with regular tours and the fact that you have released on the Spekk label. What is the importance of this country on yourself and the label?
When I first went to Japan in 2001 I was really blown away by the people, the passion and the aesthetics of their creative culture. I immediately felt at home and inspired and was determined to go back. All of these years later and countless trips and it really is a second home to me. I just relate to it on some really important levels and feel comfortable there. I have very close friends, great musical ties and more stories and memories than one should be allowed to have in a lifetime. I became heavily inspired by their aesthetic or view called Wabi Sabi, which briefly, is the belief that imperfection is beautiful and the appreciation of natural objects that only get more beautiful as nature wears them away. These ideas started to seep into my creative inspiration around the time I wrote my album Northern and ever since have been the single most guiding philosophy of my music. I suppose that reason alone is enough to endear me to a place.
*Community, creating and fostering relationships is very integral to the label. How important is it in both the success of the label and the artists to having a great rapport and being in synch?
To me, the community and family is probably more important than selling records. I mean, in the end, do you want to have sold a lot of records, or do you want to be surrounded by wonderful people? It’s the relationships that mean more, foster learning, foster creativity, support, memories and stories. Selling records is a bonus.
*What are the qualities that you look for in a release or artist to join the label? Do you offer suggestions / constructive criticism or let the judgment of the artist decide their release?
That’s a difficult question. For one thing, I do prefer to have met the artist in person. Although this isn’t always possible. Because of the friendly/community nature of the label I’d really like everyone to get along and be like-minded. But musically, sonically, I’m just looking for something that I’m interested in at that particular time, or something that is quite different for the label, yet somehow fits in. I think two of the latest artists, M. Grig and Gareth Dickson are both perfect examples of this. Nothing on the label sounds like either of these artists, especially Gareth, yet both fit perfectly and offer something new.
Over the last few years I’ve released a lot fewer “new” artists because the roster has grown to the size that the existing artists often have records to try to fit into the schedule. Also, because sales have been difficult, physical product difficult, it’s been much more of a risk to try a new artist, which is sad, because the label was founded on these discoveries, founded on great demos from people I didn’t know. I hope there comes a time where I can take some more risks again in that way.
*Instead of choosing a favorite release from the label, what release do you wish came out on 12k?
One of the earliest releases where I felt this was with Keith Fullerton Whitman’s “Playthroughs.” That’s one album I definitely wished I could have released. It’s one of my all-time favorite electronic albums. Same goes with Solo Andata’s “Fyris Swan” which came out on the Hefty label. In fact, it was that release that made me want to release something from them. It’s an amazing, unique record. Both of these records I’ve mentioned still sound so good today.
*What does the future bring for both the label and yourself?
I think if I knew that it wouldn’t be much fun running a label! I don’t think beyond a few months, or a year tops, so I have no idea. I would like to see a solution, or progress, or an answer, to the physical vs. digital conundrum, or a listening public who prefers a more sustainable path for the artists. But, sadly, I have no control over that, so I will just continue to go with the flow… and hopefully continue to release beautiful music and carve out a little niche of peace in the world.
Twelve Principles Upon Which 12k Was Founded:
1. Don’t tell listeners what they want to hear, let them discover that for themselves. 2. Treat your audience as they are: intelligent, passionate lovers of art and sound. 3. Evolve constantly, but slowly. 4. Stay quiet, stay small. 5. Strive for timelessness. 6. Never try to be perfect. Beauty is imperfection. 7. Simplicity. Anti-Design. 8. Never try to innovate, be true to yourself, and innovation may happen. 9. Explore sound as art, as a physical phenomenon — with emotion. 10. Develop community. 11. Be spontaneous. 12. Everything will change.
album stream: Taylor Deupree - Fallen (Spekk, 2018)
Altar box with scrying mirror. Inside you get: 1 spell kit 1 gem stone 1 packet incense sticks 1 pendulum 1 answer/altar cloth 1 bottle of essential oil
Now for sale at Azralayas Art and Curiosities on Facebook!!!!!!!!!!!
Mathieu Ruhlmann & Celer - Mesoscaphe
Spekk
2008
my kat got hair all over my jeans halp.
i'm wearing black jeans, that doesn't help-
doc martins (?) got scuffed up earlier ffffffuck-
my outfit is p snazzy though. B]
Ken Ikeda - Kosame [2010; Spekk]
In the seven tracks of this album, Ken Ikeda presents studies of sound accretion and interaction, with one-word titles (such as “静寂 Seijaku | Stillness“ or “白昼 Hakuchu | Daylight”) which suggest the impulse behind each of the highly-abstract pieces. Audible surface tensions, incidental string picking, scraping, clattering, clinking, and clicks or pops from the audio capturing are the primary points of activity, occurring without steady momentum, tempo, or intensity. Despite that, the atmosphere is often relaxed, feeling unhurried and natural, but it does lead to the pieces falling out of memory rather quickly. Something more suited to background texturing than direct focus, but still rather striking in its presentation.
Taylor Deupree The Lost See (2018)
From the album: Fallen (Spekk)






