Shy Reptiles Interview - RGM Introducing

Shy Reptiles Interview – RGM Introducing

Hiya Dave Allinson, thanks for joining us in the virtual RGM lounge today. Grab a brew and take a seat.

Thanks for joining us today. Tell us a bit about where you’re from and how you got into music?

I’m originally from Stockton-on-Tees in the North East of England. Growing up through the 60s and 70s, there was so much great music around. It was just magical, it was everywhere at that time.

If you weren’t discovering it through your mates or hanging around record stores, you’d get groups like Roxy Music, Bowie and Kate Bush appearing almost weekly on Top of the Pops.seeming out of nowhere.

I can still remember tuning into Radio Luxembourg in bed, just being able to hear the music above the waves of interference.

I got my first guitar for my sixteenth birthday and bought a book of Beatles chords to start with. There wasn’t any YouTube around in those days to learn from tutorials, so the whole thing was a bit of a mystery. If you were lucky, you’d find someone who could pass on a few guitar riffs. I made regular visits to the second-hand shops, swapping between electric and acoustic guitars over the next few years.

I didn’t actually join a band until my mid-twenties. At that time, there were only a few groups coming out of Teesside getting any national success, so there wasn’t really a path to follow, or many venues for original music. A lot of bands opted for the working men’s club circuit and played covers.

I was drawn to songwriting though, and I loved the whole process, especially when the songs came to life when the band got together.

I think our main influences at that time were groups like Talk Talk, Echo & the Bunnymen and Comsat Angels.

We got together some money to record what we considered to be our two best songs, intending to get 500 vinyl pressings made and release them ourselves. We ended up using the whole budget on the recording sessions.

We did the overnight bus trip to London and spent the day taking our cassette tapes around various record and publishing companies. I lost the bus tickets home, so we ended up seeing a few extra companies from our list.

One of them was a manager who offered to represent us in London and organised a showcase for an assembly of A&R people.

That led to a publishing deal with EMI, followed by a recording deal with Fontana.

It was a pretty strange few years really, and I don’t think we were ready for it. We released an album in 1989 and found ourselves supporting bands like The Stone Roses, Primal Scream and Spacemen 3.

Looking back now, those experiences were more valuable than I realised at the time. When the label released us due to poor record sales, though, I actually felt a sense of relief.

When something like that happens, you find it hard to fit in again for a while. I was lucky enough to be offered a place at an art college soon afterwards to do a fine art degree.

I ended up making a career as a visual artist, creating audiovisual installations, exhibitions and theatre-based performance art.

It’s only in the last three or four years that I’ve returned to writing and recording albums again.

What’s the live music scene like in Stockton-on-Tees right now?

I actually moved away about fifteen years ago and now live out in the countryside, so I’m not as close to the local scene as I once was.

Stockton has really developed a healthy musical community over recent years, thanks in no small part to the work of Tees Music Alliance and venues like The Georgian Theatre.

Anyone we should be looking out for, bar you of course?

I’m probably a little out of touch these days, but it’s been great to see Young Rebel Set back together again.

Amelia Coburn has recently supported Paul Weller, and I like the sound produced by Darlington musician Robyn Ericco.

Do you think it’s easy to become a victim of our surroundings sometimes?

I don’t know if “victim” is the word I’d use, but I definitely think our surroundings shape the work we make.

Back in the late 80s, the industrial landscape of Teesside inevitably found its way into the music. We had all grown up in a place where the skyline was silhouetted by large-scale industrial structures of various forms.

I had been a shift worker in the petrochemical industry at the estuary of the River Tees, which had its own unique, eerie, otherworldly atmosphere, especially at night. Our album cover was a stark, grainy image of cooling towers.

Moving to the countryside has changed that completely. There’s more space, literally and creatively. You can still draw on your past, but you also begin to absorb a different rhythm of life.

I think wherever you are eventually finds its way into whatever you’re creating.

What are your ambitions for the band?

The last two albums have been solo projects, although there has been some collaborating during the studio sessions.

The next step is to put together a live band and get the songs out there. I’m looking forward to seeing how they evolve once they’re being played with other musicians and in front of an audience.

What’s your favourite social media platform to use and why?

I probably use YouTube the most for learning new things about music technology and finding rare footage of bands. Then Instagram for following artists.

We believe it’s essential to have a presence on Facebook, Instagram and X to introduce yourself to all the different types of audiences out there. What are your thoughts on that?

I was a little bit in awe of the whole social media way of promoting the work at first, and definitely apprehensive.

I’m still getting used to it and learning as I go, but I do see it as a brilliant way to reach a global audience and connect with other musicians.

It’s early days, but I’m beginning to understand the way things connect together. It’s actually becoming interesting, and everything moves so quickly.

What’s your view on the music industry today?

I think it’s pretty healthy generally.

Once you’ve adjusted to the fact that you have all these options as to how and where you release your music, you can still go through the more traditional channels, or become your own form of quality control.

I find the emergence of the producer becoming more of an artist interesting, and highly influential on a lot of the music that’s around nowadays.

Finding and working with the right producer is becoming more important, and in my case it’s ended up being more of a collaborative relationship.

What are your thoughts on AI-generated music?

I looked at AI as a way of generating music and, in the space of about a week after initially being very excited about it, I found myself going through a pretty deep period of philosophical self-examination.

I was fascinated by it initially, but I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s not for me.

I found that it replaces the very processes that I find to be the most rewarding and transformative.

I think it ultimately comes down to the individual, whether they choose to use or listen to AI music. It’s going to be an interesting area to watch develop, and perhaps there’s a case for AI-generated music having its own space or platform.

What’s the biggest thing you have learned recently as you progress with your music?

The best thing I’ve learnt recently is to be open-minded and willing to collaborate.

There is so much knowledge and quality around these days. It’s not difficult to find like-minded people and be inspired by them.

What’s currently in your ears and on rotation at the moment?

When I listen to music now, I can’t help myself from deconstructing the structure and analysing the composition.

It doesn’t stop me from enjoying or being moved by it in any way though. If anything, it’s a richer experience all round.

Lately I tend to listen to bands that I missed out on at the time when I moved away from music, like UNKLE, Massive Attack and Underworld.

When I was working with contemporary dance, I got introduced to a whole world of mostly instrumental artists. Soundtrack composers like Jóhann Jóhannsson and Max Richter, and artists working more in the electronica field, like Max Cooper, Four Tet and Bonobo.

For deep listening, I always find myself returning to Mark Hollis and Talk Talk though. The later work is timeless.

What was your worst experience on stage? Any funny stories to share?

Nothing particularly drastic as far as stage experiences go, just the usual character-building support act treatment.

Half the volume of the main act. Amps turned off. A pint of beer poured over our soundman’s head from the balcony while he was doing the mixing.

Got any fun or funny stories from life on the road?

I just used to love the surreal atmospheres of service stations through the night, and the dark humour and practical jokes that were part of that time.

We had a Gibson 335 and our roadie loved it. He was an absolute guitar fanatic.

It seems pretty cruel now, but we set up a wooden pallet for him to reverse over. He was absolutely gutted when he heard the crushing sound and we told him it was the 335.

Even after all these years, he told me he still has nightmares about it

I hear you have new music. What can you tell us about it?

I’ve just finished my second album in three years, In the Ashes of a Dream.

There’s a definite progression from the previous album, The Field, which was more guitar-based and song-structured.

This time I’ve brought more of a sense of narrative into the music, intentionally drawing on some of my experiences in visual art.

I feel there’s a more expanded sense of drama and a fusion of styles, and the production has also become more cinematic and immersive.

I started collaborating with a brilliant opera singer during the COVID period of isolation. We got into a way of working where she would translate the lyrics into Italian and improvise on the original melody I sent her.

It was all done online and, although not everything worked out, when it did it was fantastic.

I’ve ended up using some of those recordings on a couple of the tracks on the album.

There’s a fusion that transitions somewhere between progressive house and world music, but overall I would say the album still retains an indie rock spirit.

What was the recording process like?

I found the recording process to be very refreshing and inspiring. Past experiences had sometimes been frustrating.

The first album, completed in 1989, was a bit patched up, with mixes and recordings from various sessions making up the album.

Luckily, this time I made a good choice of studio to take my demos to. It was a great atmosphere from the start at Beckview Studios in Scarborough, and the owner, Chris Jones, ended up producing both albums.

I recorded most of the vocals in the studio and the instruments at home.

The exciting part for me was hearing the tracks develop and build up from the individual stems on the day. Each of the tracks was mixed in one day.

I much prefer the collaborative relationship and unique atmosphere of a studio environment to trying to take a track to completion myself.

Would you change anything now it’s finished?

I’m very happy with both albums. I feel that working within the framework of a self-funded budget, you have both the freedom and also the right amount of pressure to work under.

I think we captured what we set out to do.

Is there anything else you would like to share with the world?

I think I’ll see how this goes first.

Cheers

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Cheif