At some point in the next couple of months Jason Boardman's Before I Die label is going to release an album by Hawksmoor called Am I Conscious Now? and I feel fairly confident in saying it will still be around at the end of the year and beyond. There's one track from it available to listen to, Ti Kallisti, at Bandcamp- a gorgeous, low key four minutes of piano, synth, space and echo. There were ten copies of a super limited vinyl version of the album but they've all gone (obvs) but don't worry, it'll be getting a full release soon- ish.
Exploring Hawksmoor's back catalogue is a joy. In October last year a two track single originally recorded in 2012 appeared on Bandcamp. The A-side is titled Life Aboard The International Space Station, an instrumental that drifts weightlessly for four minutes, acoustic guitar and electric guitar, keys, Mellotron, some bass and a Moog pedal called the Moogerfooger. Some patterns, sequences and refrains, orbiting gently. It's lovely and in dealing with the ISS, constantly circling above us at a speed of 17, 500 mph, revolving round the earth once every ninety minutes and giving the occupants sixteen sunrises and sunsets a day, its somewhat existential too.
You can listen/ buy the single here.
The B- side has a title borrowed from J.G. Ballard, Storm Bird- Storm Dreamer, more finger picked acoustic guitar, more cyclical guitar patterns- there's something quite pastoral about it. It's a bit shy of three minutes long and I'd happily listen to a much longer version.
Ballard's story is taken from a compendium of science fiction short stories called The Disaster Area, first published in 1967. In Storm Bird- Storm Dreamer giant birds accidentally fed on new hormone fertilisers used in industrial agriculture have started attacking large animals and people. The story's main character Crispin survives a bird attack and then joins a volunteer force to defend the country against the giant birds. He develops a fascination with a woman living in a remote cottage whose husband was killed by a bird, ripped into pieces, which then flew off with their infant son. There's plenty more as you can probably imagine. What this dystopic story has to do with the tranquil, lilting Hawksmoor instrumental of the same name I'm not entirely sure.
