Interview from Careless Talk Costs Lives #10

The first time I heard this record, I laughed. The second, I felt as though I were stuck fast in an 1980s computer game. The third, caught in a distortion of David Lynch movie pixels. The fourth, I danced around my kitchen whilst making ginger nut cookies, clutching a wooden spoon and tapping out rhythms on the side of any available mixing bowl. And the fifth? Well, I came to the conclusion that any music that can have those many effects upon me must, indeed, be genius.

It does take genius to make up tunes like this on a fifteen year old Amiga- sparsely armed with just a cheap sound card and the most primitive of software. It certainly takes genius to use such a limited range of equipment without becoming a one trick pony. Far from it, this is one of the most inventive and intoxicating electronic creations I have ever danced around the kitchen to.

The Guy Who Invented Fire is the project of Cambridge bound Jimmy Possession, and has remained a one man show for the last two years: "Working on my own gives me complete control over what I’m doing. When you are on your own, you rule the roost. I have collaborated with other people, but that has always involved just sending CDs back and forth. It’s never an in-the-same-room-and-arguing-over-the-bass-drum collaboration."

The Guy Who Invented Fire EP ‘I Didn’t Get Where I Am Today’ is a hybrid of fucked up, sucked in, computerised simplicity and sharp eyed humour. The opening track ‘Glow’ is a glorious density of sly, prowling bass-reps and swallowing, monotonous keyboards. It feels as though you are trapped in a cheaply shot spy movie, watching the action unfold as you pull a felt cap over your eyes and lick the tip of an expensive cigar. This unravels into ‘Pretty Girl’, a mumble of odd clicks and a husky drum beats, set underneath an amusingly middle class Watch With Mother type conversation about speaker hi-fi set ups: "I am in the right hand speaker. With a metronome and a very pretty girl."

The record develops thus: the most uncomplicated of samples moving against each other to create tight, complex instrumental gamescapes. "I value simplicity above absolutely everything else. For me, music is about spontaneity. I want to capture the moment when a track clicks for me, so that when people listen to it, they get the same reaction. You can’t be spontaneous when you have spent a week editing a drum loop, so simplicity is the key. When I create a sound I like, I finish it up really quickly so that the moment is preserved."

At times, the sounds itching beneath the songs sound like claws scraping the edge of an anxious migraine. At others, it feels like tugging on a robots heartstrings. And, just occasionally, it’s like being kidnapped and tied up at an underage drum and bass night full of ghastly looking teenagers. Yet it works so well.

"Sometimes technical glitches can turn out to provide the most amazing sounds. That’s the beauty of the computer. You only have to be able to do something once, then you can use it as much as you like. It’s so easy to make sounds on the computer. The real trick of making good computer music is choosing which of those sounds to use."

The most extreme (and hilarious) reaction came when I played the record for the sixth time. I picked up the phone, to expose the high pitched voice of a friend who broke off her stream of conversation to scold: "What’s that god awful racket you’re playing in the background? It sounds like a child stuck in a washing machine! It sounds like a broken, evil toy! Is it meant to sound like that?"

You see, like all the most interesting music, you either get it or you just don’t. But trust me. This the super cool sound for the uncool kids. It’s catchy, crafty, downright clever…..and….well, a swift kick in the teeth for electronic music.

(Mia Clarke)