Track-by-track breakdown: Misophone – A Floodplain Mind

1/ A floodplain mind 

This is a broken orchestra tuning up and failing, a nightmare of fairground hallucinations, a cubist collage of all the collaborations on the album… and probably the least ‘catchy’ way we could have started over two hours of music. 

2/ All the ghosts of evening 

An attempt at simplicity; pushing different things forward in the mix and trying to allow some space to take hold (something we find difficult).  I think it’s a true story. But it’s an old story. It’s the closest to the 80s we’ve reached sonically I think- but who knows? It’s hard to divorce yourself from these things and listen as if removed. It originally had some almost atonal wailing in the background but we thought better of it. 

3/ Heart for Hills 

The floodplain and the hills beyond are introduced in this song and are signposts that lurk throughout the album; this track was one of the first to have Chris Vibberts‘s involvement- playing a lovely bit of lap steel. He went on to add all sorts of wonderful sounds to A Floodplain Mind. He has been unbelievably generous to us in these recordings. 

4/ These days of ours 

In Misophone, we are both used to estuary waters and the floodplains of both our homes seeped into this song. It’s about time passing and some things changing whilst others stubbornly remain. Mr Vibberts brought his Khim to proceedings here as well as a bit of melodica which was something to be very happy about. 

5/ Apple

This felt like a return to early misophone in some ways; and the words are certainly old. A first for us- it features the antiquated instrument the marxophone – sounding like the theme tune to Randall and Hopkirk (deceased), something watched a great deal in our childhood. Again we have Chris to thank for this. 

6/ Joy

I wrote these words on a scrap of paper that was then thrown in the box file only to be retrieved much much later and I know they had a specific starting point but it’s one I can’t remember. I do remember the snow settling on the mountains over the water though. It’s a sad song really but I’m happy with how it turned out. 

7/ Confidence

This used to have a home recorded sample from the 1960s in it, where an elderly gentleman expounded the benefits of pursuing a confident demeanour. The song didn’t need it but the title hung around like a ghost anyway. 

8/ Voices 

This features the lovely voice of Maja Lena who we were so happy to have involved as she’s amazing. There are so many tracks layered on this one that it broke the computer when it was first mixed down. One of those is the Nyckelharpa of Lewis Jones scraping away beautifully in the background. Another kind guest that added so much. The words though are as depressing as ever! It contains a line about rats eating the vomit on my shoes. Not a Christmas morning I’m likely to forget. 

9/ Wisdom’s Winter Day 

I think this was written at a time when getting drunk in the morning seemed like a good idea. It still does sometimes. It’s probably worth noting that not all these songs are autobiographical. Some are but rarely entirely. Most are collages of reality and something else. We were really happy with the melody in this one.

10/ Apricity

Apricity means the warmth of a winter’s sun which is a pleasing thought. This has the great Tom Rocton on trombones- Tom was kind enough to record a number of musicians from his orchestra for the album. Here he leads the circus tent into the dance. Rachel Hayward lends her lovely voice to the song too. 

11/ River bed 

The words I remember took a lot of fine tuning in this song; it’s about a dwindling hope but one that isn’t totally lost. We like a song where the words don’t mirror the upbeat nature of the music, a far from original idea but one we enjoy nevertheless. 

12/ Sky 

This is a true story  too personal for me to sing. Zazil Yakín Xipé, a Mexican songwriter, kindly translated it into Spanish and recorded a spoken word piece for us. I love what she did with this song and its words. It became something more mysterious and beautiful. There’s a dubby bit of Tom’s trombone lurking somewhere submerged in the mix too. 

13/ Curse the Crows 

This features the cello playing of Noémie Akamatsu kindly arranged by Mr Rocton once more. It’s about doing things that you probably shouldn’t, but I’ve made so many mistakes in life there’s a lot to draw from. Zazil Yakín Xipé throws some trumpet in the mix too which was very kind.

14/ Sunlight 

Love and lust are complicated things. I think this is probably about that.  It’s got the man previously known as Alone With King Kong back on trombone. He has been so generous with his time and talents. We haven’t played with those Eastern European rhythms on A Floodplain Mind as much as in previous albums; this is like a half-remembered memory of those moments. 

15/ Close the Door 

This started off like a broken Country song but turned into something quite different; it features Noa Mal on vocals, Boys Age on guitars and Mr Vibberts once more, this time on sitar.  Collaborators from across the world who changed the song beyond recognition. It’s about the joy (and its opposite) of hiding from everything. We were so happy that they added their magic. Collaboration has been a real joy on this album. 

16/ Night comes early 

This is about drinking in the woods. It’s one of my favourites off the album.  It was going to have some saxophone on it by a player we really admire but it fell through in the end. Maybe next time! It’s one of the poppiest, most upbeat moments on the album; lyrically it’s about despair and imminent mental collapse- like most of them! 

17/ (Interlude) 

A European instrumental interlude. It felt needed. It probably wasn’t. 

18/ Snow 

Snow crops up a few times as an image on the album, something Peter Kane Dufault once called ‘endless inexorable cliche’ which I’ve always liked. We were so happy to have Robin Allender play guitar on this track. I used to sell him drinks a long time ago when I worked at an off-licence. He’s a lovely man and a very talented musician who’s played with some fantastic people over the years. We were so happy when he said yes! 

19/ Love lies bleeding 

This features the vocals and harp of folk artist India Blue. She wrote to us years ago asking to cover one of our songs so it was a lovely thing to have her involved in a new song. She has an approach and style that is very much her own. It took a while to get the feel of the instruments how we wanted but we got there in the end. 

20/ Ravines and rivers 

I have no memory of writing these words so it feels slightly removed and separate listening to it again. The nightmare section captured a few moments never to be repeated. More snow crops up again; it’s a song about feeling and being trapped. 

21/ Silt 

This is less a song and more a collection of sounds and noises. We wanted it to feel like something submerged in the estuary waters. I’d happily release a whole album of these sounds. I’m not sure anyone else would be happy with that though. 

22/ Monsters 

This is another song about secrets. We were pleased with the mass of sounds we were able to build in the instrumental sections. It was almost an instrumental in its own right. The opening line I unwittingly stole from a piece of fantasy fiction that must have become embedded in my mind as a child. I realised this after the album came out when I stumbled upon the dialogue.

23/ Strange and sombre 

This is set in a fictionalised past. It’s about escaping a dull existence, a claustrophobic childhood and the freedom and possibilities of going to sea. It’s ridiculous really. Like a child writing a sea shanty but it was a repeated dream I had when I was young. 

24/ It snowed today

This was a bit of a sound experiment and another spoken work piece. French actor Maxence Danet-Fauvel kindly offered his talents here. He’s been a supporter of our songs since he was a teenager. We love what he brought to the song. Again the snow appears. 

25/ The days run madly 

This one is a true story. Things aren’t always easy but there is still beauty to be found. I like that there is still hope in this song. Even if it’s slightly out of reach. Yakin crops up again with some growling and trumpet amongst other things. It’s about a pretty shit time but it helps to make something with those moments. I wrote the words while driving and had to keep repeating them over and over so I didn’t forget it. It may not have been worth the effort. 

26/ Flickering lights 

I like the simplicity of this one. Again, I have no memory of writing these words though. Some songs have lurked for almost two decades before joining together here so perhaps that’s no surprise. A lot has happened in that time and memory is becoming an increasingly unreliable thing- but I quite like that. It almost didn’t make the cut but I’m glad it did. 

27/ Yarrow 

Being in the natural world is important and the album often centres around this. This song is about being restored by the small details that surround us when we leave the urban detritus behind, if you are willing to look. Mr Vibberts is working his magic on the lap steel again on this track. It’s the most straight-forward ‘folk‘ song on the album, probably. 

28/ William and Mary 

We’ve never reworked an old traditional before. Old words somehow carry more weight. I’m not sure why- maybe it’s the number of voices that have sung them or the number of ears who’ve listened or simply the time they’ve lived free from their creator. This is the first track featuring hurdy gurdy that we’ve recorded, played brilliantly by Matthew de Roode. That made us smile. Long time collaborator Aubben Renee lends backing vocals too 

29/ The flood 

This is the song that the album was based around in many ways. It features the coming together of the duly-named ‘pocket orchestra’ arranged by Tom Rocton and is an attempt at something more ambitious. It starts off a bit shaky and unsure of itself but builds to something more. It features the combined talents of Satoko Takahashi on violins, Noémie Akamatsu on cellos, Jeremy Lussiez on bassoon, Florent Charpentier on clarinet, Loris Martinez on trumpet, Bastien Ponsart on trombones as well as Tom himself. On each song we collaborated on we tried to ensure their contributions could shine, both within the song and in the echoes after. The orchestra hangs around here after the main songs ends. It’s a special moment for us. 

30/ I bow my forehead to the hidden stone 

An experiment in spoken word, the music like an old children’s film. An odd end to what let’s face it is probably quite an odd album. 

Written by M.A Welsh (Misophone)

Music | Misophone (bandcamp.com)