As I interviewed young musical prodigy Luke Saxton at his home last Wednesday night, cries of “Finish your coursework first!” and “Don’t leave it till later, do it now!” from his parents, could be heard at various points throughout the night. Luke himself, lounging slightly self-consciously on a chair, looked neutral to their comments. This is probably because he’s heard them a million times before. As a fifteen year old whose only concern is his music, school work tends to take a back seat. Evidence of how much he detests school and the education system can be found on various tracks from latest album, Big Black Car, such as the aptly named, Manor. The tracks stink of exasperation and imprisonment. Luke has the characteristics of a phoenix-like butterfly, cocooning himself in a certain style or genre of music, and then engendering yet another album before the whole cycle starts all over again. He’s like a shape shifter, shoegaze, post-punk, indie, he’s done them all. And he’s still bored. “Yeah, I reckon I’ll get bored off albums” he mumbles thoughtfully. “I’m running out of melodies anyway”. This isn’t hard to believe after listening to albums such as Crazy World, an ironic take on his not so crazy life, and newest track, Television. Strokesy to the point of criminal and with melodies that bands such as The Drums would swap an arm and a leg for, it’s hard to see where he could go next.

The album before Big Black Car was an experimental, post-punk, industrial beast, Reptile, a complete polar opposite of his earlier stuff. The second brain behind this moody monstrosity was close friend, Jamie Scott-Dyson. He’s the boy who can’t technically play any musical instruments, but manages to produce the stark, gravelly tones Reptile so proudly boasts. Although he puts a sizeable amount of work in to Luke’s music, he states confidently that even if Luke manages to become big and famous and his name gets left behind in the shadows, he won’t care. “It’s when you’ve finished a really good album and you get a really good feeling in your stomach” he says. “That’s the reason I help him make the music”.  Although Luke insists that this is in no way the beginning of a band, he is in fact already part of a group, folk meets shoegaze trio, Sombre. And after only less than six months together, he’s already bored. “It feels more natural playing with Jamie, but I don’t want that to become a band. I already have to force myself to have band practise as it is” he admits. “In the future I’ll probably have been in several other bands and been part of plenty of other side projects”. He has an ever changing musical personality and constantly needs something new and challenging to keep him interested.

This was once seen as a good thing, as he created album after album in a matter of months, but now he just wants to take things slow. “There’s no rush” he states. This is true. He’s only fifteen, yet he’s already produced more albums than many professional bands have in a life time. This relaxed attitude fits in more with his character. Calm, thoughtful, and sometimes a little slow, the saying ‘goes with the flow’ is an understatement. Much to the annoyance of Jamie. “When an album’s finished I feel like, jobs done, lets starts with the next one” he tells me. “I don’t” Luke interrupts somewhat timidly. “I feel like the jobs done, but I also feel proud of myself, like I’ve done something good. I don’t feel like that about anything else”. A shy teenager with low self-esteem, he tells me bluntly that he’s talentless at everything except his music. This isn’t helped by being the youngest of four and easily the most overlooked. “Yeah, I don’t think I’m taken seriously. It’s just like ‘Oh, Luke’s doing his music thing again’” he tells me. Critics could say this is the reason why he changes his style of music so often, as a cry for attention, but I just think he’s the sort of person who can’t sit still for too long.

And what will he do if he doesn’t make a breakthrough? “I don’t think I could work in an office. Maybe I could if I did my music when I got home, that’d be okay” he muses. “It’s all about personal fulfilment. It’s nice when people compliment my work, but it’s not that important. I don’t know if I’d like being famous anyway. I’d have to see”. This is shown on album, Big Black Car. Half of the songs are from past album, On Water, about a girl who rejected him. This fits in perfectly with his typical, stereotypical, teenage life, always turned down and never accepted. Is it this everyday life that sets him up to write a song? “Not really. I could wake up in the morning with a melody in my head. It just comes”. This is the perfect way to describe his music, as if it just comes with the rest of his bodily functions.

And where does he see himself in ten years’ time? “I don’t want to turn in to my Dad. I want to be out of York. It’s boring. I hate it. I just want to be playing my music still”. Although chilled, he has an impulsive personality and is constantly being told by his Dad that he’s going to ‘die young’. “Well, I don’t want to die an old man” he tells me.

It’s inevitable that this young man is going to go far. Not cut out to work a 9 to 5 job, and not just looking for fame as an easy route out, making music is all he knows to do. Whether he ends up as the next big thing or not, it’s clear that he’s going to be creating albums till the day he dies, however soon that is.

                                                                                          Molly Hughes

                                                                                         Dropped Music

Being a newcomer too all this reviewing malarkey, I pondered for what I could digest for a while. Friends had suggested possible new releases such as the strokes 4th LP ‘angles’ or perhaps that I rummage through the back catalogue of my cd’s for something a bit dusty. But to brush all these idiosyncrasies out the way of what I should or shouldn’t review, I’m simply going with what I can’t help but put on at any given opportunity, Which at the moment is On land.

For those of you who don’t know, On Land is an ambient album by musical innovator/genius Brian Eno. And for those of you, who don’t know Brian Eno, well…stop reading this review, sit in the corner and think about what you’ve done.
The reason I find this album so fascinating is because it just sticks out so thoroughly in his ambient series (this being the fourth) and relating to nothing previous in his discography or barely anything after.
This is mainly because on land is indisputably Eno’s darkest effort; the album where he completely disbanded any formal structure to what people pin how songs should sound. You will find very few complex melodies here, and literally nothing that emulates a strict “Verse, chorus, verse, and chorus”.

Not to say Eno’s previous ambient works featured music that heavily relied on its intricacies of melody. But what they did do was concentrate on these simple melodies, in which production or atmosphere would take somewhat of a back seat. This is what makes on land significant to anything else.
On land features deep substantiated soundscapes that echo, bounce and creak around your headphones until you could close your eyes, and with the right amount of imagination put you in the middle of a vast unknown landscape. Although I say this with no threat, due to Eno actually admitting to using natural sounds that he recorded whenever he could. Although these noises don’t often seem apparent, it is clear that some part of your subconscious is monitoring this density due to the juxtaposition of his previous works that have perfect clarity, but also include synths no different to on land.

Take a song like “unfamiliar wind” for example, it boasts no fluctuating melody that pulls you into a trance similar to discreet music’s effect. But for some reason it never remains dull, or lacking in anything. It simply loops noises of edited noise wildlife, as early drones swirl beneath like the song is hiding something from you; which only reels you into the world Eno has created more.

Despite on land being related to all his previous efforts in music, I would say this is his only one that barley clings onto anything that is music. It is a statement of its own production; engulfing you in its overwhelming heavy & layered noises. In which I wouldn’t identify on land as an album that boasts the eight  tracks that it contains, but one symphony of sound that simply spans eight topics, each tapping into a personal experience of your own, as though when one song fades to another, it is a slideshow of your experiences; one slowly fading to the next.
In fact, I can honestly think of no flaw in this album, to find a chink in the armour, I would simply have to be somewhat nostalgic. In which this brings me to my conclusion. Eno’s ambient efforts are far from easy listening and immediately have a stench of inaccessibility. In which On Land is no place to begin when looking for a way into appreciating the same prestige’s compliments I throw at it. Due to the lack of any structure or acknowledgment of lyrics, I admit it takes a while to warm to this almost completely different style to anything I personally had previously listened to before. But in time it warms, you release these atmospheres aren’t just Brian Eno holding a note on a synth, but hold a deep complexity beneath what they present from an outside view.
In which, these albums need your time, let them grow on you, and when it clicks, all that time was certainly worth it, if not…get back in your corner and start again with Here Come the Warm Jets.

Jamie Scott-Dyson

Dropped Music

An introduction video to Dropped Music’s YouTube Channel !! 

Dropped music is in need of aspiring music journalists to review albums, tracks and bands they have seen live this could give you alot of exposure to magazines or newspapers, we also need photographers and cameramen/women to film (for short periods of time) and take photos at gigs, thanks, dropped music