Why The Lone Swordsman?
This blog has been a long time in the works. I mean – the ideas were there, scrambling in my head, but then it seemed like I never really managed to bring myself to sit down, iron things out and lay down a structured approach to disseminate them. And sometimes the thoughts, the ideas and questions that pop in one’s mind are best shared either with your entourage, or at least written down somewhere. I mean how else can you manage to get a good grip on a concept that’s been nagging you, or on the insights of one’s behaviour, unless you spark a debate? Mind you, I’m not part of any book club or anything of sorts, so my intellectual endeavours most of the time are relegated to just that: mere curiosities. But I admit that the occasional craft beer tasting symposiums are good conversation starters, although the imbibing sometimes ends up in (unnecessary) fierce debates. Nevertheless, I’d like to believe that whenever that happens, our reaction is closer to Larry David’s in these situations rather than holding a grudge on the opponent. (although at times I was guilty of the latter)
But I digress. So, why The Lone Swordsman?
The answer will require a long walk down the memory lane. The Lone Swordsman is first and foremost about a certain person, a music producer who’s creations and personality have left an indelible mark on me. But I should have started by saying that DJ-ing, remixing and producing were just some things that this guy did. By all accounts – I’m talking about people who’ve met him – everyone looked at him as a much bigger presence. Spending a day with him, or reading an interview while sipping a cup of tea was an educational experience. Those folks used to leave the sessions with fire in their belly, enthusiastic, raring to go. The man couldn’t wait to tell the audience about the new record he had just heard, or the new film he had just watched, or the new book he had just read, because he wanted everyone to taste what he had just experienced. He wasn’t precious or pretentious. He wanted to share the love.
Back in the 90s I first heard his music on a cassette that kept being played back and forth and shared among me and some of my childhood friends. UK rave anthems were all the rage in my entourage; new sounds that to me were out of this world. One of those anthems was “Smokebelch II”, a 1993 piece built upon an obscure track released in ’89 by Lamont Booker, aka LB Bad. It’s a timeless piece of blissful Balearic joy that went on to be acknowledged as one of the group’s most celebrated tracks. The group’s name? “The Sabres of Paradise”* (remember this one!). The main driving force behind all this: Andrew Weatherall.
The aforementioned track received a ‘Beatless’ mix treatment, which appeared on the Sabres’ debut LP – Sabresonic; it was arguably even bigger still – featuring on countless mid-90s chill out compilations, most notably Jose Padilla’s first Café del Mar album, released in 1994.
He made so many albums with so many people under so many names, from The Asphodells to Sabres of Paradise or Two Lone Swordsmen, but it always sounded like Weatherall: the master of space, immersion and minimalism. Then there was his other persona, the intelligent, naturally bright gentleman and also very curious. He would devour information so quickly and remember it all.
To a certain degree he reminds me of Beastie Boys’ Adam Yauch, driven by same passion. (the Beastie Boys book is well worth a read not just for the casual music fan, but for any pop culture enthusiast) Alas, both of them are gone now, way, way too early and around the same age (some 50-years-plus old).
I think he was also an outsider artist in a way; he preferred being on the margins doing his own thing. When he was presented with Primal Scream’s Screamadelica first draft, he took the lead guitarist’s advice verbatim: “just fucking destroy it”. That’s how ‘Loaded” came into being basically. He was given free reign and he went for it. “Screamadelica’ went to become Primal Scream’s best album ever. And you know the interesting bit? Weatherall was a non-musician; when he took upon ‘Loaded’ it was only his second time in a recording studio. Because he wasn’t aware of the rules, he broke them. He wasn’t trying to make hit records. That never entered his mind. He just wanted to make interesting tracks that worked on the dancefloor. And lo and behold, the first time he played the record in a club, the whole place went ballistic.
A bohemian of the highest degree; he made etchings (lino-print artworks), he wrote, he read a lot. Fascinating, full or arcane information and a bit self-deprecating. By all accounts he always had a book on the go, maybe two. There was always a side of him that was deep, curious, well-read. I guess he was a classic autodidact, hungry for knowledge.
Now, if my small attempt at covering the curiosities surrounding us manages to spark even the slightest interest or debate, then I’m happy to carry on this page as a small tribute to the Guv’nor. It’s no rush, there’s no real end in sight, I’ll take things slowly, pondering if what I have to say is worth telling. For in his own words “…one needs to be patient. Digital culture sells you this theory that if you don’t get involved immediately, you’re going to be left behind. When you see an advert for broadband, it’s always got a caveman in it, because if you haven’t got the latest broadband, you’re a caveman. But if you’re making music or any art, just wait, wait six months, see if you still like it. If you release something immediately, you’re not going to be happy with it and it’s just going to be part of the digital noise.” – chuckling – “Here we are at the apex of the punk-rock dream, the democratization of art, anyone can do it, and what a double-edged sword that’s turned out to be, has it not?” – excerpt from an interview given back in 2016
If anything, ‘The Lone Swordsman’ will be an exercise in patience and balance. And then there will be something else that I hope will not wane, that is the slightly nerdy approach to wanting to share what I like. And that should ultimately lead into digressions about obscure pop culture references, utopian science fiction thinkers, cartoons, books, dry humour, music and whatnot.
Thanks for dropping by and happy reading, y'all!
*Sabres of Paradise, a short-lived British electronic group helmed by Andy Weatherall, active during 1992-1995. Shortly after the disband, he went on to form Two Lone Swordsmen. But what’s more interesting here is the band’s name: it was inspired by the same titled book, written by Lesley Blanch. The book recounts the epic life of the ‘Lion of Daghestan’, the Muslim chieftain Imam Shamyl who united the warring tribes of Daghestan and Chechnya and held at bay the invading Russian army for 25 years. And you know who else was inspired by the same epic story? No other than Frank Herbert who based his oeuvre Dune on the very same story.