Goat, Sweden and psychedelic genius loci

A little off the Landscapism beaten path this one. I spent the early hours of Sunday morning with 1,500 like-minded souls crammed into an old warehouse in Liverpool’s Baltic Triangle, adjacent to the dock where 18th century whaling ships landed their cargoes, watching a pulverising performance by a modern day Scandinavian force of nature, the Swedish psych-collective, Goat.

    

Seemingly arriving out of nowhere in 2012, Goat claim to originate from a commune in a small village in remote northern Sweden with a history of voodoo and arcane pagan practice; the core members having made music together since they were children and for the last 30-40 years. On stage and in interviews the members wear masks and elaborate costumes, similar in style to the Afrofuturistic Sun Ra Arkestra, and keep their identities hidden. Now this back-story and image is clearly somewhat tongue-in-cheek, and there is a fine line between genuine and original musical and cultural fusion and cliché and novelty value. However, that Goat have so far managed to walk on the right side of this line is down to the quality of their records and mesmeric live performances: a mixture of wah-wah driven psych rock (a genre that Swedes seem to excel at), kraut-rock drone, North African inspired desert blues and hypnotic Afrobeat rhythms.

There were a number of excellent Swedish bands playing at the Liverpool Festival of Psychedelia, clearly a psychedelic genius loci is abroad along the Baltic; the enigmatic Goat will, however, remain strongest in the memory, a counterpoint to the rather bland and formulaic image that most artists and bands of note currently portray. 

  

Image from www.subpop.com

"Songs, like the grass, are evergreen": Landscape as a musical motif

The pastoral opening scene to Danny Boyle's Isles of Wonder, Olympic Opening Ceremony.

“How do you soundtrack a city? Or a nation? Is there a score to be written for this green and pleasant land of song, our forever awe-inspiring country? How do you start to summarise the very sound of a place when – in just under two hundred years – one small border town is capable of producing both Edward Elgar and Fuck Buttons? You can’t, so you don’t even try. You follow your heart and you look for the defining moments in culture, the sounds that continue to resonate...

...Two hundred years ago Goethe said that architecture was like frozen music. Well in today’s Britain the inverse is true, music is the fluid architecture all around us.

The isle is full of noises. The soundtrack writes itself.”

Rick Smith, Music Director, London 2012 Olympic Games Opening Ceremony.

Inspiring words from The Isles of Wonder soundtrack, summing up the strong and urgent relationship between music and the land and people of the British Isles: a subject matter rich in material but, perhaps, somewhat neglected compared to the analysis of landscape related art, poetry and prose. 

I have, though, a slight wariness in writing a post on the theme of landscape and music. Partly because its such a personal interconnection: people will have their own favourite soundscapes of place in their head, on the car stereo,  their i-pod or at a festival: Hubert Parry/ William Blake's Jerusalem, a traditional folk standard, psychedelic wig-out or paean to the city. And also because Rob Young's Electric Eden: Unearthing Britain's visionary music is, in my opinion, such a tour de force; the inter-weaving of folk music, landscape, culture and more through a sweeping history of "Albion's soundscape" over the last 100 years or so.

In The Making of the English Landscape WG Hoskins memorably likens England's landscape to a symphony, enjoyable as an "architectural mass of sound" but more satisfyingly appreciated if the individual themes are isolated "to see how one by one they are intricately woven together"; a suitable entry point into the relationship between music, sense of place and landscape. And a deeply rich symbiosis this is. Hardly a song lyric exists without an allusion, however hackneyed or banal, to "river deep, mountain high" topographical and morphological symbolism. The default visual motifs for classical music routinely feature scenes of pastoral magnificence to complement both the epic or more contemplative sounds inside.

In landscape: some thoughts on the best ways to get out there

There are many better ways to experience the landscape than sitting in front of a computer, and here, in no particular order, are some of my personal favourites; no doubt others will have some even better suggestions.

 In the company of children

A walk or adventure in the countryside with young ones helps to bring out the inner child in all of us - camping, poo sticks, building dens, searching for the Gruffulo. My first experience of landscape was through family walks as a kid and roaming around the local area; memories that are still vivid. I hope my children have the same.

Sleeping rough

In recent years I've been on an annual bothy trip with a group of friends, which is a great way to stay out in a remote landscape for a whole weekend, albeit with, at best, a basic level of comfort. Wild camping gives you even more license to find your own spot: in Scotland and Dartmoor you can camp on any uncultivated land and in the rest of the country, as long as you are away from habitations and livestock, just stay overnight and leave nothing behind you will generally be ok. There is plenty of good advice out there on bothies and wild camping.

A bit of danger is good for the soul

Some of the most memorable times I have experienced in the landscape have involved periods of uncertainty and a degree of anxiety: abandoning a mountain bike in a snowstorm and continuing my route on foot, lost and ploughing through thick snow in a whiteout in the Black Mountains; scrambling alone on rocks high up a mountain-side in Tierra Del Fuego to reach a glacier; and clambering along a slippery Striding Edge on Helvellyn unable to stand up due to high winds. Uncomfortable when you are in the middle of it but strangely satisfying when its over and definitely memorable. 

Localism

Getting to know your local landscape is certainly the easiest, and often one of the most satisfying, ways to engage with the environment. The majority of us live in urban areas, which are brim full of green space, woodland, historic buildings, rivers and lakes. No need to dream of that rural idyll, just step out of your front door. In my case, this is the Frome Valley and Oldbury Court in North East Bristol.

Time to study

If you can find a small area of landscape to study intimately - whether focusing on natural history, medieval field systems and settlement patterns or an abandoned industrial site - you can not only contribute in some small way to the body of knowledge and evidence of how the natural and human world work, find surprising things in the most unlikely places but also educate yourself on the world around you.

Conservation volunteering

I've worked as a conservation volunteer a number of times (as well as volunteering on archaeological digs) and I am always conscious that I should do more. Such work enables you to spend a sustained amount of time in the landscape and contribute to something tangible, personally rewarding and of benefit to wider society. BTCV, Wildlife Trusts and the Natural Trust, amongst others, all welcome volunteers.

The sunlit uplands

Any landscape has intrinsic interest but nothing stirs the soul more than getting into the hills and mountains and experiencing the ever changing weather and atmosphere that characterises upland areas; there is something elemental about this - the blood pumps harder, the senses are keener, the rain seems wetter! And there is no finer feeling than sinking a pint in a pub at the end of a long day of fell-walking, whilst your socks slowly dry out.

Using your hands

Without wishing to sound too much like a tree-hugger, a walking stick cut directly from a coppiced hazel tree is one of my favourite possessions. I'm no master-craftsman, as my rustically created bench, wood store, garden path and other efforts testify, but making something by hand using wood, stone or other natural materials links us both to our more highly-skilled and resourceful forebears and our environment in a way that many aspects of modern life shy away from or discourage. 

Festival in the sun

This is a bit of a boom time for music festivals 'out in the country' of all shapes and sizes. Whilst there is often a focus on mud and the temperamental British summer weather, drinking with friends round the camp fire and sitting in the sun listening to great music are the more common experiences - what could be better? My own personal favourites are the Green Man Festival and the End of the Road Festival, and everyone should try good old Glastonbury at least once. Or why not organise your own mini festival.

Taking it to the extreme

An adrenalin-junkie approach to the great outdoors can be tiresome and even indicate a lack of empathy with the natural rhythms of the landscape. However, reinvigorating yourself with a spot of coasteering, gorge-walking, white water rafting or mountain-biking from time to time is good for the soul. Ideally, keeping it simple without the need for expensive gear, gadgets or over-the-top lists of safety rules.

Night walking

For reasons I wont bore you with I once set off on a 15 mile circular walk around the North London/ Hertfordshire fringes late at night. It was cold and a bit eerie in parts but I was fortified by beer, had a few sleeps on the way and enjoyed the different perspective on familiar places. If its good enough for Charles Dickens, its good enough for me.

Step into the garden  

Gardens can easily be overlooked in favour of flashier landscapes. Building a pond, planting trees and generally encouraging wildlife in my modest city garden has given me as much pleasure as any of the other activities listed here. What can beat seeing frog-spawn magically appear in a pond in early Spring, a blossoming cherry tree or hearing chicks in a bird box?

Or why not just sit under a tree reading or dozing, relax, let all your senses take in the landscape around you and forget about the time...