MATTHEW HERBERT UNITED KINGDOM & GIBRALTAR EUROPEAN UNION MEMBERSHIP REFERENDUM BIG BAND - The State Between Us
The Brexit Big Band is an evolving organisation, so it wasn’t easy to work out who is on this recording… here are some names from the band’s website - Choir (members listed on www.brexitbigband.eu); Rahel Debebe-Dessalegne: lead vocals; Hector Oliveira: double bass; Paco Soler, Friedrich Milz: trombone; Christian Magnusson, Francisco Javier Arvevalo, Patxi Urchegui: trumpet; Carlos Sagaste Maqueda: alto saxophone; Nico Lohmann, Gustavo Diaz: tenor saxophone; Nikolaus Neuser… and others.
The suite (and I think that this could almost be regarded as a suite) begins with bird song to evoke the tranquil woodland shown on the cover, then the sound of a choir gradually increases as if it is walking towards you, perhaps signifying unity, and the piece ends with the sound of a chainsaw and a branch falling. Given the title of the album (and the name that Herbert has given his ensemble) you quickly get that this is his ‘brexit’ suite and what he seems to be exploring, more than a political position is that sense of unease that the UK is currently experiencing. When this album was in development, Herbert said, “The message from parts of the Brexit campaign was that as a nation we are better off alone. I refute that idea entirely and wanted to create a project that embodies the idea of collaboration from start to finish.” That the album launch was on 29th May 2019 is auspicious – both in terms of this being the ‘first’ day when the UK was due to leave the EU and also because we are now we in a limbo of Westminster’s making. Perhaps the falling branch that ends the opening ‘A devotion upon emergent occasions’ symbolises a break, perhaps it symbolises something lost, perhaps it is just a branch. The ominous, slow unfolding of organ and horn chords in the second track belies the title of ‘Fiesta’ and builds the uneasiness. It is probably worth noting that, according to the Brexit Big Band website, Herbert and his bandmates have ‘dismantled a Ford Fiesta into its component parts’ (presumably the piece reflects the fact that modern manufacturing involves a supply chain that spreads far beyond a single factory). This piece has a long run-out that segues into the song ‘ You’re welcome here’. This, like several pieces that Herbert has presented with his big band, has lyrics that very clearly spell out the sentiment of the piece, which is about welcoming people who are refugees from war and natural disasters.
Herbert is no stranger to wearing his heart on his sleeve, in terms of the topics that he tackles of the words that he uses to express them. This works beautifully on ‘You’re welcome here’, with the swelling strings evoking Vaughan Williams and affecting words of welcome. It works less well on ‘Feedback’, which throws back critical comments that people have posted on social media – there is a comedian called Dave Gorman makes ‘found poems’ from the comments at the bottom of online news stories, and he can see humour in the absurdity of what people say, in ‘Feedback’ the nastiness of the comments find their way into the music and the response. So, if Herbert’s intention in this two-hour suite is to accommodate all opinions, it is filtered through a very specific lens (which is probably what led to the comments to which he responds). If anything, this suite feels as if he is not trying to impose a single point of view so much as capture a sense of Britishness in all its contradictions and recent events. Across the album there recordings-in-the-wild that often characterise Herbert’s composing practice: ‘the sounds of someone swimming in the English channel, an NHS hospital, a Welsh sheep farm, a WW2 biplane, somebody walking the entirety of the Northern Irish border, an a-z of endangered animals, a trumpet being deep fried in a fish and chip shop in Grimsby…’ Yes, there is a piece called ‘Fish and Chips’, and yes, he addresses the crisis in the National Health Service (‘Where’s home’) and the tragedy of the Grenfell Tower (‘The Tower’), but there is such a mishmash of musical styles that the messages sometimes miss their mark. This captures aspects of the fleeting zeitgeist and provokes such a range of emotions that one almost ends the record with the same view that one might feel for the current state of brexit (regardless of what you voted for). But I think that there is a place for provocative music that holds a mirror up to its listeners, and if we’re living in crazy, topsy-turvy times then this is the music that we should face.
Reviewed by Chris Baber
The Brexit Big Band is an evolving organisation, so it wasn’t easy to work out who is on this recording… here are some names from the band’s website - Choir (members listed on www.brexitbigband.eu); Rahel Debebe-Dessalegne: lead vocals; Hector Oliveira: double bass; Paco Soler, Friedrich Milz: trombone; Christian Magnusson, Francisco Javier Arvevalo, Patxi Urchegui: trumpet; Carlos Sagaste Maqueda: alto saxophone; Nico Lohmann, Gustavo Diaz: tenor saxophone; Nikolaus Neuser… and others.
The suite (and I think that this could almost be regarded as a suite) begins with bird song to evoke the tranquil woodland shown on the cover, then the sound of a choir gradually increases as if it is walking towards you, perhaps signifying unity, and the piece ends with the sound of a chainsaw and a branch falling. Given the title of the album (and the name that Herbert has given his ensemble) you quickly get that this is his ‘brexit’ suite and what he seems to be exploring, more than a political position is that sense of unease that the UK is currently experiencing. When this album was in development, Herbert said, “The message from parts of the Brexit campaign was that as a nation we are better off alone. I refute that idea entirely and wanted to create a project that embodies the idea of collaboration from start to finish.” That the album launch was on 29th May 2019 is auspicious – both in terms of this being the ‘first’ day when the UK was due to leave the EU and also because we are now we in a limbo of Westminster’s making. Perhaps the falling branch that ends the opening ‘A devotion upon emergent occasions’ symbolises a break, perhaps it symbolises something lost, perhaps it is just a branch. The ominous, slow unfolding of organ and horn chords in the second track belies the title of ‘Fiesta’ and builds the uneasiness. It is probably worth noting that, according to the Brexit Big Band website, Herbert and his bandmates have ‘dismantled a Ford Fiesta into its component parts’ (presumably the piece reflects the fact that modern manufacturing involves a supply chain that spreads far beyond a single factory). This piece has a long run-out that segues into the song ‘ You’re welcome here’. This, like several pieces that Herbert has presented with his big band, has lyrics that very clearly spell out the sentiment of the piece, which is about welcoming people who are refugees from war and natural disasters.
Herbert is no stranger to wearing his heart on his sleeve, in terms of the topics that he tackles of the words that he uses to express them. This works beautifully on ‘You’re welcome here’, with the swelling strings evoking Vaughan Williams and affecting words of welcome. It works less well on ‘Feedback’, which throws back critical comments that people have posted on social media – there is a comedian called Dave Gorman makes ‘found poems’ from the comments at the bottom of online news stories, and he can see humour in the absurdity of what people say, in ‘Feedback’ the nastiness of the comments find their way into the music and the response. So, if Herbert’s intention in this two-hour suite is to accommodate all opinions, it is filtered through a very specific lens (which is probably what led to the comments to which he responds). If anything, this suite feels as if he is not trying to impose a single point of view so much as capture a sense of Britishness in all its contradictions and recent events. Across the album there recordings-in-the-wild that often characterise Herbert’s composing practice: ‘the sounds of someone swimming in the English channel, an NHS hospital, a Welsh sheep farm, a WW2 biplane, somebody walking the entirety of the Northern Irish border, an a-z of endangered animals, a trumpet being deep fried in a fish and chip shop in Grimsby…’ Yes, there is a piece called ‘Fish and Chips’, and yes, he addresses the crisis in the National Health Service (‘Where’s home’) and the tragedy of the Grenfell Tower (‘The Tower’), but there is such a mishmash of musical styles that the messages sometimes miss their mark. This captures aspects of the fleeting zeitgeist and provokes such a range of emotions that one almost ends the record with the same view that one might feel for the current state of brexit (regardless of what you voted for). But I think that there is a place for provocative music that holds a mirror up to its listeners, and if we’re living in crazy, topsy-turvy times then this is the music that we should face.
Reviewed by Chris Baber
