The Solo Project
1977
There were twelve swing doors between my Radiophonic studio and Maida Vale Studio 4 downstairs. I remember with such clarity because of the number of times late at night I’d struggle through them carrying the ARP synthesiser. The piano in the workshop was OK for occasional use, but I wanted my solo album with BBC records to feature the piano throughout the first side of the LP, and it had to be the Steinway. To this day, I have an uneasy relationship with fire doors, despite their obvious benefits; to me they are still the enemy.
Playing and recording such an extensive piece was a challenge, but it had to be carried out whilst composing for my ‘normal’ job.
To be honest, I can’t remember how it came about. Did I negotiate all those swing doors to make a demo for BBC Records, or were they involved earlier? The sheer exhaustion of it all seems to have obliterated some pertinent facts. Its exhaustion was made harder still by the way that I had to work in MV4. The studio was designed for rock bands. A classy control room, with the latest SSL mixing desk and a 16 track Studer recorder. The studio, accessible through yet another set of swing doors, was furnished with a Steinway, a Hammond organ, Amps, and some percussion. I was trying to record this without the help of an engineer. This was a solo endeavour. So I had to gauge how long it would take me to start the multitrack recorder, get through those double doors, leg it to the piano, put on the headphones, and try to remember what it was I was going to play in the first place. On average, I’d give myself a minute and a half to get to the piano. I recorded a short section, alternating between a couple of tracks; each time trying to improve on the previous take. In the end I’d then have the luxury of mixing the best performances from each track, and bounce them down to a third, which would become the piano master. During that period all the synths were mono, and could only play one note at a time, and it took a long time to build up a large ensemble effect, so the piano was a rich source of polyphony.
I’d decided that the piece should be allegorical. The piano represented the main character, the protagonist who stood for ‘good’. The character’s journey through the piece represents the triumph of good over evil, a journey through a landscape that was forever changing and challenging. The piece was to be called ‘In the Kingdom of Colours’.
I’d like you now to picture the scene as I tried to pitch this idea to BBC Records.
I’m invited into Mike Harding’s office. Mike has plenty of experience in bringing music to the BBC’s record buying public. His experience of ‘allegory’ however is less clear.
Opposite him now is this effete young man from a department rumoured to be elitist and full of madmen, talking about protagonists and the triumph of good over evil. It does not bode well. Mike, who’d listened to the piece and taken it at face value, was now being told it meant something and was having doubts. He resorted to changing the easiest thing first, the name. ‘In the Kingdom of Colours’ smacked of twee-ness and pretension, he wanted something more direct.
To my surprise he said, “I’ve often found that quotes from the Bible make good album titles.”
Over the next few days we exchanged Bible Quotes and settled on ‘Through a Glass Darkly’. I’m still disappointed that my original title never made it. It might have been twee and even pretentious, but it planted the idea of travelling through a landscape, which was an important part of the concept….