8th March 2013



The KVB: the name cleverly suggests a cloistered faction, the kind who meets in the dead of night, an operation as powerful and covert as the former Russian secret police. That narrative befits the dangerous allure of the music namesake founder Klaus Von Barrel and Kat Day make: a perfect storm of guitars and synths that fuses the force of industrial shoegaze with a minimalist mind and cinematic heart. It’s the kind of psychologically suggestive sound that miraculously converges electronic and rock diehards and Kenneth Anger enthusiasts, lurching them into hardcore hypnosis. Legendary sci-fi punks Ike Yard are remixing The KVB’s ‘Into The Night’ (and Klaus and Kat are returning the favor), while Downwards techno titan Regis has already released an early KVB EP and just remixed ‘Dayzed’ — exciting developments for a young band who literally just released their oneiric debut album, Immaterial Visions on Minimal Wave sister label, Cititrax. Nightvision, long-time KVB enthusiasts, invited Mr. Von Barrel to converse about the band’s newly evolved setup, the horrifying prospect of Current 93 shirts at Topshop, and The KVB’s fondness for synaesthesia — it all relates back to the German philosophical idea of ego tunnels. Also, check out their wholly immersive ‘Reflecting Grey’ Nightvision mix here, and below.

What sort of musical experiences lead to you wanting to create your own project, The KVB?
I had been playing guitar in a couple of other bands and doing some other solo stuff for a while before the KVB and I wanted to make something more based around synths and drum machines. Although, it didn’t take long before I got guitars involved with this project, as well and started to bring in other influences. I just wanted to keep the song writing and production simple and the instrumentation minimal, but also noisy at the same time!

What is the typical creative process behind a KVB track? Do the percussive elements or melodies materialize first?
Most of the songs tend to start around the percussion first, and then I build the rest around a melody, a bassline or a chord progression. I’ve always enjoyed the process of layering songs with different melodies that work well against each other.

What attracts you to a sound?
It’s hard to explain what attracts me to a sound. I do feel sometimes like the music I make is already written and trapped somewhere inside my head and I just need to find the right way to release it.

The KVB sounds like touching _____.

imageIdeally, where is your mind when you are writing/recording?
I’m usually alone with little distractions, so I’m pretty focused on what I’m doing. I do most of my writing and recording at night, that also helps me to get in the creative mood.

How did the permanent addition of Kat to The KVB evolve your sound and setup?
It changed the KVB from a ‘bedroom’ solo recording project into a live, touring band. Being an artist she has brought a new perspective to the visual side of things, which has definitely helped us evolve, as well as a new influence over the musical direction and on the recordings, too.


What’s the most surprising evolution of your project since 2010?
I think its that we’ve been able to take the project all over the world and play packed out shows to people, and also that we’ve been able to keep up a prolific recording output since 2010. Back when I started this project, I didn’t have any thoughts of where it might lead, or if anyone would even get to hear it!

Are you drawn to esoteric/hermetic writings or art? Some of your titles (The Black Sun etc.) seemingly deal with subject matter hinting at that spectrum.
No, I wouldn’t say we are particularly drawn to that type of literature or art - ‘The Black Sun’ was definitely a slight nod towards that side — along with the Kenneth Anger inspired cover — although I think there has always been a broad range of reference points in the lyrics and titles and this is something that’s always developing.

We share an interest in post-industrial bands like Coil, Current 93, Death in June etc - dark, historically-fascinated bands often misunderstood/miscategorized by traditional music audiences. Do you feel these acts emblemize one of the few true subcultures left?
Yeah, I think they do — it’s a still subculture that is largely made up of genuine music lovers and real alternative people. This could always change though, if Current 93 t-shirts start appearing in high street shops!

THE KVB - SHADOWS from Kat Day. on Vimeo.

'Immaterial Visions' is a great album title that suggests a sense of surreality and synaesthesia. Is that blurring of reality and subconscious crucial to experiencing the KVB?
Absolutely, it’s something we try to convey in our visuals. However, we are also really interested not only in the subconscious, but also in concepts of consciousness and how our perception of reality is constantly mediated by layers of screens, our limited sensory organs and as Thomas Metzinger describes it, our ‘ego tunnel’.

What visual elements do you consider important when presenting your music?
Mainly haptic, abstract imagery which provokes a bodily reaction and immerses the viewer.

What was the first artwork that forever changed your worldview?
I think ‘Forever Changes’ by Love was the first thing that changed my world view; the way Arthur Lee wrote those lyrics (wrongly) envisioning that they were going to be his last and that the world was about to end for him at any point. Paranoid, but beautiful.

Who are some visual artists you consider kindred spirits to what you’re doing sonically?
We’d have to say artists like James Richards, Rose Kallal Mark Aerial Waller, Susan Hiller, Tauba Auerbach, Sara Ludy and Stephen Sutcliffe are our kindred spirits visually.


Your record is out on Cititrax - Veronica Vasicka’s contemporary-leaning label. How do you see the KVB relating to the Minimal Wave legacy, in sound and style?
I’d like to think that we continue the legacy of the original ‘Minimal Wave’ artists in our aesthetic and in our slightly DIY approach to recording music, so far.

On a final note, what city has fascinated you most — and how did it take you in?
Hmm, there are lots of cities that are fascinating to me and we are lucky enough to have been to lots of them in the last year or so: Los Angeles, Athens, Berlin, Brussels, San Francisco, and Budapest are fascinating for different reasons. I still find London a very fascinating place, it’s history and its present.


23rd January 2013



The sounds of the club, from the gutter beneath: that’s Nochexxx, lurking, half-hidden, surveying civilians in their midnight play. An ally of the night, a stealth player equipped with analog armor, he has emerged above the surface. For almost four years, he has remained one of the UK’s most shadowy synthesists, revealing very little in his wake but a series of excellent EPs and collaborations, ranging from earlier, disjointed rap-vs-video-game-techno showdowns to looming Sputnik funk. It’s not easy or appropriate to pin the Nochexxx sound down, nor should it be. The man behind the ‘psychotronics’ of it all is even more elusive - so naturally we were drawn to one another’s lunar-lit projects like two unholy moths. Nochexxx and Nightvision delve undercover together to bond over late-nite Bloody Marys, aesthetic agony, sudden legal migraines, and his upcoming debut LP. Plus, check out his warped, brittle and cathartic ‘Guided Subways’ Nightvision mix here, and also below.

What does Nochexxx mean?

At first it was meant as a joke, creating faux hip-hop personas. but also that hip-hop thing of taking a brand, and claiming it as your own. Also, i thought it was funny that Nochex (at least to my mind) was a failed electronic payment system - no where near as successful as Paypal. The irony of it, being a electronic musician and never getting paid! Then, I added another two X’s added and created in this super ego.

Speaking of which, I went to your website - what’s the deal with Nochex vs Nochexxx?? Are you planning to do anything about it?

I received a ‘take down’ letter for trademark infringement. My legal team advised me to delve into the black arts and unleash the hounds of Cthulhu. I’ve placed a ChexxxHexxx, so we’ll see where the storm takes us.

Do you have an update on your Nochexxx full-length LP? When can we expect it?

Yeah, the record is called THRUSTERS - out this spring on Vinyl Gatefold/ CD alongside an animated movie by Plastic Horse (the same amazing animators who created the ‘Charro’ video). The record is comprised of my favourite ‘GTO’ tracks i.e. dubplates I’ve spun out over the last 3 years.

What attracts you to a sound?

The ‘scratch and sniff’ economy of noise.

How do you feel when you listen to your own music?

The phantom appears and scribbles over the illusion, mocking me at every turn. [Laughs.] The creative process is one of pain/suffering/sacrifice, so being my biggest critic, the shortfalls always reveal themselves.


Why do you prefer analogue equipment for your recordings?

I love lots of computer music, but I don’t have the head to produce on a DAW. It’s great hearing Holly Herndon championing the use of laptops, but I’m not sure I would ever be part of the revival.  I love the fragility of analogue tech. And it’s incredibly warm! I’ve heard producers say you can make digital sound just as cosy, but I’ve never figured that out. To my ears, digital sounds different - it serves as a useful counter balance to analogue sounds.      

Are there any dream  machines you are swooning over/want to experiment with?

Labcoat, beards and socks with sandals aside, I would really like to have a go at modular synthesis.  But I’m afraid of the endless possibilities and the paralysis effect that comes with having so many options.

Do you work in long, deliberate sessions or feverish impromptu bursts? What role does discipline play in creating your music?

Less discipline, more maniacal obsession!  Long hours would be a luxury *sigh* but I have a day job to contend with, so ‘feverish bursts’ it is! Although due to listening fatigue, distance is necessary.

What headspace are you in when you record? It’s different each time, but ideally I’m being sucked into a vortex. I try to control the controllables, but inevitably they become uncontrollable.

What is the ideal way you imagine/anticipate your listeners to experience your music?

If I secure any singular moment of complete focus, disorientation or wild naked abandonment, then that’s great!   

How did your geography influence your musical learning?

During the early 90s I was living in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia„ so some things got missed. Obvious LPs didn’t make it over. Hard to pinpoint exactly what drives you but K.L. was my first introduction into grassroots independent scenes - DIY etc. Big metal scene, underground as well. Was kinda crazy, ‘cos in certain areas, the poorer shopping districts, you could find ‘jam’ studios’, which you could rent out for a couple of hours. So, as a teenage reprobate I used to go every week and hire an hour, and jam with mates. Inevitably, you’d end up meeting other bands.

What was the first thing you ever read that changed your life and views?

Wendelle C. Stevens UFO Contact from the Pleiades.


What/who was on your wall as a teenager?

Cut-ups of Tom Penny

How has the Internet fueled or challenged your creativity?

It’s probably improved and harmed my life in equal measure. I’ve discovered tons of great shit. It’s often a major distraction tho. I tend to live by intuition, and when you have a bulk of intuitives hitting you at the same time, well, it’s unmanageable!

How much attention do you pay to contemporary music culture? Is it important to you to be ‘in the know’?

I’ll always keep an eye out there and see what new releases I’m feeling. There’s always a bit of glint to be found in a sea of muck. It’s really important to research the past, and draw connections between musical forms. Figure out, and listen to the proto records that shaped the music of today, and don’t always be duped by history books! Lots of great art can be developed outside the margins of culture tho.

What do you hate?

Hatas. I was just thinking today how funny it would be if all the people on Youtube who clicked ‘dislike’ were allocated their own planet. That would be very funny.

Based on what they dislike?

I realise I’m being harsh, but there’s a lot of wonderful stuff on Youtube. Most of it loved by common decent people, and then there will be like 2 out of a million who insist on spreading their negativity.

Someone has to be the prick - always.

They tend to have a voice. In the UK, we have a program called Points of View which is just people writing inane letters to the BBC. i also hate the term UK bass.

I guess I respect anyone who takes the effort to write a letter these days vs the passive ‘thumbs down’ approach.


Not to say there’s not plenty of haters more than happy to vocalize their ire.

Sometimes it’s very warranted. my dad recently told me that he’s been hounded for the last 4 years by the TV licensing people. he doesn’t have a TV, and has letters sent every month basically calling him a criminal. I told him he should write a letter [laughs].


Is a strong visual important to your overall identity (even though you yourself are shrouded in mystery as an artist)?

I’m a total control freak - therefore I’ve been largely responsible for my own designs. But recently I’ve been working with other artists, and have been  fortunate to find kindred spirits like Plastic Horse. Painting me as this Joe Spinell a la Maniac type figure in THRUSTERS (THE MOVIE) is genius. Also,  props to 2nd Fade and Daniel Ward - both have created wicked covers for my last two CHXFX tapes!

Do you have any plans to do music videos?

I’ll occasionally throw up the odd bit of Youtube detritus, but I’m weary of becoming too caught up in all the self promo work.    

Anonymity and/or a remote appearance is fairly common in electronic music. Why do you think in this genre specifically do artists favor this approach - and do you relate your own reasons to that legacy?

It’s difficult to nail this question down in a couple of sentences. There are lots of electronic artists who quite happily ‘out’ themselves. Personally, I’m very camera shy! I’ve always held the view I shouldn’t put my ego in front of the speaker - there’s nothing new in that, it’s the same Detroit Techno philosophy you read over and over.  Plus, I think having photos of myself everywhere undoes the alchemy. I like performance art et al, but it’s not for me. It’s a real shame many artists have to rely on gigs for their bread and butter. Some days I’d rather not represent my own music.    

Electronic music also is a great tabula rasa to build ideological platforms upon. To me, your music hints at broader ideas, a personal/social manifesto, a hidden world. What universe is Nochexxx coming from?

As I said, it started off as a joke persona, and good jokes are always serious! Ha. In a world that is set up to destroy creativity, Nochexxx is my god-given right to combat the dictators and exercise my rights to never grow up. I’m exploring the inner freak and being ‘the driver’ in a parallel universe.  Formative causation is self perpetuating, and the script is now writing itself, rah!  


What have you learned about your own creative process over the years?

It gets harder.

What is a lesson you wish you’d learned sooner?

To be yourself.

Who is someone who has surprised you in person?

Gaeoudjiparl always blows my mind.

What will you be focusing on in 2013?

More psychotronics - some self released records. Let’s see what happens!


All art courtesy of Plastic Horse.

15th January 2013


By believing passionately in something that still does not exist, we create it. The nonexistent is whatever we have not sufficiently desired. - Kafka.

We are here to crush a lingering assumption that electronica is more a science than art, an aesthetic form for cyborg souls who don’t crave fantasy, escape, fever dreams of their own. It’s a stale way to experience music of any kind, and a boring way to live. Thank God for Moon Wiring Club: progenitors of ‘Confusing English Electronic Music’ and magpies who have straddled ambient, musique concrète and hip-hop universes to coax to life a ghostly swagger all their own. Often roped into what is conveniently bundled as a ‘hauntology movement’ - essentially half-century old library music reanimated by contemporary producers into murky melodic vapors - MWC is actually more of a kind of glamour-conscious pop theatre act.

To understand this, you need to let your mind drift to Clinksell - the fictional timeless, unplottable town created by Moon Wiring Club founder Ian Hodgson (and despite what many think, from penmanship to production, he is the sole creator of all things MWC) - and the slightly sinister, illustrated characters who inhabit it. Foxes, owls, cats, and woodland creatures of all varieties - along with an unsavory Clue-worthy human cast who possess unknowable but seemingly psychic powers -predominate the surreal storylines that reify all six Moon Wiring Club albums. There’s surely enough narrative content by now for Hodgson to produce a wickedly inventive and twisted children’s movie - and we don’t put it past him - but as of now, he can safely be considered England’s most imaginatively visualized electronic act. If Lewis Carroll or Arthur Rackham art directed a deconstructed Drake record, which was then mashed up with old British film dialogue and put on a Luella runway - that’s an approximation of what the Moon Wiring Club experience looks, sounds, and feels like. If you don’t find that fascinating, we don’t understand.

Nightvision conducted an overseas ‘aye-dialogue’ with Hodgson to discuss the decidedly more introspective ‘Today Bread, Tomorrow Secrets’ record, the gist of the MWC paradox, and the importance of keeping a secret. Also, be sure to check out the brilliant 90s electronic mix Hodgon crafted for us (eloquently put into context here), streamable below.

About a year ago, you were very interested in field recordings and electroacoustic music, and artists like Maggi Payne and Charles Amirkhanian - and mentioned taking the next Moon Wiring Club record in that direction. What drew you to that aesthetic?

I liked the idea of an immersive, environmental experience. I really enjoyed Chris Watson’s El Tren Fantasma record a lot. It stands apart from a lot of things released in that vein recently. I can’t pretend I can achieve the sound quality created by the high specification recording equipment he uses, but there was something there in that record that felt relevant to MWC. I learned a lot from my field recording adventure; it improved my compositions. The new album is a lot clearer in places; there’s still a knackered quality, but it’s more defined if you listen carefully. Who knows what other people will hear, though! They may think it sounds like ‘album #6’.

‘Today Bread, Tomorrow Secrets’ is blatantly less of a party record than Clutch It Like A Gonk was. It’s focused, pensive, meditative.

Yes! This is true. On the last record, there were certain tracks that maybe stood out more indvidually. With this one, it’s more like an hour-long soundscape. When you listen to it more, though, certain nuances emerge from the ether. The sequencing on this one was really important, in terms of building a real environment and mood.

Do you think it’s a deliberate rebuttal to Gonk’s poppier elements? Gonk definitely reflected what I was listening to last year, which was mainly cheesy pop that I loved — along with some very, unapologetically dark material. Nothing wrong with that. I wanted something high-energy and catchy but also unnerving. I think it did meet that goal, and I’m really proud of Gonk, but it was also a mad rush to get it done. With Today, I definitely wanted to slow things down and let it develop on its own accord. Plus, it’s all different time signatures; a lot less 130pm, ‘let’s do a crazy uptempo number here’. It ended up being more somber, but hopefully there’s something to commend in that.

Could it also be a reaction to the fact that pop itself is in an unmistakable rut now? On ‘Always a Party’, you were envisioning the nightmare of being trapped in a club, forced to party. It’s happened!

That definitely was on my mind about eighteen months ago. It does seems like it’s reached a saturation point. Last year, there were certainly cheesy, over-the-top party tunes I enjoyed; this year, the aesthetic was still rampant but far less clever, and I enjoyed it a lot less. It seems everyone’s kind of bored with it, too. There’s a mass malaise.

Every Moon Wiring Club album seems to materialize from nowhere. One autumn evening, there’s a pre-order link, then a teaser video, then the record goes straight into the mailbox of fans, just like magic.

My most hardcore fans will buy MWC records on pre-order without even hearing it. And that’s an experience you don’t see so much these days. I’d remember reading when Autechre’s ‘Amber’ came out; maybe there’d be one track played on a late night show, and you’d rush to record it. And you’d play it over and over and over. Then there’d be a review of the record that revealed certain information, but you still had no idea what it sounded like. Then you’d finally buy it and play it, and in that album’s case, you’d go, ‘Wow, it’s even better than I hoped; it’s amazing.’ You don’t really get that now. The only way to get something close to that is to release the album without telling everyone. I mean, my press releases are literally nonsense, which isn’t very helpful to the press, I suppose!

What is the most popular MWC release format?

It’s impossible to gauge because before I did vinyl, I had a reasonable amount of people going, ‘Oh, do you not do vinyl? Should do vinyl. Vinyl, vinyl, vinyl.’ So then, I did release on vinyl, and the emails started coming in, ‘Is this not available on CD?’ My idea for the ultimate format would be to do a laser disc. Remember those? I have about 22 hours of unreleased music, and I’d release it all on laser disc so that no one could play it. Or, I’d release it all as one track!

It’s actually a great spoof on those who collect vinyl specifically as aesthetic trophies, never to be played or enjoyed.

Well, I collect vinyl and find it attractive, of course. But it does seem a bit odd for that to come first - I mean, it’s meant to be played; there’s a real warmth to it that you don’t necessarily get any other way. Such is the conundrum for the modern listener!

Moon Wiring Club is often thrown in the ‘hauntology’ or, rather, ‘h-word’ spectrum. Do you remember how that started?

Well, the first time anyone heard about what I did was through Myspace; I connected with [Belbury Poly’s] Jim Jupp and [The Advisory Circle’s] Jon Brooks on there. I put some of my early stuff up on my page, and they really supported it. It was really encouraging for me to take it further; then when I made my first record, An Audience of Art Deco Eyes, they kindly put it on the Ghost Box mailout. So, of course, the context people first learnt about me in was in the vein of hauntology. And my identity was revealed; my cover was blown!

How did you feel about the hauntological connotation at the time?

When I read the first hauntology piece Simon Reynolds wrote for The Wire in 2006- people making music sampled from old charity shop records - I was going, ‘hmm’. When ‘h-pop’ (hypnagogic pop) was heralded by David Keenan the next thing, suddenly 40 or 50 acts popped up operating within that so-called genre. But with hauntology, there were, well,…the Ghostbox artists, me, and retroactively, The Caretaker, who had been doing it way before anyone. And years later, it’s still basically that core group of artists. But to make a ‘hauntology’ record, you probably need to have a long-standing - 20 to 30 year - obsession with British telly and the desire to make music. I’m not sure a lot of people possess both those traits.

It’s pretty specific.

In my case, it’s slightly knackered beats and British vocal samples. You would need to be a weird obsessive collector of British TV and also have grown up on hip-hop and jungle records that sample film dialogue; I don’t know if that’s really something everyone would do. I’m not saying I’m a unique special flower! I’m saying, why would you bother?

Well, it also means you can’t really fake it.

Witch House - whatever it was or whatever it still is - has done some interesting things in a similar regard. The difference is you could go on Youtube and go, ‘Right, some Pat Benatar, slow it down, reverse it, there you go.’

The signature MWC sound is even more specific, probably because it’s so closely tied to its process and origins: the Playstation. How did that even happen?

I always wanted to do music. But at the time, around 2001, with something like Cubase, I found it too difficult to figure out what I wanted to use it for. However, I’d also played a lot of computer games; I still do. There’s a game you can get for Playstation 2 called MTV Music Generator; the memory capacity is extremely short, so I gave up with it very quickly - at first. I wanted 6 minute tracks. But I played around with it over time and learnt how to take its shortcomings and manipulate them into beat tracks. Because it was a game - because it was not software - it was alluring, and I kept at it. If you’re obsessive with a computer game, you can train yourself to do things very fast, it’s ridiculous! I eventually became adept at it and loaded my own samples into it and started to use it my own way to create really awful, naff music that no one will ever hear. But that was the beginning.

At what point did you realize you were making a form of strange mongrel pop?

I don’t know, I began to realize I was good at giving atmosphere to things. A default creepy, decrepit vibe became apparent in my compositions. The idea behind the aesthetic, I think, is really strong. The mechanics and production of it is what it is; it has limitations but I enjoy the challenge of working around them. Over time, I have figured out arrangement a lot better and how to construct better beat tracks. On an earlier track, I might have done a kick-snare-kick-snare, but now I might say, ‘Right, let’s mix this kick sample with a heavier, pitched down, less organic sound - a drum machine sound.’ So you have a mixed kick drum, which has more weight to it. I like the Brian Eno notion of learning one instrument extremely well and making it work for you rather than trying to master everything and failing to master any. Over time, I’ve evolved my methods.

Yet the urge to experiment beyond them is clearly there.

If you listen to a contemporary hip-hop track, a MWC beat track will still sound brittle in comparison. That’s not going to change and it can be frustrating. This is one of the reasons I want to shake things up in the future. This is why I’d like to work with a vocalist.

What would happen if a female arrived and crashed the party of the male-centric ‘hauntology’ universe?

Put it this way: I am waiting for a female to corrupt me!

When did your illustrations of women - and Clinkskell - become a key component of the MWC universe?

After university, I started writing and illustrating a graphic novel. It was sort of a children’s book, but one that adults would find entertaining. I started to have a vision of vaguely aristocratic women dominating the stories; nothing kinky or salacious, more regal, impressive, and full of secrets - and to present that as a normality. I liked the idea of children’s entertainment, because you are forced to handle difficult things in a more considered way. You’d sometimes get these very strange, very clever moments within children’s books and TV programmes, where they’d have to figure out how to delicately address sensitive topics. It can lead to moments of true peculiarity. I will always find that more interesting than things being directly dark. I ended up abandoning the novel but keeping the idea of the women alive. They all became characters that are now part of the story of the music. I wanted people to wonder who the women were. I just wanted to present electronic music in a different context than people were used to; for there to be a glamour and mystery to it.

I always think it’s a shame there’s not more of that sense of wonder and enigma in otherwise excellent electronic music. And I don’t mean men hiding behind humanoid masks.

Well, I watch a lot of visual-heavy cinema, a lot of costume drama. In novels, in film, there’s a yearning to the characters. You want to know more about them. In electronic music, you get a lot of things, but not that, really; it’s often set along one line. I wanted to create a world for the music. At the end of the day, I tend to always wind up thinking: ‘This would be better if a woman was in charge of it.’

Part of what I found interesting about Moon Wiring Club was the strong female energy I detected within its presentation. I immediately felt that all the women on the album covers had magical powers.

Exactly. Another reason I wanted to portray a positive female image in control is that when you’re tied in with the darker side of things, you have horror film connotations, and as you’re well aware, horror films generally have a pretty dodgy view as ‘women=victim’. Without making a big statement or anything, I wanted to just have a strong female character type presented. The women on each of the covers represent characters that you’d meet if you’d like to ‘play’ the story, i.e. buy the CD. But they know what’s going on, and you don’t.

Do you think it’s important for the listener to understand or at least appreciate the artwork’s intentions as they listen to the music?

I’m not going to spell it out for people, but I hope people who pay a little more attention notice how there’s a continuity to the characters and the stories of the records. It is leading somewhere. I think it’s best when left to the subconsciousness to absorb; when you’re reading a book and listening to music, for example, all kinds of connections start to take place and it makes the material more accessible on a deeper level. I remember in 2001, I was reading an H.P. Lovecraft biography and listening to Coil (again). Certain tracks and certain details became so much stronger because they were linked together. I’m interested in conjuring a similar parallel potency and resonance between music and narrative.

To me, it’s a suggestion you’re telling a story that can in fact exist outside of Moon Wiring Club, or outside of music, even.

I am working towards doing something different; it’s all early stages, though!

On that note, if Moon Wiring Club could be commissioned to do a dream external project right now, what would it be?

An immersive, interactive Edwardian MWC computer game would be interesting, where you had to find the right ingredients for sweet recipes and the hidden floor of a fancy department store. You could have a character creation mode with ridiculous levels of styling, because everything is dependent on selecting the right hat or hair colour. And of course you’d end up falling in love with a ghost. Obviously, murky rhythms and echoing voices would be incorporated, too. It’ll probably turn out that there was a 1992 Japanese-only Neo Geo game called ‘Lunar Teashop Society’ that already featured all of these elements, but I won’t let that put me off.

Stream Moon Wiring Club’s ‘Midnight In Europe’ Mix: