All performances spontaneously composed in real-time July 2nd & 3rd 2014 using Korg MS-20 mini, Volca triduum (Bass, Keys & Drums) and Monotribe analogue synthesisers with diverse FX (delays, loopers, flangers, phasers, filters, & harmonisers), Shure SM-57, Korg Kaossilator-Pro vocoder + Behringer mixer (panning / eq & reverb), recording onto an old style Zoom H4 & subsequently mastered using Sound Forge. No multi-tracking or studio assistance was used at any point in these sessions; this is very much one man adrift at the mercy of the temporal tides.

Bored with computers as a means of music production (I've been using Ableton in one form or other since 2002) my craving to get back to real knobs and old-style electronic hardware is happily typical of the current zeitgeist typified by the 2013 re-issue of the Korg MS-20 and the respective cults of Delia, Daphne and of lesser deities such as Raymond Scott who was very much to the fore whilst doing this (not least his Soothing Sounds for Baby from 1962, when I myself, born in 1961, would have been old enough to fully appreciate it...)

Whilst my idiosyncratic approach is hardly original, its entrenched traditionalism is nevertheless totally spontaneous, eschewing over-dubs for the corporeal hazards of the real-time analogue wilderness. The remit : if it works, keep it; if not, delete and start over. In this way I seek unholy communion with the vernacular glories of Popular Idiomatic Process through what is essentially a seance with The Future of things Past - i.e. the lingering mystery of those sonic realms in which my sonic heart first opened & which defines my cultural horizons & radiophonic heritage to this day.

It is also the music I make to accompany my daily constitutionals on my bicycle for the sake of body and soul. Some say it isn't 'natural', I say neither are the 5 medicaments my life is currently dependent upon, much less Sir Walter - my trusty Raleigh Pioneer hybrid that makes it all worthwhile somehow, out there watching the sun reflecting on the Irish Sea as the wheels turn in a secular mantra in praise of this particular corner of the Godless cosmos.

Sean Breadin, July 2014, amended January 2015.