Folkestone based composer Pete Warren is a prolific purveyor of outsider art. Outside day jobs that have including being on the team that brought the BBC Radiophonic Workshop to an online resource, he finds the time to create deep, rich industrial soundscapes, which fall neatly between the worlds of cabaret Voltaire, Boards Of Canada and maybe Pye Corner Audio. We're stoked to have limited copies of the cassette in the store!
Reviews/comments from previous Ghost Station album release:
“The synths are charged, loose with the scorching smell of burning electricity and the dirt of the ages.” — A Closer Listen
"When you blend nutritious Vangelis synth, Robert Rich ambience, and cyberpunk elevator muzak, you get what William Gibson must have been shooting for when he wrote Neuromancer." – Vice Magazine (Au), Vol. 11 No. 10
"Definitely a brilliant and promising debut effort which needs our full encouragements. A great discovery, warmly recommended." – Igloo Magazine
“Some really nice sounds in this” — Stephen Mallinder, Cabaret Voltaire
The second album of Tube-inflected ‘Underground’ works sees London-based electronic music producer Pete Warren finding asylum and inspiration in the dark empty spaces between people and machinery.
“I was inspired to make a second album entirely on journeys on the London Underground’s Central Line between Mile End and White City.
Around this time I discovered a disused medieval church outside the city and began visiting it on the weekends. I liked its atmospheric acoustics.
I especially liked the emptiness, when I could sit on my own and think straight. Away from the clamour of the everyday life, the church hummed and crackled with spiritual electricity.
Back in the real world, Central Line trains transported me to work and back. Accidentally, I found myself travelling odd hours. The first train. The last train. I became an inhabitant of the quieter interzones between rush hours.
Underground stations, like medieval churches, possess atmospheric acoustics and architecture. Between the roar of the trains and the scrum of commuters, unusual sounds reverberate from the gloom and move to the fore: unnerving metallic groans, reflections of distant voices, subsonic rumbles from the deep, the screech of an escalator, the moan of the subterranean wind.
Experiencing these eerie off-kilter moments reminded me of the stories I’d read about apparitions manifesting themselves in old Tube tunnels and stations in the quiet of night. Away from the glimmer of the fluorescent lights, the blackness hummed and crackled with spectral electricity.
I tuned my antenna to its frequency.”