Interview with Daniel Spicer

 

Daniel Spicer has a pretty wide spectrum of the areas where he is busy writing reviews for The Wire magazine as well as Jazzwise, Songlines, The Quietus, New Internationalist and WeJazz. I have known him from the books such as my favourite The Turkish Psychedelic Music Explosion: Anadolu Psych (1965–1980) (published by Repeater Books in 2018) and Peter Brötzmann: Free-Jazz, Revolution And The Politics Of Improvisation (Repeater, 2024).  He also presents the radio show The Mystery Lesson, which airs on One Jazz and previously on Brighton's 97.2FM Radio Reverb, focusing on avant-garde and experimental music.  As a musician, he has been a member of the ensembles Bolide, West Hill Blast Quartet, and In Threads, and has released solo work such as the Voice Studies 10 album. 

1. In almost every musician's , writer's , copywriter's creative life, there is a moment that is and will be remembered as a kind of turning point, when they move toward a realm where they can express themselves. An inspiration that makes you think: Maybe I'll try and do this. What was that like for you?

I’ve written ever since I was very young. It’s just part of who I am and something I’ve always done so it’s hard to pinpoint particular epiphanies. I guess I started writing poems when I was around 15 or 16. Then, a couple of years later when I started reading Beat poetry, that really set me on a path that I’ve been on ever since. There was a time, when my children were small, when perhaps I didn’t write so much, when I was more involved with music. Again, i had been in bands before - one time as a singer, another time as a drummer - but I distinctly remember when i decided to throw myself into that a bit more. i saw Sunburned Hand of the Man play live in Brighton in 2004, and what they were doing, basically improvising and mucking about, looked so much fun and so easy that I thought it would be good to try it myself. It was kind of a punk moment for me. It was also around this time I first started writing about music, for my own pleasure to begin with. Not long after, I started jamming with some friends, just trying my hand at whatever instruments I could get hold of without feeling the need to be able to actually play them, and that became the band Bolide - a kind of chaotic noise/free-jazz thing - which really took off for a while. Then, around 2012, I think, I made friends with a lot of poets in Brighton and, inspired and encouraged by them, I started writing poetry again, more seriously this time.

2. How was your adventure with your decision to write and play a bit of music?

With Bolide, and the other bands I’ve been in, I discovered just how much fun it is to improvise with friends, and especially in front of an audience. The instant feedback from a room full of people enjoying what you're doing is very addictive and something that writers don’t get very often. Bolide played a lot of cool gigs in great venues all over the country, toured a bit and even played overseas a few times. It was a total hoot. I’m not really making much music at the moment but, in Brighton, there are also a lot of opportunities for a poet to read their work to an appreciative audience - the scene here is very strong - so that, again, is a good opportunity to connect with people and a lot of fun. Both through music and poetry, I have been able to feel part of something, meeting lots of interesting people and taking part in events that felt really real and important.

3. Could you elaborate a little bit on the tools you are using and your creative process, please? Where do you start, what are your objectives, what role do your values and principles play, or even maybe a spiritual approach?

I must confess that I find drugs, and particularly marijuana, to be a great creative tool for both music and poetry. When improvising music, weed really helps one to focus on each moment and let go, to dive right in. In poetry, it can facilitate the kind of cognitive leaps that can bring surprise. I want to surprise myself when I write a poem. As far as I can tell, the idea of poetry is to record a state of consciousness - feelings, thoughts, memories, emotions - and then implant that directly into the mind of the reader so that they experience that state of consciousness too. It’s a very simple kind of magic.

 4. What are your inspirations in terms of style and creative process in your own work? Both within and outside of music, literature, art?

In poetry, as I said, the Beats - and, later, related poets like the New York School, the Black Mountain poets and so on - have been a huge influence. I love the idea of ‘visionary poetry' - which is often a euphemism for ‘written while on drugs.’ In music, too, I love sounds that are made by artists in heightened states, whether that’s Moroccan trance music, acid house, psychedelic rock or deep swinging jazz. So, naturally, these enthusiasms have affected they way I make art too. Whether I’m improvising a piece of music or writing a poem, I hope to achieve some sort of transcendent, ecstatic state, and I would hope some of the ecstasy would be experienced by the listener or reader.

5. How do you feel about putting your writing in a specific context for example: specific genre or target audience, literary traditions?

Well, I’ve been earning a living as a freelance writer for 20 years so I’m no stranger to writing in different contexts. You write what’s required, whether as a journalist or a copywriter. It’s crucial. The poetry is different - that’s where i can write whatever I like.

 6. Have you ever thought of some collaborative work?

I collaborated with a lot of different musicians when I was making music. That was always fun. I’m perhaps less interested in that as a writer. Probably the only person I’ve ever really don’t it with is my daughter, just for fun.

7. How do you feel about the ever-changing world of music and literature distribution? How difficult is it for you to promote your own art these days?

I guess that's what underground scenes are for. Tiny record labels that release things on CDr or cassette. The whole noise scene was based on that. As for poetry, there are some great small presses around but I’m really a fan of the honourable tradition of just self-releasing your own work, getting 50 or 100 copies of your latest pamphlet printed up and just give them away. Poets have been doing that forever.