Articles

Proms Programme | 30 August 2022

From an Earlier Age to Today’s Stage

Journalist Ian Harrison talks to PSB band-members about bringing This New Noise from concept to performance at the Royal Albert Hall

In 1922, the BBC’s founding General Manager, John Reith, declared the new broadcaster’s remit was to “Inform-Educate-Entertain”. Ninety-one years later, history-minded electronic rock ensemble Public Service Broadcasting used Reith’s formula as the title for their debut album. “When you do that”, says PSB principal and songwriter J. Willgoose, Esq., “you’re directly inviting certain parallels, aren’t you?”

It’s apt, then, that tonight Public Service Broadcasting marks the BBC’s centenary with their new song-suite, This New Noise, which they perform with the BBC Symphony Orchestra conducted by Jules Buckley.

Few other groups would have been up to the challenge in quite the same way. Formed in south London in 2009, PSB have abided by their own founding credo – “teaching the lessons of the past through the music of the future” – on a series of releases that have incorporated vintage audio samples into vivid musical portraits of, variously, the Second World War (The War Room, 2012), the rise and fall of the British coal industry (Every Valley, 2017), and the city of Berlin and the modern metropolis (Bright Magic, 2021). Meanwhile, a new version of 2015’s The Race For Space, a stirring evocation of the superpowers’ Cold War rivalry in orbit, was memorably played at the 2019 Proms with Peckham’s Multi-Story Orchestra.

But how to encapsulate 100 years of the national broadcaster in all its aspects? As ever with PSB, the approach is indirect. “It covers the years 1922 to possibly 1937”, says Willgoose, who began writing the music early this year. “In terms of the technological and almost spiritual leaps that were made, and the kind of evangelical spread of the BBC, it’s almost entirely pre-war and pre-television. Trying to fit in everything the Beeb’s done in 100 years, you’d end up doing some kind of montage of things, with, I don’t know, the Jackanory theme tune or something. That would be in danger of just becoming nostalgic, and we’re not interested in that.”

Bringing lives and ideas that seem far removed from our own age into focus involved immersion and study. “I’ve been reading back issues of the Radio Times from 1927, cover to cover”, says Willgoose cheerily: other reference works included Broadcasting (1933) by pioneering producer Hilda Matheson, The Story of Broadcasting (1924) by Arthur Burrows – the announcer who read the BBC’s first ever news bulletin on 14 November 1922 – and the memoirs of founding genius Lord Reith, who envisaged the service as “the citizen’s guide, philosopher and friend”.

“The idea”, says Willgoose, “is to take it back to where it started, and just ask, Why was it set up in this way? Who was behind it? What did they think they had with this new technology of radio? What role did they think it fulfilled? What did they think it shouldn’t do? It’s also about the magic of this box that just appeared in people’s living rooms and suddenly voices were coming out of it at all times of day – it’s pretty mind-blowing.”

In gathering his raw samples, he had to navigate what actually exists and what is possible to license, though he received, he says, invaluable help from Simon Rooks of BBC Archives. This being a Prom, there was also an orchestra to think about. Handily, PSB’s bassist and horn player JFAbraham serves as orchestrator and arranger, building upon Willgoose’s polished demos: other preparation involved the two sharing online playlists, listening to Ravel and Debussy, and attending concerts including Korngold’s Violin Concerto, Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 6 and Steve Reich’s Music For 18 Musicians. “JF is very helpfully bridging the gap between my ignorance and the skill and proficiency of an orchestra,” says Willgoose. “Reading notation often isn’t the way that pop musicians learn songs”, says JF diplomatically.

“When we did The Race For Space Prom, the material was pre-existing”, says JF, who studied orchestral trumpet for five years and has also arranged for Bastille and Jessie Ware. “But this is all new material that’s been conceived for orchestra and the band. J is playing guitar, Wrigglesworth is playing drums and this time I’m only playing piano. It’s a much more scaled-down version of what we usually do as a band, because we’ve also got this enormous 80-piece beast of an orchestra.”

“I’m a sort of closet romantic”, says Willgoose of writing for strings, woodwind and brass. “It comes out in our music, even if it definitely doesn’t come out in daily life. This piece needs to have the soaring moments and the big themes that are going to hopefully get people roused. That’s part of the point of it, get them proud of this thing that their country has created.”

“The physical feeling of being close to an orchestra of this size and level of artistry, and the dynamic range that they can produce – it changes the air around you”, says JF. “When it’s working at its best, it’s just this one huge organism with a common purpose, of realising a greater work”.

So it is with This New Noise, as pivotal moments in the BBC’s early history are evoked in eight sound-paintings which blend the antique and futuristic. These include advances in technology: A Cello Sings in Daventry refers to the huge transmitting station in Northamptonshire that began transmitting in 1927, while The Microphone (The Fleet Is Lit Up) includes advice for politicians from George Bernard Shaw and revisits Lit Up from PSB’s first album, featuring Lt Cdr Thomas Woodrooffe, who was loquaciously drunk while commentating on the Coronotation Review of the Fleet at Spithead in 1937 (the official explanation involved the first use of the euphemism “tired and emotional”). The articles of faith upon which the new service was founded are also invoked, with A Candle Which Will Not Be Put Out articulating the lofty ideals of broadcasting “the complete range of human thought and activity expressed… to the best possible standard”. There is a sense of awe and wonder when Ripples in the Ether (Towards The Infinite) looks to an unlimited future in clipped received pronunciation, accompanied by etheric radio waves and the hiss and crackle of ancient transcription discs.

Reith himself takes centre stage in the shimmering, staccato An Unusual Man. “He was only there for a relatively short period, from 1922 to 1938”, says Willgoose, “but he’s key to the whole thing – his voice and ideas are all across the BBC, and he’s still the dominant force in its history. They were days of high adventure, they were learning constantly, but because of Reith’s background there was a quasi-religious kind of bent to it – he was quite “sermon on the mount” in terms of his delivery. And the idea that a system designed to make a profit for shareholders would be counter to the interests of the media, and that broadcasting without public service is aimless and pointless… you think, yeah, he might have had a point.”

Willgoose and JF both promise that the performance will include theatrical elements: such is the dearth of original audio sources, some material, such as the words of Hilda Matheson, spoken by Reeta Chakrabarti, while Devon-born folk singer Seth Lakeman will guest on one song. PSB’s stage visuals specialist, Mr B, says Willgoose, archly, has got some “bits and bobs, though not much contemporary video stuff exists. But he did get hold of an old, big, radio set, and I wanted to start with that being brought on and plugged in and humming into life, as the signal starts to pass through the ether. And I wanted to end with it fading down to nothing and being carried off in an empty stage, to make people pose the question of, well, if the BBC vanishes, as some people want it to, what’s going take its place? Because it’s certainly not going be something that funds things like the Proms.”

Incidentally, Willgoose bristles when asked what BBC services he consumes: “That word consume is indicative of how this public service ethos has been corrupted by commerce”, he says. “I don’t consume anything, I watch and listen to various things, and enjoy them! Which are Radio 4, BBC Four, Radio 6 Music and, increasingly, Radio 3. Charlotte Higgins, whose 2015 book This New Noise. The Extraordinary Birth And Troubled Life Of The BBC our work is name after, called the BBC the greatest cultural institution this country has ever known. I believe it’s a force for good, despite its missteps.”

Concerned with practicalities, JF is anticipatiing an unforgettable night. “At the Royal Albert Hall, all you have to do is walk backstage and see all the pictires of gigs and concerts and pageants that have happened there, and it gives you that massive sense of occasion. You’re just putting so much into one evening’s worth of music, because we might not get the chance to do it again.”

As well as marking a new frontier for Public Service Broadcasting, the night promises to restate the band’s – and the BBC’s – first principles. We will be informed. We will be educated. And we will be entertained. Lord Reith would be proud.

CBC Music | 29 June 2017

First Play: Public Service Broadcasting, Every Valley

Andrea Gin

British post-rock band Public Service Broadcasting takes a deep dive into the rise and fall of the mining industry in Wales on its new album, Every Valley.

Listening to this new music feels a little like listening to a musical documentary. The instrumental band features samples of historical materials, like propaganda films and old newsreels, and manages to give a bit of a history lesson with each of its albums. Previous topics have included World War II and the space race, and Every Valley is no exception: on it, the band tells the stories of the Welsh working class and its struggle to survive during the mining industry’s decline and eventual collapse.

Frontman J. Willgoose, Esq finds the topic to still be very relevant now. “[The story is] applicable to industries all over the Western world and possibly beyond,” he said via press release, “in the way that the Industrial Revolution generated these communities that were so dependent on one particular industry, and what happens to that community when you remove that industry from it, and where that leaves us now.”

One aspect of Every Valley is markedly different from Public Service Broadcasting’s previous three efforts: it’s the first album to feature singing. Featured guests include Tracyanne Campbell (Camera Obscura), James Dean Bradfield (Manic Street Preachers) and Lisa Jên Brown (9Bach).

The track “They Gave me a Lamp” is a collaboration with U.K. instrumental trio Haiku Salut, and tells the story of the role of women’s support groups during the U.K. miner’s strike in the mid-’80s, layered over an uplifting and bright indie-rock soundscape.

Ultimately, the songs on Every Valley address the band’s recently renewed interest in politics in the U.K.

As Willgoose told the Guardian, “That horrible phrase ‘stay in your lane’… this record rails against that and remembers the desire for bettering yourself that came from communities that coalesced around a single industry, when there was more political engagement and the idea of being working-class didn’t mean that you couldn’t appreciate art or poetry.”

Every Valley will be released on July 7. The band will be playing two dates in Canada this fall: on Sept. 16 at Belmont in Montreal and Sept. 17 at the Mod Club in Toronto.

Source : https://www.cbcmusic.ca/first-plays/395/first-play-public-service-broadcasting-every-valle

NPR | 29 June 2017

Review: Public Service Broadcasting, ‘Every Valley’

Stephen Thompson

At first, Public Service Broadcasting’s music scans as a lighthearted gimmick: A stripped-down band — led by a guy billed as « J. Willgoose, Esq. » — performs dramatic instrumentals over voiceovers from old newsreels, documentaries, propaganda and public-service materials. But as the U.K. group prepares to release its third album, it’s striking how sturdy and versatile that sound has become.

Every Valley isn’t Public Service Broadcasting’s first concept album; that would be 2015’s The Race For Space, which revisits in stirring fashion the historical saga referenced in its title. But the band’s thematic palette has grown dramatically on Every Valley, which uses the collapse of the coal-mining industry in South Wales as a backdrop for a poignant and sweeping statement on automation, as well as the vulnerability of workers and the communities they support. The story feels universal — and far more current than some of the old-timey voiceovers might suggest.

Best of all, the band’s sound has expanded to match its artistic ambitions. In « Progress, » Kraftwerkian rhythms, processed vocals and archival samples — « You owe much to these machines » — are set against choruses in which Camera Obscura‘s Tracyanne Campbell coos, « I believe in progress! » In « Turn No More, » Public Service Broadcasting enlists the guest vocals of Manic Street Preachers’ James Dean Bradfield, who gives Every Valley a jolt of seething protest music. « All Out, » on the other hand, bypasses the singing in favor of a few dramatic samples, which sit atop a bed of stormy post-rock drama; the song powerfully evokes the labor unrest at its heart, while also pummeling as hard as the band has ever pummeled before.

Public Service Broadcasting has been fun since the beginning — especially live, when the band performs in the shadows of evocative old filmed footage. On Every Valley, it achieves something even richer and harder to accomplish: relevance.

Source : https://www.npr.org/2017/06/29/532602552/first-listen-public-service-broadcasting-every-valley

Yorkshire Evening Post | 29 June 2017

“I’m happy to say there was a lot of openness”

The wealth of old footage contained with the British Film Institute’s archives in London have proved a rich source of inspiration for Public Service Broadcasting.

After basing their first two albums on public information films and the space race between the USA and Soviet Russia, J Willgoose Esq headed back there again for their third record.

Every Valley explores the history of the coal mining community in South Wales and the profound changes wrought upon it by the industry’s decline and fall.

“There isn’t a particularly simple route for getting to the album being the way it was,” begins Willgoose. “It was the idea over a lot of time of maybe something interesting I could do with the BFI’s mining archives, because I know they’ve got a lot and we’ve got a good relationship with them, wanting to do something different after The Race For Space and this progression of big, epic, enormous themes and maybe do something that was a little bit more specific geographically and maybe had a bit more of a political edge.

“I think the thing that drew me to South Wales more than anything was the strength of the community there and how it was the most solid area during the strike [of 1984-85] and wondering why was that and if that was the case what’s it like now? That’s probably what got the cogs whirring in the first place.”

Willgoose was also at pains to visit the Welsh valleys himself. “That was an important part of getting it right – or as right as someone like me could do. Going there and spending a lot of time there and doing some proper research and meeting people and speaking to people and doing it in the proper spirit of engagement and openness that subject like this warrants. If you’re going to do it you’ve got to do it properly and not go into it with too many preconceived ideas, almost like a blank slate and say, ‘What’s the story here then?’”

Speaking to people who had worked down the mines in Ebbw Vale proved eye-opening. “Living through the strike, it was little things like expecting them to be very anti-police. I think in the valleys they didn’t get too many people from London bussed in to supervise these things. A lot of the time the conflicts were with people they knew and more kind of personal. It was stuff like that, finding how much more nuanced it was, not just going in and shouting and screaming.

“It was useful background information and it was useful to speak to people who were directly involved and not just go in and think you’ve read a couple of books and watched a few films; it was an important part of the process – as much as anything gauging what these kind of people’s reactions are going to be to someone like me coming in and saying I’d like to write an album about it: is it a wall of hostility or is there an openness to it? I’m happy to say that thankfully there was a lot of openness and almost like a tacit encouragement in a couple of ways. It was great.”

Willgoose admits the band’s manager had some initial misgivings about the project. “Some people may have that reaction too: how do you take something like that and make it open and accessible? How do you end up with an engaging album that isn’t all just politics and conflict and anger? I didn’t really want to make that album,” Willgoose says. “It does have a place on it but it’s not the overriding emotion, certainly.”

The album’s central theme of the neglect and abandonment of a whole community can be seen to be reflected in other post-industrial societies around the world. Willgoose admits to feeling particularly engaged by politics in the past couple of years.

“I think it’s like the sample in They Gave Me a Lamp says, at some point, whether it’s early in your life or later in your life, you realise that everything about politics affects you directly or indirectly. I don’t see how you can’t be engaged with it given what’s been going on over the last couple of years.

“That was the interesting thing as we were making this album because I knew I wanted to do it this way even before the last General Election, when those results came through they caught everybody by surprise. I felt ‘Maybe this is a good time to be doing something like this’. Then the EU referendum happened and that adds a whole level of complication and subtlety and relevance to it all and then Mr Trump over the ocean talking about bringing these jobs back and you just think I don’t know how you couldn’t be politically engaged at the moment. It just seems impossible to me. Maybe some people manage it, maybe they have a less anxious life as a result.”

Every Valley is released on July 7. Public Service Broadcasting play at O2 Academy Leeds on October 19. publicservicebroadcasting.net

Source : https://www.yorkshireeveningpost.co.uk/whats-on/arts-and-entertainment/im-happy-to-say-there-was-a-lot-of-openness-644902

CBC Music | 29 juin 2017

Première écoute : Public Service Broadcasting – Every Valley

Andrea Gin

Le groupe post-rock britannique Public Service Broadcasting plonge profondément dans la montée et la chute de l’industrie minière au Pays de Galles sur son nouvel album, Every Valley.

En écoutant cette nouvelle musique, on a un peu l’impression d’écouter un documentaire musical. Le groupe instrumental comprend des samples d’images historiques, comme des films de propagande et de vieux films d’actualités, et réussit à donner une petite leçon d’histoire avec chacun de ses albums. Les thèmes précédents ont inclus la seconde guerre mondiale et la course à l’espace, et Every Valley ne fait pas exception : dessus, le groupe raconte les histoires de la classe ouvrière galloise et sa lutte pour survivre durant le déclin de l’industrie minière et finalement son effondrement.

Le leader J. Willgoose, Esq trouve le sujet toujours très pertinent aujourd’hui. “[L’histoire] s’applique aux industries de part et autre le monde occidental et possiblement au-delà”, déclare-t-il via communiqué de presse, “d’une manière que la révolution industrielle a généré ces communautés qui étaient tellement dépendantes d’une industrie en particulier, et ce qui arrive à cette communauté quand tu lui retires cette industrie, et où cela nous laisse aujourd’hui”.

Un aspect de Every Valley est sensiblement différent des trois efforts précédents de Public Service Broadcasting : c’est le premier album à comprendre du chant. Les invités qui apparaissent incluent Tracyanne Campbell (Camera Obscura), James Dean Bradfield (Manic Street Preachers) et Lisa Jên Brown (9Bach).

Le morceau They Gave Me A Lamp est une collaboration avec le trio instrumental britannique Haiku Salut, et raconte l’histoire du rôle des groupes de soutien des femmes durant la grève des mineurs britanniques au milieu des années 1980, posé sur un paysage sonore de rock-indé exaltant et joyeux.

Au bout du compte, les chansons sur Every Valley abordent l’intérêt récemment renouvelé du groupe pour la politique au Royaume-Uni.

Comme Willgoose a dit au Guardian, “Cette expression horrible, restez dans votre voie… ce disque peste conte ça et se souvient du désir de s’améliorer qui est venu de communautés qui se sont unies autour d’une seule industrie, quand il y avait plus d’engagement politique et l’idée de venir de la classe ouvrière ne voulait pas dire que tu ne pouvais pas apprécier l’art ou la poésie”.

Every Valley sort le 7 juillet. Le groupe jouera deux dates au Canada cet automne : le 16 septembre au Belmont de Montréal et le 17 septembre au Mod Club de Toronto.

Traduction : 1er septembre 2024

NPR | 29 juin 2017

Chronique : Public Service Broadcasting – Every Valley

Stephen Thompson

Au début, la musique de Public Service Broadcasting semble être un gimmick léger : un groupe minimaliste – mené par un gars présenté sous le nom de “J. Willgoose, Esq.” – interprète des instrumentales dramatiques sur des voix off extraites de vieux films d’actualités, documentaires, images de propagande et du service public. Mais tandis que le groupe britannique se prépare à sortir son troisième album, il est frappant de voir combien ce son est devenu robuste et versatile.

Every Valley n’est pas le premier album concept de Public Service Broadcasting ; ce serait The Race For Space de 2015, qui revisite de manière émouvante la saga historique de la course à l’espace référencée dans son titre. Mais la palette thématique du groupe s’est dramatiquement agrandie sur Every Valley, qui utilise l’effondrement de l’industrie minière au Sud du Pays de Galles comme toile de fond d’une déclaration poignante et de grande envergure sur l’automatisation, ainsi que la vulnérabilité des ouvriers et des communautés qu’ils soutiennent. L’histoire semble universelle – et bien plus actuelle que certaines vieilles voix off pourraient suggérer.

Encore mieux, le son du groupe s’est agrandi pour aller avec ses ambitions artistiques. Sur Progress, des rythmes à la Kraftwerk, des chants transformés et des samples d’archives – “Vous devez beaucoup à ces machines” – sont installés contre des refrains dans lesquels Tracyanne Campbell de Camera Obscura roucoule, “Je crois au progrès !”. Sur Turn No More, Public Service Broadcasting engage le chant invité de James Dean Bradfield des Manic Street Preachers, qui donné à Every Valley un électrochoc de musique de protestation agitée. All Out, au contraire, contourne le chant en faveur de quelques samples dramatiques, posés sur un lit de drame post-rock tempétueux ; la chanson évoque violemment l’agitation de la main d’œuvre en son cœur, tout en tabassant aussi fortement que le groupe n’a jamais encore fait.

Public Service Broadcasting est marrant depuis le début – surtout sur scène, quand le groupe joue dans les ombres de vieux films évocateurs. Sur Every Valley, il atteint quelque chose d’encore plus riche et difficile à accomplir : la pertinence.

Traduction : 1er septembre 2024

Programme des Proms | 30 août 2022

D’une époque plus ancienne à la scène d’aujourd’hui

Le journaliste Ian Harrison parle aux membres du groupe PSB à propos de transformer le concept de This New Noise en performance sur la scène du Royal Albert Hall

En 1922, le directeur général fondateur de la BBC, John Reith, a déclaré que le mandat de la nouvelle société de radiodiffusion était de “Informer-Éduquer-Divertir”. 91 ans plus tard, l’ensemble rock électronique féru d’histoire, Public Service Broadcasting, a utilisé la formule de Reith comme titre de son premier album. “Quand tu fais cela”, raconte le membre principal et compositeur de PSB, J. Willgoose, Esq., “tu invites directement certains parallèles, n’est-ce pas ?”

Il est apte, alors, que ce soir Public Service Broadcasting marque le centenaire de la BBC avec leur nouvelle suite de chansons, This New Noise, qu’ils interprètent avec le BBC Symphony Orchestra dirigé par Jules Buckley.

Peu d’autres groupes auraient été à la hauteur du challenge à cet égard. Formés dans le Sud de Londres en 2009, PSB ont respecté leur propre credo fondateur – sur une série de sorties qui ont incorporé des samples audio vintages dans de frappants portraits musicaux de, diversement, la seconde guerre mondiale (The War Room, 2012), la montée et le déclin de l’industrie minière britannique (Every Valley, 2017) et la ville de Berlin et la métropole moderne (Bright Magic, 2021). Entretemps, une nouvelle version de The Race For Space de 2015, évocation émouvante de la rivalité des supers puissances en orbite pendant la guerre froide, a été jouée mémorablement aux Proms de 2019 avec le Multi-Story Orchestra de Peckham.

Mais comment résumer 100 ans de la société de diffusion nationale dans ses aspects ? Comme d’habitude avec PSB, l’approche est indirecte. “Elle couvre les années 1922 à possiblement 1937”, explique Willgoose, qui a commencé à écrire la musique plus tôt cette année. “En termes des bonds technologiques et quasi spirituels qui ont été faits, et le genre d’expansion évangélique de la BBC, c’est quasiment entièrement pré-guerre et pré-télévision. Essayer de faire rentrer tout ce que la Beeb a fait en 100 ans, on se serait retrouvés à faire une sorte de montage, avec, je ne sais pas, le générique de Jackanory ou peu importe. Cela aurait été en danger de juste devenir nostalgique, et nous ne sommes pas intéressés par cela”.

Mettre en lumière des vies et des idées qui semblent très éloignées de notre propre époque a impliqué de l’immersion et de l’étude. “J’ai lu des anciens numéros de Radio Time de 1927, de la première à la dernière page”, raconte Willgoose avec entrain : d’autres œuvres de référence incluaient Broadcasting (1933) par la pionnière de la production Hilda Matheson, The Story of Broadcasting (1924) par Arthur Burrows – le speaker qui a lu le tout premier bulletin d’informations de la BBC le 14 novembre 1922 – et les mémoires du génie fondateur Lord Reith, qui envisageait le service comme “le guide, philosophe et ami du citoyen”.

“L’idée”, selon Willgoose, “est de revenir là où elle a commencé, et de simplement demander, Pourquoi était-elle organisée de cette manière ? Qui était derrière ? Que pensaient-ils avoir avec cette nouvelle technologie de la radio ? Quel rôle pensaient-ils qu’elle remplissait ? Que pensaient-ils qu’elle ne devrait pas faire ? Cela parle de la magie de cette boîte qui est simplement apparue dans le salon des gens et tout à coup des voix en sortaient à tout moment de la journée – c’est assez renversant”.

En réunissant ses samples bruts, il a dû naviguer entre ce qui existe effectivement et ce dont il est possible d’obtenir l’autorisation, même s’il a reçu, dit-il, une aide inestimable de Simon Rooks de BBC Archives. Cela étant une Prom, il fallait également penser à un orchestre. De manière pratique, le bassiste et joueur de cuivre JFAbraham sert d’orchestrateur et arrangeur, partant des démos peaufinées de Willgoose : une autre préparation a impliqué les deux partageant des playlists en ligne, écoutant Ravel et Debussy, et allant à des concerts dont le Concerto pour violon de Korngold, la Symphonie n°6 de Tchaïkovski et la Music for 18 Musicians de Steve Reich. “JF comble avec obligeance l’écart entre mon ignorance et le talent et la maîtrise d’un orchestre”, explique Willgoose. “Lire de la notation n’est souvent pas la manière dont les musiciens pop apprenent des chansons”, déclare JF avec diplomatie.

“Quand on a fait la Prom The Race For Space, les chansons pré-existaient”, dit JF, qui a étudié la trompette orchestrale pendant cinq ans et a également arrangé pour Bastille et Jessie Ware. “Mais ce n’est que des morceaux normaux qui ont été conçus pour un orchestre et le groupe. J joue de la guitare, Wrigglesworth de la batterie et cette fois je ne joue que du piano. C’est une version très réduite de ce qu’on fait habituellement en tant que groupe, parce qu’on a aussi cette énorme bête d’orchestre de 80 personnes”.

“Je suis une sorte de romantique refoulé”, explique Willgoose de l’écriture pour des cordes, des bois et des cuivres. “Cela ressort dans notre musique, même si cela ne ressort définitivement pas dans la vie quotidienne. Cette œuvre a nécessité d’avoir des moments d’envolée et les gros thèmes qui j’espère vont provoquer les gens. Cela fait partie de l’intérêt; qu’ils soient fiers de cette chose que leur pays a créée”.

“Le sentiment physique d’être proche d’un orchestre de cette taille et ce niveau de talent artistique, et l’étendue dynamique qu’ils peuvent produire – ça change l’air qui t’entoure”, explique JF. “Quand ça fonctionne au mieux, c’est juste un énorme organisme avec un but commun, de réaliser une œuvre plus grande”.

Alors c’est le cas avec This New Noise, tandis que des moments clés du début de l’histoire de la BBC sont évoqués dans huit tableaux sonores qui fusionnent l’antique et le futuriste. Cela inclut des avancées dans la technologie : A Cello Sings in Daventry se réfère à l’énorme station de retransmission dans le Northamptonshire qui a commencé à émettre en 1927, tandis que The Microphone (The Fleet Is Lit Up) inclut un conseil pour les hommes politiques de la part de George Bernard Shaw et revisite Lit Up du premier album de PSB, comprenant le capitaine de corvette Thomas Woodrooffe, qui était saoul de façon loquace tout en commentant la revue de la flotte du couronnement à Spithead en 1937 (l’explication officielle a impliqué la première utilisation de l’euphémisme “fatigué et émotionnel”). Les articles de foi sur lesquels le nouveau service a été fondé sont également invoqués, avec A Candle Which Will Not Be Put Out articulant les idéaux nobles de la radiodiffusion “l’étendue complète de pensée humaine et d’activité exprimée… au meilleur standard possible”. Il y a un sentiment d’admiration et d’émerveillement quand Ripples in the Ether (Towards The Infinite) regarde un avenir illimité dans une prononciation en anglais standard, accompagné par des ondes radio éthériques et le sifflement et le crépitement d’anciens disques de transcription.

Reith lui-même est au centre de l’attention dans le staccato chatoyant An Unusual Man. “Il n’était là que pendant une période relativement courte, de 1922 à 1938”, explique Willgoose, “mais il est la clé de tout – sa voix et ses idées se retrouvent partout dans la BBC, et il est toujours la force dominante dans son histoire. C’était des jours de grande aventure, ils apprenaient constamment, mais à cause de l’éducation de Reith, il y avait une sorte quasi-religieuse de penchant dedans – il était assez “sermon sur le mont” dans son élocution. Et l’idée qu’un système conçu pour profiter aux actionnaires contrerait les intérêts des médias, et que la radiodiffusion sans le service public est sans but et inutile… on pense, ouais, il pourrait avoir raison”.

Willgoose et JF promettent que la performance inclura des éléments théâtraux : le manque de sources audio originales est tel que certains contenus, comme les paroles de Hilda Matheson, seront narrées par Reeta Chakrabarti, tandis que le chanteur folk Seth Lakeman, né dans le Devon, apparaîtra sur une chanson. Le spécialiste des visuels scéniques de PSB, Mr B, déclare Willgoose d’un ton malicieux, a quelques “bricoles, même si peu de vidéos contemporaines existent. Mais il a mis la main sur une grosse vieille radio, et je voulais commencer avec elle apportée sur scène et branchée et s’allumant en bourdonnant, tandis que le signal commence à passer dans l’éther. Et je voulais finir avec elle qui s’éteint et qui est enlevée d’une scène vide, pour pousser les gens à se poser la question de, eh bien, si la BBC disparaît, comme certains le veulent, qui va prendre sa place ? Parce que ce n’est certainement pas quelque chose qui finance des choses comme les Proms”.

D’ailleurs, Willgoose s’irrite quand on lui demande quelques services de la BBC il consomme : “Ce mot consommer est révélateur de combien l’éthique du service public a été corrompu par le commerce”, dit-il. “Je ne consomme rien, je regarde et j’écoute diverses choses et je les apprécie ! C’est Radio 4, BBC Four, Radio 6Music et, de plus en plus, Radio 3. Charlotte Higgins, d’après le livre de 2015 de laquelle, This New Noise. The Extraordinary Birth And Troubled Life Of The BBC, notre œuvre est nommée, disait que la BBC était la plus grande institution culturelle que ce pays n’a jamais connu. Je pense que c’est une force pour le bien, malgré ses faux pas”.

Se souciant du sens pratique, JF anticipe une soirée inoubliable. “Au Royal Albert Hall, tout ce que tu as à faire, c’est te balader en coulisses et regarder toutes les photos des concerts et spectacles qui ont eu lieu là-bas, et ça te donne cette énorme solennité des circonstances. Tu mets tout simplement tellement dans un soir de musique, parce qu’on n’aura peut-être pas la chance de le refaire”.

Tout en marquant une nouvelle frontière pour Public Service Broadcasting, la soirée promet de réaffirmer les premiers principes du groupe – et de la BBC. Nous serons informés. Nous serons éduqués. Et nous serons divertis. Lord Reith serait fier.

Traduction : 1er septembre 2024

The Guardian | 17 June 2017

Public Service Broadcasting: ‘We wanted to do something on a more human level’

Jude Rogers

The band’s new album, Every Valley, chronicles the destruction of the Welsh coal industry and how its legacy still resonates in these uncertain times

It’s general election night in the Ebbw Vale mining institute and four Englishmen are telling the Welsh about Wales’s past. They wear ties, rather bravely, in front of pint-sinking choristers and local rockers in 1970s tour T-shirts. Above the stage, footage plays of mid-20th century miners, their eyes shining like anthracite, cigarettes dangling from their lips. “The arrogant strut of the lords of the coalface,” purrs Richard Burton through the speakers, “looking at the posh people with hostile eyes.” These miners look like rock stars, much more so than Public Service Broadcasting, who are operating the machinery tonight.

Between 2013 and 2015, Public Service Broadcasting ploughed a fertile furrow in the pop landscape with two albums sampling old public information films over guitar-slathered electronica: Boys’ Own adventures about space, Spitfires and the second world war. They return with a very different record: Every Valley. Chronicling the rise and fall of the Welsh coal industry, it was recorded in the Ebbw Vale institute, which stands in one the most deprived areas of a country predicted to swing closer to Tory tonight. Last year, people here voted heavily to leave the EU.

“This record remembers when the idea of being working-class didn’t mean that you couldn’t appreciate art or poetry”.
J Willgoose Esq

Tonight’s gig was booked long before the election was called and frontman J. Willgoose Esq (bandmates JF Abraham and Wrigglesworth have similar, Molesworthian monikers) sits in an upstairs counselling room, without a bow tie for now, looking nervous. “We’re going to take an absolute pounding, I think.”

He’s talking about Labour. Every Valley is a project born of his renewed interest in politics and a society he feels is smothering opportunity and potential in ordinary people. “That horrible phrase ‘stay in your lane’… this record rails against that and remembers the desire for bettering yourself that came from communities that coalesced around a single industry, when there was more political engagement and the idea of being working-class didn’t mean that you couldn’t appreciate art or poetry.”

Willgoose first had the idea for Every Valley before 2015’s Race For Space, wanting to get away from “big, epic subjects… and do something on a more human level”. The album’s themes aren’t just about Wales, either, he adds – its title is deliberately universal.

Despite “vague connections” to the country thanks to a half-Welsh grandmother, Willgoose has been wary with this project about being a Londoner looking in. He recorded interviews with old miners through the NUM in Pontypridd and pored over mountains of audio and film at the South Wales Miners’ Library at Swansea University. “I expected to be viewed with suspicious half-glances, constantly,” he says. “But that hasn’t happened once. Everyone’s been supportive, welcoming and open… and making the same jokes about Brexit as we do in London.” There’s a story still here, you sense, that bears retelling.

Every Valley tells this story very inclusively. Women are the subject of the moving They Gave Me a Lamp (“If you could get the women into one meeting or get involved in one thing, you could see them as this other life,” says the voice of a local woman, Margaret Donovan). You + Me is a bilingual duet with Lisa Jên Brown from 9Bach, to address “the history of English people being absolutely awful in terms of the Welsh language,” Willgoose says. James Dean Bradfield turns poet Idris Davies’s Gwalia Deserta XXXVI into the rocking Turn No More, while the Beaufort male voice choir sing Take Me Home.

The risk of romanticising the past hangs heavy on this record, but tracks such as The Pit bring things back to earth, detailing the “three feet and six inches” of working space and the 80 degree heat. So does the chorus of Progress (“I believe in progress”), the melancholic double meaning captured perfectly by Camera Obscura’s Tracyanne Campbell. Willgoose didn’t want to impose a stronger political message on the music, because “it’s much more powerful if you leave ambiguity in –if you’re too earnest it doesn’t matter how correct your message is”.

He’d prefer that the echoes of the past in this record help us think about the present, like how the destruction of the unions in the 80s has a legacy in working conditions today. After the Tory majority in 2015, and last year’s Brexit vote, this project felt even more vital. “Watching it become more relevant, as more dominoes fell… it felt important to get on with it”, he says.

Half an hour before showtime, the institute is buzzing. The NUM’s Wayne Thomas and Ron Stoate are here, who Willgoose interviewed for the album; solid men in polo shirts who survived the miners’ strike, they’re still youthful now, which propels the past to the present. Stoate thinks the record’s “really good – mining songs before this were solemn and about dust and dying in your hospital bed”. Thomas agrees. “For a young man to come in from outside and really get to know the people and piece the story together – there’s real sincerity there.”

Both men believe the people of the valleys have been hoodwinked by politicians in recent years. “The Leave vote was that bloody bus. £350m to the NHS – so many people voted for that,” Stoate rails. “And as for immigration! People going, ‘Bloody Poles coming here, taking our jobs.’ Down the mines, we worked with Poles all the time. Lithuanians, Latvians, all of them!” Wayne nods. “Locally, nationally, internationally, there’s been a smashing of that knowledge base, those memories.” Then he shrugs. “You can only hope things will get better.”

Public Service Broadcasting take the stage at 8.30pm. The show is rousing and moving, grown men welling up at the National Coal Board’s 1960s recruitment campaign adverts, as well as songs about the conquering of Everest and the first orbiting of the moon – all night, you see men transported back to their childhoods, in full voice.

Seven hours later, Blaenau Gwent returns its Labour MP, Nick Smith, with 58% of the vote, and the Ukip candidate drops from second place to fourth. Willgoose spends the night at a nearby Premier Inn, in shock, with the words of a fan who grew up near Ebbw Vale still ringing in his ears. “He said the gig was a strange sensation, like having a band speak directly for him… and if we have helped people have their voices heard, in a tiny way, then that’s great.” And how does he feel about the election result? “It’s a total mess, but maybe it’s the start of a new generation finding their voice, realising they have the chance to make a difference.”

Every Valley is released by PIAS Recordings on 7 July

Source : https://www.theguardian.com/music/2017/jun/17/public-service-broadcasting-every-valley-welsh-mining-industry

eGigs.co.uk | 30 November 2015

Public Service Broadcasting (PSB) began transmitting in 2010 as a collaboration between J.Willgoose, Esq (Samples, guitar) and Wrigglesworth (Drums). What they concocted was a seamless blend of funk and electronica interspersed with voice samples from public information films and other historic broadcasts. They formally introduced themselves in 2013 with the arrival of debut album ‘Inform-Educate-Entertain’. The questions was, could they sustain this unique approach to music and writing?Or would it prove to be of passing interest to the fickle? The release of their second long-player 2015’s ‘The Race for Space’ proved the London duo were nimble enough to consolidate and build upon what they had already achieved. After a busy festival season, tonight they find themselves returning to Cardiff at the start of their first major headline tour.

A stroke of genius is the short animation played on screen just before the gig starts. It’s basically about the horrors that befall a fictitious cartoon character who is shunned by one and all as a result of his anti-social behaviour filming an entire show on his smartphone. His eventual demise is greeted with mass applause.

As PSB take to the stage (unless my mathematics has failed me) the duo have doubled. No doubt to meet the challenges of reproducing the complexities of their recordings in a live environment. Needless to say, they all look the part in a geeky chickinda way. A rip-roaring ‘Signal 30’ is dispatched early in the set thus taking the audience into the palms of their hands. As anyone who has seen PSB live will already know, the band quite entertainingly use voice samples as banter between songs. We get everything from a « hello Cardiff » to lots of « simmer down » which is delivered in jest. As is to be expected, and as the set moves along we hear offerings from their latest album. All are warmly received from the brooding ‘Sputnik’ to the charging ‘Go’ prompting a « sing-along ». The pace quickens further with a rampant ‘Spitfire’, it’s at moments like this they seem untouchable. I don’t know if it’s intentional, but it’s multi-instrumentalist JJ Adams who steals the show with his gregarious performance looking like he is loving (and savouring) every moment.

As is customary with most live acts, after a brief interlude we welcome PSB back to the stage for an encore. As commonplace as encores are, this one feels a very appropriate gesture by the band for all the support the fans have given tonight. PSB ranks swell once more as they are joined by a 3-man brass section to fire up ‘Gagarin’ where I suddenly find myself in the midst of what can best be described as a funkadellic party. It’s a simply joyous moment, and adding to the exuberance on-stage is a dancing astronaut with some very fierce moves! It’s clear that I, the audience and PSB are all on the same frequency. What is also apparent is that Public Service Broadcasting exist in a universe of infinite possibilities, and I look forward to exploring each and every one of them.

Kevin Pick

Source : https://www.egigs.co.uk/reviews/?a=15127

HMV.com | 30 November 2015

Public Service Broadcasting @ Cardiff Y Plas

by Dan

Acclaimed oddballs Public Service Broadcasting rolled through Cardiff earlier this week and we were there to review them…

Who?
The most out-there prog indie-rock samplers Public Service Broadcasting, touring their new album The Race For Space…

Where?
In Cardiff University’s Y Plas.

Was it full? And how were the crowd?
The room itself gets very busy beforehand with everybody trying to get the best view of the stage. PSB aren’t the sort of band for sing-alongs or dancing, however the closest this comes is during Go…

So what was the set like? What did they play?
The set is frequently surprising and always entertaining right from the off. We are treated to a short infomercial regarding the correct concert etiquette in terms of photo taking and talking loudly. This tongue in cheeky tone is common throughout the duration.

Opening with Sputnik from The Race For Space, it’s a slow build but perfectly establishes each member of the band and highlights the progression of their music. In comparison Signal 30 follows which were it not for the samples is the closest thing to straight up rock they go and comes to life even more in its live setting.

Throughout the set we see a multitude of instruments on show from the standard keyboards, bass and guitar to brass sections, flugelhorns and even a banjo on Theme from PSB. The accompanying light show during these songs including Night Mail is very impressive telling a story whilst playing at the same time.

Debuting new song Korolev for the first time tonight feels like a genuine treat along with the best song about “Dutch Ice Skating” you will likely hear! As the audience hear the opening notes of Spitfire from their debut album it gets the biggest cheer of the night so far.

The next comes half way through The Other Side which really tells a story through the sampling and use of stage lighting. As the ship in the story travels around to the dark side of the moon, the stage goes into darkness until some dangling stars from the ceiling light up. As the band come back in again the crowd cheer along with the footage.

Go is the closest the crowd gets to singing along whilst an encore return for Gagarin is the closest everyone gets to a dance. Accompanied by jazzy suits, a grooving brass section as well as a dancing astronaut at the back, it’s great to see the band not taking themselves too seriously and having as much fun as the audience are.

Did they put on much of a show?
The light show is very impressive accompanied by some screens at the back showing the footage which accommodates the music. Each of the band members are characters in themselves bringing a sense of humour to proceedings by throwing themselves into it.

Any good between song banter?
The band themselves go under their own pseudonyms so there is no actual verbal communication with the crowd. Yet frontman J. Willgoose Esq communicates to the crowd through his computer which really maintains their sense of humour and fun that they have with everybody.

What was the highlight of the set?
New single Korolev stands out from the rest particularly when a brass section get involved and takes it up another gear.

Where can I catch them next?
The tour seens them visiting London with next year arriving at Leeds, Edinburgh and Liverpool. They are also playing a massive show with the Manic Street Preachers in Swansea’s Liberty Stadium over the summer.