Feature: SJD: Master Potter
Author: Mark Bell (photography by Emily Andrews)
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SJD: Superman in the studio |
Sure, the majority of people in this country may not have a clue as to who or what SJD (his nom-de-disc) is, he hasn't been on telly much lately, and many might not even care that much for his music if they heard it.
But anyone who's shooting for a higher level of cranial stimulation than the Top 40 currently provides, would have to concede the man's got some seriously good stuff going on. SJD releases intricate, unique, emotionally colourful and downright gorgeous music on a relatively shoestring budget. It could be from anywhere that is a home to classy music. His niche market should righteously encompass Europe, the US and beyond, so providing him with a completely immodest income be-fitting his talent.
He just happens to make his music in New Zealand. His lawns desperately need a mow, his jacket is missing a button and he creates his music while simultaneously co-raising two unique, emotionally colourful and downright gorgeous children on a Kiwi musician's budget. That's why he gets my vote.
SJD first came to indie prominence with his second release on Stinky Jim's Roundtrip Mars label, 2001's 'Lost Soul Music'. bFM radio was quick to respond to the combination of seductive textures, loops and samples, airy, intimate vocals (both male and female), and downbeat grooves.
| "Sometimes if it's too chaotic you've got to reign in the chaos, and if it's sounding too disciplined you've got to throw a few wild cards at it." |
But who cares about charts anyway? The music definitely had the 'Who's that?' factor, and the word was that 'Lost Soul Music' was the result of one man's potterings in a cramped bedroom studio somewhere in Auckland's Mt Eden. The word turned out to be pretty much correct.
So when news broke that a new album - 'Southern Lights' - was in the offering from the master of bedroom bedazzlement, it was good news indeed and a suitable occasion for a cup of tea (with milk, not squeezed and a small sugar), and a chat with the maestro himself.
The difficult first question involved the making of albums largely on one's lonesome. With three now under the belt ('3' in 1999 and 'Lost Soul Music' in 2001), does it get any easier for a guy who's recognised as something of a perfectionist?
Expecting an affirmative of some sort (given the Creative NZ funding this time and some name-drop collaborators), his answer is unexpected.
"No, no not at all," he admits slightly sheepishly. "That was pretty much the idea, for it to come together more quickly and easily and sort of 'ship-shape-and-Bristol-fashion'. But no, because there were a couple of false starts with it. I had a bunch of songs, enough for an album, and I went into a (commercial) studio and recorded with a band, the idea being to use whatever we gained in those sessions with those songs to pull apart and arrange, and to use that as a starting point. It's a good way to generate a lot of material quickly."
The problem with this approach was that the nature of playing songs with a band meant they took on a structured and conventional (by SJD standards at least) shape - something he had moved away from years ago, and which he then had difficulty dismantling.
"I was always struck with this thing when I was working on them - 'What do I actually want to get rid of?'. If I'm cutting this up, do I actually want to start to get rid of some of the song that's actually song, you know, that's actually structure? Am I throwing the baby out with the bathwater?'.







