Thirteen Senses - London, UK, Spring 2004
By: Samantha Hall
Whichever way it's spun, hopelessly, the young and inexperienced are often perceived as the unaware and naive.
Yet, why? The question becomes ever more pertinent especially when addressing the validity of craftsmanship in making music - in expression through art: why should purity of heart be scoffed at? The ideal, the clarity and lucidity of soul that everyone, if not with time and learning, aspires to have - why should innocence of the heart reflect in people's minds as incorruptibility and blamelessness? Surely, real purity of heart is exactly that - an existent, honest and genuine essence. Nothing to do with a tarnished plate, or as Nana used to warn us, 'dirty washing'.
If Thirteen Senses were an 'urban act' (please notice the disdainful use for the word 'urban' - thanks, Wiley) from the darkest, dingiest Yardie ghettoes of Montego Bay, then no-one would bat an eyelid. The scene would admire the label for such bravado; honour them for seeking out such authenticity and for their bravery in taking such a risk, such a chance on some act so raw, so pure of heart, so '4 rEal'. Thirteen Senses of the melodic, pastoral emotional indie-'hood', however, are about as '4 rEal' as you get.
Their vast, sweeping, elevated melodies have been created in a world where waves really do crash against the rocks beneath you as you mourn the departure of your pet hamster Mr Biggles, or a lover, or a missed opportunity, a burning ambition...
Their lives have been subject to genuine experience; environmental habitat (Cornwall, UK) ruling over their creating, their thought-processes, the direct experiences themselves. So what their lungs aren't polluted with six million taxis' worth of smog and their wits not ground down from the monotonous daily trudge on crammed tube lines. Their spirits haven't been coldened by the dismissal of the same tramp pulling at your pockets every afternoon.
And this is why after a massively heated A'n'R scramble, initiated at their very hometown Bunters Bar in Truro, the gents were won to Mercury's Vertigo. From desolate Penzance they were imported to the Capital to start recording for the first time in an established studio, with a more than competent desk-host.
'It was mad, the Truro thing - scary. Unheard of situation - no-one ever leaves London, well, not for Cornwall anyway. Thirty-five of them (record-label execs) turned up. Stood on same levels as us, so all we saw was row after row of people looking dead serious and not clapping. All amongst our friends, who were going crazy - they were really analysing the whole set-up. Good, though - we played really well... obviously ended in a nice result,' bubbles guitarist Tom.
And before the eager arrival of the city bruisers?
Brendon starts off:
'Our first load of gigs were in local pubs in Cornwall. Low lights in a corner, people would be like, 'Turn it down - people are trying to drink in here!' Think the record audience was five.'
Adam retorts - 'Yeah - us and the bar-lady!'
'It was difficult,' Tom reminisces. 'We were one of the small cluster of original bands trying to gig out there. There were no venues to take bands. It's all pubs with nice, lenient corners. There was no PA - we had to hire all the gear. When you're 17, you're not making a lot - you'd play the gig, get your money and then someone would remind you that you owe eight-hundred quid or something straight away.'
And what a far cry from their homeland of simple performances in Penzance to where they're sitting now: this, their second ever only interview, squeezed in between testing tracks for their album with Mr Danton 'Coldplay' Supple, in not exactly the shabbiest studio in the Capital. For a music maestro of such prestige and reputation to be involved in such a blossoming, budding project as Thirteen must be awe-inspiring - certainly flattering:
'We sent demos up and he really loved it - he approached us. You know, he's done Starsailor, Electric Soft Parade... we met him and were like, 'Yeah, he's the man for the job,' Adam peeps.
Tom nods along: 'Couldn't have been better; it was by no means 'Oh, the Coldplay man, come here.' Just he appreciates the basic ideas of our music. He's a funny bloke... instantly puts across how much he knows about music. We were talking over demos and he was just getting really excited and was bubbling over with ideas.'
Indeed, studio-time has certainly developed from their time Cornwall-bound, where, as in the case of any new band, you get in, pound away, and get out quickly to avoid undesirable financial ramifications. However, Vertigo are well aware of their investment and have given the band the space, time, moolah and support they need to make them that top seller. Thirteen Senses, after all, are maybe the most anticipated, coveted new band of the year; the possible follow-up to Danton's other most famed project...? That can only be hoped for.
From the eyes and ears of those who haven't investigated further, however, the concern of being bracketed into the current popular Keane category seems a distinct possibility; they muster piano-heavy, sweet-sounding warblings, which bear, in theory (and as Keane have clearly demonstrated practice), the potential to gain musical credibility on the underground Brit-rock circuit and 'Chart-Faves' CD-section of the nation's supermarket-shelves alike.
'Yeah, you could definitely place us in a similar genre, but pick out bits that are very different with us. We have a bit of edge; we didn't make a band inspired by Keane's popularity. We're different. It's good to see this genre growing and dominating for a while,' Tom encourages.
'... You know, the whole rock revolution. Dance music has dominated for so long. It's great that rock's now steam-rolling away,' Adam chips in. 'But, the thing is, we'd never even heard of Keane till we came up here. Nothing for us to feed off when we writing down in Cornwall.'
Tom continues. 'We had no reference-points, only the big massive bands... it wasn't like we had a circuit, no aspiring bands to gig with, hang out. Just plodding along - doing our own thing.'
And so the isolated artists create this original, distinct form of epic composition. Supported and learned only of the world they know, the culture they understand and genuinely feel. The homes they've lived in all their lives (expect Adam - he, the reckless one, lived in Mancunian land till he was two). But that great sound - that great sentiment - that great beauty formats into what?
'We can never describe our sound. We just can't do it - (puts on schoolboy tone) well we have a guitar and it kinda goes twang de dum... God, and we use words like it's a bit... or kind of... rubbish words... nice, interesting.' They all guffaw simultaneously.
But categorisation isn't needed. Fresh and instantaneous living is theirs and that's what makes their music, and what makes them. Although this is the dream, the desire, in reality, very few bands can truly say they achieved this ultimate exchange - catharsis, escape, and subsequent notoriety, with their own creation.
Artists in this article: Thirteen Senses