CHRIS HEARN (aka Newcastle’s Alps) blubbers on about his new whale-themed record 'Alps of New South Whales'.

‘White Whale’

I’m not much for multi-tracking and usually only write and record songs that I can do live. This song is a bit of an exception. The beat is played at half speed through a Dictaphone into a 4-channel mixer, into which I also improvised an organ part with one hand while generating some sort of tonal microphone feedback and running it through a bunch of pedals with the other hand. The organ was meant to be a lot louder but the feedback ended up at the forefront of the track and was a beautiful melodic fluke. I wrote a song to go over the top of it and played some heavily distorted guitar and vocals. I cannot deny the influence of shoegazer recordings on the final mix.

‘Minke Whale’

I attempted to make a Portasound sound like a guitar in this song, although I’m not really a guitar person. I was going more for the Flying Saucer Attack guitar sound on their self-titled record. It worked to some degree. This is probably the best song I have ever written. If anyone was going to give a chance to just one song on the album I hope it would be this one. We shot a video for it last weekend, so you could probably check that out soon on the internet or something.

‘North Atlantic Right Whale’

This is my take on Kraftwerk using a Casiotone and a bunch of pedals. The stereo effect in this song is an attempt to represent semi-submersion, or a coming up for air of sorts, and it is positioned here on the album to serve that a similar purpose. If you listen to it in headphones and lie on your right hand side it might make this clearer.

‘Narwhal’

In case anyone didn’t get the joke, it’s called Narwhal because of the “nar nar nar” vocals at the end. I think I sing a bit off tune in the first half. I have never really sang before this song, instead atonally mumbling low in the mix. I heard someone rag on Sinead O’Connor once, saying that she wouldn’t have a career without reverb. I’ve started telling sound engineers to mix my vocals like Sinead O’Connor. Or Phil Collins’ drums. Actually I remind myself of Sting in the chorus. It almost has a white-reggae feel.

‘Beluga’

The white reggae continues. I actually spent four years of my childhood living in Papua New Guinea. PNG is like faux-Jamaica, in the same way the Australia is like faux-America, with all the bands dressing up as and sounding exactly the same as whatever is hip over there at the time (but I suppose in Jamaica reggae never goes out of fashion). In PNG there were two radio stations. One would play 100 percent reggae, and the other would play 50 percent reggae and 50 percent top 40. This was a vital part of my musical development, alongside discovering minimalist music. Parts of this album, and this track in particular are an expression of an equilibrium of the two. I just hope that that is out of my system now.

’Blue Whale’

This song and the following two songs, were recorded to half-inch tape in Minneapolis US, in the basement of a house that used to belong to Jimmy Jam. The magic of many Prince songs had been written and rehearsed in that house. His piano was still there, although the previous tenants had stripped it of ivory (presumably for junk money). My friend Josh Tibbetts of Neglected Receptors (who I had joined as an additional member for a brief stint of shows on the west coast in 2006) engineered the songs, and I borrowed some of his keyboards to get some different sounds. I usually play this song on the organ, but this recording is a lot crunchier, and I like that. The vocal is sung into a harmonica microphone, and sent through a tape echo.

“I think I lasted on tour for about 300 shows and 21 months non-stop, which really is a lot of borrowed towels and internet and dusty couches and bus seats and people who you would like to see again but probably never will.”

‘Goosebeak Whale’

I wrote this song in the basement of our jam house about half-an-hour before we recorded it. It took me three takes to get it right. I play one-handed keyboard and one-handed/two-footed drums. It’s pretty tricky and the drum arm gets pretty sore. I used to play drums in some punk bands a long time ago and I don’t get to play much anymore. I think there will be more live drums on the next record.

‘Bowhead Whale’

I think I wrote this song in 2006 after I sold all of my stuff keeping only a backpack’s worth, and planned to be a full-time musician and live nowhere. Its content is thematically similar to the fifth track on Alps of the World in which I claim that, “The whole world is my home”, yet with slightly more nihilistic overtones. I think I lasted on tour for about 300 shows and 21 months non-stop, which really is a lot of borrowed towels and internet and dusty couches and bus seats and people who you would like to see again but probably never will. Not surprisingly I am settled back down in Newcastle again, enrolled back i uni and just doing the odd show here and there. I did a stint in New Zealand last week, and I’m doing America again in January, but I don’t really think that living on the road forever is something desirable anymore. Despite the perhaps expired topical relevance, I still like this song enough to have included it on the album, and still play it in the odd set.

’South Atlantic Right Whale’

This track was originally recorded as a reprise of a classical piece that I composed for a film that was never made. It was supposed to be for the funeral scene. It’s pretty bummed out I guess. If someone wanted me to play at their funeral I would play this song. This version reminds me somehow of Tangerine Dream. They’re not very hip are they? Other un-cool influences on this album include Jean Michel Jarre, Laurie Anderson, and the solo works of Rick Wakeman.

‘Whalebone Whale’

This song is pretty fucking heavy and dark, it’s about as close to goth as I have come. I would like to come closer some day. I use the same set up on the keyboard as I do in ‘Minke Whale’, but when I was recording it I decided to layer a guitar over it as well. You can hear them both in the mix playing slightly different lines, like a bell chiming, but the best thing is that you can’t tell what’s keyboard and what’s guitar. This is the only song that I recorded using the same techniques that were used on the Alps of New South Wales album, although I used some pedals on the vocals. My favourite part of the song is the last third of the guitar/keyboard solo. I call it the “redemption” phrase. It portrays a feeling that is not completely detached from the melancholy of the first seven minutes of the song (and the rest of the album, I guess), but suggests either hope or triumph. Make of that what you will. I might have just melted cheese all over an otherwise good song.

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Alps of New South Whales is out now locally. It will be released in Europe in November through Beat is Murder Records.