Black Tape For A Blue Girl - Sam Rosenthal - Chamber gothic

The return to recording by Black Tape For A Blue Girl, seven years after their last album “10 Neurotics” (not counting the remixes on “Tenderotics” and the “clues” scattered across digital EPs over the last two years), gives us the chance to shine the spotlight once again on one of the most innovative and influential musical experiments in the post-wave field of the last thirty years. Sam Rosenthal's creation deserves credit for a long list of essential roles that, nearly three decades after its debut, can now be seen in a properly historical light. From coining the most emblematic paradigm of so-called ethereal-wave, to the profound and decisive neoclassical reworking of gothic aesthetics, to opening the door for an entire generation of American artists who would carry forward — largely under the protective wing of Rosenthal's own Projekt Records — the work begun on British soil by the 4AD standard-bearers in the early Eighties. A stylistic, sonic and aesthetic reference point that Rosenthal has built by surrounding himself with a veritable “orchestra” of collaborators, revised and refined from album to album, capable of giving the project its distinctive choral breadth, all while keeping a firm and constant grip on the reins of the act. It's a body of work whose legacy lies chiefly in a discography brimming with treasures — live appearances have been extremely rare, especially in recent years — including the historic trilogy made up of “As One Aflame Laid Bare By Desire”, “The Scavenger Bride” and the masterpiece “Remnants Of A Deeper Purity”, the true creative summa of the project and its sonic exploration. After a couple of albums pointing toward new directions (the stripped-down dream-wave expressionism of “Halo Star”, the pure dark-cabaret of the aforementioned “10 Neurotics”), the new “These Fleeting Moments” marks a comeback to the lush, sacral gothic atmospheres that, from “A Chaos Of Desire” through the trilogy mentioned above, formed the essence of the Black Tape sound — revisited here with a new compositional organicity and an entirely new connecting thread: delicacy. We discussed this and much more with Sam Rosenthal in the interview that follows.

So here we are, talking about the new Black Tape For A Blue Girl album after a full seven years. That's really a long time, isn't it? It's certainly the longest gap ever between two Black Tape albums. Why did the new record take so long to complete? And what have you been working on during these years?

I could pull out all sorts of excuses (work, fatherhood, not having a recording studio, the decline of the music industry), but the biggest reason is procrastination, fueled by my dissatisfaction with how the industrial music scene has changed over the last decade. I was genuinely worn down by the shift from an audience that buys music to an audience that, in most cases, gets it for free. At a certain point I asked myself, "what's even the point of making music?" I have all the skills needed to write music, and I could have gotten past the studio situation, but in practice I just wasn't mentally motivated.

So what made you change your mind?

As an artist, I had to adapt to the environment and find whatever would allow me to keep making art. Every artist has lived through a decade of declining sales, which to me translates into an audience that doesn't care about what you're creating. In the end, after thinking about it for a long time and reading about what other artists were doing, I decided that maybe I was using the wrong yardstick for success. Measuring it by earnings and sales isn't accurate anymore these days. I think there are actually far more people listening to my music now than before — they just don't pay for it. Of course that's a bit absurd, since this is still supposed to be a business. So changing the whole metric of success feels strange. And I know that for every artist, the drain of money out of the industry makes it hard to create art. I started a Kickstarter campaign, which put me in touch with people who actually cared about my music. Their enthusiasm and dedication allowed for a personal connection with the audience, and showed me there really was a desire for me to make more music. Three years ago I moved here to Portland, Oregon. For the first time in six years I had room for a home studio, so I started composing again. I met Nick (Nick Shadow, ed.), a great viola player here in town. We worked together on the songs that ended up on the album. I could picture all those strings over electronic backdrops, like on “A Chaos Of Desire” or “Remnants Of A Deeper Purity”. That pushed me to keep working in that direction.

On one hand, “These Fleeting Moments” really does feel like a return to the almost "classic" Black Tape sound. A track like "The Vastness Of Time", for instance, easily brings to mind the dark, pagan, passionate symphonies of “Remnants Of A Deeper Purity”. Why did you feel the need to revisit those sounds?

Honestly, those are the sounds fans like the most. Give the people what they want! They're also sounds I love a great deal myself; I think “Remnants Of A Deeper Purity”, “As One Aflame Laid Bare By Desire” and “The Scavenger Bride” complement each other, cast from the same mold. But after that last album, from 2002, I felt the need to shake things up and try something different; the following two albums had more of a rock edge. So now I'm continuing to explore music that's more languid, melancholic, spacious. Though there are also several shorter acoustic tracks, to give the album some balance.

What can you tell us about Oscar Herrera's return? His voice has undoubtedly left its mark on the classic Black Tape sound, which comes fully back to life in some of the new tracks. How much did his return influence your decision to reach so far back into your past, and how much did the project itself play a part in convincing him to sing again after 17 years of silence?

I asked him fairly early on if he wanted to collaborate. I'd already written maybe half the album, and there were a couple of songs where I thought his voice would sound great, so I asked him if he wanted to take part. Once he said "yes", I wrote more songs suited to his style. I think what convinced him to commit to singing again was the sense that "the time was right". He had an attitude like "why not do it again?" You know, a lot of the album is about looking at your own life, seeing where you've ended up, seeing what unfinished business remains. For me, having Oscar sing on my records again was something I'd always hoped for, for a long time. So the point was to return to something that had ended too soon. I think life offers choices, and you can't dwell too long on what's lost when something new comes along. You have to make new choices and keep living, day by day. When Oscar left in 1999, new opportunities opened up. Even moving across the country from Brooklyn to Portland recently was a chance for a fresh start — a chance to do something unexpected.

An important shift revealed by the album has to do with the lyrics and their poetry. While “10 Neurotics” was mostly focused on perversion, with a raw, direct style, many of the new songs instead approach a kind of existentialism with a particularly delicate touch. This is also very different from the allegorical, metaphorical style of “Remnants Of A Deeper Purity” or “As One Aflame Laid Bare By Desire”. Was this a deliberate choice, or the natural consequence of your inspiration over these years? What are the main themes you explore throughout the album?

I'd say a lot of the themes have to do with asking yourself how committed you are to living your life fully — with no longer hiding from yourself. Sometimes that comes out in an existentialist way, and other times it might be a song about a relationship that went wrong, which also asks whether we're making the most of our potential. “10 Neurotics” was an album that intentionally set out to document certain characters and their particular life choices. It was an album told from an outside point of view, for the most part not about me directly (even though I wrote all the songs in the first person). This album, on the other hand, is much more intimate, because I am — or have been — in the same situations as these characters. For example, I went on a date with someone who ran a bike shop ("Bike Shop"). Even though the story told is mostly fictional, in the "Absolute Zero" section there's still the idea that I would keep searching for the smallest glimmer of hope just to keep going. That's definitely true of me. I went on a date with Holly, who I sing about in "One Promised Love". I imagined what she might have felt in her past relationships. And when we talked after I'd written the lyrics, it turned out I'd been pretty accurate in imagining how she felt about betraying herself in order to hold on to love.

Delicacy is a word that came to mind often while listening to this album, and it's a new quality we've never associated with your music before. In fact, we might describe it as "the most delicate Black Tape album ever", perhaps picking "She Ran So Far Away That She No Longer Can Be Found" as the emblem of that mood. I imagine this feeling is tied above all to the arrangements, which are truly a distinctive trait of the album. Would you agree? Where does this new stylistic trait come from?

I'd tell you "I've become a better musician over the last 10 years." I still don't know anything about music theory. But I think I can represent my ideas better now. "10 Neurotics" was the first time I really noticed it: while I was composing and recording the music, I felt like I could actually achieve exactly the piece I wanted. In the past, I'd often just settle for, "well, this is the best I can do, let's go with it, I'll throw on some reverb and call it done." (laughs) On "She Ran So Far Away", I recorded the piano first. Then I added the other elements. I knew I wanted drums and heavier guitars, so I brought in Brian's parts (Brian Viglione, ed.), and our new member Chase polished the song up. He also added that repeated closing section. Then I wrote a few words to bring it to a proper close. It was the last thing I wrote for the album: the lyric that Dani (Danielle Herrera, ed.) sings. It felt like the song needed resolution. The song also had to lead into the final track. It's something uplifting, that carries you all the way to the end. And yet, alongside that rising emotion, there's still sadness and confusion. We humans can hold these really complex emotions mixed together all at once. I'd say "delicacy" here isn't just one single, straightforward feeling. Not like anger, or resolve. It's a whole lot of emotions in conflict with one another.

Can you tell us something about the instruments? You've surely kept many of the synthesizers you've used for years, right? But there are also a lot of acoustic instruments that at times become the real protagonists…

Oh yes, I still use the same synthesizers. Though I did pick up a new module, recommended to me by Steve Roach. It sounds a bit 70s, and it pairs really well with the Moog I've had since the early 80s. On the track "Affinity" I dusted off the Poly-61 that I'd already used on the album "Ashes In The Brittle Air". I really wanted to bring back that typical late-80s Black Tape sound. Still, one thing about this album that's very much my own is letting the instruments be heard. The early albums were drenched in effects, which blurred everything together a bit. But on "These Fleeting Moments", you can hear the different parts distinctly, and I like that. Sometimes they become fluid and flow together, and other times they stand out individually. One of the hardest things for me as a musician has been doing things "sparsely". Not filling up every space. I love how "Affinity" and "Bike Shop" let the instruments and the voice stand bare. Not perfect, not overly polished. I think there's a lot of diversity and movement in that which I really like.

We've read in a lot of reviews and articles about this album a constant reference to another word, “nostalgia.” The sense in which it's used is understandable, something like “a nostalgic return to the past,” but I couldn't detect any nostalgia in the songs. Also, some of them – like “Limitless,” “She's Gone,” or “Zug Koln” – partly remind me of things from albums like “Halo Star” and “10 Neurotics,” where you were dealing with that raw expressionism you later labeled “dark-cabaret.” So, where does this album really stand in Black Tape's long journey? How much are these songs actually linked to your past, and how much do they look through it toward a “new present”?

Well, no, I wouldn't say I worked with the emotion of “nostalgia” in the lyrics, or even in the sound. I wasn't trying to make a soft return to 1996. The album actually sounds very current, I think, and it deals with the emotions of someone living through their 40s or 50s. These are the questions you ask yourself in the “second half of life,” as Jung called it. I don't know how much this album connects to “10 Neurotics.” Because there was a huge gap between the two; there's really very little in the music that links them. “Limitless” is a bit more like an 80s goth song. “She's Gone” is probably influenced more by Neil Young than anything else, while I designed “Zug Koln” to sound like Popul Vuh, if nothing else. Even though people say it's Celtic, which I don't get (laughs). It's built to have a heavy, driving kraut-rock sound. Erik Wøllo plays a fantastic electric guitar on that track.

Black Tape For A Blue Girl have always had an autobiographical nature in many respects, especially in the lyrics and moods. In a way, every album and every song reflects something of your ego: traces of life, feelings, emotions, passions, perversions. We're fairly certain “These Fleeting Moments” has an incredible variety of these elements—we'd even say it's the most varied Black Tape album ever in terms of mood and style. Maybe simply because the songs span the longest stretch of time ever covered by a Black Tape album. If you had to sum it up, what kind of period was it for you?

I don't see it as a summary of that seven-year period, since all the songs were written in the last two years, except for the guitar parts on “She's Gone,” which are five years old. It might look like a summary from the outside, because of all my procrastinating! (laughs) But of course, yes, almost every line here is something that's been on my mind. Just as every character in a story is in some way a reflection of the author.

Let me take a random line from the booklet: ⟦Q1⟧. I think it's absurd that people believe “god” is out there, pointing a finger at humanity and smiling, saying, “Yes, you're the chosen ones.” Humanity is just a random stroke of luck, and our species has the same odds of extinction as any other. People have messed up the world because they hold this selfish belief in their own personal worth and purpose. What if god were actually a fan of the Javan tiger instead?

Another line: ⟦Q2⟧. Maybe intelligence is overrated. Just as people's faith is overrated when they think there's something special about their religion, their country, their idea of sexuality. All our beliefs are just human constructs, with no basis in reality. Which we're not even able to understand anyway.

⟦Q3⟧. I don't feel this sense of unworthiness every day, but I think a lot of us feel at least a reflexive pang of guilt when a relationship ends. We question everything, even our own selves.

⟦Q4⟧. The very idea that a person could be special and more important than everyone else is honestly a bit absurd. Love is a kind of positive madness: someone suddenly becomes more important than every other human being. To a large extent it's a projection of one's own ego. And we have to come to terms with that initial madness, to see if it can become a love that lasts. In a way, it ties back to the desert rat-kangaroo (“Desert Rat-Kangaroo,” ed.). To the idea that we're special and deserve something special. Don't get me wrong, I'm a big believer in love. In being in love. In loving people. I try to do my best, and I try to accept people as they are, knowing I have flaws just as they have flaws. But the idea that someone you didn't even know a year ago suddenly becomes the most important person in the world? That seems a bit absurd to me.

Over these seven years you've worked on a few side projects, like the latest one under the moniker As Lonely As Dave Bowman and that wonderful record you released under your own name (“The Passage”). Could you tell us how much these instrumental projects served as laboratories to evolve ideas for the Black Tape project? Is there anything that might link “These Fleeting Moments” to those other works?

Those were diversions, let's say. A way to keep dealing with music without having to commit to the hard work of making a new Black Tape For A Blue Girl album. But the connection to “These Fleeting Moments” lies in the fact that I brought more instrumental music back into Black Tape. I realized I had completely stripped it out of “10 Neurotics,” apart from the intro to “The Perfect Pervert.” So I decided to bring it back. Not music like Dave Bowman or “The Passage.” But instrumental music that's more in the Black Tape style, including the tracks with Nick's wonderful viola. Or Mark Seelig's flute on “Meditation On The Skeleton.” I feel like Nick and I still have a lot of cool stuff to create together. I want to make more of it.

Of course, you'll have also spent a lot of your time running Projekt Records. During our last interview for As Lonely As Dave Bowman, we had a great chat, but we noticed that since then you've focused a lot on ambient releases. If I'm not mistaken, the last “darkwave-type” release from Projekt was “Here And The Hereafter” by Mirabilis. Then this year you released a new album by Mercury's Antennae. Does this trend follow a specific stylistic choice? Or is it more of a “commercial” necessity, perhaps?

To be honest, it's a commercial choice. As you know, it's really hard to sell music these days. People prefer streaming and don't spend money. Steve Roach's releases keep selling. Erik Wøllo's sell too. So I focus my schedule on what people will still spend money on. That said, Voltaire's five releases on Projekt keep selling extremely well. He keeps gaining new fans who then get interested in his older music. That's why he's going to put out a new record on Projekt (early 2017, I believe). But generally speaking, it's almost impossible to sell small underground goth bands, or for that matter, even smaller electronic projects. Projekt has been my life since 1991. So I'm not saying “it's over.” I keep finding ways to make it work financially, and to support myself and my son. But like a lot of other musicians who started their own labels, I'm scaling everything down and taking more time to work on my art.

By the way, why did you decide to release “These Fleeting Moments” through Metropolis Records? I assume it's the first Black Tape album in 30 years not to come out on Projekt, right?

Yes, that's true, it's the first one in America not to come out on Projekt. In the past, Trisol (alongside Projekt) released two albums for Europe, a Russian label put one out, and a Mexican one put out another. That was a long time ago. But the answer to your first question? I thought I'd try putting something out in the US through Metropolis to see what would change with a different label. Just to get a sense of what possibilities it could offer.

Speaking of business, what's the current state of Projekt? And have you had any experience with streaming services like Spotify or Deezer, which we think are squeezing out space for non-commercial music “business”?

I actually have some data on this very thing. Projekt does earn something from Spotify and YouTube. It works better for the bigger names, like Voltaire. But it still adds a little something to the revenue. And while it might be easy to be a purist and say “No” to streaming, the fact is that choice would mean even less money earned by Projekt's artists. And I don't think it's healthy to deny them that income. I don't know if you've seen this, but streaming recently came to account for 40% of the entire US music industry! Even though I'm not happy with the cut that YouTube or Spotify pay in royalties, I certainly can't change that situation by complaining or by shutting off Projekt's music. I'm just one small voice. Let me say that loud and clear.

So, given what you're telling us about Spotify and similar platforms, we'd like to dig deeper into this topic.

Well first of all, I have to clarify that about 80% of Projekt's releases are available on Spotify, while 100% are on Apple Music. That's for the US — honestly, I don't know what the situation with Apple is like in Italy. 

If you're just one small lone voice against Spotify's royalty system, don't you think there's enough room and awareness among artists to band together and demand better treatment? Even with the backing of a few famous, mainstream “big names” with a large commercial fan base, to have a louder voice. In your opinion, what would be the difficulties of such a collective action?

It's a losing battle. Spotify will pay whatever it pays, because the majors are fine with those percentages. Why? I think it's because the majors own shares in Spotify and are looking to profit from the IPO of its stock. But on the other hand, Spotify isn't a profitable business. So how could they pay higher amounts they don't currently have? Maybe if Spotify made more money, they could pay artists more. But I wouldn't bet on it.

Still, even with their issues, Spotify and Deezer might be just the key to shrinking the peer-to-peer market. Our take is that the choice comes down to illegally downloading music or listening to it freely through streaming (even with a bit of advertising thrown in). Do you agree, or do you think music piracy won't be affected much, while the CD and vinyl market will just keep becoming less profitable?

As for illegal downloading programs – that's already happened, as far as pirate sites are concerned. These days, I find only 5% of the music that was being shared on pirate sites just a few years ago. People prefer the easier “free” method of streaming. And having said that, streaming at least pays artists a few cents. So people feel like they're doing the right thing. As for CDs and paid downloads, streaming is killing them. Within a few years, CDs will be just for collectors, and nobody will download music digitally anymore. So while streaming might help kill off piracy, it's also killing off what little income is left in the record market. Vinyl is doing fairly well, and it generates a decent cut for every record sold. But it won't save the music industry.

In 2006, when Radiohead released “In Rainbows“, Geoff Barrow of Portishead said that bands who put their music online (for instance streaming it on MySpace, on Bandcamp, offering it as a free download from their sites, or with a pay-what-you-want model, as Radiohead themselves did at first) risk vanishing like a soap bubble (source). That's because not every band can afford to do something like that: such platforms can only help so much, and word of mouth online doesn't reach the same scale as the full support a record label can provide. In the end, the financial backing and promotion of labels will still be necessary. If it's a famous, successful band like Radiohead doing it (or Trent Reznor, who did the same afterwards), that's one thing, but if it's a small, relatively unknown independent band doing it, that's a completely different story. What's more, Radiohead later went back to regular stores anyway, perhaps because the “pay-what-you-want” model wasn't successful and they had to backtrack. Do you agree?

Well, Trent went back to a major too. Why? The fact is that (as you say) these bands on their own don't have all the publicity staff that a major can provide. When I was in Prague some years back, I saw posters on telephone poles for John Cale's “Hobosapiens”. There was a major in Prague putting up those posters. Trent Reznor on his own doesn't do that. So it's simple business logic to work with a company with a global reach, if a band can get a deal. It's a matter of scale. Projekt doesn't have a large staff all over the world. So there are times when it makes sense to offer music by letting the public choose how much to pay for it; it helps spread the word and bring in a little cash. I think artists should use every possible channel to spread their music: experiment to see what works with their audience. Why refuse to do something that might work for your band?

What projects will you be working on now that the new album is out? Is there any hope of seeing Black Tape return to play some shows?

I think there's zero chance of a live show. It's simply not affordable to put one on, lose money, and not be able to pay the rest of the band. I don't intend to ask them to do something like that, nor myself. Instead, I plan to work on new music. I've already started four new songs. I was thinking about what I could put into the lyrics. Then I'll record the singers, and the other musicians. My idea is to finish them by the new year, and then release a digital EP. In this new streaming world, bands like mine need to stay active, put out a lot of music. I'd like to release a few EPs, take some of these songs along with other unreleased ones, and put together the next album. I'm hoping for the end of 2017.

Black Tape's first album was born in 1986. This new one arrives in 2016, marking the 30th anniversary of an extraordinary saga. Looking back on the whole journey Black Tape has taken, what are you most proud of? And with hindsight, is there anything you would change or do differently?

For me, it's easier to say what I would have changed, so I'll answer that first. In 1996, when Black Tape For A Blue Girl was the #1 name at Projekt, I would have put more energy into the band. I would have written and recorded more music. That would have meant releasing fewer records with other bands. But it would have been better for my soul to focus on my art and keep Black Tape steadily in that #1 spot. I let other things take up my time. Including having a child in 2002. I don't regret it. I'm just saying I would have done things differently. As for what I'm proud of? The albums I still like listening to. I don't get all that excited about playing live, or listening to old shows. I know they hold a special place for fans, but it's the recorded music that will keep on living.

To wrap up this interview, we'd like to ask you to pick the three Black Tape albums you're most satisfied with, and your personal top 5 from Projekt's catalogue. We'd also simply like to ask what, in your opinion, are the most important “dark” albums (in the broadest sense of the word) that you'd recommend to new listeners.

Oh man, that's hard! I'll just fire off answers quickly, without overthinking it. Black Tape: “These Fleeting Moments”, “Remnants Of A Deeper Purity”, “A Chaos Of Desire”. Projekt: Voltaire – “The Devil's Bris”, Steve Roach – “Structures From Silence”, O Yuki Conjugate – “Peyote”, Mira – “Mira”, Android Lust – “The Dividing”. There are plenty more, but you said five. It's hard to pick favorites among all of it.

For the second question, I can tell you which albums I like to listen to, but I won't say whether one is significant, or the most important to hear. I haven't listened to much of what would show up on the usual "top 10 goth albums" lists. I might have a few odd suggestions that could seem irrelevant to you. I think "Mother Fist" by Marc Almond and his five daughters is an album worth hearing. Also "Armageddon Gigolo" by Spiritual Front. Then "The Devil's Bris" by Voltaire. "Desert Shore" by Nico. "Faith" by the Cure. But these are just my personal picks!

Thank you, Sam!

Chamber Gothic

by Mauro Roma

This lengthy interview comes after years spent vainly chasing down the creator of one of the most compelling musical sagas of recent decades, that of Black Tape For A Blue Girl: but the time Sam Rosenthal has now granted OndaRock – deep as he is in his ever-growing number of musical projects and running his label Projekt Records – for this wide-ranging chat comes at a very intense moment for the American artist. In fact, right now, while awaiting the new album expected early next year, Black Tape are releasing an anthology and a new digital-only EP made up of Sonic Youth covers! At the same time, Rosenthal is debuting with the first album from his new band, Revue Noir, built around his latest fixation, “dark cabaret”.

Sam, as a new career-spanning anthology of your band Black Tape For A Blue Girl comes out, you're getting ready to finish the new studio album, and you've recently celebrated the 200th release on your label, Projekt Records. It's really been a long road for you, both as a musician and as a label manager. Tell us your impressions of the years that have passed since you started this double adventure.
That's right, the first Black Tape For A Blue Girl album, “The Rope”, came out in 1986; the new one, “Ten Neurotics”, will be out soon, almost twenty-three years later. In that long span of time an awful lot has changed in the underground music scene. My feelings about it are mixed. I feel a strong desire to keep a solid bond with the fans of my music, I really care about sensing their passion and their interest in what I manage to create. In that sense I don't think the internet has really made things more “personal”, and it hasn't really brought people closer together. I feel like there are a lot of friends of mine out there whom I actually know nothing about. On the other hand, as the manager of a record label, I think there really is an incredible amount of great music out there, and easily available. New cross-pollinations, if not outright new genres (I'm thinking of what I call “dark cabaret”), so many new and exciting things to listen to.

Listening back to them now, from a distance, what do you think of the albums you've made so far with Black Tape?  And what can you tell us about the upcoming new album?
The old albums… each one of them feels like centuries have gone by… as if they'd been made by someone else, in a distant, different era. Listening back to them, I mostly feel what any fan would feel, I mean: music I truly love listening to, and which undeniably calls back certain moments of my life. Those records were naturally a part of who I am. Of the old albums my favourite is still “Mesmerized By The Sirens” (1987), because I think that's the album where I started to feel satisfied with what I was creating, that's where the songs began coming out the way I wanted to hear them.
As for the next album, “10 Neurotics”, right now I have seven songs already finished. The album is about the people I met after my divorce, which happened a few years ago. Interesting, odd, perverse people. So far there are seven new songs, the musical parts are complete and I'm putting the finishing touches on the lyrics. For this album I decided to do something totally new: I bought an acoustic guitar, and for the first time it's with that instrument that I wrote all the songs. It's a genuinely exciting new thing for me, it lets me do things that really sound new and fresh. There's nothing making me think “oh, but I've already done this!”.

You've often described yourself as a “non-musician”, borrowing the term coined by Brian Eno. Do you still think that today? Is it purely instinct and passion that guide you while writing your songs?
Well, actually, after all these years I think I could call myself a musician, if only because I do create… music! Sure, I don't know the fundamental structures and traditional compositional processes, but I still write songs. For me it all starts when I find that pair of chords that stirs up a particular emotion in me. I work on it, I start recording it, and I slowly build on top of it. For me the lyrics always come after the song has taken shape. I find that the music itself suggests them to me, and it's up to me to find the right ideas that work with the emotions the music conveys. I just finished working on the lyrics for a song called “Love Of The Father,” which is about a man who never received love from his father. The man sees himself as a boy, confusedly suffering from the lack of paternal affection, and then sees himself again as an adult, reflecting on how his father's absence shaped his life.

How has your approach to Black Tape's music changed since the line-up of musicians backing you changed? I'm referring in particular to new singer Bret Helm, and to how much his presence – and the departure of Black Tape's longtime singer, Oscar Herrera – has influenced the way you write your songs.
I write songs, and only afterwards do I decide which singer is best suited to perform it. This is especially true of the new album, where I wanted to write the songs without really having any idea in mind about who would end up singing them. Oscar and Bret have completely different styles, and I find it's always an exciting challenge to work around the abilities of my musicians.

You recently formed a new band, called Revue Noir, together with singer Nicki Jaine. A band influenced by that particular genre which you yourself were the first to define as “dark cabaret”. I understand Revue Noir's debut album, titled “Anthology Archive”, has just come out — what can you tell us about it?
I met Nicki at a Christmas party thrown by the Middle Pillar label back in 2003. I was talking with some friends when I noticed this beautiful girl walk into the house. Shortly after, she got up on stage and performed a few of her own songs, which impressed me right away. We stayed in touch and became very close friends, so when I was putting together the “Halo Star” tour in 2004, I asked her if she wanted to join the band. Since then Nicki has played guitar and piano, as well as singing, with Black Tape.
The following year I got divorced from my wife, and Nicki was really there for me, she became a truly close friend. We started talking about the possibility of making music together, and that's how the Revue Noir project was born. We worked on the songs for “Anthology Archive” for about a year. She's an exceptionally talented performer, and I found it a lot of fun working on something different from my usual stuff, for once. I think that experience also made me a better musician, because I wasn't working with electronics, but with live arrangements and instruments.

How have your musical tastes evolved over the years, and what are your favourite bands right now?
My favourite bands among the “new” ones are without a doubt Spiritual Front and ROME. I couldn't even tell you what genre they belong to. Not quite neofolk and not quite pop. But I really love what these bands do. I'm also very fond of Lux Interna (American neofolk group, ed.), so I think you can get an idea of what I'm into right now. I like Nicki Jaine and Sigur Ros, and I've discovered a new artist from Brooklyn called Curtis Eller. Try listening to some of his stuff, it's really great!

So you're a big fan of Spiritual Front! Do you also like other Italian bands?
I find Spiritual Front truly extraordinary. I've always been a huge fan of Marc Almond, especially during his time with Marc & The Mambas. That sound was so seedy and dissolute. Spiritual Front come from that very same world. Their stuff is truly incredible! Among Italian artists, I'm also very fond of All My Faith Lost.

In your view, does it still make sense to talk about a “goth” scene, in the sense that term used to have for great artists like Rozz Williams or Faith & The Muse? Personally I think today there's the chance to blend many genres in interesting ways, but I don't think these are still times for a “pure” expression of a specific genre the way gothic rock once was. What do you think?
Yes, I understand what you mean. There really aren't any “pure” sounds and genres left, that's true… but I think it's also only natural that after fifteen-plus years things have changed to the point where by now you can mix and cross-pollinate anything with anything. I love the artists you mentioned, but I don't think Black Tape ever really made “goth” music in the strict sense, because we've never had a bass-and-guitars line-up, we were never imitators of Bauhaus, to give an example. I think it's much more interesting when a musical genre knows how to grow, evolve and change.

I really enjoyed your album released under the name “As Lonely As Dave Bowman“, an album that reflects your deep love for ambient sounds and for kosmische musik. Why did you want to make this record, how did the idea come about?
The photographs you see in that album's artwork were taken, just for fun, by my son Sasha, when he was four years old. I liked them a lot! Later on, more or less as a joke, I suggested to Steve Roach that maybe he could use those photos for one of his album covers. But then I thought, “wait a minute! Why don't I make an album myself, inspired by those images?”. And that's really how the idea came about. I used the name “Dave Bowman” in the title because he's the astronaut from the film “2001: A Space Odyssey”, which happens to be my son's favourite film. Musically, I wanted to make a fully electronic album, made of cold, distant sounds. With no “natural” element at all, except for the human emotion that I myself put into making it. The album doesn't have a single “played” instrument, almost everything was done by processing and manipulating loops and feedback. It was great to do this during a period when I was only writing songs (for Black Tape or Revue Noir), to step away and spend some time hunting for interesting sounds. It's been a record very warmly received by the fans. At a Steve Roach show in Philadelphia a lot of people came up to me and said wonderful things about the album. That made me really happy.

Projekt Records has always stood out for the many talented artists it has hosted, I'm thinking of Steve Roach himself, of Lycia, Attrition, Mira, and This Ascension. What do you consider the most important moments in the label's twenty-five-year history? And which artists do you consider most representative of it?
I think the release of Lycia's album “Ionia” in 1991 was a fundamental milestone. An outstanding album, the peak of the label's early period. Then I'd count as important moments the release of Voltaire's “The Devil's Bris” and Mira's “Apart”, and more recently the releases by Tearwave. And then there's the pride of hosting an artist like Steve Roach, whose catalogue is extraordinary — with his releases you can always be sure of what you're getting. I'm also very proud to have reissued some of his past masterpieces, like “Structures From Silence”, “Dreamtime Return” and “Empetus”.

I've noticed in recent years an ever-growing number of releases from Projekt. A sign of your label's success. Do you think yours is an exception in such a delicate time for independent labels? What do you think about the shift from the traditional "physical" format to the digital format?
You see, first of all I don't believe you can call yourself a "fan" of a band if you steal their music through illegal downloading. If you love music, you have to BUY music, and I say this both as a musician and as a label manager. All independent artists need to buy their instruments, rent a studio, and maybe even set something aside just to be able to eat! If people get their music illegally, they're hurting the very people they claim to love. Okay, that was my anti-illegal-download rant.
As for Projekt's success... let's say I've learned to survive in this crushing music business by putting out great music for an audience of real fans. Sales have actually dropped compared to ten years ago, but now I'm much more careful about managing expenses. So I keep the label going and try to make it grow. It saddens me to think that digital is the first sign of the death of the "album", and of artwork! But we all have to be realistic about what audiences want today. So paid downloads are now an important part of our revenue. That's actually a good thing, though, because artists make more money from digital album sales than from selling the "physical" CD.

Musician, producer, manager: and you're also known as a passionate political commentator. What can you tell us about the current situation, both internationally and in your own country?
Yes, I'm a real politics fan. I stayed home every night to watch the Democratic convention on TV. Very interesting stuff. I'm convinced that Americans need to wake up and realize how George W. Bush has destroyed this nation, both economically and in terms of its image and standing in the world. I hope America chooses a president whose priorities don't include going to war, selling out the country and its economy, and contributing to global climate disasters.
I want to be optimistic and think America is smarter than it's appeared over the last eight years. Just look at the statistics to understand how much Bush really was what Americans wanted, and how much support and approval Americans have given him. It would be the last straw, in this situation, to hand America over to McCain...

Back to music: are you still in touch with the band's former members, in particular singer Oscar Herrera?
I'm still in touch with Oscar, yes. He decided to step away from the music scene a few years ago, after wrapping up his solo project, El Duende. Every now and then I keep asking him to come back and sing for Black Tape, and I'll keep trying — maybe sooner or later I'll convince him! I absolutely love his voice on my songs. His intensity, his willingness to give everything of himself and bring all the passion and drama that's needed. As I said before, I love the vicious, tragic atmospheres of Marc Almond and Spiritual Front. And Oscar was particularly good at bringing that kind of interpretation to my lyrics, something about him I adored and found truly thrilling. If you listen to the song "Tell Me You've Taken Another," (from the album "As One Aflame Laid Bare By Desire"), you'll understand what I mean.

Do you have plans for a new tour with Black Tape? Will we ever see you in Italy?
I should say "no", but I won't, because you never know. I'd certainly love to play in Italy, but honestly I can't afford to go on tour and lose money. If some promoter in Italy came forward with serious offers, we could discuss it and see if it's doable. For two years in a row we were invited to the WGT festival in Germany, but I never saw an offer good enough to justify bringing my band all the way to Germany. Honestly, with a six-year-old son who needs me, I'm at a point in my life where I can't afford to lose money just to play a show. I deserve a bit of respect too, don't I?! (laughs)

Okay Sam, that's it, thank you so much for your time and your answers. Any final words for your Italian readers...
Yes! I've always had a special bond with Italy, ever since way back in 1988, when a fanzine included Black Tape on a compilation that, if I remember correctly, was called "Tight In Your Arms Tonight". I have friends in Florence who can't wait for me to come visit again. I can't wait for "10 Neurotics" to come out, and I hope it's the same for you. If so, visit blacktapeforabluegirl.com and sign up for my new mailing list... And pray that Barack wins! Thank you, with all my affection.

Ride the wave of great music

Add OndaRock to your favorite sources on Google Discover. Don't miss our reviews, milestones and latest news straight in your feed.

Follow on Google