Drew McDowall - An Electronic Symposium

Active in the late '70s in the art-punk trio Poems, alongside his ex-wife Rose McDowall, a member of the mighty Psychic TV during the '80s and an integral part of Coil for several years, Scottish artist Drew McDowall is one of those who succumbed to the lethal allure of modular synths and mysticism in its noblest sense. A post-industrial tailor who still enchants today with “Agalma”, his fourth solo album, which boasts collaborations with Kali Malone, Caterina Barbieri, Maralie Armstrong-Rial, Robert Lowe, Bashar Suleiman, Elvin Brandi and MSYLMA. We caught up with him from his beloved New York to hear about his latest shared experience.

In the “Symposium”, Plato says that agalma is what drives Alcibiades' love for Socrates. More broadly, agalma refers to something glittering. Why this title?

When I play live, I'm always looking for a specific feeling: being in a shared space to take part in a ritual with the audience. As I see it, a performance shouldn't be a one-way street from creator to recipient, but something everyone contributes to. I've tried to bring that into my albums - I think of all of them as ritual music - and I think “Agalma” is the most concrete expression of that goal. I liked the idea of a title that reflected a ritual offering but that also had its own physicality, rather than being an abstract concept.

Strings, piano, pipe organ and choral masses. In some movements, the music seems to give itself over to the sacred, only to desecrate it moments later. Do you agree that this alternation of moods is present in the record? Where exactly does it come from?

I'm glad you picked up on that shifting instability. The intent is to explore the sacred with a certain sense of unease. A sense of the sacred that holds its own contradictions and at the same time isn't negated by them, and doesn't try to resolve them. An idea of the sacred that is also terrifying, as well as beautiful and sublime.

I've been incredibly lucky to work with all the artists on this album. The process unfolded differently each time; with Kali Malone it was the result of long conversations we'd had, which led us to collaborate on something. She was one of the first people I reached out to before working on the new record. I sent her a couple of different pieces to choose from and she picked “Agalma V”, sending me shortly after an organ sonata of hers that she'd recorded in Stockholm, which I then manipulated by transferring it to tape and slowing it down so the tone and timbre would shift. In Caterina's music there's a quality I'd call elegiac, melancholic, attitudes I immediately identified with. “Agalma II” was the ideal score for her. She recorded her vocals in Milan, where she lives, and sent them to me. I was stunned into silence when I heard it, I couldn't speak for several minutes. I wanted to cry, it was all so beautiful. Maralie Armstrong-Rial's work, meanwhile, has fascinated me for a while now - both her solo output as Valise and her work as part of Humanbeast. She lives in New York, so I was able to physically bring her into the studio and record her voice.

And Robert Lowe, Bashar Suleiman, Elvin Brandi, MSYLMA: how did the collaboration with them come about?

I've long admired Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe, both as a person and as an artist, and I feel a real affinity with his work - that sense of the sacred that isn't tied to any particular expression of religiosity. So working with him was a dream come true. He came into the studio in Brooklyn where I recorded the album with his modular setup, and I improvised, filtering his voice fairly quickly, without any extra embellishment. It was thrilling and moving to watch a master like him work live. I met Bashar Suleiman and Elvin Brandhi when they performed as INSIN in Beirut a couple of years ago. We were on the same bill. The connection between us was immediate. I loved their music right away. I also asked them to contribute something to “Agalma VII”. They were in Cairo at the time and also asked MSYLMA to take part. They recorded the vocal part in his studio and he quickly added this gorgeous, completely astonishing self-tuning voice. Once again, another contribution that moved me to tears.

Recognizing the sublime and trying to decode it is a difficult task for philosophy, science, religion, logic and so on. So, in your view, when does music truly tap into the sublime?

When time stands still.

Coil, Psychic TV and countless other short-lived collaborations: which of these from your past enriched you the most, and why?

Without a doubt my work as a member of Coil. I'm often contacted by people telling me about a Coil record that changed their lives, and it's an incredible feeling to realize that an album I was part of had such a profound effect on someone. Coil asked me to join them to add something that was missing, and in the end it turned into a mutual exchange. Being part of Coil changed me and my approach to music, and that continues to this day.

Is the sense of ritual in music today, in your view, the same as it was 40 years ago? I'm thinking, for instance, of George Deuter or Joanna Brouk. Is there more artifice today and less connection with nature altogether, or is that just an impression?

Maybe the form and the intention change, but now more than ever, faced with the crushing nature of algorithmic capitalism, these are times when rituals can slip through the cracks and offer a glimpse of other possibilities. I'm not sure what's changed, but I see ritual as a survival mechanism.

You grew up in Paisley, but your home is now New York…

It's hard to say anything about Paisley, I have mixed feelings about it, mainly because I was exposed to gang culture from a very young age. I lost a lot of friends in those years. So leaving was a relief. I've only gone back a couple of times. Truth be told, I've lost my connection to Paisley, and my perspective on it too. I then lived in London for 15 years before moving to New York in 1999. And I've felt more at home in New York than anywhere else I've lived. It's the most stimulating city to live and create in. It has an incredibly dynamic and vibrant community of artists, musicians and writers. It'll be interesting to see what happens with the fallout from this damn pandemic. New Yorkers are incredibly resilient and have a strong sense of community.

Tell us about five records you've enjoyed recently.

Eartheater – “Phoenix: Flames Are Dew Upon My Skin”: absolutely stunning songwriting, her most intense work to date. 9t Antiope – “Placebo”: their music always gives me chills, and this release is no exception. Spazio Afrika – “hybtwibt?”: harrowing and beautiful. Fhloston Paradigm – “Right Where We Are”: the deepest immersion of the year. Dakn – “Too Far, Too Low”: listening to this record feels like having hallucinations.

What would you recommend to a young person getting into electronic music and modular synths?

I'd advise any young person to start slowly and not spend a lot of money on gear. And to buy just a couple of things at first (or maybe use free software) to really learn what the gear does, and discover its possibilities before buying more. But above all, listen.

Have you got something ready for touring as soon as the Covid emergency ends, or is everything still on hold?

Oh, sure, I already have a set ready and I can't wait. Obviously, as soon as shows can safely resume.

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