I began a kind of doodling whereby I was gathering together guitar leads, speaker cables and various inexplicable wires and repurposing them, sometimes winding them up into objects or, as I had with the string, stretching them out around the room into a kind of network. I would strip off conduit and rip out the copper wires from all the leads. I began to disembowel the mixing desk, pulling out its entrails: green, white, red, brown leads. I fixed all the wrong type of wiring to the wrong type of power and then I would turn the whole system on again to see what happened.
The book, ‘voiced’ by Kate Bush, is a fictional inhabiting (via the Guardian’s ‘How We Made…’ feature) of the production of her remarkable first album. A meditation on the idiosyncrasies of the creative process and what constitutes an artist’s sensibility, and then an unravelling towards a manifestation of that process and the strangeness, the rapture, that can follow.