ICECOLDINALEX

1990. CHICAGO. A young black kid emerges from a room clutching the
KLF's "3 a.m.  Eternal (Orbital remix)" and frantically tries to
justify his fervour. "It's like Pink Floyd, but it's not Pink Floyd,
it's dance music. I can't believe this! Amazing!" Alex Paterson / DJ
Orb / LX Dee (depending on which hat he's wearing) realises his
therapy is beginning to produce results.

1991. LONDON. A not so young white kid at the Brixton Fridge. I've
arranged an interview with Dr. Paterson, but I'm late. It's the first
major London concert for the Orb at a smallish 1500 capacity
venue. "You can't see him. He's on the decks at the moment." He's
playing the live version of "Sympathy For The Devil," 808 State's
"Pacific," Rhythim Is Rhythim's "Salsa Life." A few dance, most sit
. . . light joints . . . people aged 15-40 . . . some with dyed hair,
long or shaved . . . young girls in black and white Bridget Riley Op
art outfits . . .  most are dressed in the khaki and colour of "Jumble
Sale" fashion . . . they discuss aromatherapy and India . . . children
of the flower people, yet this digital generation . . . they accept
the aggressive BPM thud over the transparent layers of sound, the
classical arrangements of Yes and Genesis, controlled and displaced by
on-the-beat percussion and bass.

Alex Paterson walks through the crowd. It does not part in awe, since
he has preserved his anominity so far. Yet he is the only one in the
crowd to wear what a country boy would call a bean-hat. Before,
during, and after the "concert" Alex wears his hat . . . offstage
plain black, onstage a multicoloured triangular one with white
Moschino Parka. Well smart!

I want to look at the audience more, so I wander around. Not affluent
. . . the bars are doing slow business . . . not exactly happy either
. . . they have come to be uplifted, transformed, taken to a future
where filling the leisure time is the most difficult preoccupation
. . . the future their parents spoke of, the future that TV dreamed of
. . . a future where instead of flowers in the hair and San Francisco,
everyone would beep greetings in short poetic dialogue, everyone would
wear lead shoes and play golf in the eternal bunker. Yet 1984 came and
went. From the age of Big Mother to the blank generation of John
Major.  The Orb say one drop plus one drop equals one large drop. All
else follows.

"Hello Alex. Can we talk?" He shakes hands . . . self effacing,
charming, pale, self-confident. "Wait a minute, I'll get you a pass"
he says and dives off into the distance. His girlfriend smiles . . . a
large friendly smile, evidently content.  "Are you nervous?" I ask
her.  "No."  "Is he?"  "No, why should he be?"  "I'll see you
backstage after the show" he says, arriving back and pats me on the
shoulder. As I walk away I forget to say "good luck" but he doesn't
seem to need it. And I get to thinking "Perhaps he should be nervous
. . . is he not taking enough risks that it might all collapse in
failure . . . is he on auto-pilot?" Let's see!

Cynthia Watkins cascades from the speakers singing the opera "La
Wally" from the film "Diva" . . . an enigmatic choice. It's the signal
for enthusiasts to start their tape machines, not knowing the concert
will be broadcast on Radio 1 shortly. From high art to childhood in a
swoop with the Trumpton chorus (an early 60s BBC children's
programme), then the trademark cockrel . . . a gentler symbolic motto
than punk's WAKE UP! Three screens are at the back of the stage.  In
this opening sequence a large circle, zen for the whole or
nothingness, is littered with images from 8 mm film projectors,
lasers, mirror balls and dry ice. The initial images are Barbarella
"suffering" the orgasmatron . . . various clips of Apollo XI and the
space race . . . comic cartoon capers. Pleasure, hope and fun. Alex,
31, and Thrash, 19, are centre stage . . . the captain and his
lieutenant. There's not a real instrument to be seen. They're
grappling with two DAT players, four Technics decks, some sequencers
hidden behind a large white sheet topped with a golden orb of the sort
the Queen or Vivienne Westwood would take to gatherings.

Orb music affects the arms first . . . a kind of aerobic shoulder
movement that has the practicioner touching the air around him, as if
keeping afloat . . .  rarely does it disturb the groin, and yet it is
more sexy than cerebral because of its slightly feminine nature
. . . it counters muscles with curves. Ricky Lee Jones whispers "They
were beautiful, the most beautiful thing as a matter of fact" on
"Little Fluffy Clouds" . . . and The Orb have lift off.

Another generation . . . neckless glissando guitar filling in
unrehearsed. Steve Hillage adds another layer to the already dense
soundscape as 50s B-movie UFOs and aliens fill the screens. At times
the images are distracting, not really planned or co-ordinated
. . . sometimes actually subtracting from the music . .
. uncontrolled in a kind of druggy way that give them a quaint amateur
feel.  Certainly the performance could be improved by more thought on
the visual side.  Yet many people are crosslegged, eyes closed,
experiencing inner images, lost in music.

The concert ends uncerimoniously. They leave the stage. There is no
encore or shouts for one. Andy Weatherall spins a disc and the crowd
continue to dance.  The Orb have gone. Certainly "Loving You" was a
highlight with Alex mixing in the original Minnie Ripperton disc to a
new turbo-boosted bass line, and academic voices discussing drug
taking deep in the mix. The Hillage guitar, most effective on "Star 6
& 7 8 9" (easily the best song tonight) and a new song that has
cannons for bass drums and pistols for hihats (re-affirming the Erik
Satie connection). But, and this is a large but, why the emptiness?

Backstage there is little to learn. Youth is fatter than I
imagined. Andy Weatherall is perfecting a voice that reveals him to be
a fan of the fop or Vic Reeves in his high pitched mode. Thrash looks
pleased. We forget the interview till the end when we exchange
words. "The visuals weren't up to scratch" I say.

"I'm a musician. If you want to do something well you have to devote
yourself completely to it" he says, slightly offended and
defensive. "Are you tired?" I ask. "No, not really. It's not hard
work. Look, let's speak tomorrow."

We walk across the stage . . . the house lights on, the illusion gone
. . . into a late lit up London that smells of spring.

The phone rings. It's noon the next day. 

"Hello, is that Alex?" 

"Yeah! Let's do it now." 

IM. What are your beliefs? 

AP. Nothing religious or anything, just happiness! Self belief
really. Self confidence. The idea that anyone can be what they want to
be. Look at me, I started all this at 29. Now I'm amazed where it's going.

IM. Happiness, is that your goal? 

AP. Yes, to be able to transmit that sensation in the music . . . to
give joy to the audience.

IM. Your audience has quite a lot of flower-children, 60s types. What
do you make of that?

AP. It's horrendous! 

IM. Really? You yourself embellish 60s themes. The new single by Sun
Electric is a cover of Cream's "I Fell Free" . . . the Teutonic's
fascination with Vietnam, Kennedy, space launches . . . the films of
Oliver Stone . . . this constant re-appraisal of that generation.

AP. It's a feeling more than anything. When I was a boy my parents
would talk about a future controlled by a computer. We would all walk
on the moon. There would be all this leisure time and so little
work. And in a way that's how it is in an artistic way.

IM. Is your use of space launches, docking, virgin territory etc a
metaphor for sex in the way old blues tunes would disguise the
innuendo of relationships?

AP. Not really. That's one way of looking at it. 

IM. Is the growth of the Orb organic or artificial? 

AP. It's definitely organic. I'm amazed the way it's grown. 

IM. What's the source of it all? 

AP. Myself. Yes. I remember I went to a rave a few years ago, and I
came home and immediately did "Loving You." So really it was the start
of house music. I was working for E.G. at the time, which was ambient
music mainly, and the two came together. I finally persuaded Jimmy
(Cauty) to take the drums off. It was hard work to persuade him.

IM. You fell out soon after that (apparently Cauty wiped the tapes of
a "Live At Trancentral" LP). Have you made up and will you work
together again?

AP. I hope so. We went to Cornwall to finish the Space LP. We fell out
because he thought "Oh, you're only a DJ, I'm a musician" so I felt he
was taking my ideas without respecting my input. But Youth said last
night: "It's not easy, this DJ stuff. As a musician you can make a bum
note and no one notices, but as a DJ if you put the wrong record on
everyone stops dancing." (laughs) He found out it's not so easy.

IM. There were a couple of releases that got lost around then. A remix
of "Loving You" and the Fischerman's Friend "Money (Orb mix)," both
with Cauty.  What happened?

AP. The "Loving You" was because Trevor Horn had spotted a sample of
his work (sings) Aaah ah ah (Grace Jones) and Jimmy was scared of
another MCPS saga like with ABBA on the "1987" LP. So when it was
re-released we had to credit him. The "Money" release was considered
not groovy enough by the distributors of E.G.  (AVL) which is ironic,
because a couple of weeks later the Clothes Show (UK's only fashion
programme, highly rated) picked up on it and played it six times.
E.G. thought it was too left field or dancey.

IM. Even though they released Eno-Byrne's "My Life In The Bush
Of Ghosts"? 

AP. Exactly. They didn't know what to do with that either. They're so
conservative. They won't take chances. It's like the Government here
for the last 12 years - there's no good ideas.

IM. Have you had any remixes rejected outright? 

AP. I have actually. I have a friend called Paul Ferguson with Island
USA and I did a mix for him of a rock band called Pleasure Head to try
to break them here.  But it rebounded on him. The company wouldn't
release it. I had a real fondness for that mix. I also hear Erasure
weren't keen on my "Ship Of Fools" mix, but the company (Mute) liked
it. I have this band of 17 year olds I want to produce.  I like their
energy. They are called Love Kittens. I'll probably do their LP.

IM. What films have watched more than five times? 

AP. Oh! Well, the first one is quite old. It's "Taxi Driver." 

IM. Are you talking to me! 

AP. Exactly, I never shaved my head or anything, but I was really
obsessed with that . . . with DeNiro. He's such a great actor.

IM. It's classic dialogue . . . the agression. 

AP. The other would be "Blade Runner," which is such a great
futuristic picture.

IM. Have you ever sampled anything from it? 

AP. Not me (laughs loudly). I wouldn't do that. I know people who have
though (laughs again).

IM. We talked earlier about space, the moon, the 60s. The 90s may be a
turning point, with the barriers between the states in Europe going,
Will music be a common language? Will there develop an Esperanto
language in music?

AP. It's an interesting idea, but I think the dominance of the USA
makes English the only language, and they will have to sing in
that. Pop wise, anyway. But the Orb aren't really about pop. The album
has sold 25,000 copies so far, which is great. The remixes are a bit
more poppy, but still ambient.

IM. It strikes me . . . the Orb remixes are mostly moving against the
flow, whereas the live side is definitely with it.

AP. Yes, that's concious on my part. 

IM. Another film? 

AP. Well, it would have to be "Fantasia," a Walt Disney classic. But I
only saw it for the first time this year.

IM. Any plans for an ambient type video after the KLF's effort with "Waiting"? 

AP. No! It's been done, hasn't it?

IM. That's no reason not to try it yourself.

AP. I'm not really interested. My record company have been filming the
concerts and taking stills. I'll wait till I see them.

IM. If you could imagine an Orb song with visuals, what would it look like?

AP. Haven't you seen the video for "Little Fluffy Clouds"?

IM. No.

AP. It's dolphins in space with clouds moving over it. (laughs)

IM. Any plans for more London concerts?

AP. Perhaps with Primal Scream. They liked our light show, so we might
use that.  Have you seen the film "Life Is Sweet"?

IM. No. Is it good?

AP. Yes. It's by the same director who made "Abigail's Daughter." It's
the best film I've seen this year. Go and see it, it's
hilarious. You'll laugh your bollocks off!

IM. That good.

AP. Yeah. You know the birds on "Sunburst" . . . the pigeons sample?
The BBC were upset because they owned it. They owned the sound of a
bird! It's ridiculous . . . it will be the air we breathe next.

IM. Any message for America? Would you like to be successful there, or Japan?

AP. Yes, definitely. We'd like to tour both places . . . America soon,
I hope.  So come and see us.

Alex Paterson may not have seen "Nostalghia" by Russian director
Andrei Tarkovsky, but he should. It's very close in spirit to his own
work . . . the layering of sound . . . for its symbolic qualities
. . . for its use of elemental forces such as water and birdnoise
. . . for the value of pauses and silence. In that film, the final
scene sees the main character, collaged, in an Italian cathedral with
an open roof . . . snow falls on his head. It's impossible to describe
that visual scene in words . . . it must be seen. The Orb must be
heard. Their music is the best being made here in the UK. A little
more delicacy with the visual element would undoubtedly be
perfection. Chill Out indeed . . .

Iain MacPherson