Flotsam by Richard Fay

On a summer’s day in the Rhodope mountains (Bulgaria) - on my back, half-dozing, half-gazing at the ocean above me, the wisps and curlicues of cloud in the blue expanse, elemental flotsam, paused in motion, set against the steady tick of life - here a tune came to me, largely-formed, easily-named: Flotsam Cumulus ... dedicated to my friend of many years and walking companion that day, Milena Katsarska.

Alongside some newer pieces, there are many older pieces in the flotsam of this album, tunes that came to me, and came to be, in a new century burst after life eased in the ‘00s. They share a mood, a palette, a frame, an ethos ... memories distilled through a contented eye. They may sometimes capture the shadows of loss, but, as viewed from here and now, they voice a deep contentment. I remember the birth of each piece: particular places, special people, isolated memories each paused, floating on waves of experience, musical regeneration of the transitory. Flotsam. Fixing memories musically is a habit of mine. Others compose for occasions, commissioned perhaps, or, they write for shows, the dramatic momentum shaping the sonic. I work from occasions, trying to note/notate the experience before it's swamped by the expanse of living.

Frustratingly, I’ve lost a few tunes over the years. These captured, seemingly unforgettably, a specific moment only for it to dissolve into the flow of subsequent moments, the name being all that’s left. But once a tune is established, and has been named and noted down, it’s as if it’d always been, something pre-existent.

We are shaped by what we experience, and my music bears traces of other musics, but not derivative, or appropriative I hope. It gives me pleasure that listeners often have favourites, but it used to niggle me when they’d comment, “This one reminds me of x”. Or y or z. The soundscape I wish to be idiomatic clearly reminds them of other soundworlds. But the ‘other’ which my tunes invoke is also without consensus. I have come to accept the flotsam for what it is: the musical bibs and bobs of those parts of my experience which I manage to remember. Where once I was shy about it, I am now reassured of its potential to touch diverse listeners.

Manchester-based Richard Fay is a composer, ethno-musicologist, arranger, performer, and a producer (of shows including Amid the Mirk Over the Irk: When Klezmer Meets Irish). His works have been described as ‘ethno-classical’, a label capturing his melding of classical and traditional musical elements. He plays a variety of brass instruments and button accordion.

richardfay.co.uk