I’m Not Here, six pulsating tracks of hectic experimental acid techno, is Ben James Wood’s first release as Oh Mr James this decade. He hadn’t been operating with much greater urgency before that, either: a producer of some description since moving to Cornwall in 2010, and by his own estimation a pretty prolific one, his public transmissions are limited for good reason.
“I’m constantly writing and have tracks for days on boxes of hard drives – the best dancefloor material becomes the foundation of my live sets – but the internet reduced the barrier of entry for releasing music to pretty much nothing,” he says. “The continual volume of new releases makes it easy to get lost in the noise.”
Among Wood’s other recent preoccupations is ESC, a promo collective who do parties at the Cornish Bank in Falmouth – he’ll be sharing a bill with Mike ‘µ-Ziq’ Paradinas and Meemo Comma on Saturday 20 September. Most of the other ESC heads are also live electronica types; one of them, Wood tells me, recently had an innocent crack at generating a track via AI and sharing the results. “It was made in minutes and it received millions of hits. That’s what modern musicians are competing against. Algorithms and quantity.”
It’s taken about ten months between Sergio Juzgado, who runs Madrid’s Analogical Force label, getting in touch to wax excited about an Oh Mr James demo track Wood had sent him – ‘Ground Control Acid’, pinballing braindance with a melancholic underbelly – and I’m Not Here coming out on lurid yellow vinyl. For the producer himself, this EP has existed in some sort of conceptual form for years longer.
Otherwise, since clubs reopened the only way to experience the honing of the Oh Mr James craft has been by catching a live set, which is also the best way. “Playing tracks out is the most important part of my writing process. I learn a lot from how I feel when my music is playing to a room of people.”
To date this has mostly happened in Cornwall, though Wood’s gigography also includes some sets in his old stomping ground of north Wales, a trip to Italy in summer 2022 (“the heat really brought out my sadistic side and I took it out on the crowd. It went down a treat”) and a slot at the Acid Horse festival in May of this year. I included Oh Mr James in an anticipatory preview for this site and his cranked-up sesh exceeded my expectations. “Beautiful crowd! The whole place came to life, dancing up a storm, people jumping off the stage.”
His live setup is subject to alteration but is basically a combo of modular and non-modular synths, and analogue and digital gear alike: a nice happy medium between live rave performers’ two polar tropes, ‘tech spec that cost the same as a deposit on a house, no idea what it all does’ and ‘may actually just be pressing play on a laptop’. “The modular is the centre of my setup, where I keep my ‘band in a box’ – drums, synth voices, lots of FX and rhythm generators – usually accompanied by whatever other small synths I have space for in my gig case. I can easily augment it with homemade bits and bobs.”
Wood’s technological self-sufficiency stems from his time on Falmouth University’s music tech course, which was his reason for moving there 15 years ago. (“I quickly realised I liked being around the kit more than the course, so I made the most of that and then dropped out.”) Before that, he’d grown up in Bala, a north Walian town where not that much happens but which is geographically well-placed if you want to go to other, not necessarily licenced happenings in the region.
“I cut my teeth playing in bands from the early 2000s, in venues, barns and free parties,” he says. “Wales and Cornwall have added so much to my sound. The remoteness leaves space for uninterrupted streams of thought. These ancient surroundings will outlive any idea that you could have in a lifetime.”
The Cornish scene, particularly in and near Falmouth, is probably as strong as it’s ever been for uncommercial music – that being made in the county, as well as artists being persuaded to include it in their tour schedules. Notably, it was once a creative incubator for pioneering producers including Aphex Twin, Luke Vibert and Tom Middleton – lore you’ll likely be au fait with if Oh Mr James is your kind of jam – but that was well over 30 years ago, and for a long time afterwards little of relevance made it beyond the River Tamar. The recent change is thanks to the DIY beavering of a succession of (often) young musicians, Wood very much among them.
Pleasingly, Richard D. James himself has also become a sort of intermittent uncle figure to this generation of post-RDJ expert knob twiddlers, popping up to play unadvertised sets or oversee the mixing desk. “Rich is an encouraging force on the scene,” Wood says. “Someone of his calibre playing in such humble surroundings… like hearing Jimi Hendrix at your youth club.”
When I’m Not Here drops in full at the end of this month, Wood’s evolution as a producer should be clear: from the tightly-edited vocal cutups on ‘Sometimes’ and the title track, to the rippling melodies and scrabbling snares of ‘The Bishop’ and ‘Parasympathetic’, to pneumatic electro EP closer ‘Desk Acid Two’. He’s also composed the soundtrack (with a commission to make “elevator music”) to an art installation by Jess Pemberton, who does the visuals for the ESC events. It’s called Forest-glom 1.0 and is displayed at Falmouth Art Gallery until Sat 27 September.
Aside from that, you can expect Oh Mr James to do his thing at his pace: his way of seizing the moment. “Now is the best time to be making unusual dance music,” he reasons. “The world keeps getting stranger, many are left feeling more socially isolated and we really need new analogies to make sense of it.”
