Benjamin Lew liner notes
Liner notes for Benjamin Lew's Le personnage principal est un peuple isolé, released by Stroom.
The main character is an isolated people
Fossile
The musical career of Benjamin Lew started with the publication of a one-off fanzine called Fossile (subtitled ‘100.000 ans d’art et de culture, son influence sur la pensée et la litterature.’). The newspaper included a flexi-disc featuring two recordings by a certain Benj Lew, on it two sound pieces sampling news reports on the war in Vietnam, cut and paste inspired by William S. Burroughs’ and Brion Gysin’s literary beat experiments.
Lew: ‘Fossile was a one-off project I did with my housemates, with whom I was making posters for gigs at Plan K in Molenbeek back then. The newspaper was supposed to serve as some sort of a portfolio for our graphic work. It was conceived as a fanzine, we printed 5000 copies, 2000 were at my place but I’ve forgotten or lost them in one of the many times I moved apartments. The other 3000 were at the printing company, but they got burned in a huge fire, which apparently was attempt to shut the place down, presumably by right-wing activists/terrorists, because the same printer was printing “POUR”, an extreme left-wing publication which was investigating les ballets roses (pink ballets) and the Brabant killers, amongst other shocking events at the time. So most of the newspapers and the flexi-discs never reached anybody, but Marc Hollander, of Crammed Discs, got hold of a copy, and proposed to make a record for him.’
Au Papaya
At the time, Benjamin worked part-time as a cocktail mixer in ‘Le Papaya’, a tropical bar which was one of the favourite watering holes of Brussels' thriving artistic community of the early '80s:
Lew: ‘For months the guys of Tuxedomoon were staying in the apartment of Frédérique Flamant, who was the director of Plan K (*) at the time. His apartment was just around the corner of the Papaya. That’s where I met Steven Brown and the rest of them. Steven came to the bar to celebrate his birthday. That’s when we met, purely by accident.’
‘Work at the bar, I liked it. The hours corresponded with my lifestyle. Four hours of sleep were sufficient for me back then. Plus, I liked to drink, and of course at the bar there was enough of that! Even if it has brought me some health issues, I have no regrets whatsoever, life’s been good to me!’
a spoon falling
Lew: ‘One time I was asked to make music for an advertisement for mineral water. The people from the agency were six in the studio, and the boss was in New York, listening to my music over the phone. I remember his feedback: “it needs the feeling of a spoon falling into a cup of coffee” and “I like it very much, but the piano should be replaced by a guitar”. Mind you, back in those days people were earning good money, and for a brief moment, I had some too.’
Modus operandi
The basis of the music was made at daytime, on a small analog synthesizer Lew started creating strange mysterious little pieces. Later on, he gave the recordings to the musicians he counted among the many creative clients of the Papaya.
Lew: ‘I made my recordings on the 8-track recorder Marc (Hollander) had lent me. At night, Steven for instance came to the bar and I gave him a tape to listen to. After my night shift was done, we recorded his parts in the studio, in complete freedom, I gave all musicians carte blanche.’
‘I wouldn’t describe myself as a musician, rather a maker of noise, or “music d’ameublement” like Satie used to say. Furniture music, or sometimes more literally translated as furnishing music. I only started listening to music after I had stolen a couple of hundred of discs in a record store in Brussels which was opening its doors and a friend of mine had the keys. Before that, music didn't interest me at all. I was into books, and modern dance like Pina Bausch and Anne Teresa De Keersmaeker.’
Ugly drummers
Lew: ‘I hate drummers! Not personally, but the look of somebody drumming, it’s so ugly to me. By far and large I prefer drum computers. All other instrumentalists are nice to look at, but a live drummer, with his kick and his snares and cymbals, it’s so ugly to me. Percussionists I like though (laughs).’
SABAM
Lew: ‘Vincent Kenis transcribed my music to partitions. I did only two years of music courses, I can hardly even read partitions, so he helped me out with that. Because back then in order for you to declare your music at SABAM****, you had to deliver them the partitions, without music sheets you couldn’t claim your music was yours, oddly so. Vincent has absolute hearing, you tap on a cup of coffee and he’ll tell you what note it is.’.
La Magnifique Alcoolique
Lew: ‘La Magnifique Alcoolique was named after a regular client at the Papaya. She was a beautiful woman, but heavily attached to alcohol, amongst other things probably. The type of character where it was clear to me that I wouldn’t be the one to pull her out of it, rather she’d be the one pulling me in. So I stayed away from her, and named the song after her.’
Après
Lew: ‘After this intense period I left for Bali with my girlfriend, and for more than a year I didn’t make any music. I wasn’t missing music, to be honest. My motivation to make music was to inspire people to do other things, that people would use it like painters use pots of paint. I love it when my music is used as a basis for other arts, like choreography or cinema.’
* Plan K, the cult Brussels concert hall in Molenbeek, where between 1979 and 1986 the underground scene thrived, most notably with groups like Joy Division, Alan Vega, the Slits playing legendary concerts.
** SABAM is one of the Belgian associations of authors, composers and publishers. The bilingual acronym stands for "Société d'Auteurs Belge – Belgische Auteurs Maatschappij