Craven Faults - Sidings

A Closer Listen

Author JB Priestley is credited with coining the phrase ‘It’s Grim Up North’, reflecting upon the cities of the industrial revolution, houses and factories alike blackened with soot and smoke. It’s a tag that has stuck around, but it’s now mainly used in a tongue-in-cheek manner, such as on grey overcast days of seemingly perpetual rain. Sure, the north of England can be grim (and bleak) at times – but it can also contain beauty and heart. It’s probably fair to argue that whoever still thinks it’s grim up north has never taken the Settle – Carlisle trainline through rolling hills and verdant dales, a feat of Victorian engineering to provide a journey that contains views of the north at its best, remote and rural.

It feels as if Craven Faults has taken this journey as well. His work is rich in phrases and terminology that derive from the Yorkshire countryside and the railway network, no more so than on Sidings. The inspiration, channelled through the artwork and track titles, is from both a pre- and post-industrial life. Sheepfolds, dry stone walls, and the occasional neolithic site on the one hand, and disused train lines, demolished works and abandoned factories on the other. All wrapped up in monochromatic photography, the work of Craven Faults creates its own little world, which has tapped into a steadily growing audience. Which is set to expand with his most complete vision to date.

Crafting an overarching concept for an electronic project is nothing new – for example, Belbury Poly created their own imaginary town alongside their music. Moon Wiring Club has designed an aesthetic that suggests ghosts from 400 years ago are present in the grooves. Pye Corner Audio composed a hauntological study of abandoned factories in the Black Mill Tape series. If nothing else, it says that electronic music fans are suckers for mysterious but consistent aesthetic choices. Craven Faults has kept his anonymity, catalogued his live performances with their own numbers (‘Parcels’) and has progressed from pressing 300 copies of his first EP to supporting Mogwai in the Royal Albert Hall at the request of The Cure’s Robert Smith.

But the design and photography count for nothing if the music doesn’t stack up. Thankfully, Sidings continues Craven Fault’s journey with long, cinematic pieces, but this time adds a few surprisingly concise works into the mix. Side C on this release contains four tracks; this is astonishing brevity in a world where compositions unfurl over ten or 20 minutes. From the few interviews that Craven Faults has given, we know he’s a fan of long-form electronic music, having seen Kraftwerk on their Autobahn tour and Tangerine Dream a year later in 1976. His previous life as a working musician remains undisclosed, but readers and listeners can have fun speculating. But the tendency to utilise analogue and modular synths and just play out for an extended time makes sense.

If his previous album Standers took inspiration by delving into the earth, the ancient works and landscape of Yorkshire and Cumbria, then Sidings takes a clear cue from the railway lines built close to the same ground. “Ganger”, the opening track, takes its pulse and rhythm from the train’s clattering shuffle on the tracks. “Stoneyman” follows, similar enough to be the second half of the same piece but with a propulsive kick drum undercurrent. The gradual layering of sounds builds momentum and intensity, almost hypnotising the listener – a trick that Craven Faults pulls off and then immediately does again. That’s the first half-hour taken care of, although time seems irrelevant at this stage.

Things are a little calmer, dubby, and introspective with a sequence of five shorter pieces. These seem to explore the aspects of the rail-centric world where, after the Beeching Report, lines were disused and stations abandoned, isolating communities who then had to rely on cars and buses to get anywhere. Some of these areas have been repurposed more recently to become walking and cycling paths, but the loss of these railway lines still cuts deeply. In the region that Craven Faults explores, the loss of industry (often mining) led to the break-up of a community, which meant the railway didn’t need to go to these places anymore. So now the track titles act as reminders of a world gone by – “Yard Loup”, “Three Loaning End”, “Drover Hole Sike” – phrases that resonate but have forgotten origins.

The mix of the modern electronic sound with a nostalgic theme has been done before, but Craven Faults recreates an environment that fully envelopes the listener. It’s a complete picture, allowing those who haven’t (for example) visited abandoned houses, old lime kilns, or ancient stone circles to at least get some visualisation alongside the music. The combination of image and music, which in itself nods back to the mid-70s wave of synth performances, meshes together impressively well. I’m taking Sidings on my next train journey; if you don’t have that opportunity, then plug in, close your eyes for 70 minutes and let Craven Faults transport you to the past and present of England’s heartland. It’s great up north. (Jeremy Bye)