Cat No: WIGLP468
1. Carousel Days
2. Gold & Tinsel
3. Jackies Room
4. Love Turns Her On
5. Rubicon Song
6. Old Flamingo
7. Kinky Living
8. Night In Evening City
9. Man With A Remedy
Having waited 17 years for Drift Code, some may be surprised at Clockdusts swift arrival, but the albums roots can be found in the same extended sessions. Early on I realised I had two albums worth of material, Webb explains. The first tunes I wrote were electric guitar based, with long arrangements that built up in layers to something sonically quite dense. These became the bulk of Drift Code. As a reaction, I wrote a batch of songs that were tighter in their structure but had more feeling of space. These make up the bulk of Clockdust.
Once hed identified each songs greater role, Webb took pains to ensure the albums would stand alone. Through the year of mixing and releasing Drift Code, he continues, I made a conscious effort not to listen to Clockdust. It became some long-lost twin everybody had forgotten. There was an older, wiser atmosphere to it, more cinematic, but in a romantic way.
Clockdust draws upon an armoury of instruments, some, like the euphonium, unfamiliar in such contexts, and plenty the kokoriko, the okÃ³nkolo with even more unfamiliar names. Each track, too, indicates Webbs fondness for the path less travelled, its twists and turns at first jarring but soon intuitive. That theyre embellished by a voice which has seemingly endured many lifetimes emphasises their mysterious nature. That its recording was soundtracked by Jacques Brel, Jet Harris and Kurt Weill no doubt contributed too. That many songs are inspired by old movies enhances their ageless atmosphere yet further.
Lead single Jackies Room is about a dysfunctional yet romantic relationship in which the protagonist believes as long as shes desired, shell never grow old and the resulting track sways with the grace of its aging seductress. I think of the album as containing stories from people whove reached their present situation through many years of experiences, Webb says.
Idiosyncratic and quietly haunting, Clockdust is seeped in sepia-tinted nostalgia, a powerful force of nature, Webb states, up there with love and desire. The album blurs the boundaries between past and present. Webb insists that he prefers to live in the here and now, but in looking back hes found a magical, mesmerising manner in which to forge a path forward: for him, for his music, and for his audience.