40 Watt Sun seeks a shared experience

Few artists write music like Patrick Walker. His poignant songwriting fueled UK doom metal titans Warning through the ’90s and early ’00s. Following that band’s hiatus, he founded 40 Watt Sun in 2009, which has been a conduit for his creativity ever since. During this time, he released three critically acclaimed albums—The Inside Room, Wider Than the Sky, and Perfect Light. This week sees the release of his fourth under the 40 Watt Sun banner, Little Weight.

Little Weight, out now through Walker’s own Fisher’s Folly and digitally through Cappio Records, marks Walker’s mission to simplify his writing process and set rigid constraints on his timeframe for creating the six songs on this record. Walker spent three weeks in self-imposed isolation on the southwest coast of the UK—in a small village in Cornwall—to achieve this. His time spent there became the snapshot of his life that influenced the music on 40 Watt Sun’s new album.

Walker’s concentrated efforts were designed to recapture his songwriting style during 40 Watt Sun’s first few years. The deadlines and isolation allowed for intense focus, spontaneity, and quicker writing. The outcome, as Walker describes later, contains some of the best songs he has ever written.

Treble caught up with Walker ahead of the release of Little Weight for a conversation regarding the album and his creative process. Walker is known to be elusive when it comes to being interviewed. He prefers to let his music do his talking—his chords and codas provide the context to his thoughts. Walker’s innate talent and creativity have made his musical efforts in 40 Watt Sun a model of consistency and exceptional musicianship. He was kind enough to provide a glimpse into his work.

This interview has been edited for length.

Treble: What goals did you set for yourself personally or for 40 Watt Sun to recapture the essence of your early music?

Patrick Walker: When I made the first record with 40 Watt Sun, I wanted to do something spontaneous. Before, I guess my music had felt compositional or something like that. I wanted to make a record the same way I made the first record. I wanted to make the songs quickly. I wanted to create a small window of time in which to do them. I wanted them to be as immediate and as song-based as possible. And I think most importantly, I didn’t want to second-guess myself. I do that a lot. I try to second-guess myself.

Treble: You mentioned you wanted to set aside the time to make this happen, and you wanted to avoid second-guessing yourself with this. Was that the reason for setting these rigid time constraints and going into isolation for this album?

PW: I’ve always worked better with deadlines. If I had no deadline, the songs would never be finished. I’d sit on them and say, “I could do better.”

I’d sit on them for another six months or 12 months or two years or whatever. I’ve done that before. When I made Watching From A Distance—when was that, 18 years ago? It all came together in three months. It was written entirely and rehearsed in three months because I had a deadline, and I knew I had to do it.

But more so than that, creating something in such a short window, in some sense, is an interesting creative experiment as well. It is very much a snapshot of a moment in time. These aren’t songs that have been lived in or have been toured for 18 months. They’re songs that came out of what I was thinking and feeling in two weeks.

Treble: Tell me a little bit about that snapshot. Where were you?

PW: I was in Cornwall. It’s the most southwesterly county in the United Kingdom. There are lots of little isolated villages around the Coast. I particularly love the southwest coast of Cornwall. I’ve got a strong personal history attached to it.

Treble: Did you have any big personal highlights? Were there moments from your time in isolation that really stand out?

PW: [laughs] It was the most boring. Nothing exciting happened at all. I got up before sunrise, made a drink, and played. I went for a walk, came back, and played more. I sat in a pub for an evening and read and wrote. I didn’t have a television there or anything. I had no distractions or anything like that. I didn’t even take music with me. I didn’t listen to music. I really wanted to concentrate every part of my lived experience there into what I was trying to do.

Treble: What things were you reading while you were there?

PW: I’m embarrassed to say! I’m so self-conscious.

Treble: I need book club ideas. It’s almost my turn to pick a new book for a book club.

PW: I took some Raymond Carver with me. I can’t read fiction when I’m writing. I can read non-fiction, I can read poetry, and I can probably even read drama, but I can’t read novels if I’m writing.

Treble: Is there any particular reason for that?

PW: Yeah, it’s too self-contained, I think. My head needs to be the opposite of that. It’s the same way that I can’t listen to music when I’m making songs, it cauterizes the source or the fountain of creativity. Do you know what I mean? I need to feel more open than that.

Treble: Do you find that by reading fiction or listening to other music, you are more focused on someone else’s creative process or what went into their composition or story?

PW: Anyone who’s a creative artist in any medium, I think, would understand this. If you’re making songs, they’re in your head all the time, every minute of the day. You don’t have peace of mind from it. And to start listening to other music, it will take precedence in your head. You’re pushing the other living thing out of the way and bringing in something else. It wouldn’t be helpful.

That goes back to what I was saying about not reading fiction. I think poetry, for instance, has a freedom to it that the confinement of prose doesn’t. Similarly, if I’m making songs and trying to find words, I need that freedom and not the restriction of prose.

Does that make sense? I can’t explain it. I don’t really talk about this thing. It’s not a reasoned choice, it’s just something I find is the only way I can work.

Treble: Yeah, what you’re saying makes sense. I get the parallels between poetry—unconfined prose—and how it can help influence some of the writing.

PW: I’m not saying what I do is poetry at all. I wouldn’t have the audacity to suggest that, or the arrogance. But you know what I mean? I’m trying to find a voice and a way to express myself that I can’t do writing prose.

Treble: Little Weight is the second album you’ve written independently. Perfect Light was your first since writing as a band. Have you found it’s gotten easier this time around to write than last time?

PW: It was a completely different process. This record was made with a band. It’s not a long-term band by any means, but I wanted to make a record with a band, with three people that worked together and recorded together. But with Perfect Light, when I started making that record, I had no idea how it was going to end up. I simply had some songs and a lot of ideas for unfinished songs, and I was entirely feeling my way through the whole process and being intuitive.

Something like “Reveal.” I very much went and recorded it by myself. Then I brought in somebody else to play a couple of extra parts in it. Some of the songs I had people in mind straight away or how I would record them. But with this, it was an entirely different process. There was no real difference between the way I made this record and the way I made the first one or even the second one. I’ve always been the sole writer. Other than Perfect Light, I’ve always written for a band.

Has the purpose of 40 Watt Sun, or what the project means to you, changed over the last 15 years?

PW: No. I love music. I love songs, and I love making songs, and it’s the way I’m I’m best able to express myself. That’s what it was always meant to be about from the beginning. That was my sole reason for doing any of this. I just want to make something beautiful and hopefully, move or reach other people in the process of doing that. I don’t have any grand plan or anything like that. I don’t have any pretensions or any other motivations outside of wanting to make records and create songs. And that’s it. [laughs] That’s such a boring answer to your question, but it’s the honest one.

Treble: It’s powerful to have something that, for this long now, has this clear objective to funnel your creativity and, as you mentioned, make something beautiful that can hopefully affect listeners. You’re hoping that what you enjoy doing finds people, but ultimately, you’re not doing this for the other people, right?

PW: No, you have to be very selfish, I think, as a creative artist. And by that, I mean, you have to be your audience, don’t you? Do things for yourself and then hope that other people will—if I were doing it for anyone else, I would have made the same record four times over. I would have carried on making records like Watching From A Distance for another 20 years. But you have to be selfish, don’t you?

Treble: How do you seek inspiration in other parts of your life that aren’t tied to your music? How do you find beauty or uniqueness in everyday daily life?

PW: I try to be around positive people. I try and walk every day and I try to read every day. That’s it, honestly.

Treble: Where do you currently live?

PW: I’m in South Devon, which is the county next to Cornwall. It’s the second most southwesterly county in the UK. It’s very rural, with lots of big rolling hills. I live in a small, historic town and a very artistic, culturally affluent area, I suppose. I’m away from the big city.

Treble: Did you spend a lot of time living in big cities before South Devon?

PW: I’m from the southeast of England, so I’m quite close to London and from a big town and nothing like this at all. I do feel privileged to be where I am.

Treble: Has moving to and living in South Devon impacted your creativity?

PW: I don’t know that it has. There’s a slower way of life here that possibly helps feed that. I don’t think my physical surroundings or geography feeds what I do. I think the places I travel, the people I meet, and maybe my interior life feed my creativity.

Treble: I was curious about your time writing and recording the album to the time of your recent string of solo shows. Does the writing and recording process of Little Weight tie into these solo shows that you recently did? Did you have an urge to get out and perform after recording?

PW: No, I had an offer to go and play in Toronto at a three-day festival [Prepare the Ground], and then I got a few other shows off the back of that. I went out and did that little tour. But I generally always tour by myself nowadays. It’s just not financially viable to tour with a band anymore. Everything’s become more difficult. When something becomes a primary source of income, I’m quite fortunate in that I can tour by myself, whereas obviously, many people can’t. It’s just something I’ll continue to do. 

Treble: Do you have particular songs that are staples of the setlist when you go out?

I usually have to play stuff like “Carry Me Home,” “Restless,” and “Marazion.” That’s fine, I like playing those songs. There’s still something in them for me. I like to think I wouldn’t play something if I had a physical response or aversion to it. But I enjoy it. I like the songs. I’m not sure I’ve ever had a show where I haven’t played those three.

Treble: Do you think there is anything from Little Weight that is going to become a staple in your future sets?

PW: That’s a good question. [laughs] I don’t know. I wouldn’t like to say. Sometimes it can take a year or two—or longer even—to find a way to perform something by myself or to find an arrangement that works. A new one, if I’m playing them by myself, I mean. I probably shouldn’t say in case I’m wrong, and then I look like an asshole. [laughs]

Treble: Do you have any favorite moments or favorite songs from the new album?

PW: I think “Feathers” is one of the best songs I’ve written. I think “Closer to Life” is as well. I think those two, in particular, feel quite succinct and without any unnecessary trimmings.

I love a big finale. So I greatly enjoy “The Undivided Truth.” But “Feathers” is my other favorite from the album as well.

PW: Why that one?

Treble: I love big closing tracks. Admittedly, I’m not a musician. I have never really played instruments. I’ve never really learned music. So much of it is emotive—the gut response from my emotions and such.

I’m sure people have told you, your music is very affective and it can elicit a lot of emotions. So having this long composition to tie it all together almost feels like validation for my feelings throughout the record.

PW: Yeah. That’s good to know.

Treble: What do you hope fans and listeners take from Little Weight?

PW: I think if there’s something that speaks to somebody else, and whether it’s a shared experience or whether it articulates something that I haven’t found a language for before, then I’m just happy with that. Honestly, that’s it. I’d like songs to speak to someone in the same way that I know other songs have spoken to me. That’s simply it. I have no grander design than that.