Boredom and misery spurs Charlottefield to move into pastures new
Words Richard Hanscomb
Thomas House, vocalist and guitarist in Brighton’s finest exponents of emotive whatevercore, Charlottefield, is ambivalent about his adopted hometown. “It has a real problem with volume,” he says. “The Free Butt’s never been the same since it re-opened.”
Volume: Thomas and his band are well versed in the cathartic powers of noise. Listen to their sophomore effort, What Are Friends For, and your senses will be assaulted by a group of friends playing with missionary-like zeal.
“People walk out,” he concedes with sanguine resolve, “but to play live to 20 strangers that go the distance is always a great feeling. We’re converting.”
You’ve heard it before, but not the Charlottefield way. Take the raw hue melodicism of Chavez or the precision grooves of Don Caballero suffused with an immersive sense of pastoral Englishness and you’re somewhere near the aural colossus they conjure up.
Charlottefield came together when they discovered each other head nodding and stage diving to the same bands at The Forum in Tunbridge Wells.
“We all convened from Hastings and Tonbridge to watch bands there,” says Thomas. “We saw Unhome, Done Lying Down, Prolapse… People knew each other from school so it became a loose scene.”
The notion of community is important to Charlottefield. It informs the way they’ve conducted their creativity since re-locating to Brighton in 2002.
“There’re a lot of decent people here,” explains Thomas, “Ack Ack Ack, I’m Being Good and Headquarters… Cat On Form were a great Brighton band - they took us out when we first started touring and gave us focus and a chance.”
Playing live became their lifeblood. Buoyed by a system of mutual support from their peers and by the staccato fills of drummer Ash Marlowe, Charlottefield quickly became an electrifying and vibrant prospect.
“He added ambition and spontaneity,” he says. “Ash’s approach meant the live performance was as much a feature as the songs.”
Despite impressing Talk Talk producer Phil Brown, Charlottefield repaired to a church hall in Norwich for What Are Friends For and mixed the album themselves after a diary clash rendered Brown unavailable. The record reeks of monastic disenfranchisement; a by-product of it being made away from home with no outside distractions.
“Relationships were put to one side,” says Thomas. “It was perfect for us to get into the space we needed to progress musically as a band.”
A sensitive man, perplexed by the fact people are talking about his lyrics “because you can hear them this time”, Thomas is wary about elaborating upon the subject: “I wonder where they come from. I have no job - I find myself unoccupied, bored and miserable. That’s how songs come out. I can’t do much else.”
