One of the themes of Gareth Jones’ creative activity is connection. With Nick Hook, he formed a project called Spiritual Friendship. As one-half of Sunroof, he explores ideas in a shared space with Daniel Miller. The wires that create circuits in modular synthesis are both a metaphor for and the materials supporting the flow of ideas and experiences in his work.
As a solo artist, working as electroGenetic, Jones previously has celebrated his relationships with his mother, Joan, and mother-in-law, Dorothy (on the 2020 album, ElectroGenetic). Now, with the release of ElectroGenetic 2 – Nos Da, he turns to his attention to his patriarchal lineage. The Welsh phrase in the title means “Good night,” and it is both a happy memory from his childhood and a poignant farewell to his father.
As the starting point for the collection, Jones takes the vinyl collection that his father shared with him as a child. Made entirely of recordings of the classics, it was his introduction to the power of music:
These records were never just sounds – they were portals: to feeling, to texture, to imagined places. I grew up listening to them. In fact, I like to think I started listening before I was even born.
The titles of some tracks point to the works of the masters Jones was surrounded by in his childhood home. “Pyotr” references Tchaikovsky (despite a nod to The Righteous Brothers). “Er Sprach” suggests Bach. “Ludvig” – well, there could only be one, but this isn’t “A Fifth of Beethoven.” The heavy processing recalls Chris Carter’s tribute to ABBA, “AB/7A,” while the incorporation of classical elements is more subtle than Dreadzone’s leverage of Carl Orff for “Little Britain.”
One of Jones’ themes is flow. In the notes, he credits his sound modules as “collaborators in sonic unpredictability.” Four of the tracks in the collection were put together on a country retreat, using Maths, Mimeophon, Wogglebug, and QPAS modules. The sonic expressions that resulted from the delivery of electrons gave shape to the tracks that followed:
I let them speak, and followed where they led.
More of the material was shaped using a portable case of modules and an iPad, overlooking the Aegean Sea. That is most pronounced on “Ikaria,” which is impressed with the siga-siga mentality of the Greek islands. It flows peacefully and expressively; soaring like the son of Daedalus before he returned to Earth. The cicadas and waves that close the track persist in this rugged space without regard to heroes or legends. Concerning the latter, Mikis Theodorakis famously was exiled to Icarus twice during the Greek Civil War, to keep the composer away from the people.
Jones’ experience with sound design keeps the elements in their proportions. There is a sense of balance about the tracks that restrains the more excited components and grants space to the more placid moments. In “suchIsLove,” the hiss from silent grooves seems to move with the fluidity of water reaching the shore, while a fragment of speech passes like a fleeting memory. The crackle of used vinyl also appears as a prominent element on “kath,” which gives texture to the piece and also places it in time.
The closing track, “parting/nosDa,” features two main voices: that of the younger Jones and a recording made by his father for his mother ahead of a long trip. “I cannot be joyful of parting,” he says. Jones the younger notes of the found artefact:
In it, he speaks of love and distance, and of being strong in parting. Hearing his voice again in that moment was deeply moving — and I knew I wanted to bring it into this album. I’ve reframed it — not to interfere with the message to her, but to honour our own relationship. […] the piece becomes a quiet posthumous conversation between father and son.
Nos Da is poignant and touching in its vulnerability and expressiveness. The final words of the album are, “I love you,” spoken by Jones the elder. There is no trace of doubt in either the statement or the listening, and the connection is made.