Last year’s album from Burning Codes was one of the outstanding local releases of recent times. Autumnal, quiet, spooky, intimate, it was a record that ran counter to the in-yer-face grandstanding of most other on-the-make debuts. It wasted little time attempting to attract attention and was instead happy to sing to itself, in the hope that down-wind fellow travellers would pick up the scent.

The subsequent ecstatic reviews (from mags, blogs and fans such as Gary Lightbody and Neu’s Michael Rother) appear to have vindicated the softly-softly approach of mainman Paul Archer.
And listening to the new Burning Codes album, it’s clear he was emboldened by the experience.
Because, if anything, it’s quieter than the first. And spookier. And more intimate. And, as it happens, better too.
“The first record was, I think, very much the culmination and fruition of a whole new personal approach and ethos as to how I was creating sonically and lyrically,” Paul explains. “The whole new approach of ‘being’ or trying to let go and let be and be ‘in the moment’, feeling and allowing the vulnerability, trying to be more instinctual I think. This felt so very different, challenging and liberating.”
Paul’s determination to operate at a sub-strata level bleeds through every aspect of the record – be it his referring to the songs as ‘codes’, or his tricksy approach to cover art.
“I call the albums Burning Codes 1 and 2 but they actually have other titles. Louis Braille is very much a hero of ours. The first album has the Braille for the word ‘Empathy’ on the cover as empathy is, has been and continues to be a hugely resonant concept in my personal journey, potentially life-changing with real compassion at its heart, not pity. The new album has the Braille word ‘Empowerment’ on its cover and this word has become increasingly significant, particularly this year for me.”
Despite citing the Exploding Plastic Inevitable, Stockhausen and Jung as influences, Burning Codes’ emergent roster is an incredibly warm and approachable one. Archer obviously believes it’s possible to challenge people while also writing beautiful music?
“A resounding ‘yes’ with all my heart to this,” he smiles. “Leopold Stokowski said ‘musicians paint their pictures on silence’ – how beautiful! Silence is so powerful and can be ‘deafening’ as is the case with music. I am trying to walk carefully, thoughtfully and as openly and hopefully honestly as possible somewhere between these. I love music. I love silence.”
If Paul’s rhetoric seems more suited to a therapist than a rock star, his day-job as a counsellor goes some way towards explaining why. But while there are heavy (Gestalt-referencing) theories at play in these ‘codes’, they’re carried off in such a subtle and feather-light manner, they’re barely noticeable.
Songs like ‘Can You Hear The Sound’ and ‘Leave A Light On’ emerge dimmer-switch slowly through an accumulation of small, beautifully judged, details. While Archer clearly wants to communicate with an audience, it’s clear that rather than indulge in megaphone diplomacy, he prefers to plead his case by whispering in their ears.
“Absolutely,” he says, “the whole feeling I am trying to convey is a deeply personal, gentle but empowering and empathetic, whisper. When we whisper we have to invest ourselves in an effort to listen intently and it is up close and personal so to speak. These ‘codes’ can I think, hopefully be seen as both deeply personal and at the same time communal. We are all unique but we are all on this journey together and here is where empathy can shine and transform how we think about others, about life and possibly become empowered in deeper more personal ways.”
Archer looks set to keep these codes burning for some time. The question is – when will you light up?