The Broken Zoetrope, the debut album from Deadman’s Ghost, is a record nostalgic for a time when the future used to look forward.

With so many musicians now apparently content to pursue a timid, cookie cutter aesthetic, it’s wonderful to discover that Jason Mills, the writer/producer behind the project, prefers to mix up styles with Michelin Star élan.
Pastoral folkadelia nuzzles up to deep space jazz; subterranean beats hang out with their bigger, louder cousins – blimey, there’s even a metal riff or two lurking around and causing trouble.
It’s great, literate, soulful, and slightly unhinged stuff.
“It’s actually just a manifestation of my neurotic musical tastes,” says Jason. “People commented on the stylistic wanderlust of my last EP as well because it contained ukulele finger-picking, Space Rock and a spaghetti western blues jam, but for me it isn’t unnatural that these elements should co-exist. I learned the guitar playing grunge but then became interested in bands that had more of an unconventional approach to songwriting like Love, Porno For Pyros, Spiritualized, Mogwai, Jesu. When I hear something that resonates with me I don’t think, ‘Hmm, I wonder how I would categorise that in terms of genre’, I think, ‘I wonder if I can channel some of the energy from that into what I’m doing’.”
If the album is anything to go by, it’s an approach that reaps rich harvests. However, while the Deadman’s Ghost method seems to privilege the loose and organic (and the influence of acts such as Plaid – who Jason put on in Belfast during his days as a club promoter – can be clearly felt) both musically and lyrically there’s a steel here too.
Songs like ‘Pathos’, ‘All This Fleeting Magic’ and ‘An Unviewed Strip of Corroded Celluloid’ all hum with a barely audible, but barely ignorable anger. There’s politicised sulphur in the bones of these songs.
“Without wanting to sound like a pompous, waffling theorist, I feel like chaos permeates our lives,” Jason avers. “And it’s impossible not to be affected by it. It’s endemic in our natural systems and social structures. Just watching the news is a stark daily reminder of the volatility of everything – we all secretly know that we could be snuffed out by accident, illness or design in an instant. I’ve found that these topics aren’t always popular at parties though, so I stick them in my lyrics instead.”
The album isn’t afraid of allowing its many moments of beauty to exist in direct juxtaposition with more unsettling elements. In fact – from the word go, it’s made clear that the listener is navigating Lynch-ian terrain.
Opening track ‘Deltaville’ is made up of a startling series of samples that provide graphic evidence of what happens when (at the behest of art magazine The Vacuum) you ask residents of Dungannon, Portadown, Ballymena and Coleraine to recount their most vivid nightmares.
“I recorded the whole thing with a cheap dictaphone. It was a surreal experience in itself; some people looked at me as if I’d asked to try on their underwear, others couldn’t think of anything because they’d been put on the spot, but every now and again I’d get a good one from someone who was able to clearly articulate a bizarre scene from their subconscious. When I was listening back to them at home I was struck by the candid way people had described the dark undercurrents of their psyches. I thought using them as samples would add an atmospheric twist to an instrumental guitar part I was working on, so I edited and arranged the best ones. They’ve got a rawness to them.”
At the moment, Jason is on the other side of the world, just about to conclude a spell of travelling. Given how Zoetrope’s release date is looming, you could accuse him of dereliction of duty. But, with such a restless creative spirit, it’s no surprise to learn that he’s putting the time to good use.
“I’ve been living in something of an alternate reality for the last while, “ he reveals. “Moving around a lot, having so many new experiences and adapting to constantly changing situations. I haven’t been making any music for logistical reasons but I’ve been writing a journal and taking field recordings like the white noise of Iguazu Falls, the melodic, synth-like chirping of birds in the Amazon, the haunting and beautiful traditional music played by a group of Cambodian buskers. I’m not sure if or how these things will work their way into any new material but they are there to draw on if the mood strikes. I return to Northern Ireland in May so the summer will be a period of readjustment and reflection and during this time I intend to start working on new tracks. They might be rubbish though cos I’ve probably forgotten how to write chord progressions by now!”
 
The Broken Zeotrope is released on
Umor Rex