Flame Academy

“You know I love the safety demonstrations that the crew run through at the start of flights. I love that phrase: Please do not try to fit someone else’s mask before you fit your own. I think that’s an amazing idea. Sort yourself out first, then you’ll be in the best position to help others. It’s a big challenge.”

Hanging out with Paul Archer is a very different experience from hooking up with most other local songwriters. Part astronaut, part mystic, part life coach – an hour in the company of the former Ghears’ (nee Disraeli Gears) frontman is a funfair ride along wild conversational tangents, with references to Carl Jung’s theories on the collective unconscious arriving hot on the heels of insights into the post-war lot of English conscientious objectors, and the conclusions drawn by the judge at the Nuremburg Trials. Given the intense, Ancient Mariner-esque loop of his chat, it’s no surprise to discover the Bangor man currently resides in a Quaker community on the outskirts of a Leicestershire forest.
“I’m not religious" he says. “But I’m very interested in the whole idea of spirituality. It’s a beautiful place. Deer roam past, there are red kites flying around. I’m used to Northern Ireland, sometimes I can’t really believe I’m there.”
And nor is it much of a shock to discover that the music currently being produced by the bloke is of the other-worldly variety. We’ve mentioned Burning Codes once before (briefly) on this page – back when Davy Matchett chose their first EP to launch his Only Gone label – but with a truly remarkable debut album just recorded, we’ve now been left with no option but to grant them our full attention.
Mysterious, melodic, beautiful and eerily intimate, it’s a record of hushed voices and fireside mantras.
Fans of the Fleet Foxes will love it. So too will Benedictine monks. In fact, if you’ve a half-way functioning heart, chances are you too will be susceptible to the quiet, insistent spell it casts.
“It’s about empathy and empowerment,” he reflects, back home for a series of gigs. “It’s trying to say that we’re all unique. Diversity is a great, important thing. Music should be able to bring people together – to show our communality.”
For much of the ‘90s, Archer was a charismatic and active figure in the Belfast music scene. However, of late he’s dipped way below the radar. In part, this can be explained by his changed domestic circumstances, including his relocation to England with his wife and young family. But he also claims his radio silence was a conscious artistic decision, a move prompted by a desire to dismantle his usual songwriting approach, to start again from scratch.
“I wanted to de-programme myself,” he smiles. “To unlearn the way I made music. I was trying to un-song write, if you know what I mean. Instead of becoming obsessed with coming up with the perfect chord progression, it’s more a case of picking up a feeling and going with it. It’s about conjuring up a sense – the music comes later.”
If all this gives off worrying Metal Machine Music vibes, fear not. In the process of ripping it up and starting again, it’s obvious that Archer was not prepared to sacrifice his gift for gorgeous harmonies. In fact, while the various Gears formations had their fans, Burning Codes represents the highpoint of his career to date.
Which, no doubt, will be a cause of some delight amongst his keenest admirers. Archer is a crucial figure in the recent Belfast music boom. Not only is he the brother of Iain (who mixed ‘Go’ and ‘Searcher’ on the new record), the Gears were an acknowledged influence on Paul ‘Pilot’ Wilkinson and Duke Special. Most significantly of all, they also provided Snow Patrol with both their first significant support slot and, eventually, their drummer, Johnny Quinn.
“Davy Matchett came to me one day and said his mates, Gary and Mark, were in a band called Shrug and they wanted to know if they could play with us. We’d a residency at the time at the Hercules bar on the Ormeau Road and said, of course they could. And we all developed a friendship very quickly. I think it’s wonderful what they’ve gone on to achieve. What they’re still achieving.”
Ask Archer what quality these various boys-done-good have in common, and he doesn’t need to think twice.
“There are some people who just have to do it,” he grins. “It’s a physical and emotional need. They’re lifers, really. Writing a song is like cleaning your teeth, or washing your face. If you didn’t tend to it – there’d be problems, you wouldn’t be well. It’s that thing – if it looks like it works, and it feels like it works, then it works. I’d say that attitude is something we all share.”