Does Anyone Read Liner Notes Anymore?

Full disclosure: this post is entirely self-serving. And yet, in an age where everyone is shouting into the void, I still feel the need to apologise for promoting my own music on my own blog. Strange times.
So, if you're not up for discovering your new favourite EP (😜), feel free to click away now.

Still here? Lovely. Let’s continue.

If you read my recent post, Faith, Music & The Spaces Inbetween, you'll know I have a new cinematic, ambient drone EP landing on April 20th.

Faith, Music, and the Spaces In Between

The EP is a short but sincere exploration of my often ambivalent relationship with faith and organised religion.

I’m immensely proud of these pieces. To my ear, they capture something of the contemplative stillness I feel in sacred spaces - the clarity, the moments of inner freedom - as well as the more uneasy tension that comes from grappling with something as weighty as The Church… and the impossible ideal of being ‘a good person’.

Of course, it’s no longer enough to simply release music and hope it finds the right ears. We are required to “create content” (a phrase I can barely say without flinching). So with that in mind, I’ve written a short piece for each track, exploring the thought processes and symbolism behind them.

Despite not being a writer, I enjoyed the challenge of putting the music into words - of finding something suitably eloquent and poetic to accompany the sounds.

I hope you enjoy both the music and the reflections - and if you're interested, mark April 20th in your diary.
(Yes, Easter Sunday. That timing is very much intentional.)

01. Sometimes, When I’m Cold:

Quite literally taking the idea of what brings you warmth, this track is built around the sound of the log burner in my living room - the hiss and pop of firewood offering the perfect foundation to explore a deeper warmth: that of faith.

A low, slowly shifting organ drone underpins the piece, while a single cello melody wanders freely - safe, secure, and warm. Above it, icy violin notes flicker, a reminder of the frozen bleakness that waits beyond the comfort of belief.

Though cast in a minor key, with moments of dissonance, the track gently questions whether all is as it seems. However for now, it’s better to stay indoors.

02. No Warmth, No Life:

Simple piano chords toll like church bells, summoning the congregation - but the dark, sombre minor setting hints at a deeper tension: the pull between doing what’s ‘right’ and the weight of what’s ‘expected.’

A reed organ cuts through the texture - a clear nod to the instrument at the heart of so many Western churches - while a relentless, almost coercive Alberti bass drives us toward a final climax, reinforcing the unspoken imperative to attend.

Despite the track’s oppressive atmosphere, the ever-present bass drone offers a kind of warmth. But it’s the warmth of a familiar smile masking something more sinister - a friendly face with a hidden agenda.

03. Repose Of The Souls:

Gently shifting harmonies explore the tension between major and minor - a sonic depiction of opposites: warm and cold, Heaven and Hell, light and dark - presented in a choral setting.

The piece has been treated to give a slightly disquieting audio ‘flicker’, like that of a single altar candle - a fragile, wavering light meant to suggest impermanence: an insubstantial veil that offers little real protection from the world outside.

The warm embrace of meditation, spiritual or otherwise, is interrupted by an insistent tolling. It could be a droplet - an anointment, a baptism - or the resonant strike of a prayer bowl. However, it reminds us that for all the freedom, warmth, and repose that meditation offers, there are always other, more pressing responsibilities waiting beyond the stillness

04. Acceptance:

Piano ‘bells’ ring out once more - this time with a sense of hope. There’s opportunity in their tone, a quiet optimism.

Though traces of dissonance still surface, suggesting moments of uncertainty, they are balanced by curious, inquisitive chimes - like basking in the coloured warmth of a brightly lit stained glass window.

Higher choral voices introduce a lighter, less burdened tone, invoking a gentle euphoria. Culminating in the unmistakable tierce de Picardie - the shift to a major third - the piece feels like a joyful acceptance of the light that burns within so many: a glow that warms the hearts of all who welcome it.

05. Sunrise Through Stained Glass:

Undeniably hopeful, from its title to the opening major chord, this piece effervesces with optimism.

A warm glow radiates from the strings, enveloping us in a comforting embrace, inviting all to bask in its colours and warmth. ‘Sprinkles’ of shimmering light catch the ear, while high violins lead us forward, guiding our path.

Every new beginning carries its share of trepidation, signalled here by subtle dissonances and a low drone. However, the warmth and power of the swift resolution lift us to a triumphant, assured place - full of promise and opportunity.

Thank you for taking the time to listen. It’s not exciting music per se, but I do find myself coming back to it as a sort of refuge for the mind.

When it all gets too much, when life leaves me cold, this EP brings me warmth.

What Brings You Warmth will be out via tobyjamesmusic.bandcamp.com on 20th April 2025. I do hope you’ll consider getting a copy.

Toby. x