Our glorious post-punk anthem Sowing Scorn was once described by Marios as “an anarchic lullaby”, a phrase we were rather impressed by. We all thoroughly enjoyed making this one, and I like to think of it as our equivalent of Not to Touch the Earth, or perhaps our I Wanna Be Your Dog.

It came together during a time of personal upheaval, introspection, turmoil, and the noble task (yet proven a monumental undertaking, that doesn’t forgive if you’re not all in) of sorting out one’s priorities. I vividly remember unloading all my realisations onto Damos (and occasionally the Saint, whenever he came from Italy to visit), down to the finest detail. That period was undisputably key to our friendship further blossoming, something that has only grown stronger since.

Anyway, long story short, the lyrics provide for an instructive read, and serve as a manual on how not to be a c*nt. The hooks underscore how maddeningly difficult it is to break free from the toxic behaviours we’ve been conditioned, consciously or otherwise, to resort to.

As a composition, it might sound straightforward, because it is simple and tidy, but simplicity can be deceptive. It’s message is also seemingly simplistic, but where one is oblivious to something, it might as well not exist for them. Like not knowing your breath reeks, thanks to good old olfactory adaptation. Our subjective experience is limited, and boxed in by the senses we rely on to make sense of the world.

Alex Arnaoutoglou laid down the first riff, using The Smile as a kind of template, or blue print, something Damos would later do for Point of You, cementing what I’d call our signature “Phase” sound. There’s no greater compliment to a songwriter than having your work mirrored by musicians you deeply respect, and imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Case in point: the other day, George (currently filling in for the Saint) turned up at rehearsal, grinning and eager to show me a violin line he’d written, only to later realise that it would be identical to the vocal line from Point of You. To be fair, this sort of thing is to be expected, with new members inevitably absorb the existing style. It’s like writing for The New Yorker or the Times, where you need to adopt the house voice; or like being with someone with children from a previous marriage, where you respect the pre-existing structure.

Mind you, I wasn’t Alex’s only influence. A mate pointed out the riff in the hook bears a suspicious resemblance to Wake as Gun by Porcupine Tree. I’d love to chalk it up to coincidence, but Dim—who played with us for a while—noted that another riff Alex contributed to A Void was a full-blown Opeth knockoff, we managed to replace it with that waltz-y bit you hear now, where the accordions and strings kick in. So, Mr Wilson—if by some miracle you’re reading this—please accept my humble apology. I don’t personally think it’s that similar, but I owe you a pint next time I’m in town. It would cost more than the streaming royalties from the song anyway, what with Spotify’s rates and Kingston’s pub prices.

Originally, we were going to end the track with some mad saxophone licks, something in the spirit of “Lisa Simpson does Luna Lounge” Enter Fardin! His first gig with Phase, stepping in to play whatever needed playing: drums, bass, guitar, triangle, who knows. If it made noise, he made it sing.

The sax unfortunately didn’t make it to the mix, because we didn’t really have the time to edit the parts properly, already having missed our deadline. We might as well release a version including that in the future!

Till next time,

Thanos