Sprawl #3 176 x 246 mm, 48 pages Sprawl is a new Nottingham-based indie mag dedicated to DIY subcultures, music and art. Available both online and in print, and taking inspiration from the scrappy punk fanzines of the late 70s and early 80s, inside you’ll primarily find conversations with scenesters old and new. After hours photographer Mischa Haller sets the tone of this third issue, which features a shot from his recently published photobook ‘Not Going Home’—an ode to 90s club culture—on the cover. Inside, he reflects on his early career, the evolution of the dance floor following seismic shocks such as the collapse of communism and 9/11, as well as what remains once the lights go up. Also featured: Sonic Youth guitarist and vocalist Lee Ranaldo, English rock band Ulrika Spacek, graphic artists Steph Dutton and Imarni Boyer-Nugent, Canadian collective Crack Cloud, and more. Words: MagCulture
There is undeniably a strong visual quality running through the record. With songs defined by restraint and negative space, there is something open, airy and architectural in both melody and image. Gentle guitars trace fine lines across weightier foundations, filling the space with a sense of intention.
Though not consciously conceived in such a way, the album feels carefully constructed, built up through repetition and tension. This sensibility extends beyond the music itself. The accompanying artwork echoes the same attentiveness to precision and perspective. The connection between sound and image, much like the band's writing process, surfaced organically.
"Ellis' partner is an architect and she has a coffee- table book called Never Built Los Angeles by Greg Golding and Sam Lubell, and the idea of an unrealised space for hypothetical people seemed to really resonate with the mood of the music.
We scanned a few images and ultimately settled on the artwork we've got by an American architect called Ray Kappe. We reached out to his family and his son was kind enough to share some more of his designs, which we used for the "Mantras" and "Over the Coals" single covers. I guess our music sort of resembles this architectural drawing as well. There's a lot of fine lines, intricacies and negative space. We see our songs as constructions."
The idea of unrealised space feels central to their music. Shaking Hand's pieces seem to build emotional frameworks for the listener to step into. Although the meticulously stitched-together final form of each song might suggest otherwise, there is a marked openness to their writing process, underscored by the freedom to experiment.
"When we write music it's mostly based on instinct, trust and telepathy. George and Fred are brothers and have been playing music together for years. We don't think about a narrative during the process, and meaning and interpretation start to take shape once the song is written. Lyrically, it's mostly a stream of consciousness and random phrases stitched together, taken from trying to decipher phone recordings of us playing. Perhaps subconsciously these are written as a product of the environment we're in, which results in a theme of sorts."
The landscape from which the band have spread their roots feels intrinsic to the way they have created their sound. Elements of their output seem drawn from the city that surrounds them. Manchester has long maintained an undercurrent fertile for the growth of emerging artists.
"Manchester always feels like a small big city. There's a lot of space, but a lot of familiar faces, and there's a lot of collaboration, particularly since Covid. In terms of how the community shapes the way we work, I don't know how much it does. I'd say part of what makes the scene so good in Manchester at the moment is how distinct the bands are. There's not really anyone trying to imitate anyone else. More than anything, seeing the success of different projects coming from the city is inspiring. It makes you feel like there's a way to break through without having to move to London."
That balance between community and individuality has undoubtedly fed the sense of momentum within the band's arrangements. Whilst many of their songs feel patient and meditative, their presence is never static. Hinged on moments of dynamic shift, the careful contrast between tension and release reveals something playful running through their sound.
"We like having fun while jamming. Sometimes we come up with silly ideas, like the big hits halfway through "Cable Ties", then realise they actually sound quite good, so end up sticking with them. We've realised experimenting with tension and release really works well in a live setting. You can hear audiences audibly reacting to it sometimes, which is great."
Shaking Hand