O YUKI CONJUGATE

You've answered your own question. In a highly digitized, sanitised sound world, I'm drawn to anything that sounds human-made, rough-around-the-edges, gritty and raw. For me, "dirty ambient" is about embracing imperfection or not seeking it at all. It's what the world needs.

I have no boredom today. I genuinely wish there was more boredom around now, because in the 70s and 80s when we grew up it was everywhere. It seems in today's world boredom is a crime, whereas I see it as a catalyst to create, a massively positive thing.

I honestly don't know, but part of trying to be instinctive in my music making is not worrying too much about issues like that. In my case that's helped by minimising contact with "our modern, hyper-saturated digital culture". I just don't spend much time online for entertainment. People should give it a go, it's remarkably refreshing.

Excellent questions! At first our physical separation removed creative friction because we could both just do our own thing, then it amplified it because we couldn't find a way to successfully combine the stuff we'd done separately, which was our original intention. Eventually we were able to transcend all that by doing the obvious thing and keeping the material separate as two solo releases. In the end I think that was healthy as we got it out of our systems and realised that in fact we're better together and actually need each other. So a happy ending.

It proved our co-dependency.

Our toxic co-dependency.

The biggest loss for me is the positive benefit of time pressure. Knowing that every hour costs $$$ focusses the mind wonderfully. I truly, truly hate the endless revisions and fiddling that home production makes possible/inevitable. It boils my piss. More importantly, it almost never makes things better as little by little all the rough edges, the dirty ambient bits if you like, get tidied up and the features that made something interesting in the first place get smoothed out.

Personally I love endless revisions as that's how you can craft a work. Just recording stuff doesn't mean the track you produce is any good, but sculpting it can create something different. It's all very well taking a philistine stance but somebody has to do the dirty work. Another tension of opposites there, I notice.

Wait, what's that sound I can hear? Ah yes, it's my piss starting to boil.

You should record it.

When we came to make the Sleepwalker set we wanted a theme and I happened to have a book full of dreams I'd written down over the years. These seemed like a good source of material. So a combination of word, image and music all being worked on at the same time produced that particular album and live set. Ironically we called our box set 'Ambiguism', a phrase we coined to mean exactly that: the place between word, image and music.

"Superior" is debatable of course, but a classic example is accidentally dialling up the "wrong" sound or settings for a part you thought was settled, only to realise it's far better like that and the 4 hours you spent sweating over the original was a waste of time. So now I often try doing that deliberately. Once I've got something I'm happy with, I'll deliberately stress test it by playing it using the wrong patch or at the wrong volume to see if in fact it's better that way. It's amazing how crap ideas I was certain were right can be.

We rarely if ever tried to reflect or capture the sound of the industrial decay around us, for example by making field recordings. We went the other way by creating imaginary sonic landscapes that deliberately rejected all the gloom we saw. So it was escapism, really. And I suppose we're still trying to escape our pasts. Yeah, good luck with that.

I think the "industrial" scene we were (marginally) part of thrived on the feeling and imagery of decaying industry, the 'grim, grey and great' northern badlands. We grew up in pit towns that were being run down by Thatcher, full of violence and hardened nutters so, as the sensitive characters we were, we escaped into our imaginations, as Roger said. Does this still echo down the years? Only in the endless revision of the past that has become the nostalgia industry, whether that's 80s pop muzak or the box set of the DIY bedroom musician. We're forever going back to this era as if we're trapped in a nostalgia loop. Weirdly we believe it was a better time than the one we're living in. A complete fallacy cos it was actually shite at the time. It's just that the music was a lot better and we can't escape that.

The whole "perfumed garden" side of ambient does indeed lend itself to passive listening. But there's nothing inevitable about that, it's just how individual practitioners have chosen to interpret the basic sound template. For example I wouldn't say Eno's work is like that. In our case we react against it with the whole dirty ambient vibe. It's a big part of why we take that approach.

I think you have to look at the history of ambient. Initially it was an intellectual idea that was shunned at the time. People laughed and mocked the very idea of passive listening. Then of course rave arrived at the end of the 80s and chill out rooms developed. Suddenly everyone understood that this 'quiet' music had a use. And as a consequence ambient took a commercial turn. It was at that point that I personally got quite annoyed with the passive idea of it and I think you can hear in our music that we had a darker edge around the Peyote/Equator periods. I remember in an interview saying something like "ambient music doesn't make me calm it makes me angry".

Very satisfying and validating. Also rather amusing, considering how primitive the recording process and technology was.

A pleasure to have been invited to compile a box set, who wouldn't be flattered?

Partly that's about the sounds we use, and partly it's about resisting the obvious, like say putting a four-on-the-floor kick drum on the track. But it isn't too much of an issue because adding club-oriented electronic dance rhythms to our tracks would sound silly. Many decades ago we had a brief attempt at merging ambient and dance, and it was never successful, so we don't go there these days.

For me this is about the tools you use. If you use Ableton then you'll invariably end up doing the same things as everyone else.

Er, I'll tell you afterwards. Personally I love contrasts, so if we're different to the acts on stage before and after us then for me that can only be a good thing. Whether the audience agrees is another matter.

The more different we are the better. This whole scene should really be a celebration of the music and sounds that have developed from 'industrial' music. I hope it's not stuck in obvious cliches.

We called it 'dirty ambient' as a way of reminding ourselves to stop making such clean music. Grub it up, make it dirty, embrace your imperfections. Also it was a dig at the genre, ie, "are you playing that dirty ambient music again?"

There really was a dog there, on the recording you can hear the poor beast barking in distress. What that empty room confirmed is what I still think: I just don't give a flying f*ck about popularity provided what we do satisfies us and works in its own terms. I don't think success, er, what success?, has changed that.

I don't think we understood a single thing at that moment. We were 18 and completely naive. We're now 60 and still haven't learned anything.

Actually I think we have learned from our mistakes. We must have, because we regularly repeat them almost exactly.

We didn't think about it in 1982, no one did. It just wasn't on anyone's agenda. Today? Clearly caution is required. But for me, provided something is done with respect and comes from a place of love then it's fine. To say it's always 100% wrong to use elements originating in other cultures is absurd.

At that time we stole things from the local library because we loved the sound of them. There's a charm and naivety to that. We live in such a different world now where everything is analysed and pored over for its correct political position. So boring, really. If you want to line us up against the wall and shoot us for the retroactive crime of 'cultural imperialism' go ahead.

The latter. We just had material that fell into two distinct groups, and keeping like with like was the obvious solution. Plus it makes for a more interesting listening experience. We didn't overthink stuff in those days. Or indeed now, if we can help it.

You could see it as the original 'tension of opposites' of course? You can also see it as one side being the past, the other side as the future. This is where we came from (electronic), this is where we're going (organic).

I never thought of it being the original TOO! So true. Basically we've never agreed on anything.

Yes we have.

No we haven't.

The original session with the previous members was an experiment that was fun. Ironically the end result (the album 'OYC25') took forever to edit and mix. Maybe we should learn something from that.

I don't think so. Not engaging is by its nature easier than engaging. The thing is, we've used that term since 1982, so it's not exactly a reaction to today's hyper promotional world. It's just who we are: inward-looking and antisocial. It's not a manifesto.

Maybe not a manifesto but a method of existing, something to remind ourselves that it's not important to play the game, have an album, go on tour, do promotion. In the end who cares? Only us, by making the music we like. If others like it then great. If not, so what?

Are we actually ambient, in the classic sense of making music that occupies a place in the overall listening environment but doesn't seek to dominate it? Probably not. We certainly use ambient ideas and techniques, but rhythm, bass etc are integral to our sound. I certainly want people to actively listen and engage with our stuff. But if they want to do the washing up at the same time that's cool too.

I deliberately set out to make long tracks that are for immersive listening and not close scrutiny. Someone once said of our music "are they stoned?" And I take that as a compliment.

We invented nothing. We copied. The one finger thing was because the other fingers refused to cooperate, not because we were making a profound statement against musicianship. But to answer your question, we moved on multiple times back then, often quite quickly. Accelerated evolution just seemed natural. It goes back to the "proceed by instinct" thing: if it feels time to do something different, it probably is.

Can I just add that we haven't moved on from the 'one finger Vangelis' approach.

I wish I had a cool, arty answer. I don't.

I'll try. The fixed relationship is the tension of opposites. Two forces pulling apart but bound together in mutual tension. The name however is an irrelevancy, an arty binding of words to produce a suitably intriguing and mysterious effect.

I feel hugely amused. Our most successful track on Spotify got that way because folks started using it for meditation and as, and I quote, "the perfect soundtrack for your craftanoon". If I can accompany someone's basket weaving then happy days.

I marvel at the way this particular strain of music we attached ourselves to has developed. It wasn't even a genre at all, now it's commercial yoga music. It's just a laugh isn't it? You can't get angry about this shit or you'd implode. At least we were there at the beginning and had a role to play in something, the same as in the post-industrial scene. I'm very grateful we did our small part and are still here to tell the tale.

Some sort of tension of opposites that tries, and fails, to resolve the agendas of the makers.

We have a certain recognisable sound, unmistakably us. That's a consistent through-line. The sheer duration of our existence, making endless variations of this sound, inevitably gives it some kind of worth and credibility. A bit like a mad artist. In the end someone will recognise the achievement. We hope.

We'll be perfect when we're dead. We all will be.