Music

Not for nothing did the sharp-dressed dude now taking coffee in a tiny Soho café call his compilation album from 1999 ‘The Murky World Of Barry Adamson’. The former bass player with both Magazine and the Bad Seeds has, since his departure from the latter in 1987, carved a distinctive name for himself with his dramatic, decidedly noir-ish soundtracks, many of them written for films in Adamson’s own imagination, although he has penned scores for existent movies – David Lynch’s ‘Lost Highway’ among them. Whether for films fictional or real, Adamson’s work has always been characterised by its blend of shadowy, ineffable cool and sly, postmodern wit, which sources ’60s spy thrillers, old B-movies and spaghetti westerns, thus lining Adamson up alongside Ennio Morricone, John Barry, Bernard Herrmann and Lalo Schifrin. Feature continues

Perhaps it’s no surprise, then, that in conversation Adamson is – although charming and not exactly secretive – then certainly elliptical and at times plain obtuse. He’s a musician whose chosen field necessarily backgrounds its creator and he clearly enjoys The Dance. If he doesn’t want to answer a question directly, then – politely and playfully – he’ll refuse. It’s hard to argue with him.

We’re here to talk about Central Control, a brand new project which has been quietly gestating over the last couple of years, as Adamson was winding down his long-term relationship with Mute Records and moving away from the idea of being a purely solo artist. Still in its very early days, Central Control is shaping up to be a kind of Warholian Factory affair – minus the skin flicks and drugs – providing an umbrella for artists from a range of different disciplines, but chiefly music, film and writing, these being Adamson’s own passions.

‘I see Central Control as an extension of what I’ve always tried to bring to the table and be inspired by,’ he explains. ‘It’s about self-generated freedom, the rewards being not so much financial as fulfilment of the self – not in a selfish way, but in a giving way. Starting out in the days of punk rock was a call to artistic arms for me and that spirit has stayed all the way through my career. On one level, it’s a company like any other but what I want to infuse Central Control with is the idea of manufacturing art that anyone can make. It’s not about having to have had a certain schooling or pedigree, or a guaranteed sale in place. What I want to do is attract other people of a similar ilk under the umbrella of an art house with a common goal.