Craven Faults makes a soaring maiden voyage with the cascading, krauty flights of Netherfield Works on Lowfold Works. Imagine Klaus Schulze on a magic carpet from Ikea flying over Ilkley Moor while supping from a flask of Tetley; you’ve got the vibe.
“Netherfield Works is the debut release from Craven Faults. Two long form pieces for half-remembered journeys across post-industrial Yorkshire. On first impression it appears to be a journey through a uniform landscape, past familiar mills, peaks and dales. Until you start to notice the details. The devil’s in the details. It occupies your peripheral vision. It leaves you questioning how you arrived where you did. How did we get here?
It almost certainly started in Düsseldorf or Köln. Or possibly The San Francisco Tape Music Centre. It’s not important. The journey to Yorkshire is somewhat hazy. Hansa by the Wall, 1977. Stockholm’s Museum Of Modern Art, 1968. Maida Vale, 1963. Rugby, 1986. It enters Yorkshire via Kingston-upon-Hull. Although, even that isn’t set in stone. It’s not important. It’s important to ask the question every now and then. The answers less so.
Banks of vintage equipment. A master craftsman at work in a nest of patch cables within an old textile mill. The tracks appear at their own pace. They gestate between recording sessions for other artists. There are guests on ‘Tenter Ground’. The single take drums deserve a special mention: a study in restraint and execution. ‘Eller Ghyll’ is perhaps a better signpost. From humble beginnings: a trickle into a mighty torrent. How did we get here?”
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Craven Faults makes a soaring maiden voyage with the cascading, krauty flights of Netherfield Works on Lowfold Works. Imagine Klaus Schulze on a magic carpet from Ikea flying over Ilkley Moor while supping from a flask of Tetley; you’ve got the vibe.
“Netherfield Works is the debut release from Craven Faults. Two long form pieces for half-remembered journeys across post-industrial Yorkshire. On first impression it appears to be a journey through a uniform landscape, past familiar mills, peaks and dales. Until you start to notice the details. The devil’s in the details. It occupies your peripheral vision. It leaves you questioning how you arrived where you did. How did we get here?
It almost certainly started in Düsseldorf or Köln. Or possibly The San Francisco Tape Music Centre. It’s not important. The journey to Yorkshire is somewhat hazy. Hansa by the Wall, 1977. Stockholm’s Museum Of Modern Art, 1968. Maida Vale, 1963. Rugby, 1986. It enters Yorkshire via Kingston-upon-Hull. Although, even that isn’t set in stone. It’s not important. It’s important to ask the question every now and then. The answers less so.
Banks of vintage equipment. A master craftsman at work in a nest of patch cables within an old textile mill. The tracks appear at their own pace. They gestate between recording sessions for other artists. There are guests on ‘Tenter Ground’. The single take drums deserve a special mention: a study in restraint and execution. ‘Eller Ghyll’ is perhaps a better signpost. From humble beginnings: a trickle into a mighty torrent. How did we get here?”
Craven Faults makes a soaring maiden voyage with the cascading, krauty flights of Netherfield Works on Lowfold Works. Imagine Klaus Schulze on a magic carpet from Ikea flying over Ilkley Moor while supping from a flask of Tetley; you’ve got the vibe.
“Netherfield Works is the debut release from Craven Faults. Two long form pieces for half-remembered journeys across post-industrial Yorkshire. On first impression it appears to be a journey through a uniform landscape, past familiar mills, peaks and dales. Until you start to notice the details. The devil’s in the details. It occupies your peripheral vision. It leaves you questioning how you arrived where you did. How did we get here?
It almost certainly started in Düsseldorf or Köln. Or possibly The San Francisco Tape Music Centre. It’s not important. The journey to Yorkshire is somewhat hazy. Hansa by the Wall, 1977. Stockholm’s Museum Of Modern Art, 1968. Maida Vale, 1963. Rugby, 1986. It enters Yorkshire via Kingston-upon-Hull. Although, even that isn’t set in stone. It’s not important. It’s important to ask the question every now and then. The answers less so.
Banks of vintage equipment. A master craftsman at work in a nest of patch cables within an old textile mill. The tracks appear at their own pace. They gestate between recording sessions for other artists. There are guests on ‘Tenter Ground’. The single take drums deserve a special mention: a study in restraint and execution. ‘Eller Ghyll’ is perhaps a better signpost. From humble beginnings: a trickle into a mighty torrent. How did we get here?”
Craven Faults makes a soaring maiden voyage with the cascading, krauty flights of Netherfield Works on Lowfold Works. Imagine Klaus Schulze on a magic carpet from Ikea flying over Ilkley Moor while supping from a flask of Tetley; you’ve got the vibe.
“Netherfield Works is the debut release from Craven Faults. Two long form pieces for half-remembered journeys across post-industrial Yorkshire. On first impression it appears to be a journey through a uniform landscape, past familiar mills, peaks and dales. Until you start to notice the details. The devil’s in the details. It occupies your peripheral vision. It leaves you questioning how you arrived where you did. How did we get here?
It almost certainly started in Düsseldorf or Köln. Or possibly The San Francisco Tape Music Centre. It’s not important. The journey to Yorkshire is somewhat hazy. Hansa by the Wall, 1977. Stockholm’s Museum Of Modern Art, 1968. Maida Vale, 1963. Rugby, 1986. It enters Yorkshire via Kingston-upon-Hull. Although, even that isn’t set in stone. It’s not important. It’s important to ask the question every now and then. The answers less so.
Banks of vintage equipment. A master craftsman at work in a nest of patch cables within an old textile mill. The tracks appear at their own pace. They gestate between recording sessions for other artists. There are guests on ‘Tenter Ground’. The single take drums deserve a special mention: a study in restraint and execution. ‘Eller Ghyll’ is perhaps a better signpost. From humble beginnings: a trickle into a mighty torrent. How did we get here?”
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Craven Faults makes a soaring maiden voyage with the cascading, krauty flights of Netherfield Works on Lowfold Works. Imagine Klaus Schulze on a magic carpet from Ikea flying over Ilkley Moor while supping from a flask of Tetley; you’ve got the vibe.
“Netherfield Works is the debut release from Craven Faults. Two long form pieces for half-remembered journeys across post-industrial Yorkshire. On first impression it appears to be a journey through a uniform landscape, past familiar mills, peaks and dales. Until you start to notice the details. The devil’s in the details. It occupies your peripheral vision. It leaves you questioning how you arrived where you did. How did we get here?
It almost certainly started in Düsseldorf or Köln. Or possibly The San Francisco Tape Music Centre. It’s not important. The journey to Yorkshire is somewhat hazy. Hansa by the Wall, 1977. Stockholm’s Museum Of Modern Art, 1968. Maida Vale, 1963. Rugby, 1986. It enters Yorkshire via Kingston-upon-Hull. Although, even that isn’t set in stone. It’s not important. It’s important to ask the question every now and then. The answers less so.
Banks of vintage equipment. A master craftsman at work in a nest of patch cables within an old textile mill. The tracks appear at their own pace. They gestate between recording sessions for other artists. There are guests on ‘Tenter Ground’. The single take drums deserve a special mention: a study in restraint and execution. ‘Eller Ghyll’ is perhaps a better signpost. From humble beginnings: a trickle into a mighty torrent. How did we get here?”