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'Humberstone carries off the very difficult skill of sounding simultaneously world-weary and wide-eyed with wonder. It works because it is sincere, and because Humberstone is both engaged and engaging. But mostly, it works because of its humanity. Given the solitude in which it was written, Midsummer Tideline is a surprisingly sociable album, full of warmth and the vigour of shared creativity, and it adds yet another string to Humberstone’s already impressive bow.' — Thomas Blake, KLOF Magazine
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'[Midsummer Tideline is] a gentle delight, full of sublime pop moments as well as darker passages, that'll have you reaching for the handclap machine and joining in on backing vocals. Beautifully orchestrated once again by Pete Harvey's Pumpkinseeds, Midsummer Tideline simply oozes class throughout, and is already a strong contender for our album of the year 2025.' — Voxbox Music
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Interview - BBC Radio Shetland (14.02.25)
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Interview with Hugh Owen for Oxton Music Group (OMG):
Your writing (both Midsummer Tideline and previous works) seems to draw deeply from your experience of landscape and place, although it doesn't seem to reflect local traditional music forms (not that I can detect anyway). It's most evident in your lyrics, however the music also creates a very evocative sound world which seems very connected to place, although I can't always put my finger on how. How would you describe the way your time on Shetland has seeped into this music (other than the fact it was written there)? Are there particular sounds or rhythms that you use to evoke life on the shore in Shetland?
I write songs as a way to organise thoughts and experiences. It's never something I do intentionally - they tend to spill out in quite a messy and unpredictable way. And it’s only later that I see connections and begin to link things together. So the songs on Midsummer Tideline aren't a deliberate attempt to summon up the Shetland landscape, and there is no direct traditional musical element to them. It's more that they originate in a time when I was working on a research project about Shetland, spending a lot of time in the isles, and that then naturally informed the sorts of songs I was writing.
Some of them do document actual experiences in Shetland though. Granderi started one particularly beautiful morning on Fetlar. We were camped by Tresta Beach and woke as the dawn crept over the headland filling the sky with pink and gold. There is an old belief in the Northern Isles that the sun is pulled through the course of the day by a team of horses. I had a real sense of that that morning - of being an observer to a world filled with magic and wonder. That song is about other things too and it's really a love song, underneath it all. The songs often have multiple meanings and I could go on for hours picking them apart, but I am not sure it ultimately benefits anyone to do that.
I should add that some of the record was written while I was living in Orkney. My partner had a job there for a while and I moved with her to a place in St Margaret's Hope. By day I worked at a little desk overlooking the main road, watching the ferry traffic come and go, and in the evenings I walked along the coast path putting together words and melodies. Visually that area of Orkney is very much connected in my mind with these songs.
Some of them do document actual experiences in Shetland though. Granderi started one particularly beautiful morning on Fetlar. We were camped by Tresta Beach and woke as the dawn crept over the headland filling the sky with pink and gold. There is an old belief in the Northern Isles that the sun is pulled through the course of the day by a team of horses. I had a real sense of that that morning - of being an observer to a world filled with magic and wonder. That song is about other things too and it's really a love song, underneath it all. The songs often have multiple meanings and I could go on for hours picking them apart, but I am not sure it ultimately benefits anyone to do that.
I should add that some of the record was written while I was living in Orkney. My partner had a job there for a while and I moved with her to a place in St Margaret's Hope. By day I worked at a little desk overlooking the main road, watching the ferry traffic come and go, and in the evenings I walked along the coast path putting together words and melodies. Visually that area of Orkney is very much connected in my mind with these songs.
The arrangements on the record are really inspired - from the handclapping on 'Over and Over' (the best use of handclaps in a song since 'I Want to Hold your Hand'?) to the strings and copious use of flute. Reminds me at times of Van's Caledonia Soul Orchestra sound of the early 70s, if that's not too far-fetched. What led you and your collaborators to that specific sound and choice of instrumentation?
What praise, thank you! I listen to a lot of 60s and 70s pop, folk and psych, and I was consciously pushing the instrumentation in that direction. Pete Harvey deserves the credit for the strings. I gave him some simple melodies and he weaved them into the arrangements on the record. He is some sort of wizard.
I like the handclaps on Over and Over, I think they give it momentum. I don't recall whose idea it was to have them, but I do remember Owen running through various rhythm options for them in the studio. Owen is an old friend and I am very lucky to work with him, he's an exceptional drummer and a wonderful person to boot. It was quite intense recording the handclaps though. When a part is that simple and repetitive it's easy overthink things and fall into a vortex of self-reflection. We recorded them facing one another in a circle around a microphone, and I remember Emily and I having to avoid eye contact so we could keep it together!
The Van Morrison reference is a good spot for the flute. I know Sarah, who plays all the amazing flute on this album, had Astral Weeks in mind as a reference. She is improvising quite a few of the parts live, which blows my mind as it's something I could never do. I think I was originally after something like the flute on the Synanthesia LP, and it's not a million miles away from that.
I'd be interested to know about other music that inspires you? I think your music is pretty unique, though inevitably I can hear traces of other things I like (some of which have been mentioned in the KLOF review). Funnily enough my partner, Carys, spotted a similarity between your voice and that of the American musician Karl Blau - especially on Over and Over - which I'd missed. Do you know of him? Fantastic singer and songwriter, who also records and produces most of his own stuff.
I grew up listening to a lot of the people you might expect - Leonard Cohen, Nick Drake etc. I was also very inspired by Phil Elverum (Mount Eerie) and Adrian Orange (Thanksgiving) when I was younger. In the mid-2000s they had an intertwined songwriting output and would sometimes reinterpret each other's songs, to the point where it wasn't clear who had written what. One of those songs was called Do Not Be Afraid / Don't Be Afraid. The song of the same name on Midsummer Tideline is a homage of sorts, although it isn't really related musically.
Karl Blau moves in those same circles and I am a fan. So your partner was on to something there! Many years ago I actually camped at Karl's house. I was playing a tour of the West Coast of the US and we ended up in Anacortes with nowhere to stay. The promoter vaguely knew him and he let us pitch our tents in his back garden. He was very hospitable.
Other than that, I like jazz, folk, film scores and library music - all sorts really. But I do enjoy music that is quite direct in its production, and performed by people who are in a room together breathing the same air. I like performances (and mistakes). It means I listen to a lot of music from the twentieth century, as most contemporary music is too tempo and pitch corrected for my tastes, with barely any dynamics. That's not to say there isn't lots of great music being made today - there is, but sometimes it can feel hard to find.
Karl Blau moves in those same circles and I am a fan. So your partner was on to something there! Many years ago I actually camped at Karl's house. I was playing a tour of the West Coast of the US and we ended up in Anacortes with nowhere to stay. The promoter vaguely knew him and he let us pitch our tents in his back garden. He was very hospitable.
Other than that, I like jazz, folk, film scores and library music - all sorts really. But I do enjoy music that is quite direct in its production, and performed by people who are in a room together breathing the same air. I like performances (and mistakes). It means I listen to a lot of music from the twentieth century, as most contemporary music is too tempo and pitch corrected for my tastes, with barely any dynamics. That's not to say there isn't lots of great music being made today - there is, but sometimes it can feel hard to find.
And finally, I note a gig in the Edinburgh area in July, but any plans to play elsewhere (esp. south of the border)? We're based in the North West of England (Wirral to be specific) and would definitely come! I can imagine logistics are tricky.
I would love to tour this record, but there are no plans to do that at the moment. I am always open to gig offers though so who knows, perhaps I'll make it to the Wirral one day!