It may seem like hyperbole to suggest that Slow Machete is unlike anything else out there, but finding something with the aesthetic, the background, and the intention of the project would prove difficult for even the most up-to-date and well-versed.
It may seem like hyperbole to suggest that Slow Machete is unlike anything else out there, but finding something with the aesthetic, the background, and the intention of the project would prove difficult for even the most up-to-date and well-versed.
The brainchild of Joseph Shaffer, who crafted Slow Machete’s songs from field recordings made during aid trips to Haiti, the project sees these elements rearranged and reimagined as ethereal webs of sound that lack any sort of immediate comparison.
Electronic yet organic, serene yet ebullient, both of the project’s releases have bonded disparate qualities into a singular whole. In addition to the musical output, Shaffer donates any money made by the project back to those among whom he lived and worked.
Again, it risks hyperbole to suggest that Shaffer’s is some of the most compelling, relevant music being created at the moment, but while the difficulty of finding music so genuine in its intention, so well-realized in its execution, and so devoid of cynicism and irony can be unfortunate, that Shaffer has created what he has is decidedly not.
RVA: Where did the project get started?
JS: North Haiti, near Cap Haitien.
Did you have any musical experience prior to starting Slow Machete?
Nothing significant, though I’ve been recording field sounds (cities, tunnels, birds, etc.) for some time now. It was only over the last few years that I began to piece these together into actual songs.
At what point, recording the field samples, did you have an inkling of what you would do with them?
Regarding the choirs, it was early 2010 when I realized the number of samples I had with a strong emotional vocal ‘moment’ but overall the song was a bad take, or a mistake, or the mics fell over, or a tap-tap bus would drive by, and the song was lost. It seemed like a shame to just delete these. This is what stirred the original ideas of what I could do to preserve the takes. As for the field samples, I record field samples wherever I go, I have five beautiful minutes of rain in Monteverde that I recorded in November that’ll surely find its way all over this next album.
According to what I’ve read, you started making field recordings in Haiti in 2009. How did the earthquake there affect your process and your purpose for creating?
I’ve only traveled to the northern part of the island, I’ve never been to Port Au Prince where the earthquake happened, it’d be disingenuous for me to suggest it significantly influenced these recordings.
What’s the process for construction of the songs?
Lately, for this new album, it almost always starts with a drum. I lean towards 160 BPM, and I go from there. If the song is terrible, I can always strip it back down to the drums.
Did this process change at all between Evening Dust Choir and Mango Tree?
Evening Dust Choir started mostly with choir samples, and I’d build the song around those. Mango Tree was created the same way.
How have you approached the transition to live performance?
I try to incorporate plenty of visual elements. The set is currently very electronic, just myself and another friend from Pittsburgh shuffling instruments for the current run of shows.
Have the contributing musicians heard the work after you’ve assembled it? If so, what did they think of it?
They smile when they recognize their voices in the tracks. It’s one of my favorite reasons for this project, actually. Sometimes when I pitch their voices, they laugh and tell me ‘oh, Joe it is very strange.’ I like that part as well.
Is there a particular element that draws you to the Haitian music beyond your connection with the people you’ve worked amongst, or is it something you could see yourself doing in other circumstances?
Haiti is a musical culture, so they don’t share the timidity of public singing that we often harbor, and they take bigger risks with their harmonies. The element that draws me in is the emotion, this combination of joy and sorrow the songs seem to capture. The church choirs beat any live music show I’ve ever seen. So independently of Slow Machete, I’ll continue to record any and all choirs that allow me the honor to do so. We also make compilations, Son De Soley, of these recordings available to purchase to support our friends.
When you’re not travelling abroad or making music, what do you do? And is it something that informs your work?
I tend to approach songs very slowly; I don’t believe I’ve ever finished a song in less than 3 months. I’m an engineer, which probably affected that discipline over the years.
How much do you want your work to be seen in light of its humanitarian goals versus its purely aesthetic merits?
I only mention the humanitarian intention because it’d be a disservice to the farms and friends which it assists not to mention it. Beyond that, the music and its aesthetic will always be created to be experienced on its own merits.
Oftentimes there’s a cynical preconception (not always warranted, but not always completely off-base either) when approaching projects where somebody from a privileged area incorporates elements from less privileged regions, whether for humanitarian purposes or otherwise, that said project will be steeped in condescension or paternalism. Was this ever a concern when you were approaching your material?
No, this never crossed my mind. The intention was never to swoop in and ‘save’ anything. These singers, in our group, whom I’ve been friends with for five years, happen to be Haitian, as I happen to be from Pittsburgh. I’ve only ever approached this culture believing its music is more beautiful than anything I’ve ever heard, so with regards to simply making good music, our economic situations never influenced why we do this.
Do you consider your material to have a political dimension, however non-literally and non-didactically the term could be used?
I don’t believe so. Most of my songs are about love, death or ghosts.
You’ve only released your music digitally so far. Has operating outside physical constraints (and by extension, outside of much of the established record industry) helped or hindered your project?
Artistically speaking, it’s given us a much wider audience, and more freedom to be selective when and how to price and distribute the music. We work with a good crew of filmmakers and other artists, like SMTG Records, that have also helped us tremendously to get the story out. For us, for now, we’re at a good pace. All of this makes it easier to pay attention to our listeners. For example, we’ve had plenty of requests for vinyl releases, so that’s something we’re exploring at the moment.
You’ve utilized both Slow Machete and the choral recordings you made as benefits. Is there a specific goal in mind, or is it more of an ongoing process to suit the evolving needs of those who are benefitting?
It’s constantly evolving but the main areas of focus are farming, education and medical. Our farming projects help agronomists to become independent farmers, our education projects get our friends through school or trade, and our medical projects help Haitian doctors and nurses via ‘The Espwa Foundation.’ Our Instagram feed has daily posts from this work that is ongoing.
Inversely, do you have particular artistic goals that you’re trying to meet? Or is there even a distinction between the personal relationships you’ve forged during your work in Haiti and the musical endeavors that have arisen from it?
Artistically the goal is to make good music. Not to be a spokesperson, and not to be some cultural ambassador, for any country. I just want to make the visual music I thought was missing from the scene five years ago when we started the project. This project will surely change and evolve. I composed most of our newest album (release this summer) in a cabin in Monteverde during the rainy season. So the aesthetic will surely change, it’d all be a bore if it never did. But these six ladies from Haiti, they’ll be part of Slow Machete until they choose otherwise.
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Slow Machete performs Friday, April 18th at the Black Iris Gallery at 321 W. Broad Street, with Brandon Hurtado, Stephen Vitiello, and Bobby Donne as part of RVA Noise Fest.
Anybody interested in the work the Espwa Foundation is undertaking in Haiti is encouraged to get in contact by emailing slowmachete@gmail.com
