Growing up in the Ribble Valley – around Wiswell and Clitheroe – I always felt surrounded by more than just countryside. I was surrounded by stories. From the quiet fields to the forests, to the imposing silhouette of Pendle Hill, each view seemed to hold its own melody.
The Ribble Valley is a beautiful part of Lancashire: rolling green pastures, old stone walls, the River Ribble winding through. These landscapes shaped the first half of my album Landscapes – you’ll hear this in tracks like Awakening and Rising Tides, where warm chords and gentle flows reflect early morning light across the fields.
Then there’s Pendle Hill. Quiet at first glance, but it speaks of legend. The 1612 witch trials are part of the lore here, giving the hill a mysterious presence. That darkness and tension found its way into tracks such as Event Horizon and No Fear – deeper basslines, moodier textures, a sense of climbing into unknown weather.
Walking through the valley, there’s also the so-called “Tolkien Trail” whispering in local guides: the notion that some of what J. R. R. Tolkien imagined for Middle-Earth echoes in our little rivers, wooded paths and old bridges. For me it added another layer: the idea that place and myth link together — and that invites music to answer both.
My roots go deeper. Growing up in Wiswell meant small lanes, familiar trees, the steady rhythm of village life. Attending Clitheroe Royal Grammar School brought structure, music lessons, a sense of discipline and discovery. These experiences combined: the freedom of the hills and the craft of the studio.
When I composed Landscapes, I thought about walking through the valley: stepping out early, inhaling the crisp air, reaching a ridge and looking out. I tried to translate that into sound. The tracks are paced like that walk – moments of calm, sudden lifts, quiet reflection, and then release.
When you listen, try to hear those details: maybe the soft hum of a synth like wind through trees, a piano motif like a stepping stone across a stream, a hush behind a beat like the pause before a hilltop view. It’s more than background music – it’s place made audible.
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