In the realm of experimental music, few bands are as inventive and captivating as Ex-Easter Island Head. Hailing from Liverpool, this unassuming quartet has spent the last 15 years crafting a sound that is at once hypnotic, ethereal, and strangely mechanical. By harnessing the power of wind, repurposing outdated tech, and approaching their instruments in boldly unconventional ways, they’ve carved out a unique niche in the world of avant-garde music.
The Art of Playing Quietly
Nestled in a quirky artist commune on the outskirts of Liverpool, the members of Ex-Easter Island Head revel in the opportunity to play softly. “It eliminates any hum so you’re just hearing the strings,” explains Andrew Hunt, who joined the band in 2019 and encouraged the group to ditch their amps. This hushed approach allows the band’s intricate, shimmering sound to unfurl with a delicate precision that draws listeners in.
Harnessing the Wirral Wind
For their latest album, Norther, Ex-Easter Island Head turned to an unexpected collaborator: the blustery gales that sweep across the Wirral Peninsula. By installing an aeolian harp atop Bidston Observatory in Birkenhead, the band captured the eerie, mournful tones produced as the wind caressed the instrument’s strings. “It’s almost like hidden music,” muses Benjamin Duvall, the band’s resident wind enthusiast. “We’re coaching these tonalities and sounds out of instruments that are kind of otherworldly.”
“Aeolian instruments offer an interesting way of engaging with the climate crisis. They’re almost like antennae receiving weather data and reproducing it as sound.”
Benjamin Duvall, Ex-Easter Island Head
Dancing Motors and Singing Phones
Ex-Easter Island Head’s sonic palette is further expanded by their innovative use of haptic motors salvaged from mobile phones. Set loose upon cymbals and guitar strings, these tiny devices produce a sound akin to metallic rainfall, skittering and dancing with an almost lifelike unpredictability. The band also employs their own voices, captured on phones and played back through the strings to haunting effect.
Where Old Tech Meets New Ideas
This blending of vintage and modern technology is central to Ex-Easter Island Head’s ethos. “To some extent what we do is based on a kind of ecological idea of arrangement, placing sounds in relation to each other where they can affect each other,” Hunt explains. By approaching their tools and instruments in unorthodox ways, the band invites listeners to reconsider the very nature of music-making.
The Serious Silliness of Experimental Music
Though their music is often described as “boffiny” or academic, Ex-Easter Island Head never loses sight of the playful absurdity inherent in their work. Their live performances often elicit chuckles from audiences as the band members sing into their phones or coax strange sounds from their contraptions. “Getting a chuckle from the audience is not something every band would get,” admits Jon Hering with a grin.
“If I had to convince some suspicious parent squares from the school gate that Wire magazine art-wank could move them and make them move I would take them to Ex-Easter Island Head, but luckily none of them speak to me.”
Stewart Lee, comedian and Ex-Easter Island Head fan
Teaching the Next Generation to Listen
When they’re not crafting their mesmerizing soundscapes, the members of Ex-Easter Island Head are passionate about sharing their love of experimental music with the next generation. Through workshops and school projects, they encourage young people to approach music with open ears and an adventurous spirit. “It’s really important for musicians too – not just ‘I get up on stage and do my thing and people clap’, but using my skills I’ve honed in all these different contexts and find what it can bring,” Hering explains.
The Beauty of the Collective
Perhaps the most striking aspect of Ex-Easter Island Head’s music is the way in which each member’s contributions interlock to form a shimmering, harmonious whole. “Sometimes when you’re playing and you hear the other person’s sound, you lose ownership of your own. You don’t know where you end and the next person begins,” Duvall muses. It’s a potent metaphor for the power of collaboration and community, both within the band and in the wider world.
As they embark on their latest tour, Ex-Easter Island Head continues to push the boundaries of what music can be. By embracing the chaos of the wind, the quirks of outdated technology, and the joy of collective creation, they invite us all to listen a little more closely to the hidden melodies that surround us.
