Werkha: Red Brick Spirit

Image: Werkha

Werkha is perhaps one of the most exciting and versatile young musicians working in the UK. Originally from the Lake District, Werkha, real name Tom Leah, has spent his most recent years, dipping in and out of the city’s eclectic club scene, and as a producer, developing his style that touches, often at once, on electronica, jazz, soul, funk and even folk.

His debut LP, ‘Colours of a Red Brick Raft’ is out now on Tru Thoughts (listen to his track 'FlinchQuiver' from the album below), and frankly, is as smooth of a summer listen as you’re going to find right now.

Werkha is also touring a full live band, including a date at Oval Space London for Global Rhythms. We caught up with Leah just after a move to Glasgow, to talk to the Gilles Peterson effect, linking his influences and the importance of community in music.

What is the significance of the album’s title, ‘Colours of a Red Brick Raft’?

The colours are a reference to different moods and experiences of my time in Manchester, which is the red brick part, and the raft adds the journey to it. It’s try to encapsulate a period of time in which I’ve been in Manchester and kicked this off. And the next one will unlikely to be just a document of my time in Glasgow, I’ll probably move away from that.

Having moved to Glasgow, what do you expect to gain from the city on a creative level?

I just want something I don’t expect, and I think I’ll get that. I suppose I’m used to hanging around with a lot of jazz people in Manchester, and that’s quite different here, the emphasis is in different areas.

I’ll be interested to see if the harder, techno influenced sound of Glasgow has any influence on my sound. There are some wicked producers up here I want to meet, and some studios I’m looking to explore. I’m really looking forward to it all over the next few years.

You grew up in the Lake District, and the influences on the record aren’t those that you’d necessarily associate with that part of the world. How did you end up into such a broad range of sounds?

Place is not so important, when I think about growing p there, because the music we were playing was Herbie Hancock and big band African music. But, for example, on Border Kites on the album, I play my guitar with my fingers. That’s a big part of my sound, and that’s more to do with the style of guitar I grew up with, which was sixties folk. But the soulier, jazzy thing is more of a result of people in those places.

So you were part of a decent community scheme for young people playing music growing up?

Yeah, it was called Blue Jam. A musician called Jilly Jarman who moved to Penrith, and set up a music group with an emphasis on an environment to play samba, and to play jazz. It was all very loose, but there was always the encouragement to get something together.

It was really straightforward, just somebody providing the time and the space for that to happen. And I still go back and teach music production there now, and it’s really nice to go back as I remember what it was like to get that kind of education. It’s actually run by the Mum of Bryony, who features as a vocalist on the album.

Having known her since she was a kid, what’s it like inadvertently collaborating with someone for that long? What freedom and reassurance does that give you as an artist?

As time’s gone on, we’ve become more professional with that understanding and trust, but really we’re still just mates, so that’s why it works. It’s interesting see the dynamics changing now we’re becoming musicians in our own right, now there’s an artistic element to it. Which is really nice! Having projects to work towards, and things to share. But the core of it is an understanding based on having played music with her for a long time.

Having worked predominantly as a solo producer, how have you adapted to having your own band and directing other musicians?

It’s been a massive learning process, it feels like the next bit of the project, like the album’s half the work. However you want to deliver that album is a really important part to it. We have a front of house engineer who helps manage the project when we do stuff as a full live band, which really helps. It’s nice to be able to experience it and just focus in on what you do, given the experiences I’ve had with terrible sound. And it’s been nice to give the musicians some freedom to explore the songs on stage.

You’ve previously been championed by Gilles Peterson, having featured on his Brownswood Bubblers compilation (above) and played on his show. For an artist so early in his career, what does that support mean and what was the impact for you?

It’s pretty amazing to be involved in Brownswood, to be invited to Worldwide festival, to remix for him. I mean, I grew up listening to his late night show on Radio 1. So it’s quite a significant marker for me. And he’s sound, and he’s been supportive all the way through, he’s just one of those people you pay attention to. It’s great to hear his opinions on things, I value it a lot, and the same goes for my label, Tru Thoughts.

Without backing you into a corner or having you define what is a very far reaching record, to somebody unfamiliar with your music, what would you say were the primary musical influences on the record?

Well, an easy way to explain it is that as much I love electronic music, that’s a recent escapade towards my instrumental background. That pushed my interest towards jazz, and then linking that in with the LA Beat scene, as well as people like Bonobo or Quantic, who deal with instrumentals in the club environment.

I suppose other aspects of it are just the very fact I’m holding a guitar in my hand. I remember the first time I saw Mount Kimbie, who do that, and I was really impressed with that element, how they looped things, these walls of sound. So it’s just a blend of guitars and electronics and those wonky LA beats, I feel you can pull those instrumentation styles together, as long as you keep it quite varied.

See Werkha live at Oval Space London on Saturday 1st August.