“Thunderous, and yet somehow also reflective, this album offers a haunting dialogue between the musicians. Betamax drives the music with motoric rhythm, while Bell is seemingly searching for something more sophisticated.”

London’s avant-garde, attempted to master in his youth the delicate art of the Shakuhachi - the infamously difficult-to-play bamboo flute that whiffs of a certain Japanese Zen aroma. After many years of travelling south east Asia in the 70s, seeking out the teachings of many flute and reed traditions, Clive Bell eventually gave up his quest and returned to London exhausted and confused. Horrified by the omnipresent egos of popular music, he was drawn back towards the dark currents of London’s free-improv gutter, where upon he was encouraged by his peers to live in a squat, and participate in abrasive noise experiments typical of the London improvising epidemic that persisted throughout the 80s.

Whilst immersed by this subculture, Bell was to bear his only child that we know of to this day - Maxwell Hallett, later to be known as ‘Betamax’. Bell immediately refused to teach any music to Betamax, hoping greater things and opportunities might lead Max away to a more financially comfortable and spiritually rewarding occupation. Alas Clive was unable to protect his son from the strong seductive forces of London’s prevalent musical subcultures.