Sarah Byrne is an experimental musician and bass player with Art Trip and the Static Sound.
Diaspora:
My Irish ancestry holds a particular musical significance. There is a rich history of people not only observing, but taking part in the production of music and sound. My Dad played the piano and accordion by ear. We were all encouraged to learn an instrument, to learn how to recite poetry and do a “turn”, no matter how simple. Even spoons were considered a valid instrument and something anyone could have a go at. Music, speaking and musicality were an essential part of daily life. In Ireland, the notion of the ceilidh, where you turn up and take part, presents a very different idea to that of music as consumer. Music is firmly centred as a way of retaining folklores, resisting colonial endeavours and seeking post colonial futures. There is a vital significance of music and soundscapes at every event, whether in the celebration of life and birth, to the infamous use of music at wakes, an event where death is turned into a celebration of life, through story telling, poetry and music. Again, the wake is an event which allows everyone to take part, not just those who are considered talented, but using any implement to hand which can produce a sound, a beat, an indent into the occasion. This deeply held cultural exposure has give me a life long love of music and sound and a desire to explore the many layers of sound that we experience, both consciously and subconsciously, learning to listen.
Learning and Musical history:
I learned piano, violin and classical guitar as a child in school. I hated the violin (I was terrible), but loved Spanish classical and the rewarding resonance of the guitar body, which I would listen to by placing my ear level with the wood so I could feel its qualities.
As I grew older, I loved dancing, music and raves and remember the intense feeling of entering the Hacienda, with the booming, reflecting industrial nature of the walls, pipes and ceilings, creating a response inside my body of excitement and sonic interference with my organs. The music seemed to come from within.
As an adult, I was bought a Bass guitar from a cash converter in Islington and at the same time, began to learn sitar with Balujee Shrivastava, wanting to explore different timeframes and learn something complex and beautiful. We formed a seven piece, Jawalamuki, a short lived but interesting venture, performing in France and the infamous all Nations Club in London Fields. Our style was the chill out room including visuals and I began experimenting with found sounds. For example, I would dangle a tiny Sony microphone out of the window ( a fourth floor council flat in Heylyn Square), undertake Brick Lane derives, with same mike poking out of a rucksack, taping the call to prayer and the bustle of the street in the early 90s. We experimented with the sounds different instruments or household appliances could produce. My favourite was the transposition of the sound produced by springs on a floor standing angle-poise lamp, when plucked, which sounded like the deepest of double basses mixed with industrial scraping, or the use of children’s toys to create sinister soundscapes. I attended some sonic arts events at Middlesex University at the time, which gave me inspiration and a different direction.
In 2011, I started playing bass in an all female punk band. The music was entirely original, developing my ability to collaborate and also decide what sound qualities I wanted to work with. I currently play in Art Trip and the Static Sound, a queer black female led punk band. We have gigged extensively in London. Some of the notable moments for me, are when we played for Celeste in a celebration of her mum, Polystyrene, or when we had the opportunity to play with Jordan in a panel. For me, there is also an interest in the idea of a democratisation in the production of music, which I think is partially experienced and represented in the mosh pit or audience response.