Thinking in Sound: Will Bates on Searching for the ‘Eureka Moment'
Will Bates is an award-winning composer, multi-instrumentalist and founder of Fall On Your Sword. Bates has composed original scores for a myriad of filmmakers including acclaimed directors Mike Cahill ('Another Earth'; 'I Origins'; 'Bliss'), Alex Gibney ('We Steal Secrets: The Story of Wikileaks'; 'Going Clear: Scientology and the Prison of Belief'; 'Zero Days; The Forever Prisoner'), Ry Russo-Young ('You Won’t Miss Me'; 'Nobody Walks') and Fisher Stevens ('Mission Blue'; 'Bright Lights').
Bates’ recent projects include NEON’s 'Immaculate', directed by Michael Mohan and starring Sydney Sweeney, which premiered at the 2024 SXSW film festival on March 12th and hit theatres on March 20th; and Dark Sky Films’ 'Blackout', directed by Larry Fessenden and starring Marshall Bell, which hit theatres (limited run) on March 13th.
As a solo artist and multi-instrumentalist, Bates has recorded and toured around the globe under the name of his own post-punk band 'The Rinse' and has collaborated with 'Electric Six' frontman Dick Valentine as 'The Evil Cowards'. As a saxophonist, Bates has collaborated with legendary artists ranging from 60's icon Lulu to techno legend Marshall Jefferson. As a producer and composer, he has worked with a similarly diverse bunch including Mike Rutherford, Roy Ayers, Pussy Riot and Morcheeba's Skye Edwards.
In 2007, Bates created the first of a series of videos under the name Fall On Your Sword. His videos quickly went viral on YouTube, racking up hits in the millions and an explosive FOYS live act soon followed. In 2009, Fall On Your Sword evolved into a music production company. Bates currently resides in Los Angeles.
LBB> When you’re working on a new brief or project, what’s your typical starting point? How do you break it down and how do you like to generate your ideas or response?
Will> The first thing I do when starting a new project is drive everyone around me crazy as I panic and complain that there are no melodies left in the universe, that John Williams used up the last one and I should just quit. Eventually I always stumble on some seed of an idea and then I disappear down the creative rabbit hole. But getting to that initial seed is the scary part, also the fun part. I tend to source a new instrument or a new sound that is specific to a project. And create a kind of soup of sound that is unique to that project.
Melodies are born out of that sonic soup, the starting point. Sometimes it happens immediately, sometimes it takes a minute. But it always comes in the end. Something I have to constantly remind myself!
LBB> Music and sound are in some ways the most collaborative and interactive forms of creativity - what are your thoughts on this? Do you prefer to work solo or with a gang - and what are some of your most memorable professional collaborations?
Will> I grew up playing in bands, at first as a sax player, later as a lead singer, band leader and composer. I love the collaborative process. But I’ve also realised that I have to be the boss. Perhaps something of a Napoleonic streak there? I can be very self-conscious at the start of a project. When I’m still stumbling around in the dark I prefer to do that part alone, but once I’m on a path towards victory I love to open it up to collaborators and see how the idea can develop with someone else's interpretive input.
I’ve been at this for a while, and have a close knit crew of collaborators and maniacs who I consider family at this point. Those people include my childhood friend Quentin Collins who is now one of London’s top jazz trumpet players. We’ve got into all sorts of mischief over the years, and as someone who’s known me a long time he’s allowed admittance into the inner-sactum during the early part of the process when I’m still clawing at a piano trying to conjure some magic.
Spencer Cohen is a magician with rhythm, a wonderful drummer and percussionist who will always find some unthought of alternative, and my strings guy is the remarkable Lev “Ljova” Zhurbin. Having him interpret my string parts has made me understand the immeasurable distance between machine and human based performance.
I once had him play one sustained note for 5 minutes in a certain scene of an erotic thriller starring Sydney Sweeney. Would’ve sounded totally ridiculous on a soft-synth. But he made it sing. Something which is impossible to explain.
Working with singers is something I particularly cherish. I squawked away in an indie band in New York for a number of years but have never considered myself a singer.
However I have had the good fortune of collaborating with some experts. Skye Edwards of Morcheeba; she and I have made a bunch of songs together over the years. She’s a dear friend and someone who is so humble and chill, until she’s in front of a mic when she just transforms. And she can transform a song into something so special.
I have a side project with Dick Valentine of Electric Six. He and I have a project called The Evil Cowards. And he’s very similar to Skye in that he also has that transformative gift. Although his soaring growl is possibly the antithesis to Skye’s velvet tones!
I also had a wonderful experience a couple years back with Bishop Briggs. We co-wrote the main titles of a show called The Devil In Ohio, she’s extraordinary.
When I was a kid, my dad used to take me to the boxing. He felt that stand-up comedians and boxers were the bravest and most remarkable of all performers. But I would add singers to that list. The soloists who aren’t anchored behind an instrument. Just raw talent.
LBB> What’s the most satisfying part of your job and why?
Will> There’s always a kind of ‘eureka moment’ that I’m searching for. Finding that melody or sound that’s intrinsically linked to what’s on screen. The notion that one couldn’t live without the other. Finding that thing, and getting that buzz is what it’s all about for me. Sometimes it feels that everything that happens afterwards is a kind of celebration of that event, that’s when it feels like it’s writing itself which I love.
LBB> As the advertising industry changes, how do you think the role of music and sound is changing with it?
Will> When we started Fall On Your Sword we positioned ourselves as this alternative to the more corporate larger music houses. Something cooler, more bespoke and boutique, with an attention to detail that would be different and unexpected. We’ve watched as most of those larger houses have either disappeared or been absorbed into huge music libraries and catalogues. And now we find ourselves competing with just a massive amount of widely available and cheaper library alternatives.
But working in film and TV has shown me that there will always be a need for that human collaboration, the massive amount of choice has given even more need for an expert’s insight. Anyone can walk into a record store, but not everyone knows what to buy.
We’ve also found that it’s become more and more popular to blend the music and sound design experience. As a composer I’ve always lived in that grey area where sound design ends and music begins. And as a company we embraced that space early on. Now more than ever that seems to be relevant and film makers and creatives understand the power of that meeting point.
LBB> Who are your musical or audio heroes and why?
Will> When I was 6 years old I sang the entire score of Star Wars to my parents. They promptly went out and bought me a violin which I then tortured them with until I was given a saxophone. So John Williams has a lot to answer for. When I first understood that one person had written all those melodies I was humming I realised that’s what I wanted to be when I grew up.
The first record I bought was Ennio Morricone’s score to The Good, The Bad And The Ugly. It’s become so ingrained in our pop culture, but to imagine that one person could combine all those colours and have them actually make sense is still amazing to me.
I adore Miles Davis. His constant re-invention, his use of negative space, his collaborations with Gil Evans are a huge inspiration. Again, all those amazing colours. Vangelis’ score to Bladerunner started an obsession with analogue synths, as well as listening to a lot of early Prodigy records and other house and techno of the late 90s that left its mark on me.
LBB> And when it comes to your particular field, whether sound design or composing, are there any particular ideas or pioneers that you go back to frequently or who really influence your thinking about the work you do?
Will> My wife is a painter. And she shares this work ethic from Francis Bacon, that there is no true lightening bolt of inspiration. That moment only comes from regular work, and honing the craft through discipline is a route to true creativity. I think Brian Eno has a similar work ethic. And it doesn’t mean it can’t be fun and deeply rewarding, but I try to structure my work days with a similar attitude.
LBB> When you’re working on something that isn’t directly sound design or music - are you the sort of person who needs music and noise in the background or is that completely distracting to you? What are your thoughts on ‘background’ sound and music as you work?
Will> I’m not very good at listening to music while doing a task (other than maybe the washing up)
Silence is probably best, or I’d drift off and start listening too hard.
LBB> I guess the quality of the listening experience and the context that audiences listen to music/sound in has changed over the years. There’s the switch from analogue to digital and now we seem to be divided between bad-ass surround-sound immersive experiences and on-the-go, low quality sound how does that factor into how you approach your work?
Will> As a composer I have to say it hasn’t altered much for me. I write in stereo and honestly I think it’ll always be that way. I have so many other sonic choices to make that deciding which speaker things should come out of seems like a distraction. And I believe that should be someone else’s decision anyway.
I love handing over my stems to the mix stage and hear where the mixer has placed them. In that world, of course things have changed tremendously. My first experience of Atmos was at Skywalker, I scored an indie movie that went to Sundance and had won the Dolby grant to allow it to be mixed in Atmos. This was 12 years ago and it seemed so exotic and unobtainable.
Now we’re mixing everything from big movies to tiny podcasts in Atmos, and most streaming services require it as a deliverable. So it’s finally become a part of our everyday mixing process at the studios, and the more I have been exposed to it the more I am amazed at its potential. But as I write, I just have too many toys and noises to pick from; two speakers is plenty for that.
LBB> On a typical day, what does your ‘listening diet’ look like?
Will> Jazz is for breakfast. We have a large vinyl collection at home and a record gets put on as we’re getting the kids ready for school. A few days ago I heard my 7-year-old daughter hum along perfectly to a Wayne Shorter solo, so I feel like I’m doing a good job there.
Then I’m at work, so God knows what I’m listening to. Evening we’ll put another record on while we make dinner. But definitely not jazz or we’ll get yelled at by said 7-year-old who has a hard ban on jazz post 12pm. I have a terrible habit of basing that choice on what we’re eating. Nino Rota or Fred Buscaglioni for pasta, Nick Drake for a Sunday roast, Daft Punk for crepes etc.
LBB> Do you have a collection of music/sounds and what shape does it take (are you a vinyl nerd, do you have hard drives full of random bird sounds, are you a hyper-organised spotify-er…)?
Will> Yeah, vinyl all the way for music. But I got to say that’s relatively recent and kind of came about as a reaction to Alexa. When we first had kids we’d sit down for dinner and have the Alexa in front of us and this limitless possibility of choice. Neither my wife or I could ever think of anything. Hence the shift back to vinyl. Having a curated limited selection seems to be best for us. We limit the onhand selection to about 100 records. Every few months there’s a cull and a batch end up in the garage for the mice.
I had a vinyl collection in London, but never brought it to the US so had to start from scratch out here. But thank goodness for Discogs.
In terms of collecting sounds? That is an ongoing embarrassment of riches that spans hard drives, instruments and toys. We have a large room at the back of Fall On Your Sword which we call The Orphanage. This is where the instruments that I have bought for a particular project and only use once go out to pasture. It resembles the room at the end of Raiders Of The Lost Ark.
LBB> Outside of the music and sound world, what sort of art or topics really excite you and do you ever relate that back to music?
Will> My wife and I build a lot of interactive art installations that are always born from cinema. We’ve made a lot of work about man’s imposition on nature. It’s something we’re both deeply troubled by. But somehow making these pieces that have a Herzogian attitude towards nature’s indifference helps us come to terms with the fact that our children will be experiencing life very differently from us.
But in the end it all comes back to music, and those pieces are driven from a shared love of trashy pop culture cinema. I guess that’s a whole other story right there!
LBB> Let’s talk travel! It’s often cited as one of the most creatively inspiring things you can do - I’d love to know what are the most exciting or inspiring experiences you’ve had when it comes to sound and music on your travels?
Will> I grew up going to Ibiza every summer. My grandparents moved there in the early 70s and that’s just what we did. My granny was a DJ and was constantly trying to get us to go clubbing in the 80s. So my childhood was mostly that travel wise. My 81 year old mum recently apologised for not having taken me to more places when I was younger, but Ibiza was the free option! And I think in the end it was very influential to me. Not just the electronic music, but also the Ibicencan music.
I became good friends with a Spanish family and started visiting Formentera which is the smaller island next-door. I remember some time around the late 80s going to a performance in the countryside. Part Flamenco, part Formentera storytelling which went on for hours. One of those strange mesmerising dreamlike nights you never forget.
Now my mum has that house and I take my kids to the same place every summer. Except not so much of the clubbing part, sadly now everyone is just on their phones.
LBB> As we age, our ears change physically and our tastes evolve too, and life changes mean we don’t get to engage in our passions in the same intensity as in our youth - how has your relationship with sound and music changed over the years?
Will> For me the big change happened when I had kids. It made me want to rediscover a lot of the things I had fallen in love with and impose them upon my children!
Because I’ve always been composing I’ve often been almost deliberately in avoidance of current trends. Certainly throughout my 20s and 30s, I was always doing my own thing and sometimes came a bit late to the party in terms of what the latest thing was. I’m still okay with that, but I do make a bit more of an effort these days to search out something new. As I’ve got older and less obsessive with my own work, it’s made me possibly more curious of what else is out there.
