In The Eye Of The Cosmic Storm: The Jonny Halifax Invocation

The maelstrom of sounds that explode out of London-based six-piece, The Jonny Halifax Invocation, appear to have one very ambitious goal: To elevate your consciousness. It’s a bold objective. And requires a radical approach.

Jonny: “I’ve never had much interest in just doing things well. Or properly. I’m interested in doing things excitingly, which for me means keeping things on the edge of falling apart. It’s like David Bowie said in the film, Moonage Daydream, an artist should always go further and further into the water, until they feel it’s unsafe, like you’re struggling to touch the bottom with your feet. Then you’re ready to do something special.”

Out in the deep waters, Jonny takes inspiration from some iconic figures. You can hear numerous influences in the sonic storms he generates – Hawkwind, Spacemen 3, La Monte Young, Terry Riley, Sun Ra, Can, Philip Glass – but they’re all fragmented or displaced, pushed out of their contextual comfort zone.

In previous band incarnations, The Howling Truth and Honkeyfinger, he leant heavily on a monstrous, blues-rock noise. Albeit with a twist.

As he explains: “Blues is a very primitive form, like punk rock is primitive and inclusive. You can have one chord in blues. And that simplicity invites people in. But I always wanted to subvert it into an avant garde, Beefheart kind of thing.”

With his latest outfit, The Invocation, there are, arguably, more varied components at play. There are softer and more subtle tones, for sure. Jonny brings together opposites. It’s east meets west. It’s humanity meets machinery. It’s esoteric Indian drones meets lap steel slide guitar blues and southern-ranch harmonica. All in search of serenity amid the tension; bliss within chaos.

Jonny: “I was very inspired by a guy called Henry Flynt, who was part of the original Fluxus art movement. He was brought up on bluegrass, hillbilly, fiddle-and-banjo sounds. But he’s an intellectual. He wrote about eastern musicology and practice. So he put the two together. He ended up with very raga pieces on violins with effects pedals. My intention with the latest album was to deconstruct blues music, which was taken from Africa anyway and made popular by the west, then put it with an extended eastern dronal form.”

The new album, appropriately titled Acid Blüüs Räägs Volume 2, is Jonny’s subversive melting pot of blues-rock noodlings and räägs, or ‘ragas’ – modular Indian sound textures that flow and gyrate in small vibrations to create significant emotional changes in the listener. The term ‘ragas’, from Sanskrit, literally translates as ‘something that colours the mind’. It’s a deeply meditative, spiritual kind of sound.

Jonny: “I’ve been learning sitar. It’s not as difficult as people say, to be honest. Although physically holding it and playing it the way you’re supposed to, that’s hard. Sitar is the first instrument I’ve had a lesson for. I got to 50 and thought ‘Well, I’m not going to buy a Lamborghini or anything like that’ so I had a sitar lesson instead. I wanted to get this free jazz feel on the album. That Pharaoh Sanders, Alice Coltrane-era spiritual jazz from the late ‘60s and ‘70s.”

Despite recently splashing out on a bit of formal tuition, Jonny remains a firm fan of the rustic, self-taught approach. You get the feeling he’s perpetually searching for a greater natural connection with the instruments at his disposal.

“Playing by feel, rather than convention, is actually more true to the ritualistic tradition, the heritage of the instrument. Jimi Hendrix played by feel. He was spiritually immersed but making use of the new technology at the same time. He scared the shit out of people like Clapton because Hendrix wasn’t constrained by anything. You can learn all the notations now for anything, any song, but it’s not really playing. You’re just learning to play what someone else played.”

The latest album was released the same day Jonny and his band played a live show at The Underground in Bradford. Interestingly, the live experience bore very little resemblance to the recorded material, which is in keeping with Jonny’s ever-evolving relationship with the sounds he creates.

Jonny: “I forgot about the recorded album a long time ago. The album is like a collage of sounds. Live, it’s completely different. I treat them totally separately. Every night is completely different. Last night we had a violin player with us. I’m always trying to break the form, keep it precariously on the edge, lose control.”

For a guy who creates such an intense, immense whirlwind of noise, Jonny remains the epitome of calm at its centre. He is at the heart of things, the storm’s maverick creator. In the eye is where you find complete tranquility. And at last, transcendence.