In Conversation with Simon Mercer.

 In conversation with Simon Mercer: 

Simon Mercer is a dedicated artist and creator. Approaching nearly 2 decades within the industry, his work has seen a varied shift in themes and ideas throughout this time. From playing with Hounds of Hate to creating documentaries about American farmers experimenting in theatrics, he has certainly covered a wide berth of experiences that have undoubtedly led to a developed creative process that continues to explore the unconventional. I had a fantastic opportunity to talk to Simon regarding his process and story, covering the great successes of the 2010’s scene in Dalston as well as some of his more niche works. He provides a refreshingly honest perspective on concepts and ideas that depose the obnoxious precedent set by the powers that be.

I spoke to Simon as he strolled around London, his home-base, initially asking how he had been, and more on topic, what projects or upcoming releases he has been a part of or that he is just generally excited about.

His response, ‘I’m mostly working on my own projects for the new year, but I’m always up for whatever, making videos with friends, but yeah mostly playing by myself!’

We can expect more documentaries, something Simon shows extreme passion for, along with the compilation of older works in an almost ‘semi-autobiographical’ sense. Life for Simon in London over the past few years has seen plenty of experimentation within the film word, gallery screenings and much more. Including work with James Massiah on his own ‘poetry nights’. Which by Simons own admission, wouldn’t have been something he expected to get into, Considering his upbringing in the rural Canadian village of Dundas just outside of Toronto. Yet the themes James explores, along with just general ‘interesting conversation’ has clearly left an impression that calls for Simon’s creativity.

Part of the reason I decided to contact Simon for a chat, was because of his recent work on Instagram archiving old performances and galleries amongst others, that if not for him, would yet to have seen the light of day. Wanting to expand on this, I asked how he looks back on this period of his life now, all these years later.

He spoke of good times growing up, an underground scene was emerging around Toronto, illegal shows and anarchist punk defined this part of his life. Moving to London was meant to be a continuation of this, but with no real strategic plan and definitely not thinking of a career in the arts, he was initially disheartened by a lack of familiarity to what he had experienced in Toronto, he discovered bands ‘obsessed with image’ with an almost ‘strategic and cynical approach’ to creating that just wasn’t authentic. Eventually as we went on to discuss, he would find his calling.

Despite a shaky start, Simon saw ‘Good times in London’, talking specifically about lots of young heads of magazines highly influenced by the works of Vice, going out to shows and working a regular job within the NHS. ‘Simple beginnings.’

I wanted to probe more on his reasons for referencing and archiving these shows or performances as far back as 16 years later in some cases.

This came from his youth, studying film and being a general ‘music nerd’ (sorry Simon, your words!) he discovered the difficulties in researching the unknown, little information was around despite the existence of the internet, and this is where he learned the importance of the art that is archiving. So, moving forward into his current archiving works, he states that he’s essential ‘came far enough’ that old projects of his & associates are floating around anonymously and unnamed, if it isn’t recorded, it will be lost. This is something I can sympathise with greatly on my journey to discover the inner works of the wider London scene of the time, so much has been lost despite being on the internet that people like Simon who were so engrained in the scene are necessary to tell us what actually happened.

Sticking to one format, one median, is an artistic crutch. The ability to try different things, despite personal belief is an inherent quality of Simon, and something clearly present throughout his vast portfolio. Wanting to touch on this more, I asked about how his focus has changed from both In-front of the spotlight and his work behind the scenes, specifically on his preferred median of expression.

Simon states his love for working on multiple projects is great! But he’s had to come to terms that videography is his best format, citing specifically the ability to control every aspect of it being an important part of his process. He will always return to design and music, or abstract art as whatever comes to mind will be explored, but as a guy who knows the cool musicians, Simon says he is ‘Kinda Shit’. Stating that his ‘genius friends made him come to terms with his skills’, specifically he recalled, Liam Toon from Bar Italia drumming In-front of him, it made Simon ‘feel like a child’.

Speaking of musical outlets, formalised in 2009 Hounds of Hate is the brainchild of Stan Iordanov, the trio, one of which being Simon, would play countless shows around London and eventually overseas with a tour of the US, I wanted to establish the origins of the project and see how humble beginnings kickstarted a lifelong career.

‘It was almost like out of a sitcom’ Simon recalled. The first apartment he had moved into, shared with a friend off of Kingsland Road in Dalston was also home to Stan, ‘there was a nice, shared rooftop’ which is where the two met. Simon couldn’t recall where he met Santi Reiser, the third member of Hounds of Hate, but he was already involved in the scene, and they likely met at an early club night at Femi’s.

Early interviews with the Hounds of Hate crew cite boredom as the main reason for the band’s formation. Simon lays out the reality, ‘Stan was already making music’, an engineer by trade, ‘He has a brilliant mind, very meticulous’ ‘An Ableton Wizz!’. Its clear Simon sees the conceptualisation and success of HOH as a result of Stan's genius. Because the three hung around frequently in the same circles, the formalisation occurred very naturally, ‘it was an excuse to get out and jam’. The shows Hounds would play at were ‘essentially just parties’, ‘so it all felt local’.

As for the name, it came from Stan’s recent Kate Bush phase, Simon’s mother-in-law hated the name, and ‘thought it was weak’, but what does she know!

Moving away from the creation of this project, I wanted to gain some clarification on blog & interview posts from the period regarding HOH. Specifically, the same description of sound that had been associated to Hounds in several interviews, verbatim. In a scape where the genrefication of music creates a crutch that forces conformity to label standards, this really confused me, where did this description come from? And why was it ever used?

‘Deep and easy-going elements of house and electro styles with a hint of p-funk, mixed with a subtle, lush vibe and optimistic mood. ‘

‘Yeah, these are probably Stan’s words’, it was given in a sardonic manner one time, and the outlets ran with it! Simon is against the use of genre in defining music, believing that a project can just be in its own sphere without having to define itself for others. He told a story about his first roommate, a music journalist for NME who ‘hated music’. ‘He just listened and went along with it’, ‘his favourite part of the job, was making up funny names of genres’, this is where Simon came to realise, ‘music journalism was a bullshit art’. Specifically, he remembered, Dan Caribou’s debut works were labelled ‘folk-Tronica’ by several outlets, meaning it became universal. There was a general sense of hatred for this within the group who just wanted ‘to end the corniness’.

The general loathing of this ‘bullshit art’ was not just felt by Simon, but rather is indicative of the whole scene, a creative block that pushes false narratives against the best wishes of the artists, is counterproductive, and only good for clicks & views.

Moving away from theory and genre, I wanted to better establish the full picture of what was going on in Dalston at the time. The scene was highly productive with many vast successful careers launched as a result, one of these great successes was that of Hype Williams, a trio at the time Simon first met them, I wanted to know how far they had progresses past their initial concept.

‘They had already been a few bands before Hype Williams’. Paradise sisters, American spirit, to name a few. The band had rotated members with people such as Jeffrey Joyle and Pete Donaldson taking part before Corey Reid. Just like Hounds, ‘they were not after putting out an album’. ‘Just putting on parties & shows.’ I think this is very common among those who explored art or music for the joy of creating, and not as aforementioned to just be a band with fans and a following. 

Something I really wanted to touch on was the closeness of the scene, how their connections created a tight-knit group of creators who would all contribute to each other’s works simply for the joy of collaborating. This is a piece of continuity, in an increasingly isolating world where the ability to create can be done in total singularity, these people are still creating together now, and the grounds upon which this successful interconnected relationship was built, started here.

Hounds & Hype 5 hour long set at Corsica Studios
3/12/2009

‘Dean was in Dalston, chilling & partying there’. ‘Stan & Dean were confident in just bringing people together, anyone who was around and up for playing’. Everyone was close, but like any relationships, ‘there was ups & downs, but everyone was ‘always happy to help each other’. Simon laid down some early examples, such as his first documentary, ‘King Dong’ which featured a soundtrack from caribou guitarist Ryan Smith, or his other project ‘empty drive’ which featured music from Dean Blunt. ‘The scene is kind of ridiculous’ in the sense that so many successes came as a result of these early collaborations. Boiler room, NTS, World music, just to name a few.

'King Dong' snapshot.

A focus point of my research and my first Zine release, The Ceylan projects, was also something Simon was involved in, I would be kicking myself if I didn’t bring it up! We discussed the idea of a ‘transient space project’ and how it started.

‘I was around at the time’, it was essentially ‘a voyeur between the scene and art’. ‘Aliina always had a foot in the gallery world’ so it was seen as a natural development by those involved, the events themselves were ‘pretty much the same type of thing as a regular party night, it was all a part of the process’.

Inquiring more specifically, I wanted to know why Ceylan enticed so many creative minds, like Simons. A breath of fresh air in an ever-increasing world of highly conceptualized rubbish.

‘It was the thin line between all these amazing people and being on the same page’ Again upon Simon’s arrival to London, He ‘couldn’t find anything, but then, here these guys were’ in a creative space being authentic to themselves, with no ulterior motive.

Ceylan in residency at Chapter One. 

One major outcome of the Ceylan projects was the musical ensemble The Bo Khat Eternal Troof Family Band, who would accompany the physical median at exhibitions with this evolving noise project, often times melodically illegible but forever present. I wanted to establish whether the creation of Bo khat as a product of Ceylan was purposeful, and how its formation occurred and membership changed.

Bo Khat Eternal Troof Family Band.

‘Bo Khat was a project from Dean, that he brought people into’ Simon played twice in Bo khat, including at the carnival’s infinity sessions. ‘people were popping in and out, and just playing along’ (throughout the weeklong residency). The name is a product of the time, ‘Khat was popular’ and ‘the scene may have single-handedly caused the ban’. ‘Once someone found a place to buy it… everyone was doing it’ ‘It was brought to parties by the bundle, just for a buzz!’

In 2018, and later 2020, Bo Khat Eternal Troof Family Band suddenly reappeared in the public forum with the release of two EP’s, the question is, in what capacity was this an actual reunion?

‘Yeah this is fully Dean, its new stuff’ And as far as Simon’s aware, not a reunion in the traditional sense, but a return to a concept, ‘there is complex layers of reason (for coming back under the same name) none of us like contracts or rules’, ‘an alias is power’, I can certainly agree with Simon here, the ability to create unencumbered by previous ideas and others input, is certainly useful, and something utilized frequently by Dean. Regarding a Bo Khat reunion, Simon simply stated that ‘there’s certainly a few irreparable relationships’ that puts an original Bo Khat reunion lineup seemingly out of the question for the foreseeable.

Speaking briefly on the processes of then to now, Simon says it feels as if ‘no one went dramatically in any other direction, art is naturally progressing, it wasn’t a money making adventure, so we weren’t bound by a high production value, music came out of the constraint of budget’.

Linking back to our previous conversation regarding archiving. The HOH crew have previously spoke on certain aspects of the Bo khat & Co process, including supposed hours of unreleased tracks, and using their place as a recording studio. This is something I was really intrigued about. Where could they be now?

Eventually Simon ‘Moved in with Stan, and we (HOH, BKETFB, HW ETC…) practiced there’. ‘Stan had all the synths and gear’. Because London has never been affordable, most of the scene worked regular jobs, whether it be looking after Cornish goats (Santi), as a civil-engineer (Stan) or in Simon’s case, the NHS, but with big boy jobs, comes spending money! ‘It was a converted loft, when it was still reasonably possible for you to do that in London’, ‘We held it down for 5 years actually, various people spent time there and the place changed hands a couple of times’. Regarding the recordings, ‘Stuff is out there!’ ‘There's footage of that place on YouTube’, the video in question, ‘A snoop Dogg Sensual seduction cover’. That Is actually quite the tune.

Sensual Seduction.

Moving back towards the Ceylan projects, we discussed how something like this was actually able to be conceptualized, Just like much of everything else In this space, it was via fundraisers & parties.

The shows were true to their concept, often a ‘reflection of what everyone’s obsessions were of the time’.

‘No one had money, ever’. ‘Sometimes you would get chucked 50-100 quid for galleries or putting on events’ ‘Cash would change hands and it would be your in’. Simon mentioned a ‘party house’ on Dalston Lane where a ‘guy with a big house, would let people put on these shows out the front, for no cost’. It goes to show that despite any economical adversities, those who want to create and put something out, find a way! Or a guy with a big house… ‘We did a fundraiser at Whitechapel’, this would help fund a proposed tour in the US, where Hype Williams ended up not being able to go, with Jeff (who used to play with Hype Williams) of New Yoga playing along instead. Its important to note that the scene was, In Simon’s words ‘self-contained- very few normie clubs were getting involved’.

 As for the exhibits themselves, ‘If you went back there, it was just like 8 people looking around’, for Ceylan a successful event meant ‘ingratiating people into the gallery world, Dean & Aliina would have people come and experiment at shows, bringing together people as an expansive network was successful’. And it happened! ‘a friend was convinced to go back and open a gallery in Copenhagen’.

'Magic & Happiness' discussions at Prout Road.

Ceylan as a concept wasn’t long lasting, ‘Everyone was going off their own ways, at the time we were just creating, there’s no big umbrella grand strategy, we’re simply building our world.’ ‘There is a reason why these connections brought us together’. Connections within a scene are very important and, in this case, so many remain in place.

 This connection felt through artistic collaboration is vital to so many artists universally. ‘I came across interesting friends, were all like-minded. Connections when true last, it’s a bit of a British sensibility, not taking it all to seriously, but its very inspiring seeing people get shit done. My video stuff has created good links that continue this sort of theme’.

As aforementioned, Hounds of Hate was able to get away to do some sight seeing and show playing in the US. Deciding to do a tour like this is a big deal on a little budget, I wanted to establish how this came about and why.

Hounds on Tour, Baltimore/Providence.

‘We realised through Jeff that this was possible, and he was willing to help.’ ‘It was cool to tap into this informal network’ A couple phone calls would go between various spaces at universities, and as soon as you know it ‘venues were ready with a place to crash’. ‘One night our entire profit from that nights show went into a motel room’. ‘But that was okay, because for us, just neutralising the cost was a positive of the whole experience’. There were some negatives however, ‘We did a warehouse party in NYC with Caribou, just putting feelers out, we ended up doing 5 shows in total there’. ‘the Brooklyn, vegan, pretentious hipsters were not happy, their blogs read: Playing 5 shows in NYC, who are you?’.

Another problem with touring is your commitments on the home front. Which, ‘was the reason for the Turkish names used on tour’ ‘We decided we shouldn’t link our names to a band scheduling overseas work’. ‘We wanted to keep the worlds separate’. Sadly, the ‘Eren’ Guise wasn’t a good-enough disguise for Simon’s work, as when he later took some time off for a documentary, he ended up with the title ‘Mr Hollywood’ around the office. ‘I wasn’t trying to be mysterious, I just wanted to keep the spaces separate’, who doesn’t support a bit of work/life balance?

Hounds of Hate did an Irish exit from the scene around 2012, I needed to ascertain the reason for this quiet withdrawal, whilst also establishing whether the gang is still in contact.‘ I felt like we could have kept going, family and friends wanted us to go on, but Stan had moved on to other projects’ It certainly didn’t help that ‘Santi hated touring, and playing the same music every night!’. ‘I saw Stan recently, Santi is off doing his own thing, but we remain in contact with lots of mutuals’. It sounds like a reunion isn’t totally off the table!

I wanted to know after all this, what was Simon’s biggest takeaway from this journey, and how it influences his modern expression. Simon put it simply, ‘The general confidence to create shit and empowering yourself, it’s all about the ideas, obsessing over the little things like aspect ratio or having 50 different synths is a crutch, whatever you have you can work with’. ‘Its not until you create that you feel like an individual, it’s a visual look into my brain’, creation and the creator are in essence, the same. ‘You cant escape yourself, I was talking to Ryan from Caribou, and he was saying the same, how weird it is that his personality is interconnected to his sound’.

Blogs in London in 2010 were a dime a dozen, whilst some where focussed on image and identity, Sweet & Sound locked onto a set of creative values that supported independent artists who were putting out authentic work, the same year that S&S interviewed HOH their about section laid it simply.

We want to reflect our view that art should not be judged on the quantities sold or by celebrity, but by the quality of the work. We intend to encourage discussion, collaboration and provide inspiration.’ 

‘This was the case for a lot of gallery shows, a young person excited to bring something fresh or honest, put down in order to give social credibility to the gallery over something less popular’. ‘exhibitions aren’t meant to be a museum for the popular, but an evolutionary showcase, it’s a gradual process, the appreciation of the next generations work in the scene is slowly integrated, we were once babies in the space but over time you get put in the same sphere of those that came before you’.

The final question I had for Simon was about this DIY ethic common amongst the scene, why wasn’t there a need for a label to control their output?

‘I had one friend who desperately wanted to get signed by a label, even way back then this was a dying ideal, its naïve to think that would make you big’. ‘Keeping it self-contained was preferred, a random single here and there is different, but we simply just didn’t feel the need’. ‘The creative spirit never goes away if your in the right headspace, we were more focussed on live shows over putting out releases anyway’. Talking with Simon about this DIY sensibility drew comparison to how these ideals have created such a varied network of independent groups or labels throughout time, such as the Dischord label out of Washington D.C whose whole ideals were also based on propelling the individual artist at a larger level, proving something that would normally require heavy contracts and percentages, doesn’t need to be so trivialized.

Overall, talking with Simon provided some much-needed clarity on the timeline of events I was researching, but on another level, it helped me appreciate a different aspect of the creative process that I don’t normally have the ability to explore, namely that of collaboration, such an intrinsic part of Simons career is not something all artists have utilized to such an extent. The ability to get together with a like-minded group and contribute your individual experiences to a wider goal, is truly authentic and brings unfounded results, as shown throughout his career. Thank you to Simon for taking the time to talk to me, and hopefully much more is to come.