Max Tundra is the pseudonym of tiny Londoner Ben Jacobs. Using archaic computer programming to make his manic, hyperactive, incredibly complex arrangements, Jacobs' output is slow and labored. After releasing Some Best Friend You Turned Out to Be in 2000 and Mastered By Guy at the Exchange in 2002, it took Jacobs six years to complete 2008's Parallax Error Beheads You.

Interview: 22 October 2008

So, why six years?
“Well, I get very distracted from my work: someone will phone me up and say there’s a strange looking puddle in the street, d’you want to come and look at it?’ and then I’ll go do that for four hours.


The music's also very labor-intensive to record, there’s loads of dense programming. And I only ever record one song at a time; it just feels like I’m cheating on one song if I’m working on another. It'd take me six months to work on one song, then four months to do the next one.”

Did you ever feel like you'd never complete it?
“Certainly. As recently as a year ago, I was thinking: this is going to take me the rest of my days. But I did it. And the feeling of elation when I did it was so strong. Any time I’d gone to family engagements or out with friends, it was always: ‘How’s the album going?’ Finally I was able to say: ‘well, it’s finished.’ And after having that question asked of you for six years, that felt amazing.”

Did Domino ever question your progress?
“It’s nice being on a label like Domino because they seem to have about 200 acts on their roster. From their point of view, it’s not the end of the world if the Max Tundra record isn’t ready. I think they also realized an album that takes a very long time to record has its own selling points, because it’s quite unusual someone would take that long.

For me, I knew the shape of the record —the running order, what key the songs would be in— from the start. And I worked track by track, in order.”

Spending half-a-decade bringing something you've already planned into fruition sounds kind of painful.
“I don’t make things easy for myself. Sometimes it feels like a real chore to sit down and switch all the machines on, and spend an evening working on drum-patterns whilst everyone’s out at karaoke. I’ve learnt a lot about discipline, hard-work, and deadlines. I guess it’s character-building.”

Why make albums that way?
“That’s just the way I am. With my songwriting and recording, I’m not an improviser at all. Whatever may sound random is completely planned. Every single chord, every single note, every single drum noise is exactly where I want it to be. I’m very meticulous.”

Are these things indicative of your personality?
“[Laughs] Maybe speak to my exes about that. I am a bit anal. Certainly very thorough about stuff. I live quite a tidy life: I don’t drink, I don’t take drugs, if I'm playing a show I get an early night beforehand. I just want to always be able to present my music in the way it’s supposed to be. At the other end of the spectrum you have someone like Amy Winehouse who, with the encouragement of the world, has let temptations get the better of her to the point where it’s clearly to the detriment of her performances.”

But for so many people, the cliché of the drugged-out rockstar is eternal.
“I find it quite sad that people fall into that lifestyle. There’s so many people with drug problems in music, wasting their money, wasting their lives. It’s fairly boring. When I’m out playing shows, encountering a roomful of coked-up music execs, and everyone’s really pissed, you get the feeling you’re the only one who knows what they’re doing. It’s really, really hideous. It’s one of the most horrible things about music. I don’t want to paint a picture of myself as a really boring guy. I can still have late nights with the best of them. It’s just drinking tap-water whilst dancing ’til 5am, rather than dropping ecstasy.”

Is this album a lyrical study in mortality?
“It’s funny you should say that. While recording it, I often thought: ‘I might die before I finish this.’ Three or four years in, it felt like it could take me another 20 years. So, I’d back stuff up on CDs, and hide them around the house. So, if one room is completely ransacked by burglars, then the album’s music will still be hidden in the front room. I’d occasionally say to friends: ‘by the way, if I die, the finished songs are in the bottom left-hand drawer, in the back.’ I guess it’s a bit morbid.”

Were you worried you’d die and then, in an Elliott Smith style, countless sketchy recordings would come out year after year?
“Being who I am, I was just worried they'd come out in the wrong order. That was one of the motivational things to getting it done: the only way you’ll know that the songs and the words and the artwork are done the exact way you want it is to finish it before you die. These thoughts were because of the length of time that passed. There were a lot of lyrics related to mortality, because that’s what I was thinking about whilst I was making it.”

Obviously this is your most lyrically-driven record. Was that your intent?
“Not really. But it is, isn’t it? I know it’s certainly better lyrically than the one before. One of the things that takes ages is coming up with words, because it’s not something I feel I’m particularly gifted at. But, at the same time, we’re continually bombarded when we’re on hold, waiting for someone to service our mobile phone, with extremely bland, chart-based fake-indie, or just really, really hideous stadium melancholy rock with the most appallingly clichéd rhyming couplets and moronic repetitions that you could possibly imagine. Whenever I was thinking ‘I’m not sure if that lyric quite works,’ a Coldplay song might come on the radio, and I’d think: 'actually, my stuff is fine.'”

So you spent a lot of time working on the words?
“Just to make sure that they weren’t utter rubbish.”

With this album finally coming out, do you feel like you’re starting anew?
“Yeah, it’s been such a long time since Mastered By Guy at the Exchange that it does feel like this is the first one. Right now, I’m wondering what it would be like if I did the next record very quickly, but I haven’t actually got any ideas at the moment, so that might not happen. It might be another 20 years.”