Rushes

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Disc 1

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About

From Wikipedia:

Rushes is a 1998 ambient techno album by The Fireman, a duo consisting of Paul McCartney and producer Youth.

Recording

One line of lyrics included in the song “Palo Verde” was taken from an unreleased track of McCartney’s, titled “Let Me Love You Always“. Similarly, bits from another unreleased song, “Hey Now (What Are You Looking at Me For?)“, was used in “Bison“, “Auraveda” and “7 a.m.“. Both unreleased tracks were recorded at some point during 1995, at McCartney’s The Mill studio. In an edition of Club Sandwich magazine, two more songs were mentioned: “Plum Jam” and “Through the Marshes“. All of the tracks featured on the album were recorded early 1998.

Release and reception

Better received than predecessor Strawberries Oceans Ships Forest, Rushes is distinguished by not relying so much on McCartney’s previous recordings.

Rushes was released in the UK on Hydra on 21 September 1998, while in the US it was released on Capitol on 20 October 1998. The album was also released on double vinyl. Two 12″ singles were released from the album, both mixes of “Fluid“. The first 12”, released on the same day as and with the same name as the album, contains the tracks “Fluid“, “Appletree Cinnabar Amber“, and an extended version of an album track titled “Bison (Long One)“. The second 12” was released in 1999, as a limited edition of 3000, titled Fluid (Nitin Sawhney Remixes), and features three remixes of “Fluid” (“Fluid (Out of Body and Mind Mix)“, “Fluid (Out of Body Mix)” and “Fluid (Out of Body with Sitar Mix)“) and the album version of “Bison“. Like the duo’s first album, Rushes was a no-show on the charts and is also no longer in print.

The Fireman brings bison for trancing in the streets.
The Fireman gives a watercolour rush, fluid.
The Fireman understands darsh walls and emerdeen sky. Do you?
The Fireman know’s a lemon’s peal.
And the power of the equinox
The Fireman heard a girl’s snatch-talk of a saucer, flying.
The Fireman likes the sound of mud.
The Fireman plays it all; Bass. Watercolour Guitar. Keyboards. Cymbals.
And the fool.
The Fireman looped a shadow’s clipclop. And made auraveda.
The Fireman taped the talk of sex.
The Moon is right. So the Fireman comes.
The Moon is right. So The Fireman comes.

Rudely. 7am
With Rushes.

From the press release

From Club Sandwich N°85, Spring 1988:

Rumours have reached the Newsroom that new sounds have been heard emanating from Paul’s studio. To investigate further we despatched Geoff Baker on a mission to explain. The jury is still out on whether he accomplished his mission.

A mobile phone rings in the back of beyond.

Editor: “So, Baker, what gives?”

Baker: “Err, I’m down at the studio.”

Editor: “I know that, what’s going on down there?”

Baker: “He’s working on a new album.”

Editor: “Would you care to be more specific?”

Baker: “Ah… he’s mixing an album.”

Editor: “Well! Aren’t you the deep throat today? Do you think you may be able to squeeze a fact into this conversation? Would it be asking too much for you to tell us what it is?

Baker: “Err… that’s the problem. I really can’t say.”

(I would have loved to have told him, honest I would. Trouble is, though, having talked to Paul about it, he doesn’t want to talk about it. Macca’s in deep cover on this one, he’s going underground, which makes it a tad difficult to file a report. I could tell him, the Ed, what I’m hearing down here; what I’m hearing is more trance than dance music. Though you could dance to it. I could. Or you could trance to it. Easily. Give me a late night, a glass of wine… it’s pipe music. That’s it, I’ll tell him…)

Baker: “Hello, Ed?”

Editor: “What’ve you got? Got the scoop? What’s he doing?”

Baker: “Um, it’s a little difficult to explain. Uh, do you think it would be OK just to say he’s making pipe music for trancing in the streets?”

Editor: “Do what? How do you think our readers going to understand that? Have you stopped liking your job? Have you found an alternative method to feeding your wife and kids? What does the album sound like?”

Baker: “Well, aahhh, it sounds like… it sounds… err. You know like when you’re floating and – ”

Editor: “Did you say floating? What on earth do you mean, floating! Do you mean like on a boat?”

(You see my problem? For some people the Sixties just never happened. What I meant was, it’s music that floats your mind, lets it sail and bob, lets you wander and wonder. It’s wanderful.)

Editor: “Are you still there? Hello? You’ll be floating in a minute – face down in a river! Look, just-tell-me-in-simple-English-what-it-is-he’s-doing. Is that too difficult? Is it a rock and roll album? Pop? Can you dance to it? Is it AOR or MOR? Give me a clue!”

Baker: Well, it’d be great driving music, y’know; late night, on the freeway, yeah, whack it on the cassette and float away. Yeah, it’ll be great for driving and – ”

Editor: “Are you telling me that Paul McCartney has recorded new music aimed at people who want to drive their cars – or their boats – while in a trance? Because that’s all you appear to have told me so far, you blithering idiot! Do these tracks have titles?”

Baker: “Umm, yeah. Well… one’s called ‘Bison’. And there’s ‘Plum Jam’ and ‘Fluid’. And ‘Through The Marshes’.”

Editor: “And what do they sound like?”

(What’s the point? How do you explain to a guy who has never heard a lemon peal that Plum Jam sounds like double cream? How can I tell this to those who have never known what Timothy Leary called ‘the breen curtains, the darsh walls and an emerdeen sky’?)

Editor: “Hello-o, Earth calling Planet Baker. Are you still there? Who’s he making this with?”

Baker: “Ah, well there lies another slight problem.”

Editor: “Which is?”

(Which is that I can’t say. I could but I can’t. Shan’t. I could have told him that when I got down here Macca was overdubbing all sorts – bass, guitar, keyboards, cymbals, all very Flaming Pie in that ‘who plays what?’ sense. Just him and Linda and a mate laying down a groove and Pepper-/z’fee taping of anything that comes to mind; looping the sounds oj horses clip-clopping through mud, taping a snatch of some film girl’s memory of a UFO, tapping and taping into a chat with one of those ‘Live 1-2-1’ sex lines. There’s all sorts here, really. And licorice.)

Editor: “Oh come on, for crying out loud – give me something good on this. Is it controversial? Groundbreaking? Please, give me a line on it.”

Baker: “I think there’s some sex in it.”

Editor: “Did you say sex? Sex is good. What sort of sex? How? Who?”

Baker: “Can’t say, sorry. And there’s mud too”.

Editor: “Mud?”

Baker: “Yeah, he’s taping mud”

Editor: “What, like ‘ Tiger Feet’? ‘Lonely This Christmas’?”

Baker: “No, not Mud. Mud.”

Editor: “That’s what I said. Mud. Sex and Mud, eh? Sex and Mud is good. I’ve got it, he’s taping Mud having sex, right?”

Baker: “No, no! When I say mud I don’t mean Mud the group. I mean mud as in what you walk in, what wellies are for.”

Editor: “Let me get this straight – he’s recording the sound of mud?”

Baker: “Yes.”

Editor: “And mud has a sound?”

Baker: “Yeah.”

Editor: “OK, so what’ve we got from this alleged story of yours? That Paul is recording something, possibly with persons unknown, which will be great for driving or for trance classes and it may involve in some way some sex secret and the sound of wet soft earth? Great. Hold the front page. I don’t suppose you have any idea when the release date for this mystery album will be announced?”

Baker: “It won’t.”

Editor: “It won’t what?”

Baker: “It won’t, sir!’

Editor: “Don’t get cute.”

Baker: “The release won’t be announced. It’ll just happen, low-key. It’ll just be out there.”

(Actually, between us, I did hear talk of an equinox release, but…)

Editor: “But when? When?”

Baker: “Err, when the Moon is right. Look, I can’t say; my hands are tied. But they’ll know.”

Editor: “Who’s they?”

Baker: “They who are not you.”

Editor: “Oh forget it! Just write about what you did on your holidays…”

Last updated on February 10, 2023