Hagop Tchaparian, a British-Armenian producer, has released his debut album “Bolts” today. This new album has 10 songs of hyper-personal rhythm music that combines techno with field recordings from his trips in Armenian and Mediterranean culture.
Hagop’s history paved the way for him to create something important with these recordings. Tchaparian was a member of the post-grunge punk band Symposium in his adolescence. Symposium had a few years of popularity, huge enough to tour the United States on Warped Tour, perform on Reading’s main stage, and open for Red Hot Chili Peppers and Metallica; just long enough to get disillusioned with the music industry and break up debt-ridden.
“As a teenager, I would make the pilgrimage to Slam City skateboard shop – I couldn’t really afford to buy anything other than Thrasher magazine. I would see Atiba’s photos and get super inspired and want to push across the bridge and go skate Southbank. Downstairs was Rough Trade Records where I would be able to find the music from the music section in Thrasher and music I heard in the background of skate videos that I couldn’t really seem to find anywhere else. Atiba was photographing loads of these bands too so it’s absolutely a crazy dream to be able to work with someone who provided so much inspiration throughout my life.”
Following Symposium, Hagop participated in a 2000 compilation called Hokis, which collected music from Armenian musicians — although he was largely lured into London’s club scene, where he became acquainted with Hot Chip and eventually became a tour manager for both Hot Chip and Four Tet.
“After wanting out of guitar bands and with a massive interest in all things dance music, my first job (mainly due to being broke) was flyering outside many of London’s clubs. I would stand outside all of the main clubs starting at around midnight in East London, ending up outside the Ministry Of sound around 9 am. I would hear the sounds from outside and see the people coming out and really wished I was inside! I began to get inside finally and was checking out as much of it as I could and by a huge stroke of luck, ended up helping out people like Hot Chip and Four Tet on tour. I got to travel and observe them and many others at festivals, clubs and shows creating these special unforgettable moments.”
Hagop would compose the occasional remix for pals like Kieran to perform in their DJ sets, but creating original new music wasn’t his top priority. He continued to collect these fragments of crudely recorded sound. There was an emotional connection in continuing to piece these pieces together into a coherent plot for him. The rhythm tracks could power an underground dance floor on their own, but the factors around the rhythms were the undercurrents that helped elevate the music beyond party customs. When he performed some early bits and pieces for Hebden, the experienced musician urged him to keep going and complete a comprehensive body of work.
“I love synthesizers and music gear but there are some sounds that I hear around me as I go about my life that make me sit up and really pay attention. I try to capture as much of them as I can and have used them as the main building blocks of the album. I need music to mean something to me otherwise I’m not as interested. It’s a bit like younger days where I would just gravitate to certain inspiration like oxygen – I just really need it.”
“Bolts” has ten tracks that blend aural evidence of a life’s experience with the idea that lo-fi techno might be the ideal canvas for portraying that experience. Hagop has been collecting these noises and vignettes for over 15 years, beginning before the smartphone in his pocket had a “record” feature. He would extract noises from movies supplied to him by pals, such as the Armenian wedding video, which showed guests jumping over a fire as a drummer playing in the background. He would approach street musicians and ask if he could record their performances, such as the women playing the qanun, an Arabic string instrument resembling a harp, or he would record with professional musicians playing specialised instruments such as the zurna. He documented his own steps on the dirt roads his father formerly traversed, such as the Lebanese village of Anjar, where his father’s family sought safety after being pushed out of the Armenian-Turkish town of Musa Dagh in 1939.
The end result is the sound of a guy following his ancestors throughout the world, scattering hints of his daily life among the altered folk instruments of his ancestors. There are tactile remembrances in between these beats, and the outcome may be explosive at times. “Timelapse,” which includes a loop of the music that plays throughout the fire-jumping wedding rite, sews together what appear to be related photos in a photo album that is physically decaying but retains its force. The beauty and storytelling here transcend evident genre or form: “Bolts” is quite specific, and this is Hagop’s investigation of his Armenian history through a lifetime of distant recordings.
It’s Hagop’s sounds, memories, and experiences that we’re navigating. But they end up as signposts to a shared past. We can and should use them to chart the dancing away of our concerns.
The artwork for “Bolts” was curated by skateboard, music and sports photography legend Atiba Jefferson.