An interview with the prolific Al Kent2

Atricle by Juliet Shaw

“I can’t remember a time when music wasn’t a pleasure. It was something that was always there, like food.” So says Al Kent of his formative years, and it’s a sentiment that has continued throughout his life.

With current projects including a five-CD box-set compilation of rare disco tracks to be released on the BBE label in October, a second Million Dollar Orchestra album with full live orchestra in the planning stages, a remix for funk band The DT6 in collaboration with Tom Moulton soon to hit the shops, his own Million Dollar Disco nights in Glasgow and Manchester, guest DJ appearances across the world, numerous re-edits of rare disco tracks, and a sideline in writing about his heroes, one could argue that music isn’t just like food to Al, it’s more akin to breathing.

For a young boy growing up as Ewan Kelly in 1970s Glasgow (Al Kent came later, his alter ego being named after one of the rare soul records he’d bought as a boy), the mod revival that alerted him to sixties soul having been and gone, a penchant for soul and disco music could have spelled the end of credibility amongst his peers. But rather than alienate him, his growing collection of Motown earned Ewan a seal of approval.  Delving deeper into the black music he’d discovered, the strings and percussion of the disco albums he’d found brought together everything he loved about the sounds he was playing, and his obsession began.

“I didn’t suddenly hear a record and think, oh, I like disco,” he says. “There’s nothing that stands out like that, I probably heard them at the time and thought it was soul. It was only later I realised there was a disco scene, it was just that all the elements of the sounds that came together for me.”

His extensive record collection was quickly honed towards ’60s soul classics, then deeper into northern and seventies soul and disco. Before long, the young Ewan harboured a need to hear his own type of music in a wider environment and at the age of 15 he decided to stage his own night so he could be sure of hearing the music he loved instead of dancing to everyone else’s beat.

“I can’t even remember anything about what led to us staging that night,” he says. “It was just one of those things you did as a kid. At the time we were going to school discos and not hearing the music we wanted to hear. If we were lucky there might have been a bit of soul, then there’d be a punk section, a ska section, everyone getting their own fifteen minutes.”

Despite his unassuming reminiscing, there are few 15 year old boys who, on not hearing the type of music they liked, would stage their own nights. Most would throw themselves into whatever their peers were listening to. But rather than conforming to the masses, Ewan hired the local community centre and a pair of decks and put on what would be the first party of many.

“Had we any sense, we would have hired somewhere really small,” he says. “But there we were, 20 or so of us, in a big community centre with the people who ran it standing around wondering what the hell it was we were listening to.” Despite the decline of mod culture, Ewan managed to find a core group of fellow soul enthusiasts who shared his passion. Travelling to parties around Glasgow soon led to requests for him to bring his extensive record collection to provide the soundtrack.

“By that time I’d met people outside of school and out of my local area, so I had friends who were into the same sort of thing, not kids you would hang about with just because you went to school with them, but people who I’d met because they were into music,” he says. “I’d go to parties and maybe play a few records, and then from that I got a couple of gigs, but it wasn’t a regular thing – more like just turning up to a party and if I had records then I’d go up and play a few.” Pre-internet days, sharing rare tracks was a lot more difficult than simply logging onto DJ History.  But the good will out, and the music heads found each other by staging real-life forums in Glasgow city centre, word of mouth and street style being the indicators of a fellow enthusiast.

“At that time there was still a quite a big mod scene so it all revolved around fashion and music, and we would meet people because they looked cool,” says Ewan. “We’d be in Glasgow going shopping on a Saturday afternoon and would bump into people. There was a big scene of everyone from young kids to older guys who just hung about and we’d all meet each other and talk about music or whatever.” Despite his love of disco and soul, Ewan’s first residency was at the height of the acid house era, in a back-room function suite of the Videoplex Snooker Club.

“It was the late 80s or early 90s and at that time you could put a party on anywhere. I’d just started buying house records and was going to more clubs as well as northern soul things, and started buying some of the records I was hearing. Someone I know knew the guys who were promoting it and were looking for someone who had records, so they suggested me.” Coming from a background of northern soul, the acid house scene presented a welcome opportunity for Ewan to explore an extension of the music he loved.

“It was a very similar scene,” he says. “Northern soul was plainly about the music, obviously there was quite a big drugs scene as well but without the drugs the music would survive. With acid house it was more about the drugs and partying and less about the music, but the snooker place was probably the first time I saw potential for making money from playing music. Not a lot of money, but when you’re unemployed any money’s good, so I started to think more about where I could take it, but I never had a master plan or anything.”

Despite the lack of a master plan, Ewan has managed to dedicate a large proportion of his life to disco music in all its forms: listening to it, writing about it, editing it and creating it. Having a huge collection of original disco and soul when house music exploded onto the British club scene saw Ewan make a natural progression to sampling and editing, and the name Al Kent was plucked from one of his early soul records purely to avoid legal action from an obvious sample he used in one of his early productions. The majority of his work was created without the advent of modern technology which has made it a bedroom hobby to source, edit and record music. Digital software has made it easier for Ewan to make re-edits that may otherwise have proved impossible, yet despite the technology at his fingertips he’s chosen to eschew modernity and go old school with his second full-orchestra recording.

“I’ve never been into gadgets and gear,” he says. “All the stuff I’ve bought over time has been vintage equipment, but obviously I couldn’t have done the majority of the edits I’ve done without technology.”

So, casting aside the bedroom samples, Ewan decided to record with a full orchestra.

“It wasn’t a decision I made, it was just something that snowballed,” he admits. “I started off recording using loops and stuff and then got someone to play keys for me, a bit of bass. Then it kind of got out of control, I kept meeting people; it was a natural process. At some point half way through it I kind of realised what was happening.” The resulting labour of love, “Better Days” by the Million Dollar Orchestra, was hailed as a modern disco classic and drew comparisons with Salsoul and the string-laden recordings of 70s New York that inspired him. “Al Kent has managed to recreate the modern soul meets backstreet disco sound he loves with amazing authenticity,” declared house legend Joey Negro. Despite admitting the two years it took to record the first album were the most difficult of his life, he’s about to start it all again.

“It was enjoyable and stressful but the enjoyment overshadowed the stress,” he says. “It did feel all-consuming at times, and there were months on end where I didn’t do anything else, but I’m very happy with it.”

Surprisingly, Ewan has no formal music education and can’t read or write music. His perfectionism combined with his lack of written music knowledge makes for a haphazard way of recording, but that’s what makes his music stand out from the formulaic play-it-by-numbers that pervades much of the modern music scene.

“We really have no idea what’s going to happen until we get everyone in the room,” he says. “Last time, there was no structure about it: we started with a group of people I’d met and we ended up being friends, but I really had no idea what would happen until we started playing together. I can’t write music the way a traditional songwriter would write music, but I can certainly put stuff together from ideas I have, get someone else involved to play something and it evolves from there.” When he’s not playing, editing, conducting orchestras and writing about music, Ewan somehow finds the time to fund his vinyl habit as a freelance graphic designer. “I don’t think I could do the music if I didn’t,” he says. With the knowledge amassed from many years of collecting records  and the many edits he’s created, has there never been a temptation to pull together a formulaic chart-friendly track to pull in the pounds?

“I don’t think I’d be capable of making a pop record to be honest,” he says. “Making a pop record is a hard thing to do, unless that’s what you’re into. Everyone I know makes music from the heart. I really don’t think I could make a record that I couldn’t put my name to.” With a lifetime of edits, compilations, orchestral recordings and a website that reads like a disco A-Z, what comes first?

“DJing,” responds Ewan immediately.  “I enjoy everything I do, but a good DJ gig is better than anything, and not just because it means I can keep collecting records. Although I’d like to think the best is yet to come.”