About Us

Q&A with Zebedee Budworth

Who are The Silver Reserve?

The Silver Reserve are a collective of musicians based around the song writing of Matthew ‘Stoogie’ Sturgess, featuring Xander Edwards, Benjamin Wall, Sam Foster, Jack Chandler and myself.

How did the band start?

Matthew and myself had met at a gathering at a mutual friend’s sometime in 08/09 – I’d been crashing there fairly regularly as the guest of the lodger (ha!), and Matthew had turned up with two large carrier bags full of CDs and proceeded to show us his latest finds. I definitely recall Man Man’s ‘Rabbit Habits’ getting a spin, along with [probably] whatever Sun Kil Moon album was out at the time; though the listening feast went on into the early hours after a whole bunch of beers and cigarettes later I’m sure we all located guitars/percussion and had a little jam. A few weeks/months after this I was invited out to a coalshed behind a friend’s house somewhere in Hull as Stoogie had written some songs and our friend Rory (who I was in a band with) had finally convinced him to record some. I hopped on my motorbike in the dead of night and made my way out the coal shed (this must’ve been sometime in Autumn/Winter as it was incredibly cold), and we spent the night in what might possibly be the smallest makeshift studio to have ever existed. The coal shed was separated into two ‘rooms’, one loaded with one of those incredibly fiddly digital 16 track recorders, complete with EZ (ha!) routing, and a whole bunch of headaches through a 1X5cm digital display; and the other room with just enough room to squeeze a double bass in. We stayed there until the early hours of daybreak, slowly layering up the tracks one by one (on account of there only being enough room for one musician at a time), with me pattering quietly away on a snare drum and various bits of percussion as Stoogie pained over his lyrics. It was fantastic fun, though I did end up making a racket with cymbals at a very ungodly hour (sorry Beresford Av!). I’m sure we had a couple more sessions in the coal shed, which formed the basis of the newly christened Rusty Bear album ‘Source to Sea’ (the title track was one such song).

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Following on from this recording, Sturgess found out about a church down Holderness Road that we could have access to after 4pm every evening for a week. Judging by our listening habits in car journeys around that time (Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti’s ‘Before Today’ and Deerhunter’s ‘Halcyon Digest’ spring to mind), I’m going to say that this was early in 2010. We’d ditched the digital 16 track in favour of Logic Pro and an Alesis 4-track interface, and we had a free reign ‘til the early hours each night. We made use of the various rooms, borrowing bits of recording gear from friends (though the church had a recording studio, we wanted to capture the natural reverb of the place!). It was all going great, and we really ran with the freedom granted to us with the upgraded DAW (that’s Digital Audio Workstation, folks!), putting down any/every instrument we could in all of the different rooms of the building. Then, disaster struck.

After one day of recording I was in the middle of burning the customary CD-R of that day’s work when my Mac swallowed the blank CD-R and refused to let go, constantly trying to regurgitate the disc with the ‘HNNGGGGG-RRRRR, HNNGGGGG-RRRRR’ of a cat constantly (and unsuccessfully) coughing up a digital furball. At this point we were kinda screwed, so I called up my main man Xander, who was in the middle of a music technology at LCM (Leeds College of Music).

Luckily, as Stoogie is a teacher we only get to record in the holidays, so handily Xander was about (and up for) coming over with his non-CD-R-constipated Mac, so we could continue the recording session. It just so happens that Xander (like myself) tends to be able to play whatever instruments are kicking about, and has a knack for Beach Boys-esque backing vocal lines, so he was a super-duper welcome to the then two piece. We kicked about the church and went a bit mad for a week, and even roped in our friend Paddy to drop some double bass down.

I’m gonna fast forward a while here, because after the church there was mainly a lot of mixing and recording vocals, which I wasn’t involved too much with.

(Though I will briefly mention that there was a scrapped recording session that was done in a ‘real’ studio, and a fifteen minute love song, and an additional scrapped ‘super-group’ recording session – there were some fantastic moments in all of these which I’m sure would sound great on the reissue someday HA)

‘Source to Sea’ by Rusty Bear was eventually released through Mollusc Records sometime in some year – I recall that we’d had some play on BBC6 just as I’d started my very own Music Technology degree at LCM (London College of Music) which was pretty cool y’know, and we decided to start work on album number two. I was living in the leafy(BORING) suburb of Ealing, and so Stoogie and Xander came over and we recorded two new songs, roping in the (considerable) skills of Andy Wilder on the drums. The songs had turned out pretty well, though we were fairly desperate to create more of a space to record in, so for the next session Andy, Stoogie and I went to my parent’s barn in the middle of nowhere (AKA Arnold Carr) to crack out a few more songs and get the album really moving along. Me being me I’d brought my Max along, and a little four input interface, and about three Audio Technica mics that I’d won in a competition to record the best Christmas song (still out there, don’t bother looking). I’d realised that to record the incredible Andy on the drums I’d probably need a kick drum mic, so I had a little shout out on Facebook to see if anyone had a D112 that I could borrow for a few days (Xander couldn’t make this session unfortunately!). Luckily, Benjamin also works in a school and had access to not only a D112, but a whole host of fun toys, and most importantly – his formidable guitar work. He had just got off the plane from Canada and so can’t actually remember much of the session through jet-lag, but we recorded around four songs and gained a permanent member of the band. Throughout the recording we also roped in the wonderful Jonathan Maimon for double bass duties (cheers John!). Avengers Assemble!

How has it changed since then?

Since then we unfortunately lost Andy to the Jazz world, which is probably where he belongs anyway. But that was the line up for the recording of the album, and since then we’ve expanded into forming a full ‘live’ band in Yorkshire – though Xander is only (only!) on production duties as it’s quite far to travel for band practice. Sam and Jack are providing their (incredible) rhythm section skills to proceedings.

What influences do you take?

I really haven’t a clue anymore! I listen to whatever’s on/around, and we quite often try to channel any bits that anyone’s heard recently. I’m sure ‘Third’ by Portishead is gonna go down as one of the most influential albums of recent(ish) times. I know that we tried to rip off the end of ‘Desire Lines’ by Deerhunter on a couple of occasions. I’m sure Stoogie could come up with a comprehensive list.

How was the album made?

After the initial recording session in the leafy(BORING) suburb of Ealing, we had several further sessions at the barn, each time in a school holiday, setting up a studio space and getting a bunch of beers in and occasionally having friends over to play on it and chill. It was amazing. The barn was a large room filled with all kinds of junk imaginable, and each time we seemed to amass an ever expanding array of instruments/gear/ideas. The organ Hit Machine (RIP brother) was a mainstay, and we did things like mic-ing up a gas canister through a boutique pedal board going into two amps and recording in stereo. It was pretty mad, and pretty special – and the comedown from the buzz was always hell. After my parents split they moved out of the farm so we had to do the final session in my mum’s summer house. The final recording session started on the day that Lou Reed died.

How would you describe it?

A document of a wonderful and terrible period in my life. Psychedelic folk with none of the stigma or trappings of either. 1000 late night group discussions on social media. An addiction. The crushing return to reality. Best New Music. A forgotten classic. An out of body experience. A 20mg comfort Citalopram hit.

There’s a whole bunch of different stuff in there to feast upon. Hurdy-gurdy spins through the joy of building a home. Tragicomedy waltzes into a ‘Point Break’-inspired surf guitar. A toddler bounds around having learnt how to walk to the pitter-patter of a samba beat. A near-psychedelic rumination upon the acceptance of death’s inevitability. Swaggering banjos reference ‘The Million Dollar Man’. A desperate plea to the mother of helpless son. A garage rock sequel to an absent homage to 1967. A seductive duet of mundane commitment. A lone candle slowly burns into a torch song. A misfiring kraut-rock engine climaxes with a ghostly hymn backed by sleazy bass. A false ending. An eight minute out-of-body experience featuring slide-banjo. A prayer to no god.

What’s next for The Silver Reserve?

We’ve only gone and got a live band together! So we’ve got a couple of gigs coming up to celebrate the album, and also we’ve started work on the next album – it’s going to be fun!

About Us

Spotlight on Zeb

Who are The Silver Reserve?

The Silver Reserve are a collective of musicians based around the song writing of Matthew ‘Stoogie’ Sturgess, featuring Xander Edwards, Benjamin Wall, Sam Foster, Jack Chandler and myself.

How did the band start?

Matthew and myself had met at a gathering at a mutual friend’s sometime in 08/09 – I’d been crashing there fairly regularly as the guest of the lodger (ha!), and Matthew had turned up with two large carrier bags full of CDs and proceeded to show us his latest finds. I definitely recall Man Man’s ‘Rabbit Habits’ getting a spin, along with [probably] whatever Sun Kil Moon album was out at the time; though the listening feast went on into the early hours after a whole bunch of beers and cigarettes later I’m sure we all located guitars/percussion and had a little jam. A few weeks/months after this I was invited out to a coalshed behind a friend’s house somewhere in Hull as Stoogie had written some songs and our friend Rory (who I was in a band with) had finally convinced him to record some. I hopped on my motorbike in the dead of night and made my way out the coal shed (this must’ve been sometime in Autumn/Winter as it was incredibly cold), and we spent the night in what might possibly be the smallest makeshift studio to have ever existed. The coal shed was separated into two ‘rooms’, one loaded with one of those incredibly fiddly digital 16 track recorders, complete with EZ (ha!) routing, and a whole bunch of headaches through a 1X5cm digital display; and the other room with just enough room to squeeze a double bass in. We stayed there until the early hours of daybreak, slowly layering up the tracks one by one (on account of there only being enough room for one musician at a time), with me pattering quietly away on a snare drum and various bits of percussion as Stoogie pained over his lyrics. It was fantastic fun, though I did end up making a racket with cymbals at a very ungodly hour (sorry Beresford Av!). I’m sure we had a couple more sessions in the coal shed, which formed the basis of the newly christened Rusty Bear album ‘Source to Sea’ (the title track was one such song).

Read more...

Following on from this recording, Sturgess found out about a church down Holderness Road that we could have access to after 4pm every evening for a week. Judging by our listening habits in car journeys around that time (Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti’s ‘Before Today’ and Deerhunter’s ‘Halcyon Digest’ spring to mind), I’m going to say that this was early in 2010. We’d ditched the digital 16 track in favour of Logic Pro and an Alesis 4-track interface, and we had a free reign ‘til the early hours each night. We made use of the various rooms, borrowing bits of recording gear from friends (though the church had a recording studio, we wanted to capture the natural reverb of the place!). It was all going great, and we really ran with the freedom granted to us with the upgraded DAW (that’s Digital Audio Workstation, folks!), putting down any/every instrument we could in all of the different rooms of the building. Then, disaster struck.

After one day of recording I was in the middle of burning the customary CD-R of that day’s work when my Mac swallowed the blank CD-R and refused to let go, constantly trying to regurgitate the disc with the ‘HNNGGGGG-RRRRR, HNNGGGGG-RRRRR’ of a cat constantly (and unsuccessfully) coughing up a digital furball. At this point we were kinda screwed, so I called up my main man Xander, who was in the middle of a music technology at LCM (Leeds College of Music).

Luckily, as Stoogie is a teacher we only get to record in the holidays, so handily Xander was about (and up for) coming over with his non-CD-R-constipated Mac, so we could continue the recording session. It just so happens that Xander (like myself) tends to be able to play whatever instruments are kicking about, and has a knack for Beach Boys-esque backing vocal lines, so he was a super-duper welcome to the then two piece. We kicked about the church and went a bit mad for a week, and even roped in our friend Paddy to drop some double bass down.

I’m gonna fast forward a while here, because after the church there was mainly a lot of mixing and recording vocals, which I wasn’t involved too much with.

(Though I will briefly mention that there was a scrapped recording session that was done in a ‘real’ studio, and a fifteen minute love song, and an additional scrapped ‘super-group’ recording session – there were some fantastic moments in all of these which I’m sure would sound great on the reissue someday HA)

‘Source to Sea’ by Rusty Bear was eventually released through Mollusc Records sometime in some year – I recall that we’d had some play on BBC6 just as I’d started my very own Music Technology degree at LCM (London College of Music) which was pretty cool y’know, and we decided to start work on album number two. I was living in the leafy(BORING) suburb of Ealing, and so Stoogie and Xander came over and we recorded two new songs, roping in the (considerable) skills of Andy Wilder on the drums. The songs had turned out pretty well, though we were fairly desperate to create more of a space to record in, so for the next session Andy, Stoogie and I went to my parent’s barn in the middle of nowhere (AKA Arnold Carr) to crack out a few more songs and get the album really moving along. Me being me I’d brought my Max along, and a little four input interface, and about three Audio Technica mics that I’d won in a competition to record the best Christmas song (still out there, don’t bother looking). I’d realised that to record the incredible Andy on the drums I’d probably need a kick drum mic, so I had a little shout out on Facebook to see if anyone had a D112 that I could borrow for a few days (Xander couldn’t make this session unfortunately!). Luckily, Benjamin also works in a school and had access to not only a D112, but a whole host of fun toys, and most importantly – his formidable guitar work. He had just got off the plane from Canada and so can’t actually remember much of the session through jet-lag, but we recorded around four songs and gained a permanent member of the band. Throughout the recording we also roped in the wonderful Jonathan Maimon for double bass duties (cheers John!). Avengers Assemble!

How has it changed since then?

Since then we unfortunately lost Andy to the Jazz world, which is probably where he belongs anyway. But that was the line up for the recording of the album, and since then we’ve expanded into forming a full ‘live’ band in Yorkshire – though Xander is only (only!) on production duties as it’s quite far to travel for band practice. Sam and Jack are providing their (incredible) rhythm section skills to proceedings.

What influences do you take?

I really haven’t a clue anymore! I listen to whatever’s on/around, and we quite often try to channel any bits that anyone’s heard recently. I’m sure ‘Third’ by Portishead is gonna go down as one of the most influential albums of recent(ish) times. I know that we tried to rip off the end of ‘Desire Lines’ by Deerhunter on a couple of occasions. I’m sure Stoogie could come up with a comprehensive list.

How was the album made?

After the initial recording session in the leafy(BORING) suburb of Ealing, we had several further sessions at the barn, each time in a school holiday, setting up a studio space and getting a bunch of beers in and occasionally having friends over to play on it and chill. It was amazing. The barn was a large room filled with all kinds of junk imaginable, and each time we seemed to amass an ever expanding array of instruments/gear/ideas. The organ Hit Machine (RIP brother) was a mainstay, and we did things like mic-ing up a gas canister through a boutique pedal board going into two amps and recording in stereo. It was pretty mad, and pretty special – and the comedown from the buzz was always hell. After my parents split they moved out of the farm so we had to do the final session in my mum’s summer house. The final recording session started on the day that Lou Reed died.

How would you describe it?

A document of a wonderful and terrible period in my life. Psychedelic folk with none of the stigma or trappings of either. 1000 late night group discussions on social media. An addiction. The crushing return to reality. Best New Music. A forgotten classic. An out of body experience. A 20mg comfort Citalopram hit.

There’s a whole bunch of different stuff in there to feast upon. Hurdy-gurdy spins through the joy of building a home. Tragicomedy waltzes into a ‘Point Break’-inspired surf guitar. A toddler bounds around having learnt how to walk to the pitter-patter of a samba beat. A near-psychedelic rumination upon the acceptance of death’s inevitability. Swaggering banjos reference ‘The Million Dollar Man’. A desperate plea to the mother of helpless son. A garage rock sequel to an absent homage to 1967. A seductive duet of mundane commitment. A lone candle slowly burns into a torch song. A misfiring kraut-rock engine climaxes with a ghostly hymn backed by sleazy bass. A false ending. An eight minute out-of-body experience featuring slide-banjo. A prayer to no god.

What’s next for The Silver Reserve?

We’ve only gone and got a live band together! So we’ve got a couple of gigs coming up to celebrate the album, and also we’ve started work on the next album – it’s going to be fun!