It may be a bit of an understatement, but let’s just say it took some time for Mauro Remiddi to find a face and a place to call his own. Having spent the majority of his life in Italy and London performing in multiple bands and composing scores for short films, Remiddi (then in his mid-30s) decided to leave it all behind for a life in New York creating music that he could call his own, under the moniker Porcelain Raft.

Porcelain Raft
Little Legend

Friday, September 13, 2013
The Frequency
9 PM; $10

Porcelain Raft’s debut, Strange Weekend, was a slice of stunning bedroom pop inspired by this move and the strange feelings of isolation that came with it. Remiddi’s follow up, the recently released Permanent Signal, doesn’t stray far from those thoughts of seclusion. But it does bring a more expansive sonic palate to the plate to match Remiddi’s delicate vocals, which leads to a breathtaking and despairing catharsis that remains unmatched by any album in 2013.

Porcelain Raft is currently touring behind Permanent Signal, and I spoke with Remiddi in anticipation of his only-$10 show this Friday night at The Frequency. This is an edited transcript of our chat: 

There was a strong overarching theme to your last album, Strange Weekend. What’s the story behind Permanent Signal?
“For Strange Weekend and for this album, I didn’t actually think about the theme beforehand. I would just record, and afterward — looking at it — I would understand, ‘Ah that’s what I was trying to portray.’ I never plan these things; that’s why I record in the first place. Sometimes you don’t know what you’re feeling and you need to record an album to really understand it.

“After I recorded it, I just felt that lots of those songs had this feeling of being disconnected from so many things. You have to understand, the moment I arrived in New York I recorded Strange Weekend right away and then went on tour. You have to understand that there was a transition — but I didn’t live in New York, really. My old friends in London and Italy, I didn’t really hear from them because you’re on tour and there are so many things you have to sort out.

“On tour you have this state of mind, like an AM radio station. All the thoughts in the world are on the same platform: very important things are on the same level as very stupid things. I would be on tour, thinking of one of my friends and then forgot to call or send him an email. And when the tour ended, I realized ‘I don’t have a life in New York’. I felt new here. I didn’t have any connection with anybody. That was the moment I realized I needed to record; there was a moment that was both fragile and insecure — as well as beautiful. These are the moments where you learn the most about yourself. That’s the theme of the album: coming back to New York and slowly realizing what really matters.” 

So it’s sort of like you use your music as a way to look back and flesh out the mental state or place you were in when you made the recordings?
“Yeah, honestly, it’s like a page of a diary that I only write in when I feel the moment of transition. But this transition is one where I felt weak; I don’t mind being weak. There were things that I didn’t know I was feeling, but you record it and look back on it, and everything becomes a little more clear. I don’t want to make it sound therapeutic — it’s like writing a page of a diary of my life, but it’s also entertainment. I need to be entertained, to be excited about it.

“For this album I went to record in a studio. I was used to recording in a bedroom — I have so much control in my bedroom. But I really wanted to feel excited about it. I didn’t want to have so much control of the sound. I wanted to try something different. I like to improvise with things that I have in front of me and sometimes it was very successful, sometimes it was less successful. But the point was to be in a new situation and have that excitement.”

Working with other artists in a studio and having previously fleshed out Strange Weekend tracks live — did that help you fully realize your sound on Permanent Signal?
Strange Weekend didn’t have real drums, and when I started touring I realized I really needed to have the power of real drums. It’s the size of what you do that determines the music you make. Before, I used drum machines—fine, I love drum machines. It sounded great because it was the right size for it. Once I started supporting M83 and Beach House, I was playing very big places. And what I was doing didn’t make very much sense at all.

“When I approached this album, I really wanted a sound that would fit a big venue. Not because of thinking big — because to be honest with you I won’t play big venues. It was more out of the curiosity to create something that would work in that big space. That’s why I wanted to use real drums, real bass. That’s why I needed a good drummer and another musician like Darby [Cicci of The Antlers] to help me put real instruments there.”

This fall you’re headlining your own tour. What’s your set up going to look like?
“Me on guitar and keyboards, a bass and keys player, and a drummer. I would say the sound this time is way more epic, but it’s not like I see myself doing this like that again —  with this album this just really works. That’s why I like the idea that the project is just me: I can change the size of it anytime I want.” 

You’ve been a very active recorder in the last three years. Do you have anything new in the works?
“I actually do, but I also know that whatever I’m thinking now could change within a few months. So yes, I never stop thinking in those terms. But I also know that there will come a time when it’s just time to record — whether that be a dance piece, or whatever. When I start doing it, I will just gather my thoughts and see what comes to the top of my head.”

Speaking of that hypothetical dance piece, are you comfortable releasing music of any genre under the Porcelain Raft name?
“I’ve thought about it, and I really don’t know what to say. In my head it makes sense that I would do everything under that name. But also, if you like my albums and you see my name on something and it’s so different, you might be a bit upset. I don’t want to mislead anybody, so I might start using my own name if I start making soundtracks or music for dance pieces.

“But also, I could make it clear that everything I do using the name Porcelain Raft could be different every time — that idea of a man that constantly changes himself and what he does.”

And just what is the meaning behind the Porcelain Raft name?
“It was an accident. I was collecting words that I really liked and I started to combine these words together. It’s brilliant because ‘Porcelain Raft’ will naturally force you to imagine a place where a raft made of porcelain would float. There’s a line it draws where cynical people will just say, ‘Oh a raft made of porcelain will sink.’ But other kinds of people will make an effort to imagine this thing floating somewhere. So it draws a line, and all the cynical people will get away from me. It’s like kryptonite for cynical people.”

You mentioned soundtracks earlier, and Permanent Signal has a couple of powerful instrumental tracks. Is that a direction you can see yourself going in?
“To be honest with you, yes. It’s a dream of mine to do a full soundtrack for a movie, or even for a dance piece. That’s where I’m headed to. The visual side of it — the movement and the music —  that’s how I think. The songwriting is pure amusement, but the soundtrack thing you are talking about, I’m slowly trying to put that inside of what I do.

“I can easily see myself making a double album where one record is instrumentals. It feels so real to me. I realized that when I did this album; I realized there’s this strong side of my personality and my music that I never actually show. With Permanent Signal I gave myself a chance to show it, and that’s why this album is so important to me.”

About The Author

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Andrew Brandt is the albums editor for Jonk Music and a former senior writer. He has also contributed to Pretty Much Amazing, Turntable Kitchen and Isthmus. Andrew eats Roma® Original Pizzas like they’re giant cookies.