A conversation with Clive Ives on Woo’s dazed masterpiece

Transmission 306: Interview with Woo

Woo, the long-running project of brothers Mark and Clive, exists in the productive tension between jazz-inflected melody and the raw hiss of early electronic experimentation. Emerging in the early 1970s with a four-track recorder, early vocoders, and a Roland System 100, they built a sonic architecture of “mysterious techniques.”

Title: Whichever Way You Are Going, You Are Going Wrong
Artist: WOO
Release Date: 2026-01-16
Genres: Ambient, Avant-garde, Electronica, Experimental Music, Free Jazz
Label: Independent Project Records
Description: Clive Ives discusses the archival logic of Woo, the influence of Joan Miró, and the "mysterious techniques" behind their electronic-jazz synthesis.

The 22-track expanded edition of Whichever Way You Are Going, You Are Going Wrong documents seven years of home-studio isolation. By incorporating 10 previously unreleased recordings, this edition maps a period of constant creation fueled by the tactile, late-life energy of Joan Miró. This collaboration with Independent Project Records pulls decades of experimentation back to the surface, framing the duo’s history through mirrored, kaleidoscopic visuals that echo the reality of their interlocked sound.

What was the specific spark that led two brothers to build a home studio in the 70s instead of joining a band?

[Clive Ives] I don’t think we ever aspired to be live performers. We were always more interested in recording sound and in the creative process.

What were you listening to before making music?

When we were eight or nine years old, The Beatles were really famous. We were listening to every inspiring album they produced. They were mainly our biggest influence.

Before we were recording, both Mark and I listened to classical music. My brother was in the RAF (Royal Air Force) for a year, learning to play clarinet, and a bit of musical theory with that. It’s a long time ago, so it’s hard to remember everything I listened to. We would just listen to the radio. I remember things like Sparky the Magic Piano on the radio. Did you ever hear that? It’s a children’s song and it was one of the first tracks that uses of a vocoder.

In the song, this piano was speaking to a little boy in a melodic way. A lot of our music incorporates vocoders. Of course, vocoders are everywhere now, but back then it was an inspiration for us.

Did the South London suburb influence your sound?

I suppose it must have done, but it’s not very apparent to me. I think our interest was in more diverse things than the local neighbourhood. Our inspirations were from all kinds of music, and the spiritual and esoteric things we were looking at.

Did you two share a unified vision or was the world born out of brotherly friction?

Definitely a unified vision. I think it was a very interesting time in the early 70s; it was the first time you could have a home recording studio with a four-track recorder, a simple synthesizer, a guitar, and a few instruments. Obviously, there has been friction because we’re both quite strong-willed and don’t always agree, but we have an agreement that unless both of us say yes to any decision, we don’t do it.

We have an agreement that unless both of us say yes to any decision, we don’t do it.”

Is there a common thread in the album or is it a series of non-sequential episodes?

That album (Whichever Way You Are Going, You Are Going Wrong) came from seven years of home recording. We selected 13 tracks from several hundred that we thought would represent the main ways we were approaching our music. They were quite diverse, all from different years. What I’m happy about is that they really felt like they fitted together very well.

What was your biggest technical challenge trying to record your experimentation on 80s home gear?

There were definitely times when the limitations of our equipment were frustrating. As a good example, the opening track on this album, Swingtime, was possibly the first track we recorded using a specific setup. I got a guy to make a little unit that he called a SMPTE box, and it linked the drum machine to the sequencer.

That was a quantum leap in technology because before that, we couldn’t get the drum machines talking to the synthesizers. What you hear on that track is our euphoria about having this integrated sound. I can picture us in the studio, just jamming through this thing while this rhythm was going and my brother had put the chords in. It was a very exciting moment to actually get a bit of technology that worked like that.

While digging through the archives do you ever find a track and think, “How did we even make that sound?”

Very often. I’ve even had people phone me up, asking me that very question. I remember a phone call years ago, during which someone put the needle on one of our records and asked, “How did you do this bit?” Unfortunately, we didn’t remember in this case, because we use quite mysterious techniques.

What you hear on that track is our euphoria about having this integrated sound. I can picture us in the studio, just jamming through this thing while this rhythm was going and my brother had put the chords in.”

There’s a tension between the smooth melodies and the experimental structure. Was that out of sync feeling intentional?

I think that comes from my brother’s approach, which is more melody based, more rooted in jazz music, and involves more understanding of music theory. My understanding is more limited, but I work more with the technical equipment. I think that created a good push and pull between us which created that tension of our music.

Is there an instrument or equipment that defines the sounds for you?

Not one particular bit of equipment, but when we got our second synthesizer, the Roland System 100, it had an input socket, with which I could put Mark‘s guitar through a microphone or a lead into my synthesizer. This is the basis of most of our recordings because Mark could play the chord structures, and while we’re recording, I’m changing either the tonal sounds or the sequence settings. For a lot of our recordings, particularly in the first 10 years, that was the base track before we overlayed the melody tracks.

I saw this film when I was in my teenage years and I remember thinking that’s what I’d like to be like when I’m older: still wanting to be creative.”

Are there any non-musical influences on your sounds?

As an art student, I loved looking at art. I had quite a love affair with Miro. There was a film I saw of him when he was about 80 years old. You just see him walking up to a small canvas, where he uses his fingers to paint. He said, “I sleep for 15 hours a day, but as long as I can have two or three hours a day where I’m still painting, I am a happy man.” I saw this film when I was in my teenage years and I remember thinking that’s what I’d like to be like when I’m older: still wanting to be creative. I feels for Mark and me, it’s been a bit like that. We’re still working together and enjoying the journey.

What are some of the most unforgettable moments of your career together?

The first one was the original release of this album we’re talking about. We had been working for seven years and suddenly our music was being listened to! That was a very exciting moment.

About a decade ago, Tim Yealland from the English Touring Opera called us. He said, “I want you to write a children’s opera.” He was going to take it touring around England. Mark and I hadn’t recorded music for many years and I didn’t even have any recording equipment. It seemed like this was coming as an opportunity to begin again, so we agreed to do the project. It was a really wonderful way back into recording together.

He toured this show around England and went to Luxembourg with it twice. It was a very magical experience because it was so out of our usual comfort zone to actually write for this genre. He wrote the libretto—a charming story called Waxwings. It is about an autistic boy who isn’t very happy at school and wants to escape, and he ends up flying with the birds. We were so happy to do the music for this project.

How involved are you in the visual look of these new reissues?

It’s been great working with Bruce Licher from Independent Project Records in California. Bruce and I have a very creative connection. When he proposed re-releasing this album, he invited me to send him some ideas for the artwork. I did these collages for the cover, reworking the original front and back cover artwork. The photographs of Mark and I were actually taken in our garden when Melody Maker came to interview us back in 1982 when the original album came out. We received contact prints of the photo shoot and I got them blown up. I made the collages, putting our images through a “kaleidoscope” to mirror them. This way we are looking in many directions, which I thought somehow reflected the title, Whichever Way You Are Going, You Are Going Wrong.

Are you working on new material right now?

Yes. I just sit at a piano and I get simple shapes that I like, then I do my best to feed them into my computers and take it from there. Mainly in the last decade, my brother and I have been busy going back over the old archives. Mark is very motivated to get all these little bits of music that we’ve done and put them into cohesive track lists. That’s been our main focus. Just before Christmas, we put one of our newer albums from the last five years of recording on our Bandcamp page. We called it M = C.

Photos courtesy of Woo

Matteo Damiani

Matteo Damiani is an Italian photographer and author. Curator of the sites Retrofuturista.com; weirditaly.com; china-underground.com and others