Daniel Foggin Discusses Songs From The Free House

Transmission 274: Interview with Smote

Smote is the musical project of Daniel Foggin. What began with minimal solo recordings using a single microphone has since developed into a more sonically expansive work. The compositions are grounded in the Northumbrian landscape, translating its history and atmosphere into sound through drone structures, local folklore, and the weight of heavy electronics.

Title: Songs From The Free House
Artist: Smote
Release Date: 2025-10-17
Genres: Avant-garde, Doom Metal, Drone, Experimental Music, Noise Rock, Psychedelic Rock
Label: Rocket Recordings
Description: Smote interview: Daniel Foggin on the dark folk, pagan rhythms, and hypnotic mystery of 'Songs From The Free House'.

His latest full-length for the label Rocket Recordings, Songs From The Free House, was recorded with producer Sam Grant, marking a shift from a solitary DIY process to a more widescreen studio sound. The album’s sonic palette is also widened by contributions from collaborators, including Ian Lynch of Lankum on Uilleann pipes.

What were you listening to when you decided to start making music before Smote?

The eye-opening gigs, particularly in Newcastle, were bands like Bong. They used to play Roadburn quite a lot. It’s Mike Vest, Don Terry and Mike Smith, and they were a three-piece drone rock band, like Amplifier Worship. A lot of local bands like that, to be honest, like Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs. They came around that time. Richard Dawson too. Great guy. A lot of bands from Newcastle early on, I think. Before that, the old stuff. I loved Creedence when I was young, and Jimi Hendrix and stuff, but that was before I got into folk and experimental music.

How did you start Smote?

I started recording in my bedroom with one microphone. I had one SM57, an acoustic guitar, a flute, and a tambourine. That’s pretty much it on the first EP maybe.

I took it into the practice room and started using a few more microphones and amplifiers and just started learning more about recording and playing more instruments as it progressed. Simple to start.

What is The Freehouse and why did it become the center of these songs?

A Freehouse in England is another name for a pub. A lot of the songs on the album are fake stories or old tales that may or may not have been told in the pub a long time ago, or that I heard from one person or another when I was in the Scottish Borders, which is near where I live now. I suppose it’s a vague reference to old folk tales that may have been told in the pub.

What specifically drew you to the Linton Wyrm legend? And is other local folklore hidden in the album tracks?

Yeah, The Linton Wyrm. I just loved the story and I loved the guy that told me the story. I was working with the drummer Rob on a farm and there was a roofing fella who was working there and he was kind of old and a bit fucked, you know?

He told us the story and he really believed it. I kind of do as well, in a way, because it’s an explanation of why the hills look a certain way there. There’s a church with a plaque above the door, a very old church, and the plaque above the door is dedicated to the knight that allegedly killed the worm in the story. It’s nice to see a real-world reference to it. But there are vague references throughout the album. I think it’s mostly about day-to-day life.

For example the last song on the album, is about working, really, and not thinking when you’re working. I was digging once, doing landscaping, and I asked my boss, “What do you think about when you’re digging, when you’re gardening?” And he said “nothing.” He doesn’t think about anything except the digging. I thought that was so nice that when he’s doing the work in the mud, his head’s empty. That’s all he thinks about.

There’s stuff like that about normal day-to-day life too.

The inspiration comes more from random encounters or research?

Random encounters, I would say. I don’t do a whole lot of research. I’ll let it come to me.

I’d like to get into doing more research, but I’ve got enough coming to me naturally for now. Enough to feel like I want to make something with it. I feel good about it for now, but maybe in the future I’ll do some research.

Which painters, filmmakers or writers influence the atmosphere, your sound, if any, of course?

Film. A lot of film, a lot of cinema. I’ve mentioned Hard to Be a God before by Alexei German, and that’s a great movie because the set design is amazing, it’s so beautiful, and it’s filthy. You feel like you’re there.

Other directors like Béla Tarr, who did, I hope it’s pronounced, Sátántangó, a six-hour sort of Eastern European movie. He also did The Turin Horse, and they’re all along the same lines of being quite a heavy watch and quite all-engrossing and tiring to experience. The atmosphere of those movies is a pretty big inspiration for the music.

Is there a particular season or time of day when you feel most creatively connected to nature?

Yeah, I love the summertime. I’m a summertime guy because you can spend more time outside. You can sit down all day and be comfortable and be in it for longer. I mean, it’s all great, generally speaking. You can still go outside when it’s cold, but the comfort of it is different. It’s more welcoming, and you can take your time more. Summer for sure. That’s where I’m at. I was born in the summer as well, so maybe that’s got something to do with it.

Do you ever use field recordings from your gardening work? I don’t know, the sound of wind, tools or earth as a texture in your music?

No tool sounds yet, but I’d like to. I’d like to incorporate some digging and find out where that fits. But lots of field recordings have been made outside day to day. On the first two records there was some birds and some wind and some rivers, and on Songs From The Free House, the first song has a river in it that’s not far from me. It’s a nice way to transport the listener. Of course, it’s the easiest way, but it’s nice to have some relevance there.

What changed when Sam Grant produced Songs From The Free House from a sound point of view?

It’s a huge difference, I think, for me anyway, because I’ve had no formal training with producing music. It was all guesswork and learning and playing by ear. But Sam is a genius. Having him on board made a huge difference to the particular sounds and how all the tracks work together and nothing swamps one another. Whereas on the previous records, sometimes things fell to the background because I was unsure of where to EQ them or pan them or push the decibels in certain ways. Sam really helped bring some clarity and spread the sound across the whole hearing range, I guess.

Even the process of recording was crazy because before it used to be me with a laptop in a practice room tripping over wires and having to press restart on the recording every time. Having something as simple as someone restarting the recording every time I need that to be done made it a much more relaxing process, I guess. It takes a lot of the pressure off.

Separating myself from the mixing process as well, not having as much say in what goes where, made it a lot easier to step back and accept it for what it is. Whereas previously I would spend hours and hours tweaking things by a tiny bit, and in the end, I don’t think I made too much difference. Endless appreciation to Sam. I think he knows his stuff.

How did the collaboration with Ian Lynch of Lankum come about?

That was amazing. We met Ian last year at Supersonic, and Roadburn wanted us to play the album A Grand Stream in full and asked us to bring extra musicians. I just messaged Ian on Instagram. I didn’t think he would say yes because he’s so busy with Lankum and ØXN. He came back and said yes. We spent some time together in April and had a great time.

Then Supersonic was coming around and Lisa emailed asking if we wanted to do a DJ set originally. It accidentally escalated. It then turned into a drone set, and then we asked if we could bring bass and drums. It ended up being in the O2 in the end, which was crazy. That was super fun. We love those guys. George as well, who also plays in ØXN. We had no practice before the gig; that was straight on stage, play what you want. But it worked out nice. We’ll hopefully do it again.

What’s your essential piece of equipment?

Whoa. I love equipment. I think either the guitar or the amplifier for me; both are super special. I’ve got one of the aluminum neck guitars from the 70s, which is a Kramer. That sounds super special. I don’t think I’d want to play a wooden guitar anymore.

The amplifier is a 70s Sound City, which is an old master volume amplifier. It’s super powerful and really nasty live, and I love that. I’m not sure I’d want to get rid of either of those anytime soon.

And next project?

My next project? There’ll be another Smote album. I’ve been playing with Don Terry on a drone project. I don’t know if you know Don, a Newcastle-based artist. And Adam Sykes as well. I’ve been making some music with Adam Sykes from Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs. A lot going on, but hopefully 2026 will see some of it.

Will you tour now?

We’re touring this week. Yeah. We go on Friday, we go down to Falmouth. We’re all over the UK for the next two weeks. In May, we are going to Europe for a week, around the Netherlands and Belgium, and ending at Sonic Whip festival. That’ll be fun.

Photos courtesy of Smote

Matteo Damiani

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