A collection of “husband & wife duos, pub legends, one-man-bands, preachers’ sons, and country-lounge entertainers.” About two years ago, the Santa Cruz-based archival projects company Smiling C issued […]
In Conversation: Scott Gilmore

Scott Gilmore’s ‘Volume 01’ will be released on vinyl for the first time on November 15th.
Multi-instrumentalist Scott Gilmore has been quietly developing his own musical language for the better part of two decades. A native of the San Fernando Valley, Gilmore records daily in his home studio, a space that he has carefully built as an escape from his surrounding environment, which he describes as a place that “offers little to no distraction and virtually no direct inspiration.” His music has a cinematic quality to it, often compared to the great library music of the ’60s and ’70s, though Gilmore himself claims not to approach music from a visual place at all. “I enjoy melodies, and chord changes that travel a lot of places,” he says.
Gilmore’s debut album Volume 01 was released in 2016 after an extended hiatus from writing and recording music. After finishing the record, he gave out CD-R’s to various friends and a few labels, to no reply. Since then, the album has become something of a cult classic to those who have heard it. On November 15th, In Sheep’s Clothing is proud to present the first-ever vinyl release of Volume 01 alongside a digital release from legendary Belgain label Crammed Discs.
Pre-order the vinyl here: https://insheepsclothinghifi.com/product/scott-gilmore-volume-01-lp/
Join us for an in-store release party on Friday, November 15th at Sound & Vision at ROW DTLA featuring a dedicated album listening along with DJ sets by Cate Kennan and AV Moves. Details here.
In anticipation of the vinyl release, In Sheep’s Clothing’s Phil Cho spoke with Gilmore at his home recording studio (Odyssey Studios) in the San Fernando Valley to learn more about his musical upbringing, formative albums, releasing music on Mark Barrott’s International Feel, Ethiopian music, and more!
Hey Scott! I wanted to start at the beginning… What’s your earliest musical memory?
I was probably six-and-a-half. I had just started taking guitar lessons and I was learning Jimi Hendrix. I remember I was at school walking to the first-grade classroom, and hearing the song ‘Wild Thing’ play in my head. That’s probably my earliest memory of being invested in music.
I understand you’re somewhat trained as a musician. I’ve seen you with sheet music at shows. I’m curious, what is your musical background?
I started taking guitar lessons at a young age, and I studied with the same teacher for a long time, 10 or so years. He tried to teach me scales, and a bit of theory, but I never really internalized it, so he gave up on that, and we just learned songs. I would bring my favorite CD’s and we’d learn by ear. Most of my early years of getting into music wasn’t formal training, it was just learning how to play the stuff that I liked. It was much later that I studied music theory. I studied jazz and classical music in college, and for a couple of years took classical piano lessons, which was the most formal part of my music training.
Do you feel like your theory background heavily influences your songs now? Your melodies and harmonies always sound quite layered and intricate.
If it does, it’s unconscious. I don’t actively think about theory when writing music. I try to intentionally get myself lost by writing a chord change that I don’t understand. As for it’s layered, or intricate nature, I really love the music of Bach, and the use of counter-melodies. I like how in polyphonic music every part receives equal attention. I like to think of every part as a melody, and I think it’s that way of listening that likely contributes to any layered, or intricate nature that my music may have.

“I can also see how my melodies sometimes have a kind of nostalgic or romantic quality to them, but I wouldn’t describe them as being nostalgic for some specific past.”
Do you ever re-analyze your own work from a theory perspective to see what’s going on there?
No, I don’t. But sometimes I use theory to help get myself out of a corner. If I write an unconventional chord change, and have laid down a melody on top, sometimes when approaching the bass line, or a vocal harmony, if it’s elusive, I’ll use theory to understand what’s happening and that can help inform where to put any remaining parts.
When you talk about getting lost within the music, do you ever feel like the training can sometimes hinder getting completely lost?
I’m not sure. It’s likely that my knowledge of theory is always present somewhere in my mind, and I can see how the ability to identify something is a trait that works against truly being lost. Compared to someone with no musical knowledge at all sitting down at a piano, yes, that person would certainly be more lost than I am, relative to generating a harmonious sound. But while writing, I’m not actively trying to identify anything within the framework of theory. While writing a song, I’m not satisfied with a chord change unless it evokes in me some degree of wonder, and I usually feel wonder, or at the very least intrigue, in response to a piece of music because it possesses some quality that is unknown or unpredictable to me. While writing a chord change, I have no idea where it will go. I just fumble around until something feels right. It’s that aspect of being lost that I’m referring to – writing music from a place of discovery.
Can you trace any key moments or crucial albums that shaped the way you interpret or listen to music?
Yea, there are so many. I would list them all, but to explain all the ways they’ve shaped my conception of music would be a very long answer. To name just two, I would say “Hollywood” by Cluster, and a track off of ‘Lumpy Gravy,’ by Zappa, that starts around 1:45 into Side A, and goes for about two minutes. Both of those songs presented music to me in ways that I’d never conceived of before. In Cluster’s song, I had no idea how the sounds were being generated. I was also mesmerized by the ever evolving chord change. It’s very difficult to compositionally place that song in a genre. Cluster definitely inspired in me a desire to understand synthesis. In the Zappa piece, I was so struck by the melodic shapes, and the harmonic and meter changes. I find it to be a breathtakingly beautiful composition. Both of those songs feel so simultaneously musically free and aesthetically beautiful. They both strike me as being unencumbered by both genre and culture. I was probably around 15 or 16 when I heard those songs, and I’m still in awe of them today.
Did you get into synthesizers around this time as well?
Yes, I did, but I didn’t own any of my own for a while after. As far as keyboards, I had some nondescript Casio for a long time. The first synth I bought was a monophonic Yamaha CS01, and a few years later, I was lent an Arp Odyssey. It took years of messing around with them to finally understand the signal path and how to manipulate the waveforms to do what I wanted them to do.
When did you actually start recording your own music?
When I was around 11, maybe younger, I had a four-track cassette recorder that I used to make recordings with. The songs were just a few tracks of layered guitar and occasionally maybe some singing. It was on that small tape machine that I first starting having fun with recording sounds.
You’ve been based in the San Fernando Valley for a long time now. What can you tell me about the SFV and how it informs your music (either directly or indirectly)?
I think it’s influenced my music in an existential sense. The Valley, at least from my experience of it, doesn’t offer much to engage with when attempting to find or create meaning. I find the Valley to be a significantly vapid environment that offers little to no distraction and virtually no direct inspiration for me. It’s a real test of living from within an existential framework. It’s hard to say the way in which the environment influences the nature of my music – its sounds, its chord changes, its melodies – I honestly don’t think that it does. But, the way in which it’s impacted my music making is the way in which I’ve developed a disciplined artistic practice, which I’ve formed, at least in part, as a way to fill the glaring, incessant emptiness that permeates this place.
I remember first hearing your music through Mark Barrott’s Ibiza-based label International Feel and thinking “Wow, this is balearic music from the San Fernando Valley!” Do you think of your music in that way?
I didn’t know what Balearic music was when I released that album. Even now, I don’t really know what it is. What are the defining characteristics of balearic music?
It’s a tricky question actually… I would say, there’s a sort of undefinable world music influence with a sort of mellow, carefree approach and nostalgic or romantic melodies. It’s related to Ibiza and the Balearic islands, of course, but it’s also not exactly tied to a specific place.
Based on those descriptions, I can see how my music fits that definition. It’s definitely on the mellower side, and has a carefree aspect to the way it comes across. I can also see how my melodies sometimes have a kind of nostalgic or romantic quality to them, but I wouldn’t describe them as being nostalgic for some specific past. I’d say they are nostalgic in the sense of homesickness, or longing. I spent a lot of years listening to Ethiopian music from the 70’s, and one of the most famous songs, of which there are a lot of recordings of from that era, is called ‘Tezeta’, which translates to memory, nostalgia, or longing. It’s likely from countless hours of listening to, and loving that music that those emotions worked their way into my melodies.
Speaking of Ethiopian music, I wonder what artists or albums you were listening to?
There were those Éthiopiques compilations that were being released around the time I was getting into that music. I forget how many volumes there are, but I was listening to quite a few of those. From there I got into specific artists, and the ones who really stand out, and who I was listening to a lot were Ephrem Tamiru, The Roha Band, Mesfin Abebe, and the Kingston Band.
Moving on to the record… You recorded ‘Vol 01’ directly onto tape, with just a few instruments. Can you talk about the process of recording this album?
There was no computer involved in recording Vol 01. I used an 8 track, 1/4” tape machine, with one working effect send, and a spring reverb unit, to record and mix the album. I would usually start a song with the Roland TR-606, and make a beat. Then I’d pick up the guitar and write a chord progression with it. With only eight tracks, it’s very difficult to edit or re-work things, so every choice that’s made is a significant step towards the final sound. They all came together fairly quickly, in an almost improvisational fashion. It was a while ago, and I can’t remember too many specifics about that whole process.
I’ve always loved the sound of your keyboard and synthesizer parts. Do you remember which keyboards or synthesizers you were using during that time?
I was using an Hohner Pianet T, a Yamaha CS01, a Korg DW8000, and an Arp Odyssey MKII on loan from a friend.

“I love being influenced by other music. I don’t listen to a lot of music because it’s simultaneously deeply inspiring and stressful.”
To me, your music has a very cinematic quality to it. Library music is often mentioned alongside your work. Do you approach your music in that sort of visual way?
No, I don’t approach music from a visual place at all, but I have heard people describe my music in that way many times now. I enjoy melodies, and chord changes that travel a lot of places. I think it’s likely that aspect of my compositional choices, as well as its instrumental nature, that evokes the associations to film music for some people. I’m drawn to writing melodies and harmonic structures that have movement and shape to them and that venture beyond crucifying themselves to the tonic.
Do you have any other specific memories from recording the album?
On the song “Shade,” I remember recording the counter melody, which was the last part to be tracked before that song was done. My friend was in the studio with me, and as she was lounging on the floor, I improvised the second melody while capturing it on tape. A lot of the album was recorded in that way – much of it improvised, without over thinking, and simply trusting my intuition in any given moment while recording the take, usually all the way through.
I know for the most part you seem to take a pretty introspective approach to music - meaning you don’t listen to much music while you’re creating. Is this to avoid being too influenced by other music?
No, not at all. I have no fear of being influenced. I love being influenced by other music. I don’t listen to a lot of music because it’s simultaneously deeply inspiring and stressful. When I’m inspired by something that’s aesthetically or compositionally disparate from whatever I’m currently working on, it’s a reminder of the fact that I will die long before I get to actualize all of the music that I want to make. I feel too invigorated, too inspired, and I can’t act on it, and there’s nowhere for all of that energy to go. There’s only so much time, and when making records I have to choose what to focus on. When I listen to music that I love, and it sounds nothing like what I’m currently making, it feels like one foot is flooring the gas while the other is pressing the brakes.
If there was a Scott Gilmore approach to music and production, what would you describe it as?
In relation to my own music, I’d describe it as a process of experimentation and discovery. I approach writing and recording songs from a place of attempting to create something that I can’t clearly define. Like I said earlier, I like getting myself lost, and it’s from that point that the journey begins. It’s about creating nonsense (some obtuse chord change, or unpredictable b-section) and then attempting to make sense out of it, and somehow finding a way to make it work – to make it feel convincing, and effortless.
