Sharron Fortnam – singer, bassist and songwriter – has been involved in so much of the music that we have loved over the last 30 years: Lake of Puppies, Shrubbies, North Sea Radio Orchestra, Cardiacs and Led Bib to name but a few. But in 2024 she launched her very first ‘solo’ project – Kugelschreiber – that brought her songwriting to the fore. And it’s magical.
Aitch chatted to Sharron ahead of Kugelschreiber’s gig with us on Sat 25th January 2025.
What is your first musical memory? And how do you think it influenced you as your future musical self?
I don’t know what my first musical memory was, but my life has always been a musical one. There are early memories that I am certain influenced me profoundly. This one comes to mind quite strongly because I was talking about it over Christmas with friends. I used to go to my cousin’s house; they were quite a bit older than me, and we were all obsessed with Abba, the 3 of us, and we used to learn the songs. And just to note, everyone can sing in my family, so I’m not an anomaly. Everyone’s musical. So we used to learn Abba songs, and make routines. And what an education that was.
And now I have an Agnetha voice and a Frida voice and I do it on purpose sometimes because I want to use certain words in a song, and if I continue in the voice I’ve started in, that word is going to be hard to sing. So I might have to go a little bit nasal, and that’s like Agnetha. If you want to go a little bit saucy, that’s Frida. But we would do Benny and Björn as well. We didn’t just do the girls.
Yeah, but they weren’t as sparkly as the girls.
I kind of beg to differ, because sometimes the guys had…I’ll call it a ‘catch-all’ harmony because I know nothing about music theory or the correct terminology. There are these definite lines, one might be a 3rd or a 5th or something like that, and then there’ll be this catch-all that just weaves between them all. Whenever I write one of those, I know I’m doing Abba, and that makes me happy.
There’s a song on Cheerleaders (Kugelschreiber’s 1st album) called Hold on, Space Cadet! It has a wormhole section in it. Chip (Cummins, fellow Kugelschreiber band member) suggested that as the wormhole gets closer to 1977, surely bits of 1977 will be getting sucked into it – and I thought “you’re right! We need some Abba!” And so that’s what we did – we recorded some Abba – just the 2 of us doing the harmonies. And then we just mashed it in, because of the wormhole to 1977.
That’s fabulous. So that links nicely to one of my questions actually. Your bandcamp page says:
“Kugelschreiber write pop songs inspired by scientific concepts, human behaviour and parallels between the two”
So my question is, where did the science/humans connection concept come from?
Well, I love science and I wouldn’t say I’m obsessed with anything in particular, but I am trying so hard to understand quantum physics and some days I do think I know a thing or 2, and then other days I feel like… maybe not. I feel the best way, not the only way, but the best way for me to try to process what I know is to immediately write about it but also, it turns out, with this record particularly, to apply it to human relationships because it seems to me that we’re all made of the stuff they’re talking about. So why wouldn’t that be a direct influence on everything? On this, now, what’s happening with us [us being herself & Aitch, interviewer]. There’s chemistry here. I feel it. Maybe you’ve got some entangled particles with mine. Maybe that’s what chemistry is. Maybe you meet some people, and there’s shit loads of those entangled particles. And sometimes it could lead to a sexual relationship. Or it could be a really fast friendship. Or it could be a musical partnership. And just that idea, of entanglement, that makes me almost want to weep. We’re connected. We’re connected to everything. They’ve proved it. So I love the idea that, if you fall in love with somebody, and there’s great chemistry, then are you changing one another?
On an atomic level? Absolutely, absolutely. For me, the connection is in the vibrations, the human energy vibrations connecting with the music vibrations. I feel you’ve captured this energetic focus in your music. And I wanted to gush a little bit over a verse from the single (me x u) ≠ (u x me) that so beautifully represents this dual focus:
Do you alter at an atomic scale
if I move the ground beneath your feet?
We could be entangled from afar,
unknowingly. We do not exist:We’re alive in EVERYTHING!
I heard that and I got all the tingles.
Thank you. I think it really is just me trying to understand it better. And I just love the idea that energy doesn’t die.
Yeah, absolutely. I believe it’s a way of dealing with loss and grief as well, that you can think about that energy as being – well, still there, just maybe a different shape.
Yeah, which makes me think about my compost. When you have a compost heap, you don’t waste anything. In fact, initially, you’re feeding any creatures that want to help themselves to what’s in your compost. But then, of course, fungus breaks it down…
The good old mycelium network.
Yeah, exactly. Have you seen that experiment? The mycelium network one where they made a map and put mounds of dirt for the cities, and the mycelium recreated the road network?
Ah, the slime mould experiments! One of my favorite things in the world is slime mould, which is like the weirdest thing to love but all those single cells working as a collective… Have you read Entangled Life?
I haven’t finished it. I find it very difficult to finish a book. I’ve got the book, and I’ve got the audio book, and I have to periodically stop and I feel like I just let my brain do its processing, and then I’ll go back to it. I do my best thinking when I say to my brain, “Right, okay, you do your thing now”.
That’s how understanding quantum physics happens for me. It’s not really a conscious understanding. It’s more of a kind of gut feeling based on some unconscious background processing.
Well, I’m glad to hear you say that. With physics I get the gut feeling of understanding, I just don’t get the maths. I want to understand physics, but I’m not sure it can be put into words. When I hear physicists talking, and some of them do a really good job, some of them, they’re talking about the maths, but obviously they can’t properly describe the maths, and I know there’s such beauty in it – it’s art, it’s fundamentally creativity. I want that mathematic vocabulary. I also like the idea of it not being just words for a bloody change.
I can’t remember who said it, but “Writing about music is like dancing about architecture” feels like that kind of vibe…reductive, kind of missing the point when you use just words…
It was Frank Zappa I think. I don’t know. I think that some musicians would like that to be the case, because then it’s all mysterious and magical. I’m a bit more practical than that. Personally, I think we can talk about music and I think we can gain quite a lot of understanding. Otherwise why do we do it? Why do we enjoy it so much? I definitely learn things from talking about music. Ultimately you can talk about your experience, but it’s also affecting you on an abstract level. It affects you when you’re talking about it with people and connecting over music, but I think it might sound a bit exclusive, saying that. I’m just not into exclusivity. I don’t think what I do is so grand. Well, I don’t save people’s lives.
It depends how you look at the impact of music I think – on joy, on quality of life, on our sense of connection. It can be a real lifeline, can’t it? Music?
Yeah, and it helps people form connections that can save your life. That we could say. Yes. But I don’t think that makes me a magician.
I think maybe we recognize other people’s magic, I guess, but not necessarily your own.
Yeah. And I love the fact that you’re moved by that line in (me x u). I love that line – it tickles me pink. There isn’t a single word in my lyrics that doesn’t tickle me pink.
How long does it take to do that then, to be absolutely comfortable with all of the of lyrics that you’ve written?
I might have a song, and there’s 2 notes in it that bother me, and I won’t be comfortable until those 2 notes are replaced with the ones that make me think “Oh, that’s it!”. Sometimes you might have a song for years, and you don’t finish it until you have a certain experience that informs and completes your idea or just completes that idea enough to write about it and offer it up for other people to engage with.
I think sometimes it’s easier to understand the process of creating music if you talk about making art, because I think we’re very much visual as human beings. As an artist, you might be looking at that shitty green you’ve painted, and you’re thinking “It’s not right!”. You’re not going to exhibit it until you’ve decided which colour is going to work better. So sometimes it’s easier to think about music creation in those terms.
Yeah – I like to make art, and I very often throw things away because it feels wrong and I know I can’t save it. And you tell that to people that don’t paint, and they’re like “but you spent so long on it”. Sometimes you explore an idea but it’s not right, and you give it up. You know you’ve learned something, but that particular artwork, it’s gone.
I would say nothing is wasted. Just the act of trying and throwing it away, that informed your practice. It helped you work out what forms you like, what colours, what media! Nothing’s ever wasted. If an idea has legs, it will come back. I can’t be doing with things that make you “sticky”, with trying to hang onto stuff. I want to be as light as possible. I used to have a notebook by my bed, but it just felt heavy; heavy and sticky. I want to be free. I think that’s partly why I tend to be able to be happy enough most of the time.
Obviously things happen, don’t they? And just plunge you into deep despair. And that’s all good. It’s all part of things… but just feeling as light as possible…it’s not even lightness, that’s not it. It’s just not being sticky. I just don’t like things that feel heavy in my bag. I do tend to take a notebook out with me if I’m traveling on a train, for instance. I’ve got to take a notebook because not doing that would just be stupid when I have time to write and think, but I’m not addicted to it. I’m not addicted to making music. I’m not addicted to myself.
So what does drive you to make music?
It makes me feel happy.
That’s a brilliant reason.
I don’t think what I’ve got to say is really important. I don’t think I’ve got anything more interesting to say than anybody else particularly. But I just love it. It’s like doing puzzles. It just really tickles me. Well, sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes it’s a bit more challenging.
I’m writing a song at the moment that’s been a little bit difficult. There’s only one lot of words because in one verse I said absolutely everything I need to say. The rest of the song goes on to communicate residual feelings. There’s a lot of sadness in it, but there’s also a lot of freedom. It’s about letting go of something, and it’s hard sometimes, isn’t it, to let go? I feel as if sometimes human beings are very good at giving things another go, trying again, wondering if they’ve done everything they can to make something work. Especially in relationships. And sometimes you’ve just got to go “I’m out. It’s done”. But sometimes you can just change your view. Like with pain for instance, you can relate to and react differently to pain, to be able to manage it.
I guess that’s a different view of freedom – understanding if you can change something, making it into something you can deal with, to feel free.
I can change the way I look at things, and that’s why I have. You talk to any of my friends, they would say I don’t suffer in silence. I very rarely solve a problem on my own. I just don’t believe in it. Not that I don’t trust myself. Ultimately, I will make the decision about what I’m going to do. But I consult like mad. I’m a serial consulter.
What are you trying to discover by doing that?
Well, if you had the option to look at things through lots of different lenses, I would take that opportunity every time. I’m interested because I’m used to looking through my lens. I like to look through someone else’s, to gain a different perspective. We might be looking at what physically appears to be the same thing. But your view is informed by all the experiences you bring to it. And I think I’m not overly interested in myself, either, not in a horrible, negative way. But I think when I was younger, I had a lot to work out. I was quite interested in myself and my workings. Now I know a lot more about myself I’m much more interested in you and your workings.
When I was in therapy, I wrote a poem; it was a realisation that I didn’t need the glasses I was wearing…”I’ve been looking through these glasses for years and they’re not even mine!” The poem’s called Dirty Lens because I can’t see properly through them. When I take my glasses off and I’m rubbing them on my jumper, it’s then I realise they’re not even dirty, they’re just not mine: they’re not my prescription so I can’t see through them properly. All that time!
If you’ve got good people around you that are on your side, it’s worth asking them how they see you with their lenses, whether they wear spectacles or not. I think it’s the same with music, hearing what other people would do with your music. I could write everything in a song, and sometimes I do, but I’d kind of rather not. I go as far as I want to go, or I’ll go as far as I can sometimes, and I think to myself… “Well, my contribution to this song is finished, but I’d quite like some keyboards on it, and I haven’t written any, or I’d like some guitar on it, and I haven’t written any, or I can’t think of a drum beat, and that doesn’t mean I don’t want a drumbeat”. So then I go to someone else. And sometimes it’s really surprising what they bring – it’s actually just a (musical) conversation.
With everything on Cheerleaders, I wrote the song and the structure on the bass, and the 3 main vocal lines. And as a band, we could go out and do that, with just bass and 3 parts. Just perform the kernel. And then it’s fun to work with people, isn’t it? And I really love what Chip (Cummins) comes up with. I’ve explained his contribution as similar to making a really great roast dinner, then he’ll come along and do the best Yorkshire pudding. And everyone’s saying “the Yorkshire puddings were amazing!”.
I’m really intrigued that you say you write everything with the bass?
I just think any instrument can be absolutely anything, can’t it? I’m not a rule follower. I’m not rules-based. I’ve got a bass, and I can play it. That’s the main reason I start with the bass.
Like a mastery thing. An unconscious competence, you don’t have to think about it. It allows the creativity out, because you can do it without thinking about the process?
Yeah. And for some reason, my fingers work on it. There’s nothing more profound about it than that. For some reason I can do my thing on a bass guitar. And for some reason, Chip can play anything you put in front of him. And for some reason I’ve got the physical workings to be able to sing.
Sing AND play the bass. I wonder how do you do it? How do you do both at the same time. And what drew you to the bass in the first place? It sounds like, well, your kind of “spiritual” instrument.
Well, the first band I was in, we didn’t have a bass player, and we didn’t have a bass, so I got one.
Oh really? That’s such a common “bassist origin story”. Makes me quite sad for the bass tbh.
Yeah. Well we wanted it to be a 3 piece, you see. But I did see a guitar I really liked. And then when I got it, and I felt my fingers on the fret board, I was instantly “I LOVE it!”. It was a Guild bass. It was knacked, it had a hill in the middle of it that you had to navigate. Now I have my Mustang I’m deeply connected to that guitar. My friends all clubbed together and got me it for my 50th birthday. So it’s just a beautiful thing. And I love the way Ruth Goller plays hers. I started looking at Fender Mustangs because she was playing a Fender Mustang.
I went through a little big girl love for Ruth Goller when I first discovered her through Led Bib. I was introduced to those jazz musicians, I\was in an area that I’d never been to before, and seeing Ruth Goller perform live, it confirmed to me that you can do whatever you want on a bass guitar.
And how on earth do you sing and play bass at the same time…
Well, it starts to be hard to do them separately. They make sense of one another. The difficulty comes when occasionally I’ll record something and I haven’t finished writing the melody, and I need to add it later. That means I’ve got to learn it, and it’s really hard when it hasn’t come from the same place as the rest of the song. That’s the only time it feels remotely complicated. Generally I just sit and play and ideas come, and I’m just singing along. It’s all part of the same thing – it’s all weaving together, unfolding… And I don’t know anything about counting. I don’t know how you break up the spaces in the music… Even in Lost Crowns (a genuine Cardiacs-related supergroup with members from Stars In Battledress, Knifeworld, North Sea Radio Orchestra, William D Drake band, Prescott & Scritti Politti) I would think “everybody’s counting. I can’t do that in my head. I’ll just forget what number we are on”. It’s more “that little bit there…I come in there…”.
Oooo yeah, leaning into the musicality…
I do think it would be so much easier if I did know a little bit more music theory. I have learned a lot since I started writing again, about 4 years ago, maybe more? I did a 2 day masterclass with David Brewis last summer which was awesome. I did absorb a lot, but it felt like I was still processing it for weeks.
So, I’ve got a question from Laura (Holmes, creator of Buds & Spawn) about the Lake of Puppies EP. It was recorded in the mid-nineties, but it wasn’t released until recently. What led to it finally being released, and how much culpability do you have for the lyrics of the Donkey Song.
On the 2nd part – it’s funny because I was thinking about that recently – I was singing it to myself. Bill wrote all of those lyrics.
But we were working incredibly closely together, and we were so close as friends, and we trusted one another with intimate things. When we were doing that music, we were just moved by one another’s contributions. There was a lot of catharsis when we did that, it was insane. It couldn’t have gone on without steadying out, because it was very intense. It didn’t feel too heavy at the time, but it ended really quickly.
I definitely influenced Bill, and he influenced me, but he was the master of that ship. I was just amazed. I’ve been thinking “you were so punching above your weight” but then, I like to punch above my weight. It’s how you learn, and I like going feet first. I like making life hard for myself, basically.
It’s brave, it demonstrates a certain amount of fearlessness.
Yeah, fearless, I’d say fearless, not brave. I don’t think it’s courage, but I can be quite fearless. If there’s an opportunity, and it’s a really great one, I’ll go for it – like when Mark Holub (drummer, bandleader, composer) approached me to do Led Bib. I could easily have said no, because at the time I was feeling quite under-confident. I was just coming out of early motherhood and stuff like that, which does take such a lot from all of you; you come out wondering “Who am I?”. But I said yes, because I’d decided a couple of weeks before that I was going to start saying yes to everything.
I can be quite fearless, and that’s not always a good thing, but I’ll take it. And it does lead to all these experiences, and some of them are not great. But I’ve generally been quite lucky, quite charmed in that way that – I’ve said yes, and I’ve gone for it, and it’s worked out.
What led to it finally getting released?
Well, it had to be released. It had to be released because – well, it had been waiting for 30 years. It was a huge relief, to feel that it was finally out.
As if it had been birthed.
“The first ever collaboration between William D. Drake, Sharron Saddington (Fortnam) and Craig Fortnam with Chin Keeler and Bernie Holden. They lived a fleeting life but it was bright enough to beam into 2024”. Lake of Puppies EP description, Bandcamp
I can create artwork for CD releases, but I wasn’t getting it right for this EP. And when Bernie (Holden, clarinet player in Lake of Puppies) died, Bill (William D Drake – keyboardist) spoke to Chin (Keeler, Lake of Puppies) at his funeral and said, “We’re going to release this music. Will you do some art for it?” And so the EP release came about from losing Bernie. It’s not out of nowhere. The time came because, periodically, for years I’ve been saying “Are we going to release this EP?”. And then there it was. Released.
It’s a catharsis. And it is a thing of beauty. But there was a large part of me that felt a huge relief. I love it though, and the artwork that KEELERTORNERO (aka collaborative artists Chin Keeler and Emma Tornero) did for it just couldn’t have been better. It’s just perfect. It’s only 4 songs, it’s this little, beautiful package. I’m very happy with it.
What was it like to have Kugelschreiber’s first album “Cheerleaders” come out (13 Sept 24) around the same time as the Lake of Puppies EP? (6 Dec 24), so far out of experiential and chronological order?
Well, they’ve both come out on my little label Wamho! – which is what my son thought I was saying when I said “wormhole”.
Lake of Puppies was supposed to come out first – that’s ERB 001. ERB is short for Einstein Rosen Bridge, the “proper” name for a wormhole. Cheerleaders is ERB 002. But Cheerleaders ended up coming out 1st. So 002 came out before 001 on a record label that’s named after a wormhole. So there we go.
A lovely bit of synchronicity
Yeah, it’s perfect.
So why Kugelschrieber? – it’s one of the only words that I remembered from O level German – it always made me smile. It’s a great sounding word.
It just makes me laugh. When I was studying German at school, you’d have your vocabulary book, and you’d fold the page in half, and on one side you’d put the German word, and on the other side of the fold you’d put the English translation. I remember getting to the word kugelschreiber. It’s a 13, 12 or 13 letters? And then you see it just means pen, which just cracked me up. I was looking at a word this big, for a word so small. And it means “sphere writer” – it’s just such a lovely, sounding word, and it comes out of your mouth so nicely. And I love a ballpoint pen. I love a Bic, I do.
Find out more about Kugelschreiber here:
https://kugelschreiber.bandcamp.com
https://www.facebook.com/kugelschreiber2023
https://www.instagram.com/kugelschreiberuk/
Sharron Fortnam will be performing live with Kugelschreiber on Saturday 25th January 2025 at the Dorothy Pax in Sheffield, accompanied by a DJ set from Adrian Bell of the Progressive Alternative radio show.
This gig is FREE ENTRY, but please come prepared to put your hands in your pockets to show your appreciation at the end.