When Dominic Maker and Kai Campos dropped the first Mount Kimbie EP five years ago, they instigated a paradigm shift in modern electronica. Maybes was something that came from dubstep but was certainly different. Instead of meditating on bass weight and rattling ribcages, Maybes wrapped itself in fog and a rich, gauzy texture built with chopped-up field recordings, samples and enough heavily-swung beats to get it released on Hotflush Recordings.
By the time their first full-length, Crooks & Lovers , came out, Maybes' initial glimpse of an airy, colourful post-dubstep had blossomed into a vision that combined instrumental hip-hop, ambient texture and immaculately rough-around-the-edges sound design.
Having spent most of the past three years on the road, the duo are back with another album, this time on the iconic Warp Records. While Crooks & Lovers was recorded in the pair's respective bedrooms, Cold Spring Fault Less Youth was born in their new studio, a sign perhaps of the guys moving up in the world.
The re-adjustment to studio life resulted in the pair taking longer than planned to finish the record, which increased anticipation from fans starved of fresh material. With a legendary label like Warp behind them, was there any pressure to get it done?
“We went way over our deadline but the Warp guys were always really stand-offish and just let us get on with it,” says Maker of the record’s delays. “It got to the time when we were supposed to be delivering and we felt like we were in a really, really good creative vein and we just didn’t want to stop at that point. Luckily for us, they catered for that and were quite happy to work around how we were feeling. I’m super glad they weren’t too pushy on that front because the sort of juice of the album, the core of it, really came together over the last two or three months of the writing process, and if it had been cut short, it would have been a bit of a bitch from our point of view.”
One noticeable change on Cold Spring Fault Less Youth is a stronger focus on traditional song structures and live instrumentation, mostly losing the warped, amorphous sketches of Crooks & Lovers in the process. One focal point of that shift is Archie Marshall, otherwise known as King Krule, whose distinctive voice pops up on the second track and again later on. Was it difficult to bring in another collaborator, especially one as unmistakable as Marshall?
“The thing with the way me and Kai play is that it’s quite an isolated thing and we like to keep it that way so the idea of having someone else involved was kind of daunting, because it felt like it might slow down the whole process but Archie just fitted in straight away,” says Maker.
“It was a really easy process, he only lives about five minutes from the studio anyway so he just kept coming in every now and then and scribbling on a piece of paper and singing over the top.”
Mount Kimbie, like Marshall, have long been inextricably linked with the sound of a young London. Cold Spring Fault Less Youth doesn't seem to come from such a specific place, rather it draws influence from a wider set of ideas, diversifying in a similar way to friends like The xx and former collaborator, James Blake. Having spent so little time at home over the last few years, is there a sense the pair's connection to their capital has changed? Are they less a part of the scene now?
“It goes back to this feeling of being quite isolated through the writing process and being away in the tour bubble; you don’t feel grounded in that respect,” says Maker. “I think making this record really benefited from being away from that kind of thing. We don’t necessarily feel an allegiance to anything, and I think if we did, it would definitely mar and effect the way we think of ourselves as Mount Kimbie.”
While it’s clear the last few years have been a whirlwind for the pair, the disconnection does play on Maker’s mind. The life of a successful touring musician doesn’t come without some big lifestyle changes.
“It’s been really weird doing interviews today, people keep asking what has changed in the time we’ve been away and to be honest, we’ve been in such a bubble that we have no idea,” he says. “It’s a weird feeling that you are three, three-and-a-half years older and things move so quickly in this environment. I guess only really from that I’ve realised how cut off we’ve been,” he says.
“When we came back to London to write and we were in London for more than a week at a time, you do start to think, ‘Where did the last two years go?’. But the memories are still there of what a great time we’ve had. I guess that’s the price you pay. You still see family quite a bit but you’re just living a different life to most people you know. So I haven’t seen friends that I would’ve seen every week for months and months and maybe years.”
“As time goes on, you start to lust after a bit of regularity – well I certainly do. Some regularity and a regular pattern from day to day, week to week. But once you’re out on the road again, you almost forget that straight away and slip into the adrenaline of the whole circus you’re running around with.”
