Paradox One | Interview | Phil Jackson

Phil Jackson’s Paradox One is a captivating project defined by creative exploration and sonic experimentation. Launched in 2000, it initially graced the world with four albums under the influential label Neurosis, helmed by Ohio guitarist Rick Ray, before 2004 marked a brief hiatus.

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Jackson’s musical roots are steeped in the sounds of his youth, drawing inspiration from legendary bands like Procol Harum, Van der Graaf Generator, and Egg. His journey began in Dundee, where his passion for music ignited at his first concert, a mesmerizing performance by The Nice at the Caird Hall. After stepping away from the stage for several years, Jackson rediscovered his artistic voice in the 1990s, immersing himself in a home studio and collaborating with a diverse array of musicians.

Continuing to evolve his sound, Jackson embraced the freedom of private releases, culminating in the critically acclaimed 2015 album ‘This Fragile Peace,’ a collaborative effort with Tim Jones and members of the beloved Census of Hallucinations. Beyond his musical endeavors, Jackson has become an integral part of the music community, dedicating over 25 years to writing insightful reviews and articles for Acid Dragon magazine and curating content on his website, Dimensions in Sound and Space. 

“Everything I do tends to be unconventional”

What are your earliest memories of music? Was there a specific moment in your childhood when you realized that music would play a central role in your life?

Phil Jackson: An interesting question, Klemen. Yes, it would be my brother Jack, with whom I used to listen to the latest chart hits on a Saturday morning radio show when I was very young. Jack was a massive Elvis fan, but he also let me hear three albums on the family stereogram: Blood, Sweat & Tears’ eponymous second album, Dvorak’s ‘New World,’ and Holst’s ‘The Planets.’ My dad, also Jack, was a drummer in the dance halls in Dundee, and he used to listen to an album by Roy Fox and his Orchestra—I still have a copy to this day!

Growing up in Dundee, how did the local environment influence your musical tastes and aspirations? Were there any particular sounds, places, or experiences that shaped your early interest in music?

Dundee has changed a lot since I grew up there—they now have a V&A museum, and the university population has quadrupled. However, back then, I used to go around to my friend Doug’s house to listen to music. We spent a lot of time on the Magdalene Green, overlooking the historic Tay railway bridge, which tragically blew down in 1879, resulting in many deaths—the Tay Bridge Disaster. We would also hang out in the Sea Braes overlooking the Tay before going to the university on weekends; the jukebox was a special attraction with amazing records by the likes of Genesis and even Hatfield and the North. There were quite a few record shops as well, and before I went to university, I used to save up my pocket money to buy records. I remember being on a bus on my way home from the city center, clutching a copy of Procol Harum’s ‘A Salty Dog,’ not quite knowing what to expect—my life changed at that moment, and I became a massive Procol fan, more of which later. The Caird Hall was also a big factor in my interest in rock music, as it used to host all the top bands.

You’ve mentioned that seeing The Nice as a boy was a defining moment for you. Can you describe that experience in detail? How did it affect your perception of what music could be?

My recollections are hazy, although because I have an episodic memory, I can recall almost exactly where I was standing, looking down on Keith Emerson “riding” and sticking knives into his organ at the left of the stage. I would see Emerson, Lake & Palmer three times in total, including their last concert in London. However, I always had a “soft spot” for The Nice and saved up to buy all their albums: ‘Ars Longa Vita Brevis’ and ‘The Nice’ were on regular rotation on my record player. I cut out a picture of Emerson from the long-defunct Sounds music paper and stuck it on the wall, but I could never hope to reach anywhere near his natural ability, so I took it down before long! I was listening very carefully, though, to Keith and the many other brilliant keyboard players that were around at the dawn of progressive rock.

Hearing Van Der Graaf Generator’s ‘Darkness 11/11’ on Top Gear was another pivotal moment for you. What was it about that track that resonated so deeply with you? Did it change your approach to creating or understanding music?

I didn’t start writing anything much until my university band, more of which later. What resonated was that I had never heard anything like it! When VDGG came to the Caird Hall to headline the famous Charisma budget-priced tour, I think I was first in the queue and in a center front seat! Genesis was in support, and I remember Peter Gabriel seeming to glower in our direction, maybe because we had come to see Peter Hammill and co. and hadn’t gotten into Genesis yet. (I now have all their early albums as well as all of VDGG’s!) I didn’t realize at the time what a historic event I had just witnessed! The lyrics in VDGG’s music were unlike anything I had heard, and so atmospheric. Their albums have stood the test of time. I’m not conscious of anything in particular that I assimilated into my own music except the inspiration to make music, and it certainly increased the depth of my understanding of what was possible.

You’ve cited Procol Harum and Camel as major influences. What is it about their music that you connected with? Do you see echoes of their work in your own compositions?

What I discovered about Procol Harum was that they are actually an albums band who happened to write some great hit singles, whereas a lot of people just associate them with ‘A Whiter Shade of Pale.’ For instance, ‘Repent Walpurgis,’ an instrumental that closed their first album, features a Robin Trower guitar solo that still makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up! Their sound was very different from any other band, and their lyricist Keith Reid provided a unique, almost Gothic quality to the music; there has never been anything like it then or since. The combination of Gary Brooker’s piano and Matthew Fisher’s organ also made them stand out, and B.J. Wilson was a fantastic drummer who died much too young. I bought all of their albums, but I suppose if I had to pick a couple of them for the desert island, it would have to be ‘A Salty Dog’ (‘Pilgrim’s Progress’ is a particular favorite) and ‘Home,’ which is such a great album (Who else was writing acerbic, graphic lyrics as in the song ‘Still There’ll be More’?). I was also honored to interview Gary Brooker by telephone before he sadly passed away. He was an absolute gentleman and complimented me on my knowledge of the band, which made me very proud. Luckily, I was able to see them perform in the Queen’s Hall in Edinburgh in 2017.

As for Camel, I took a chance and spent some of my limited funds on their first album: the song ‘Never Let Go’ totally blew me away – still does! Then, as it happens, a few friends went down to London to seek employment during our summer break from Dundee University, and I ended up working in a loading bay at Biba’s department store on Kensington High Street for three months! I took in deliveries of records and walked through the famous Rainbow Room where many bands played. I also saved up enough money to buy my first keyboard: a Farfisa organ with a reverb spring underneath – not quite Keith Emerson, but hey ho! Anyway, the aforementioned Doug and I went to see them play on two successive weekends at the Twickenham Winning Post and the Greyhound in Croydon. In one of the venues, we had to sit on the floor! Their Mirage album totally blew us away, and the band we formed on returning to Dundee (Banshee) adopted ‘Freefall’ from that album into our live act. I did see them play live after that as well, but those two gigs really fired my imagination at the time.

Can you walk us through the experience of seeing Procol Harum live with Jethro Tull? How did those performances influence your musical direction?

The Caird Hall in Dundee is a 2000-seater that once attracted all the top bands, and I did see Procol on the same bill as Jethro Tull. I seem to remember them playing in the center of the hall, which was unprecedented in the hundreds of concerts I must have attended in the venue. I wish I could remember more, but to tell you the truth, I was not a big Tull fan at the time. I had a very limited amount of money to spend on records, but I grew to adore their ‘Stand Up’ album, and the song ‘We Used to Know’ in particular. I saw them play recently in the Glasgow Concert Hall, and that was the song they played from the album – I was on my feet before even realizing it! I don’t think Tull influenced my own music much, although they did embrace the music of J.S. Bach, just like Procol Harum. I have mostly worked solo on music and never had the opportunity to work with a vocalist, which is a pity because I loved Keith Reid’s twisted lyrics and would certainly have liked to have had someone to bounce ideas off!

Your first forays into creating music must have been exciting and experimental. What can you tell us about your earliest bands or projects before Paradox One? How did those experiences shape your approach to music later on?

Ah, yes! Musical instruments were very expensive to buy in those days. Doug was studying electronic engineering at university and built a synth for me to play on stage. It was temperamental, to say the least! However, it did provide a unique feature to a local band. We were quite experimental, I suppose, and wrote most of our own stuff. I kept a detailed diary of every single gig we played. The very first was a late-night “rave-up” in the Dundee University Students’ Union. I wrote, “Despite the expected technical hitch or two – usually the temperamental “Orion” synthesizer – the gig went well.” We played again at the University, but the next gig after that would not come for six months, by which time we were on the books of an entertainment agency. It was in the Lion Club, H.M.S Rosyth, at a time when fifteen boats had just come ashore – not the ideal venue for an aspiring prog rock band! We had written some new numbers by then and had recruited our “savior,” a very talented local guitarist, John Singers, who had a Fender Strat and whose playing and singing allowed us to play numbers like Deep Purple’s ‘Child in Time’ and ‘You Fool No One,’ ‘All Along the Watchtower,’ Atomic Rooster’s ‘Tomorrow Night,’ ‘Honky Tonk Women,’ Rory Gallagher’s ‘Hands Off,’ a Yes medley, and to finish, Status Quo’s ‘Down the Dustpipe’ and a rock ‘n’ roll medley to give the by-now inebriated sailors a chance for a dance! We were on to our third drummer by then! I am thinking about writing a book about it all one day! After 13 gigs, we were no more, with no surviving recordings, and I wouldn’t return to making music until much later.

How did the formation of Paradox One come about? What was the catalyst for starting this particular project in 2000, and how did it differ from your earlier musical endeavors?

I was reading a lot of science fiction at the time, especially by Robert Sheckley (I have just written and published a book about him, as it happens) and wrote some pieces based on the characters and ideas in his speculative writing. When I bought a keyboard again, these provided a catalyst for writing some music. The other main inspiration was Robert Silverberg’s The World Inside, which formed the basis for a long piece entitled ‘Urbmon 116’. I had also started reviewing music for Acid Dragon magazine at that time, and Ohio guitarist Rick Ray would send me CDs of his band. I sent him my first CD, ‘Reality Quake,’ and Rick released this and my next three on his own Neurosis label. He used to sell them at his gigs, and a $5 note arrived one day marking the first sale! It got positive reviews and a lot of radio play. It may not have been expertly produced, but it connected with a lot of people, including a guy called Don Williams in New Zealand who was so generous with his encouragement; unfortunately, I have lost contact with him. I suppose there were seeds of some of my early compositions for ‘Banshee’ at work, but I wouldn’t say there was much connection at all.

How did you come to collaborate with the musicians from Census of Hallucinations? What was it like to blend your vision with theirs on ‘This Fragile Peace’?

It’s a similar story to the one about Rick Ray. I was getting sent CDs from the Stone Premonitions label for review and discovered that Tim Jones and I had been to see the same gig in Dundee: Egg supporting The Groundhogs (Egg is a major influence on my way of thinking about constructing music), quite a coincidence! Anyway, I was honored to compile the Stone Premonitions 10th anniversary double CD, and my music used to get played on Alchemical Radio run by Stone Premonitions, so there was mutual encouragement and respect there. Eventually, I came up with an idea about making music from the “ground” up, meaning starting with some bass and drum tracks (played by Paddi and Tim in this case), and ‘This Fragile Peace’ was the outcome. The way the press release described it was: “additional bridges, John Simm’s glorious guitar, Maxine Martine’s gracious vocals, and Tim Jones’ musical engineering transformed Phil’s original ideas into an ambitious and coherent work.” Remembering John Simms as the guitarist with Clear Blue Sky on their 1970 album for Vertigo and knowing that he had played with Ginger Baker and many others, I was totally blown away by John’s involvement in the project, and by Maxine’s YouTube video of the track ‘Waiting at Airports,’ which was based on a poem by one of my friends and collaborators from Dundee, Richard Gorman, whose music, like Paradox One’s and Census of Hallucinations’, can be heard on Bandcamp. As it happens, I am in the process of trying to repeat the experience of working from the rhythm section up in my latest project, my first for quite a few years!

Your music has often been described as a blend of space rock and progressive electronic. What drives your creative process when you’re composing? Do you start with a concept, a sound, or something else entirely?

I think that is a fair enough description. Basically, I just sit down at a keyboard or pick up an acoustic guitar, mostly the former, and ideas just seem to come. As I have touched on already, concepts such as stories (not just sci-fi ones) and the state of the world inspire me to write. The sound is very important. I guess like many others I work my way through the possibilities among the sounds a keyboard has to offer, then make a list of the ones that are best suited to the music I have in mind. One thing I would say is that getting from an idea to a completed album can be a long and tortuous process. I appreciate this very much as a reviewer; sometimes people can be a bit too critical or not prepared to take the time to listen to the messages within the music. It is great fun, but a lot of hard work as well, with more promising ideas discarded than those that appear on the finished CD!

The album ‘This Fragile Peace’ has been praised for its atmospheric depth. Can you share some insights into the inspiration and creation of this album? What themes or ideas were you exploring?

Tim Jones summed it up succinctly in the press release: “Thematically, the music is intended to convey the dislocation people often feel as they try to understand and come to terms with Earthly evils that threaten our humanity: depression, war, inequality, mediocrity, the manipulation of the masses, and the manic pace of modern life.”

You’ve worked across various genres and projects. How do you maintain your creative flow? Do you have any rituals or practices that help you stay inspired and focused?

I have to admit I am rather lazy about making music. I tend to get impatient to complete pieces. I really could do with a producer but have never had the luxury of studio time simply because I would need to have a band and have not succeeded in finding like-minded musicians locally, except for the aforementioned Richard Gorman (who does record in a studio). The flip side of that is maintaining artistic control. I am looking forward to collaborating again with Tim Jones, as hopefully, the experience will keep me on track, and something may come out of it—who knows?

Your compilation ‘Reality Quake / Dimension of Miracles’ brought early composed songs to new audiences. What was it like revisiting and re-releasing those tracks? Did they take on new meanings for you?

You are referring to the music that is still on Bandcamp, and there is also a recent compilation, ‘Dimensions of Paradox One,’ which condenses the history into one CD. I hope to put this, or something like it, on Bandcamp soon, certainly in time for the 25th anniversary of the project next year. It was strange listening again: it’s as if it were someone else’s music, and I listened with a more critical ear, I think, as part of the process of deciding what to include on the compilation! I was reassured that, in general terms, the music still stood up, at least in my mind, well after all those years, but of course, at other times, I thought—maybe I should have done this or that. I also tried not to be too hard on myself, as I was working alone most of the time, and it was a big learning process for me. I had tried working through MIDI, which would have ironed out the occasional rough edges, but have always recorded “organically,” mostly through a 16-track Roland VS-1880, which is a fantastic machine (although I believe the first two albums were recorded on a predecessor 8-track using zip discs!).

Looking back, what do you consider to be your most important or personally significant release? What makes that work stand out in your mind?

All things considered, I am especially happy with the first two albums; if I had to choose one, it would certainly be the first, ‘Reality Quake,’ but there are other pieces from the ones that came later that I intend to return to. It stands out because it has a strong thematic base, flows well, and got positive reviews that encouraged me to continue doing my own music.

What role does experimentation play in your music? How do you balance pushing the boundaries of your sound with maintaining a cohesive identity for Paradox One?

As I have gotten older, I have listened to more and more jazz, even to the extent of writing numerous jazz biographies for a major new book by the famous rock discographer Martin C. Strong. It’s called The Great Rock Bible (and yes, it does cover jazz as well!). I was always a big fan of Brian Auger, Bruford, and various jazz-rock fusion artists, and I love the way jazz players take a “standard” and play around with it, so, yes, I am very much into experimentation and freedom of expression without rigidly defined limits. Perhaps as a result, I would say that the Paradox One music did not have as cohesive an identity as it had in the early albums just referred to, and it started to embrace a variety of styles.

What was the music scene like when you first started, particularly in the progressive and electronic genres? How has it evolved over the years, and where do you see it heading?

Back then, it was flourishing; there were so many labels willing to take chances with artists. The boundaries seemed unlimited, the opportunities endless. I couldn’t even begin to describe it. I don’t think rock/pop music has evolved since then; mutated might be a better description, but that’s not to say there haven’t been, and still are, some truly innovative artists. Apart from jazz perhaps, where there has been an evolution of sorts, incorporating other genres. “Popular” music in its broadest sense has now been contained to cater to the growing influence of the internet, corporate interests, and monetarist economics. Again, there are cottage industries, but few have the exposure they deserve or would have gotten in the seventies, in particular. Of course, you don’t need to have a label behind you to buy you studio time—you can do it all at home nowadays. As I said before, this is all very well, but perhaps without studio producers and engineers, exposure, and backing, it is more difficult to stand out from the crowd, and therefore the music and the messages behind it only reach a limited audience. Would The Beatles have sounded the same without George Martin? If I were to pick “classic” progressive rock albums, for example, most of them would come from the 1970s, which is not to say there aren’t classics appearing occasionally. As for “pop” music—well! Quite frankly, I don’t see it getting any better, and yet, given the state the world’s in, we need our musicians to stand up and be counted.

You’ve written for various music magazines, like Acid Dragon. How has your experience as a writer and critic influenced your own music? Do you find it challenging to balance those perspectives?

Of course, there is a certain amount of subjectivity in reviewing music. It depends on your own listening experience and personal tastes: the broader these are, the more objective you can be, I think. The way I approach reviewing is to appreciate that a lot of thought and effort is put into most of the music I get sent to review, and I respect that. I am not expecting perfection or anything approaching the halcyon days of the sixties and seventies. But I still get a lot of pleasure from these “labours of love,” and maybe the fact that very few people make any money out of it anymore is a good thing. Most of the music I hear is honest and authentic, and I am pleased that progressive rock in particular has undergone such a renaissance. A lot of the bands I review would certainly have gotten a recording contract back in the day, for sheer musical ability as well as the ideas and arrangements they come up with in their own time. As far as my own music goes, I don’t think one really affects the other except for pushing me on to try to achieve something better.

The progressive rock scene has always had a strong sense of community. Can you speak to any particularly memorable collaborations or friendships that have shaped your journey?

Goodness, what a great question! I know that what I said about the 60s and 70s before may sound dismissive of what came after, but it was not meant in that way at all. I am sitting here leafing through a wonderful magazine called Colossus I used to review for—its editor was Marco Bernard—and another very professionally produced magazine called Mellotron, edited by Andrés Valle, in which I was named as “Corresponsal en Gran Bretaña”. Playing and reviewing opened up a world that stupid decisions like Brexit have closed. High postal costs and trade restrictions have made the world a smaller and lonelier place and Britain an isolated island. There were great times also in the late nineties and early part of the new millennium when tapes, CDs, LPs, and even letters would arrive through the post. I had more friends than ones I had actually met! I must, of course, give special mention to Thierry Sportouche, who gave me my first break in music reviewing with Acid Dragon. Thierry has become a great friend whom I have met on two occasions and played with once, in Knaresborough with guitarist/songwriter Tim Hunter, and once in the beautiful city of Lyon. He is also a great thinker and human being, which is important. The Stone Premonitions family I mentioned earlier, and I really enjoyed my brief collaboration with the Flight 09 band, whose CDs were also released on Rick Ray’s Neurosis label. I could not possibly list all these friendships, but if you are reading this, you will know who you are.

What have been some of the most fun or unconventional projects you’ve been involved in? Is there a specific experiment or collaboration that stands out as particularly enjoyable or surprising?

Everything I do tends to be unconventional! The This Fragile Peace project is an obvious choice, although it’s a shame that I didn’t actually get to meet Tim Jones until recently.

You’ve also ventured into writing, with your book Within You Without You being published in 2020. How does your approach to writing differ from making music? Do they fulfill different creative needs for you?

I am an obsessive kind of person, and I have always wanted to hear everything! So, I bought loads of music and books and researched UK and US music to fill in the gaps—the ones that got away in the past. It took me 10 years to write the book, but hardly anyone has read it despite positive reviews. In fact, I asked for it to be deleted. Ironically, I got a message from an Italian man, Antonello Dellomonaco, recently; he was desperate for a copy, as he enjoyed my writing for Acid Dragon! I am actually comprehensively rewriting it at the moment. Writing is a very different approach from making music, but the broader listening (I also contributed some Prog Rock and Jazz biographies to the aforementioned Martin C. Strong book The Great Rock Bible) definitely filters, consciously or not, into one’s own music.

With a career that spans decades, what do you hope your legacy will be in the world of music? How would you like Paradox One to be remembered?

My legacy and sense of pride come from the people who have listened and found something to appreciate in the music. However small that number is, it makes it all worthwhile. Too often nowadays, success is judged by quantity.

What are your plans for the future? Are there any upcoming projects or ideas that you’re particularly excited about?

I mentioned some writing and musical projects before, and I am looking forward to completing them.

“I couldn’t imagine a world without music”

If you could collaborate with any artist, living or deceased, who would it be and why? What kind of project would you envision working on together?

It would definitely be within “progressive” music, but I am not entirely sure who with, as my tastes and influences are so broad. This might be a good time to mention a kindred spirit, Robert Schumann. I am a very spiritual person, and for some unknown reason, I have always felt an affinity toward interpreting his music. There are examples of that in ‘Kinderscenen’ from ‘Reality Quake’ and ‘Out of the Void/From the Void’ from the recently compiled compilation. I am currently learning three lesser-known Schumann pieces that I hope to incorporate into future projects.

Beyond music, you have a strong interest in education and dyslexia tutoring. How has your teaching career influenced your life and work as a musician?

I got into teaching accidentally. When I graduated, there wasn’t the level of career guidance there is now, and once I realized I couldn’t make it as a rock musician, I tried teaching and liked it. I completed an additional degree at Moray House, Edinburgh, to gain a qualification in dyslexia, and before I retired, I tutored people of all ages through Dyslexia Scotland. It was a very satisfying way to end my career. A little story about that: The world champion racing driver Jackie Stewart was a patron of Dyslexia Scotland. I was helping a young man who had ambitions to start a business. One night, the phone rang, and it was Jackie Stewart! The man I was tutoring is now in America and doing well; I like to think that the interest shown by Jackie helped turn him around at a time when he was struggling for direction. As far as music is concerned, virtually none of my work colleagues ever knew that I was also a music maker! I liked to keep the two things apart; music was my escape.

You’ve also been deeply involved in writing and running a Doctor Who website. How did that passion start, and what role does it play in your creative life?

It is actually my son, Benedict C.T. Jackson, who set up and runs the website. I am totally responsible for his obsession with Doctor Who. It started, believe it or not, at a record fair (I used to regularly attend such fairs and ended up doing fairs and selling records myself) when one of the dealers had a pile of Doctor Who videos. Benedict commandeered them, and the rest is history. He has now completed three Doctor Who guides, and a fourth is nearing publication. They can be found on Amazon Kindle. Details can be found here. Before that, he established a website specifically for Doctor Who. As far as my music goes, there is a track called ‘Regeneration’ on which I am supported by Flight 09 on the latest Paradox One compilation. If anyone is interested in more details on that, they are welcome to contact me: phil7jackson@outlook.com.

In addition to music and writing, are there other hobbies or interests that you’re passionate about? How do they influence or complement your musical journey?

I seem to be interested in most things, including astronomy, science fiction—especially from the 50s and 60s—and football. I think we’ve covered the first part of this answer, but I would add that my wider reading has also influenced my music.

Finally, how do you see the relationship between music and life? Is music a reflection of life, a form of escape, or something else entirely for you?

Music is both for me. I couldn’t imagine a world without music, and if I didn’t manage to squeeze in a listening session or two (mostly vinyl) in addition to my reviewing, I think I would go mad!

Klemen Breznikar

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Phil Jackson Website / Bandcamp