
Introducing: London Plane
Though the name may lead you to think otherwise, London Plane are actually from Brooklyn, New York. We were really taken with their recent Bright Black album, so we spoke to David Mosey from the band to discover more about the band’s dark and visceral sound.
First up, could you tell us a bit about London Plane?
Think of London Plane more as a musical study of the human condition rather than a band. We’re not really a band at all. Bands do things together like coordinate outfits, take photos in front of brick walls or on railroad tracks, then go make songs about their feelings. We got together over the course of a few months to make an album about what was going on around us – the rise of villains in American politics, isolation, loss, the need for escapism and the rejection of despair. There were no inward looks. There was no ego, no me-first indulgence. Then the pandemic struck, and we never really saw one another again.
How did you all meet and come to play together?
I met the other members of London Plane over the course of many years. Most of us come from very different musical backgrounds which is why it seemed a worthy experiment to get together to see if we could find some synergy, approach building songs that would become something rather unique given our lack of commonality. And I think it worked. I didn’t have any songs ready and that was the point. We wrote them together, quickly, while the spirit moved us, each one of us inspiring the next to contribute something slightly outside of their comfort zone.
What motivates you and inspires your music and aesthetic?
The aesthetic is New York City. It’s anti-fascism, anti-hate, anti-Republicanism, anti-fear and despair, and pro-acceptance, pro-tolerance, pro-kindness, and pro-science. The fight for all that is what inspires us.
What musical references does the band draw on? There’s definitely a hint of cult acts like Soft Kill, Shriekback, and The Associates to my ear.
We didn’t really draw on any influences directly but given the message that we intended to send, the angular, barbed sound that is often associated with post-punk probably makes some sense if you seek to pin us on a genre map. Bowie has always been the center of gravity for my musical experience with everything else coming off of him like spokes on a wheel. And I didn’t actually even discover Shriekback until after the album was written, but Barry Andrews and the boys are brilliant. I bought a couple of Shriekback albums today, as a matter of fact.
How does the creative process work within the band?
We actually had a very specific process, usually starting with a shot of pretty decent tequila. I would pop on three or four seconds of a song that I thought might inform the song-writing process for the evening. We weren’t trying to replicate the cut that I was playing, mind you, but rather harness the energy. If the song is good, its emotional core will be translated within a very short amount of time. So I’d play four seconds of an Iggy Pop song or a Kate Bush song or the Clash or Miles Davis or reggae artists like Linton Kwesi Johnson, and it would put all of us on an emotional plane of sorts. Usually Grant Parker, the bass player, and Bryan Garbe, the drummer would start playing something angular and cool, then the rest of us would join in. If it didn’t feel immediately inspired and dangerous, we’d leave it and start again.
What bands or musicians do you have on heavy rotation right now?
I really love the new Sparks album – A Steady Drip, Drip, Drip it’s called. It’s a good summertime album. And tropicalia records are always on the turntable. That music is a good foil for the dark times we’re living in. And sometimes classical music is more dangerous than the most punk of punk rock. Prokofiev’s second piano concerto makes me want to keep making music. Of contemporary bands, I like Sleaford Mods. Also my friend and sometimes London Planer Oweinama Biu, who goes by the name Calamity Glamour, made a killer record this year called Ennui in Luxury.
If you could support anyone, who would it be?
Elvis.
Do you have one piece of advice for anyone starting to make music?
It’s not art and therefore probably not worth doing unless you’re going to put your own spin on it. I think it’s important to challenge oneself, make yourself slightly uncomfortable. The results will be more exciting if you allow yourself to try something that feels a bit risky. Pop music, by and large, is not risky, and most of it lacks a shred of individuality or experimentation, so I would exclude it from the conversation if we’re talking about music as an artform.
Is there a story behind the lyrics of recent single Come Out of the Dark?
It was a bit prophetic, I guess, as I wrote it before the pandemic, but it certainly lends itself to the feeling of isolation many of us were feeling during those stifling months and years. It asks the listener to reject despair, to elevate oneself, to rise to the occasion, to fight. I wrote it during the Trump administration, and I think I was remembering the faces of women on the subway the day after the 2016 election, justifiably sullen and morose.
What’s up next for London Plane after the release of Bright Black? Any new music, gigs lined up, videos?
I think we’ll probably regroup now that the world has opened up again and see if there’s any interest in a few shows. I hope what we’ve produced together is beginning to resonate. Bright Black was made with a lot of love, love for one another, love of the creative process, and for love of a democracy, a philosophy, a way of life that is being threatened. But the album is not for us anymore. It’s for you, the audience, and we sincerely hope that you find meaning in it. Equally important, we hope that you dance.
You can purchase and stream Bright Black on Bandcamp and all major online retailers – click here for further details. You can also listen to the LP on Apple Music and Spotify. If you’d like to know more about London Plane, head over to the Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook pages.
Photo by Alice Teeple











