At the age of nine, Clark played violin in an orchestra in St Albans – not that he was too keen at the time, he admits. Folk violin? Yes, he enjoyed that (although Clark’s teachers were somewhat scornful). But classical music? When there was Public Enemy, Prince or Metallica to listen to? It just felt, says Clark, kind of “inappropriate”.
And yet, a seed had been planted. One that would take a while to germinate. “I do remember thinking, ‘I’ll put this on hold for a bit and come back to it later’,” Clark recalls. In the three decades since, he has taken us on a series of intensive sonic odysseys, characterised by an unquenchable personal ambition to keep on climbing. From his 2001 debut, Clarence Park, onwards, there has been no template. You will encounter glowering techno and brittle, ghostly piano pieces; eerie, fluttering folktronics and found sounds – each time, something new, something unexpected.