“My recent work is about the potential for transformation, finding or creating a space for that to take place.“
As Pefkin, Gayle Brogan crafts slow-burning, devotional soundscapes that feel less composed than conjured – ritualistic folk hymns steeped in the rhythms of landscape and seasonal shift. Also known for her work in Burd Ellen, Greenshank, and Meadowsilver, Brogan’s solo output exists in a more liminal space, where drone, voice, and texture dissolve into something elemental.
Her latest album, The Rescoring, was written in the autumn of 2023, as she prepared to uproot from Glasgow to Sheffield. Its three longform pieces map the psychic and physical contours of change. Working with a deliberately restricted toolkit – synth, voice, and viola, an instrument she had never played before – Brogan embraced immediacy, layering each track in a single take.
Each composition functions as a kind of sonic sigil: one piece reflects on the land she left behind, another on the place she was moving to, and the final track, Change, contemplates transformation itself. The result is a record that doesn’t just document transition but enacts it, lingering in the fertile instability between past and future.
What drew you to the viola as an instrument for this album, especially as it was your first time playing it?
I can answer that in two words – John Cale. I’ve played violin since I was 7 but always focused on the lower end of that instrument, and more recently manipulating that sound by pitch-shifting it down. It’s obviously similar to play but you need to extend your fingers more. I love all the scratch and scrape sounds, and the viola just does it better. I suspect cello does it even better but that’s more of a workout for the fingers and wouldn’t fit in my car!.
Can you elaborate on how the landscapes of Glasgow and Sheffield influenced the distinct pieces on The Rescoring?
I actually lived 30 minutes away from Glasgow so it’s the landscape of rural Ayrshire that I write about. “Gossip in the Leaves” is about the rookery at Spiers’ Wood in Beith and the shift in the season from late summer to autumn when the rookery is suddenly deserted. It was part of my routine to walk the road that ran through it and one of my only remaining pleasures in living there in the last year. “Within Its Branching Arms” is about the ancient yew in the churchyard at Monyash. It is vast! The gravestones now lie sheltered within its branches and I suspect the roots are pulling the bodies into the tree now. It’s a truly magical spot. I wrote it as a meditation on where I wanted to be as a way of dreaming the move into reality when I was feeling deeply unhappy about being stuck in Scotland. “The Rescoring” itself is less rooted in a specific place.
The concept of transformation is central to this album. How did your personal life changes shape the creative process?
I’d been spending a lot of time in Sheffield between summer 2022 and spring 2023, then due to my work had to return to Scotland and spend most of my time back there again. The period of 6 months until October 2023 when I moved to Sheffield was spent trying to make a dream into reality so that longing for change naturally transferred to the creative process.
Themes like the tideline, sacred yew trees, and woodland edges are woven into the album. What significance do these natural elements hold for you personally or creatively?
The answer to this question goes hand-in-hand with the previous one. The tideline and woodland edges are all places of change. The specific woodland of “Gossip in the Leaves” sits on the edge of town and the rookery forms a sort of archway that you pass through and always felt like a threshold. I frequently felt a change passing under it.
I’m really drawn to these areas and find reassurance in places that have an uncertainty or unfixedness to them. A lot of my recent work is about the potential for transformation, finding or creating a space for that to take place.
Talk Talk’s Mark Hollis once said that he wasn’t that interested in the meaning behind his lyrics, but that his voice simply served as another textural instrument. Would you say that’s something that applies to your own work?
I had a lightbulb moment a few years ago that my lyrics just needed to have a general sense but the feel and sound of the words and syllables were more important. Live I like to manipulate my vocals with pitch shifting and granular effects and treat it as another layer within the sound. I frequently use non-traditional vocal sounds live as well to create different textures. Words themselves don’t move me but the emotion in a voice does.
I love Mark Hollis by the way.
How did you achieve the incredible background texture on Gossip In The Leaves? It sounds halfway between rain and fire…
That sound is rain, recorded from within a birch woodland in the Highlands. It’s a really gentle sound but does sound like fire. I love making field recordings. I’ve a couple of amazing recordings of an up-close Emperor Moth which is on the last Burd Ellen album and a whelk in a rock pool which is on the Greenshank album I did with Jonathan Sharp.
Did the process of recording each layer of the tracks in a single take reveal anything surprising about your relationship with your craft?
I’d used a similar process for “The Land is a Sea in Waiting”, though out of necessity as I had restricted access to studio space to record at the time (Covid times). I’d really lacked confidence in my musical ability for a long time so it was a surprise to me that I actually had some competence!
Your music often blurs the lines between soundscape and song. How do you decide when a piece feels complete, especially given the organic themes you explore?
Sometimes I create the piece as a soundscape and then find space for a vocal melody within that, or like with “Gossip in the Leaves” add it at the end. Sometimes I create a drone and have a very clear idea for a song, then build layers around that. I usually keep adding layers until I reach an impasse, then leave it for a few days, return and usually take a few layers off before going into mixing mode which is a fairly intense stage.
I love dense soundscapes and listen to a lot of instrumental music but with my own work it feels important to me to have some form of song at the heart of a piece.
Do you tend to listen back to music you’ve released? And if so, how does your relationship change with it once you’re no longer involved in its creation?
Once I’ve finished a track, I enjoy listening back to it. I still marvel at being able to create a piece of music and the magic involved in bringing sounds and structure out of nowhere. I often understand what the piece is about more fully once it’s finished, often much, much further down the line, as I rarely have a concept at the outset of recording.
What can we expect from you this year? Are you currently working on any new projects?
I’m aiming to focus on Pefkin as much as possible which I’ve struggled to do in recent years due to competing priorities. I am reissuing “The Light Bends Inwards” which came out in very limited numbers a couple of years ago. I have a collaboration album on bird folklore with Alison O’Donnell coming out on Sonido Polifonico.
I’m writing and recording a new Pefkin album as well as working on a new Meadowsilver album. I’m also busy co-curating a series of gigs with my partner Paul at a Tudor House in Sheffield.
The Rescoring is out now on all platforms.
The Predatory Wasp 