To write Age Of Aquarius, the set-up may have been more sophisticated than back in those days, but James still works the same as he ever has, by “being a nerd”. Though heading to Saint Marthe when needed, much of the time was spent alone in his own space, disappearing into the night.
“I have very opaque curtains. Sometimes I don’t even know what time of the day it is. It’s like Las Vegas – there’s no windows, there’s no nothing. You don’t know what time it is, so you get lost and you’re in the zone.”
And James gets far into the zone. When Perturbator grew legs, he went on courses to learn about studios, about mixing and mastering (“It’s great, because now I don’t have to pay for that!”). If an idea can be picked at, he has the tools to really pick at it.
“I can spend days, weeks, doing something. It drives me mad. But I’ll tell myself, if I can spend so much time trying to perfect this one thing in this little part in a seven-minute-long track, it means that the track is worth it. Otherwise I would have thrown it in the bin.”
In all this, even as it’s got bigger and expanded onstage, James has kept Perturbator as a creative entity his own solitary thing. He’s a delight to be around, funny, too, friends with seemingly everyone we encounter around town, but you also completely get that he’s a man for whom working with others “is such a fucking hassle”.
“I kind of hated working with other people,” he admits. “I’m very bad at working with other people. So going into a rehearsal place and trying to compose with other people, even though I love them and they’re my friends and shit like that? No. If I have all these musical ideas, I just have to make them myself, without any fucking band members being like, ‘Oh no, that’s shit.’ ‘Here’s my riff.’
“I’m better to hang out with at the bar…”