Google NotebookLM podcast “deep dive” on my AI music restoration project and the democratisation of creativity (which I hadn’t thought about).

Transcript

Digging the Lost Tapes Restoration of Grimsby's No. 1 Band in 1996

Hovercraft (UK) were a real live band, briefly, in 1995-96.

Auto-generated description: A newspaper clipping features a band called Hovercraft and discusses their upcoming appearance at a Grimsby concert.

We hovered in, made a lot of noise, broke down and sank without a trace, all in the space of nine months.

Auto-generated description: A printed page lists a Demo Top Ten of music tracks, with brief introductory text.

We were number one in the first, and possibly only, South Bank Demo Charts in the Grimsby Evening Telegraph.

There’s no chance of a reunion. That will be a relief to many. Our drummer emigrated to Australia. Our singer-songwriter-lead guitarist is MIA, last seen in India (or Boscombe). Our bass player plays in a semi-professional covers band. And our guitarist/tech guy is me.

Auto-generated description: A band is performing on stage, with musicians playing electric guitars and drums.

Every few years I get out the digitised versions of all our old demo and home recording tapes and remix and (re)master them with the he latest free tools available. In the early days, that was Audacity. More recently, it’s Soundcloud’s and Bandlab’s (free) online mastering tools.

The goal is always the same. To transform the lofi, degraded analog recordings preserved on mangled old cassette tapes that were digitised using the cheapest USB analog to digital converter tape deck available twelve or fifteen years ago into something resembling what we actually sounded like in our rehearsal room, the studio, the pub, and - most importantly - in our own imaginations. (If you’re interested in learning more about mastering and how Bandlab mastering works there’s a couple of good articles here.)

Auto-generated description: Labels for Hovercraft featuring Mr. Tooting Brown and a contact number are arranged on a sheet.

Last October I went down the same old nostalgia rabbit-hole. Every time I think I’ve made the tracks sound better with the latest software, which usually means adding reverb or preset effects (which are likely a mixture of reverb and compression). The end result is something which sounds a bit louder, more atmospheric and less rough around the edges. Although all the reverb and compression can also make for a lot of additional noise, when noise is an integral part of the original sound AND the degradation of the original sound that was digitised.

Auto-generated description: A collage shows four different portraits of a man from various angles and in different photographic styles, with one labeled Nasty in the background.

Anyway, it’s all a bit of fun and allows for reconnecting with Ron Nasty, our old bass man (now known as Ronnie Nice). Ronnie and me had a lot of fun writing the band’s not entirely factual or unelaborated back story. Putting that into Claude.ai produced more amusing results, as did giving it some of the lyrics to the songs. These AIs can make pretty good music critics if you tell them that’s what they are, even if they’ve never heard a note. Claude is now like the fifth Beatle.

Auto-generated description: The newspaper article features a music spotlight on the band Hovercraft and their brief but impactful presence, alongside tour dates and descriptions of their unique sound.

And that was what got me thinking… Can AI listen to music? That’s how I discovered Suno Music, Microsoft’s online AI music creation beast. And it is a beast. (Other beasts are available.) Me and Ron started off simply pasting in lyrics to the songs Ron had lovingly transcribed by listening to the old songs over and over again (only the other day I realised I had some of the original lyric sheets, but don’t tell Ron). Click on and Suno will produce three minutes of sophisticated sounding rock or pop that you can start listening back to in a matter of seconds. It’s highly addictive. You can add music style tags (folk, blues, punk, etc.) and even general instructions to generate a particular sound (“Indian sounding funeral dirge”) that you like. This technique created what I called Hovercraft Reimagined.

Auto-generated description: Handwritten lyrics titled Killer Blues are composed on a crumpled sheet of lined paper.

That was back in March. The originals, if you wanna listen.

Then I realised you could (then) upload and use two minutes of original audio. Not quite a recreation or restoration of the original songs, but getting close. We also enjoyed doing an album of Hovercraft songs as if covered by a female singer in a more chillout style.

Auto-generated description: A smiling man in a bow tie, emerging from a brick enclosure, reaches out to touch an illuminated fingertip, while surrounded by floating smartphones, under the text RE:CREATION.

Finally (!), Suno v4.5 now allows up to eight minutes of uploaded audio. Frustratingly, I haven’t been able to recreate some songs at all (Mr Tooting Brown seems impossible), and still the AI seems to insist on missing out intros, outros, middle bits, solos, lead guitar work. But it’s getting a lot closer to an actual recreation of the original songs and band sound and style.

We also had fun generating song and album covers with ChatGPT.

Auto-generated description: A stylized, colorful illustration of a hovercraft with an expressive face is placed above the text hovercraft.

Lastly, to reiterate, all of the songs bar the originals were created using Suno. Most of the later ones I downloaded the stems, uploaded them to Bandlab and remixed and mastered them there, before uploading to Bandcamp.

I’m not expecting anyone to listen to any or all of this, but hope it’s a useful contribution for anyone wondering what or how to go about a similar restoration project, or indeed, to create your own new songs (I’ve also done a few of those, too). Some people are pretty sceptical about AI generated art, and that’s fair enough. But this has been tremendous fun, and it’s great for me, Ron and everyone else who remembers our band to be able to recreate, restore, produce and hear the old songs again in a way that doesn’t hurt the ears so much.

Auto-generated description: A musician passionately sings into a microphone while playing an electric guitar on stage.

While it was never the original “plan”, we’re now looking at releasing tracks through Bandlab’s distribution service, and reworking some of the songs to make them poppier and more accessible to a wider audience. And we’re looking for Charlie Pepper. Last heard of in the Bournemouth area ten years ago.

We should put a card in the local Spar shop window: “Chilled out lamppost wanted to front retro space pop band”. That should do it.

Auto-generated description: A handwritten sign on a glass window reads, Chilled out lamppost wanted to front retro space-pop band, with blurred, colorful objects in the background.

Speaking of going on…. One of my favourite songs by The Damned - “Life Goes On”.

“We go on—not upward, not forward, but just on…”

— Anon

I Got My Mojo Workin'

Hovercraft’s electrifying take on Muddy Waters’ blues standard, transforming the Chicago classic into something distinctly their own while maintaining its essential swagger. The band stretches the familiar structure through strategic lyrical modifications and extended repetitive passages that push the song into hypnotic territory.

Recorded during their brief but intense 1995-96 existence, this version captures the raw energy that made their live performances so compelling. The 4-track intimacy brings the listener right into the room with the band, making the blues feel immediate and urgent rather than reverential.

A man holding a small bag labeled "MOJO" stands in front of a bed with three sleeping people, beneath the text "I GOT MY MOJO WORKIN'."

Hovercraft’s most ambitious and psychologically complex composition, this two-part epic traces the complete arc from deification to self-destruction. Beginning with “Now You’re God,” the song examines the toxic relationship between celebrity worship and personal identity, building through religious imagery and maternal prayers to the devastating conclusion of “Dying Comes So Easy.”

The haunting “frozen eye” imagery and repeated maternal prayers (“Pray for your son mama”) create hypnotic passages that mirror 📷obsessive thought patterns, while the religious symbolism elevates personal trauma to mythic proportions. The progression from external worship to internal destruction reveals the cruel mathematics of celebrity culture.

A man stares at his cracked reflection in a mirror with a clock overhead and a church-like window, accompanied by the words "NOW YOU'RE GOD."

Every song needs a pulse 📷. Every moment needs a heartbeat. Shimble’s rhythm keeping time with a generation’s hopes and fears, 1996.

The beat lives on: Re:Creation 🥁

A drummer is playing a drum set, wearing a T-shirt with a graphic design.

Confessions of a failed pop star.

Say what you like about AI, but it’s brought my old band back to life. Whether that’s a sweet thing is another matter.

Hometown

Hometown 📷

Auto-generated description: A historical postcard depicts a quiet, empty market square in Caistor, featuring several buildings and a central monument.

A few years before I grew up here.

The building on the right of the picture was “Rolie Clark’s sweet shop” as we kids knew it. It was actually a tobacconists and a barbershop. The archway next to it with the small child in it led to three houses, the middle one of which was ours (from about age eleven). You had to get past a very sad and angry dog (Scamp?) who was always chained up by our nextdoor neighbours. Our very elderly neighbours on the other side must yave thought they had dementia every time our cat stole the fresh fish from their kitchen.

Next building along was Arthur Clark’s newsagents, sweet shop, record and toy shop. This is where I had my first job as a newspaper boy delivering the morning papers before breakfast and school. It was great for reading all the back page football headlines and stories before I sat down with my cornflakes and Shoot! football magazine to memorise the starting elevens for all 92 football league clubs. It’s where I bought my first record Permanent Waves by Rush. Spirit Of Radio is still a favourite. It was that or Twelve Gold Bars by Status Quo, or Frampton Comes Alive! by Peter Frampton.

Swiftly moving on, next is (or would be) the NatWest bank. I will always remember answering the telephone at 11:06 am one sunny weekday morning. It must have been during the summer holidays and everyone was out of the house but me. Time for some serious guitar practice with my new massive amplifier and speaker cabinet! I’d just finished a mega feedback infused Jimi Hendrix inspired solo piece (think Machine Gun minus the virtuosity). As it says on Machine Gun’s Wikipedia entry:

Hendrix’s long guitar solos and percussive riffs combine with controlled feedback to simulate the sounds of a battlefield, such as helicopters, dropping bombs, explosions, machine guns, and the screams and cries of those wounded or grieving.

There’s no doubt that my version simulated the sounds of death and dying, and at 11:06 am as the last feedback was dying out and my ears were ringing, I heard the ringing of the telephone, which I duly answered.

“851611”

Hello. It’s the NatWest Bank. Could you please turn your, er, music down? We’re trying to work and we can barely hear ourselves think over your infernal racket!"

I’ve hated capitalism ever since.

In front of the bank was a bench for sitting on and a red phone box. The bench is where tough guy Peter Gissing walked by one day and just punched me in the face for no reason. This is why you don’t tend to find me just casually sitting around on benches.

The very narrow and short road next to the bank is, of course, Bank Street, which leads on to Church Street, which takes you past the Catholic church and down to the Anglican church opposite the grammar school and boarding houses.

The massive building the other side of Bank Street is “The Doctor’s House”, and there must have been some very nice flats above. My doctor, Dr Horsefield, was a known drunk, but he did save my children after “a cyst and and twist” left me looking like a lopsided Buster Gonad (“the boy with an unfeasibly large right testicle”) and had me rushed into hospital for emergency surgery. The Doctor’s House is where I met my first black man, Dr Prasad (from Nigeria), and my first Asian man, the unfortunately named Dr Rakshit, neither of whom seemed to think there was anything wrong with having one testicle the size of a melon.

The policeman in front of the Doctor’s is presumably heading in the direction of the small child to arrest her for being out after curfew, or something.

Finally, next to the Doctor’s is “The White House” which was a mysterious restaurant and guesthouse. Mysterious because I never went in, and never saw anyone go in or come out.

In the foreground on the left is the Caistor Lion, a water fountain and statue of a golden lion holding a red shield commemorating sixty years of Queen Victoria (I had to look that up). It’s still there today, unlike the lamp post. When I was growing up there was a public toilet, which is where I smoked my first “cigarette”.

I can’t remember the last time I went back to Caistor other than a couple of recent drive-throughs to show my unimpressed kids. The place gives me the creeps.

My head is shot, my teeth are rot…

Had a few jars with my old band’s bass player last night.