When Colin Newman and Malka Spigel started their synthesizer duo Immersion back in the 1990s, part of electronica’s appeal was the chance to reinvent oneself. “We were very into the electronic music when it started; it felt like a fresh movement.,” says Spigel. “It freed us from our past, and we could start fresh ourselves, without people’s expectations of what we did before.”
“Yeah, there was an element in a lot of dance music at the time of it didn’t really matter where it came from,” adds Newman. “It didn’t matter who the people were, what gender they were, what color they were, or what language they spoke, because it was instrumental music. So I think for the first time in the history of what you might call popular music, you lost that kind of axis of basically Britain and America — and in Britain, Jamaica — really having the majority of the markets. Suddenly you could really come from anywhere. And that really opened up the whole scene. Although the roots of techno were in Detroit, and roots of house were in Chicago, they were not adopted at the same level in America as they were in Europe. So Berlin and other places, you know, became centers of techno, and that was kind of interesting.”
Newman, of course, had already sought out and created alternatives to the usual pop fare with Wire, whose debut, Pink Flag, with its stop-start breakdowns, semi-spoken/shouted vocals, and angular riffs created a stir in the music world of 1977. For the band at the time, though, punk was already a cliche: They were rejecting both classic rock posturing and punk posturing at the same time. They were, perhaps, the first example of “post punk.”
And yet, as Newman pointed out years ago on The Guestlist podcast with Sean Cannon, “There was no such thing as post-punk. We were just ‘not punk.’ But we were not punk in a way that was familiar with punk already.” Wire was thus premised on reinvention. “Punks hated us … Our songs were too short or they were too slow. We were too weird. We were too arty. We looked wrong.”
By the 1980s, with Wire and his own solo albums, Newman was still questing for new, unique sounds, and in 1985 he came to produce an album for the Israeli synth band Minimal Compact, which included Spigel. They became a couple and eventually married, as both explored the potential of synthesizers in their separate projects. Ultimately, they formed Immersion and released Oscillating in 1995.
And reinventing themselves was part of the appeal of electronica at the time. As Spigel says now, “We liked how mysterious the artists were. Even the famous ones were kind of hiding, not really showing who they were. And the music, of course, was inspiring.”
Embracing the sonic world of synthesizers has served them well, and since 2021 they’ve expanded Immersion’s sound to include collaboration with other artists, under the umbrella term of Nanocluster. The debut Nanocluster album saw Immersion collaborate with Stereolab’s Lætitia Sadier, German post-rock duo Tarwater, and electronic musicians Ulrich Schnauss and Scanner. Released in June 2024, Nanocluster, Vol. 2 had guests Thor Harris — the charismatic percussion player from Swans and Cubzoa — and Jack Wolter from Penelope Isles. And this year has seen the release of Nanocluster, Vol. 3.
On the new album, the couple are collaborating with the American “ambient country” band SUSS, described by Uncut magazine as “Eno’s Apollo Atmospheres crash-landed in America’s Sonoran Desert,” and by Pitchfork as “Neither rawboned nor ramshackle … their elegantly composed brand of ambient country stands as tall and clean as a brand-new pair of cowboy boots.”
A trio of veteran musicians Pat Irwin (the B-52s, Raybeats, 8 Eyed Spy), Bob Holmes (numun, Rubber Rodeo), and Jonathan Gregg (the Combine, the Linemen), SUSS combine traditional instruments like pedal steel, National steel guitar, mandolin, harmonica, baritone guitar, and harmonium with synthesizers and loops to create their a spacious, cinematic sound.
