The Flightpath Estate is first, and foremost, a Facebook group. Established in 2013, and now run by five friends – Martin Brannagan, Mark Ratcliff, Barry Smith, Dan Snape, and Adam Turner – it takes its name from the West London studio that once housed The Sabres Of Paradise and 2 Lone Swordsmen. It’s an online space where Andrew Weatherall obsessives can exchange anecdotes, trivia, and show off recent Weatherall-related finds.* As part of an ongoing process they’ve tirelessly compiled, and track-listed, an incredible amount of Andrew’s recordings – live sets, and radio broadcasts – exhaustively catalogued his releases, and selflessly made these efforts publicly available as a searchable resource called The Weatherdrive. Following Weatherall’s death they did something similar with his written interviews, essays, and countless “Top 10” articles. At the time of Andrew’s sudden, tragic passing, The Flightpath was also an invaluable place where people, united in grief, could share their stories. Consequently it’s become the first port of call for any journalist researching a piece on the much loved, sorely missed DJ / producer / icon and wit.

Some payback for all this hard, and charitable, labour came when the chaps were asked to supply DJ support at various shindigs, primarily those celebrating the life of the great man, such as AW60, which marked what would have been his 60th birthday. It was The Golden Lion, in Todmodern, who hosted that gig – a venue once described by Weatherall’s A Love From Outer Space co-founder and spar, Sean Johnston as “a cross between a school disco and The Wicker Man”, and by others as “a portal to another world.” They’re all currently gearing up for AW61. As excitement for that event mounts, they’ve now announced a collaborative vinyl compilation. Titled Sounds From The Flightpath Estate Volume 1, the record collects, across 4 sides of vinyl, exclusive selections from a stellar array of talented folks, including Weatherall’s close friends and family.

The ten tracks, well, to be honest, they’re all highlights. As a clear sign of respect, to not only Andrew, but also Adam, Barry, Dan, Mark, and Martin, everybody has submitted their best work. There’s no filler. Sequenced like a fine funky alternative night out, the shenanigans start with a 2 Lone Swordsmen obscurity. Previously only available on a Japanese promo CD, The Crescents, is a plaintively picked, echoed and reverb-ed, beautiful bit of beatless ambience, that provides a perfect point of gentle entry. Timothy Fairplay and Justin Robertson then both drop dubwise diversions. Timothy’s Centurion Version, is no doubt a nod to the gay porn flick that inspired the titles of The Asphodells’ output, the production partnership Fairplay once shared with Weatherall. Slow, stoned, woozy and wonky, its Tamazepan jelly jive is like a skank in sonic quicksand. Justin’s curious Curtains Twitch On Peaks is a much deeper mediation, and more a post-punk deconstruction of traditional, roots reggae and dub. Its big bottom-end the anchor, while disembodied voices deliver poetry and prose.

Andrew’s brother, Ian, together with Duncan Gray, as Sons Of Slough, racks the tempo up, with the rocking electro of Red Machine – something that maybe a reference to `80s left-wing band, The Redskins, and their call for a statue-toppling socialist / workers revolution. Somehow they find room for a little moody New Order-esque melodica, in between the arpeggiated eruptions and space-y sound effects. Richard Sen’s Tough On Chug, Tough On The Causes Of Chug is also most definitely dance-floor directed gear. Clipped, chiming chords swirl around sharp, snapping, smashing snares, while the bass-line’s boom shakes the room. There’s a near subliminal vocal sample, that could be The Aleems, and a callback to Richard’s misspent hip hop youth.

Mark Ratcliff’s Rude Audio invade your heart with Running Wild’s Jah Wobble-influenced groove. Dubby disco-not-disco dynamite, this starts sorta simply, but boisterously bumps its way to being fucking intense – adding layers of percussion, flickering synths, effects, and mutated electric African highlife guitar. The voodoo JuJu building up, breaking down, pausing for breath, before finishing with a final spinback. Jesse Fahnestock’s 10:40 project keeps the party pressure up with Three Rings, whose circus revolves around significant beats, circuitry bleeps, and a psychedelic fairground organ. A half-inched shouted sermon encourages the shimmying, while Emilia Harmony recites from The Tibetan Book Of The Dead.

Sean “Hardway Bros” Johnston`s Theme For Flightpath Estate is, unsurprisingly, a tailor-made ALFOS anthem. Head-banging, hypnotic, trance-inducing, stamping, stomping, novo, Sci-Fi / Blade Runner, new beat, it dives into the dark, but only to take the devoted on a journey toward the light. The anonymous, for contractual reasons, The Light Brigade, also steadily lift listeners / dancers spirits up. Their track, Human: Remains, is constantly climbing. Its keys, a theremin / harmonium-like drone, and a homage to classic kosmische. The percussive rhythm, a tribute, perhaps, to the tribal sound of Weatherall’s infamous `90s bash, Sabresonic.

Andy Bell’s heartfelt cover of Sabres Of Paradise’s Smokebelch II is built around the original’s symphonic bass synth, but played out, instead, on acoustic piano and guitar. A peaceful piece of careful picking, mic’d so intimately that you can hear fingers slide up and down strings, with controlled arcs of electric distortion and fizzing feedback gradually drifting in, it proves to be a super cool, and emotional, way to close.

In summing up I’d like to add a personal footnote. All through the COVID pandemic The Flightpath Estate provided its community with not only entertainment and engagement – a very welcome distraction from the developing disaster – but also care and support. They themselves experienced unbelievable tragedy, showed amazing strength in crushing adversity, when some would have surely caved. I’m overjoyed to see them succeed, crystallise the virtual into the physical, and hopefully get the props and recognition they deserve.

There are no online clips, but you can catch a musical taster by checking out Mat Hum’s marvellous mini-mix:

Pre-orders for Sounds From The Flightpath Estate Volume 1 went up yesterday, care  of Golden Lion Sounds, via Bandcamp and Big Cartel. 

While these online pre-orders for the album sold-out in a matter of minutes, other outlets will be stocking copies. 

All profits will be divided between The Golden Lion and Andrew Weatherall’s favourite charities. 

There are currently no plans for digital. 

Talk of Volume 2 is already underway. 

NOTES
*The group very kindly asked me to join after watching me try to trainspot an old Weatherall rock n roll mix. They are one of the few reasons that I’m still on Facebook.