‘I’m interested in humour!’: How Isobel Waller-Bridge made her new album with Hoovers, shoes and balls

The composer Isobel Waller-Bridge writes music for sweeping historical epics and world-class symphony orchestras. She has created scores for period dramas including Autumn de Wilde’s Emma and ITV’s Vanity Fair as well as the American Ballet theatre and the Alexander McQueen runway. But she’s no stranger to throwing a curveball. She made one of the most memorable TV themes of the past decade – the serrated musical motif that amped up the closing credits of Fleabag as her younger sister Phoebe kneeled for confession with the Hot Priest. And now her new solo album is a collection of 10 songs inspired by ordinary objects such as a Hoover, a ball and a cushion.

Objects channels radical minimalist composers such as Pauline Oliveros and John Cage and combines ambient, drone and electronic textures. It takes a gifted musician to make good music from a vacuum cleaner but the resulting album is something immersive and otherworldly, where these mundane objects spirit you away from the humdrum. You’ll never look at a shoe in quite the same way again…

Were you apprehensive about releasing tracks with titles like “Hoover”? 
The title of that track was hard because it’s just too unsexy, it’s too literal, but I had to honour the objects I used and name them: shoe, ball, glass, cushion. I thought: “Wouldn't it be great if I could take the most mundane thing that we use and try to find the beauty in it?” So I played the objects and I treated them with effects, like various reverbs. There was a bigger idea in my mind of appreciating everyday things when the world outside is overwhelming. 

There’s a tendency to view avant-garde classical music as lofty – is it more accessible than we think?
There's definitely an academic language around it that can make it feel lofty. But this record is completely emotional. It’s not meant to be obscure – I’m interested in humour as well. That’s why the objects are called the way they are.

Listening to the album, the frequencies give me the brain tingles. Did you compose it thinking about ASMR (Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response – that lovely tickling sensation that’s triggered by certain sounds and frequencies and usually starts on the scalp)? 
It did actually begin as an ASMR record and I was quite specific about the frequencies that I was using, because I found that some of them were having a really positive effect on my own brain – whether there were frequencies that were helping me to clear my mind, or ones that made me feel stimulated. I think it was really about finding space. But it evolved, because it took me some years to make it.

There are two works that inspired me for this record: one is Robert Ashley's Automatic Writing (1979), 46 minutes of music that doesn’t have a structure like in a traditional piece of music. There’s a lot of indiscernible spoken word in it and background noise; it feels like being on the other side of a door. One of my favourite things is being in a room on my own in a house full of people. There's a comfort in knowing people are around. 

The other is Dream House, a sound installation in New York by [minimalist composer] La Monte Young and [his late wife, the multimedia artist] Marian Zazeela. It has these frequencies that change incrementally over time; it’s endless, constant sound. I cannot tell you how much it affected me, because it's so beautiful and so peaceful, but also challenging. I started thinking about how to create sound if it doesn’t come from an instrument, if it comes from an object – it can still be music.

You’ve said that Objects is an invitation to “listen slowly”. Why do we need more of that in today’s world? 
There are playlists now that are shrinking music. You can play it at double speed or something, and so I actively want to do the opposite of that and explore what happens when you listen for a longer period of time. I don't mind background music if it helps people focus, but you're not really listening – it becomes part of some sort of other tapestry that doesn't feel particularly affecting.

I spend a lot of my time writing quite melodic music for scores and I'm constantly thinking: what is music, what makes something beautiful, what’s emotional? And I've become more and more interested in the practice of listening. I'm an instinctive and highly reactive person and I notice that when I try and listen slowly, it helps me to be more articulate, less knee-jerk.

I would love it if my music was something you would sit down and listen to and not do anything else while you listen. Just be with yourself, close your eyes and let your mind drift. It's a form of meditation – not so much about soothing, but about emptying your mind. A friend of mine said that she was listening to it and it made her miss her Pret order. 

What or who else brings you joy?
I have made more space as I’ve grown older for spending time with people. I realised that that gives me the most joy. When I was younger, I would spend all my time playing the piano. I could very easily not see people for days and days. I was shy and doing music to the detriment of absolutely everything. 

As this fairly solitary and music-obsessed person, immersed in your own world, how prepared were you and your sister Phoebe for the sudden fame that Fleabag brought?
It did feel quite sudden, it was a bit of a shock. My sister wrote it for Edinburgh over a decade ago and so there was a group of us that were all really involved from the word go. I was making the music and the sound design on the train on the way up to the festival. And so we had this great relationship with this piece of work that when everything blew up and my sister became so famous, we could all enjoy it. My sister and I were living together at the peak of her fame, so we were able to stay connected and close. Those are some of my favourite years. My main memory is how much fun we had together, just being sisters and hanging out, rather than the huge craziness that was going on.

What's more important? Romance or sex?
I do think romance but it’s an impossible question, because they’re equally important. I am a romantic person, it’s a high priority in my life, but I see it less in the outside world. With dating apps, it's so much about what people look like – everything is aesthetic. Some of my longest relationships are with friends, though, and that's a huge romance. There's a level of care that feels romantic. 

Do you have any regrets? If so, what and why?
I often have regrets about hats. Sometimes I think I’m a hat person and I bought one the other day that was a huge mistake. The first problem was that it's a hat and a scarf and it's got a front bit that comes up like a fisherman’s hat. I wore it to a meeting and somebody commented on it as a compliment. But you know when you’re like: they didn’t mean it.

What annoys you most at the moment?
I get annoyed that I have to use my phone in order to do anything. I can’t put my phone down because I’ll try to do something and I’ll need a password, or an authentication. I know I can absolutely read a book and those are the times where I can have peace. But I find that the hold that my phone has, because it's so embedded in everything that I do, is genuinely annoying.

Objects is out now on Mercury KX