Review
Culture
Music
S&U interviews
9 min read

Charm in tunes on the eastern edge

Musician and priest Rev Simpkins discusses how music is an expression of humanity and his faith. An interview with Jonathan Evens.

Jonathan is Team Rector for Wickford and Runwell. He is co-author of The Secret Chord, and writes on the arts.

Standing on a salt marsh beside a wooden pillar, a man holds a banjo upright like a rifle.
Matt Simpkins in his natural habitat.
James Fletcher.

Suffolk-Essex musician, Rev Simpkins, creates music of great imagination and charm, inspired by the history and geography of East Anglia.  

The Reverend Matt Simpkins is the fourth generation of his family to be ordained priest in the Church of England. Prior to ordination, he was a professional musician having been a choral scholar at Oxford University and a Lecturer in Music. He came to musical notoriety through raucous exploits in Fuzzface, Gospel-fiddle duo Sons of Joy, and as a solo artist performing as Rev Simpkins & the Phantom Notes. He collaborated with Kenney Jones of the Small Faces to reconstruct the orchestral parts of their 1968 psychedelic masterpiece Ogden’s Nut Gone Flake

Working as a parish priest a few miles away, Matt came to the saltings to retreat and compose compelling and compassionate songs about his community’s real-life experiences during the pandemic. 

In 2019 a diagnosis of cancer brought an opportunity to make new music and he released the hope-filled album Big Sea in 2020. Written around his initial time of illness, the album is an exuberant celebration of the peaks and troughs of life and death through off-kilter songs about east coast creeks, shattering storms, mystic pelicans and the Colchester martyrs. Shades of Captain Beefheart, Pavement, and the Kinks meld with Evensong choirs and pipe organs, pre-war Gospel Blues, string orchestras, brass bands, and Bert Jansch style fingerpicking. 

Saltings, his acclaimed fourth album and book, was created with the illustrator, Tom Knight, and is a loving portrait of the mystery and beauty of Essex's salt marsh wilderness, and a meditation on the real human cost of the wilderness time of the pandemic. Found within 50 miles of London, the saltings are one of England’s last natural wild spaces. Working as a parish priest a few miles away, Matt came to the saltings to retreat and compose compelling and compassionate songs about his community’s real-life experiences during the pandemic. Saltings portrays hope found amid wilderness. On this album he mixes the colourful folk tradition of Appalachians Mountains with the melodiousness and carefully-observed lyrics of the Kinks. Close harmonies intertwine with banjo, French horn, and bass. 

 

“Zany in parts, moving in others, you’ll be hard pressed to find a more unusual, inspired and profound album this year.”

His most recent album and band, Pissabed Prophet, was born in the resonance field of an MRI machine, as he tried to keep himself sane by mentally harmonising over the deafening noise of a medical scanner. Excited by the potential of the sounds, he recruited Dingus Khan and SuperGlu frontman Ben Brown to help him turn these ideas into an EP. Working over the summer of 2022, the pair formed an immediate intense friendship and working relationship, and ideas for the EP quickly blossomed into an album’s worth of material, overspilling with joyous and ruminative songs, born of an emotionally turbulent time in which Matt underwent unsuccessful immunotherapy for stage 4 cancer. I have previously written that being, “Zany in parts, moving in others, you’ll be hard pressed to find a more unusual, inspired and profound album this year.”  

We meet at Colchester Arts Centre – which self-describes as the little church with the big attitude deep in the heart of Essex - in a room that was once the vestry for St Mary at the Walls Church, now deconsecrated. 

JE: Music and faith seem to have been combined in your upbringing. Can you tell us how that came about and its influence on what you now do? 

MS: Music and faith have been total influences. I am the son, grandson and nephew of Anglican clerics. While I was in my mother’s womb, headphones were placed on the bump and I was played a mix of Boney M (‘Rivers of Babylon’) and Vaughn Williams’ Fantasia on a Theme of Thomas Tallis. My parents let me bash at their piano from a very young age. I was allowed to experiment before begging for piano lessons. I sang in church choirs and played the violin for Morris dancers. I was a church organist and played in bands.    

JE: You embraced a range of different styles early on - from choral to rock - with each influencing the other to create your eclectic and distinctive styles. What is it that interests you about crossing boundaries and blending different styles in this way? 

MS: Growing up I didn’t realise there were distinctions and just played whatever there was. I had a delight and fascination with different sorts of music and began to realise that the fundamentals go across all types of music, so that aspects of ‘Penny Lane’ relate to elements of Palestrina and Tallis. Music moves me and, once I understand its working, I can experiment and play with those things. The way I write is similar to writing classical music through the use of counterpoint and harmonic tricks. If you want a dividing line, you have to force it on the music. I’m not interested in dividing lines between music or grace.  

Music is just such a brilliant expression of our humanity and my faith is that all these things have something to do with grace. Christianity is music: the Psalms are the bedrock of Christian faith and worship. All is melded into one. I’m obsessed with the Psalms and the violent mood swings they contain. Their emotional honesty intertwines music and human life with grace. The richness of creation and human experience – for good and ill – mean that I’m not willing to believe that parts of that are somehow untouched by grace and redemption – even our own suffering and sorrow. 

JE: Your work contains a rich vein of humour. What is it about the comedic that meshes with your wider vision? 

MS: At the core of creativity is playfulness. Without playfulness there isn’t seriousness. There is great joy in the creative process and playfulness when recording. Now, I often play together with my son. I’m also thick as thieves with Ben Brown. In the studio we just bounce off each other and egg each other on in adding counterpoint and harmonies. Compositional play is all the way through the creative process and we are playing with sound in the recordings. Forming and shaping songs to sing about real life, brings comfort.      

JE: What impact have the challenges of illness, both personal and social (through the pandemic) had on your work? 

MS: I came back to music because I got ill. After ordination I thought that music was something that formed me but was not part of my ministry. When I first got ill, I found it hard to pray, so I read those ancient songs - the Psalms - as I always have. I became especially interested in the bits people often leave out. We need to see the difficulties that underly the songs but also see the joy like the Psalmist. This is the darkness of grace. Shit happens but grace remains.  

We know that Jesus prayed the Psalms and believe that he takes all human experience up on himself on the cross. So, if I’m having a scary experience like an MRI scan why not think what I might do creatively with that shuddering racket in a song? I take up my experiences in the faith that they have some connection to grace. Human experience and shared experience can result in emotionally dynamic and authentic songs. 

Saltings, I wrote on my own because of lockdown. The songs all came quickly, partly as a coping mechanism in a pressure-cooker environment.   

JE: Your recent albums, though addressing and confronting significant personal and social challenges have remained resolutely positive, upbeat, engaged and wondering. What are the wellspring for these strands in your music? 

MS: I’m trying to give an authentic sense of joy in my music. I find that joy in making music with people I love. We just get together and make music. They know it’s authentic. It’s fun, really fun, and has been incredibly therapeutic. Music is bound up with identity and community and reconnecting with music has been good for my faith. Light and gathering together are part of the Holy Spirit’s personality.  

JE: Your work draws significantly on your locality and its heritage. Why has it been important for you to have that local grounding and inspiration? 

MS: You write about what you know and use music to come close to place. In writing Saltings I was walking over the marshes praying and pondering the amazing history of this area; Eastern England’s connection to the continent and with radical faith and politics. You can’t capture the saltings in photographs, they are Southern England’s last wilderness. Colchester, where we are talking, has also always fascinated me. We are literally sitting on top of amazing remains, a real richness. These places can come alive in music. 

JE: Through music you explore faith in everyday life and as a performer you are on a mainstream label and perform primarily outside of church. Why are these things important to you and what sort of reaction do you get to them? 

MS: The musicians with which I play are seriously good musicians – intelligent and sensitive.  Only a few of them are Christians. We have shared experiences, although I expect faith may not cross their minds. They enjoy playing the music. However, people often ask about faith at gigs or in interviews. These are wonderful ways to bring faith into areas where it might not otherwise be. The venues I often play in have histories of community or religious use, as is the case with this Arts Centre where we are meeting today. 

I want to make music on a label that has all sorts of bands on it because I want to be in the world as a Christian. I don’t like gatherings where I am squirrelled away with people who think the same as me. Not much of the Bible is about being with those who are the same as you.  

I played a Sons of Joy concert – two screeching fiddles playing Gospel and chants – on a lightship and, after the concert, was approached by the owner of Antigen Records. I went back to the label several years after ordination with the recordings that became Big Sea and was very nervous about doing so, but they were very keen. Antigen is a label that has encouraged characterful, inventive music and which is not interested in barriers. There is not a dud release on that label!    

I consider myself to be a thoroughly Anglican Anglican. William Temple, John Donne, George Herbert, as with the Wesley’s, formed me. Temple’s Christian Life and Faith says that where there’s true community, that’s where the Holy Spirit is. 

“If you find something…that promotes true fellowship, there you know the Holy Spirit is at work...It may be that those with whom you join are not themselves Christian…Never mind that.”. 

 Augustine teaches us not to pretend we can know where the boundaries of the City of God sit, as we won’t know where they lie until the End Times. What is the Church for, if we can’t engage with humanity as it is? Part of priestly ministry is to recognise that there are gifts in every person (in and out of church) and to be open to grace, even (or perhaps especially!) when you don’t expect it.  

 

https://revsimpkins.com/ and https://antigenrecords.com/artists/pissabed-prophet/  

A new Pissabed Prophet EP entitled Apple is out in November on Antigen Records. 

Article
Culture
Economics
Generosity
5 min read

Be generous: pass on values and vision, not just wealth

Millennials may not earn more—but they could steward more wisely
An illustration of a family around a table looking at graph on a laptop.
Nick Jones/Midjourney.ai.

For the first time in modern history, this present generation of 28 to 43-year-olds will not achieve a higher standard of living than their parents. This is due to factors including wage stagnation, exorbitant house prices, equally exorbitant student debt, and an unstable job market.  

Paradoxically, this same generation stands to inherit the greatest amount of wealth in history. The Financial Times estimates this to be about £8.3 trillion in the U.S., £2.7 trillion in Europe, and £2.2 trillion in Asia.  

For Christian families fortunate enough to find themselves in this situation, it’s important to consider that passing on wealth is not just a financial issue, it’s a discipleship issue. And before we delve in, I want to acknowledge that not every reader will fit the traditional family model. You might be single, part of a blended family, estranged from children, or mentoring younger people instead of raising them. The principles here still apply - ‘next generation’ simply means those you influence.  

Talk about it 

One of my soap boxes is to encourage people, especially Christians, in the UK to talk more about money and giving. This becomes especially important within families who steward a lot of wealth. If parents don’t speak to their children about their wealth – what they’re doing with it and why – they run the risk of their children 

  • feeling overwhelmed by the responsibility and potentially making poor choices,  

  • not understanding or valuing their parents' heart for good stewardship and potentially squandering the wealth, 

  • doing things their own way and potentially dishonouring their parents’ wishes, or 

  • feeling resentful that they did not inherit as much as they thought they would. 

Being intentional and speaking openly as a family about your wealth will give you as parents a chance to inculcate your children with conviction about and purpose for what God has blessed you, and them, with. And it will give your children the opportunity to share their own heart and views on how to use wealth for good, as these may differ from yours.  

There is a plethora of information out there, and plenty of professional advisors who would love to be called upon to manage your wealth transfer, but, if you are a person of Christian faith, let us challenge ourselves to look to Scripture as a first point of departure.  

David and Solomon  

King David looms large as a character in the Old Testament. One of his ambitions was to build a temple for the Lord in Jerusalem. But God explicitly told him that he didn’t want David to do the building; instead, this project was to be passed on to his son, Solomon. We know that David was a very wealthy man, and that the temple building project would require vast amounts of resources, and thus, perhaps we can consider this instance as one of the great wealth transfers of ancient times. 

There are many takeaways from this story, but here are a few that stand out to me.  

David’s desire to build a temple for the Lord comes after he’s built an extravagant palace for himself. This invites a question: how many of us might come to the end of our working lives and realise we’ve had similar priorities?  

While we don’t have a way of knowing how much Solomon’s own ideas were welcomed in the planning and preparation, I think we can assume that David spent a lot of time imparting his vision and motivation to Solomon. There’s no way this kind of philanthropic project could’ve been executed otherwise.  

While this transfer started well, it didn’t end well. Solomon went on to accumulate even more wealth than his father and ended his life in a downward spiral of excess and deception. I’m not saying there is a direct correlation between inheriting wealth and getting caught in a downward spiral, but there are many temptations and pitfalls to contend with. 

There’s something to be said for timing. While one of the scripture passages that relate this story makes it sound like the handover went smoothly, another paints a very different picture. In it we see an elderly king clinging to his position and refusing to pass his mantle to Solomon until a coup by another son forces his hand.  

What can we learn from this?  

If we want our children to use their inherited wealth wisely and generously, it’s vital that they witness their parents modelling the right priorities. If I’ve pursued the accumulation of wealth more than I’ve pursued generously sharing my resources, my children are more likely to do the same. 

If we intend to pass our legacy on to our children, we must involve them in the conversation early on. And we must be careful to allow room for their own ideas lest they grow disillusioned and disengage.  

We cannot control what our children do with the wealth we give them; we can only do our best to model the right attitude before God when it comes to our resources. The best way to do this is to teach our children that everything we have comes from God and is to be used for his purposes, not for our own material excess.  

Know when to pass on the mantle. If we hang on too long, we risk opening the door to unnecessary division and conflict within our family. It’s also worth considering transferring wealth earlier rather than later in order to be philanthropically active as a family. As in a relay race, the person being passed the baton must for a time be running at the same speed as his or her predecessor.  

The great generational transfer  

When the time comes to hand over our resources and our legacy to the next generation, there are many things to consider. We’re not just handing over our money; we’re handing over all of what we’ve learned and experienced in our walk with God. I would argue that this spiritual transfer is even more significant than any other kind. For that, we have many biblical examples we can turn to: Moses and Joshua, Elijah and Elisha, Paul and Timothy, and of course, Jesus and his Church.  

Jesus told his disciples to go and make disciples of all nations, akin to what God said to Adam and Eve way back in the beginning: Be fruitful, fill the earth and exercise good stewardship over it. Our mission has always been to steward the earth, see it flourish, and point people to a relationship with God. To do this, God has put resources into our hands to be stewarded well and faithfully passed on to the next generation. It’s imperative that we do this well if our message is to be taken seriously.  

What would it look like for your family, or the next generation you influence, to steward both resources and faith together?  

 

Stewardship UK sponsors series 8 of the Re-Enchanting podcast. Find out more.