Modern Nature

When Modern Nature toured their last album, 2023’s No Fixed Point In Space, it became apparent to Jack Cooper – the band’s main creative force – that they were already pulling away from the free, open-ended approach they had spent five years working towards; almost as if the music had become so abstract and elasticated, it now had to snap back towards something more structured. As they found themselves naturally locking into more fixed grooves, he realised a new direction had been set. Their new album – The Heat Warps – is the triumphant manifestation of where that new direction took them.

In the aftermath, Cooper’s songwriting, which had become increasingly impressionistic, found a new focus and the idea of making an album that followed a similar path to the last two increasingly seemed obtuse. The purpose was to forge a radical change. The core trio of him, Jim Wallis (drums) and Jeff Tobias (bass guitar) were augmented by a new guitarist – Tara Cunningham. 

Modern Nature’s recent records have reflected an insular life. Cooper had moved out to the countryside in 2021 and had, in his words, been “hibernating” while he started a family. He felt this new band was a symbol for his reawakening and the perfect vessel for him to continue to explore themes that he’s sung about with Modern Nature – collectivism, our relationship with the natural world, the weight of consciousness – but with more directness and purpose. The key was the new dual guitar sound.

“I’ve always been drawn to bands where two guitarists work as a unit to move around and colour the rhythm section,” explains Cooper. “I’d been listening to the demos Television did with Brian Eno in the day and then that night I played with Tara for the first time at an improvised music show. We have a very similar approach to the guitar and that extends to the way we sing, so it gives the music an interesting balance.

“What we do is mirrored; a symmetry on either side of what Jim and Jeff are doing in the rhythm section. We’ve played with lots of amazing musicians who continue to orbit around what we do, but Tara joining the band felt like finding the other side to the square. Previous records have been performed by upwards of fifteen people but it was apparent the four of us could achieve something more powerful and more direct.”

In the time Modern Nature has been a band, the world has undoubtedly changed. The words Cooper had been writing previously were somewhat ambiguous but it had started to feel like he was sitting on the fence and that was something he needed to address.

“Every day we’re confronted with a confusing and scary world,” he says. “Making music and creating things can feel flippant or unnecessary, but my own world view was defined and influenced by art and artists who weren’t afraid to highlight and offer solutions: Public Enemy, The Smiths or a wider American counterculture.”

“The community we’ve built our life around – artists, musicians and the people who gravitate to these things as way of communicating – are struggling to reconcile how they fit into an increasingly cruel world. This album, the themes and the lyrics are directed towards them because I think there are still reasons to be optimistic. There are amazing things happening all around us and it’s up to communities like ours to double down on the things we believe in. It feels as if being part of a group like Modern Nature and making an album that’s open, optimistic and ambitious is in itself part of the solution.”

As the new band started to play together more, the energy, excitement and telepathy between them gained momentum and it became clear they needed to make a record that captured that. They locked into a process where they booked a couple of shows, directly followed by four days in the studio (the all-analogue Gizzard Recording in east London). They’d spend two weeks living in each other’s pockets – a very condensed rush of creativity.

“It’s rare to hear a recording of a band playing in a room together,” adds Cooper. “And that interaction, the discrepancies in timing, synergy, in pitch, that’s where the magic really is, I think, and that’s what we wanted to capture.”

One additional (and slightly unlikely) influence on the record was Andrew Weatherall. Before he passed away, he’d played Modern Nature on his NTS show and Cooper was thrilled that he liked them. He made it an aim to make a record Weatherall might have played to his friends late at night. His motto “Fail we may, sail we must” is what the Can-esque track Pharaoh is about. 

“It’s difficult to stay aware of the world around you without becoming despondent,” says Cooper. “Pharoah makes the case for finding a personal philosophy and trying to live a life that might inspire others or at the very least not hurt them.”

Elsewhere, Radio touches on the contempt capitalism has for the natural world. The line “there’s a fire all around” offers a kind of gallows humour. Cooper adds that recently they played the songs on a day that the news was showing footage of the Los Angeles fires. It occurred to him that it was perhaps an insensitive subject to be singing about but there again – in his words – he feels it’s “important not to turn away from these things.” The same desire not to shy away might also be attributed to Source, which touches on the recent riots in the UK directed towards asylum seekers, inspired by misinformation spread online.

For all this wrestling with the grimmer realities of 2025, The Heat Warps is ultimately not a record entirely consumed by anxieties. Its frequently beautiful sounds offer consolation and a wide-eyed optimism amid all the upheaval. Nowhere is that more apparent than on the transcendent album closer, Totality. As Cooper explains: “It was fascinating spending time in America as the country geared up for the 2024 solar eclipse. The news stations covered the event in the same way they’d cover a big football game or the Oscars. Everywhere I went, people were talking about the eclipse and for a few days it really seemed to capture the public’s imagination. 

“My friend’s dad had organised a huge party and had obviously done his homework. When he was running us through his preparation and how the day was going to go down, he said, ‘We’re hoping for totality,’ and it blew my mind.

“The day of the eclipse I was driving through New Mexico and we stopped by the side of the road with hundreds of other people gazing up to the heavens. It felt exciting to be part of something that clearly resonated with people on such a profound level. It’s a fitting album closer and somewhere in there is a philosophy; a romantic nihilism.”

And at its heart, right there is the core of Modern Nature’s appeal. Never more so than on this new record.