A shy fellow, Australian pop artist Anthony Rochester ends up playing the majority of the instruments on his albums himself. In addition to vocals, he plays piano, bass, drums, guitars, violin, percussion, recorder, and a host of keyboards. Recording at home, he borrows the instruments he doesn't have. When he can't make the sounds himself, he borrows a musician: a cellist here, a flautist there.
Rochester's music is something entirely in its own orbit: listening to it, you get the sense that it could have appeared on AM radio before he was born, or that it could be some something composed years after he's dead.
In a private email intercepted by Radio Khartoum, Matt Jones compared Rochester's music to a stained-glass window, adding, ‘It is music for interiors, bored Tuesday afternoons with nothing much to do but with a smouldering-cigarette desire to do something, music to fill the void like particles of dust illuminated by coloured light.'
Rochester lives in Hobart, Australia, spending most of his time in his bedroom studio. Contrary to popular myth, he is not Norwegian, and does not work in a library.