There was a moment outside the door of a recording studio in rural France, staring at a half-eaten apple that he believed possessed psychedelic properties, when James Ford knew things had really got out of hand. He was stood with Klaxons; all of the band members were hypnotised by this rotting fruit which throbbed on the floor with kaleidoscopic intensity. They were convinced that its blooming mould was in fact their spiritual guru.
The band had been riding the wave of their huge, scene-defining debut album, 2007’s Myths of the Near Future – which was produced by Ford – and were now trying to record the interminably difficult follow-up, aided by daily doses of a concoction they’d taken to calling “the five-star general”. He realised he couldn’t rein things back in. Klaxons, it’s fair to say, had lost their minds a little bit.
Instead, that “ill-fated second record” became the only project that Ford has never finished in a career that has since established him as the music industry’s go-to magic weapon. It is quite the trajectory. Ford went from tearing up 00s dancefloors as one half, alongside Jas Shaw, of Simian Mobile Disco – musicians and DJs who elevated the electro-rave era of the decade – to becoming the most sought-after ear in music.
In the last decade, with little in the way of hype, he has quietly become the pre-eminent producer of his generation. Ford is who you call when you’re trying to make a career-defining album (Arctic Monkeys; Florence + the Machine; Jessie Ware; Fontaines DC), who you trust to realise a stunning comeback (Pulp; Blur; Gorillaz; Depeche Mode) and who you need to help translate critical buzz into commercial success (Geese; The Last Dinner Party; Black Country, New Road). At home, surrounded by synths, guitars and all manner of recording equipment, Ford seems relaxed and is softly spoken, with a light touch of the Staffordshire accent he grew up with.
The heyday of his hedonism may be behind him, but it’s obvious that he still loves what he does. It is this and a general sense of ease that has earned Ford a level of trust from artists at their most vulnerable. A gracious, nice guy in an industry famously short of decency, it’s easy to understand why the world’s biggest artists are knocking down his door to work with him.
Still, it’s a minor miracle we’re even meeting today. On Christmas Eve 2024 Ford was with his wife and young son at his in-laws’ in Folkestone when he got “hit like a ton of bricks”. He was laid out on the sofa, unable to get up with a fever that wouldn’t break and a flu-like illness that refused to let up.
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