Nine Feet Underground

This post has been sitting here, incomplete, for several days now. I haven't been able to put any words together that would sensibly accompany this. Still haven't, so it's just about the song. Probably. 'Patience' is the first new song since Tame Impala's 2015 album 'Currents' and is a taster for the new album due in the summer. Continuing in the funkier direction that was hinted at on 'Lonerism' and was even more apparent on 'Currents', it seems to be more of the same. That being said, I like it, but I don't think it would have been out of place on the previous album.  Listen to it, see what you think. Dig those crazy bongos, maaaaan ;-)

Still processing all this " Media vita in morte sumus" stuff. Not really any new words, to be honest.  As I wrote to a friend, at times I just feel like I want to run and run and run, never stopping, not coming back. Except I can't do that... ...so while there's moonlight and music and (please let there be)... Heard this courtesy of Rough Trade's 'Counter Culture' playlist (on Spotify), the home of cool, happenin' sounds for the painfully hip... Pretty much hooked from the opening sounds, hooked by the voice, the rhythm, the tune, and the undercurrent of melancholy contrasting with the upbeat bass line. It may be a throwaway pop/dance tune, but that is what life needs, a constant supply of fresh new disposable joy...

On the one hand I have heard three new songs that have brought some light into the darkness. This is one of them. On the other hand it has been confirmed that what I have observed and feared was happening is, sadly, real, and is what is happening, which brings more darkness into the darkness. I suppose I should count myself lucky. Not everyone gets time in which to say goodbye.  Nor do they get time to come to terms with losing a loved one. Right now I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing. It just is a thing. Media vita in morte sumus. {Divert brain...} I have been circling Ibibio Sound Machine for a year or more.  I've heard songs of theirs I've liked, and they've registered but not stuck. 'Guess We Found A Way', however, has found a way into my brain and its words are intermingled with my feelings about the above, in ways which I hadn't intended or seen when I first heard the song.

Sometimes it's hard to accept something even though it is there in plain sight. Maybe you don't want to acknowledge what is there because it is too painful, or perhaps in accepting it you must change your life to accommodate it and also make others aware of what has been revealed to you. Part of you hopes that by not addressing it, it will not happen or it will take longer.  The trouble is dealing with it later may be harder, more painful, even more difficult to process and come to terms with.  So it must be confronted.  It is unavoidable. It is happening.   Only the speed at which it is happening is uncertain. Sometimes fast, sometimes slower. The direction of travel is the same for all of us, only the speed with which time's arrow travels and what remains of the flight are different.

Having the word "Young" or "Youth" in your band name can end up seeming like some kind of cruel joke, especially if the band has any longevity.  Imagine if the Rolling Stones had been "The Young Stones" or "Rolling Stones Youth"? Their latest retirement tour would sound even more ironic. So to The Young Gods. I was alerted to their return by an interview in the latest issue of ' Electronic Sound ' (issue 51, for anyone that is interested). I have always had a soft spot for them: the relentless drum sound, the breakneck guitar samples, Franz Treichler's dulcet vocals and the unpredictable nature of their albums - compare 'L'Amourir' above with the accordion-sampling 'La Fille De La Mort' below, both tracks from the album 'L'Eau Rouge' Back after a 9 year hiatus, what do they have to offer today? On first listening their latest album, 'Data Mirage Tangram', sounds a little slow,

I love this song.  It was the second song I heard by Vendredi Sur Mer (not that it matters, but the first was 'Chewing Gum'). Having heard those songs I've had to track down everything I can by her... Her first full length album, 'Premiers émois', is due out in just over a week and looks like it will be the album to break her into the big time.   Time to put on those dancing shoes...

Not sure how I came to listen to this today? I think it was a suggested song when I listened to something else, though not something from this album nor by Todd. It is, however, one of my favourite songs from one of my favourite albums ('Todd'). The title of this post are from the song's lyrics - one of my favourite couplets from any song. I could write reams about the song's structure (tentative beginning, slow build etc etc) the instrumentation, the way Todd uses his voice as an instrument, but today the song can speak for itself. [In the context of the song, 'kill yourself' could be read as in the meaning of the tarot card 'Death', as in learning and change, for those who may be concerned]

Mark Hollis, of Talk Talk, has died. I didn't know him. I didn't see him or Talk Talk perform live.  In fact I know little about him other than what is there for anyone to see and hear on his albums with Talk Talk and his self-titled solo album. I love 'Spirit of Eden', from which 'I Believe In You' comes.  It is an album that rewards repeated listens. It is a gentle album bursting with ideas and with its own singular vision.  Every time you listen to it, you hear something you've not heard before. It's not a rock album or a dance album or anything else so easily boxed and filed.  It is itself and demands to be listened to on its own terms.  Above all else, though, it is beautiful.  Though he largely retired from the music business after his solo album of 1998, the music he left behind still stands tall today. For the facts and tributes take a look a what the BBC had to say . For a more impassioned view and one that tries to make sens

Live music at South Street Arts centre is always a special experience.  It is such a small setting that every performance there has a real sense of sharing something magical.  On Wednesday evening I saw two performers I'd never seen live before: Kathryn Joseph supported by SHHE. I was introduced to the music of Kathryn Joseph early in the New Year: having heard the album she released in 2018 ('From When I Wake The Want Is' - see earlier post here )  I had to get her debut album too. Bewitched? Entranced? I'm not sure which word comes closest to the way her songs insinuated their way into my brain, but several songs have now taken up residence, so when I saw she was playing in Reading, I had to get tickets... Let's start, however, as the evening did, with SHHE.  I have to confess I had not heard of SHHE before getting tickets for the gig but decided not to listen to anything recorded beforehand so as to listen with open ears on the night. I'm glad I did, it