Very near and very far

Christmas is less than a week away and I’m aware that for a lot of people, slowing down for the holidays is not a pleasurable process. There can be a stalling, rather than a smooth steady slow to stop. It might be that you are finding lots of reasons to keep charging forwards, because the thought of looking back on this year is deeply unappealing. Maybe you don’t want to reflect on what’s behind you because you associate the year with stress and confusion, or worse, trauma and fear. It might be that you have stopped but you feel that it happened too fast, like the screech of brakes preceding a crash. I think it is safe to assume that It’s going to take us a long time to process this year; a year that started with a long lockdown and closed schools, and is ending with the threat of the same. I’ve never experienced a year that has felt so amorphous, as if time was like fog spreading out over a city; with no edges and no end or no beginning. What was 2021 to 2020? It felt to me, like two years moulded into one.

Looking backwards is hard and looking forwards is even harder. Fear is the prevailing reaction when the world around us is in such a state of flux and chaos. It’s as if we’re on a boat in a storm, and the wind is howling and the waves are crashing over the deck. The boat is rocking violently and all we can do is cling on and try not to fall overboard. There’s no time to think about where we’re going next.

So rather than trying to see any sort of a big picture or an overview, I am trying to consume myself with the very near and the very far. I’m trying to keep my head in my physical vicinity, (oh look at the bark on that tree, this chocolate biscuit is banging, the sun is so low it’s nearly blinding, etc), and then counteract that with total escapism; reading, watching and listening to anything that can take me to another place.

This week I’ve enjoyed geeking out on Spotify building a big Wintery playlist to soundtrack the next few months and I’ll share that with you soon. For now I wanted to share some things that have either provided necessary escapism or stirred up my thoughts and feelings in a positive way at the end of this strange and tumultuous year. I wish you a peaceful break. Remember. Turn off your social media. Look right in front of you. Stay in the room. Then escape. Take care x

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‍Cleo Sol - Mother LP‍

This is gorgeous, understated, modern soul music. I have been listening to this album a lot, having come to it late after it’s release back at the end of Summer 2021. You might know Cleo Sol from her contributions to Little Simz or Sault albums, or maybe you know her debut album Rose In The Dark. Mother is produced by In Flo, a producer who with his work on the above artist’s albums, has a seemingly effortless ability to create soul soundscapes that feel both nostalgic and futuristic at the same time. It’s all live instrumentation, with Cleo’s effortless voice, never over stretched or over singing, given extra sonic impact when needed with the use of a choir. The songs swell and surge and groove along. The cover shows Cleo, tracksuited, lying back on a sofa, holding a tiny newborn baby to her chest. The lyrics, as I interpreted them, are about both being mothered, and becoming a mother for the first time, Cleo sings words of gratitude, empowerment, and protectiveness. The album brought back those feelings I had when I was a new mother, just wonder, and tears, and joy and fear, and most of all, big blown up overwhelming love.

Listen here.

Patrick Hamilton - Hangover Square‍

About a month ago I was sitting at the local public swimming pool with some other parents, watching our kids swim class. I told another parent, a man that I’ve known for years, about my new book and how I was writing lots of pub scenes which involved me exploring the pubs of the Kilburn High Road. He recommended a book called Hangover Square by Patrick Hamilton as a book that depicts pub scenes excellently. So I bought the book and I finished it last night and I’m still buzzing from it. It was so raw and dark and funny and frightening all at once. The book is set in Earls Court, at the end of 1938 and the beginning of 1939, and the threat of war looms over every part of the story. There are so many pubs and so much booze. The drinking involved is relentlessly aggressive. George Harvey Bone, the main protagonist, is a deeply troubled, lonely but kind hearted man, who suffers what he calls ‘dead moods’ where his brain clicks into a kind of fog temporarily. He is drink sodden and blindly and hopelessly infatuated with an odious and manipulative woman called ‘Netta’, and throughout the whole book I was silently screaming at him to WALK AWAY and keep walking but you’ll have to read it to find out if he does or not. It is clear that the writer Patrick Hamilton spent a lot of time drinking or drunk in saloon bars. In reading up about him I learn that the second half of his life was mired by alcoholism. He is a generally under-read and under-rated writer, somewhere between Dickens and Martin Amis according to a quote by Nick Hornby. I loved this book so much.

Whirlybird: Live Above LA‍

A documentary for BBC Storyville - a place I go often when in need of something completely escapist and informative. This doc tells the story of a husband and wife couple who are the first independent journalists in LA to buy a helicopter for the use of news reporting. The wife Marika films and the husband Bob, steers the chopper. Bob is addicted to the adrenalin that comes with chasing news stories, and pursues action relentlessly, to the detriment of his relationship and his family. In telling the story of Bob and Marika’s relationship which is hugely dominated by their work, the documentary shows us the history of LA from the perspective of on high. We see fires, plane crashes, drug busts, the LA Riots, the OJ Simpson car chase, playing out live through Marika’s lens. We see a couple repulsed by the horrors of the world, whose livelihood depends on reporting those horrors. Like all good documentaries this one is multi-layered. From family ties, to gender dysphoria, to the effects of abuse, to the effects of live news reporting on culture, to media intrusion, there are so many things to think about here. And I’m still thinking about it.

Watch it here via BBC player

Midnight Miracles podcast ‍

A podcast brought to you by Dave Chapelle and Talib Kwali and Yasiin Bey otherwise known as Mos Def. As a Rawkus Records fan I was immediately interested in hearing Mos Def and Talib Kwali speak (who remembers the Black Star album?). What’s unique about this pod (which offers 12 episodes, the first one is free, the rest you must pay for via Luminary) is how big a part music plays within it. The conversations are vignettes, woven through incredible song choices so that at times it feels like you are listening to a mixtape. The first episode asks the question how do you persuade someone to want to live, when they are utterly despondent about life? And by the end, after hearing personal anecdotes about Amy Winehouse and Robin Williams, you really really want to live.