Sunday Mornings: Coffee, Reflections and Music

“You don’t update your Facebook page very often, do you?” The tone was not accusatory, but the question asked by my fellow Cuban had the word “curiosity” tattooed all over it. We had bumped into each other in our little patch of London after not seeing one another for a good couple of years. Whereas I had followed the developments in his life quite closely (birth of his second child, his older one growing up healthily, happier times with his wife, disappearance of his wife from photos, new “home setting" in photos), he had not been able to do the same with my life. The reason behind it, as I came to realise after our conversation was that I treat my social media like my e-mail accounts. I go to them only when I need them and I never divulge too much information, especially of the personal kind.

Facebook: still like a "normal" e-mail to me

We live in such dynamic, interconnected times that we tend to assume everyone else is equally prompt at updating online profiles and posting photos of family gatherings. Some of us do not. But whereas you will find people who actively rebel against the “tyranny of social media”, I am just a procrastinator. That is just a very posh way of saying that I am a lazy sod and can’t be arsed to check my Facebook wall or my Twitter feed. The latter gets a look-in every time I publish a post. Facebook, on the other hand, only gets irregular visits. I guess Mark Zuckerberg will be knocking on my front door soon. Just to make you aware of my laziness when it comes to interactive social platforms, I do not even have the Facebook or Twitter app on my smartphone. So, no “pinging” for me.

This unusual behaviour – as measured by modern life standards – has spilled onto other territories. Take reading, for instance. I am an avid reader as you all know and yet I got a headache the other day after reading a column in Prospect by the writer Sam Leith. Sam has just been appointed as one of the judges of this year’s Man Booker Prize. He is supposed to read approximately 150 books. 150 books! Sam Leith, a man who makes a living out of writing book reviews is supposed to read around 150 books. Please, pass me the smelling salts, I’m about to pass out. As much as I love reading I could never do it as job. Not that I will ever be eligible anyway. First off, as I mentioned before I would have to confront my own laziness (other people would call it “pace”). I like reading in my own time and when I feel like it. Secondly, if I were one of the participating writers I would never trust someone like me to judge my book.

150 books approximately. I’m still thinking about it and I’ve got a couple of Paracetamols in my hand. And still my friend queries my Facebook status.

News that the Church of England is debating whether to have a baptism of service without mentioning the devil or not, put a smile on my face. I can just imagine our horned friend marching up to the nearest job centre, queueing up and meeting one of the much-feared advisors whose main role is “to get people off benefits and into work” (by whatever means possible, even if the means do not justify the end). I can just picture pumped-up, face-turning-puce Mephistopheles holding forth, chest out, shouting out the predictable question: Do you know who I am? And an unimpressed advisor answering: No, but that attitude will not get you very far, sir. Following this exchange, the usual protocol will ensue with questions about the devil’s current status (unemployed and unemployable, according to the church), previous work experience (“last job was with HSBC’s Swiss private bank but that one didn't go very well”) and ambitions (“to take over the world, both this one and the ‘other’ one”).

By the time Satan signs on, he will find out exactly how much he’s yet to learn from the Department for Work and Pensions and its inscrutable, tough-looking, soulless army of IDS clones. The Church of England needn’t debate about mentioning the devil in its liturgy. After his first visit to a job centre, it is very likely the devil himself will change his name and career.



© 2015

Next Post: “Food, Music, Food, Music, Food, Music... Ad Infinitum”, to be published on Wednesday 18^th February at 11:59pm (GMT)

Killer Opening Songs (Massive Attack - Safe From Harm)

The other day Killer Opening Songs was walking around Holborn, central London, looking for a pair of long Lycra trousers to wear whilst cycling (it's getting a bit nippy in the morning these days, although it does warm up in the afternoon) when it saw a song stumbling out of a pub (or cafe, it could not tell). It was an old melody, but my God, had it not scrubbed up well despite the years! On recognising it K.O.S. put its arm around its neck and invited it to accompany it to the bike shop.

There are songs that tumble into our lives serendipitously; they arrive unbidden and unsolicited. We might have the aptitude to make them appear as if by magic every now and then through our constant exposure to music, but the fortuitous encounter never fails to surprise the listener. And when they do arrive, we take a long walk with them, just as we would do with an old friend.

'Safe from Harm' is one of those melodies. The Killer Opening Song from Massive Attack's debut album, 'Blue Lines' (1991), this is a track that combines understated beats with very deftly musical arrangements to convey the despair and loneliness of a generation bearing the brunt of the Thatcher years. Words like 'Midnight ronkers/City slickers/Gunmen and maniacs/All will feature on the freakshow/And I can't do nothing 'bout that, no/But if you hurt what's mine/I'll sure as hell retaliate' express the dog-eat-dog society Britain had become by then. Shara Nelson's melancholy voice renders the song a soulful plea for understanding (You can free the world you can free my mind/Just as long as my baby's safe from harm tonight) whilst 3D's rapping brings a powerful dose of reality and paranoia to the track (I was lookin' back to see if you were lookin' back at me/To see me lookin' back at you).

Although other artists like Tricky and Portishead established Bristol as a hotbed of creativity, it was Massive Attack with 'Blue Lines' that provided the blueprint for what later became know as trip-hop' and 'Safe from Harm' was the Killer Opening Song that started it all. Enjoy.





Copyright 2008

Road Songs (Largo)

Speed. It kills, doesn't it? That's pretty clear to me. So, why is it that when you are driving your car you can accelerate up to 100 - 120 miles per hour, if you so wish, even if the speed limit is 70mph on a motorway? That question has always baffled me, so if any of you has the answer, please, send it to me in a nice envelope with the Royal seal on it.

I sometimes go over the speed limit, but overall tend to drive slowly and defensively. The fact is that I love driving, I love going round bends as slowly as I can and soak up the perfection of a smooth turning.

Same with music. In my teens when I started to listen to rock'n'roll I realised little by little that as the 60s became the 70s and the 70s mutated into the 80s the music had at the same time turned faster. I stopped at Metallica. Slayer and the others who followed were too fast for me and my ears.

There is nothing more enjoyable than a song where the bass guitar kicks in nicely and rhythmically setting the mood for the entire piece, or where the lead singer will ease the whole band into a groove with a wave of his or her hand, in the same way a conductor does it with an orchestra. Music and driving are two pleasures that should be enjoyed without rushing the outcome. Could you imagine someone in a theatre belting out bang in the middle of a stage version of Hamlet: 'C'mon, mate, hurry up, when are you going to say the 'to be or not to be' soliloquy'? Me neither.

The songs that follow are unique in the sense that I am able to appreciate their full richness and beauty by means of the patience and focus shown by their performers. None of which is achieved by running around like a headless chicken.

Copyright 2008