Friday, 4 July 2025

Dipping a Toe in The Gulf of Americana

 

I started this blog over two weeks ago and then managed to lose it all (fat finger syndrome), so re-started it, As with almost everything I do, it soon took on a different, and much longer, meandering path. It may be continued, although I think I've covered the main players in my Americana. (I might add more later).

Although no one in my family has ever played a musical instrument (I did try to play piano for a month, or so) I was brought up with music. I can’t remember how young I was when my mother taught me the words to ‘This Land is Your Land’, words that established my general political views well before I was 10! It was several years before I made the connection with Woodie Guthrie, who wrote the song.

I don’t intend to cover all the musical influences in my youth – I think I’ll write another post on The Everly Brothers, Adam Faith and the late 50’s/very early 60’s, if I can remember enough. Here I want to focus on a genre that has become important with age.

Through an elder brother, the arrival of Bob Dylan’s first LP in ’62 introduced me to a raw American folk to replace the more commercialised folk in his collection of The Kingston Trio, the Weavers, and Peter, Paul and Mary. The Clancy Brothers with Tommy Maken in their Aran sweaters, seemed to sum up the influence of commercialism; I have since revisited them all with more wisdom. But Dylan - talk about “blowing the bloody doors off”! The music, together with an introduction to ‘alternative’ literature*, hit me as strongly as testosterone did. I saw the world ‘differently’ and probably became a pain in the butt for my parents for some years, whose ‘liberal’ views appeared to come through a relaxed wealth rather than conviction.

* I had moved from Dracula to Camus and Genet. 

Then a couple of years later, there were The Stones and the blues-orientated rock, which was my preference, although I had time enough for the ‘Liverpool Sound’ and soon afterwards I met Pauline, with whom I did buy Beatles LPs.

Blues Influence and Change of Direction 

Back to the influence of Dylan and Guthrie: I started picking up bits and pieces of American music, from ‘Cisco Houston, Ramblin’ Jack Elliot through to the blues of Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee. I even traced back to Blind Lemon Jefferson and  Robert Johnson’s Cross Road Blues as well as Champion Jack Dupree, all of which cemented an interest in blues, rather than rock. At that time the UK music scene was exploding, but again that isn’t what this piece is about, so I’m even zipping past John Mayall.

From the late ‘60s rock and pop music became a widespread cultural force throughout the world. With our move to Germany in early ’77, the music we were exposed to was mainly that supplied by American Forces Network (AFN). I did get to some interesting gigs in the UK just before we left and on returns, but again, they’re for another time.

By the time we returned to the UK, pop music had gone somewhere that didn’t interest me (there may be the odd exception) and I was using the Britannia Music Club to find out more about classical music – it was a wonderland, and I’ve never looked back! 

Actions Speaking Louder Than Words

Then there’s a memory gap – these were tumultuous years of house buying, moving, of deaths in the family, jobs found, and jobs lost and a new career being forged. So, I’m not sure where the influence came from, but the old interests started to return, and Americana appeared … I recall being familiar enough with Cajun music that I was stomping to it in a Glasgow pub in ’93.

In ’94 I bought ‘The Pearl’ by Phil Cunningham and Aly Bain who we saw sometime at the Gulbenkian, Canterbury (a theatre that also provided us with an evening of Stephan Grappelli). I have to admit that despite Phil Cunningham’s ability, I never could really get on with his style of accordion playing, it is just too mellifluous, but the connection with Aly Bain was important as in 1995, The Transatlantic Sessions started, and the door was opened to wider Americana.

The people featured below, except for Iris DeMent, are all dead, before their time. 

Iris DeMent 

From The Transatlantic Sessions I took Iris DeMent, a singer with a unique voice, to heart. ‘Our Town’ closed the final series of ‘Northern Exposure’ and, even more powerfully, she sang the Carter Burwell song at the end of the Coen Brothers excellent version of ‘True Grit’. Singing quite a lot of gospel, she can test my atheist patience but ‘When My Mornin’ Comes Around’ has an extremely powerful sentiment for me, and ‘Easy’s Getting’ Harder Every Day’ is very evocative of a poor woman’s existence in the Midwest.

Iris DeMent, John Prine and Nanci Griffith 

A lighter side of Iris DeMent is here with the John Prine - 'In Spite Of Ourselves'. John Prine was regarded highly for his song writing and 'Paradise' from his first album (1971!) harks back to the style of Woody. He also sang about Vietnam vets ...'Sam Stone'. Among his songs is one sung with Nanci Griffith - 'Speed of The Sound of Loneliness'. I knew of Nanci from Transatlantic Sessions and was lucky enough to see her in 2012 (she was a little croaky, she had been having treatment for thyroid cancer). She wrote lovingly of the smell of a Woolworth’s Store when visiting London!

Nanci Griffith, Townes Van Zandt, Kate Wolf

 It was looking at the writers of songs that increased my contact with Americana. ‘The Cowboy’s Lament’ was slightly different. Featured on Nanci’s album 'Other Voices, Other Rooms' it had Don Edwards yodelling and following his name, I took a little trip into cowboy music (but not ‘Home On The Range’ which seems to run counter to ‘This Land is Your Land’, especially in John Lomax’s ’red man’ version). Another writer on Nanci's album was Townes Van Zandt and 'Tecumseh Valley' stood out. Townes was a very talented songwriter, who lived a troubled existence. One of his best known songs is 'Pancho and Lefty' but 'Nothin'' seems to sum up an inner melancholy. Another writer I discovered through Nanci Griffith was Kate Wolf - here 'Across The Great Divide' sung by Nanci and Emylou Harris. Kate Wolf wrote some great songs. One, perhaps bookending John Prine's 'Paradise' is 'Old Jerome'.

Remembrance 

There are two songs of Kate's that have special meaning for me. They date from when I was caring for Barbara. The more poignant, which came on purely at random while I was driving home from her funeral was 'Shadow of a Life'. It was and remains my farewell to Barbara.

The last concert I saw with Pauline was Sharon Shannon at Colchester, so here's Sharon playing with John Prine and Mary Staunton singing one of John's songs 'Love, Love, Love' - my burn scars proudly define me.

(Apologies to anyone mad enough to read this for any grammar, link errors etc. they'll be corrected later, but I have dresses to pack!) 

 

 

Friday, 27 June 2025

A Musical Meander based on 1975 and These Days

This morning I read about a group 'The 1975' appearing at Glasto. Was this coincidence with some stuff I wrote last night? I'd never heard of 'The 1975' and my head is currently sufficiently full of music (while writing this update, I've just finished Philip Glass' 'Mad Rush' and now have Max Richter's 'On The Nature of Daylight (Entropy) 2018 version' playing) so I doubt I'll chase 'The 1975', at least for now.

Last night, I had happened upon a programme that led to my fingers whiling away time on the laptop keyboard until late at night. The programme was about about surgery for facelifts, tummy tucks, saggy arm lifts etc. Fascinating, I thought, and if I had the money required ... I would buy a Maserati. So, it was clearly time to switch off the TV and check emails to the backdrop of youtube. This is when my 1975 thoughts sprang up!

It was the opener on youtube - Fripp and Eno with 'Evening Star' from 1975. Can one 'love' electronic music? Back to Eno - I had (and still have) tremendous admiration for Brian Eno, not as much from Roxy Music time, although they were very good at arty rock, but from building what is called ambient music - music for airports etc. I think BBC's Arena arts prog still uses 'Another Green World' which, while pre-ambient, is not dissimilar, and it's from 1975 again! And Robert Fripp ... coming from King Crimson which, although appearing initially, from The Court of The Crimson King, as yet another progressive rock/heavy metal group, sounded a revolt against the plague of metal spreading in the late '60s (although it did suffer some of the pretentiousness of that era). He's done some good stuff. I play Evening Star often - I never tire of it.

1975: that date, meaning little in itself (for now), reminded me of other dates, and reading about somebody who was born only a couple of months before me. So I'm heading away from '75 to '48, the year I was born, as was Brian Eno  and the writer of These Days.

While in '64 I was 16 and a teenager going out with my first girl friend, Jackson Browne, just two months older than me, was writing 'These Days' - a song that retains a timelessness to it. Youtube have an excellent copy of him performing it with the equally excellent David Lindley (a sad loss) at the Philadelphia Folk Festival in '96 . Annoyingly for me (and it will be at least until the end of time), in '06 I was walking about in the Picos de Europa in the Asturias at the very same time that Jackson Browne and David Lindley were appearing in the capital, Oviedo, and I wasn't aware! The prices of air tickets back then were such I could have flown out there from Gatwick just for the concert, but I was just a few miles away! The concert featured a singer, Luz Casal, who went against her usual repetoire to sing 'These Days' - a delicate version which I play quite often. It would be wrong to finish this reprise of JB's song without going back to the Greg Allman original version, although here done later as a duet with  JB (including the backstory). JB has said he thought Greg Allman's version with its slight, but important word change at the very end changed the song for the better. I was a fan of the Allman Bros - I have their first two albums, and petrolheads will remember Jessica . It was a shock when Duane got killed so early on. But, when mentioning the Allman Bros, apart from Duane and Greg, the guitar playing owed much to Dickey Betts.

Now, if only I'd written 'These Days' ... I could afford the Maserati and the surgery, and then some!

Back to this week and 1975. Composer of the week On BBC R3 is Gavin Bryars. His music is very interesting and in the last year I've heard, on several occasions, a piece of something entirely different from anything I've ever heard before in my life. It was originally recorded back in 1975 on Brian Eno's 'Obscure Records' record label. Initially, possibly a difficult listen for several minutes, it becomes a 24 minute mantra. This original version has Michael Nyman on organ and Derek Bailey on guitar - Jesus' Blood Never Failed Me Yet but there is also a later version here with an extensive 'sleeve' note by Gavin Bryars about the origin of the music and the words, sung by a homeless man.

This completes the meandering 24 hour loop around my mind of the music associated with 1975. That year also saw the emergence of Talkin' Heads and The Sex Pistols ... that's someone else's story.

Update 30/06:

I've become aware over the last few days that my music posts have changed a little to reflect my listening history. I've never kept a diary and using the musical interludes in my life bring those times alive. I found that immediately I finished this post, I started on another, on Americana! (Neurodiversity and the rest just have to wait). As I said to a friend just yesterday, I don't have anyone to sit and reminisce with, so I reminisce with my blog ...and, heaven forfend, it doesn't contradict me! So, if these reminisces become very introspective, too bad, I'm covering nigh on 70 years of my life!

 

Sunday, 22 June 2025

A WEEK IN IRELAND

 Following my Christmas stay with Pamela and Mary, I returned in early March. Pamela was due to have an operation at the end of May and it seemed a fortuitous time given that Stena had offered a 50% discount on sailings following the closure of Holyhead through Christmas. At Christmas we had hoped to have a night away in the Irish Midlands, but that didn't come about, so that was planned by Pamela for this trip.

As I normally do, I drove to Holyhead on the Sunday, 9th March, and spent the night there before getting the morning ferry to Dublin.  

                              Coming into Dublin Port

That would ensure that I arrived in Dundalk in time for tea. As it happened, Pamela asked me to drive her to Dunne's supermarket as her knee (the subject of the proposed, but again delayed operation) was bad. That done, it was repacking for me ... two nights away in two different hotels, completely en femme. We were to be joined by Debbie who I had met in 2022 and we would take two cars for convenience. So it was that we left in convoy on 11th March ... with our first tea stop in mind!

IF IT'S TUESDAY ... IT'S SLANE, BECTIVE ABBEY AND TRIM

I took Pamela in my car, while Debbie took Mary and we headed to Slane and the Conyngham Arms Hotel for tea, scones (for some, not me, I've enough weight) and stretching of legs. Oh, and pictures, of course!

Me, Debbie and Pamela in the Function Room at the Conyngham Arms Hotel

The others had been to the hotel before and were warmly welcomed. This approach was to be repeated throughout our time away and when we visited somewhere completely new, it was at times difficult to pull ourselves away from chatting with staff! 


Bective Abbey

Bective Abbey was chosen as a location for more photos, although I am as interested in the history as anything and this was a good introduction to the central Ireland. Bective is in Co. Meath - a daughter house to Mellifont Abbey which I finally visited at Christmas! Bective was founded 1147 although the remains today probably date from the 13th to 15th centuries.


After leaving Bective Abbey we headed West towards Trim, where we stayed the night at Trim Castle Hotel. The hotel is right next to Trim Castle and my room looked out on the Keep. Debbie did suggest we might have a walk around the castle, but all the travelling had taken its toll on me by now and I preferred to relax in the hotel.

The Keep at Trim Castle is the highest in Ireland and this had a nice resonance with me as I see Dover Castle Keep (the highest in the UK) almost everyday! 



Trim Castle      

 We had cocktails, posed for photos and then ate at the hotel, which was very pleasant. Well rested, we met at breakfast the enxt morning in preparation for the next leg of our journey. Debbie and Mary were going to Athlone for shopping while Pamela and I were heading south of Athlone to Clonmacnoise Monastery on the River Shannon. But first Pamela needed tea and scones! That was a bit of a struggle as none of us knew the area. I checked tripadvisor for Kinnegad, only to be directed to place that was permanently closed. Luckily, Debbie found a bar, Brackens, along the road and we went there. 

Pamela and I then headed off to the monastery across the boggy central part of Ireland via the Esker Riada - a glacial feature (more to be found here ). The monastery seemed a tricky place to find as there were no signs until we were there! The staff at the entrance were great fun and informative. The monastery was one of the earliest and most important centres of Irish Catholicism, dating from the 6th C.  

 One of two of the Round Towers at Clonmacnoise Monastery with the Shannon in the background


The more complete Round Tower

The site also has a theatre for showing a fine video of the development of the monastery as well as a museum with high crosses and other stonework. I must admit that I found the high crosses at Monasterboice were more powerful, partly because of their imagery, but also they were 'in situ' whereas at Clonmacnoise a replica is placed outside the abbey.


Also, nearby are the remains of the Anglo-Norman Clonmacnoise Castle. The castle is curious as it was a stone keep built to replace an earlier wooden keep within the traditional 'motte and bailey' design. During the14th C 'gaelic resistance' the keep was undermined and now sits, toppled, on top of the motte.

 Clonmacnoise Castle with the River Shannon beyond 


 As with Trim Castle, a short visit begs for more. 

WEDNESDAY AND HEADING BACK TO DUNDALK VIA BECTIVE TEAROOMS


I shall not dwell on finding our hotel at Athlone ... except to say it wasn't in Athlone, it was on a business park outside the town and didn't live up to our expectations (which, after Trim, were quite high!) 

The next morning after breakfast it was time to head back. By this time Debbie had checked distances and we settled on stopping at Kilbeggan for morning tea/coffee/scones. The cafe was was clearly there just for locals, but as with everywhere else, no one turned a hair at three Tgirls. Then it was onto lunch! The others had been to Bective tearooms before and it was ideal. The cafe there was full but they had 'covid' pods outside and we took one over. 



Then it was back to Dundalk. I can't express my thanks enough to Pamela and Mary, and also Debbie, for making these three days 'en femme' so enjoyable.

I should say that I arrived on Monday and it was now Thursday with still a few days to spend in and around Dundalk. I've curtailed this a bit as it's three months later and soon I shall be back on the ferry across the Irish Sea, but there are more pictures of our few days on flickr. 

Now, the planning for the next adventure begins! 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

 

 

 

 

 




 



Thursday, 19 June 2025

a Quick Prattle About This and That

 My friend Deeanna has done a wonderful job on descaling my memory about music. Yesterday, there was a piece in The Guardian about Genesis P-Orridge. I could hear the chalky scales falling to the bottom of my skull. Was it 'Throbbing Gristle' I had seen in '78 ???  I knew that I'd seen Nico with another performer at The Marquee (Wardour St, London). A quick internet search reminded me that it was Pere Ubu on the same stage as when I saw Nico, and then it clicked ... Throbbing Gristle were also seen at the Marquee, but left no impression ... 

The back story is that while I lived in Germany, I returned to the UK quite often between '77 and '80 as I still had use of a flat that a friend was renting from my father. The friend was into experimental music (he even had the early VU album with the banana ... still (and I hope, forever) unpeeled!!! So it was that on a trip (or trips) back to the UK, I saw Throbbing Gristle and then Pere Ubu (neither left a lasting impression), but Nico!!! She was playing a harmonium gifted by Patti Smith. She was Nico ... end of ... except that when she sang, in her low monotone, Deutschland Uber Alles ... some in the audience did not understand the irony and cans were thrown ... using my co-country lingo ... eejits! 

It's a strange world ... I wrote the above while listening to the Prelude to Tristan und Isolde ... how tastes move on!


Friday, 13 June 2025

Finsbury Park Astoria 66-68 and RIP Brian Wilson, Inventor of the 'Surf' Sound.

 Another blog interruption, this time brought about by the death of Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys.

The Finsbury Park Astoria on Seven Sisters Road was a major venue in North London, on a par, I think, with the Golders Green Hippodrome. The main thing I remember about it is how easy it was to park nearby on Seven Sisters Road (how times have changed).

I'm not sure how many concerts we went to there but we never saw the Beatles. We would have seen The Who in '66. I recall little of that concert apart from 'My Generation' and Pete Townsend smashing a guitar into his Marshall amps. 

We saw Jimi Hendrix in March '67 as part of a tour with the Walker Brothers, Cat Stevens and, even, Englebert Humperdink! But memories of Jimi feature far more frequently from Sunday Nights At The Saville.

One thing I'm certain of is seeing Otis Redding sitting on the edge of the stage while singing 'Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay'during the Stax Road Tour (as I recall us calling it) in '67. That was one of those concerts that becomes part of your DNA. There is a pretty good description of the evening here although I think we went to the 2nd performance as I don't recall any police being present. What was brilliant, however, was when groups of black guys got up during Sam and Dave's slot and started dancing in the isles!

Then, in December '68, we went to the Beach Boys European Road Tour - I even enticed my sister and brother-in-law along. For me the Beach Boys were an important 'node' in my musical development but the Californian surf sound was already being replaced by the West Coast psychedelia and anti-Vietnam motifs by the time they toured in '68. Still, I enjoyed the concert and I do have a couple of Beach Boys LPs from that time.

Brian Wilson, who passed away recently, was the inventor of the 'surf' sound and is highly praised for his innovative work as a musician and the word 'genius' is not misplaced (although he was not alone in this).

Monday, 26 May 2025

Travelling the World in Music , continued, An Iberian Interlude

As a Tgirl, if I were to look in the mirror ... shall I compare thee to a Summer's day? No, I'm old and tired and my head resembles a jeroboam of old 'firne' wine of poor provenance that is now uncorked and gushing never-ending verbiage all over this blog! The 'Travelling the World in Music' theme has been fun and helpful and continues. 

Although I do want to write seriously on a couple of themes - post SCJ sex, and a wider look at 'neurodiversity' and deviation from the statistical 'norm', I find the fizzing of the gushing verbiage renders my powers of concentration limited, so I'm returning to music. And here is a 'cold collation' to go with that old wine, based around memories of fado.

Praia de Luz, Portugal, 1972

 Fado is a form of music from Portugal, particularly Lisbon dating back to the early 19th C. It is music much associated with the concept of 'saudade' which has no direct English translation but is about yearning and while it would be easy for me to slip into bathos at this time, the music here doesn't take me there, instead it takes me fishing.

Midtown Marbella 1972

This story begins in Spain, not Portugal, in the early 1970's when, while on a trip to Andalucia, an ex-pat friend took me to a tiny bar behind what was then the small town of Marbella (!) where locals were gathering to listen a couple of guys playing flamenco guitar. I can't remember the music but the atmosphere was electrifying and I became an aficiando of flamenco. Around the same time, in the hope that what worked in Spain also worked in Portugal, I listened to some fado, but thought it rather dull in comparison.

 

View from the Alhambra 1971
 

 

A propos of nothing else in this post, Pauline and I had already had the luck to visit the Alhambra in Granada and that's where the music starts now, acknowledging Spain for getting me to fado, if not 'into' it, with Francisco Tárrega - Memories of Alhambra (also I like the music). A different bit of Spain appears shortly.

 

Praia de Luz, Portugal 1972

  All was quiet on the Iberian front for us for many years afterwards: Salazar's regime in Portugal finished and in Spain Franco died. Then one year we saw that Portuguese was being taught at Kent Adult Ed and we decided to sign up. Another member of the class then introduced us and the tutor to Mariza, who had released her first album. Her fado was not the fado that I remembered and had no time for, or perhaps my appreciation of the concept of saudade had grown. In the following years we saw Mariza in London, Brighton and Bruges. This is a concert, much later, in Lisbon and the song is*Maria Lisboa, describing the dress and manner of a fishwife (who is actually Lisbon city itself and the song a celebration of the city). (* The original link didn't work so I've renewed it).

From Frank Meadows Sutcliffe, Whitby

I couldn't find a suitable older picture of a fishwife from southern Europe, so have borrowed this one from the Frank Meadows Sutcliffe collection of Whitby. It is curious that Maria Lisboa and Molly Malone (Dublin) are considered emblems of their respective cities. Anyway, Maria Lisboa links directly to one of the fados I enjoy most, here performed by Cristina Branco - Meu amor é marinheiro (My love is a sailor). This song can also be found in Galician, by Fuxan Os Ventos - in a more sentimental version?

 

In the 2000's I spent some time in northern Spain, the autonomous region of Galicia - I wanted to visit Fisterra/Finisterre (it has always sounded so much more romantic than Land's End) and experience the Costa da Morte - the Coast of Death. The previous song, in its Portuguese and Galician versions highlights the connection of fado from Portugal to Galicia and reinforces the connection between saudade and the sea, and this continues, but after a further interlude.

The Galician scenery is good, although dominated in places by forests of Eucalypts, grown for pulping. Various routes of the Camino de Santago run through it and as Franco hated it, it remained one of the least developed regions of Spain. Galicia and Asturias are historically linked to the Celtic nations. This can be seen through hillforts in the regions and, possibly, a reverence for ancient Yew trees (that may be a fanciful idea of my own!) Some folk groups, particularly in Galicia, reflect on the Celtic link. The Leabhar Gabhála Éireann, known in English as The Book of Invasions, is an Irish collection of Christian-promulgated myths concerning the settlement in Ireland by the Milesians, who came over the sea from Iberia. To avoid wandering too much away from fado, here is music by Luar na Lubre together with a short story of the title of the tune, Leabhar Gabhála (Torre de Breoghán).

Back to fado - in parallel to enjoying that music, I had come across the music of Cape Verde (through the same loose link that I came across the Malian singer Rokia Traore - mentioned in the earlier 'music' post) and in my never-ending ignorance (rather than my verbiage) at the time I directly linked the type of song - morna - of Cape Verde with fado. It seems more than likely now that there is no direct link except a possible colonial one (even, perhaps, from an earlier African source and thence to Portugal). However, here is a link between sodade (CV) and saudade (Port. & Gal.) in this song Mar E Morada De Sodade which roughly translates as 'The sea is the home of sodade' by Cesária Évora, who we saw about 25 years ago in Bruges. By then she had given up smoking on stage, but still appeared barefoot with a large glass of whisky - she had a fabulous voice.

 
So, fishing? The UK/EU Reset has done the UK fishing fleet no favours. In the grander scheme of things, it can be seen as a pawn to be sacrificed for the greater access of UK agriculture to the EU, but the social cost of fishing across Europe is one every country should remember. The Costa da Morte was not so-named for no reason:

 

 

Just to finish ... 

Cesária Évora again, with cigarette and bare feet  ... Sodade

Saturday, 24 May 2025

A Bad Week

I've been doing well with avoiding maudlin music but this week has been hard and next week will be worse. It was on the Wednesday of this week, last year, that an ambulance nurse hugged me (my stoicism had been fine until then) after she and her colleague spoke gently of EOL and we agreed to call the Frailty Team to come and visit at home rather than have Pauline go to hospital.

I'm not going to shy away from this - memory is so important - so, for Pauline, her favourite piece of music - Wedding Day at Troldhaugen - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PDnDFvEl0Mc.

I should still be posting these coming days but, with luck, on more mundane things.

 WAIT ... I can't stop there, and Pauline wouldn't want me to. The last concert we went to was Sharon Shannon ... so here's a reprise of an earlier tune, but this time a set up in Galway with Mundy ... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SNs0vKDvs0g.

Saturday, 17 May 2025

Travelling the World in Music

 I don't know ... is this a stupid post? I listen to quite a lot of youtube (it's easier than anything else and it opens a world for discovery) and it occurred to me tonight that when youtube do that thing of playing 'your playlist' or whatever it's called (I really don't want to understand) I realise that the music comes from all times and from all over the world.

Without holding back, two bereavements of loved ones in less than ten years lends the playlist a melancholy air, but since days of 1960's youth, I have veered towards the contemplative side of music rather than the exuberant (with notable exceptions).

I have no one to share with and I don't think it does my mental health much good to continually immerse myself in art that draws out the sadness that humans experience with just a glass of something, late at night. So, what to do?

My friend Deeanna has recently started a blog and has written down the music she and her wife have on during the week. It occurred to me that it might be theraputic for me to do something similar to, perhaps, break through that youtube playlist. How?

My musical taste is global. So, whether it works or not, I'm going global with posting links to youtube.

My first is https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PtmmlOQnTXM as it's something I've known for a while and it came up as I was looking for a tune I know from Angola (OK it's Gambian, but there's a whole world out there and I shall be returning to more Kora music!)

Listening to that and knowing this may be read by one or two people has already lifted me and I'm going to finish with https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_7-PM_4aeE4 for tonight ...

 Anyone reading this - please feel free to pop in a tune or two. 

But don't be surprised if I remove this in a day or so... I'm a very private person.

Day #1 of the new regime! So far, no difficulties in bypassing old favourites. I enjoyed Beethoven's Pastoral (possibly the first classical music I was exposed to, but no doubt later memories will correct that!) and I've played a lot more Sona Jobareth ... just annoyed that I missed her appearing in London recently! She reminds me of  Rokia Traoré from Mali who I came across years ago when I was expanding my interest in music which 'might have' links to Cabo Verde (I adore Fado expressed through Saudade and its CV variety Morna ... but that's all music about longing and I can't be playing that until I've rebalanced my playlist). I know what will come later tonight if I'm too awake/bored to go to bed ... I'm off to Crete as someone has been posting photos of where I used to go in happier times. It's not about longing, but going home; and I might just touch upon Van Morrison (he's tricky - the last concert Pauline and I went to was his in Brighton) for a tune that takes me back to waking up in my camper van at a beautiful sunrise on the Col de Vars, ready for a first day of alpine botanising back in '84.

On hold now while I avoid Eurovision by indulging in movies. Back later. And now, later, as Pagliacci's finished on 'The Untouchables' (bye bye Sean Connery) a film that I fondly remember for de Niro's acknowledgement to Rod Steiger (On The Waterfront) and, of course, the recreation of the station stairs lifted from Eisenstein's 'Battleship Potemkin' (and there will be others that I don't instantly recognize), it's time  ... no late night tonight, but when I linked to Nikos Xylouris - Venetia, another set came up - so it's a twofer, first Nikos, with a mad conducter, singing about leaving Venice (aka Europe) for home, Crete ... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7og0wA_PlUY and then his relatives carrying on that wonderful tradition of song  ... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1sT_iUaa1lI. But's that's not enough for tonight (well, it is actually, now I'm here, but I did mention Van the Man ... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O_AH5q3-vJg.

Tuesday 20/05 - Catching Up: thanks, Deeanna for your comments, unfortunately this blogger set-up seems unable to allow direct responses by me, so I'm adding them in as part of the blog. Firstly, thanks for your comments regarding being wary of too much melancholia. That fits perfectly with why I think this particular blog is important for me - music is very powerful and just as it can lift one up, it can pull one down and sometimes being down is a drug in itself. Having a naturally sombre playlist doesn't help me!

I know a couple of girls from Dundalk, I'll see what they make of the Mary Wallopers - I found their music fun, lively and interesting, so thanks for the link! There will be much music that I don't know and age plays a role in what I can appreciate as so much of modern music is associated with 'its time' ...my last real contact with UK music was in '77 with The Stranglers and the 'If It Ain't Stiff It Ain't Worth a Fxxk, tour by Stiff Records. I did even have the infamous t-shirt for a while. On that note, time to stop prattling and find something from that time ... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BZLpGVSn3fY with Ian Dury standing outside Axfords, a shop I knew quite well! At this time I had just moved to Germany with Pauline and we were seeing musicians over there - Hall and Oates were the first, I recall, ...

//Interruption from next evening - I always 'play down' Hall and Oates, but they were superb in the concert, it's just a genre that didn't electrify me - this was a time of American soft rock that a friend who lived in the States for several years had brought across to the UK - so here's H&O https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bnVXIUyshng//

 ... but then along many others including Lou Reed (twice), culminating in 1979 ... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=16OBckEhwUM  ... Yes, we were at that concert! ... 

 // Another interruption ... I only got to '79 with Lou Reed, but we saw plenty of other people either in Offenbach, where we lived, or down the road in Frankfurt, including David Bowie on the Low / Heroes Tour and the best  performance I have ever experienced - Bruce Springsteen in 1981 on The River tour ... 3 solid hours of energy ...//

But back to the present ... I now have BBC Radio 3 on day and night and that introduced me to several people, the latest being the Danish String Quartet who seem to be as comfortable playing Nordic/Celtic folk as classical ... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KSVVOHHux1U&list=PLE7iwYprcDgz3GtSb1LjZY51w1FoTg1y_ . That's it for tonight! (and the following evening!)

Monday, 28 April 2025

Quelle Horreur!

 A little interlude between carrying on my as yet unfinished blog on my trip to Ireland a few weeks back and my forthcoming yet to be finished blog on my trip to Cornwall which only starts next Monday!

 So it was that this morning was head hair clipping day. I've no real idea what all the shaving terms are, I can only assume that the settings on my panasonic clipper mean something to someone. What's left of my top I cut on No.11 and the sides on No. 8/9, depending on my mood. Up to the bathroom I go as The Swan From Tuonela plays on Radio 3. Top done (takes no time), I switch combs to get to the 8/9 setting when I realise the radio's off in the bathroom, so I turn, switch it on, turn back and deftly run the clipper along the side of my head ... on setting 1!!! Words inappropriate for this blog spew out and a minute of reflection takes place, before I commit to a No 1 over my whole bonce. All I need now is a St Georges flag and some tats and I can join the lads!

As it happens, this might be quite good ... not only for wigging about when I'm in Cornwall but also for my skin (scalp psoriasis) ... but who is that in the mirror?

Friday, 7 March 2025

PHRASES I LOVE - A Running Thread

 I've decided to have a running thread for phrases which, which while having due respect for the events that triggered them, lifted my eyebrows, if not my spirits, about the wordsmiths unusual (some might say misappropriated) choice of language. Anyone reading this is welcome to add any they come across in the comments. I'll add the ones that get my eyebrows aloft!

1. Starting on 07 March 25 - the self-destruction of a Space X rocket (umanned):

 "a rapid unscheduled disassembly"

The wording is, of course, reasonably correct, although 'disassembly' does imply a stuctured process, rather than an uncontrolled parting of the ways of the various components. The BBC is less coy - it exploded. The lightshow was quite spectacular as captured by a couple of people in the Bahamas.

2. Sue alerted me to this description of POTUS she found on a British political vlog:

"About as popular as a hedgehog suppository"

I just wonder what the vlogger thinks about JDV?  

3. 10 March: "A parsitic illegal immigrant"

(Ooops, I should have cut and pasted this rather than try and spell it out  ... parsitic? Who Moi???)

Whoever could Mr 2-shirts Bannon be referring to? 

4.  26 March: I couldn't resist this bit of schadenfreude from Moxie Marlinspike (sic) the founder of the Signal app:

"There are so many great reasons to be on Signal. Now including the opportunity for the vice president of the United States of America to randomly add you to a group chat for coordination of sensitive military operations.”

 

5. 15/06 I came across this a few weeks ago. Whether it holds true in every respect, I don't know, but it does seem that for everything from trade tariffs to threats against Russia regarding Ukraine, POTUS really does deserve his nickname ... TACO 

 

6.  05/07 Not so much a phrase this, but  ...

 


 

 

(courtesy of MSN News)

 ... so spoke the Chairman of the Board of the John F Kennedy Centre for the Performing Arts  ... 

7. A very sad post today ... it's return of TACO man from Alaska. 

8. 21/09 - It's very cruel, but there's this curious fashion going the rounds of women at the moment for very exaggerated eyebrows and filled(?) pouty lips and I read it described as 'cod lips and slug eyebrows'. Yes, cruel, but when the local newspaper has seemingly endless selfies by such young women (often up before a court for minor offences) a shorthand description is inevitable.

 



 

Friday, 28 February 2025

Meeting An Old Friend

 When Barbara, my dear friend who helped me 'become' Nikki, had her health seriously compromised, a national charity, Age UK, helped her find a flat in sheltered housing where she spent her last few years. She had given up providing a dressing service and I never dressed there, but she did let one old client of hers from Folkestone ('Jim')  keep a suitcase there and dress from time to time.

Barbara had a great pal, Doris, who I have probably mentioned before. Doris lived in a flat opposite and their doors were always open to each other. Once when 'Jim' was there Doris called in. Barbara later recounted how Doris didn't turn a hair at the appearance of 'Jim' in female clothing and wig.

When Barbara died, I took 'Jim''s suitcase for safekeeping and let him know that he could call at my place whenever he wanted to dress. I had inherited Barbara's watercolours and 'Jim', being an accomplished and published artist, also showed me the rudiments of watercolour painting.

Time passed, I retired and took up painting classes, 'Jim' called around from time to time, always interested in what I had been painting. I used to visit Doris a couple of times a year until Covid and Pauline's cancer intervened. It must have been three or four years since I last saw her.  Then this last Christmas, 2025, Doris left a message on my phone and once I was past the worst of my annual SAD I went over and spent a couple of hours with her while she reminisced about her youth and the stables she used to run. I found it astonishing how she flicked through photographs she had of her horses and recounted each one's character. I hope my brain's that good at 95, if I ever get there!

Then, surprise ... she mentioned 'Jim'! It was quite clear that when he first appeared she was a bit taken aback. Apparently, he was in some filmy seethrough dress with a slip underneath but then he went and changed into a more formal dress and rejoined Barbara and Doris for some tea! Doris was clearly not disturbed by the idea of men dressing as women and mentioned things like 'Cabaret'. I was in a bit of a quandary ... should I tell her about Nikki, or not? I decided not to as she has only known me as Nick. Of course, had she asked a direct question, I would have willingly admitted it. I'll be seeing her again in a few weeks. Perhaps I'll put one or two pictures of Nikki on my phone, just in case.

I forgot, when first writing this, who 'Jim' was to Doris. She thought 'Jim' was the priest who officiated at Barbara's cremation! They did look alike and I know the Rev. used to call on Barbara in the years before she died. Doris thought there might be some tie-up with wearing priest's robes ... hmm!

 

 

Saturday, 25 January 2025

James Taylor ... a quick memory

 I want to get this down before I forget it; it might disappear forever.

Final year at Chelsea College of Technology ... a girl on my course, not wishing anything else, wondered whether I would like to hear an LP she had of James Taylor. I think she lived in a bedsit in Earls Court. (Addition 06/06/25 - I can now picture the street, Warwick Road). So it was that I first heard 'Sweet Baby James' and was immediately, and forever, taken by his music. Some time later I visited her and her boyfriend ... she was going to quit college. For the first time in my life I gave someone else advice. I said to her that she would pass the final exam units, that it was just a few months away (I think no more than three) and once she had the degree she could do what she liked but nobody could take that award away from her. I can't remember her name, I hope she lived the life she wanted despite those last few months ... she did get her degree.

This all came back tonight as BBC2 had a Carole King (with) James Taylor night and memories from so many years ago were awakened. 

February add-on: my memory has always had a mind of its own!!! As I guess with most people, memories spring themselves upon us at their own whim and now I think it important to note them down, if possible, as they provide 'nodes' in life which I can then fit other experiences to. (Curiously, just responding to Sue's piece in her blog 'Sue's news and views' mentioning wild boar sauce brought back the whole experience of a fortnight in Zivaco in '98, our second trip to Corsica - the first was to Lama). Corsican chestnut beer; ancient chestnut pollards in the woods; a helicopter ambulance recovering a woman who horse had thrown her while riding through the village; the house we stayed at, English owned by the widow of a ex-pat farmer who had emigrated in the 60's. Modern Corsican polyphony - our first hearing of I Muvrini, who we later saw twice in Lille and once in London ... more side roads of memory there! Going to a restaurant in a neighbouring village for a pizza and being told by the owner that we should have boar instead as it had just been prepared that day, but was not on the menu. He said it in a friendly but 'forcible' manner such that we knew we were in for a treat, and it was. When we wanted dessert, he wasn't letting go ... he had some cheese which he was sure we would like. We had it (all through our lives it's been very rare for us not to try new things) and it was good. The owner then came over with coffee and asked us about the cheese .We told him it was really nice. "Good" he said, "the man who made it is sitting there" ... at the next table!

Monday, 6 January 2025

2025 ... Another New Year, But Last Year and Christmas First


 Pauline and I had fallen into an enjoyable if short-lived habit of visiting Pamela and Mary in Ireland for Christmas. Pauline's decline in health was such that Christmas 2023 had to be cancelled. Pamela insisted that this year, 2024, I visit for two weeks.

I knew when Pauline died that I needed to be able to focus on things for me. Before then, however, there were other things that had to be done.

Sorting out Pauline's Estate would take a toll, even with assistance and so it has turned out. The clearing of the hoarding in the flat is now almost complete and I was able to get a clearance company to remove full boxes and bags of papers. I also found a plumber who fixed a pipework problem and is coming back in January to refurbish the bathroom. He has also indicated that he can direct me to other local tradespeople who can get to work on the kitchen etc. I hope that by Spring the flat will be in a condition that I can then decide what to do with it. At some time I shall also have to go to Germany to resolve part of Pauline's Estate that is over there!

An early job for 'me' was to employ a tree surgeon to carry out work at the cottage - a first as I always used to do garden and tree work myself but I can't risk accidents now - old bones don't bounce. A tree  needed to come down and then there were the hedges, uncut for two years, they were about 16 foot high.

With that underway, I was able to book myself a week on the Lizard in Cornwall, primarily for walking, but also for visiting some megalithic sites. The week was good despite managing to get a double puncture one day that cost me the next day in getting new tyres (thank heavens for Green Flag). One of the best pictures was taken at the end of twilight and a very long walk.


I did manage a bit of dressing while there:

  

Apart from this old ruin (me) there were plenty of  megaliths, such as Chûn Quoit, to be visited. I have decided to return to the Lizard in 2025 and hope to meet with Deeanna when I do.




 

 

 

 The trip to the Lizard was what I needed: somewhere new, to ease me into a new life.

 I still had little inclination to dress, however, and I was having problems with my left eyelid - swelling and psoriasis.

Roll on to December and I was packing for Ireland. I did buy two new dresses as we hoped to have a couple of nights at a hotel near Athlone. Just before leaving for Ireland there was news from Holyhead - the ferry berth had been damaged by Storm Darragh. At first it seemed slight, but the news just got worse. In the end I transferred to Cairnryan-Belfast. I was able to cancel everything without cost and actually saved money, but it was a long haul up to Scotland and I arrived in Belfast for the dawn rush hour. I arrived at Pamela and Mary's in time for breakfast and to hear further ferry news: Holyhead would be shut until 15 January! I immediately worked out that Dublin-Fishguard would be best for me, so transferred my ticket for that route. Once Stena had got over the shock of losing its most popular route, it was very efficient at re-ticketing. Pamela had bad news - the cortisone injection for her knee had done nothing and she was in a great deal of pain. Despite that, the fortnight with Pamela and Mary was wonderful: I didn't really want to leave and I don't think they wanted me to. We had a chat with Gia on Christmas day. Pamela and Gia have been so supportive through this saddest of all years.

Of course we did get out while I was in Ireland, sometimes dressed, sometimes not. I even managed to use make up again, for the first time in two years, although after the first attempt the eyelid problem returned, so from then on I only used make up to my cheek bones and avoided eye make up. 

On my last day Pamela and Mary treated me to Afternoon Tea at Tankardstown House which rounded off a great Christmas and New Year.

I came home with one new dress still to be worn, but we intend going to Athlone later this year. The journey home was uneventful ... just 17 hours of it!

Back at home, the house was very cold and damp and I spent the first hours warming it up. I found I had but one message of the answerphone, but what a message ... it was from Barbara's old neighbour, Doris!!! I honestly thought she had passed away. I made phoning her the very first thing I did the following day and we've arranged that I'll see her in a couple of weeks. She is still all with it at 95!

I'm taking this as a good omen for 2025.