Sock Free Hideaway

BEATS OF LOVE 

17. Mise En Abyme by Steve Cobby 

I'M STILL not over my mother's sudden death. In truth, I still feel like a severed branch and I still roll my eyes in disbelief on a daily basis. I did a bit of curating shortly after she died, which was far from perfect, so I know how you can only work in bursts before it all gets too overwhelming. My mother told me my father wasn't the same person since his own mother died and I now understand why. 

That Steve Cobby has produced a whole album to commemorate his mother's life is an achievement in itself. That it's pretty much perfect is no great surprise, but that much of it plays so joyously marks the true testament to her and did disarm me, the listener, somewhat. 

I'm reminded of Ted, my mother's long term-companion and partner who knew her more than anyone, and deciding what songs should be played to commemorate her life. I was digging out John Coltrane, but he simply scoffed his face. His expression barely changed with Ella, but when he saw Dionne Warwick and played the Bacharach & David penned What the World Needs Now, his face lit up. He wanted joyous music. 

I've just got back from a wedding where it felt like I was representing Nigeria. The bride's estranged Nigerian Father (our cousin) was unable to impose a full traditional wedding (thank God), but had influenced the occasion enough to deter his ex-wife, the bride's Jamaican mother from attending. 

The joylessness finally built up to a crescendo pitch during the speeches when it became apparent she was missing. The small Nigerian contingent could feel the hostility aimed at them yet framed it along the lines of nationalism, but I knew different. The bride and groom will regret their decision to connect with their Nigerian lineage over and above honouring their mother. That said, this track, the LP closer, isn't all that joyous. Its harmonica etches into the memory through recurring sequence, as the title suggests, so much graphic imagery, that it becomes a duet with the piano. This plaintive expression, served with threadbare accompaniment, truly captures the essence of such a presence. And truly honours his own mother.

The past becomes as much a part of our tomorrow as the present day. If ever the word intarsia can be applied to music, it is this two-sided blend that marks a poignant refusal of death. The presence is simply too strong for its acceptance. It's why my feelings of severance will eventually heal, and why the bride and mother will soon be reconciled and come to realize that she, in fact, never missed her daughter's wedding at all. 

Cheers Steve Cobby, a giant among men.   

https://soundcloud.com/sjcobby/mise-en-abyme-mstr