LESS CHITTER-CHATTERING, MORE MUSIC MATTERING : AN END OF YEAR  REVIEW

DESPITE BEING ecstatic the year has ended, I'm taking away a fair few positives. 

I no longer have to mither folk for mixes coz I've already reached my Mixcloud limit.  I no longer have to mither musicians coz I have no wish to promote. I'm basically freeing up time to listen more intently and maybe sell some things online. Cue relief stamped across the missus boat-race. 

Still locked into the majesty of Smiling C's American Dream Reserve, a masterclass in compiling records by Charles Bals and Henry Jones. So many long term wants ticked off and so many woozy hours in the horizontal with a look of sheer bliss stamped across my boat. Buy, beg,  or steal a copy, it's truly magnificent. Another honourable mention to pH whose comps were cherished by just about everybody. Well, everybody we know. 

 

Another LP of unparalleled languid beauty was The Zenmenn / John Moods Hidden Gem. Opener Out of My Mind is the best fully realized song, but the  whole set creates a wonderful atmosphere that thankfully slows life right down. A more intense, but no less wonderful, LP is Samana's All One Breath. Some breathtakingly fragile tunes that have both body and something more ethereal at play. Opener Melancholy Heat sets the tone wonderfully, but The Beach is the stunner on this very strong sophomore album. I do hope their digital only goodness Two Wrongs is getting a wax workout. It's even better. 

Like a lot of folk, I was excited by the return of DJH for about 5 minutes. I was much more excited by Jaz and Bertie's belated twelve on the buy on sight label Death on Wax. I first heard about John on the forum and Jesus Loves Lizzy Mercier Descloux is simply a brilliantly crisp cosmic delight. As good if a little groggier is DJ Absolutely Shit's Close Your Eyes, that also took an age to arrive. Completed with Howard Jones's Hide and Seek extended mix (Cheers Darren!) and the Mondays WFL Vince Clarke mix for a full sensory experience and maximum trance-dance joy.   

The good thing about year end round ups is they unearth some overlooked gems. One such gem is Dennis Bovells  Custard's Last Stand DUBfinity Version that marks the highlight of A Mountain of One's impressive return. Thanks again to Dr Rob for sharing The Disciples Spirit Of Shaka on Boom Shaka Laka. It's yummy and much mellower than the Thank You material I was aware of.  

On an altogether mellower trip still, Misha Panfilov's The Sea Will Outlive Us All LP showcases the multi-instrumentalist lost in dreamscape mode and is spell-blinding. I hear folk funk lolloping in a more discordant landscape and it works a treat. Play it all the way through, all day. With a nod to the future, Strata-Gemma's Radamato LP takes us to an even spacier side of lunar-jazz. Capitolium is a delightful amalgamation of sparse electronics and rich, textured instrumentation that drifts me off into the deep.   

A more conventional head melt comes in the form of Wax Machine's folksy jazz infused album Hermit's Grove. The trippy All I Can Do evokes prime-time Pentangle, with its shimmering hazy groove, but  the important ghostly messaging is unique and marks a quantum leap from their linear debut. Matthieu Beck's Here Alone LP is a wholly singular excursion to a sock free hideaway if ever there was. Closer Piano Fin shares a sublime oddness, that unsurprisingly, is reminiscent of Basso's finest growing bin treasure. It really feels pretty special to be horizontal without socks when playing it.   

There are sevens strewn about, but most are reissues. Must confess to loving Finders Keepers excavation E Tai Daotion by the Gary Sloan Ensemble. An Alaskan jazz voyage that builds brilliantly, then breaks into something even more beguiling. I also bought a necessary cassette by Tabi Tapes called Stockport, which has several moments . Cheers All Night Flight. 

Despite being ecstatic the year has ended, I'm definitely taking away a fair few positives. 

 BEATS OF LOVE 

76. In My Dreams by Crosby, Stills & Nash

DAVID CROSBY saved my life. After my father died suddenly, a fortnight after a heart-attack which arose when I booted in the telly, I was wracked with pain and guilt.

I was watching something high-minded on Channel 4 and my portable lost its signal  so I went to ask if I could watch downstairs. The family were all avidly watching Miss World, so collectively answered 'no.' Undeterred, I switched it on anyway. There then ensued a comedic battle of turning it off and on until the crescendo was reached and nobody watched anything on it thereafter. 

In that fortnight lay the promise of a brighter future. I would stop being a jerk, knuckle down and study, strengthen my faith, become supportive, and love my family more. Obviously, the road ahead was me being an even bigger jerk, dropping out of study completely, losing my faith, becoming unsupportive, and loving what was left of my family, less.     

The only light and warmth in my life at the time came out of my stereo speakers, especially the soothing voice and sensitivity of David Crosby. First, his glorious contributions to the Byrds, which got me through unrequited love and stopped me obsessing about suicide. Nobody else had the answers, but I found them in his frank but truly heartfelt lyrics. 

Shortly after, I experienced a sort of suspended reaction to my father's passing in the form of my first breakdown. Because it was some years after I had to fight through the difficult terrain myself. At this pitiful time, when nothing seemed to be going right, I had the great fortune to enter the Corn Exchange and find a copy of If I Could Only Remember My Name. My most played LP really helped me on a profound level at that time. Laughing was an eerily prescient song and I'm so glad it wasn't gifted to George Harrison coz Crosby's delivery is pitch perfect and with a little help from Joni, his harmonic brilliance soars above just about everything and anything. 

Then, I discovered his majestic early work with Stills and Nash and Young that predictably coincided with further breakdowns. Later I bought CSN from Sifters and I was skeptical. 1977 wasn't the golden era of music, but I needn't have worried coz this song is simply mesmerizing. My most played song for once didn't correspond with a crisis point in my life and I was able to engage with it joyously. 

Encapsulated by a night at Nick's Acid Tree when lost in the sheer reverie of it spinning, I danced like a child for a full five minutes. Only the finest songsmiths can have that effect on people. 

Damn right, David Crosby saved my life and Miss Venezuela finished first runner-up 

BEATS OF LOVE 

75. Hot Water (Extended Version) by Level 42

PUSHING MYSELF this year and feel I'm finally coming out of those storm-clouds. 

I'm attending keep-fit classes. I'm also attending film study sessions to help me write a draft for a piece that I hope to pass on to a comedy writer. A corroboration, at least in my head. I'm putting in two hours a day religiously and thinking about it a lot. Oh, and I'm about to acquire a pair of turntables. My first since 1999. 

After an insanely busy work schedule is finally over, I now have a large pile of unplayed records and two whole days to spin them. This absolute monster was played from the pile after The Psychedelic Furs incredible Mendlesohn long mix of Heartbeat, which makes some sort of sense. It cost me the princely sum of 50p.

The legendary Alan Scott of Beatles and Bowie fame, superimposes Mark King's already distinctive bass, by adding an even more relentless rhythm to back it, culminating in one of the tightest and funkiest cuts I've heard in ages. More fabled and lauded for their majestic work with Mendlesohn himself (who isn't smitten by his wondrous Sisa mix of Something About You?), this epic mix has all but escaped my attention until now. 

Auxiliary member Wally Badarou gets a writing credit here too, but it's most definitely Scott taking the bow. Level 42 has never sounded younger than this.  Pure marmite, though, it holds nothing back, so you're either gliding across the floor in glee like myself, or reaching for the sick bucket.  

It feels super fast and breezy, so mirrors my new year perfectly. If you're in the eye of the storm, keep the faith, you'll come through it.