BEATS OF LOVE

92. Slam Dunk Funk by Future Perfect

 LAST NIGHT in the late summer evening sun, the magic happened. 

Without headphones and in the main just picking up records randomly, I got in the zone and built things up brilliantly. I should be coz I've been doing it for nearly 40 years. There were many satisfying moments, but picking this up and playing it after roughly two-thirds of Herbert's People That Make the Music was blissful and kept me dancing.  

Yes, dancing. I'm all for a mix that locks two tracks together and takes the dancefloor somewhere surprising but not that keen on the seamless join. At least not if the DJ has locked themselves in their headphones for about two whole minutes to perform it. They could be dancing and enjoying themselves and still keeping their dancefloor happy.   

This record dating back to 1995  has been totally forgotten, and I fully anticipated it spoiling the magical mood I had created, but for reasons outside my understanding, I played it anyway and was richly rewarded. I love its extra sensory layers. It's subtler and sparser than I imagined it was going to be, and, in that moment, without the aid of mixing it, or filtering it, it totally slayed me. 

I totally bought into the idea of the DJ as shaman and the all surrendering ritualistic reverie of their followers, but now, as I age and decay, I better understand the limitations of such an idea. 

And so fully understand why my next-door neighbour went outside to mow his lawn rather than appreciate my alchemy and hand-claps. The bastard! 

 BEATS OF LOVE

       91. Guided By The Sea Came Death By E.R. Thorpe

A COMPANION piece to the most important LP of the century: This Short Sweet Life is Christmas come early.

I create a lot of conundrums in my head, but by far the longest unsolved one is why so many folk are really popular when Huw and Emma create such transfixing music and only press up vinyl copies in the low hundreds. It's really annoying that being so into their important music is seen as an elitist deeper listening past-time. It shouldn't be. 

Despite its lovely sleeve both feeling and looking incredible (hats off Joakim Boren), it is truly upstaged by the wonderful music. The whole EP is top drawer, but this track is totally addictive. Huw's harmony is the perfect counterbalance for Emma's candy floss delivery. A delivery that truly disarms the listener with its subliminal imagery. I'm reminded of Tanya Donelly's sugary, unsettling, and distinctive contributions to The Throwing Muses.

Popular music in the blues/folk tradition can so often sound a bit sterile but thank-fully that same sonic fizz that sets Torn Sail apart sets this apart. Its evocative sensory effects transport me back to my teary grandparents' front room, where together in nightly prayer they reminisced about two young guys blown-up in a tank.

A simple expression for something so unfathomably complex. That has great depth and poignancy. Just like this cantering, dizzying gem of a tune.