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 in serendipitous fashion, 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 I'm not that keen on the seamless join, at least not if the DJ is locked in their headphones for about two whole minutes to perform it. They could be dancing and enjoying themselves while still keeping their dancefloor happy. Or in my case, my conservatory plants.

This record, dating back to 1995, had 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 supisingly enriched. I love its extrasensory layers. It's subtler and sparser than I imagined it would be, and, in that moment, without the aid of mixing or filtering it, it totally slayed me and my houseplants.

I once bought into the DJ as shaman and the ritualistic reverie of their followers. Now, aging alongside my houseplants, I see the limits of that myth. I finally understand why my neighbour mowed his lawn instead of appreciating my hand-claps and musical alchemy. 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. If justice existed in the music industry, Huw and Emma would be household names, not a closely guarded secret.

I create a lot of conundrums in my head, but by far the longest unsolved one is why so many artists 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 an elitist deeper listening past-time. It shouldn't be. 

Despite its lovely sleeve, both feeling and looking incredible (hats off Joakim Boren), the wonderful music truly upstaged it. The whole EP is top drawer, but this track is totally addictive. Huw's harmony is the perfect counterbalance to 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 sterile, but thankfully 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 rosemary prayer, they reminisced about two young guys who died in the war.

A simple expression for something so unfathomably complex that has great depth and poignancy. Just like the emotional impact upon hearing this cantering, dizzying gem of a tune.