BEATS OF LOVE

 

126. Yuri-G by PJ Harvey

WHAT A brilliant afternoon unfolded. After washing my floors whilst watching American Psycho, I had to decide whether to listen to the golf on the radio or watch the telly highlights and go for a walk. 

I had intended to walk to the monument prior to a trip to Gosfield to celebrate my lovely aunt's 90th year but got waylaid watching the marathon ladies' semi-finals at Wimbledon, so did it today. When I finally got to the place where both my mother's and her brother's ashes scattered after busy winding roads chock-full of cars kept slowing things up, two soft circling ravens met me. 

lovely aunty with her lovely grandchildren

Ravens have become deeply poignant and something I have had to change my attitude toward. They first lingered on my lawn the day my mother took ill, then seemed to gloat after she'd died. However, by the time I celebrated my 50th in a Zurich restaurant replete with ravens designed into glass-panels, I finally embraced the bird, which became emblematic of my mother.  

My lovely aunty Pat is a great example of courage and fortitude. A wise owl. Partially sighted and dependent on carers entering her home, she is full of trust and joy. Reaching that age to teach us still. An atheist, she misses her long chats with my mother, whereas I still put words in mother's mouth every time I see a raven and peck her head. Almost daily. 

Hoping her bearing witness to the duplicity of others can have some sway in future outcomes. That is simply selfish, and I will just have to find the faith to forgive. Today was all about letting go. Praying instead that she rests in perfect peace. 

That a lone raven gently flew past as I headed for home made my soulful walk complete. 

BEATS OF LOVE 

125. Persephone's Song by Students of The George School

Jonny Trunk's genius for unearthing music and releasing it on vinyl knows no bounds, and reading his Friday mail-outs is an integral part of my week. I miss wrapping my tenner in an envelope and receiving advanced copies and still say to myself 'you've surpassed yourself this time' at least once every five years.

I vividly recall the hunt for his breakthrough Wicker Man soundtrack, LP. E-Bloc and Decoy couldn't help and the HMV store and Piccadilly had sold out of their stock, so I scoured second hand outlets. Luckily, after a few weeks, M1 had a copy on their counter, but Brian didn't want to sell it. I must've looked pretty desperate. He finally accepted my steep offer of £17.

With super artwork and an info sheet name-checking the Massiv chorus, Journey of Persephone was less stressful to buy and is stunning. Magically unearthing this rare 1973 album from a Pennsylvania school ensemble like no other, Jonny once again delivers the goods. Unlike the Wonder Years, which taps into a faux nostalgia, this feels authentic. Except darker. 

Echoes of this era's telly acoustic hand clapping children sing-alongs are more embedded in the imaginations of folk, like myself, born in the sixties. Before more visual, ad orientated chewing gum telly became the norm. And Miraculously, the students play all Lars T Clutterman's weird, wonderful songbook with total mastery. On stage. In real time.

   

This opener's jaunty, piano-led blast of folk funk takes me to my happy place, but reflecting on the curation of the whole album, it is a masterclass in musical discovery. 'You've completely surpassed yourself this time!'