BEATS OF LOVE 

159. Wanna Be Startin' Somethin' by Michael Jackson

IT'S EASY to clap when your political beliefs aren't being challenged. 

Such was the case last night when Jermey Corbyn came into town to outline the vision of his future party. Likening himself in this moment to Kier Hardie, who had to break away from the liberals, added a touch of gravitas to an otherwise confusing enterprise. 

How, with no name, no leadership personnel, no trade union support and no print press interest, the guy next to me expects him to win the 2029 election, is anyone's guess. Everyday Reform is pulling away with an anti-immigration spin. Once again, their acolytes I speak to get their facts wrong. Telling me half a million asylum seekers is too many. I have to correct them and say 40,000 tops. 

Farage's mass deportation plans hinge on finding an estimated number of illegal migrants. He's very confident that the number is over half a million, but will probably only find a few thousand on account of his number being imagined. He's also very confident his top team aren't racists, but more than any other politician has to sack a load for being just that. More people now see that capitalism is a death cult, and it's no surprise to see a very confident former hedge fund manager masquerading as an everyman to distract from the fact. 

Demanding that people turn away from economic truth to explain loss and social reality to explain justice and instead believe in something that radicalizes the dreamer in them. Them nearly always being white, working class and poor. Outside were small-town activists labelling those dreamers fascist with an air of self righteousness, but Corbyn, if he's to become a political threat, will have to wake them up. Convincing them they're both brainwashed and wrong.

Sadly, he'll probably need Farage in office to achieve that. And challenge our political beliefs and his staunch humanitarianism. 

BEATS OF LOVE 

158. Patron Saint Of Elsewhere LP by Sewell & the Gong

NOT SURE how this talented duo was going to translate over a long-play listen after a mighty impressive twelve, but they've locked into one hell of a mood and groove with a confidence which is highly addictive. A tad weightier but still spangled with enough air to take all the heavy chocolate in your life away.

I would've been heaping a lot of high praise about the coming together of kosmische precision and pastoral reverie, but Dr Rob beat me to it again. * And far more eloquently descriptive. Even citing the sound within to be evocative of a drug free Spacemen 3. I've never dared imagine a drug free Spacemen 3. Surely it's like imagining the Beatles without George Harrison. 

The pressing is flawless too, which helps when drifting off deep. So deep that I stubbed my little toe on my swivel chair's foot while surrendering to it. The most pain I've felt in ages which is odd considering how many heavy pallets I've mishandled of late. So much so that I actually put on a pair of socks to lie down and finish my listen. 

If this was a dish, it would be paella. Best shared. I miss communal listening. Whilst not as intense, it is great sharing the energy and space with someone appreciative. Loving the print too with its soft sherbert hues that nailed what I was imagining my flyers would be like when an illustrator friend helped me out until they came back. Nothing like this, of course. 

Only this time I actually bought their work for the colourful psychedelia of the music in its entirety. Beguiling drones and all. 

* https://banbantonton.com/2025/07/31/sewell-the-gong-patron-saint-of-elsewhere-dsppr/