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 Jeremy Corbyn came into town. Outlining the vision of his future party as yet unnamed.

Likening himself in this moment to Keir Hardie, who had to break away from the liberals, added a touch of gravitas to an otherwise confusing political pitch. How, with no name, no leadership personnel, no trade union support and no print press interest, the animated man beside me expects Corbyn to win the 2029 election is anyone's guess. 

Everyday Farage's reform party is pulling away in the polls with anti-immigration spin. Yet more people now see capitalism as sacrificial economics, and it's no surprise to see a very confident former hedge fund manager faking salt of the earth appeal to distract from the fact. Demanding that people turn away from economic truth to explain loss by insisting that immigration has failed society and not this sacrificial economics. And turn away from social reality to explain justice by insisting we are inherently different when the opposite is true. These stories radicalise the dreamer, who is typically an impoverished, white, working-class individual. 

Outside the hall were small-town activists, labelling such dreamers fascist with an air of self righteousness, but Corbyn, if he's to become a political threat, will have to find some charm and wake them up. Convincing them they're the victims of manipulation. 

Sadly, it will probably take a demonstration of Farage's chicanery in power to accomplish that. 

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’d intended to heap high praise on the coming together of kosmische precision and pastoral reverie, but Dr Rob beat me to it. * 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/