Feeling 22: a year in review

When I was 17, it was a very good year for small town girls and soft summer nights. When I was 21, it was a very good year for city girls who lived up the stair with all that perfumed hair.

Perhaps in the same way that you read a horoscope and bend its meaning so dramatically so it fits your situation, I can do the same with this Sinatra song. I was a small towner aged 17 (soft summer nights hardly applicable, though) and a city girl aged 21. And my bedroom’s at the top of a three-storey house, meaning I technically live up the stair with all that perfumed hair (or more accurate, the smell of Febreze coming from the top-floor bathroom).

21 has been good to me, though. My best friend painted me something as a gift last year, full of good luck charms such as a rabbit’s foot, a four-leaf clover, and a fortune cookie.

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‘It will be the most wonderful year, 21.’ The symbols have served me well. Here are some things I’m really, really proud of doing this year.

1. I Spent My Last Birthday Living My Best Life

rome

I was in Rome on 9 May 2017, and had the most perfect pizza and limoncello (on the house! Buon compleanno!) with a picture postcard view of the Colosseum (look! It looks like a green screen!) This year, I’ll be in Zadar, Croatia, so it’s safe to say I’m feeling very lucky and grateful that I get to hop on a plane to celebrate the blessed day my mother went through hours of excruciating pain so I could come into the world and write unmissable online content.

2. I Turned It Around…Screenshot 2018-05-08 at 10.10.57 - Edited

I’m proud that I was able to turn a negative experience into something positive. I hope I contributed to the ongoing discussion around the decriminalisation of abortion and the use of the abortion pill at home through my Debrief investigation into abortion waiting times in England. I didn’t want to write about work stuff on this post, but taking up a good chunk of my year (four months all in all) this was a big project. Appearing on BBC radio to present my findings was also quite special.

3. …And Ran A Half Marathon!

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It’s funny to reflect on this now, as I’ve been drinking for four days (Bank Holiday heatwave, holla) and tried to drag myself out for a run this morning but haven’t managed to yet. In November, six months ago, I ran 13 miles for the Royal College of Obs and Gyns and raised £300!

4. I Saw A Tribe Called Quest Perform Their Last Show

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OK, perhaps they’ll be back, but the poignancy of an absent Phife Dawg and the greatness of their final album made this Bestival performance all the more legendary. In other hip-hop news, I made a major discovery for myself this year in the form of MF Doom. The above picture is an unrelated photo of us watching Soul II Soul last summer, because all the other points have pictures.

5. I Became Less Scared of Cats

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I have always been near-terrified of cats and all the things they’re plotting against me, but my lovely flatmate welcomed two gorgeous feline things into our house earlier this year. Here is one of them: Really White Cat. Yes, that is her name. White Cat for short.

6. I Kept Up With This Blog! 

I started this blog more than five years ago when I was off sick from school, insanely bored, with no idea about what to write about or who I was writing for. I still have that problem. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading through it and dance along to some of the playlists I share on here.

Speaking of playlists, I made a 10-track playlist about turning 22! Send it to everyone you know who’s 22 already or who’s looking forward to the age of double trouble.

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Click here to hear it.

‘Do you wanna be in the business?’ – 10 songs about the music industry

I read Mike Love’s autobiography last week, the lead singer from the Beach Boys who isn’t Brian Wilson. It’s actually a wonderful read, and a fascinating one at that for anyone supremely interested in 1960s America. In it, Love documents the sudden rise of the Beach Boys as ‘America’s Band’ after Life magazine ran a cover feature about California’s surf craze. So, writing to a brief almost, the Beach Boys signed a deal to produce seven records in something like two years, on the theme of surfing, girls and cars (Surfin’ USA, California Girls, Little Deuce Coupe respectively). While I was reading it I could help but listen to the band on repeat, which got me yearning for summer during a time in mid-March where we’ve been seeing blizzard-like snow. The interesting thing about the Beach Boys is that Pet Sounds and the re-imagined Smile Sessions aside, they have only around 15 hits that have kept resurging every 10 years or so, as another generation discovers their music and makes out with their boyfriends in the car to it. The memoir also recounts the band’s infamous lawsuits throughout the years which got me thinking about the workings of the music industry since the ’60s. So I made a PLAYLIST of songs about the curious, sneaky inner goings-on in the biz (scroll down for related lyrics*). You can listen to it here.

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Here are a list of other books that I have hugely enjoyed since the turn of the new year: Conversations with Friends by Sally Rooney; Everything I Know About Love by Dolly Alderton, Rookie on Love by Rookie writers and contributors; Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. I’ve tried to get into Goodreads as a way to easily share and get recommendations on what I’ve been reading, but I JUST CAN’T RATE A BOOK OUT OF FIVE! I just rate ALL the books I’ve read out of five, mostly as a pat-on-the-back to myself: Well done you! Five stars for reading a book!


I went to Newcastle for St. Patrick’s Day to see my dear friend and Girl Chat co-host Chloe Trayford. It were a right belter. Here’s some art I saw at the Baltic Gallery that I give you full permission to use as your phone wallpaper.

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On the train home, I watched Beats Rhymes and Life, a documentary about A Tribe Called Quest available on Netflix! Watch it! It’s great! It’s so great I had no idea my train arrived 40 minutes late and I got the full price of my ticket back. All good news.


Other things that I’ve been up to: Saw the motherfucking GOAT Milo at Birthdays in Stoke Newington at both his sold-out shows in London a couple of weeks ago. I don’t have any photos. He did completely different sets both nights and it was probably the most life-affirming duo of shows I’ve ever seen (no hyperboles, trust). It was quite otherworldly to be stood at the front of the crowd and see someone be so creative so spontaneously and with such conviction. If you’ve not heard him yet, I suggest you do so wherever you listen to your music. If you want to support independent radio, here’s an appearance he did on NTS Radio. He steps up around 14m 30s, but listen from the start to hear an insanely good Busdriver track.

OK, I have a terrible cold and I’m out. I’ll be back soon having done some REAL writing.


(P.S. Here’s all the lyrics related to the music business in the linked up playlist, in case you didn’t believe me).
*1. Check the Rhime – A Tribe Called Quest
“Industry rule number four thousand and eighty
Record company people are shady
So kids watch your back ’cause I think they smoke crack
I don’t doubt it, look at how they act”

2. Paint a Vulgar Picture – The Smiths
“Best of! Most of!
Satiate the need
Slip them into different sleeves!
Buy both, and feel deceived
Climber – new entry, re-entry”

3. Free Man in Paris – Joni Mitchell
“I was a free man in Paris
I felt unfettered and alive
Nobody was calling me up for favours
And no one’s future to decide
You know I’d go back there tomorrow
But for the work I’ve taken on
Stoking the star maker machinery
Behind the popular song”

4. Bitch, Don’t Kill My Vibe – Kendrick Lamar
“You shut me down, you like the control
You speak to me like I’m a child
Try to hold it down, I know the answer
I can shake it off and you feel threatened by me”

5. Re: Animist – Milo
“Showboat rappers get stood up in their studio
I heard Wal-Mart signed Jason Derulo
Then dropped him cause he couldn’t sell crew socks
And refused to adopt the umlaut”

6. W.O.E is Entertainment – Jurassic 5
“Welcome to the wonderful world of entertainment
Where life imitate art and people get famous
Welcome to the world of showbiz arrangement
Where lights, camera, action is the language”

7. We Walk – The Ting Tings
We can’t be honest
We call it off
We got the choice if it all goes wrong
We walk, we walk

8. Have a Cigar – Pink Floyd
“You’re gonna make it if you try,
They’re gonna love you.
I’ve always had a deep respect and I mean that most sincere;
The band is just fantastic, that is really what I think,
Oh, by the way, which one’s Pink?”

9. Country House – Blur
“City dweller, successful fella thought to himself
Oops I’ve got a lot of money
Caught in a rat race terminally
I’m a professional cynic but my heart’s not in it
I’m payin’ the price of livin’ life at the limit”

10. Show Business – A Tribe Called Quest
“Let me tell you ’bout the snakes, the fakes, the lies
The highs at all of these industry shing-dings
Where you see the pretty girls
In the high animated world
Checkin’ for a rapper with all the dough
If you take a shit they want to know
And if you’re gonna fall, they won’t be around, y’all
So you still wanna do the show business?”

‘Wild is the wind’ – 10 songs about winter

Sunday 21st January 2018

Home for a day to sort through my books and cull all the ones that bring the least amount of sentimentality. My mother is moving house again and my old bedroom is still stacked to the brim: every Bill Bryson book going, 1,001 photos, my school yearbook, a dozen payslips from my first part-time job, and three copies of the same ABBA Gold compilation (despite moving out 18 months ago). I knew I was coming home to do this this weekend, so had prepared myself for the emotions it brings; the idea of other people moving on and you having to change with them. If it were down to me, I’d have kept every single one of these books and trinkets, as, after a few house moves and a move-out, these are the objects and notebooks that have made the final cut many times before. However, I obliged to help my mum out with the move – I genuinely don’t want the Mighty Boosh box set and stray photos of ex-boyfriends to follow her into yet another residence.

Here are some things that I’ve never managed to to throw away that have now followed me to London.

  1. Some loose papers, comprising my AS Level English coursework typed up, and the first handwritten page of the Very First Draft of my very first play. I kept the coursework because I’ve been looking for it for ages, trying to sum up to my boyfriend what kind of parties my friends and I frequented aged 16. I thank my lower sixth self that I essentially wrote a completely true account of a singular hedonistic Saturday night that was had one weekend, when us small town folk were so unbelievably bored with everything, we did everything going (as the generation that was raised watching Skins, scuzzy nights were the norm). The short story brings way more vivid memories of my misspent youth than any highly-posed photographs do. I kept the first page of my first play because there were dozens upon dozens of rewrites to get it to where it ended up, and it’s nice to remember that everything has to start somewhere.
  2. We’re Going On A Bear Hunt by Michael Rosen and Helen Oxenbury. I considered throwing this but a dear friend of mine bought it for my birthday during a particularly rocky year (I was 19 or something and despite it having about 30 words all in all it was such a thoughtful gift). There’s something about not being able to go over or under it – we have to go through it! – that is so immediately comforting.
  3. Wayne’s World.
  4. Wayne’s World 2.
  5. One of three ABBA Gold CDs (the other two are headed for a Peterborough British Heart Foundation, on your marks…)

Anyway, on another note, I’m pretty surprised that spring hasn’t immediately followed Christmas again. The same thing happens each year; I forget there’s at least another 60 long nights and early mornings before things start brightening up. As such, here are 10 songs of the alternative seasonal kind to wind down to this winter *fades in music*… 

https://open.spotify.com/embed/user/pocketcup/playlist/4Ivq9tWs6RRv1MDuH687QD

(If you like a seasonal playlist, I did one about ‘Spring’ last year, an arguably better month and – whisper it – an arguably better playlist, too).

Off The Record – Fleet Foxes, Fleet Foxes

In ‘Off the Record’, I write about music that I’ve played over and over and over and over, even though it might not be cool or new or undiscovered. Most likely, these will be albums that have been written about time and time again, but, nonetheless, hold a very dear place in my heart. I will also only allow the length of the album’s running time to write about it (as both a time-saver and a challenge).

I first wrote about Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On. Next up: Fleet Foxes’ eponymous debut LP. *presses play*

The opening seconds of this album are so nostalgic to listen to. “Red squirrel in the morning, red squirrel in the evening, red squirrel in the morning, I’m coming to take you home.” Utter nonsense, but a truly memorable opener to this, one of the most stunning debut albums ever recorded (in my humble opinion, obviously).

Let’s first up talk about why I decided to write about this for my Off the Shelf mini-series, where I write about albums (cool or uncool, well-known or obscure) in the time it takes to listen to them. I didn’t discover some of the great folk singers from the ‘60s and ‘70s until my mid-teens because I was listening to this Fleet Foxes album on repeat. The album was released in 2008 (when I was 12! how terrible it is to be 12 years old!), the same year my dad took me to see the band at Cambridge Junction, a tiny and intimate venue where we stood a metre or so from the band’s psuedo-shy-turned-Instagram-king frontman, Robin Pecknold. The experience of being at that gig was like nothing I’d ever experienced (and have not experienced since).

On my dad’s recommendation, I’d listened to the album a few times before we went, and I really liked it. It’s complex but accessible, the harmonies are unbelievably pleasing to the ear (and immensely satisfying to the ex-cathedral chorister in me). The album was immediately comforting to hear; so wintry, so cosy (despite the fact it was released in June). The artwork (which must have really helped this album get noticed) is so perfectly apt for it. I didn’t know of Pieter Bruegel’s work before, but as a culture-hungry pre-teen I scoured Tumblr for more Bruegel afterwards. There’s a couple of Bruegel works in the National Gallery, and I remember one weekend stumbling upon them when I came to London for the day, all sulky and broke. “That’s my band!”, I thought, when I saw it. “The motherf***in’ Foxes!” Appropriating Renaissance paintings, like the Tabloid Art History Twitter account, but IRL.

Anyway, listening to the album has now progressed in such a way that we’re now on the fourth track, Tiger Mountain Peasant Song. This, again, is hugely reminiscent of my early teens, sitting on my bed in a box room in the countryside, wincing at the pain of calloused fingers as I tried to learn the tab for this song on the guitar my parents got me for my 13th birthday. It also reminds me of the viral video that got First Aid Kit a record deal. Warning: this is so #forest vibes, and so 2010. And, jeez, they look SO young

It’s now dawned on me that I know pretty much every word of this album. I’m finding it tricky to write as I’m singing along too hard! On He Doesn’t Know Why, you can hear Father John Misty’s, the artist formerly known as J. Tillman, lovely, thumping drums. And then, that gorgeous, a-third-apart piano sound at the end. My, my, my, does this album even get the credit it deserves? *pauses to fangirl*

Strangely, as in reverse (and probably not uncommon for those of us born in ‘96), it was this fashionable late-Noughties era of folk that got me listening to the music that influenced it, and thus changed my life forever. So, your Fleet Foxes’ and Laura Marling debut of ‘08, the whole Mumford and Sons shit, etc, ad infinitum, got me reading lots of interviews with the bands which oft referenced artists such as Neil Young (solo and with Crosby, Still and Nash) Bob Dylan and Joni Mitchell. Therefore, I owe a lot to this band.

Now, we’ve reached Meadowlarks. Another that’s quite easy to learn the guitar part to (a surefire dealbreaker of the music you’re listening to when you’re learning an instrument) and I yearned for a group of muso-loving friends who’d come round and sing it with me. I actually recorded two of the harmonies on this track and sang along to it (one on my PC, one of my phone. Yes, PC. The family PC). 

Track number 10, Blue Ridge Mountains, is baffling in the way you might think: ‘How is this album getting better and better? It’s less than 40 minutes long!’ The melody in the verse punches and rises in an uplifting, timeless and determined way; a melody written by a 19-year-old Pecknold. The record ends with a jaw-dropping track recorded in the 1500s (jk), Oliver James, which, when we went to see the band at the Junction, was performed acapella by Pecknold. I will never forget the atmosphere in that room as the audience stood there, transfixed. It was truly magnificent, and it’s what keeps me going to see live music – the chance that you might stumble across a moment like that, where the world stops and a group of strangers share an experience that won’t ever be repeated in the same way again. 

This album remains on my shelf as it captures a very distinct part of my adolescence: long winters crushing on boys who thought I was a lesbian, wearing fleecy lumberjack shirts, and familiarising myself with basic guitar chords, frustrated yet determined by the horrible truth that I couldn’t quite play what’s recorded on the album. I still can’t. It’s a modern classic.

Listen to it on Spotify now

 

Off the Record – What’s Going On, Marvin Gaye – 4/10/17

On August 1st, I tweeted that I wanted to write more about new music, but was struggling to, because all I ever found myself listening to was Marvin Gaye’s 1971 album What’s Going On.

marvin gaye

I’d been living in Wi-Fi-less existence for the past month, having just moved house. It is hard to be 21 years old and without internet for a month. It is, however, a great opportunity to rediscover CDs you might not have listened to in a while.

This isn’t the case for What’s Going On, though. I listen to it on the regular, in a way that must annoy the neighbours. I’d just finished listening to it for the first time that day, and was walking over to the stereo to press play again. Then, I had a thought. Rather than two-stepping to it in the mirror for the second time in an hour, I’d write about it in the time it takes to listen to it the whole through. Thus, the idea for a new mini-series of pieces of writing was born.

In ‘Off the Record’, I will write about music that I’ve played over and over and over and over, even though it might not be cool or new or undiscovered. Most likely, these will be albums that have been written about time and time again, but, nonetheless, hold a very dear place in my heart. I will also only allow the length of the album’s running time to write about it (as both a time-saver and a challenge).

First up: Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On. *presses play*

I bought What’s Going On in HMV in Wimbledon, around this time last year, in a 2 for £10 deal with Frank Ocean’s Channel Orange. I’d just moved into my first flat in London with girls I didn’t know, and fancied a couple of new CDs so I could quickly cook my dinner, avoiding eye contact, then sit in my room all night listening to music.

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After very nearly settling for the Notorious B.I.G’s Greatest Hits to complete the combo deal (which wouldn’t have been so bad, in hindsight), I couldn’t help but be drawn to Gaye’s omniscient look in his eyes on the cover of What’s Going On, plus, that collar (it was autumn 2016 – black PVC coats were seriously in).

I also thought that it was probably an album worth listening to, after all, it was one of those classics that you’d often see in Best Of lists, and famous musicians had often noted it as one of their favourite albums (including Bruce Springsteen, who said it was one of the greatest albums ever recorded, in his Desert Island Discs).

Once I’d got home, I played Ocean’s Channel Orange, and I liked it. It felt quite long (an ideal album for me is 10 tracks long, no more, no less) but I could see why people raved about it. I could really imagine making out to the album, for example, so it was good for something.

Then I put the Marvin Gaye disc in the player, and those opening bars of the title track seemed so familiar, like these were sounds that I’d heard – and enjoyed – many times before. Gaye’s voice has such a warm, soulful tone, and the way the first track just fades in (and each track bleeds over to the next one until the SEVENTH song) is magic, on recorded format. The production is second to none.

Its his 11th studio album, and very different to his previous work (some of Gaye’s best-known singles from the ’60s include Ain’t No Mountain High Enough and You’re All I Need to Get By – whereas this was released in ’71, at a time when tensions around the Vietnam War were high, something that influenced the themes of the album).

The opener is everything: Marv asking for peace (‘War is not the answer/For only love can conquer hate’), before going into something still relevant regarding police brutality in America today (‘Picket line, and picket signs/Don’t punish me with brutality/Talk to me, so you can see/What’s going on’).

This glides into a huge stand-out second track, What’s Happening Brother, (‘War is hell, when will it end/When will people start getting together again?’) before the rest of the album takes you to places, musically and emotionally, that ensure it’ll be an album you’ll listen to time and time again. There is so much there – you have to. It is a work of pure magic.

One of my ultimate favourite tracks on the album is God is Love, so much so that it made me consider a very low-key faith in Christianity at a time that I was Seriously Into This Album (but then neglected, after I realised I wasn’t into God as much as I was into Marvin Gaye). God is Love runs straight in from the previous track, Save the Children, and there’s something about the way the time signature changes and launches into ‘Do do doo doo doo, do do doo doo doo’ before the falling ‘Oh, don’t go and talk about my father/God is my friend (and I love him!)’ vocal that sends a shiver down my spine.

This stonker of a track then launches into Mercy Mercy Me (The Ecology), one of the greatest songs of its time (and therefore ever), asking what the f*** has happened to the O-zone layer, and ‘how much more abuse from Man can she stand?’ – which is still applicable now, but with an added 46 years of fossil fuels. Aside from the lyrics, the melancholic sighs of Gaye’s vocal complements the falling melody, making for a quietly exasperated plea asking, ‘Where did all the blue skies go?’ (something that is emotionally relatable on any rainy day, actual or metaphorical).

My boyfriend bought me a Marvin Gaye top for my birthday with the words: ‘Only love can conquer hate’ written on it (from the title track) – and, as cheesy as it seems (and is), that’s the essence of this album’s message.

I’m reaching the end of my time listening to this album, and while the above will get a necessary amount of editing, I want to stick to my plan to stop writing once the record has wound up. It is an utter joy to listen to this album, and I’ve definitely listened to it at least three times a week since I bought it a year ago. It cost me a fiver, and it’s had such a hugely positive impact on my life. It helped me through an incredibly rough patch earlier this year, as what it offers is the idea that a belief in hope – and a trust in love – will ultimately outweigh the bad in the world. It’s a beautiful message. (I’m not stoned, I promise). It also makes me rate Bruce Springsteen even more highly (if that’s possible), as, if the Boss says it’s the greatest album ever recorded, your mind should be made up anyway, before even listening to it.

If you’d like to, though, here it is:

Sunday Playlist: ‘Food’ – 9/7/17

Food, glorious food! Hot sausage and mustard! (You know, I realise now that I must have grown up a bit, because before, that ‘hot sausage and mustard’ lyric used to sound gross, but hot sausage and mustard now sounds so delicious. Pease pudding, which comes later in the song from Oliver!, still sounds gross, mind.)

FOOD! I’ve pulled together playlists on the most random of themes before, but – until TODAY – have yet to line up 10 songs in a sort-of considered order about the thing that brings several moments of joy into my life each day – food.

So, without further ado *clears throat and chokes on biscuit*, here are songs you can play while you’re standing by the microwave. ‘Come and get it!’

Hear it here.

June edition: Things on the internet that are worth their URLs – 7/6/17

Some things you can look at on the internet other than this blog post: a list, by me. 

Why, hello there! I’ve been meaning to post something on here for so long, but then other things always crop up (Food shopping! Commuting! Clipping my toenails!) so it gets pushed down to the gutter of the to-do list.

Alas, while I’ve been knees deep in spreadsheets, sorting out my personal finance – when I should be packing a lifetime’s amount of hedonism into my newly entered 21st year – other people on the internet have been making some REALLY good shit, some of which I am honoured to share with you here.

There’s some serious stuff re: tomorrow’s impending election (duh duh duuuuhh), enthusiast audio #content in podcast form and a beautiful article about the process of making an album that’s going to be one of the greatest of 2017, because Our Lady Patti Smith has a test pressing in her sacred hands and she is SMILING:

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So rather than this blog post being a DESTINATION this evening, think of it as some guidance within the vast abyss online that is the World Wide Web, pointing you towards URLs worth your time. But if you’re reading this on Thursday, and you’re a UK citizen, stop scrolling right now and go and VOTE! VOTE! VOTE! VOTE! I’LL MAKE EVERYONE WHO VOTES A BUTTON BADGE OR SOMETHING! WELL, NOT EVERYONE OBVIOUSLY, BUT YOU! YOU! VOTE! VOTE! BUTTON BADGE! VOTE! TAKE AN ‘I VOTED’ SELFIE IF YOU HAVE TO! AND I WILL MAKE YOU A BUTTON BADGE! JUST GO AND VOTE!

Anyway, and on that note:

If you want to see how women across the UK have been feeling in the run-up to this snap general election, watch this video series from The Debrief interviewing 20-somethings across the UK about their thoughts on the policies, the parties and the politicians themselves (why does alliteration always induce so much smugness?) This particular link brings you through to the article about Derby North, the most marginal constituency in the UK. But – as you’ll see in the video – the marginal seat doesn’t spark the sort of enthusiasm and excitement you’d think a two-horse race might. Vice has also released a video about the upcoming election, focusing specifically on the issues that Brexit has pushed aside, and ones that don’t feature heavily in the manifestos, including homelessness, climate change and ‘forgotten cities’. It fucking breaks my heart when Vice journo and hilarious human being Amelia Dimoldenberg hears from a group of Stoke lads that every single nightclub in town has closed down and she’s like, “What!” My hometown is a bit like that – or was heading down that way for a bit, anyway – and while it might not seem like that much of a big deal, it can have such a detrimental effect on the city and the people living there, it’s mad. (Ooh, just so I can share this again because I think it is excellent, Vice also ran a feature called ‘Home Coming‘ where its writers revisited the places where they grew up and it makes for COMPELLING stuff. Or maybe not. Idk. I’m obsessed with the idea of growing up in a dead-end town, so much so, I WROTE A PLAY ABOUT IT! But I can’t link out to that cause it’d be a 30-page PDF. If you missed it at the time, you’ve missed it. Anyway. Anyway.)

If you want a podcast, listen to these wonderful pop music musings on Unbreak My Chart. It’s a half-hour chat between two music writers, Fraser MacAlpine and Laura Snapes, having a jolly ol’ time talking about the top 10 singles in the chart that week. They also talk about new releases across the genres, so if you’re too cool for Bieber, you can be mildly content with the fact that they also mentioned Arcade Fire and Liam Gallagher in the last one. It’s not at all sneering or pretentious, just two people bouncing off each other, reveling in the glory of all things pop. With great adjectives! As shown by the outpour of emotion following the tragic terrorist attack at the Ariana Grande concert in Manchester last month, and the OneLove megastar concert last weekend, this podcast places the importance of pop music highly – right where it belongs. 

If you want to read about how the creative process isn’t any one thing, read this interview with Robin Pecknold about Fleet Foxes’ upcoming album Crack-Up. FF frontman and indie-folk dreamboat Robin Pecknold spoke to the New York Times about ‘getting out to get back in’, in preparation to record an album that is so hotly anticipated by me, and others, that I GENUINELY HAVE A REMINDER ON MY PHONE TO GO OUT AND BUY IT.

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Kyle Johnson for the New York Times

In it, along with other juicy revealers as to why Father John Misty packed up and left, he dishes out this gem for anyone who is ever considering recording an album/creating something, ever: “[We thought] If we’re going to do this, it has to be something that’s not going to make us want to kill ourselves.”

And on that note, I’m out. Not in the way you’d think I mean by saying ‘on that note’ – but logging out. Bye.