The Afterword

Musings on the byways of popular culture

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Humanity and forgiveness. Wherefore art thou in the British body politic today?

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Shamima Begum; at the age of 15 she did something really dumb. Now older, possibly wiser, certainly damaged by the intervening years, she wants to come back to the place where she grew up, with her new born child, to escape from the madness and the corruption that has surrounded her in Syria.

In the name of humanity, why are we not welcoming the return of the prodigal? Isn’t the refusal of that charity the very reason why we abhor the extremists in the first place? Wouldn’t our ability to respond with love & kindness be the perfect refutation of their ideology?

Take Three Girls – who resign their Tory party membership – and maybe something profound has started?

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So three of the most reasonable members of the Tory benches have decided that enough’s enough – and with a proud two fingers to the ERG and the DUP they are also off, resigning the whip and ploughing an independent line, at least for the moment.

Is this the start of a movement away from the margins, back into something with a broader appeal than the dusty carpeted halls of CCO or the formica tables & plastic cups of the sackcloth & ashes wing of the Labour Party?

I truly hope it is. Your thoughts, once more?

Tory hegemony for the rest of our natural? Slow decline into chaos? Good riddance?

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So Chuka and pals have jumped ship.

Does that split the difference and doom us all to seeing endless wittering nonentities from the beige corridors of provincial Conservative Clubs ease their sweaty bottoms onto the polished green leather benches and utter approving grunts to the ERG robots and the old-moneyed rural Tories for the next millennium? Or is this the first spring shoots of a revival of a centre-left with the heft to pull the UK screaming into the 21st century?

Or should I just concentrate on building up the tinned food stash, the log pile and the bottled water lake while keeping my head down?

Down the Old Kent Road, me old cock sparrer, cor blimey, apples an’ pears, luvaduck

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I’ve a few minutes to share this before descending into a day-long “workshop” (viz: Alexei’s immortal utterance) all about “Human Resource” information systems, so I’ll just have time to say that it’s a fab selection of paintings, by a woman called Doreen Fletcher, of everyday London – displaying a sweet innocence, humour and a great eye for detail.

Well worth your perusal – I was both charmed and impressed, and glad these made it into the light for more people to see.

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/in-pictures-46959155

Cara Dillon’s Christmas tour comes to Bristol

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Venue:

St. Georges, Bristol

Date: 19/12/2018

What a very special evening! Entrancing from the first number to the rousing encores.

We witnessed a perfectly judged sequence of songs and instrumentals conjuring up all aspects, secular and religious, of this profoundly felt time of year, as the planet begins to turn us once more towards the warming days of the next year.

The night was magical, reflective, human, spiritual and deeply rooted in the natural world of music, people, and the world in which we all have to rub along somehow; a real morale booster in troubled times.

If you want to hear most of what we were treated to last night, you can buy their album ‘Upon A Winter’s Night’, which will warm your very cockles. Alternatively, if you are very lucky, there are a small number of gigs left on this tour – so get yourself there if you can; it’s a real cracker.

The audience:

The usual crowd at St. Georges, liberally sprinkled with Cara & Sam’s fans of course. Sold out, I’d say, with only a few empty seats – the foul weather or other circumstances had left only a couple of gaps in the » Continue Reading.

Mojo arrives with a charlatan on the cover. Subscription under threat.

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No, it’s not that Rees Mogg arse-wipe, and neither is it George Hunter (if only), it’s that monobrowed Manc charlatan who has somehow stretched a thin song-writing ability – just enough to produce the odd half decent Beatles pastiche – into a platform that allows him to spout arrant self-aggrandisement pretending to be self-effacing yet so loaded with hyperbole he even has the arrogance to name drop people like David Bowie.

Is it possible to get a subscription to Mojo that omits any mention of the fool, and are there artists for whom you wish the same sort of editing were possible too?

Well, that’s that then. Anyone else done the quiz?

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As eny fule kno, my political opinions are faultless, beyond reproach and sensible to the nth degree, and having done the 38 degress Brexit quiz, my results clearly show that we need to reject Breixit and remain in the EU while working to improve its future fortunes and direction.

Anyone who thinks otherwise is a smelly twot and will have their head put down the toilet while it is flushed.

*wobbly screen*

I would like to be the next Prime Minciter, due to my extraordinary leadership qualities and clear vision for our Nashnul Perlitical future. Apparently all I need is 48 votes or something. Er,

*screen wobbles again*

Hang on, I seem to have suffered a short-lived major neural catastophe just then there; I morphed into a Leaver for 30 seconds!

I certainly don’t want the poisoned chalice, any more than the Maybot does, but I have a huge advantage over here; I haven’t spent the last five decades mimsying about in local Conservative Clubs, giving anodyne speeches about traditional values, judging jam making contests, smiling inanely and raising funds for the local Round Table.

How much more of this chronic display of ineptitude are we prepared » Continue Reading.

Natacha Atlas

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Venue:

St. George’s, Bristol

Date: 08/11/2018

Last night I had a religious experience. It happened as I was sitting in the cosy surrounds of St. George’s in Bristol, my favourite venue, somewhere we’ve come to count on for transcendent evenings of great music. I sat six feet from Ryley Walker there when he played with Danny Thompson a year or two back, I saw the soles of Rick Wakeman’s sneakers, heard a squeak from a Steinway’s pedals as he regaled us with solo piano versions of Yes tracks and told us wondrous stories. I’ve danced in the aisles with what seemed like every Asian family in Bristol to the joyful sounds of Alaap, and wept quietly to countless orchestral moments of joy over the years. St. George’s continues to deliver the goods, and last night’s event was another absolute joy. Last night we went to see a singer and her band. She first came to my attention back in the dancing days of the nineties, when she added another layer of exotica to the international conglomerate of music that called itself Transglobal Underground. I bought her first couple of solo albums. She was still finding her way to an » Continue Reading.

Sunday quiz question, like, jus’ fer a laugh, la.

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Checking out the new edition of Mojo, I’m on pages 76-77, where Macca is pictured sitting in front of some shelves of vinlys. My eye is immediately drawn to an interesting detail.

Can anyone else tell me what the connection is between Paul and the album – a long time favourite of mine – that very clearly appears twice on the shelves behind him?

Hannah Sanders & Ben Savage

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Venue:

Frenchay Parish Hall

Date: 20/07/2018

I’m not a drummer, but last night I took two of my best friends to a gig, and they are both musicians. We went to the charming little hut that is Frenchay Parish Hall on the northern fringe of Bristol, where the local jumpers of Downend Folk club were hosting one of their coups of the year: Hannah Sanders & Ben Savage.

I’d heard of this pair some while back, but my consumption of English folk music has dropped away some in the last few years, overtaken by the tsunami of talent that seems to be emanating from America at present. I’d bought the first album, but not played it, and it was only when I saw their imminent arrival virtually on my doorstep that I spun it up to listen. What a revelation, they can both play and sing at a very accomplished level, and write gorgeous, intelligent, charming and thought-provoking songs in a variety of styles, making attendance at the gig pretty much mandatory for me.

So I dragged my musician pals along, neither of whom had heard the duo before. In support was a short, perfectly judged set from » Continue Reading.