what did you do in the pandemic, daddy? (2)

First part of this nonsense here.

11. Fiona Apple - "Fetch The Bolt Cutters"
Album of the Year 2
I've never listened to her before and had assumed that it wouldn't be my sort of thing. But the reviews it received made me check this out on Spotify when it was released digitally and it blew me away. Great, unglossy vocals, bonkers rhythms, timely lyrics. She's "pissed off, funny and warm", grieving, raging and full of life. Sort of like the ultimate 2020 mindset. And it really doesn't sound like anything else I've heard all year. 

Bought with birthday Norman Records vouchers along with...

12. Laura Marling - "Song For Our Daughter"
LM soundtracked Little Ms D's birth so we haven't really wanted to revisit her work since then. But she is a great artist (triggering memories aside) and I wanted this after hearing her appearance on the Adam Buxton podcast (Now, I love Buckles but she came across a lot better than him - he'd not really done even minimal research). Anyway this is just obviously great.

13. Miles Davis Quintet - "Freedom Jazz Dance: The Bootleg Series, Vol. 5"
Bargain triple heavyweight vinyl? Featuring complete studio reels of Miles Davis' second great quintet working through pieces in exquisite unedited detail? With studio banter? Where do I sign up?!

14. Deerhoof - "Bibidi Babidi Boo"
Free download from Bandcamp of random live and radio sessions. How much Hoof is too much Hoof? No such thing! I've got a fever! And the only prescription is MORE HOOF!

15. Oneness of Juju - "African Rhythms 1970-1982"
Triple vinyl bought direct from Strut Records. Juju play a mix of African rhythms with jazz, classic funk and R'n'B. Came with a free download version of the album which has almost twice as many tracks than are on the vinyl.

 

16. Jonathan Richman - "I, Jonathan"
Ah lovely Jonathan Richman, surely everyone's favourite gentle punk rock 'n' roller. First ever vinyl release of his fourth solo album from 1992, bought with yet more Norman Records birthday vouchers. Includes his brilliant tribute to the Velvet Underground (which sounds nothing like them but also kind-of does) and the classic "I Was Dancing In The Lesbian Bar". Naive? Not a bit of it. Beautiful and soulful.

17. Guided by Voices - "Alien Lanes" - 25th anniversary limited edition swirly multicoloured vinyl
Bought from - where else? - Norman Records. Actually one of the first things I ordered at the start of spring but it wasn't  released until the end of August. GBV were a band which I took a long time to love but now they're one of my all time favourites. And there's a lot to love. Their discography currently stands at 30 studio albums, 19 EPs, 39 singles and more. The actor Paddy Considine was once asked what was the most expensive thing he'd ever bought. He said an original pressing of GBV's fifth album "Propellor". 

18.  Roger Nichols & The Small Circle Of Friends - s/t
Because for all my talk of brutal hip hop, Lo-Fi guitar noise and avant jazz, I do have a deep and abiding love of a particular type of 1960s soft psychedelic sunshine pop. With close vocal harmonies. Way back in the early days of borrowing  CDs and burning MP3s, I copied a handful of tracks from this album, borrowed from one of Mrs D's work colleagues. 14 years later I decided I needed to hear the rest of it and got a CD from the Discogs marketplace.

19. Angel Olsen - "Whole New Mess" on limited edition translucent smoke-effect vinyl
As (almost) an earlier version of last year's "All Mirrors", this is way better than it should be. I like the orchestral treatment on much of the 2019 album but I definitely prefer the simple guitar-voice-and-occasional-organ arrangements here. Plus the handful of tracks which didn't make it to the later recorded but first released album are some of my favourites she has ever done.

20. Deerhoof - "Love-Lore"
Album of the Year 3
Just when I think I can't love them any more they release this, essentially a mixtape which the band performed live in the studio. Available free from their Bandcamp page. Features avant garde compositions, jazz reimagining, Eddy Grant, The B-52s and the theme to Knight Rider.

what did you do in the pandemic, daddy? (1)

Well I bought a shit ton of music for a start! At an almost Steve-in-his-college-years level. 

Let's Dissect!

1. They Might Be Giants - "Flood" 30th anniversary picture disc LP
So pretty!

2. Polvo - "Today's Active Lifestyles" 25th anniversary vinyl reissue on multi-coloured vinyl
41 minutes of the mathest of all math rock, springy guitars and proggy time signatures. Plus the vinyl is a beautiful thing. Bought from the mighty Norman Records. Sign up to explore their brilliant selection and experience their fantastic customer service here and I'll love you forever.

3. Deerhoof - "Halfbird"
4. Deerhoof - "Milk Man"
5. Rattle - "Sequence"
6. clipping. - "There Existed An Addiction To Blood"
These were all bought as downloads in the first Bandcamp Friday - a day when the music retail site waives its fees to ensure that the artists receive as much money as possible during the COVID lockdown. Rattle are from Nottingham and they were brilliant when I saw them supporting Black Midi last year.
clipping. (punctuation artist's own) are a horror rap band. This isn't quite as good as I wanted it to be but still has some cracking tracks on it.
Deerhoof are one of my favourite bands and I took this opportunity to get more of their stuff. "Halfbird" is pretty raw but "Milk Man" is fantastic.
My key early lockdown homeschooling successes were teaching Little Ms D the words to "Birdhouse In Your Soul" and getting her into Deerhoof. Especially this track. #ParentingGoals 

7. Kendrick Lamar "To Pimp A Butterfly" double vinyl set
The best album of the 21st Century so far? I bought this on download pretty much the second it came out but when I had a chance to buy a cheap copy on vinyl (from RecordStore.co.uk) it would've been daft not to.

8. Run The Jewels - "RTJ4"
Album of the Year 1.
Just amazing, with timeless themes which are still horribly relevant to America today. Run The Jewels always release their albums as free downloads (making their money through merch, physical copies and live performances) but with this one they asked people to donate to organisations protecting the rights of people protesting the police killing of George Floyd and racial injustice in the United States.
I (almost) ended up live-blogging my first listen (during a Tysabri infusion!) on Instagram.

9. LCD Soundsystem - "Electric Lady Sessions"
Solid versions of LCD classics and cheeky covers, recorded live in the iconic studio. Better than the similarly conceived "London Sessions" from a couple of years ago. I bought this on vinyl from RecordStore.com but it was regifted to me for my birthday. 

10. Damaged Bug - "Bug On Yonkers"

Limited Edition multicoloured vinyl pressing of bizarro outsider art psychedelic skronk-fest from the leader of Thee Oh Sees, who are a band I'm not that fussed about but this is great. Very groovy, loads of keyboards and who doesn't love a band with two drummers?

Find out more about Michael Yonkers here.

quite reassuring

I got a letter from my neurologist the other day (if you're as old skool as me, your next thought will be, "I opened and read it, it said they were suckers" but I digress). 

My letter said the following:

I am pleased to inform you that brain MRI compared to the previous scan did not reveal any new lesions.

And then:

This is quite reassuring. 

Quite reassuring?! If we're looking for a two-word summary, I'd probably go for, "Bloody marvellous" or something similar. But maybe that's just me. 

At the very least it means that Tysabri is doing its job (reducing relapses). And all without so much of the MRI-visible side effects (brain infection). If this the most I can hope for, let me have it, yeah?

Ah well, it did make me laugh, mostly because I can totally hear him saying it. Very low-key. 

I told the MS nurses the next time I saw them and they thought it was funny too. This then led on to a discussion about the florid eyebrows sported by all the neuros at the hospital. I think it's a sign that they're so engaged with their work that they don't have time for frivolities such as manscaping. 

I have plenty of time for taking care of my eyebrows. And yet they remain, resolutely, OFF. THE. HOOK.

song for a future generation

I am tired, I am afraid
My heart is full of dread
"Soldier" by Richard Dawson 

This was the unnecessarily "on the nose" soundtrack to my last #tysabri infusion which was no fun at all. It was so long ago, I'm almost ready to go back for my next one. 

I started writing a blog post during that infusion but it was so whiny and angsty that I decided to shelve it until the moment passed. 

Obviously I'm still waiting. 

In a sense, life is - for everyone - an endless, perpetual NOW. Things change and they stay the same. Rules change, restrictions are lifted but the results are the same. 

Life seems to have returned to how it was in February / March. My sleep has certainly returned to how it was then - sporadic and unsatisying!

A complete lockdown seems inevitable so we're stealing ourselves. We're trying to stay abreast of the developments but also trying to stay sane. Keeping things light for our daughter but preparing for when everything changes again. 

I can't help feeling that there will be some kind of global outbreak of post-traumatic stress if/when this ever ends. Yes, my flippant response to anyone asking me how it has been for us is, "Well, I don't go out that much so no change there". 

But really, the first lockdown came at a time when I'd got a little braver at taking risks. Longtime visitors will know that my self-confidence has taken a battering over the years, as my mobility has gone south.

(This is not a situation which is unique to me, obviously)

But at the end of 2019 and at the start of this year, I had been getting better. At leaving the house, at taking (small, calculated) chances. And in the last month or so I've been made aware that I've reverted to my past bad behaviours. Staying in whenever possible and having mild panic attacks whenever I do leave the house. And freaking out if things don't go to plan. 

The pandemic is an exhausting situation for everyone but surely it has to be particularly bad for anyone living with some kind of chronic illness. Not least because of the fact we're seen as canon fodder or collateral damage. 

And all this is even without considering the utterly terrifying prospect of Long COVID. 

But at the same time, we've seen that accessibility IS possible. More and more events have been streamed online. Working from home has been normalised. For god's sake, even my mum and dad are doing their grocery shopping online. 

With the emphasis on getting back to normal, going out to work and supporting the economy, are things eventually going to revert to how they were?

Maybe this will be the lasting trauma from COVID for the chronic illness community. The memory that there was a time when events were accessible and remote working was encouraged. A time when the general populace had a little insight into the fears that disabled / chronically ill people have lived with for years.

That your continued good health is not a god given right. That no-one's job is secure. 

After all that, it would be terrible if everything just returned to the way it was before. 

I am tired, I am afraid
My heart is full of hope
"Soldier" by Richard Dawson

National Trust and disabled access during COVID-19

This might come across a bit #middleclassproblem but stick with me.

We've been members of the National Trust for years. As parents of a young (and seemingly inexhaustible) child, we're always looking for ways to use up some of her energy. And getting out in the open air is good for us all.  

PLUS there is, at most properties, excellent parking, great toilet facilities and a place to get lunch and a decent cup of tea. Also, in our experience they really seem to "get" accessibility. 

We live pretty much smack bang in the middle of the country so we've got some great places to visit on our doorstep.  

Sudbury Hall can provide a buggy service from the car park to the property. A similar scheme at Calke Abbey can get you right the way across the whole property.

Our nearest National Trust site is Kedleston Hall, which you might recognise from The Duchess. 

On a visit earlier this year they provided an off-road wheelchair (which was like a regular one but with BMX bike tyres) that by all accounts was a lot easier to push on the short circular walk. It was certainly comfier than my own chair.

HOWEVER…

(You knew that was coming, right?)

We went to Kedleston last week. Obviously in the light of the Coronavirus pandemic, the hall isn't open and we had to book our slot to have a trip around the park and gardens. 

So far no biggie. Forward planning and preparation are the norm for us.

But when we asked if the off-road chairs were available, we were told no. We kind of expected it but afterwards we couldn't help wondering why?

Yes, we know about the pandemic and the bloody New Normal and all that. But...

Why is disabled access the first thing to go out the window? 

Is it too difficult to wipe things down between uses? Supermarkets seem able to do it.

We'd even be prepared to provide our own Flash wipes. 

*other antibacterial wipes are available

Like I say, we expected it. And to some extent we accepted it. 

But the edge was taken off our day. And it was exhausting. 

My chair is heavier to push so Mrs D was worn out. Because I knew she was struggling, I forced myself to walk more than I probably should have. Which was severely fatiguing, which in turn made my walking worse, which was distressing for my family to see. 

The worst thing is...

It's not just at Kedleston

The accessibility options at other local sites such as the ones I mentioned above are currently severely curtailed too.

It's enough to make me feel paranoid.

I've already talked about the fact that people with pre-existing conditions during this pandemic are like the red-shirted officers from the original series of Star Trek. We get it, we're disposable. If not a downright annoyance.

This article in today's Guardian by Frances Ryan notes the fact that, during lockdown, with working from home, cultural events and venues being accesible online...

It was frustrating and joyful, obvious and revelatory. The secret was out: the world could be accessible. Inequality was actually a choice.

But now that things are starting to open up, are those of us with access requirements just meant to stay indoors indefinitely? 

Now don't get me wrong. I know this is only the case with regards to our free time and doing things which could benefit our mental health. We should forget about doing THOSE. 

But if it's getting our butts back into work? 

Come out, come out wherever you are!

By the way, I know Judy G had some substance issues (that's putting it mildly), but the description to this clip is, "Dorothy is recognized as a heroin of Munchkin Land".

Dark times.

the thing about the heartsick shut-in

This brilliant song by They Might Be Giants was my earworm this morning. It made me laugh, the way that clever, rhythmically precise lyrics can.

And then I really started to pay attention to them.

Renew my subscription
To "Desperate Bellowing Magazine"
It sure does have a familiar ring
You might say I fit the description
Renew my subscription
To "Miserable Freak Show Quarterly"
Every back-number I saw spoke to me
Acknowledging it's my addiction

Although it would be natural to be tired of feeling like a "heartsick-shut-in", nearly five months into the UK's delayed lock-down, in all honestly it hasln't involved massive changes to my everyday life.

• Still working? Yep*
• Too much? Possibly
• Going out regularly? Well, as much as ever (i.e. not so much)

* By the way, the fact that the government has stopped shielding vulnerable people with chronic health conditions and is effectively forcing them back into work makes me sick. I’d hoped that the pandemic would make employers appreciate the value of remote working. I guess I missed a meeting. 

As I mentioned before, I've been getting more regular exercise than I have in years. In fact, I'm still displaying more commitment to the Joe Wicks exercise videos than the man himself. It became part of our home-schooling schedule so we carried on doing weekday mornings even when Joe went part-time. Plus me and Little Ms D did extra sessions on weekends, and we're still going.

Recently there has been a bit of talk about swimming pools reopening. Much as I miss swimming, I can't imagine anything less likely at the moment.

Like a kind of filthy, random stock-pot! Yikes.

On the couple of occasions I've been to the hospital for my Tysabri infusion, when asked the standard question about if I have any alergies, I have said, "Only other people." I really don't have much faith in the British public's much vaunted stock of common sense.

I mean, it's never a good sign when American friends send WhatsApp messages, mocking events such as the terrible scenes at Bournemouth last month. That's right. American people, from AMERICA, think that we're idiots.

A catchphrase of mine and the divine Mrs D's was prompted by a story on our local news programme. This was immediately after the announcement that people could book foreign holidays, a ruling that, in itself, didn't last that long.

I'm sure that, as I write, the official line is that people are being encouraged to book holidays in order to support the tourism industry. However, they should expect not to be able to travel. I'm pretty sure that, had I ever been arsed to finish reading Catch 22, this might make some kind of sense.

Anyway, in the news report that evening, they interviewed a woman who was going towards check-in with her kids. They asked her why she was travelling. She said something along the lines of, "The schools aren't in, and we'd seen that bookings were possible, so we just thought, 'Why not?'"

To which we responded, "Because there's a frigging GLOBAL PANDEMIC!"

So "we just thought, 'Why not?'" has been a recurring joke, whenever another brainfart recommendation has been mooted. Maybe we have a slightly more sensitive attitude towards risk than most people.

I wanna be a much better person
Instead I worsen with every day
But there's a drug whose name I'm not sure of
Which I need more of to feel okay

Read the full lyrics to Renew My Subscription.

remembering live music 4: the missed and the misunderstood

A quick detour from these posts - which could come over as "cooler than thou I WAS THERE" grandstanding - I'm going to talk about a few artists that I either missed or just didn't get at the time.

1. Pavement, Derby Wherehouse, May/June 1992

Yes, this was the band's first ever UK gig. Yes, they were all over the British music press. And yes, this was a hot-shit ticket.

But I only went because a friend of mine from college got a ticket. At the time, I was a right snooty so-and-so who saw them as a complete rip-off of The Fall.

But, y'know, the difference was they wrote HUMMABLE SONGS and seemed to be charming and amusing people.

There was one writer in Melody Maker who at the time called skronk avant-garde guitar manglers Trumans Water the REAL Pavement. Which is a statement I agreed with but which is, in retrospect, so needlessly arsey it's ridiculous.

The gig was packed (ooh look, there's the drummer from The Wedding Present!) plus it was a beautiful sunny evening.

Pavement were ramshackle. And cute. And charming. And their original loose-cannon drummer Gary did handstands and chatted with the crowd.

But I just didn't get it. Even though I can still remember some of the tunes they played that night. Because HUMMABLE SONGS.

At the time I preferred the support act, Jacob's Mouse (no, me neither).

I still listen to Trumans Water. But nowhere near as much as I've listened to Pavement in the years since this gig, right up to the present day.

I even wrote huge sections of my University dissertation about their second album, Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain. TRUE STORY.

2. The Strokes, Sheffield Leadmill, 23 August 2001

Another gig that I was dragged to by friends - Simon and Annabel. This was one of their first UK tours but even though all the influences and references were there, again I JUST DIDN'T GET IT.

Was I threatened by how insanely cool and attractive they were? I wouldn't like to say. But probably, yes. Definitely.

They were supported by The Moldy Peaches, who were cute but annoying after a while. I actually listened to them while writing this post and I really enjoyed them.

I think at the time The Strokes didn't even have that many songs so I think they just played tracks from their forthcoming (?) album. Maybe even in the album order?

God, they were cool.

And looking back now, they were everything I want in a band. Locked-in together, no flash, no gimmicks, chops for days.

About 6 months after this gig - so almost exactly 6 months after everyone else in the world - I borrowed the CD of Is This It from Annabel and finally understood. Now I think that if anyone wants to learn how to play alternative/indie-rock guitar they should just play along with this album. It's all there.

As if to prove a point, I've just spent 15 minutes watching live footage of them from around this time. They was great.

I'd completely forgotten that both Moldy Peaches and The Strokes were tainted by the shadow of 9-11: The Strokes first album came out at the end of August 2001 and featured New York City Cops ("...they ain't too smart"); The Moldy Peaches album actually came out on September 11 2001 and featured the song "NYC's Like a Graveyard" - ouch.

3. Bill Hicks, Sheffield University, 26 November 1992

This one hurts but confession is good for the soul. Also, not music although he had a rock-star attitude.

This gig took place during my first year studying at Sheffield Uni. With my brother I'd devoured Bill Hicks' legendary 1991 comedy set Relentless when it was shown on Channel 4. Politically he was light-years ahead and had a great, no-bullshit persona.

Dreadful hair and glasses, however.

His '92 UK tour was around the time he recorded his Revelations set. At the time The Guardian and various left-wing comedians were all hymning his act with its politically edgy material. It turns out Bill didn't want to be idolised. He also didn't like the idea that people felt they had a handle on him.

So for that recording - in front of an audience of paid-up believers and his peers - he launched into an extended, skin-crawlingly appaling bit which saw him adopt the persona of Pan The Randy Goat Boy.

It's truly horrible. But point made.

Two years later Bill died of pancreatic cancer at the age of 32. His legend has only grown in subsequent years. Some of his political material would be entirely relevant now if you could just change the names.

Truth be told his sexually explicit material would have been his downfall had he survived. I dread to think what he would've made of the #MeToo movement or issues of rights for trans people. And some of his material hasn't aged at all well. But that's comedy, right?

So anyway. On his final UK tour (?), he played down the road from me, at the University where I was studying.

And I didn't go. 

Worse than that, I didn't go because I couldn't be arsed.

Nurrrr...