Lockdown 3 (Day 19) In Tune

It would be ridiculous to file all the recorded music I have in alphabetical order until I have a settled home. I don’t know how long I will be living here, (no one knows how long Lockdown 3 will even last), but I know that I can’t put up any shelves in this rented property. So, what I have is in plastic boxes.

Today I decided to empty them all out and re-box the collection into categories then note where each box is stashed. So, if I fancy listening to some Godspeed You Black Emperor, John Lennon, Bela Bartok, or The Fall I will now know where to start looking.

I discovered one CD I remembered little about, which turned out to be by Saul Williams the title Martyr Loser King. I think that I had bought it in Rough Trade East from the sale rack. The title must have appealed to me and is indicative of the cleverly constructed lyrics, which you can download as a pdf from the website. The artist’s projects include poetry and film. Worth investigating, if you have some spare Internet time.

I recognised another bargain basement CD I had acquired, but wasn’t sure if it was blues, or country-rock, or what, because I had not played it recently. It turned out to be an authentic country and western album with lyrics so mournful it made me laugh out loud. It cheered me up no end, thanks, Mr Leach.

If you want to track it down it is Tom Leach’s eponymous album, Tom Leach. He produced all 16 tracks on a friend’s 4 track recording machine at home. The tracks Yesterday’s News and Mr Hang Up The Phone are just two of the gems on this album. The absolute winner is Ice Below You. The chorus includes the line “You’ve got so much ice below you; I’m falling through.” is a winter winner; ideal for these times of bad weather, covid confinement and misery.

~

CLP 24/01/2021

On Trees

When this wind blows

Things sound different

After the leaves have dropped

To mosaic the floor.

~

This wind bends through the bared boughs

Divides to draughts between the trunks

Blows low notes from the wood

Makes this place an instrument

For mournful tunes

~

When we hear this hollow overture

Howling from beeches and birches

We can be certain winter approaches

~

CLP 27/10/2020