'You do it to yourself you do. And that's what really hurts.'
Earworms are one of life's most intriguing mysteries to me.How a riff or phrase or melody can attach itself with limpet like tenacity to the inside of your skull and play on a loop for days. For me it's been various songs from Radioheads remarkable The Bends record recently. Some set of songs. They're still proving incredibly durable. Songs of struggle. With mental insecurity. The ways of the world. Modern existence. Making your way forward in the face of a full fathom gale. It's almost thirty yeas old now. Everything has changed and nothing has. Life remains a struggle. That's what's so great about it,
When The Bends came out in 1995, I was in Warsaw, Poland. A bold and gritty and slightly frightening frontier city, working for a Business Language School as an EFL teacher. Embarking on a doomed but always interesting romance with one of my teaching colleagues. I bought a copy of The Bends on casette from a bootleg cassette from one of the stalls on Marszalkowska. I played the album ragged. Twelve songs of durable grit, defiance and backbone that have stood the test of time rather better than some of its Brit Pop contemporaries. These songs reinvent themselves with the passing times and still have plenty to say.
I'm setting off on a new chapter of working routine right now strangely. The final journey of a long and varied career as a teacher which is all I've done since I graduated in 1990. Now after fifteen years in a steady job which has paid off the best part of the mortgage on my flat in Newcastle, I'm ready for a new challenge and am going freelance.
Much of my teaching I'll do from now on will be from the comfort of my flat. Teaching online. Working initially strangely with the same organisation I worked with all those years ago in Poland. My first class with them is due on Monday morning. An online business class in Dussledorf. The wonders of modern science. I'm looking forward to it.
I wake and work on the blog. It's a major focus for me these days. Waking early every morning and working on four or five pieces on records I'm interested in. Then posting them at eight and going to the pool, or preparing an extended breakfast. Breakfast is the most important meal of my day these days.
The blog takes time and determination. People rarely respond to it but I enjoy the process and the reward is mostly in the records I discover or rediscover. I don't procrastinate. Write and post. Then try to come back and proofread later. It's a daily pursuit that I find quite pure. Some tend plant pots or put their energies into shopping and preparing meals. Watch football matches. Sink pints. This works for me.
I cook a proper fried breakfast listening to Mary Timony's fantastic Untame The Tiger which I'll post about tomorrow. Phone Dad and head to the pool at the Royal Station Hotel just by the station. More routine. I find I need and benefit from it. It's a brisk and bright day.
Outside The Centurion Bar at the front of the station a small Hen Do is gathering. The lead participant and subject I assume, a pretty blond girl with high heels, shorts and a Learner sign tagged on her back. One of them has a Sex Doll tucked under her arm. Rituals and our unform expressions of determined individuality in rigid uniformity. Human beings are a funny lot. I don't exclude myself.
In the sauna I meet and chat with a couple of young guys. I like it when I get a good conversation out of my hour long circuit. There's a white lad who's done a year at a secondary school as a PE teacher in Kuwait. This gets us talking about the Islamic World and the daily call to prayer, the reason I felt I could never live and work in that part of the world. Respect to others religious beliefs and all that. I found it rather overbearing.
A young black guy guy is there too who I've met before here. We get talking. His name is Mercy and he's a fascinating fellow. One of the most respectful and unfailingly polite young people I've ever met. He's British, Angolan, Portuguese and makes his living as a full time model. The money is good but he knows it won't last forever and is plotting the next stage. He wants to invest in a property portfolio if he can. Secure his future. The future's uncertain and he realises it. It's nice to meet him again.
I return home, call mum and then watch a film. Faye Dunaway, Warren Beatty, Bonnie & Clyde. A classic. I watch it every couple of years. A landmark in cinema in many ways. Still stunning use of colour. Brilliant leads. Epitomes of male and female beauty. Stunning screenplay and bloody set pieces. The French New Wave arriving in Hollywood to banish Old Hollywood and the studio system once and for all.
It's ticking on to six and the sun is setting. It's time to prepare for my evening's entertainment. I've got a ticket to see Nadine Shah, playing at Reflex Records which is a five minute walk from me. So I put on her latest Filthy Underneath to set an appropriate atmospheric tone.
It's appropriately dramatic. I love Nadine and have enjoyed all of her recent records, going back to 2017's Holiday Destination. I've expressed my appreciation of them on here. She's a force of nature. A strong and artistic local hero, she's from South Shields. Just up the road. A thirty minute metro ride. She has that steel and sass and strength which is so admirable in women up here. Which makes me glad to be here. The people are canny and no mistake,
Filthy Underneath is another fine album to notch under her belt. It's dark, but she's no stranger to darkness, She has no fear of it and generally chooses it as her subject matter. She engages with reality. Global Warfare. The Marketplace. Multiculturalism. Gender and Identity Politics. Sexuality. It's not exploitative. She's engaged. A fighter. An artist. I think she's great.
Time to go to the instore. I arrive early. Collect the album that's part of the 30 quid ticket price and decide to drop it back off home and then head back to the queue outside Reflex and watch the shenanigan's in Butler's across the road. I've never notced this bar before but it seems like a local with only one function. As a place for locals to get entirely mortal on a Saturday night and dance to trashy Pop Music played at unhealthy volume.It's diverting to watch for ten minutes until we're allowed in out of the drizzle.
Eventually we're let in. About 35 of us in all. Reflex have cleared the record racks and arranged a small stage area with monitors and wires. Another short wait. All of the five guys who work in the shop are here. Partly because they're all needed I imagine but also I suppose they'd want to be present. It's an event. Nadine has just finished her first set. We're ready for the second. She's announced and she's down the stairs and on. In the company of two of her band. No messing around. They kick into their opener.
She has some presence. It needs saying immediately. She's the kind of woman who would turn heads wherever she went. I'm sure you've seen a gorgeous, strong, determined woman before. She immediately reminds me of a large feline. A Puma or Black Panther. She's friendly and chatty and garrulous. But I wouldn't advise crossing her.
It's a strange experience the Instore Performance. We get about 30 minutes. All I assume from Filthy Underneath. She chats between songs. Encourages chat in return from the audience like a confident barmaid getting the banter going on a Saturday night. She talks about the instore experience. 'These are great! Does this look like a brothel? Have any of you been to a brothel.' Then gets derailed by a fascinating digression with a woman in the front row who had. In Belgium if all places.
I'm not sure what I think of the instore experience. I haven't been to that many. It's a taster essentially. To encourage you to come back, elsewhere and get the whole gig experience. The full band and sound and lights system. The drama and passion. We more than get her money's worth here though.
What I take away is how strong, impressive and admirable she is. She's been through a lot,( just read an interview), and she's quite happy to talk and write about it. Wears her heart on her sleeve and comes back for more. She has no fear.
Most of all she's got strong material and an incredibly, but incredibly strong voice. Her voice never wavers and she could more than hold her own in a classy Jazz venue with an entirely different set of material. She remains one to watch.
We're done anyhow. I'm off into the Newcastle night feeling I've been given more than my money's worth. Highly memorable.
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