Saturday 30 June 2018

Album of the Month: BRUSHES WITH HAPPINESS by The Wave Pictures


It probably does mean something when a few recordings which were cut and subsequently abandoned in March 1963 sound like a breath of fresh air in June 2018. That's the case with John Coltrane's lost album Both Directions at Once, which was finally released yesterday. I have just listened to it for the first time, along some windy quayside that featured nobody else, and it sounded wonderful and so effortlessly cool that I had to put Kamasi Washington on hold. Indefinitely.

Having said that, Both Directions at Once is blissfully old-school and needs a little more time to properly sink in, and so my album of the past month is The Wave Pictures' Brushes With Happiness.    




The story of Brushes With Happiness, The Wave Picture's brilliant new LP (another one is on its way), is a dangerous one. It's a story that could easily overshadow the music and ruin the experience. The fact that it does not happen is a testimony to the Wave Pictures' great musicianship and the remarkable talents of David Tattersall. The story goes like this: David came into the studio with hand-written lyrics (or else I just want them to be hand-written) and the band improvised and built music around them. All was done in one take.

A wonderful story, no doubt, one that would not be worth anything if the result was a bunch of slovenly, slapdash tunes you would never wish to hear again.

No, not even close. The nine songs recorded during that session are music in its purest form. Quite literally, each piece grows, meanders, and takes its shape, while you are listening to it. Now truly that is a rare treat, and the beauty is that these long-winded, bluesy melodies end up sounding no less convincing than what made A Season In Hull one of the greatest albums in recent memory. 

Everything is intact: the lyrical wit (the recurring sunflower motif, the Mystery Train reference, the imagery of "Laces", "The Little Window" in its entirety); the part-mournful, part-euphoric vocals of David Tattersall; the beautiful, slow-burning tunes that don't rush to put their claws into your brain. Instrumentally, too, the band straddles the fine line between tight and loose, and I could probably make a case that the guitar hook in "The Red Suitcase" is what makes that song so good in the first place. Also, while the title song is melodically rather weedy, I just can't fault the guitar work.  

These days, adventures equal over-the-top. Not here. Brushes With Happiness is a nicely balanced and beautifully restrained adventure that sometimes eagerly and sometimes reluctantly oozes charm as it goes along. Something that could confuse people who first heard the immediate delights of "Jim" and "The Burnt Match". Something they would later cherish, and find rewarding, and get lost in. 


Wednesday 20 June 2018

My Favourite Men


My favourite men are those who in this time of crisis (football) are not staying at home watching sports but those who are sitting in bars where TV sets show ancient movies about American gangsters. These men are alone, drinking Laphroaig and smoking expensive cigarettes and their tilted backs keep oozing stories if you are willing to look at them. 

Look, not even listen; there is nothing more poisonous than to listen to a man who chose to spend the night on his own. He will never attempt a conversation, because whatever has happened to you - it has happened to him a million times over.

My favourite men are very much like my favourite buildings. They are few and far between. Sometimes it may seem that they are about to crumble under pressure - but they don't. And at some point around midnight, they will get to their taxis just fine. I have seen this time and time again: my favourite men never fall. 


Sunday 17 June 2018

travelling notes (lviii)


Inside ancient cathedrals, I am often mesmerised by confessionals. Those beautiful, half-abandoned brown boxes trampled down by a million sinful knees. I am moved. Moved to the point where I want to confess all my sins, past, present and even future, but inside ancient cathedrals - you do not stand a chance: the priest is nowhere to be seen.


Tuesday 12 June 2018

Malvasia del Salento


There is no such thing as 'comfort wine', nor should be. Having said that, I have always liked the idea of coming into a wine store, seeing a familiar bottle of white and thinking to myself - oh well, this is my wine and why would I be looking elsewhere?.. 

Your wine is, of course, something you should work on. It comes after countless exhausting rehearsals and mind-crushing experiments, but then suddenly it will hit the one spot in your mouth which has been crying for it for years. A million girls can tell you a million beautiful things, but there is one girl who will do more by just hitting the one spot that matters. Accidentally. Or so it would seem.




This wine arrived more than a year ago now, in the form of Italian Varvaglione Malvasia 12 e Mezzo. The winery is located in Salento, the 'heel' part of Italy that sports such underrated beauties as Bari and Lecce. 12 e Mezzo is intriguingly inexpensive, though you would not be able to tell it from the slightly acidic petals of roses, to say nothing of some exotic pineapple gone beautifully off.

They could of course be telling you this wine is perfect for summer, and while I would not argue with that, I have not yet encountered a season where this wine would not raise a smile on my face and not make me think - oh well, to hell with experiments, this is my wine and I am not going home with anything else. 


Thursday 7 June 2018

travelling notes (lvii)


There isn't a sight more uncomfortable than the sight of Parisian beggars. God knows, you want nothing else but to dress them in the world's most elegant suits and let them dine in the best restaurants of the city. That's what they always did - or else, that's what they were made for.