One of the most 80s videos ever
Given
the apocalyptic turn of events this year has taken it seems apt that one of my
last moments before 2016's demise involved walking through the aisles of Morrisons Peckham
in a semi-sedated state, the supermarket PA system pumping out OMD’s ‘Enola Gay’. The
melancholy synth pop anthem was released at the start of the 80s and 2016 feels
pretty damn 80s to me: fascism, war, hard-line conservatism, austerity,
counterculture weeded out, yuppie gentrification stretching its tentacles
throughout the city. My music taste is clearly still stuck in the 80s as well.
All
the political horror has happened since the 80s of course, it just all feels worse this year.
Maybe we never noticed as much before because there wasn’t a mass cull of all the
good celebrities, hence reminding us of our own, and the planet's, numbered days. But with the horror of Trump and Brexit, it’s hard not to
contemplate these being end times.
The ‘Enola Gay’ of the title refers to
yet another apocolypse of the not-that-distant-past: the dropping of the world’s
first atomic bomb on Hiroshima by the US. This too feels apt, global tensions
being what they are. I don’t want to belittle what has gone on between now and
the 80s but perhaps it just seems like all that has gone before is heading
towards its bitter conclusion and you can sit on social media scrolling up and
down, watching everything burn.
***
More 80s music
Is
art gonna save us all? Probably not. Though I do believe in the transformative power of art to some degree. Amanda Palmer recently said that being an optimist she thought Donald Trump was going to make punk rock great again, a silver-lining to his horror. A naive, privileged thing to say at best, though I do feel vaguely sorry
for her, dreadful politics she may have on certain things, but unlike another of my musical heroes prone to saying dumb shit in interviews, Morrissey, I don't think her motivations are due to being an actual cunt and I'm not sure how much of one comment at a press conference to take to heart or why everyone cares so much about what she thinks and if I got that much shit on Twitter I would hide under my
bed crying FOREVER. That doesn’t make her statement any less
cringeworthy mind or less like the type of thing a 17 year old punk boy mansplaining politics
to impress a girl at a party would say. Another ridiculous thing about Palmer’s statement is the lack of recognition of the fact that musicians ALREADY have shit loads
to be angry about and even if Hilary had been elected she still would have continued
bombing the shit out of many a country containing brown people, deporting
‘illegal’ (poor/brown) immigrants, not pardoning Chelsea Manning, not closing Guantanamo
Bay, etcetera. That is why the Le Tigre pro-Hilary song was so utterly nauseating, though
I still love Kathleen Hanna and think she is inspirational on many other fronts.
***
Of
all the tragic celebrity deaths I am probably saddest about Carrie Fisher. I
did like Star Wars but what’s awesome about Carrie was the fact that she was one
of the few people in the media who really genuinely made me laugh with her
genius wit and unfiltered demeanour. Her openness about addiction and mental
illness was also so very important to me. I think my favourite Carrie Fisher
performance was actually in the 30 Rock episode, ‘Rosemary’s Baby’, in which
she plays a washed up, slightly crazy, once ‘cutting edge’ writer, Liz
Lemon’s comedy idol. She inspires Liz to quit her job so the two of them can
write subversive comedy together and stick it to The Man. It is later revealed
that Carrie’s character lives in a flat amongst rats and swigs from a thermos
of whiskey throughout the day, Liz soon comes crawling back to the land of high-grossing, banal
comedy conformity. Fisher’s performance is wonderful. I’ve been wanting to read
Carrie’s various memoirs and biographies for ages. I don’t really feel mentally
in a place to make new year’s resolutions at this time but if I do set one,
it’s going to be to read Carrie Fisher's entire literary back catalogue.
***
Other than revisiting articles and interviews by Carrie Fisher I read a couple of other really awesome things about mental health this year. One was
the graphic novel ‘Marbles: Mania, Depression, Michelangelo and Me’ by EllenForney which is about her experiences with bipolar disorder. It's poignant, funny, honest and hopeful. I recommend it to
everyone, but particularly if you struggle with mental illness. Also she's queer. This morning I
read this account of depression by Tim Lott in the Guardian which I missed back in April when it was first published. Whatever you think of Tim Lott in general, it really is worth reading. Very beautiful and absolutely spot on.
***
The
best book I read this year was ‘A Little Life’, if you enjoy having your heart
ripped out and you wanna read something horrific about the way past trauma is
always present as an adult then I would recommend it. I know that doesn’t sound very
appealing but books that move me like ‘A Little Life’ make me feel less alone
in the world. Though it didn’t actually come out in 2016.
The
book I am currently reading is ‘Swing Time’ by Zadie Smith, which did come out
this year and is awesome. I can’t give a conclusive report as I am only two
thirds of the way through. I love the sense of cool detachment that
comes through in the narrator's voice, even when recounting difficult things. I think this rings true of how a lot of people
relate to and recall their experiences. Corny as it sounds I think many people are driven to write
because they feel as though they’re on the outside looking in at life in some
way, they’ve had to compartmentalise themselves and detached observation is surely a way to stay sane at times. The
narrator of ‘Swing Time’ is a mixed race girl from a council estate; the book
is far from gratuitous, stereotyped poverty porn, but poverty and racism are
experiences of the narrator’s formative years, as well as difficult relationships with family. I have no idea whether a sense
of detachment drove Zadie Smith to become a writer herself but the cool tone of the narrative
certainly struck a chord with me and the story felt compelling and true. It
also illustrates wonderfully what happens when the celebrity ego collides with third world
charity drives and how white saviours generally do more harm than good. I love literature
that can express important ideas without being preachy. I also adore Zadie
Smith forever and ever. Hearing her present a show on 6 Music (sadly no longer on iplayer) earlier this year was my radio highlight.
***
My
favourite TV of 2016 was ‘Crazy Ex-Girlfriend’, ‘Planet Earth II’ and
‘Black Mirror’. ‘Black Mirror’ was smoulderingly dark genius as usual. I think
the most disturbing episode, ‘Shut Up and Dance’, was my favourite even though
I watched it before bed resulting in a sleepless night. I love TV that you need to discuss. ‘Planet Earth II’ was
largely wonderful although the occasional comedy music when an animal did
something that looked a bit silly, or referring to a male birds’ nest as a
‘bachelor pad’ got tiresome. I mean, come
the fuck on, I’m pretty sure
heteronormativity is a human construct.
‘Crazy
Ex Girlfriend’ I gather began before this year, but I didn’t know about it
until season 2 came out and everyone started going on about it, so I watched it
from the beginning. Season 1 is literally the best thing EVER. For the
uninitiated, Crazy Ex Girlfriend is a comedy co-written by and starring Rachel
Bloom, about a Jewish woman who is a top New York lawyer on the verge of a
nervous breakdown, who becomes obsessed with her ex ‘boyfriend’ (the guy she
dated at summer camp when she was 16 and then never saw again) after bumping
into him in New York. She then follows him back to his dead end home town of
West Covina, California, moving there herself, whilst all the time doggedly
insisting to both herself and others that he ‘just happens to be here’.
AND if that isn’t enough it’s a fecking
musical. WHAT IS NOT TO LOVE?
Unfortunately Season 2 is not as good as the first one but still pretty
watchable, and there are definitely some gems (such as the take-off of R
Kelly’s ‘Trapped in the Closet’). The show is centred around
a straight white woman and no one could say it has ground breaking race
politics but to it's credit it has more POC actors than most mainstream US
comedies and also features an inter-generational gay relationship which you don’t
really see very often on TV.
***
I
moved house twice this year. Once in March and once a couple of
days ago. The first time I moved to the most expensive place I’ve ever lived,
despite the fact it was a one-bedroom flat which my housemate and I turned into
a two bed by converting the living room, because London. It was a
disaster. I’m now lying amongst boxes which I probably won’t unpack for the
next three months.
I’m
cautiously hopeful for the new place (in London rentals, cautiously hopeful is the best you should ever be): I live right by Peckham Rye common and
the gloomy morning fog over the grass is spectacularly gothic. Also, there is
an actual TV and a fecking Christmas tree. I haven’t lived in a house with
either of these things for about eight years. I’m pretty excited about the TV,
even if it’s just a bigger screen upon which to watch the apocalypse.
***
I
started playing violin. Which is ridiculous - I look 12 but I am actually
33 years old and I can’t even play the instruments I’m supposed to know how to
play, no matter how much I practise. For those unfamiliar with trying to learn
violin, it’s one of the hardest things ever to play and doesn’t stop sounding
like a cat being strangled until you’ve played for 3 years or something (and
even then it probably won’t sound good)
which is why the only people who become professional violinists began playing
when they were two years old or something, but screw it, I FUCKING LOVE IT. I
don’t really care how it sounds at this stage, though I am concerned it may
alienate me from all my new housemates. I kind of wish I cared more for
classical music but it was more Owen Pallett and the Dirty Three and tracks
like PJ Harvey’s ‘Plants and Rags’ and Leonard Cohen’s (RIP) ‘The Guests’ that
made violin stand out for me.
I have watched this video 8 million times
I
started playing bass, trying to imitate Kim Deal, which I will never be able to
do but you’ve always got to aspire to something greater than yourself else you
might as well just top yourself. I began playing so the queer heavy metal band
I ‘sing’ in -Twinken Park- could also have a bass player.
I
joined a band called End Men the night before I played my first gig with them.
Then we had one other practice together, the line-up changing yet again, and we
played another gig, which seemed to go down very well. I thought it was a total
shambles and barely knew what was going on when I was onstage despite being
relatively sober, but maybe the shambles was what everyone liked. I loved the
spontaneity of End Men and also the fact that I could jump around shouting
un-obstructed by attempts to play an instrument. We had a song called ‘The Good
Men Project’ about guys who think they’re hella feminist because they don’t pay
for sex but actually probably should have to pay for all the sex they have cos
why the hell would anyone want to fuck them for free? The boyfriend of one of
my bandmates response to seeing a video of us playing was, ‘I could see you
were all playing the same song, just not at the same time’. We also covered
Geri Halliwell’s notorious song about white privilege, ‘Look At Me’, ‘Die
Young’ by Ke$ha and ‘I Want to Kiss You’ by The Spook School but we changed
‘kiss’ to ‘fist’ because the rest of the lyrics really do lend themselves to
fisting.
A song about fisting?
I
still love playing with my longest-running band Faggot though I wish we did it
more. We played Synthpunk fest at DIY Space for London which was a highlight of
the year for me.
Sometimes
anxiety, depression and despair can put a real damper on your creativity, but
at the same time these are the impulses which I convert into shouty synthpunk
songs and as someone who has a million problems expressing rage these are the
safety valves that keep me from imploding, or at least they help.
***
After making a fuck ton of big plans, I couldn't face going out tonight. The pressure to be happy and have a great time on NYE is
pretty horrible when you’re not feeling super upbeat. I’m staying in and
watching action films on the couch with my housemate. To make up for being so masc and un-depraved this evening -and as I began a post about 2016 with a song from 1980,- I leave you with one of my favourite videos
this year from gender-blurring, homo queer genius Mykki Blanco. New Year's love to all those whose existence is untranslatable.
