diary

Chart / February

Classic February doing its Irish goodbye and prompting me to frantically write a roundup six hours before the month is over.

Here’s what I want to talk about: I travelled outside Europe for the first time in more than four years, which necessitated my flying on a long-haul aircraft. Now, quite aside from the indirect environmental damage I’ve wrought on our wonderful planet (another topic for another day), I’m concerned by the fact that the entertainment rigs on these planes now only seem to show Netflix-friendly movies from the past four or five years. If you’re into superhero movies, Dwayne Johnson, Ryan Reynolds or the Fast & Furious franchise, then you’re all set. But dear Christ, when is this dumbing down of mainstream art going to stop for the rest of Western society? I’m beginning to think there’s an insidious plot afoot to delete all movies prior to the year 2000 from our collective memories - perhaps so they can be remade without incurring the inevitable backlash. I remember (oh good, I’m that guy) sitting on a plane to Australia a decade ago and being pleasantly surprised that I could watch stuff like Double Indemnity, The Wild Bunch, The Poseidon Adventure and Full Metal Jacket. Now your choices are Black Adam, Jurassic World: Dominion and Bullet Train. I know that in the grand scheme of things, this gripe may come across as entitled (oh no, you could kill time watching big budget movies while jetting off on holiday, the humanity), but I mean only to point out that this diet of empty-calorie cinema seems like one of those steps en route to us becoming the mindless blob people from Wall-E.

In related news: Old man yells at cloud.

Book of the month: Berlin Game by Len Deighton. A spy novel that is sexist, old-fashioned, glacially paced and obsessed with quotidian details like picking kids up from school after work….and I loved it. This is a book that would never be published if it was written today, and that makes it all the easier to enjoy. Of course, it isn’t without its highlights: Deighton’s encyclopaedic knowledge of 1980s Berlin is guaranteed to excite a long-term fawning resident of the city such as myself, while his prose is unvarnished without being workmanlike. Metal fact: Deighton also wrote the novel that served as the inspiration for Mötörhead’s Bomber. Awesome.

Album of the month: Heavy Heavy by Young Fathers. Those three chaps definitely know what they’re doing when it comes to single-handedly evolving abstract hip hop. They’re the Massive Attack of their day.

Movie of the month: Steven Soderbergh’s Kimi, almost exclusively because it stars Zoe Kravitz, who has the magical power of being able to turn a lame script and soporific direction into a watchable thriller. Seriously, if she wasn’t in it, Kimi would be nothing more than a bad, too-long episode of Black Mirror. But no one can repel charisma of that magnitude. You know who else had that power? Mickey Rourke in the 1980s (with the exception of Year of the Dragon - even he couldn’t save that piece of trash).

Feel-good February:

1 Betty Davis - Muskwarp Mountain

2 Kedr Livanskiy - Night

3 yunè pinku - DC Rot

4 Logic1000 - What You Like

5 Elkka - Music To Heal To

6 Pretty Girl - Arc

7 Bonobo - Heartbreak (Kerry Chandler Mix)

Chart / January

A new year! A new year with new cheer!

Except there’s nothing new about it, really, is there? Check out the media: Non-white people being murdered in their vehicles and on the streets, mass shootings, recession rumblings, a devastating ongoing war, an unavoidable 1.5-degree temperature rise, and a cultural landscape that’s falling apart at the seams. We learn nothing and we change nothing and yet we expect things to become better when a number increases by one. We’re so…enervating.

But let’s be more Hans Rösling about things. It ain’t all bad. For example: there’s a formation on Mars that looks like a grizzly bear. What more do you want? He’s our new god now. We shall all pray to Ursus arctos horribilis, or, as I like to call him, Bearyl Streep. I trust he will be a merciful bear god.

I haven’t written a new chart post since November, which is primarily because I was busy delivering the sequel to Reality Testing to my publisher. “That’s done and dusted,” he screamed, clapping his hands together to rid them of imaginary grit. Kind of backed myself into a hole with this series though, haven’t I? On the one hand, it’s all set in the #Sundownuniverse. Nice and neat, just as I like it. On the other hand, each book is a standalone story. Try making the average Amazon user realise this in the augenblick they give your title while browsing the science fiction Library of Alexandria. Just try it.

Other news: Yesterday I started writing a new novel. As daunting as ever, but 1,000 words is better than zero, I suppose. Let’s see what happens with it.

Album of the month: Surprise releases from bands who haven’t recorded anything for 15 years aside, January is always something of a void when it comes to fresh music. Either that or we’re too busy scouring the karaoke and ABBA residue from our minds to properly engage with the latest red-hot microtonal classical drone EP. Speaking of legends dropping new albums from nowhere, this month is all about 12 by Ryuichi Sakamoto. The composer was diagnosed with cancer for the second time in 2021 - this time stage four - and by all Internet accounts he’s pretty fragile. If this is to be his last release, it’s a desperately sad one. Whispered piano, sparse phrases, cold winter landscapes. It’s like he has already seen across to the other side and is showing us what awaits. It’s the transition stage from life to death and the terrifying realisation that - as prolific and creative and clean-eating and hardworking as you have endeavoured to be all your life - your time is now over, and all you can do is take a bow and fade out.

Book of the month: As I’ve only read one full book in January, this honour goes to I Am Legend by Richard Matheson, which I didn’t really enjoy because there’s only so much I can take of a man angrily drinking glasses of whiskey while pushing over vampires. If we’re including books that have taken me months to read, then Understanding a Photograph by John Berger wears the crown. Crackerjack, it was, even the self-indulgent parts where he just reproduces letter exchanges with his mates about how happiness is a series of moments surrounded - and called into creation - by a perpetual state of unhappiness. Full of quotes to put as the epigraph of an overreaching novel.

Movie of the month: Intimidation from 1960, directed by Koreyoshi Kurahara. Criterion sums it up neatly by calling it a “pocket-size noir”. It manages to do a lot in its 65-minute runtime, not least make me sympathise a little with a sweating bank manager who has to rob his own institution to pay off a comically inept blackmailer. It’s not ground-breaking, but there are several beautiful shots in it - as well as a stunning desk clock that I’ve so far failed to find online.

Last: RIP Tom Verlaine and Jeff Beck. Two unique players in the same month. C’est très triste.

Jolly sing-a-long songs:

1 Death and Vanilla - Nothing is Real

2 Bicep, Clara La San - Water

3 Nia Archives - Baianá

4 Floating Points - Problems

5 Tommy Genesis, Charlie XCX - 100 Bad

6 Damu the Fudgemunk - Blizzard

7 Forss - In Paradisum

Chart / November

November. Time to take stock of things. Sequel to Reality Testing aiming to be delivered to the publisher in February. Movie about a giant robot potentially in the works. TV series doing my head in…pitch meeting next week.

Yes, yes, I’m exhausted.

But there’s another cool development: My publisher, Black Rose, is getting in on the Kindle Vella action. Kindle Vella, for those not in the know, is:

“a platform that authors can use to share their stories with readers in an episodic style. The big feature of Kindle Vella is its serialized format—authors publish content in 'episodes,' and readers consume that content one episode at a time”

I am absolutely on board with this. Finally, someone has found a way to make books combat-ready for the Inattentive Age. All they had to do was go back to the 1830s for the idea. Thanks, man who originally decided to serialise The Pickwick Papers. Anyway, what it means is that I now finally have a place for my wild tales set in the Sundown universe. No longer will I have to trawl Submittable looking for any calls for submissions even remotely resembling sci fi. Instead, I can compete against titles such as The Elven Lord’s Concubine, Shadowglen: Witches & Wolves, Filthy Rich Vampires and - perhaps my favourite - Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder.

Movie of the month: I think it has to be the smouldering 1963 dudefest Hud, which has some of the greatest dialogue I’ve ever heard. A smattering:

“You don't look out for yourself, the only helping hand you'll ever get is when they lower the box.”

“Get all the good you can out of seventeen 'cause it sure wears out in one hell of a hurry.”

“Happens to everybody. Horses, dogs, men. Nobody gets out of life alive.”

That last one is just so butch and ridiculous and awesome.

A note on Paul Newman’s portrayal of Hud: He could absolutely be one of the biggest dickheads put to celluloid. There are antiheroes and then there’s whatever Newman is doing here, and it’s both amazing and infuriating at the same time.

Album of the month: I’m just going to go ahead and list the upcoming Metallica album here, every month, until it comes out in April. Because it’s gonna be the album of the damn century. Hear this? Hear that sub-Motorhead, single-riff, chuggy bollocks genius? How about that solo that sounds like someone had their hands chopped off and did their best to play with the stumps? HOW ABOUT THEM LYRICS? Full speed or nuthin’, baby. Hopefully in the next track they’ll reference Ronnie.

(Note: The actual album of the month is a three-way tie between Ultra Truth by Daniel Avery, Changes by KGLW, and Almanac Behind by Daniel Bachman).

Book of the month: I’m already tearing up as I write The Outsiders by S. E. Hinton. Why didn’t we read this in school? If I’d been handed this at the right time instead of 20 years too late, it would have been seismic for me. As it is, I can safely say it is much, much better than the film, which I watched many years ago and is the reason I never got around to reading the novel. Wonderful.

November sunset:

1. Kedr Livanskiy - Ivan Kupala

2. SAULT - Don’t Waste My Time

3. Daniel Avery - Ultra Truth

4. Hagop Tchaparian - Right to Riot

5. 808 State, Björk - Ooops

6. Rival Consoles - Running

7. Mount Kimbie, Kai Campos - Zone 1 (24 Hours)

semaphore.

Pandemic Diary (part II)

It is SO difficult to scratch out even 1,000 words a day. Thus: PANDIARY.

20 Mar

My bald mate brought his Xbox over to me today on a mercy mission. I pretended I was a secret agent in Cold War Berlin as he screeched into the street and jumped out of the car with a mask on. The fantasy lasted until he handed me a big blue IKEA bag. Bonus: Found out I suck at computer games now. Actually said the words “it’s just too fast” while shaking my head. Well done, Granddad.

21 Mar

Amazing how phone calls – the 21st century equivalent of getting a telegram – are a thing again. I didn’t even know what my ringtone sounded like until this started. My oldest friend video-called me for the first time since 2005, and he talked about his biggest fear in all of this: that the Premier League season might still get finished later this year. He’s a Spurs fan, so that’s understandable. “We were in a flat spin before fucking corona saved us” were his exact words.

22 Mar

The lockdown starts at midnight. With that weirdly normal threat in mind, I left the house with my camera and took some photos. Saw two women sitting by the kerb four metres apart with a bottle of prosecco between them. Reminded me of that film where two soldiers parachute into a minefield and can’t move so they shout at each other instead. One species that has done alright from all this is the cyclists. They were loving it, bombing down the middle of the road with no fear of a Karen in an SUV casually killing them as she turns without looking. We’re living in the age of Sick Wheelie, Bro.

23 Mar

Whoever invented the burpee was a sadistic bastard. In a hundred years’ time – if human beings are still around and we’ve managed to sidestep the whole death-by-climate thing – people will visit the Museum of Fitness and see a lifelike hologram doing a burpee and they’ll go, “wow, they really hated themselves back then.” And the hologram will look at them coldly and say, “Summer bodies are made in the winter”, and then do some more burpees while holo-muttering motivational phrases to itself.

24 Mar

This is mos def the longest I’ve gone without touching another human being. All I need now is a Nirvana hoodie, skin like the underside of a Ryvita and a shit haircut and I could be 16 again. I’m working on the latter: I chopped a lot of my fringe off with a pair of scissors. Then I had a go at the sides. Kind of look like a Benedictine monk now. Maybe I should start praying. Or making beer. I’m a little worried about the guy across the road from me. He’s moved into his living room and has been lying on his couch in a sleeping bag since Friday. Maybe he’s trying really hard to turn into a butterfly.

the bikes shall inherit the earth

the bikes shall inherit the earth