MixTape 41 - Last Winter - 2021/2022

Winter Solstice swallowed us in it's all reaching circle, arms held wide, it felt so easy. Does it matter, should it matter how we were in love, spinning under the October sky.. x

Held in winter’s expectant grasp, she led

her quiet dance across snow fields, cold

Winter Solstice swallowed in whole flame

wild fire like a circle, arms held wide, easy

Does it matter, should it matter, how we were

in love, spinning under an October sky

 

Coupled like lambs at Newgrange we leaped

through mirrored frames following sun rays

right down the line toward a blind horizon

beyond any barrier they tried to hold us in

we remained oblivious to their foolish lies

though someone else might realise it wasn't time

 

Head bent close, breath held tight, you said

I wish you peace in your heart and that was all

I needed to feel at home in the corner of my sky

Where thoughts reside in simultaneous parallel

and all seasons bloom together as one great turn

Oak and Ash holding together one year into another

2021 left us before 2022 had begun its own song

The ship song it was they sang as we waved

a fond farewell to all that had come before, bricks

and mortar holding together fast as atom two

clutches atom three and one in its tender embrace

and they sang Hari Ram over and over which

 

made you frown but it don’t bother me, I fell

into ocean view and lost myself. Is it just me

running on this Night train at Sundown waiting

for Sunset to wrap me in her arms until I can

dance with somebody other than Charlie and

his soft dinosaur - most treasured telepath and seer

Mix-Tape 40 - I Knew You

It's been almost 4 years since I first started dabbling in the art of playlisting on Spotify. Inspired by the beautiful, quirky and random mixtapes folk around my age used to make when we were kids and young adults. At first we created them to record songs we liked off the radio and not have to rely on radio DJs or our own meagre record and tape collections to listen to our favourite tracks. 

Later, as we became more practised and relatively affluent, our mixtape skills focused on compiling songs that worked well together and then sharing our mixes with friends. To make a mixtape for someone was one of the most romantic or caring gestures we could make. That hand-sized plastic package of carefully chosen music with a handwritten track list and sometimes a handmade insert or cover crafted from magazine cut out collage, could seal new friendships, heal broken ones and keep us company through the many tough times of adolescence and early adulthood. 

The idea of being able to stream and buy digital copies of our favourite songs and tracks was something we could not even dream of yet. To have such a vast quantity of music available 24/7 would have been unbelievable to our younger selves. Yet here we are - unlimited streaming, vast catalogues and endless playback. 

Playlisting itself has developed into an art form of its own and despite lacking the tactility, smell or physical presence of analogue cassette tapes, digital playlists can carry a similar potency. The initial magic ingredients of taking time and thought to carefully curate a list, perfect for a certain time, a certain moment, a certain someone, remains. 

My first attempt was a little roughshod mix for a friend going through some momentous life changes. It runs over 5 hours long and includes such disparities as Pete Tong, Robert Plant, Alex The Astronaut, Billie Holiday, St. Vincent, Fleetwood Mac, Geri Halliwell, Elbow and many many more but each track is carefully selected and ordered (although back then, I naively imagined that the ultimate track order would be whatever I chose by clicking on ‘date added’, ‘album’ or ‘song title’ (ascending or descending) rather than the original order of tracks as they were added) to give an overall effect of playful curiosity and burgeoning confidence wrapped up in a soothing hug. I hope that comes across!! 

As you can see by the notes I added to the playlist description (or imaginary cassette insert if you like) there is magic in the giving of as well as the reception of a well thought out mixtape: 

This ‘mix-tape’ was put together as a musical hug for a friend. I've listened to it almost daily these past few months which have been a super challenging time for me. It has been a life buoy, comfort blanket, spirit lifter, solace, distraction + inspiration. I hope you feel moved by the music too x 

My first Spotify Mix-Tapes were considerably longer than they are now, reflecting my excitement at the seemingly endless possibilities of curating a soundtrack gift to share. They contained anywhere between 37 and 78 tracks - up to 5 ½ hours of play! Now they are limited to 27 items but are still derived from an addiction to the curating of music to share. 

In the beginning stages of writing practice back then, it seemed natural to bring that craft to the playlist too. Feeling the need for a challenge to shake up my early writing style, I gave myself the challenge of writing a piece of poetry or prose using all the track titles listed to construct a conversation, a letter, memory fragments or some other form of communication - a message in a bottle if you like. Thus the Mix-Tape Poems were born. 

Mix-Tape 1 - I Believe In Music - Jun2018 

November 2021 I began creating my fortieth Mix-Tape called I Knew You, titled after the first soul baring track by Future Islands. I'm not sure why this mix needed a full hibernation period before sprouting its wings out into the world, but this slowly emerging spring feels like the right time to unearth its gems and let it grow. Personally, I am falling in love with it, and the magic of the mixtape process, all over again. I hope you do too.. x

Mix-Tape 40 - I Knew You - Winter2021/22

Description Poem:

Always running down / this dead end street is hard / There's music in the darkness / grooves pounded into heart / sways with our emotions / Hush. Yonder door is open / bright lights beam our way / disco balls glitter, say / we've arrived.. x

Fragments:

Our last sundown fell aeons ago, way beyond our horizons yet

Was it so long-ago that you knew me babe and I knew you?

 

We were love’s refuges rolling a dark train of disappointment

Pushed underground through a tunnel snaking dark and long

 

Myriad memories meander over this aging mindscape-

That last year as surprising as the seasons confused

 

Like time runaway we were far from our true selves..

Unnaturally warm spring and it was cold in summer

 

A lonely girl in the rain and my love, I kissed someone (it wasn’t you)

Though I was thinking of you I swear, your face was all I saw..

 

They say, you’re on your way and I wonder after all this time

Will you remember me? Will you recognise these darkened eyes..

 

You came back then and I can’t believe we had another chance

Yet there on Redondo beach we claimed our own secret Paradise

 

The clouds lifted and we danced, you in your faded blue jeans

My white dress torn like my heart, a tattered shell, unshored

 

But you held my hand, said ‘I know places’ and you know how it is

When you love too much, I swear my heart was a firework - constant

 

Explosions - all senses flowing like a river to the open sea

We were in heaven, and I swear, it was just like old times..

 

At Groovata the sun swelled over the midnight ocean

In your arms I felt serene, full of grace by your side

 

I only feel cool when I’m with you and something wonderful-

Something unparalleled fell into our laps, babe, magic, I swear.

 

Our eyes fixed, you breathed ‘My Millennium Angel’, and I belonged

From that moment on, I swear I was yours. Even now, all it takes-

 

A touch of southern breeze can bring me back to you, those nights..

You remember how the edges bled and we lived in soft filter babe

 

Polaroid kisses, even the whale song called out to our wildness

The sound fills me with heartbreak now, time and time again

 

Sunset’s arms still stretch wide though there’s only me now

But you’re coming back, and I swear babe, if this ain’t love

 

I don’t know what is. This summer will be my last here so

Whatever the weather, find me babe, come give me love.. xx

And To Make An End...

...For last year's words belong to last year's language
And next year's words await another voice.
And to make an end is to make a beginning...
T.S. Eliot

For those of us who tend to over-think almost everything, have an inbuilt obsession with attaining an unattainable perfection, and seem hell-bent on criticising every aspect of our tortured selves on a regular basis, the end of a year can feel like an impossibly difficult time. 

The expectation that everything will and should change for the better, is difficult to avoid. The predilection for ruminating on the past year's 'failures' and less than successful projects and relationships is rife and often overwhelming. As Charlotte Carpenter so succinctly puts it in her beautiful song Another Year - "...this trip around the sun, it ain't easy..."



I watch myself going through all these fears, disappointments and anxieties year after year and only seem to add to the chaotic mix of chemical imbalances by attempting to stop feeling the feelings that cause such pain but ultimately cannot be undone by undoing.

Having, by no small miracle, begun to put into practice the probably life-long lesson of allowing feelings - whether they feel helpful or less so - to flow through unhindered throughout this past year, I imagined that this year end would be less painful than the previous. Yet despite putting mental, emotional and situational safety barriers in place, I've found the crossover from 2019 to 2020 just as exhausting and full of disappointment with myself, one or two unfortunate others and with life itself.

Putting the past behind us as Eliot suggests in the wonderful quote above (and elsewhere in his Four Quartets piece), is no easy task and takes huge amounts of courage and trust in the eternal process of change. 

The idea of calling an end to one way of being and thereby allowing a new way to come forth, however, is very appealing and resonates loudly in my soul. Thus, I have allowed myself the miserable luxury of spending the day (and much of the previous night) immersed in all the sadness that came skulking out of the new year woodwork, ruminating over unhelpful thoughts and disappointments whilst simultaneously attempting to employ the art of observing feelings without too much judgement. 

It's been a long day but I feel ready to make an end and let the beginning roll in. I hope you do too.. x


P.S. The following extract from Burnt Norton, Part 1 of Eliot's Four Quartets (perhaps not intentionally) sums up the feelings of fear and anxiety that, perhaps necessarily, hang over this time of year poignantly. I also like how it (definitely unintentionally) evokes the Twittersphere quite beautifully.

...Here is a place of disaffection
Time before and time after
In a dim light: neither daylight
Investing form with lucid stillness
Turning shadow into transient beauty
With slow rotation suggesting permanence
Nor darkness to purify the soul
Emptying the sensual with deprivation
Cleansing affection from the temporal.
Neither plenitude nor vacancy. Only a flicker
Over the strained time-ridden faces
Distracted from distraction by distraction
Filled with fancies and empty of meaning
Tumid apathy with no concentration
Men and bits of paper, whirled by the cold wind
That blows before and after time,
Wind in and out of unwholesome lungs
Time before and time after.
Eructation of unhealthy souls
Into the faded air, the torpid
Driven on the wind that sweeps the gloomy hills of London,
Hampstead and Clerkenwell, Campden and Putney,
Highgate, Primrose and Ludgate. Not here
Not here the darkness, in this twittering world...

The Radio Edit

In the radio edit
we’ll make sure to leave a gap,
a poignant edge-of-the-moment
full-of-potential stop-go trap
between the chorus and the bridge,
the knowing and the liminal.
We’ll harmonise speculatively
on the incoming vertical
and wait
just enough
for one
breath.. taking.. gasp
to take us to the climax
hit us like a sudden gust
sweep us up over the waters
to the blue sky we can trust.


In the radio edit
we’ll repeat the chorus here
‘til it chimes with all our heartbeats,
becomes one with collective ear
and just when they’re feeling comfortable
singing along to the melody
we’ll cut the vocal, play just the tune
bear the weight of expectancy
as the audience falters unsure,
words slipping off their tongues
through the open lips of surprise -
will they stay or will they run?
Do you sing the words regardless
drawn towards the spot of light,
make your own mark on the record
stand tall, prepared to fight?
Or do you stop there on the spot
afraid to sing alone
the only voice resounding
mantra under desert sun?

Too late! The strings are soaring
drums beat loud, vocals return,
accustomed order is resumed -
our song will now play on.


In the radio edit
we’ll focus on the expected frame
of chorus following verse and chorus
following verse and same again
all the way up to the bridge
where keys change unsubtly,
usher them into a room beyond
ever so gently.
‘Take the step, it’s just one note’
Noting the rise in splendour,
letting them know ‘oh yes, it was good,
but now it’s even better.
Come up, up, up where the air is clear,
sweeter, breathe deep, let it in,
raise your hands if you want to go faster -
here comes the chorus again!’


In the radio edit
we’ll keep it short and sweet,
focus on the melody
highlight the lyrical beat.
We’ll give them what they expect to hear
with a little extra flourish,
a flouncing twist of pleasure -
you’ve been here before, you know this -
and they’ll return time after time
to listen to our song
but this cropped and censored version
can’t hold you for too long.


There will be no lengthy intro -
a gradual build of sounds
layering cozily over each other
in which the listener will lounge,
deep piles of sirens singing
harmonies we can’t deny;
there will be no vocal mosaic,
divided, reapportioned, reapplied.
Brightly coloured tiles
bearing glorious luscious notes,
expanding and contracting
in a universal flow.
There will be no vast extensions –
a stretching out of time,
basking in melodic rays,
float on a sea divine.
No waves to lift our heart and mind
into glorious ecstasy
where music is the food of love -
each note a chance to breathe.


The radio edit will be a joy
but it will never feel this free.
This original extended version
plays just for you and me.

Entanglement Theory

Long, long, long ago,
Beyond the scope of time,
Your shiny, spinning rock star
Collided into mine.
Left a meteoric scar
Across my cosmic heart –
A crater lying aeons deep
A lifetime’s width apart.

Far, far, far away.
Bonds that can’t be severed,
Bound my lonely heart to yours
Our orbits changed forever.
In a cold, dark, empty space
Our bodies out of time,
Knew we’d be together, love
Further down the line.

If the numbers all add up
And the cosmic maths is right,
The physics that is drawing us
Won’t give up the fight.
A million miles of galaxy
Can’t keep us apart –
We bleed the same blue star dust;
Same plasma in our hearts.

A promise made so long ago
Sends us spinning through the skies
In opposite directions –
You turn left and I spin right.
Yet we are still together,
Connections running deep -
The stories and the songs we share
Will bring you back to me.

Nothing can tear our hearts apart
Without forcing a hole
In the holy matter of time and space,
In the fabric of our souls.
And so our planets circle
Around the same bright star
In spirals of galactic love
That keep us near and far.

Interstellar longing,
A message from above:
Find your inner compass -
A universal Love.