Bit more upbeat this week? No. Theres not a great deal to be upbeat about, aside form we have our health, and we have a roof over our heads, but as the UK moves into lockdown and drops further down, unfortunately folk are finding life hard to earn a crust. So thanks to the hero Rochelle who surely will receive a commendation from the now, Count Of Clifton, for services to keeping folk on the straight and narrow. Well done you. And also a massive pat on the back to the enormously talented and entertaining Dale Rogerson for her slightly mournful picture this week. As soon as I saw it I knew what it had to be about … That’s the test. So without further ado;
On My Marks…
The Drums were in place, guitar tuned the night before, checked in the morning. The small string section had their place to the right, electronics and theremin took centre stage. Oddball Cliff Richard would have said, “We are Wired for Sound”
9 months later, the gear was in a pawn shop. Hoping to buy it back, but the temp jobs he’d taken barely paid the bills, not the retrieval of his old life.
Fingers all but rusted, his mind, mangled by stress and hunger, refused to create.
Only rhythm he heard now,
“Swish, Squeak, Swish, Squeak”, washing the windows.
A particularly moody piece on how the grassroots arts have been sidelined and seen as not terribly important to save during this pandemic. The government has constantly ignored the arts; the smaller local but incredibly important tribes, without smaller grassroots venues you don’t get the behemoths, but the money these small venues bring to the economy is huge. Many musicians have been forced to quit the BIZ and work somewhere else to pay the rent, many won’t come back. It’s 100 words, but there’s many more to be spoken.