Friday was the first time I played guitar on stage in more than four years. I’d forgotten that guitar was my first love, until we kicked into the first riff of Let it Out and I remembered everything.
I’ve recorded guitar, and I’ve played keyboard on stage, but it’s not the same. With keyboards, or a piano. You move around the instrument, and any physicality in the way you play is all about pouring yourself into the thing. But it’s fixed, it doesn’t play you back.
Guitar is different. It moves with you. You dance with a guitar, and I’m a terrible dancer. Joan Jett said “My guitar is not a thing. It is an extension of mysel...
I’m a sucker for anything melancholy but uplifting, miserable but inspiring, nostalgic but optimistic. It’s why I love disco. Take a listen to the lyrics of Young Hearts Run Free and tell me that’s not a depressing message hidden behind a dance masterpiece.
Anyway. This weekend, a few things made me feel that odd combination.
Saturday - A Woman’s Place is in the Resistance
If you weren’t distracted by Berlin Fashion Week or the Australian Open, you may have heard about the inauguration of a new president this week.
Yes, that’s right!
Gambia has a new president!
Oh right. The other one. The more dangerous one. The one...
We’re meeting at an odd moment, at the start of what will be a very interesting year, so you’ll have to excuse me for being a little more abstract than normal. These blogs will mostly consist of me gushing about films, or stories that starting with “today, I was on the tube…”
This one is a little different. I’ll assume you’re more than twelve days old. So, like me, you probably know that 2016 was pretty terrible. I won’t go on about it. You could say that this year is going to be just as bad, and you’d have a pretty strong argument.
One of the big things that hung over last year was the relentless celeb...