news – BLANK CANVAS

The Futility of Sport

Football, football, football. You watch your team through thick and thin. Weekend after weekend, peering for your results. All to end up without a trophy, maybe promotion, relegation. Supporting a middling Midlands team, some wins, some loses, some good performances, some bad. It’s about the individual moments. You are never going to have much success, just waiting for those few elements of excitement, happiness, warmth. Another season to look forward to. New players, new look. Hope is the hardest thing. But also, the most exciting. Pre-season. Then it’s more football, football, football. Week in week out, through thick and thin. Home and away. Same old teams to play. Football is very technical nowadays. No fouling, no real tackling. Little nudges, on the edge of fouls, moving bodies into certain spaces, gaining balance and space advantage over competitors. Subtle ways of keeping control of the ball. The fans getting excited, looking forward. Most teams don’t really win. They might win the individual battles, games, but not the big cups, awards. It’s about the communal family being happy. A new year. Hope eternal. New kit. New players. New coach. Same old same old. But there are moments, a point in time where everyone and everything comes together, that last minute goal where shouts of joy and relief splatter your locale, occurring at slightly different moments due to the lag in TV feeds. Arriving home, gently rolling into the driveway just as England superstar Jude Bellingham brilliantly places an overhead kick into the bottom right-hand corner. From despair to joy, emotions raging through. It is the moments that count rather than some beautiful game, the movement of the ball matching heartbeats. Watching your own team is like a completely different sport, every pass, tackle, cross, save coming deep from within rather than distance. Collectively kicking every ball. Hope. As humans that is all we need, the possibility of the future being something better than what is now. Preseason pre-reality.

So, the Olympics provide an opportunity to show the non-futility of sport. Nations coming together across the globe every four years. There is enough distance and distinction between events to create innovative original games, emerging at certain points in history that create a certain resonance. From the first person to run to Ancient Greece. I remember the Moscow games of 1980 where the USA boycott provided opportunities for others on the track and field. Alan Wells. Superstar. 1984, George Orwell appeared in the dystopian city of angels, huge coliseums and Carl Lewis. Korea, Spain, Australia, America again, China and then London, our own games. No better than any of the others. Rebuilding disused parts of the city. Bringing the country together in great hope. People seemed connected towards a common goal. The fighting could stop. But then Brexit. Great wounds blasted open, a country in disarray, shooting itself in the foot instead of hitting a target or clay disc. Such experts in ancient sports. The modern pentathlon. There is such jingoism about our games. Surely they were the best ever. Iconic. But then the world moved onto Brazil, equally as amazing gathering of athletes. Poor Japan had the covid Olympics. Masks, no crowds, deathly silence echoing through vast stadiums. Surely Tokyo should be given another opportunity, the chance to hold them with people present. All that infrastructure, money spent building should go towards something positive. It would clear the world of those isolated memories. The Paris 2024 Olympics concluded, recognised by many already as one of the best ever. Whisper it, even greater than London. Taking the sports to the central part of the city, using its stunning architecture. Having fun. Being totally French. There was such great warmth, emotion, love and enjoyments, people who don’t normally enjoy sport getting hooked into the skateboarding, Australian breakdancing, synchronised diving, speed climbing, BMX. The outlying sports provided with as much focus as any other. A completely non-hierarchical experience. And it has a finite length. Sadness creeps over me as the closing ceremony hands over the baton to LA (again). Surely somewhere else would be appropriate, away from the land of Donald, but at least they have the infrastructure already there. Is Africa generally too hot and poor to be given the opportunity. I mean, football came to Kuwait. A slight regret sweeps over me that I didn’t try to go and be part of the Parisian event, living so close, having lived a little life in France. That was bad planning as the games won’t be coming so near for quite a while. I feel sad that LA wont be the same. Too brash and knowing. The French have a naivety that is instantly charming. Puffing on a Gitanes whiles absent mindedly tossing silver balls into a pit of sand. Who really wants a Hollywood blockbuster. So time for a rest from sport, or let the new football season gradually wash over me, taking me subtly in again. New hopes. New dreams. Players diving around in fake agony, felled by slight clips, trips and fingertips. The Olympics are honest, difficult, a true test of the best. Years of hard work coming to fruition or crunch points, moments where you either succeed or disappear back to obscurity, unable to secure the funding to continue. Dreams shattered. The success of the Olympics provides hope, bringing the world together through excellence. The fittest people in the world all in one place at the same time. The ultimate truth. Sport, sport, sport.

Creativity

I love the winter break, a chance to stop, get ill, listen to podcasts and read. A chance to reflect on your top 20 books, albums, events, moments of the year almost past. Former conservative MP Rory Stewart is increasingly fascinating, a life spent trying to gather all information, to walk and connect with as many people as possible. His latest podcast, The long history of Ignorance, resonates in so many ways, especially episode 3 where he talks about ignorance behind creativity, the pure space where innovative work comes from which was the core theory behind my book Blank Canvas.

Why do we create stuff? Is there some inbuilt need to innovate, solidify your place in the world by manifesting? How creative practice connects to the brain is fascinating, the need to redevelop something fresh and original. Every day I have an innate need to do something creative, engage with the playful and free part of my brain. It doesn’t have to be for a long time, just at some point my inner self finds peace finds its tranquil home through scratching the creative itch.

I sometimes forge the time to create pieces of music, hours spent slaving over a hot computer based Digital Audio Workstation (DAW), perfecting sections on my computer, listening over and over to the same section, distorting reality, a sample of a Buddhist chant or the gentle lapping of the sea. Although I don’t really have the attention span for attention to detail. I love developing the structure, creating the whole outline, building up parts but then you need to go back and alter elements of instruments, hi hat positioning, the velocity of the odd kick drum, automation across your strings pads, hone the reverb until it sounds glassily transparent, build echoes onto certain moments so that that they last just the right amount of time, don’t mask or clash but aid the flow. I love creating melodies, interlocking parts that flow off each other. Rhythm less so. I like a pulse, a beat, but I keep missing all those intricacies that make up a great drum track. Creating the music is one thing, but then what happens? In previous eras you could go to your local studio, record some live parts over the basic structure, mix, master and create an artefact. Get friends to help in creating cover images, get your vinyl from the Czech pressing plant. Burn straight to 1/4-inch tape then Digital Audio Tape (DAT). Avidly, we created packs and sent them off to our favourite DJ’s and record shops. If it was any good then it got played. Not necessarily in large amounts but there was some traction, a point to the creative process, validation and the thrill of your sounds heading off into the ether. Nowadays I am increasingly thinking about the pointlessness of sending music out into the world. It is a saturated market, flooded by accessibility. The point of releasing music is generally about the self, satisfying a personal need to let the world have your piece of art, more flotsam to spin around digital highways, polluting, blocking up the cloud. The conundrum that the top 100 albums feature regular favourites such as the Beatles, Stones, Neil Sedaka and Nana Mouskouri, charity shops the new record stores. Spotify has endless music. Everyone can get their music on the platform; the gatekeepers have been sidelined at this point. Emancipation for good and bad. Although you now need connected humans, DJ’s, label managers, to make an impact. To get plays, streams, downloads you need a record company or influencer to catch onto your track, to like it in a way that connects with their other material. Music promotion companies such as Label Radar or Groover provide this service, enticing you to pitch your music to an endless supply of record companies. It does work. Some of my tracks get taken up and then you are onto stage 2. Promoting your track. Friends and family will sometimes listen but reaching beyond is so difficult, battling the tide of artists who have also released music that day. Estimates range between 60 to 100k releases per day. Every day. Still, you turn on 6 Music and Marvin Gaye is thoughtfully crooning along. Wonderwall is still building. The Smile continue to sound like Radiohead, but without the iconic songs. The Gatekeepers have shut the door and thrown away the key for infinity and beyond. Wham! and Last Christmas the two top documentaries. Nostalgia, nostalgia. So, should you keep making music I hear you cry? Maybe there should be an amnesty, no more music until we have filtered out all which is blocking, a year of silence to contemplate, think where creativity is taking us all. A year for everyone to prepare, restart culture. To try new instruments that have never been part of your world, the true blank space of creativity. Innovation through ignorance. Musicking is personal, moving your head from thoughts of Top of the Pops and stardom to a process, going through something cathartic. You need to make the music for yourself, to get what is inside out. The pure self. Anyway, I still check my Spotify streams, have extreme pleasure when it says that someone is listening to my latest track Rise up by Inochi. In-Oh-Chee. Japanese for life energy, I think. Check it out on all streaming platforms. So maybe that is the point, personal satisfaction that someone somewhere gets it, gets you. Listens to you. Reads your words. Takes time to connect their life with yours. Or maybe it’s just a release, an internal burden which needs to be set free. Our lives are time stamped by the creativity of others, remembering different eras, innovative sounds or combinations of the audio and visual, stopping us in our tracks, providing new directions and thought processes. Picking a random book from the shelf of a library stack that alters your thinking, the ideas of others taking centre stage and manipulating your life in a certain direction. We need creativity to keep us sane, provide a reason for being. It is one of the most important elements so should be embraced fully, hugged to death, translating thoughts from your mind into actions. I am interested in bringing culture and creativity to rural locations, having moved from the city during the Covid pandemic, Stewart Lee’s sketch where he has friends who move to the countryside, to live an idyllic life but the reality is extreme boredom. They enquire to friends, please come and visit; bring coke. He has only a horse to talk to now. The buzz of the city replaced by peace and calm only works if you can have a balance. A vibrant life where the beauty and purity of nature and culture intersect. An internal smile. My research is based on exploring the infrastructure and innovative ideas you can collate which forms a rural scene or scenius, finding the people and locations, stories and place. A collective will to develop culture, a blank canvas on which anything can be drawn. No competition. If you create it they will come, bringing thoughts from everyone’s head into realisation. Collective intelligence and ignorance brought beautifully together.

Introducing Grammy nominated Acantha Lang

New Orleans soul singer Acantha Lang is performing at the Marine Theatre Lyme Regis Dorset on Friday 6th December, supported by two top Funk and Soul DJ’s. It’s an unbelievable coup for the town and area so here is some info about Acantha

https://www.instagram.com/acanthalang/

“Acantha Lang … I love your voice!”

Jools Holland

“She’s brilliant … destined for world domination.”

The Craig Charles Funk & Soul Show, BBC 6Music

New Orleans-born (London-based) rising Soul artist Acantha Lang has been compared to legends Aretha Franklin and Gladys Knight. Her acclaimed debut album ‘Beautiful Dreams,’ released in 2023, charted at #3 on The Official UK Jazz & Blues Albums Chart, garnering critical praise and rave reviews with 5-star ratings in Echoes Magazine and Soul Bag Magazine (France). Acantha graced the covers of the iconic Blues & Soul and Echoes Magazines and received Album of the Month honours from Soul Tracks, Relix, American Songwriter, KCRW’s ‘Top Tune,’ and more. Tastemaker Craig Charles (BBC 6Music’s Funk & Soul Show) notes: “She’s brilliant…destined for world domination.”

Lang has also been captivating audiences globally, making her US TV debut on CBS Saturday Morning and performing at the prestigious 2024 SXSW Music Festival in Austin, Texas, major venues in Spain and the UK, and renowned clubs like Bizz’Art (Paris, France) and Melkweg (Netherlands). In April 2024, she was a featured artist at The Dew Drop in New Orleans and performed alongside The New Mastersounds at The House of Blues and Blue Nile as part of the BACKBEAT Jazz Fest series during New Orleans Jazz Fest weekend where she met new fans like Anderson.Paak. She was also invited as a special guest for Jon Cleary at his sold-out show at the renowned Jazz Cafe in London.

Lang’s songwriting prowess was recognized before her solo career, crafting tracks for the GRAMMY-nominated Robert Randolph & The Family Band. Her debut EP, ‘Sugar Woman,’ earned her critical acclaim and the 2021 Soul Tracks Readers’ Choice Award for New Artist of the Year. She was also accepted into the Recording Academy’s (Grammy) 2022 member class.

Currently writing album #2 with further US and European touring to come off the back of a string of sold-out recent shows in Spain, this GRAMMY-nominated songwriter has established a dedicated legion of fans with her 13m+ viewed “Standing On The Shoulders Of” soul series.

With over 3 million streams and placements on top Spotify playlists like All Funked Up, Best Retro Songs, and Best Funk Songs of 2023, Lang’s music is resonating with a global audience. Radio support in the UK (BBC 6Music’s Funk & Soul Show) and the US (KCRW’s Top Tune of the Day) further solidifies her rising star status. Her most recently released single was a re-imagined funk cover of Bill Withers’ ‘Grandma’s Hands’, that was named Jazz FM’s Breakfast Show record of the week, added to the A List, plus also got love from esteemed DJ Trevor Nelson on BBC Radio 2. Acantha is currently preparing to return to the studio to write her sophomore album, slated for 2025

6.12.24. Marine Theatre, Lyme Regis

Politics

Democracy is a two headed thing which never really seems to exist. In the UK we are told that we live in a democratic country, but your choices are so limited. For many, the choice is to tactically vote at an election, to try and not get the person you don’t want to win. The countryside is swathed in traditionally right-wing Tory voting areas, so if you want to get them out then you generally need to vote for the Liberal Democrats or the more extreme right of Brexit/ Reform. Labour generally exists in the metropolis, the city, working people seeking social support. A completely divided country, the cultural and the natural. The have and have nots. Many rich live in cities of course, driving the hands of production. The rednecks out in the countryside. Maybe the divide between urban and rural will be bridged in coming generations, as the grey haired, blue wearing right wingers gradually return to the sky. New blood, original ideas, an urban sensibility restored to countryside domains. Greater cultural diversity rather than the siloed world we live within. An election has been called, oh not another one says Brenda from Bristol. In all honesty, I have been waiting for this one for what seems like an eternity. The chance for the people to finally make a decision to get rid of the Conservative government. Almost a decade and a half in power and people worse off. Everything worse. Just look at homelessness, streets littered with bereft, roofless, unsupported human beings in one of the richest countries in the world. See that and let it sink in. That’s your guide. They really don’t care unless something directly affects them. Let’s see what it is like to have at least a few caring people in charge. It is possible. The world can be a better place where the rich actually support the concept of homelessness being eradicated. Sleeping in parks, loomed over by massive atriums, buildings which just have masses of wasted space just so that they look good, make an impression. If you really want to tackle lack of accommodation, cut down on atriums, reuse that money and space. Simple. Such a strange world we live in, where solutions stare us in the face, greed and malice have control with 1% of the population owning the majority share. The rich getter exponentially richer. How did this ever come to pass? Why do we allow such unfair behaviour to occur on our watch. Vote them out. I hope other planets have managed to develop a more equitable system. Tax the rich. Take unused space. Share to support human life. Aim for a non-hierarchical world, a utopia where everyone is equal. The universal basic wage will be in action at some point so let’s push for it now before the robots have properly taken over, whilst there is still a chance to take control of our future. Proportionally represented by artificial intelligence rather than just human reasoning, compassion and understanding.

Late on 4th July 2024 confirmation arrived that UK Tory chaos was finally pushed into the long grass, out of view, the start of a period of time to rethink. Labour bring hope, compassion, a social sensibility vividly at odds with the last 14 years. Listening to acceptance speeches from the reds, there is humility and respect for fellow humans, whether opponents or constituents. Hopefully a level of humanity has returned, kept in check by an astonishing number of left leaning MPs. That is what is so seismic. Not the scale of Labour’s victory or the unnerving presence of Reform, but the opportunity for the centre to eft in the UK to make change, to rescue politics from the gutter, to respond to human needs, to make a bold and compassionate statement. To bring love back into the equation. Hopefully there is this strength in Labour so it can seep into public consciousness. As a friend has suggested, the victorian undertaker and the lettuce have gone. Thank god.

Rants

As humans we love a rant, inside our heads churning things over before generally unleashing at some point onto unsuspecting victims, impassioned by the unfairness of lots of things within life. As we get older you would think that calmer heads develop, compartmentalising concerns, ideas, thoughts. Taking time to think over, ponder, before spouting them out. Or do you actually need to verbalise thoughts in this way. Rants continue on certain paths, honing in on set ideas or concerns. The everyday unfairness of the world. The traffic, new lights system, being on hold, social media, politics, war, climate change, pollution, music, art, LA, saxophone players, jazz, auto tuned chipmunk vocals, radio, sound quality, public toilets, sewage in the water. Knowledge is power, something that has probably occurred since eternity, new measuring systems and media openness have brought debates to the fore. Is it better to keep the rats inside. Bottle them up but also take the time to think, put everything into perspective. Talking worries through with close friends seems to be a therapeutic way to unload data from within you but does it actually help in reality. Those issues probably still exist. We still live in a political system, first past the post, where inequalities rule. Hierarchies of power. Unequal wages. Premier League football players. The overly white male crowds at football matches baying for each other’s blood. Ranting in a neanderthal manner. Fighter gatherer without the gathering. Sometimes we are at peace. Lying on a subbed sipping a colourful martini, umbrellas and fruit bursting out, the sun gently dipping down, beautiful smells, fresh food being lovingly cooked ready to gorge. But, oh the chicken is slightly undercooked, the rice mushy, chips soggy. You are alone. There is no-one to hear your rant. You think about it inside and politely tip the restaurant before firing off a volley of texts to nearest and dearest. Whatever situation we are in, our plight is generally OK, small issues that blow up in our minds, take a step or two back, breathe in through your nose and out of your mouth. Chill.

Conspiracies

Today I heard the latest conspiracy theory. That planes were being flown in the sky to break up the atmosphere through spraying chemicals which then caused rain to occur. Crazy stuff. It has rained a lot this year. The Covid 19 pandemic started off in a wave of beautiful weather in the UK creating a bucolic gorgeous spring where the blossom was richer, the smells more fragrant and the light sharper. Exactly three years it is yet another dank dull day. Dreary me. If planes could cause the weather to change, then surely this is what could happen over drought ridden expanses. It could be the work for Kim Stanley Robinson’s Ministry of the Future. Conspiracy theories provide realism, a connection to world, an ideal that we can change things. Perversely they provide reasoning. Everyone talks about the weather, especially in the UK, where patterns are difficult to follow due to the almost constant variance. In the 1990s I buried myself amongst conspiracy, David Icke the TV presenting goalkeeper who took me into debates about Lady Diana and Dodie, the Twin Towers, and finally that the UK royal family were lizards. Now this just took me too far. The others have intrigue and possibility but amphibian transformation amongst the blue blooded was a step too far. Mayan conspiracies, Graham Hancock’s Fingerprints of the gods, redefining history, challenging norms, great stories. Truth. It has been battered. Donald Trump, that mainstream conspiracy dude, stolen election, Four Seasons Total Landscaping. Covid again. Hopefully, the UK election culminating on July 4th 2024 will provide a break from populism, solutions to real world problems, a sense of care and compassion. Real people creating real world solutions, not just propaganda. No pie in the sky. We can but hope that the stars are aligned this time.