Wow. I honestly couldn’t tell you how we’ve managed it but it does appear as though there is a peak in sight to the stuff. Don’t get me wrong, there’s still stuff but there is less of it. For now. Memory lane’s looking pretty good but I feel like we did that very recently and I couldn’t sleep at night with another list in such close proximity. Perhaps there’s a whole line in things that I remember but never did? Or lost? Or never lost? I need a Monocle. Roll video.
I realise this post is “late” but the first twelve minutes and thirty-five seconds of 2017’s Sun & Moon reboot, ‘Pokemon The Movie - I Choose You!’ is pure, unadulterated magic. I had not seen this one and did not want to. That in mind: Watch it. I dare both you and your Brock-hard tear ducts. It is the best of all times that have yet had time to be [give that a second] and, in addition, this Ash is less of a body bag than I recall him being. If that isn’t enough to grab your attention, rainbows are meta, family exists and I want to go and catch bugs immediately. Also, their universe is dense. Way more so than before. I mean, we’re still shakey on the whole fantasy dog fight thing...but fun? And those colours? And better! Better than that one fucking time! His Charmandoor melts my twisted, cold, dead heart without fail and can do just the same for yours if you let. it. in.
Speaking of warm, sticky feelings, how does this little ditty renew your faith in homo sapiens inc: My stupidly wonderful gloves from Hestra? The ones that I dropped in London’s darkest underground? The ones I mourned as one would a misplaced pair of lambs wool brothers?
I reported them as gone to the good folks at TFL lost property office - conveniently situated at 200 Baker St, just in case you find yourself in need - because, you know, I watched a program on the Bee Bee Sea [presented above for your convenience] that claimed they find lots of misc that no one ever claims. Despite receiving many a sympathetic [humouring] smile when regaling captive victims with my very interesting tale of woe, I remained optimistic. Positive thinking is a thing with power. I called them the other morning and shut the FRONT door, they’d found them. They are now back in my inside coat pocket, where they belong. They are mine.
This is something that I thought I was more tardy to than I actually am. ‘Hunter’ (Domino, 2018) is the third long offering from the irrefutable Ms. Calvi. I had it on repeat big time in the run up ‘till Xmas and I’m not sorry. The album has a great deal to say on the subject of passion, sex and gender fluidity and this is some of Calvi’s most free, animalistic work to date. There is, as per usual, much to be said for experiencing it on vinyl. The vocal breaks, there’s a critical mass and the light dissapears into the dark at some ineffable point. Now that I think of it, Bill Henson has something on the subject and perhaps we’ll look at that real soon. Mister R and Miss P made an early entreaty to my brain that may have passed unnoticed were it not for his assertation that he had already proclaimed her virtue upon my insistance that he listen to the album.
What can I say; he has excellent taste.
JD - TACOCAT
[Props to Paul Hudson for his phenomenal shot of Anna Calvi, taken at Rough Trade.]