This week has been a thought-provoking one. First of all, I attempted to get Beyoncé tickets to her show at the London O2 Arena but failed miserably at both of the pre-sale events I tried. Upon receiving my payslip on Friday, I had to make a difficult decision – due to having to catch up on tax I was owing from changing jobs in the middle of January, I didn’t get as much money as I had anticipated. Some budget readjustments on top of this showed me the unfortunate truth, that I had to give up trying for Beyoncé tickets. As much as she puts on a fantastic show, and as much as it would be a major life event to see her live (just as it was to see Jennifer Lopez for my birthday last year), money is more important. And I think the money would be better spent on clearing my overdraft, and then saving up for a holiday for Toby and myself later on in the year – something that we’d both enjoy. Although I would love for Toby to be present at the Beyoncé gig, I guess the mature decision is to put the money towards something we would both equally enjoy – Toby would have been there at least partly for my benefit.
This weekend we’ve had Claire and Ian staying with us, and the past two weekends we’ve had Karina and Hannah too. I like the feeling that people enjoy visiting us and I hope that they will have a good time and want to return. Yesterday we visited the Saatchi Gallery and its current exhibition of Soviet art really captured my interest. At times it was revolting, but it was consistently engaging and I enjoyed it a lot. This made me think that in a way, it’s a shame that studying as an adult is so much more expensive and has to be balanced with adult responsibilities, holding down a full time job, budgeting and so on. Because in my opinion, when I was an undergraduate student in my late teens, I didn’t have the maturity (not necessarily emotionally, but in terms of the fullness and sharpness of intellect) to fully appreciate everything I studied. Although I was by no means stupid, and I definitely put the effort in, I know that if I were to my degree again, I would be able to turn my 2:1 into a 1st with the brain I have now. I love my Italian class because I love studying; I loved my postgrad because not only was it a pivotal time in my personal and emotional life, but I was truly studying with freedom and with my eyes open. That time, there had been no element of following the pack to university hoping that everyone else’s instincts that it was the right thing to do were right on (as it happened, they were); I knew that doing my postgrad was me grasping my future and changing my professional direction. Study is important because it can be life changing, but I certainly also love it because I am addicted to the feeling of learning and enriching myself, in the belief that it makes me a better person.
After the Saatchi Gallery, we went to visit Pete’s new flat in Kennington:
It’s amazing that someone our age has been able to purchase a flat in London and get on the property ladder – it’s so bloody difficult, and at the moment making ends meet while we’re just paying the monthly rent is proving challenge enough! We headed on to Clapham for a meal and drinks, and I saw Clapham with the same eyes I saw West Kensington earlier that day as we headed up to meet Christina at her flat in Fulham. I saw these places with the eyes of someone who now lives in Chiswick and has unwittingly grown accustomed to its middle-class pleasantness. All of a sudden, the assault of newsagent windows chock full of posters, cheap eateries emboldened by harsh lighting and residences with missing corners and unkempt windows was distasteful. I couldn’t reconcile my sudden, definite prejudice with the facts that I don’t come from a particularly glamorous part of Bristol, that at school I was surrounded by people who were from more affluent families than me and I was thus proud of my brain and my achievements all the more, that for my first year of living in London my flat in Earls Court was conveniently located and all that I needed, but it wasn’t particularly luxurious. How quickly I’ve learned to see things differently! I hope, while we have achieved a lot in terms of where we live and I appreciate the comfortable home Toby and I have created for ourselves, that I haven’t become a snob or lost touch with the essential things in life which are more important than symbols of rich or poor.
As Toby and I have settled into life together in Chiswick, we joke that we are becoming middle-aged – drinks out with friends are a treat, and we’re often so tired that we are grateful to stay in (as much as we enjoy socialising!). In Clapham last night, after a meal at Strada that took too long to arrive, we went to a bar that was crammed full of people 5 years younger than us shouting at one another over music that was decent but far too loud, and yet: there was no dancefloor! After a cocktail, we threw in the towel – either I want to dance, or I want to talk, but not being able to either was frustrating! Is all of this this another sign of old age, and of shifting out of the up and coming generation into the hasbeens? Or (I prefer this option) have I just grown up and now I see the world through the eyes of an adult who is fortunate, wise and no longer has to suffer (as many) fools?
I literally don’t know where to start with this review. Comparisons have been made to James Brown (the lead single “Tightrope” has a funky, dirty bass and backchat with Monáe’s band), Judy Garland (“Oh, Maker” features a stately purity of voice in its verses, only to give way to a joyful exaltation of a chorus, and is one of the album’s highlights) and even Erykah Badu (Monáe sings with a knowing voice, sometimes sounding wise well beyond her years while not even connected to this cosmos). But Janelle Monáe is undeniably her own woman: crazy hairstyles, performing in black-tie tuxedos, employing ethereal instruments coupled with double-time beats, composing her material in suites… It would be audacious enough if it didn’t succeed, if Monáe were above her station with this Metropolis, 28th century high-concept shit. But she’s not. Although at times The ArchAndroid feels a bit like it’s overreaching, the vast majority of it is exciting, mindblowing and more than a little bizarre. This makes it one of the boldest releases to come out in quite a while.
I’m not going to attempt any detail of the story behind this album; it’s only vaguely important to the running order of the songs. In very brief, Cindi Mayweather was an android who fell in love; the cyber-hunters were invited to hunt her down; she has since discovered the ArchAndroid helmet which displays the city of Metropolis on the top – yep, that’s the album cover above! – and has transformed from pariah to messiah for the robot population of Metropolis. Monáe creates a textured evocation of this hyper-space reality within her music, and it’s appropriate that The ArchAndroid sounds nothing like anything else in current popular music. However, its melodies are still catchy, its production tricks are still appreciable (although the music sounds far removed from anything Sean “Diddy” Combs would touch, Monáe is signed to his BadBoy imprint, whose releases normally display impeccable production values – if, at times, little else), and the meanings behind the inventive, often poetic lyrics (from “Say You’ll Go” – “Love is not a fantasy / A haiku written in Japanese”) go beyond the specifics of the Metropolis concept to speak more generally of love, society, and human emotions and situations. In other words, Monáe hasn’t concept-ed herself into oblivion; the songs can still have meanings to each individual listener, which is important because we still need to relate in order to truly engage with the music.
Moving to the specifics of the music on The ArchAndroid, it’s a hefty album, comprising two suites that are much weightier then Monáe’s The Chase EP; that disc had three songs which were swift, exciting and irresistible. The special edition had two extra non-concept tracks; a plea to the President for social consideration, and a beautiful, restrained cover of Nat King Cole’s “Smile”. Monáe may not be a vocalist in the same way as Beyoncé, Mariah Carey or Christina Aguilera, but she has an extraordinary control of her instrument, and displays its versatility when songs require it (similar, in a way, to Toni Braxton or Sade). On The ArchAndroid, Monáe alternately displays grace (“Oh, Maker”), subtlety (“Sir Greendown”), uninhibited release (“Come Alive (The War Of The Roses)”) and an old-school sensibility that fuses scat, Broadway and Latin rhythms (epic closer “BaBopByeYa”). Suite II (the first suite of The ArchAndroid) is generally more immediate and accessible to the uninitiated listener: after a classical intro (although its concept hangs together flawlessly for most of the album, the instrumental interludes may be slick but they are still unnecessary filler!), Monáe gets straight down to business with the help of spoken word artist Saul Williams for “Dance Or Die”. Beats fibrillate below Monáe’s haughty poetry, and before the listener knows it, the song segues into “Faster”, into “Locked Inside”…; before you know it, you’ve reached subdued ballad “Mushrooms & Roses” and Suite II is nearly over.
The seamless melting of one song into the next is a neat production trick, but one that we have seen before. It has its risks, since the listener has to pay attention to his iPod, CD player or media player of choice in order to determine where one track ends and the next begins. If the songs are dull, they risk totally going over the listener’s head. Luckily, the majority of The ArchAndroid has enough memorable hooks, production tricks and bizarre sections to stick in the mind and merit repeat listens. Suite II is far stronger than Suite III for this however; Suite III, although shorter, is much denser and ethereal. Although Suite II had some lovely slower material (“Oh, Maker” and “Sir Greendown”), Suite III seems weighed down by the lack of upbeat or midtempo songs. “Make The Bus” is an ok effort but hardly lives up to the breathtaking pace of Suite II; “Wondaland” seems altogether too precious. However, Suite III comes into its own as it reaches its conclusion: “57821” (the serial number of the robot Cindi Mayweather) begins to engage the listener with its subtle, undulating backing, before the majesty of closing tracks “Say You’ll Go” and “BaBopByeYa” unfurls. In all, Suite II is stronger and more addictive listening, but Suite III has its moments despite its more downbeat demeanour.
Why does it all work? It’s beyond me, as Janelle Monáe seems to have thrown everything and the kitchen sink into this album – in terms of lyrics, vocal approaches, production tricks, musical genres, concept… It’s a miracle that it doesn’t sound overblown, desperate or self-important, but for the most part – it doesn’t. Only on “Wondaland”, “Mushrooms & Roses” and “Neon Valley Street” does Monáe sound a tiny bit like she’s faking, stalling while she scrabbles for a new idea with which to blindside us. The vast majority of The ArchAndroid is not only severely impressive, but sounds genuine. Which makes Janelle Monáe a hugely talented, innovative young woman, and one of the best new artists to emerge in recent years. Take a listen to The ArchAndroid and prepare to be both mentally and aurally stimulated.
I just wanted to write a quick blog, inspired largely by the lovely day I’ve had today. Mike & I (along with his son Billy) spent the day going around Broadmead & Cabot Circus shopping, looking for presents for his wife (whose birthday it is tomorrow) and basically just spending time together. I got to push Billy in his pushchair, help Mike pick out jewellery, and I didn’t even spend money on myself! Mike very kindly bought me a bottle of Touch by Grigio Perla, which he really didn’t need to do – but then I bought him True Blood season 1 on DVD a few weeks ago for the same reason, to thank him for being such a good friend to me. I appreciate his friendship, and apart from the course making such a difference in my job prospects and optimism, his friendship has been an amazing thing that has transformed my life and changed who I am. Just as if I hadn’t done the course, I wouldn’t have met Toby (nor some new friends that I’ve made, both on my course and through twitter 🙂 ), I possibly wouldn’t have had the impetus to start learning to drive again, I wouldn’t have gotten the tattoos that I now have… taking the Careers Guidance course has transformed my life in ways I couldn’t have foreseen, and in ways I truly deserve. I don’t believe in god, but it does seem like fate, like things have finally slotted into place. I’m so happy.
For the first time in 10 months, probably, I went into the Perfume Shop. Walking past with Mike & Billy, I gauged who was in there, and seeing Henna, Ebony and Liz (i.e. none of the people whom I really don’t want to see again), I thought I’d pop in and see how everyone was. It was interesting to see how their lives have changed, but they have effectively stayed in the same place (though the shop does look more vibrant and full of stock compared to how it was a year ago when I was working there) whereas my life has changed so much and I’ve moved on. Ebony was telling me her experiences as deputy manager (my old role), and it rang so true for me (a lot of similar issues with the manager to what I had, interestingly!) . I hope she can escape soon, because she’s an intelligent young woman who can do so much better for herself rather than working herself to the bone in retail for not enough reward. Even down to the fact that I had to explain that Billy was not my child (I haven’t given birth to a 3 year old in the last 11 months), Mike was not my boyfriend (everyone whom I came into that shop with during my time there, regardless of gender, age or anything else, was my potential sleeping partner according to them – that’s an accurate indication of how much the shop consumes your life to push out almost anything else), and that I was happy working at the hospital and studying on my course. Ebony and Liz were chatting a lot, and we really need to catch up with a coffee to exchange full stories. But it was nice to se that after everything that had happened since I left, and despite the fact that I will very rarely go into that shop again because I have no desire to ever see certain people who work there again, I still have some friends there. It won’t be the same, but it was a surprisingly pleasant experience to reconnect with those people, and I feel now that those friendships I cultivated during the time I worked there may not go to waste after all. Time will tell.
In life, I’ve made some really good friends. Sometimes we drift apart for a season, other times we remain close no matter what happens, but friendships are things that I truly cherish. In the past, I’ve been really let down and disappointed by people, but as I’ve grown older I’ve learned lessons and that disappointment occurs a lot less nowadays. Perhaps I’m just a better judge of character, but life isn’t a popularity contest – I feel lucky and happy to have the friends around me whom I have, and I pray that they never go away because they make me a better person, they teach me things about myself, about themselves and about the world which make me a more valuable, wiser person or it. Thankyou all 🙂
Peep the new video to Nivea’s newest song, “Love Hurts”.
I am a fan of Nivea’s music, because she seems to have some artistic control, she has a strong pen game, a lovely voice and most importantly (for this blog entry at least), she wears her heart on her sleeve. She has her fun club songs, swagger and confidence songs, but she also has love songs that seem to express from the heart her emotions (check “Complicated” and “ILY”). This new track is no different. What strikes me about the song and particularly about the video is how fearless she is in confronting her imperfections, her indiscretions and her pain. By getting Lil’ Wayne (her ex and babyfather) to star in the video as her love interest, she’s vividly bringing to life her regret. There’s no subtext – only text. Personally I don’t know how wise it is to be so utterly open with your conflicted emotions and reliving your love found and lost for all to see, but it’s undeniably brave and makes for compelling reading and listening.
I remember when I started my course at uni and I told a couple of people that I had some of my music on myspace. One of them who went and listened to it said that he was really surprised how deep the lyrics were for someone of my age. I think part of it is to do with my upbringing, seeing my parents constantly battling, going back and forth between love and hate, raging arguments that occasionally got quite violent. As a child, it was a lot to handle and I don’t think that it’s something that ever leaves you, although I also readily acknowledge that many people go through a lot worse. But that was more than enough for me to handle. I think that being taught from an early age that “love is pain” is a realistic but not particularly healthy lesson to learn, and I often wonder how I ended up as seemingly well-adjusted as I have! *insert laughter here* I think that’s why I’ve often had tortured feelings for people I can’t have, why I blatantly have control issues (being conscious of power games), daddy issues and have emotionally attached myself to older, bad-boy style men, and why I was so nervous in starting my current relationship. It took me about a month and a half to really see and appreciate how lucky I am, how wonderful my boyfriend is and to learn just to breathe, take it easy and start to be open to him about my vulnerabilities, my flaws and all.
Who knows what will happen in the future? But right now, I am learning that although sometimes love does hurt and has hurt me in the past, it doesn’t always have to be that way. Love can lift you up, and should lift you up more than it tears you down. If I were either of my parents, I would have gotten divorced. But although as a child I prayed for that nightly at times, I am glad that they didn’t and I admire their strength of commitment even though I still wholeheartedly believe that if it were me, I wouldn’t have deemed it worth it to go through what they went through. But my parents’ relationship is not really any of my business – it’s between them and I can only complain when their shit affects me (which I do, when appropriate). When does the point come when you put yourself first, your sanity and your heart? Watching the above video, I wonder if Nivea has really started putting herself first or if she’s still in the midst of an emotional battle and a broken heart? It is compelling viewing and listening, but it also really makes me think and I wonder if heartbreak and anguish is something a singer has to go through in order to really be able to write heartfelt lyrics and lend vocal credence and soul to singing those lyrics. I guess that that’s why I had that feedback (and received comments on my lyrics and vocals throughout my singing ‘career’ to date) from my songs on myspace. To me, my lyrics can and will get deeper as I continue to write and record, and my voice is edgier and more soulful live than it is on record. (Those are my shortcomings with the technology, which is a constant work in progress!)
In short, I (like Nivea, I suppose) wear my heart on my sleeve, feel pain and am glad to be finally learning to appreciate love without the hurt that has come with it in the past, both in what I’ve experienced and also what I’ve learned from those surrounding me. I wonder if however, Nivea is torturing herself further by putting herself back in the situation with having Weezy in the video. For me, that reenactment would rip me apart inside. However she manages to keep it together, she’s a braver person than me and I salute that commitment to artistry and to baring one’s soul.
I was on the way home from work at the hospital on Friday afternoon and it began to occur to me while I was sat on the bus, for no particular reason, that just as we all want different things that can help us on our journey to happiness, so we’re all coming from different places with different perspectives. I thought back to Monday night and Tuesday morning, when I’d spent the night at Mike’s place, and playing games with his son Billy. He messed about with his food, he splashed Mike while he was having a bath, he was bashing a toy meerkat on the floor the next morning looking for coconuts. He’s three years old, and he’s a bright kid, but he’s a child that is almost totally carefree. And why shouldn’t he be? That’s one of the luxuries of being so young, that we don’t realise is a luxury until it’s passed us by.
Does that make him “immature”? In a way, yes – but with none of the bad connotations that the word usually carries. He’s a child, he’s got a lot of growing up to do, experiencing of the world and everything that entails. So as a child, we can’t blame him for not understanding the complexity of relationships, people, and a hundred other things that fall under the umbrella of “life”. But just because he’s a child, that gives him a get-out clause that we don’t afford other people whom we presume should know better. So I was sat on the bus, wondering if maturity and immaturity is just an illusion? Is it a concept that we’ve invented to fuel our own feelings of superiority and comfort us when we’re feeling insecure?
I know that I’m certainly guilty of this. Through the years, many many people (parents, teachers, friends, colleagues) have told me that I am “mature for my age”, “wise beyond my years” and so on and so forth. I appreciate the compliment, but it’s meant that sometimes I’ve looked at people my age, or people whom I’ve just thought should know better than to behave in the way in which they’re behaving, and the first thing to my mind is “they’re immature”. Is that really just code for “oh, I am better than them”? To me, it seems to be a way of dressing up a superiority complex. Looking at it now, I think that when we see people as “immature”, it’s not because they’re mentally or emotionally stunted – or at least, it’s not their fault. They just have a different viewpoint of life / whatever the issue or context is, because they’ve been through different things or they’ve been raised a certain way, that they approach the complexities from a different angle. I’m sure that I’m not the deepest person around, and that some people think I am shallow. I like to think I am not, but then who likes to think of themselves as shallow? 😉 I like to think I’m mature, but then who likes to think of themselves as immature?
So I am trying to restrain myself from automatically judging people as “immature”. Yes, I may disagree with the way they express themselves in connection with certain situations, and I might think that if it were me, I would do things differently, approach the situation differently, or have a more nuanced viewpoint. But we’re all learning, and maybe instead of judging someone else, I should learn to take a step back and see things the way they do. Sometimes I think too much, and perhaps simplicity is better. Mike and I did say sometimes that it would be nice to just be able to switch your brain off and not overthink things – I’m certainly guilty of at times taking things too seriously. And perhaps, sometimes part of ‘maturity’ (whether it exists or not) is letting loose and having fun. I honestly believe more and more as I get older that levity and laughter is vital for sanity.
☆ I am... chase. ★ 