Alive, living, beauty

I held a big, furry moth in my palm today as it quivered its way out of life. I made a point of appreciating just how beautiful it was in its perfect imperfection as I felt something within it pulse ever so faintly against the flesh of my hand.

It mattered to me that this little creature had a warm place for its last few seconds alive rather than being forsaken on the pavement.

It mattered that someone, somewhere appreciated the beauty of it being alive and vital while it lasted.

I cried, a little, at how lonely and impervious to my grief the world sometimes feels.

Of course, this isn’t really about the moth because it is and was always oblivious. The above tells you much more about the architect of the words than anything else, as the things we say and do and write always do.

One life long conversation about ourselves.


Easy Fantastic

I’ve only just stopped to consider the title of the album I’ve borrowed to title this blog post. I’d not heeded it, more interested in absorbing the music or in figuring out which of Tom Williams and the Boat was Tom, where they’d come from and what they were all about.

It precisely describes my experience of getting lost amongst the music, which is always my favourite thing about listening to music (and many other things I enjoy, for that matter). I was lured in by hearing their Cover of Dancing in the Dark on 6 Music, where our lead vocalist’s voice is shown off to fabulous, sultry effect.

“I ain’t nothin but tired and I’m just tired and bored with myself …”

The intensity ebbs and flows throughout, pulling me in during the more intimate moments of the track, almost straining to make out the words at times, aware of my need to hear every last syllable. As it builds I am eventually aware of what is going on beyond voice, the accompaniment of guitar, drums and piano so perfectly part of the whole, despite my inattentivity to them, that to use the word accompaniment is insulting.

And then I sought out their albums, which are an absolute joy. Listen either loudly or on headphones so you can be surrounded by it and get lost in the textures conjured by, for example ‘Little Bit In Me’ or ’24’, and listening to the words becomes secondary to just being in it.

Even better, though, go to a gig. Go hear them live. Experience how that intensity is ever present, ever an intent, more so even in the quieter, slower moments. My favourite part of the gig was hearing Satellite, apparently the first time they’d performed it live. It made me drop my head back, soften my posture, brought me to the brink of tears and kept me there.

Go listen 🙂 And if you do, let me know what you think. I’m curious.

And, the bit I am proudest of – It was a small gig at the Hope in Brighton and I was brave enough to go collect signatures on my copy of the album from some of the guys afterwards. I had to steel myself to do it, but they were absolutely lovely about it, found me a better pen and made me feel glad I’d asked. I have 2 of 5 signatures still to collect, so I’d better go see them again …

Thanks you lovely, talented people, for an amazing night. Count me a massive fan 😉