Bucket List Update— Andy Close -
Every month, we update our playlist with a new set of songs for the month, before starting again the following month. Andy takes time off from limping around Brighton licking the faces of strangers to write some words to give you a flavour of what to expect.
Inspired by Boris’ timely and well-deserved victory I took a little time off work and have been doing some pre-emptive DIY. Here’s the stuff I haven’t quite ticked off yet:
- Fashion hazmat suits out of Waitrose bags for life.
- Slide the imposing trampoline (that I said the kids would never fucking use) to one side of the garden.
- Dig large pit in freed up space and push garden shed into it.
- Make shed fallout proof by lining it with Waitrose bags for life.
- Stock shed with five years’ worth of Mediterranean couscous, rosemary and rock salt focaccia and Heinz macaroni cheese.
- Write handbook that teaches the children how to make antibiotics out of rusty water and dead spiders after my inevitable passing.
- Write second handbook that teaches the children how to fight with tridents and nets, fashioned from Waitrose bags for life, when starvation forces them to emerge from subterranean shed into smouldering and lawless wasteland.
- Go through neighbours’ bins to ascertain the quality of their diets should cannibalism become our only option. You want your chicken corn fed rather than Ginsters fed am I right? I’M LOOKING AT YOU MR RECENTLY DIVORCED IN NUMBER 39!!!!!
As busy as I’ve been, I still managed to rustle up some noise. This is what your August should sound like…
(SANDY) ALEX G
Whilst Trump theatrically plonks breezeblocks on his ‘borders’ one hundred and thirty Americans a day are gently persuaded to float up and out of their lives by a spiralling opioid epidemic. It’s highly likely that by the time the mortar’s dried in his bullshit wall, Donald may be alone - shirt untucked and triumphant smile fading, wondering why his country’s lights have gone out. Alex G prettily laments the loss of his good friend over strummed My Bloody Valentine-esque melodies and makes me think about the folk that I don’t see anymore because I’m either too lazy or on the wrong plane of existence.
SARATHY KORWAR Feat. ZIA AHMED & ADITYA PRAKASH
More desperately political than It Takes a Nation of Millions and more furious than Rage Against the Machine’s eponymous debut. The fact that this record is so challenging and so necessary should heat our collective cheeks with shame. I won’t try and glibly describe it but if you decide to humour this month’s playlist with only one song, please make it this one.
This is all high hat, clap and throb and like all great pop doesn’t outstay its welcome. Put it on at a dinner party and gyrate raunchily whilst your guests prod queasily at their turnip tartiflette and try to maintain conversations about loft extensions.
This song was on your Dad’s car radio as you pulled away from the hotel, campsite or villa that staged the most emotionally intense holiday of your 13-year-old life. Summer friends shrinking in the rear window as you pull away, the coolness of the vehicle interior accentuating the prickle that two weeks’ worth of sun have left on your skin. Everything ringing, everything half recognised, squinted at through vibrant saturation and lens flare. I think this is why we love an Instagram filter, we’re just trying to emulate how pretty our eyes made everything look when we were thirteen.