Can music help us when times are hard?
A brief guide to surviving what comes next
Life is a lot right now eh? The old adage that one should aspire to live in interesting times is being pushed to its limits. I’d gleefully accept some slightly more pedestrian times, although arguably it was the relatively calmer period of a couple of decades ago that led to apathy, which in turn led to…well, this. Before you skip the rest of this post, rest assured that it’s not going to be about politics - there are people far more capable than me if you’re interested in that topic. I’d recommend Musa Okwonga, Adam Bienkov and Carole Cadwalladr in particular if you want some sense made of the current state of affairs.
I’m going to stick what I know, which is music, and share some records that I think could be helpful in the uncertain years to come. It occurs to me that if we’re all going to get through this next part, we need a couple of (seemingly contradictory) things: music to calm us, and music to get us ready for the fight.
Without calm it would be easy to get overwhelmed by the endless stream of horror that confronts us, but equally if we aren’t able to get ourselves geared up to combat it, then nothing will change and we’re doomed to repeat this cycle for eternity. Over the past few weeks I set myself the task of listening to a record to hype me up in the morning and a record to bring my some peace in the evening. Here are some of the highlights, presented in pairs - I’d love to hear your recommendations in the comments….
Beastie Boys - Paul’s Boutique
It’s not surprising that my first instinct is to reach for an album from my teenage years; that time when music was the most important thing in my life. As well as being a riotous listen it’s also the sound of a band breaking free of assumptions made about them. Whilst there’s still a hefty dose of silliness in the lyrics, the musicality is anything but immature, with the Dust Brothers throwing a dizzying array of samples into the mix - something that changing legalities on copyrights would now make impossible. And if you really want to feel like you can take on the world, play ‘Looking Down The Barrel Of A Gun’ as loud as you can. You’ll feel like you can do anything.
Beth Orton - Trailer Park
Another 90s ‘comfort’ listen here, Beth Orton’s folktronica classic was a post club staple when I was at university. There are two tracks that immediately came to mind when I picked the record out: the optimistic, warming sounds of opener ‘She Cries Your Name’ and the heartbreaking Phil Spector cover ‘I Wish I Never Saw The Sunshine’. Listening back I realise that much of the production actually feels quite unsettling and eerie, but Orton’s vocals are so soothing that any other feelings soon evaporate.
Fela & The Africa 70 - Roforofo Fight
Reaching for some Fela was an obvious choice; he’s an artist for whom resistance and justice were as important as rhythm and melody. I could have picked any of his albums - I went for this one as it had ‘fight’ in the title, which might be a little superficial but is as good a reason as any. One of the things I love about Fela’s music is how he uses dynamics; setting a rhythm and then waiting for the right moment to bring in the signature horns and keys. In music, as in resistance, timing is everything.
Allysha Joy - The Making Of Silk
Whilst all of the records listed here have a very personal meaning to me, this one stands apart. We released this, Allysha’s 3rd solo record, last year on our label First Word, and it’s become a record that I revisit often. For me it’s the musical manifestation of self-care. In Allysha’s own words, ‘it's (about) the kind of love that bell hooks writes about, that lives in the poetry of Mary Oliver, Hafiz and the passionate dreaming of a Koryusai painting. It’s about a love that is compassionate, that lives in open conversation, deep listening, the front lines of social movement and would never seek to stifle the light in you. It’s about accepting our aloneness, the impermanence of all things and still forever wanting to prove it wrong, to say that I understand that all things change, all things end, hurt exists, but I will love regardless.’
Babylon OST
Looking back to recent periods of strife in the UK, I’m drawn to the bleak Thatcher years which were the backdrop to my childhood. Whilst I was lucky to be protected from a lot of the issues of that time, the racism is something I remember all too clearly. Franco Rosso’s 1980 film Babylon is an unflinching look at the struggles of a young black man in South East London, battling against that racism to pursue his own musical endeavours. Partly based on Dennis Bovell’s false imprisonment for running the Sufferer’s HiFi soundsystem in the 70s, Bovell also composed much of the soundtrack, alongside cuts from Yabby-U, I-Roy and Aswad, whose founder Brinsley Forde appeared as the lead in the movie. Whilst the majority of the record is rooted in laid back dub and reggae, there is an unmistakeable defiance running through it. And if you really need lighting up, Aswad’s ‘Warrior Charge’ is pure rocket fuel.
Andrew Wasylyk - Fugitive Light And Themes Of Consolation
I discovered Andrew Wasylyk’s work a few years ago through a friend, and he’s gradually become one of my most listened-to artists. Until today I didn’t realise he is also the bass player in Idlewild, which was a very unexpected discovery. This record was released back in 2020, and was inspired by the landscape of Eastern Scotland - using the intersection of land and sea as a starting point for his spiritual jazz-influenced neo-classical compositions. In Wasylysk's own words, it's “simultaneously about knowing loss and accepting love, the optimistic and the downhearted, where the lightness and dark gather together.”
Rage Against The Machine - Rage Against The Machine
As a teenager in the 90s, this was a record that was impossible to ignore. It was, and still is an unfiltered shot of adrenaline to the brain. I remember reading a review of debut single ‘Killing In The Name’ which mentioned that indie-rock DJs were mixing it with RHCP’s ‘Give It Away’, which seems a bizarre juxtaposition given the relative philosophies behind those two bands. It does strike on something though: fans wouldn’t have flocked in their millions to listen to Zack de la Rocha’s anti-establishment diatribes if the music didn’t hit as hard as it did.
Pharoah Sanders - Pharoah
Originally released in 1977, this record became a bit of an under-appreciated gem in Sanders’ varied discography. There’s an elegance to Pharoah’s playing that is just beautiful to me, and the gentle undulations of Harvest Time have become an emotional reset for me since I picked up this reissue a couple of years back. Mark Richardson’s review for Pitchfork sums it up perfectly: ‘It captures a feeling of unearthly magic….the modest recording is perfect for the music, framing a peculiar mood and atmosphere that's lusty and joyous one moment and haunting and meditative the next’.
SAULT - Untitled (Rise)
In uncertain times it’s natural to go back to music made in equally difficult periods of history. ‘Rise’ is SAULT’s fourth album and was released just twelve weeks after their third. This was half a year into Covid, but more importantly mere months after George Floyd’s murder. Whilst its predecessor was laden with necessary grief and anger, ‘Rise’ feels like the deep breath before re-entering the battle. As well as containing more musical ideas than many artists would take on in a lifetime, it’s also filled with lyrical affirmation, none more so than on the brooding ‘Scary Times’ - ‘Don’t let them make you lose yourself.’ As relevant now as it ever was.
Yusef Lateef - Eastern Sounds
Another go-to record for me that whilst technically hard-bop also takes in elements of spiritual jazz and, as the title suggests, Middle Eastern composition. Yusef Lateef’s woozy flute, sax, oboe and xun playing has such a delicate texture to it that even the more straight ahead cuts have a meditative quality to them that lesser players would struggle to express. A true master.
Of course music isn’t the only artform that can help us in these times, and I wanted to share some writing by E. B. White from the excellent Letters Of Note that I’ve found to be inspirational, moving and wise.
Wind the clock….
