PC fascism in action, welcome to the world of big guns in the sand box, courtesy of Andrew Jackson, huckster Trump, and the Texas sniper.
The tonic of course (as ever) is the Beatles.... the only unit that I know of to transcend its boy band roots, majestically. Despite Ron Howard's gloss-over approach to nearly everything (all the interesting parts were left out of the Fab Four's ill-fated visit to the Philippines and nearly lethal snub of Imelda Marcos, for example) the visceral power of watching four musicians break through the bullshit and create was inspiring. Highlights included a snippet of John Lennon playing the opening part of Strawberry Fields Forever on some kind of melodica back in late 1964.
Roots of sounds go deep, man.
The Shea Stadium concert* and in fact most of the packed hysteria scenes made me tired after just a couple hours. Don't know how The Beatles put up with the madness for three solid years. The best song of that concert, and by that I mean the only moment when the live harmonies sent shivers down my spine was Baby's In Black. Right up there with my other early Beatles favorite Yes It Is.
Why the hiatus from the #endwriter project, some regular readers want to know? I am immersed in creating a Fabric album Chasing Sun. The songs are coming together in demo and field recording form as a cohesive whole and it is... taking me somewhere. Have just crossed the threshold where I see that a concept album is not only achievable but likely.
It will have personal and political aspects, hopefully I am eloquent enough to communicate the message broadly. It is not just me, a lot of people have been involved... hence the floating pick-up band name Fabric.
A nomadic group of the Gods, Chasing Sun.
And yes I am still polishing Arisugawa Park 1.29 - Uneventful Circuit.