February 2024

Hello again, bit of a delay in sending these out but then again nothing notable gig wise has been going on other than a tour I went on with A. Savage in February- I could have notified but I didn’t. In terms of shows there are a couple of gigs coming up (I started university again so I’ve had to try and reduce the amount I play). Mostly reading and writing at the moment, its nice.

I’ll be singing two Townes Van Zandt songs at the Moth Club on Saturday the 9th of March.

Then on the 13th of April I’m playing at Faveurs des Printemps festival in France near Marseille (if anyones in that region then come along or ask me for guest list) I’ll be doing both of these solo.

Gigs that you should go to-

Jessica Pratt and Joanna Sternberg at Union Chapel on the 6th of June

Kiran Leonard at the Moth Club on the 6th of May

Can’t think of any others at the moment- if you want to skip to the end I give more recommendations (listening, reading). For now here’s some short unrelated (to each other) paragraphs.

Sauna

Naked, some of us descended to the floor to escape the heat, moaning and breathing. As the man waved a towel that would throw my heart further into fury, another floor person pushed the water vase towards me, how hard was normal? I’ve been here before I would tell myself, I’ve been hotter than this but of course this didn’t calm my heart. It made me wonder if the brain actually has any control over the heart? It seems unfair that brain-panic should easily induce such a strong physical response from the organ but attempts at the opposite (to calm) are so difficult and make little difference. We have to simply pass through the storm. Joan Didion said something along the lines of; if we have to ‘survive’ the storm, this implies there is a possibility of not surviving, of being killed, or worse;

ruined.

I refused to be the only non-dane that leaves during this towel ritual (the aufguss), so I didn’t leave and reaped the benefits.

Control

There are many things I try to maintain. How much of a persons value is held in their ability to be organised and complete menial or banal tasks, quietly? To remember passports, to check in on time, to organise their rucksack or handbag, to look clean and keep their trousers straight etc. how much upkeep, how much time? And what is the value. I see much value in being organised and I am, although I don’t think I am. I feel overwhelming pride in my adult ability when certain things run smoothly, although this abundance of pride (and therefore surprise) only entrenches further the notion that I am not, in fact, capable. That I still feel too young to take care of any of this. Somehow, despite this, my adult body and mind step forward for the task and get it done. I will always relate with deep compassion to those who find this difficult, less so to those who find it easy and barely have to think twice (do you exist?). Maybe this has something to do with knowing depression, (maybe not) what a gift if so, the gift of meaning in (so called) banality. However, I only say this as it is in my very visceral disgust and rejection of banality that I attempt to apply meaning to it, otherwise I’d never get any of the boring stuff done, ever.

Make-up

I only recently learnt how many people wear cover-up products on their skin, both men and women but mostly women. I feel like I’ve missed a trick or been cheated in some way out of the youthful phase of my femininity. I have been measuring my complexion against liars, they should say that on adverts or people should wear little badges that state that this isn’t what they really look like. Despite an occasional allure to the make up section in duty free where I suddenly decide I will be a ‘real woman’ and put more effort / work into how I look, I will continue to let my skin breath and be a little paler and more tired looking than everyone else. As this uncomfortable ‘I want to be a real woman’ thought protrudes uninvited from the murky but overflowing depths of generational pain, it urges me to buy stupid stuff. I’ve already caved and bought a trench coat and some adidas shoes. I was chuffed! Until a week later as I sat outside Hoxton station, I calmly noted my descent into dressing (therefore looking) like everyone else. It happens; these things creep up, the desire to look cleaner, to manage things better, to have a home without loads of smelly people in it, to do exercise (mostly out of sheer emotional necessity not because I enjoy it), to make (at least some) money. With partial blindness we gently fall into these grooves that have been set out generation after generation. Not so different from repetitive thought loops that are difficult to clamber out of (as within, so without). No matter how many ideas we build around how our lives could be different or unique, some other unknown desire manoeuvres us into these situations. The vast chasm between what we want to do and what we actually do, always elludes me (I guess that’s a given). This brings us back to that idea of control; I often feel I have very little of it, but still I try and repeat and repent.

Hill

A hill as a stress manager, a hills sole purpose like a stress ball for the energetic.

Age

12 and 33 are Jesus ages. 26 is Buddha age and I have missed the opening.

Reading- I won’t do book reviews here but I do have a separate newsletter for this, contact me on my email [email protected] for the link to this one/ if you want to start a book club.

I just finished Joan Didion’s ‘A Year of Magical Thinking’  in two days (not boasting, I had a long plane journey), the first book of hers I’ve managed to get through. Reading this and simultaneously listening to Mount Eeries ‘Now Only’ album is quite a trip.

Before this, it took me around a month to read Olga Tocarkzuc’s ‘Flights’, recommended to me by a good friend. Although it took me a while I’m so happy I read it all the way through. Every time I opened it and read even just a little, it was full and rich and dense, perfect literature.

(I can’t remember if I’d already mentioned this one) ‘Lincolns Melancholy’ by Joshua Wolf Shenk (cool name). Great book.

Dove back into ‘Actual Air’ by David Berman for a bit too, why not.

Starting on Olga Tocarkzuc’s ‘Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead’ and ‘A Swim in a Pond in the Rain’ by George Saunders

I don’t think I’ve mentioned these before here but about a year ago I plummeted into Roberto Bolano’s world and would recommend these of his books (I haven’t tackled the giant ones yet) I’m putting them here in order of my preference.

‘Last Evenings on Earth’, ’The Savage Detectives’ (I have to admit I only read half, shame), ‘Distant Star’, ‘By Night in Chile’.

Listening to- I would happily go into detail on all of these records but for your sake I won’t, however, I would say if you have an inclination to listen to any of these then do start and prioritise the Rabbi Schlomo Carlebach record. His music has been in my life for a few years now, I re-listened some days ago and it hit me like a ton of bricks. If you take anything away with you from reading this newsletter all the way through then I hope its this album.

‘I See a Darkness’ by Bonnie Prince Billy (I started listening to this just after I read ‘Darkness Visible’ by William Styron, maybe a coincidence the names match)

’The Glow pt.2 disc two. Other Songs & Destroyed Versions’ by The Microphones

‘Rabbi Schlomo Carlebach Sings’ by Schlomo Carlebach

‘The Pilgrim, Their God and The King of My Decrepit Mountain’ by Tapir!

‘Hope’ EP by Palace Music 

‘Lost and Found’ by The Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players

‘Hannah’ by Lomelda

‘No Fixed Point in Space’ by Modern Nature 

‘I Inside the Old Year Dying’ by PJ Harvey

‘Several Songs About Fire’ by A. Savage

‘Kantikas Di Mi Nona (Songs of My Grandmother)’ by Flory Jagoda

Thanks for reading, any enquiries (or suggestions) send to the email I stated above, I check it every other day.

Naima x