An hour of roughly fifteen minute sections, broken apart by a ringing chime and about an hour and a half’s trudging journey (on a cool, clear day) around the north circular.
Songs about fathers and being a father. About Japanese musicians (inevitably) and psychedelic percussion. Mythological identities and unlikely spies.
“As you begin to realise that every different type of music, everybody’s individual music, has its own rhythm, life, language and heritage, you realise how life changes, and you learn how to be more open and adaptive to what is around us.”
Fifteen odd years of passing music to each other on shiny plastic discs of varying sizes, spooling cassettes and digital digits have led to a relatively solid understanding of each others tastes. You might like some of the things we tend to dig out for each other to enjoy to so we thought we’d share.