onionbagblog

A return to Brockwell ParkRun for the second consecutive week. I could make a habit out of this.

Although perhaps not, given my current life plans.

Once again I was reminded that I use to spend my Saturday mornings plodding around Brockwell Park, some THIRTY years ago.

Blimey.

Never change, Jase. Never change.

Having been boxed in at the start last week, I made sure that I was at the front of the pack for the start. I legged it down the first hill, and then waited for the inevitable overtaking.

I’m now familiar with the new-ish Brockwell route. I was able to pace myself. I thought I was on for a strong time.

The dive bombing parakeets caused a little concern for me for the uphill sprint finish. I pushed on.

My final time was one second faster than last week. I was fourth in my age cat once again.

#smallwins, etc.

The official result also told me that this was my fastest ParkRun time this year.

This may - or may not - be my final Brockwell ParkRun. I checked my time when I first ran the race that’s not a race over a decade ago. My timing today is up on that original run.

Like a fine wine, etc.

Chin chin.

Cycling from the town centre, and through the Frontline. A few random snaps as I pondered how early or late I was for ParkRun. I never can tell.

The Dogstar is a sad story. It’s gone from being London’t first Mega DJ Boozer to boarded up. I hear that the building work required to reopen it is putting businesses off.

Cheese London always makes me smile.

Brixton misses Sam the Wheels. I hope his own personal parklet [URGH] survives.

Chapeau!

The left can beat Reform if it embraces class conflict

Don’t compromise - FIGHT!

We reached 1,001 albums on the 1,001 albums generator on Friday morning.

Blimey.

What next?

For the record, Friday’s serving was Little Richard’s Here’s Little Richard. It was a fitting finish; I awarded it five stars for the sheer rawness, energy, and, yep, sex.

Not all albums on this extensive list have had rawness, energy and sex. I struggled somewhat to find these admirable traits in some of the shitty hair metal albums that were deemed worthy to grace the list.

R and I started the daily ritual around two and a half years ago. The 1,001 album generator site is modelled on the book 1,001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die.

This online exercise has worked superbly as part of a group. We are both delivered the same album each day. A review is then added.

I broadly know R’s musical tastes. I thought I knew mine. One of the pleasures of this project has been to compare his short and insightful listening notes with my scribblings.

The 1,001 site provides a detailed breakdown of our shared group interests. We’ve very conservative in providing an average rating of 2.52 out of 5.

Like I said - there has been an awful lot of hair metal shit to sit through.

Our favourite decade is 1980. No surprises there.

Rock ‘n’ Roll, Reggae and post-punk come out as our most popular shared genres.

We showed little love for metal, hard rock and, erm, samba,

As a snapshot, our highest rated albums included offerings by Sam Cooke, Al Green, Curtis Mayfield, Specials, The Clash, The Beatles, Portishead, De La Soul, Malcom McLaren, Soft Cell, Muddy Waters, The Undertones, ABC, Ginger Baker, The Human League, Otis Redding, David Bowie, Fela Kuti, Velvet Underground, Dexy’s, Wire, Aretha, Run DMC, Massive Attack, Pixies, Johnny Cash, Lou Reed, The Fall, Public Enemy and Pulp.

Quite a playlist.

Yeah, it’s all a bit muso noodling, but in an age of streaming slop, it’s also been a fantastic exercise to open up new artists that I wouldn’t have explored before.

I’ve added around two hundred and fifty CD’s to my collection as a direct consequence of the list.

The past two and a half years have flown by. I’ve made the daily listening as part of my online routine each morning.

And so what next?

Similar online daily recommendation sites are available. I think we’ll give them a try.

I’d highly recommend the original 1,001 albums list for anyone that feels they are treading water and is open to new ideas.

Another ‘almost missed this one’ snap. Judging by the lack of a sun setting, I’ll let you make your own mind up.

I did have plans to go out late in the afternoon. The BBC weather forecast argued against me. I’m pleased that I took the advice.

This hit and miss snap has S Ldn rain swirling around. WET rain.

And yes - there is a difference.

What the chuff am I doing in the epicentre of the Mayfair high art world, knocking on a majestic front door, asking to enter a gallery?

Erm…

And so I made my way over to Woodbury House on a recommendation to see the Lee Quiñones exhibition.

You might know Lee from his work and starring role in the Wild Style film back in 1982.

I can recall watching in at the old Odeon back in Nottingham, hanging on to every last detail of the emerging hip hop scene, and seeing how I could transfer this to my own teenage stylings.

I still have no regrets about wearing the ski goggles for a Wear Your Own Clothes day at school.

And that really should have been it for Lee and I. Hip hop burnt out for me when I stopped breakin'. I confess that I haven’t followed his career since.

KNOCK KNOCK.

“Can I help you?”

Erm, I’ve come to view the gallery.

“Are you a collector?”

I hesitated in saying YES! I specialise in cheapo Ebay CD’s and knock off Forest kits.

I somehow managed to blag myself into Woodbury House. Actually, it wasn’t that difficult.

The host was an absolute charmer. She knew her art, and genuinely seemed interested in to what had led me over to Mayfair.

There was little misunderstanding as I tried to explain that it was a Big Issue article sent over to me by Wifey.

The host mentioned that Wifey had been in the gallery only last week. I explained that this most definitely wasn’t the case, unless the gallery was hosting a chepo golf clothes sale.

I was given a brief introduction to the work of Lee, starting with Wild Style. This was, until now, my start and end point.

I was given the freedom of the gallery to explore, with no other viewers - or collectors - around.

This is something of a back to front exhibition. You enter the gallery with Lee’s more contemporary work, and then make your way over to Wild Style at the back of the space.

You can see how his work has progressed over the years, taking in various cultural reference points for each period, and then adding his own interpretation.

The overall message of the exhibition title - Outside is America - runs throughout. The work documents an outsider view of the States, and in particular, one viewed through the prism of race.

Sadly it’s a theme that has given him plenty of scope over the decades.

The only thing missing from the exhibition is some form of soundtrack. But then that might have been a little annoying with the same tracks played over again on loop.

Woodbury House is a most welcoming space. The work of Lee Quiñones was worth making the trip over to Mayfair to view.

I might even start collecting, if I can find the spare £25k or so floating around down the back of the settee.

Racism ‘baked into the institutional design’ of Metropolitan Police, review finds

No shit, Constable.

The Green surge is about to break Labour

GOOD.

The Game at the Centre of the UK’s Culture War

“It’s ticking the climate box. But did anyone ask for this?” Furious drivers slam “waste of money” £22.5m cycle lane plans and claim they’re being “mugged off” by council

This is what we’re up against.

“As Nuno toils at West Ham and Forest contemplate a relegation fight, do he and Evangelos Marinakis secretly wish they could have settled their differences?”

No shit.

It’s not just the opening seconds of Tutti Frutti that make you smile - it’s the opening few tenths of a second.

BOOM!

You’re straight in, knowing that there’s quite a ride ahead.

It’s almost impossible to shock and surprise musically these days. Everything seems to have been exhausted. There’s no more boundaries to push.

It’s quite remarkable that an album from 1957 can still give you a whack round the head and leave you with optimism.

This is just bloody great from start to finish. There’s no concealed cleverness, no nod and wink here and there. Just a FULL ON assault as it confronts you with the rhythm and energy.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

To Lion Vibes on Thursday evening. For Selecter [erm] Thursday!

If it’s the first Thursday of the month, then it must mean that the Brixton Village space has another open deck session. It’s for anyone who wants their fifteen minutes of reggae love and appreciation.

The basic premise is that you book in a slot ahead of the session, and are then allocated fifteen minutes to play some of your fave tunes.

There’s no rules about which reggae style is acceptable. This is not a muso noodling session for people who really should listen to music alone at home.

It’s almost impossible not to SMILE when pretty much any reggae genre is blasted out of the Lion Vibes PA in a small space of appreciative people.

I made my way down Stockwell Road. Pendulum were playing at The Academy.

Oh - interesting, I thought. I paused for a few seconds and thought of cutting a deal with a tout.

Magnificent though Pendulum are, I would much rather prefer an intimate music experience up close.

Selecter Thursday it is then.

The room was already rammed when I arrived. I lurked a little outside the front of the shop for a few tracks, waiting for others to leave and free up some space.

Even outside I could feel the bass trembling me from foot to toe. I’ll have a bit of that - especially on a school night.

Soon I was inside. The Sisters of Reggae were on the decks. Rocksteady got the crowd dancing.

A change of Selecter and soon we were deep into roots territory. Smiles were everywhere in this most informal and accepting of environments. Love only please, YEAH.

Shout out to Ben and all at Lion Vibes who also organised a collection on the night for the Caribbean Disaster Appeal. People were generous in donating on what is an otherwise free night.

It’s quite a leap in trust to open up your shop once a month and allow a customer takeover. It’s helped to build Lion Vibes into something much more than a record shop in Brixton.

The space has become a focal point for an ever shifting reggae community in Brixton. And it’s not just old school, either. Mixing with some familiar faces was a largely young crowd.

It reminds me a lot of my own youth club days - not so much in terms of the style of music, but more about the desire to simply have fun through music with others.

Selecter Thursday has become the best Thursday night out in Brixton.

It’s been an incredibly mild day around these SW8 parts. T-shirts were the wardrobe choice for many - which is BONKERS, the day after Bonfire Night.

I was hoping for something of a killer Sunny Stockwell sunset. 6/10.

Must try harder.