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
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?”
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.
Let’s talk about squad depth. Let’s talk about spending £200M to improve the squad over the summer, and still finding yourself travelling out to Austria with six kids on the bench.
Whoops.
I know there’s a bit more going on behind the scenes - plus injuries which we didn’t suffer from last season - but still.
Having said that, it was a reasonably strong starting eleven, showing that if needed, we can still put out a half decent team.
5:45pm KO’s are WEIRD. I was hungry and thirsty, but this was no time to eat or BOOZE. The game - the dodgy modern interweb stream - needed by full attention.
I liked the Graz all black kits. With Forest playing in the off colour white, this game had the look of a game of chess.
It wasn’t really played out that way though.
Forest clearly wanted the checkmate within the first fifteen minutes. It was a very strong start, but with no obvious openings.
It still feels odd to be starting an away game in Europe as favourites. I use to get the heebeegeebees for Blackburn away not too long ago.
D***y who?
Kalimuendo looked strong. The end product might have been missing tonight, but he does give us other options compared to Wood, Jesus and Taiwo.
I was longing for a Yates goal on the European stage. He seems to have put the Swansea shitshow behind him.
Never write the Forest Captain off. I make that seven consecutive Head Coaches who have all felt the same.
Number one is Ryan Yates, Number two is Ryan Yates…
The Gaffer looked proud to be wearing the Forest badge on the touchline in Europe. Even with our BONKERS start to the season, not many managers in the history of the club can get to feel this way.
John looked dodgy in goal. It was an experiment that we just about got away with. Premier League strikers won’t be as forgiving as the Graz forward line.
Neco was unplayable. I’m going early and calling him Player of the Season.
MGW meanwhile should be nowhere near the next England squad. That’s harsh, but he looks like he needs some headspace. It was a poor, poor pen.
And yep - Yates was deffo fowled for the follow up.
The second half was all a little meh. Forest had run out of ideas, and Graz wanted to play for the point.
Dominguez was lively, and deserves a PL start; possibly McAtee as well if he’s not injured after tonight. I’m not sure where you would slot him into the PL starting eleven though.
The game drifted for the final thirty minutes or so. As ever, subs for both teams got in the way and clogged up the flow of the game.
It was an incredibly frustrating watch. My highlight of the half was when the cameras zoomed on the Generation Chaos banner in the home end. It looked cool as fuck with the custom Crass font.
And so a point away from home in Europe. BC would have taken that. The PL is more pressing.
DIRTY, DIRTY Leeds, etc.
I felt the Forest fans. It’s long way to travel away from home, and not to see any goals.
A quick look at some of the other Europa League scores, and OH MY DAYS.
Bloody Midget Land.
If we are to progress in the knock out phase of this competition, then I fear that we will have to face them once again.
Over at Vauxhall, where the tranquility of the Thames was disturbed by an annoyingly LOUD tannoy man on a tourist boat. Don’t believe a word they say. You’d get more accuracy out of ChatGPT.
A little business in town, and then back down again, crossing at Lambeth. For shit ‘n’ giggles, etc.
Lambeth Bridge has been a bloody pain for a few months now. The resurfacing and new layout works still seem a long way off. Nice cycle path, mind.
SHOUT OUT to the old school punk sitting out side the Socialist Party of GB HQ as I ran along Clap’ham High Street this morning.
If it wasn’t for me pounding the mean streets of SW4, I probably would have stopped by for a chat.
The fella was rocking the Punk’s Not Dead look. He wouldn’t have looked out of place on an Exploited album cover from 1984.
Some form of staff was in place. My eyes lit up at first when I thought he was flogging on old punk CD’s.
The return leg of the route concluded that it was Socialist pamphlets.
The revolution will be involve cheap cider, etc.
He stood out like a punk on a postcard along Clap’ham High Street. Even with the Bright Young Things of SW4 back at work, passing through Clap’ham is like landing in another Universe these days.
I pressed on with the run, back down to earth and back down to Sunny Stockwell. I took in the lovely Larkhall Park detour.
The Tree Men were in place, chatting shit etc, buried away amongst the bushes.
It’s a very localised sight, and even then, one that you might miss and you run or walk past.
The Tree Men are a group of elderly fellas who take cover in some of the bushes around the Wandsworth Road end of the park. They turn the daily gathering into quite an event, with picnic stools and music.
The picnic of choice appears to be BOOZE and strong weed.
But they’re harmless.
Like the Punk’s Not Dead dude of SW4, the Tree Men of lovely Larkhall are a reminder that South London 2025 is not all about luxury apartments and hot yoga.
Life carries on behind the fringes, often in pretty bleak circumstances. That doesn’t make it any less worthy.
