Seasons & Transitions | 4/11/19

Beginnings and endings are the most difficult parts for writers to complete; this is something I heard on the BBC documentary on Philip Pullman last night, and it's certainly something I agree with. Whenever I'm not sure how to open on a post, I always find myself naturally talking about the weather or time of year; classic British behaviour. On further analysis, there's a wonderful irony to my go-to subject to start on not having a beginning of its own. The seasons follow one another in an endless cycle, and as we've been going through one of these transitions recently I've been thinking about the topic more and how much it actually does affect how we experience music. This is hardly a groundbreaking realisation, and composers have represented the differences of the yearly cycle from Vivaldi's 'Four Seasons' and beyond. The core focuses for the industry now are based on summer and Christmas, critical points commercially as these are times of celebration, but each period has its own subtle intricacies that affect how we interpret sound. 

To start with the current time, Autumn brings with it a breath of cool, refreshing air that finally lets you breathe outside the club. The colour scape around you is undeniably beautiful, and for me I crave a warm homeliness from music. In some ways, the experience becomes more frequently internal, accompanying deep thoughts on moonlit bus journeys. Winter is the peak of the cold, dark and rain (in London at least). In all honesty, it's pitch black outside for the majority of the day, and it's impossible for this to not influence what you listen to. When it comes to Christmas, the word that comes to mind to sum it up is merriment. It's creating festivity to distract from the bleak landscape; there's no compliment in it, and so I find it's a season of duality, of either embracing the resplendent melancholy and the emotive details that come with it, or ignoring it altogether. As 'All I Want for Christmas is You' blasts across speakers yet again, the dark and gritty sombreness of Daphni's 'Tin' is just as much a winter tune to me.

Spring represents new life, rebirth, crisp mornings (and, obviously, my birthday). While it's not yet necessarily full on elation, it's tenderly hopeful, and I seek this same light in what I'm listening to also. It's the time of year I look for new music the most, preparing myself with a new batch of summer bangers. Then, of course, summer comes in, with the longest days, the best sunsets, the most dancing, festivals, parks and speakers, holidays, I could go on. I can't help being drawn to upbeat rhythms and anything that reminds me of the sun. Songs get repeated too much, as you cement tracks in as the representations of all the memories you've made. 

This is the general cycle that gets followed year on year, but the deeper subtext of the seasons is transition. As the cliché goes, change is important. If everything stays the same, it can be difficult to move past thing that can be holding us back. As the world around us changes in form and feel, the music we listen to alters too and we use that to transform ourselves. I think anyone can think back to an album they listened to over and over as they got through a break up, or a new artist that symbolised the beginning of uni or the end of a job. I'm grateful that four times a year there's an opportunity for reinvention, and that one's soundscape can constantly evolve to adapt to its surroundings. 

As such, for the playlist this week I've focused around Autumn vibes or songs that remind me of changes in time - you can listen here. Four Tet released a new EP under his alias '⣎⡇ꉺლ༽இ•̛)ྀ◞ ༎ຶ ༽ৣৢ؞ৢ؞ؖ ꉺლ' which I've included, and last weekend was also his curate of Manchester's Warehouse Project, with an unbelievable line up and many instagram stories that have made me very jealous. As such, I also included his remix of Eric Prydz' 'Opus', a ten minute masterpiece that seemed like one of the highlights from my mobile phone perspective. Enjoy Autumn! Let's be honest, the pretty colours last for a good two weeks at best, so make the most of it. xx