illustration: hannah mccreath
In our early spring issue, we’re spreading the love and we’ve made a playlist to match. Our Embrace-themed playlist is filled with songs about coming together, staying together, standing together…
Wrap your ears – and your arms – around it here.
Illustration: molly egan
No matter where you are, whatever the weather, there are certain sights, smells and sounds that always conjure up those summers that seemed to last forever. This playlist celebrates those songs that pull you back through the past. It’s the soundtrack to staying out in the park till sundown, sitting out chatting with your friend into the early hours, perhaps a gentle doze in the sunshine. While the heat of summer may be beginning to die down, they’re the kind of memories that last forever.
Illustration: Fern Choonet
How much of our identity was forged in our teenage bedrooms, leaping around and singing along to music turned up way too loud? Music remains a way of escaping the humdrum of everyday life, a way of helping us out figure out who we are and who we want to be.
From angry punks to disco divas, our Identity playlist celebrates the musicians and pop stars who refuse to conform, and who encourage us to do the same. Take a listen here – we hope that by its end you’ll join us in shouting out, as instructed by Gloria Gaynor, “I am what I am”.
Photo: Dustin Condren
Lucy Dacus is a performer of substance. Her lyrics are heady with the heat and rage of teenage diaries and her live performances are whirlwinds of guitars and bittersweet words of loss, love and the day-to-day dramas of life. She’s touring the UK with her second album Historian, a lush follow up to her debut Nonbeliever. Check her out in Bristol, London and Brighton this week.
How would you compare your two albums? The first one feels like a specific time and place. I remember singing on those songs – and I'd never heard myself singing to a band before. So, what you hear is also the first time I hear myself sing to drums. We did it in, like, a day. So I had no adjustment, that was my first recording experience. It was very fresh and I guess people have responded to that. Thing is, since the writing process is so elusive to me, I can’t really pin down how it happens. Everything past that first moment of writing lyrics is intentional. Once I’ve realised the message, I can see where it came from and what it will be, but in the moment I can’t really see what it is. I like the shift of this album though, they’re kind of like, the heavier, louder songs. So just pushing people to expect something a little bit different, less sweet from me especially live shows.
Do you enjoy touring? I love touring! I love being there in the moment, the only thing I don’t love is what isn’t there – my friends and family, and my house. But love that I get to read more than when I’m home. Because when I’m home, it’s all about connecting with those people and catching up. And trying to make up for lost time and all of the disconnects that inevitably happen. But touring is one of the best parts of the job. I don’t drive, but I like the act of travelling, I like seeing new places. In fact, in Europe it's even better because it feels new, and much shorter distances. I love touring Europe because every night is a different language whereas in the US, some cities look really similar. I know I am gonna be on the road from noon to 4pm between these cities in like two months and who knows what I'm gonna do during those hours. I can fill it with the reading and no one's going to require anything from me during that time and it's built in alone time.
We’re also avid readers, what’s your current pick? Well right now I’m reading Susan Sontag’s, Regarding The Pain of Others. She’s great, I’ll read literally anything she’s written. I bought it yesterday at this place called Broadway Books. It’s so great, I bought five books. Why is it that British editions of books are better looking than the US editions? Why do you guys just have better taste? But I think what has influenced me a lot when writing this album is Anna Karenina, it has these two character who are grappling with life and death. I love characters, poetry and watching movies, these things all help me. I think external things help you to each inside.
What kind of child were you? Very dreamy. I was kind of too creative for my own good. My parents had a rule when I was young, that I could never say that I was bored. They taught me that the word bored was like a curse word. Like the equivalent to legitimate curse words so I had to find ways to not be bored because I would be punished by having to draw. They’d be like; "you can’t be bored, sit in the corner and draw your favourite animal." Which is hilarious punishment within itself. And I still feel that I don’t get bored, ever.
How do you feel about giving a lot of yourself? You’re writing about you, your life and real relationships. When I'm writing, I'm not giving myself to somebody else I’m just giving it. What I'm saying is what I am saying to myself. And that is step one, is to give yourself to yourself. That’s the most important thing and beyond that, sharing it is separate. I think it was more of a pull from the community that I grew up in. Asking me to play shows. I had friends in bands who just wanted to hear it. It actually took people telling me, like ‘you should do this, I want to hear it.’ And that’s why I think children’s programmes are so important like creative programmes that say; ‘what you make matters’.
What advice would you give to young women who want to be sitting in your seat right now? I don’t want to say anything too cheesy but don’t get caught fulfilling other people's dreams. I've had to learn recently that a lot of people want to do music and a lot of people want to be in the limelight and just want an audience and think they know what that looks like and what that feels like. Your journey is different to anyone else’s and also if it's your work, it's your work. Don’t be bugged down by industry people or your own band. Especially men, but people in general: don’t let people live out their wildest wet dream of being a rockstar on your belt. I've dealt with that a couple times over now. I’ve had conversations with people asking what going on or asking for change and then if people can’t break out of their expectations then you can’t carry that weight around and I can’t so specifically if I’m talking to ladies, that’s my advice.
Give Lucy a follow on Instagram, @lucydacus.
Who needs coffee when you can plug into our latest playlist? It's inspired by morning rituals, full of the tracks that help us get up and go (although coffee is useful for that too...). Take a listen here.
illustration: stephanie handley
Our midwinter issue is inspired by patterns. You can pre-order a copy here.
words: jess morgan
photo: katie silvester
The best thing about the CD player was the punching in and skipping straight to the best songs without all the clumsy rewinding and tape-turning to cue up. The clever machine knew exactly where to find it. Our silver separates hi-fi had glossy dials for the volume which twisted silently and weightlessly and were always cold to the touch. The horizontal sliver in the tuner was gently backlit. A red needle would slide back and across the number line with the turn of another beautiful dial. Dad still talks about those dials.
That morning, I made a plan to get up early. I was going to get my Cher album from where it was in the rack, press the first clicky button and watch as the faithful little motor offered up a wobbly looking tray from the front of the unit. Nose to nose with the grid of numbered buttons, I’d punch in track eight and just listen to it.
The lights were still off in the living room, curtains still drawn, no scuffs of footsteps from the floor above and no bedside radio. I wanted to go straight for track eight – every word, every bass thump and every scrunch of the straggling guitar solo. It’d always feel like an exercise in restraint when there were people around – a fight to hold the corners of my mouth steady. I was up and dressed now though, secretly supercharged with all those complicated little electrons ricocheting against each other, while everyone else was asleep.
The sound wasn’t coming out. Anxious little fingers started pressing eight and hitting play, on, off, carefully inviting another increment of volume with the cool dials. Eight... eight... eight... eight, but still nothing came. Nothing. For an age, nothing. Then, the percussive clack of a dozen curtain rings smacking together as light burst into the room. Dad, surprised to see me up and dressed so early, wandered curiously over. It was lucky he’d not been a minute or so earlier and seen me pummelling the buttons with an eight year old’s untamed frustration.
“It’s a bit early," Dad said.
He reached to the back under the tuner and pulled out a set of headphones. They weren’t like the flimsy ones we had for our Walkmans that we’d always get our hair caught in. These ones were heavy and felt as if they’d slide off at any minute without a careful balancing act to keep them in place. The ear pads covered my ears entirely and Dad adjusted the headband from the sides, making them as small as they would go though they’d never get quite small enough. They came with a string cable attached that was ruffled with wear and soft. At the very end, there was a quarter inch jack – the kind reserved for something more serious than our homemade radio shows.
Dad plugged the headphones into the amp, put the volume down low and flicked the one switch that I’d omitted to find in the grand plan. The opening bars to track one blared out of the cans. I returned Dad’s thumbs up and let it play. Piano keys pounding, a string section rising and crunching electric guitar signalled, as with many plays before, the unfolding of my favourite record and same mission to appear aloof – between euphoria and bewildering self-consciousness. It’s tight grip, and the precarious positioning of the headphones seemed to keep me from skipping forward or dialling in that later part of the record that I so wanted to hear.
As soon as Dad was gone with the tray of tea and toast, I slid the smooth fake leather ear-pads backwards off my ears. The sound of the radio had kicked in upstairs – footsteps and running water would soon follow. I put the headphones back where they had been and returned the CD back to its plastic case and its space in the rack. I never tried that again.
Twenty-two years on, I still play that album – on the same system of separates that was handed down to me – speakers, cables and the units with all of those complicated buttons. Track one still gives me the jitters but I rarely make it as far as track eight. When Dad comes round, we enthuse over those dials. They still twist and turn as silkily as ever, even though I keep the volume low, in a terraced house with its walls as thin as Bible paper. I can stand there any day, in front of the display, heart beating, burning up with the memories of growing up with so much music in our house. Somehow the metal always stays so cool.
Jess Morgan is a singer-songwriter living in Norwich. Her first love will always be Cher in the film Moonstruck. Listen to ‘Come To The Opera With Me, Loretta’ and follow Jess on instagram.
Anna Meredith, who plays the Simple Things festival this week. Portrait: Lauren Maccabee for issue 33.
Another week, another opportunity to throw yourself into our cultural picks. From photography to film, music to MADE, there's masses on this week - the problem will probably be deciding where to start! Do let us know what you get up to, and if there is anything you think we really should be checking out ourselves...
Art
Unveil’d Photography @ various venues, Exeter (20 to 23 October)
Helen Marten: Drunk Brown House @ Serpentine, London (until 20 November)
Quentin Blake: Inside Stories @ National Museum Cardiff (until 20 November 2016)
Film
Cambridge Film Festival @ various venues, Cambridge (20 to 27 October)
Aberdeen Film Festival @ various venues, Aberdeen (17 to 26 October)
Music
James Vincent McMorrow @ The Roundhouse, London (17 October)
The Duke Spirit @ Manchester, Nottingham, Bristol, London (17, 18, 19 & 20 October). Read our interview with Leila Moss in Oh Comely issue 31.
The Simple Things festival @ various venues, Bristol (22 and 23 October), featuring issue 33 interviewee Anna Meredith
Slow Club @ Brighton, Bath, Leicester (20, 21, 22 October)
Theatre & Comedy
Lost in the Stars @ Union Chapel, London (17 to 19 October)
Bridget Christie: Because you demanded it @ Leicester Square Theatre, London (19 & 20 October)
Cathy Come Home @ Bristol, Southend, Luton (21, 22, 24 and 27 October)
Books
Undiscovered Islands @ Stanfords, London (19 October)
New Writing @ Foyles, Charing Cross Road, London (24 October)
Events
Bloomsbury Festival @ Bloomsbury, London (19 to 23 Oct)
MADE London Marylebone @ One Marylebone, London (20 to 23 October)
How To Hygge Festival @ The London EDITION, London (22 and 23 October)
Battle of Ideas 2016 @ Barbican, London (22 & 23 October)
Show us where you've been and tell us what we should include in next week's round-up via our Twitter or Instagram.
Photo: Irene Baqué
In issue 33 we say a sad farewell to the wonderful Linnea Enstrom, who has left Oh Comely to start a creative writing course in Sweden. We're delighted to introduce you to Marta Bausells, who will be taking on the role of music editor. To get to know her a bit better, we sat her down for a little chat...
Hello Marta! Tell us a bit about yourself and your work.
I'm a freelance writer, editor and curator. I was born and raised in Barcelona. I started out by writing about music and culture at the same time as I studied politics. At the time, I thought they were two separate things and that I'd have to choose, but I later realised that culture is intrinsically linked to society, politics and social action. I then worked for a newspaper there, where I was lucky to report on all sorts of topics – social issues, environment, foreign news – before I moved to London four years ago.
I love that my work has allowed me to learn and explore all sorts of subjects and ideas. I always wanted to go back to writing about culture, though, and I eventually landed a job on the Guardian’s books desk, where I hosted discussions about books, created a series about books set in American cities, chatted to book-lovers around the world daily, and discovered the wonders of the literary internet. Currently, I’m really enjoying working with Literary Hub on covering books from this side of the Atlantic.
I also do lots of other little things, like a collaboration with Subway Book Review (check it out!), which means I stop book-carrying strangers on the tube and chat to them about what they’re reading! It’s magical. No matter the subject, what I love the most about my job is that I get to meet fascinating people and share their stories. I can't wait to go back to writing about music!
What was the first single you bought?
The Spice Girls' 'Wannabe'!* It caught me at the exact target age, and everyone at my school was crazy about them for a year.
*If by bought you mean copied on a cassette tape and passed on among friends countless times (oops). But I'm sure I ended up buying it too!
What was the last gig you went to?
Well, this is a bit random – but it’s the truth! It was this Catalan guy called Ferran Palau. I had gone back to Barcelona for a few days, it was the end of the summer and it was starting to drizzle (that sticky, humid end-of-summer Mediterranean rain). One neighbourhood was celebrating its yearly festivities, which means the streets are beautifully decorated by neighbours and there are gigs in almost every little square. I had just discovered this guy’s music a few hours earlier in the car, with friends – and there he was. One of those serendipitous musical moments.
What song will always get you up and dancing?
Anything by Queen. I have a special weakness for 'Don’t Stop Me Now'.
Vinyl, CD or download?
The day I actually have space in the house and money to buy many of them, I’ll go back to vinyls – which is how I grew up listening to music. In the meantime, I’m a Spotify and downloads gal.
Who, dead or alive, would you most like to interview?
Frida Kahlo. I visited her house last year in Mexico and I was like “can I just move in here now?”. I would love to have been around her energy when she was alive, even if for five minutes. I am so inspired by how, despite being in horrific and crippling pain, she got up every morning, kicked ass and made the most amazing art – and lived her life in her own terms.
And if I might cheat and add a couple from the realm of the alive, right now my musical dream interviewee would be Solange – what a queen! I’d love to interview Michelle Obama once she leaves the Oval Office and gets to talk more freely. And Tom Hanks, always.
Outside of music, what else do you like to do?
Like I said, I love reading. My bedroom is ridiculously full of 'to-be-read piles' – it’s almost like I live around these book towers, and not the other way around. I also love film – I ran a film club with a friend for a while – good television and storytelling podcasts. I used to feel stressed-out or guilty about how little time there is to follow everything, but now I don’t mind being behind on TV shows or anything else. There’s this growing backlog of great culture waiting for me when I get home! What’s not to love?
Let us know a secret...
I don’t like chocolate… (!)
Find out more about Marta on her website, or follow her on Twitter.
Georgia O’Keeffe, Abstraction White Rose, 1927.
Oil on canvas, 36 x 30 (91.4 x 76.2). Georgia O'Keeffe Museum. Gift of TheBurnett Foundation and Georgia O’Keeffe Foundation ©Georgia O'Keeffe Museum
The nights are getting longer and the days cooler so even more good reason to throw yourself into all things cultural. To inspire you, here are our pick of events happening this week, ranging across art, film, music and books. One strong piece of advice, if you can get yourself to London - don't forget to visit the Georgia O'Keeffe exhibition before it closes at the end of the month - as the curator told us in issue 30, it's a once in a generation chance to see the artist's work in Britain. Enjoy!
Art
Georgia O’Keeffe @ Tate Modern, London (Until 30 October). Read our interview with the exhibition's curator in issue 30.
Jeff Koons @ Newport Street Gallery, London (until 16 October)
Lie of the Land @ Gallery 40, Brighton (until 22 October)
Girl Town @ St Margaret’s House, Bethnal Green, London (until 1 November)
Music
Wild Beasts @ The Junction, Cambridge (10 October)
Sussex Songfest @ Snape Maltings (15 October), featuring issue 33 interviewee Anna Meredith.
Hackney Wonderland @ various venues, Hackney, London (15 & 16 October)
Mystery Jets @ Coventry, Cambridge, Bath, London (11 to 15 October)
Film
London Film Festival @ various venues, London (until 16 October). Our associate editor, Jason, recommends:
The Greasy Strangler @ general release (requires a strong stomach!)
Books
London Literature Festival @ Southbank Centre, London (until 16 October)
Birmingham Literature Festival @ various venues, Birmingham (until 16 October)
Waterstones presents Vivienne Westwood @ St James’ Church, Piccadilly, London (14 October)
Workshops
Plant Life Drawing @ Ace Hotel, Shoreditch, London (11 October)
Wool weaving workshop @ Wool BnB, De Beauvoir Town, London (12 October)
Show us where you've been and tell us what we should include in next week's round-up via our Twitter or Instagram.
Jinnwoo, featured on this issue's playlist, created this exclusive illustration for us. Read the story of how he sees his music before it's written in issue 33, out on 13 October 2016.
Sounds seem louder, more eerie, in the dark. The crackling footsteps against a dirt track, a rustle in the leaves. Lullabies. Creaking doors. But darkness brings out the stars too. Milky pools of moonlight filtered through a forest.
The songs chosen for this playlist have grown out of darkly magical places. Like watching Buffy The Vampire Slayer with your friends, hoping to get a glimpse of Spike. Jimi Hendrix’s ‘Voodoo Child’ hasn’t earned the epithet “supernatural brag song” for no reason, whereas the beautifully creepy ‘Willow’s Song’ from The Wickerman stirs images of cult-like disappearances, orgies and fire. ‘Silent Shout’ by electro duo The Knife is simply what darkness would sound like if it had a sound. Bassy and brooding.
So get your freak on with our issue 33 playlist and plug into Spotify here.