ChooseDay warble;

What a week. Young power (again) shaking evil establishment’s elite empire with resistance to cynical downgrading. Also, youth’s ongoing philanthropy – see Stormzy, Marcus Rashford, John Boyega and other possible stop-and-search-if-not-famous folks.

Music is Nature’s communication from the original tweets – bird song – to the breeze in the trees and the sigh of the seas. Humans sing and dance. Life pulses.

Communicating: ‘Even In Exile’ album by James Dean Bradfield with Patrick Jones, has exemplary musicality blessed with a statue-topple of lyrics. By that, I mean that many more people know of Chilean Folk Hero (in every literal sense) Victor Jara in the same way that the national history syllabus got a boost about slave owning tory MP, Coulston from #BlackLivesMatter

“…Love of justice as the instrument that provides equilibrium for human dignity…” (Victor Jara)

Word Wizard, Patrick Jones, is no stranger in our story. He is the original reason TheZineUK’s little doc of grassroots rock n roll movement exists. I met the intergalactic teen, Dizzy Spell (now our Editor) at a show he played for Rockands (now Events Department) in Central London. Poetry fans can see the world in parallel dimensions of space and time – like drugless drugging.

Later, as we became friends, Dizzy and I found out we were Manics fans, too. It’s a THING that weaves seamlessly through some of our crew and our tales.

Sincere good soul, James Dean Bradfield had came out in support of Patrick at that show and was in the audience at The 229. Was that really a decade ago? (It’s also where TheZineUK’s short lived gigging adventures began this year.

If somebody asked “where do you see yourself in ten years time?”, then, we’d have got the answers wrong. So let’s keep trying to put things right. Aural uplifts help. ‘La Partida‘ could soundtrack the protests for a fairer and kinder world that never seems to end, but never fails to inspire. Hope is un-dimmed with music as an energy source.

Crapitalism’s fascist coup-as-comic-horror is a farce that rich arseholes (farce-holes?) have waged against the many, for too long. It doesn’t occur to propaganda pushers that most humans are basically still humane. How would they nurture their newborns, tend their gardens, hug their pets or treasure their friends, otherwise? Lovers gonna LOVE.

‘Allegedly’ – The Movie.

The Plot: Once Upon Another Time, ameriKKKa revealed ShitlerTrump’s gestapo to prove that no(non-rich) lives matter. People even disappeared from the streets. “Protect And Serve Ourselves” said Lawless “Law”. “News” never questioning who the real baddies and savages of history and present are. In RoyalNonce Brexitannia, Eugenics is the order of the day 

World misleaders were over-promoted and unfit for purpose. A grave new world siphoned the poor’s money into wealth’s repulsive, ingreeding pockets. Alien hearted NaziToffs coined #HumanCapitalStock with dystopian contempt (and their usual impunity) as churnalism sucked flaccid, future-exterminating fascist cock. 

Add a Climate Emergency and a Pandemic for a twist plus vapid celebrity as the weapon of mass distraction by the divide and conquer team. 

That would be some story, eh?

Even then, poetic souls would continue being born. 

Beautiful hearts, paying it forward, enthralled by the art of the heavens, cat/dog/horse lovers united. Laughter. Children of all ages excited by music, the moon…

They’d meet around family and friend engagement or at exhibition/entertainment events while their industrious imaginations informally rebuilt new worlds with words then actions.

They’d have secret pop stars that belong on bigger stages. Back story concepts with very much to say, having formed, endured and developed in the heist’s decayed decade. 

In 2014, sofa critics would declare that “guitar bands are over”. By 2016, hate crime increases five-fold. Despite all that, a Love (r)Evolution broke out in the interdependent arts, rising, virtually invisibly.

Planet Lockdown’s rock opera narrative has inciteful insight as the small venues already being culled before pandemica’s tragedy, are in danger of never opening again. We will make new ways to share joy.

We learn new/unlearn old things consistently. Manic Street Preachers are a University Of Life course, knowledge-wise.

Via the people and activism that their songs magnetise – alongside a band name, being street preachers as a way of life.

Diversity in the DNA of our “Generation Tremorists” proves there are no borders from the sky.

Aargh, now I miss gigs.

Do I regret all those years spent on punky safari adventures? No way. 

Will I grow up? What the fuck for in a world like THIS. What’s the point? I wanna be Grace Jones meets Keef when I keel over (hopefully after the last song, ha ha) somewhere.

People used to ask whether Soul, Funk or Reggae was the music I liked. I truthfully replied “yes”.

But…I am so much more than my skin.

A decolonised punk, a Love Pirate (thank you Mr Nice), sailing the high seas of a happily low life with high standards. In escapist entertainment, especially! 

Come and mutiny, friends, we are NOT all in the same boat!

Music just isn’t life for people who believe that it can’t mix with politics. 

For anybody who can trust my ears, I feel that this is one of the most heart warming, statue toppling years for poem souled, guitar blessed British/Irish album releases, EVER.

Words: Caffy St. Luce.