Welcome all to ππΌπ»π»πΌπΉπΉπβπ ππΌπΏπ»π²πΏ, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of πππ¬ πΌπ§π©ππ¨π© ππ₯π€π©π‘ππππ© playlists.
ππ€ πππ£π π¨ – ππππ πΌπ‘π‘ππ£
Charles thinks of others this Christmasβ¦
So! I thought I’d break with tradition. Which is very unlike me. Next Tuesday is Christmas Eve, and I will not be posting any reviews over the festive period. This gives me time to enjoy the festivities. But more importantly, it gives YOU time to do the same. I don’t want to spoil that for anyone by giving you the chore of reading whatever I might have chosen to natter about. What this means is, this is my last review of 2024. So far, this is no break from tradition. I always pause for a week or two over this season – remember, I’ve been doing these reviews since 2020…! Every year I make a point of writing a fun festive review just before Christmas. Here’s where the break with tradition comes in to play. There will be no holly, no tinsel, no elves, no glitter, no glamour, no baubles, no Santa, no reds, no whites, and no pinks. But plenty of blues. You see, the meaning of Christmas has changed over the years. It has become strangely sterile and commercial. We hunker down to a cosy time with the family, if possible. It was never supposed to be a time of gluttony and of excess. It was supposed to be a time of celebration in being grateful for what we have. A time to think about those less fortunate. Those who cannot revel in said festivities. Those going through the toughest of times. As the Christmas carol goes: In the Bleak Midwinter…
What with my NAS Christmas playlist having been going strong since December 1st, I would usually pick my fave and review it with all the merriment of St. Nick. Monsieur Claus. I would always be in my jingle bubble, like Santa’s little helper. While this is lovely for those able to enjoy such a time, there are some who might have rather more pressing things on their mind. Some who are starving. Some who are stuck in a war through no choice of their own. Some whose hearts are broken from having lost a dear soul. Some who are alone. I wish not to bring down the mood, but just make you aware of those less fortunate. It might make us more grateful “for what we have received”. While we’re on the subject of being grateful, I must quickly touch on my two-part Christmas treat last week. In another break with tradition, I was given a week off. One reader said βit was good of you to hand over the keysβ, but in fact I didnβt. My keys were stolen! I had no idea about any of it, and then BOOM! A whole host of wonderful artist friends secretly writing a load of reviews for my brand new album! Itβs just about the only time Iβve ever enjoyed having my keys stolen. And afterwards they even gave them back! It was more like a joyride in my Ford Cor(ti)ner. I just wanted to thank all those involved for a very special week – Iβve never had one like it.
And so, this week I am not picking a song from my merry playlist. I am not even picking a Christmas song. What is this sacrilege?!! Donβt worry, Jesus. We still love you. This week I will be less like Scrooge at the beginning of the film/book: βAre there no prisons? Are there no workhouses?β, and more like Scrooge at the end of the film/book: βCan you forgive the pig-headed old fool for having no eyes to see with; no ears to hear with, all these years?β. I donβt want to block out the bad that some are going through βbecause it might spoil my festive funβ. I want to take those in need into my arms and give them a piece of what I am fortunate to have. Christmas is about giving, not receiving. Of course, when one giveth, another retheiveth. Ithnβt that right? My heart springs back to Jane Marie and my review of two weeks ago. Her Christmas will be different this year. And then I think of Rich Allen, whose house was torn asunder this year by mighty storms and floods. The loss of a loved one is a tragedy. But what if that loved one is not a human. What if that loved one is a studio. A studio full of loved possessions such as a treasured piano? A piano is often more than an instrument. More than a piece of furniture. It can often be a vital part of an artistβs soul. This is just one of countless loved possessions that Rich lost through Godβs ferocious weather. Thankfully, his family was unharmed, and they are in the process of putting it all back together. He plans to move to higher ground – sensible chap. But this family of his was obviously deeply affected by the catastrophe. And you know what keeps Rich going? Music. Of course, music. No matter what Rich goes through, he is Mr. Pick-yourself-up Dust-yourself-off. He starts all over again. Quite incredible, really. He never gives in; he never gives up. Because: family. And it is music that gives him the hope and the strength to not dissolve.
Has Rich therefore decided to go full jaunt? Is this new song of his a lifter of the spirits? Well, the short answer is no. Very much not. Instead, he felt the need to open up. To be honest. To tell the truth and let go of what has plagued him for decades. Donβt worry, he hasnβt committed any sins. He is still our Uncle Rich (as I call him). You may have to get permission to call him that. The plot of this song goes deeper than mere weather. It goes beyond the life and loss of a piano. No Pinks has plenty of blues. And when I say blues, I mean that it is one of the saddest songs I have ever heard. More importantly though, it is the most personal song I have ever heard. Usually there is a limit to how much people are willing to say about their personal life. Even with artists. Sometimes this limit is for the sake of oneβs own privacy. Sometimes itβs because itβs just too sad to even think about, let alone publicly go into any detail. But in this rare case, it was BECAUSE of the extreme nature of this song, that Rich simply NEEDED to let it all out. A cleansing of sorts. A therapist might tell you to speak your innermost, deeper-most and furthermost thoughts, and in the case of this song, we are collectively his therapist. He speaks, we listen; he heals, and we bask in the honour of having been witness to such honesty in a full musical jacket. As to the plot of No Pinks, I know the entire story from the horseβs mouth. But I will not print that here because he is a friend, and an βUncleβ. I will instead simply leave you to listen to the lyrics for yourself.
With a simple backing of acoustic guitar, mandolin, violin, steel guitar, double bass and percussion (with of course those wondrous backing vocals from Emily Coomber), it might suggest that No Pinks is going to be quite light and drifty. It is not. It is deep beauty. The interlocking flow of the strings and the vocals are heartbreaking when linked with the words. To me, I hear the strings as the singing heart of Rich. A rich heart. A warm heart. An adult lost in a never-ending playground. One of the few who takes life seriously. But not without humour and light. Itβs just that this song has no humour, and no light. There is no fortune to this misfortune. There is no happy holiday Hollywood ending. But while the song is in the present, the event is thankfully long in the past. For Rich, this release is a relief of sorts. A dispelling of darkness and of haunting memory. While this will never leave him, it will hopefully not leave him heavy.
One review I received in last weekβs bus of praise, was by Rich himself. The review was from the heart. It was more a poem of love and appreciation than a review. But there was one thing I disagreed with. He talked about my mixes for other artists. Rich is one of those artists. He said βwithout CC, my music would sound more like a cat trying to sing opera than a polished piece of artβ. Now, while I burst out cackling for quite some time, this is simply not true. Of course, when I receive his unmixed stems, the sound is unrefined and unfinished. This is because they are unmixed. But to say I make him sound good is just wrong. I simply make a good thing better. Or rather, a better thing best. Richβs songs are brilliant. He is an excellent songwriter and singer. He chooses his parts wisely and has them professionally recorded by professional musicians in a professional studio. I am simply the final stage of all that, tweaking and honing, secretly moaning. And the final thing is a piece of which all those involved can be proud. Most of all, Rich. I was fortunate in having been given this song to mix (as with all of Richβs solo songs). It was difficult for various reasons. Mainly because of the personal nature of the song. But also because of the personal nature of the song. Two sides of the same coin, as it were. The song was so sad that I often found myself pausing for a moment to compose myself in order to continue professionally with the sound. The other side was in knowing how much this song meant to Rich. I felt pressure, but understandable pressure. I had to somehow try and put myself in the mind of Rich Allen. Which, considering the honesty in the song, was not that hard. I tried to imagine I was Rich, and I asked myself how EYE (he) would like the song to sound. I always give my mixes my all, but this one had to be more than that. Somehow! Anyway, somehow it worked, and his reply was tears (in a good way). He said this: βI wish you were here because I would hug youβ. And all I wanted to do was hug HIM. Because this song had become a part of me. It affected me as if I were involved in its plot. And this is the power of song. Of human song. Either that or weβre all a bunch of hugging hippies. Better than Hungry Hipposβ¦
And whose song soared straight to the top of the NAS Top 20 Chart in its first week of release? Iβll give you one guess. Yup, it was some A.I. junk. Sorry, my mistake: it was Rich, with No Pinks. Proud of the lad. Itβs where he belongs. And yet, what is more staggering is that with all his sensational releases over the years – I believe him to be the most consistent NAS artist – this is his very first number one!! Double awards for Rich! And Iβm sure heβll be celebrating with a bottle of red and a bottle of white. No pinks though. And hopefully no more blues.
With love from Uncle Scrooge, to Uncle Rich: the richest man in town.
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