Charles Connolly

Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, 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 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙉𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙚 – 𝙁𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙁𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧

Charles is dressed for the occasion…

Being a Londoner has had various effects on me. One of those is confidence. Not arrogance in the slightest, but the confidence to be me. The confidence to not really care what others think of me, while still retaining enough modesty and manners to respect them. The other day I went shopping with my girlfriend. Clothes shopping. Something I detest – how typically “man” of me. Navigation is key, here. There’s the Tube (London Underground) to navigate, with its many lines, branches and hot platforms. Eventually, we came up for air at the recently modernised Tottenham Court Road Station – ugly. Here we were, standing on the corner of Oxford Street. God: Oxford Street; I have not been here in years. And so we sauntered. It has changed a lot. I assumed that it would be a nightmare, but surprisingly it was actually rather exhilarating and fascinating. I felt like a tourist, marvelling at everything and everyone! We navigated in and out of various shops, stopped for a bite to eat in Soho Square, then continued navigating. Despite being busy, it was never too much. I never felt panicky or claustrophobic. It was simply enjoyable. “But Charles, what has this to do with confidence?” – good question…

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Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, 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 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙈𝙮 𝙏𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙚 – 𝙃𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙒𝙞𝙡𝙙

Charles speaks honestly about the overrated and the underrated.

It’s out! Finally, the wait is over! We have all been longing for this for 6 years. The brand new album by Adele: “30”!!!

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Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, 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 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙈𝙖𝙣𝙝𝙖̃ 𝘿𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙙𝙖 – 𝙅𝙤𝙖𝙤 𝘼𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙝𝙖

Charles is just being nice…

I’m a bad man. Rotten to the core. Cruel and sadistic. Horrid horrid horrid. This is what everyone says about me. Okay. This is not what everyone says about me. At least, not to my face anyway. Then why say it here? Because sometimes we have thoughts. Irrational thoughts. Absurd and fictional thoughts, based on absolutely nothing. It was also a punchy way of starting the article. Ahem. Negative thoughts of oneself can easily creep in when surrounded by negative, bad and ugly. Take last week’s article, for example. I decided not to comply. I decided not to embrace a thing called HAL. I decided not to see the potential positive effect of it on art. While I won’t be changing my stance any time soon, this negativity can lead to heavier things. If one sees only doom and gloom, one feels only doom and gloom. And it is easy to slide down the slippery slope of “I’m no good”. These days, I would have said my thoughts and views are pretty balanced. Also, these days I think I’m pretty comfortable with who I am, and what I’m like. Am I bad? Am I mean? Am I cruel? Am I dishonest? Am I a criminal? No. Am I perfect? Pahahaha! No. Very far from it. While being in a generally healthy state of mind, I could always be better. We all could. But I’d just like to give the good guys a pat on the back for being so good. While we could all be better, just think how much worse we could be? All those liars and fakers and cheaters out there. We could be like that. We could be going around, spitting on grannies and tripping up children. I saw you, laughing at the idea of the kid falling over. I chuckled too. Because it’s funny. Okay, the kid isn’t laughing, but we mustn’t lose our sense of humour. Stifle that natural laughter, then help the kid up. For most of us, good enough, is good enough. Don’t try to be a positive drone. If it ain’t natural, it ain’t natural.

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Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, 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 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙈𝙚𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙚 𝙆𝙡𝙚𝙞𝙣 – 𝙁𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙅𝙤𝙨𝙝𝙪𝙖

Charles analyses the situation…

There has been an increasing rarity of something in my reviews lately. Please don’t all shout at once: “Rap! Death Metal! Brevity!”… I know, I know. I’m more talking about something that used to be quite common in these parts. But has only come up maybe three or four times this year. We’ve had plenty of the rock, the indie, the alternative, the folk, the classical, the soul, the pop, the prog, and even the reggae. So, what am I talking about? What is missing? It’s something that is actually relatively common. But rarely of a high standard, because it’s bloody hard to do well; notoriously so. It has to sound polished. It has to sound classic. It usually has to sound professional (but there can be a certain charm when it’s not). It can be peaceful, but usually it’s sad; and it can be heart-wrenching. I’m talking about ballads.

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Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, 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 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙈𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝘽𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙢’𝙨 𝙈𝙤𝙣𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚 – 𝙆𝙚𝙡𝙚 𝙁𝙡𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜

Charles isn’t yet brave enough…

Hands Up who’s sick to death of Spotify…? Who is absolutely fed up with everything it has become in recent years? The way it is less a music listening platform, and more a social media platform…? Oh, but it goes so much deeper than that. It ain’t just an ugly interface. Sorry, you can all put your hands down now; I saw “y’all”. Spotify has become a fully-fledged greed machine. It has no scruples or morals of any kind. It does not care about a single artist. It does not care about the music industry. It does not care about music. It is (only recently) trying to look like it is doing something about HAL (A.I.) – but even that is all a ruse. It is widely known (though not officially proven) that Spotify is not only adding HAL music to its own editorial playlists, but actually making fully HAL playlists, to the extent that there isn’t a single human-made track on such playlists (again, not proven, but known). Spotify has been punishing innocent independent artists for quite a while now, having whole artist catalogues removed due to one song unknowingly having been placed on a rogue bot-playlist (a playlist that is streamed automatically by robots in order to accrue streaming royalties). The artist did nothing here. And Spotify gives no warning. Because Spotify too is run by robots. Everything is automatic, and humans have little or nothing to do with its running. This is art, baby! And what about royalties? What does the artist get in return for someone listening to their song once? Let’s just say it would take about 300 plays of that song to buy the artist a Mars bar. So, not very much.

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Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, 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 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙈𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨, 𝙇𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙑𝙞𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙤 – 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘼𝙧𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙨

Charles goes back in time to lose his mind once more…

There is a chunk of my life that none of you knows about. Not one. I used to a be a woman. No, no: with this beard, that would be most silly and quite unrealistic. Although I have always been quite proud of my eyelashes. I am going to tell you about that chunk. Cue dream-scene wavy lines – doodly doodly doo. And we’re here. The year is 2006. I am 22. My hair is quite long and naturally blonde. My beard is straggly and thin in parts, which makes me look somewhat like a terrorist stereotype. Nah, I can’t do this in the present tense – all too real and freaking me out. Let me tell you about the time anyway. Having recently obtained my music degree, I thought it best to have a lot of fun. And so I did. I was out every night of the week. Girls, parties, pubs, girls, drink, smoke, girls, drink, smoke, drink, smoke – ahem. I was YOUNG!! Leave me alone. So, there was all of that, as per usual. But as with today, there was one constant. Music. Always listening, always discovering, always playing, always going to gigs. But always PLAYING gigs. Good old giggity-gigs. I was in several bands through the years, but there was always one particular one that stays with me. We were really rather good – if you like that sort of thing. A simple four-piece consisting of guitar, bass, drums and vocals. Joe King was the incredible bassist. Yes, his real name was Joe King – his parents must have been having a laugh. Blah was the guitarist, and other blah was the singer. I say Blah because we didn’t particularly get on in the end, and the other blah was his girlfriend and so backed him up on everything he said or did. She also couldn’t sing and didn’t understand the concept of a melody. It was more of a drunk croon from someone occasionally walking on hot coals. You know these medic types (for that was what she was studying at the time)… This guitarist though – he was good, but his fingers were like spider legs. The simplest movement on the neck of the guitar made his hand look contorted like someone suffering from rheumatoid arthritis. Basically, his fingers weren’t as good as his brain. He came up with really good licks, but couldn’t quite play them well enough. And then there was me. I was on drums.

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Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, 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 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙈𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙊𝙛 𝙂𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙨 – 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙛𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙀𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚

Charles is not himself…

Ghosts do not exist. They just don’t. At least, I don’t think they do. No, they don’t. For the last hour I have been chatting with my twin brother about the idea, as I sit on my desk chair, and he sits most comfortably on my sofa. We have come to the conclusion that they don’t exist. Magic also, is not real. Only illusion and trickery. Wait a second. I don’t have a twin brother. I don’t even have a brother. Then who have I been talking to? And where the hell has he gone? Okay, he is not here anymore. Maybe he popped out for a bit of air. But no, wait. WHO is he? Who WAS he? And why is the sofa now facing the wall? Time for a cup of tea, to calm my nerves. Got to heave this sofa back to its former position first. JEEZ, it’s heavy. Right. Tea. Kettle on. Cup from cupboard, teabag from other cupboard. Where’s the cup?! Let’s try again. Right, CUP from cupboard. Ugh, forgot to plug in the kettle. Wait, I never unplug the kettle. Wait, it’s boiling! Where’s the damned CUP?? Okay, forget this. No tea. Back to the living room. Must turn that sofa. Wait, I turned the sofa! Oh thank God, my twin is back. That’s a relief. He turns the sofa, so I don’t have to. Now HE wants tea. Well HE can battle with the cup this time. He seems to be making a lot of noise in there; let’s have a look. Twin gone. Wait, I DON’T HAVE A TWIN!! Tea made, though. Well at least that’s something. Oh what a relief, my mother is here. Now I know SHE exists. She’ll calm me down. There’s something not quite right, though. She seems to be walking backwards, towards the window. I feel a little uncomfortable – her voice is much deeper than usual. The window falls from its frame. She is being sucked outwards into a chaotic hurricane. All she can say is “is this tea for me?”. The tea is really the last thing on my mind, right now… The whole flat (apartment, for you Americans) starts to disintegrate and rumble from below. I am alone. Flames start to grow from the cracks in the floor. Embers are shot upwards like mini fireworks. As I cower and curl up into a ball, wishing for my twin to comfort me – existing or not – a deep, dark and devilish music surrounds me. Enticing me with a fiery hand. I feel the urge to grab these boney fingers and succumb to my only chance, whatever that may be.

(more…)

Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, 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 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙈𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙘, 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙚𝙨 – 𝙋𝙖𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙠 𝘼𝙝𝙡𝙢

Charles measures life…

My weekly musings often cover the wisest philosophy. Or rather, they ramble on about this or that for several paragraphs. Something that has happened to me recently. Something in the news. My general random observations. A sad thing. A happy thing. Ya know: stuff. Basically, something in the artist or song that will give me something to blether about for a little while. But this time, let’s go deeper. Let us philosophise about one the biggest conundrums known to man: the meaning of life. I will not be littering this with Monty Python quotes, just in case any of you got excited. This will be deadly serious. Well, as deadly serious as I can get anyway. Which isn’t very.

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Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, 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 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙈𝙮 𝙁𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝘾𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙙 – 𝙎𝙞𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙑𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙞

Charles favours one over the others…

So you’re single. Having the time of your life. Enjoying every day to the max. Utterly free and untethered. What joy it is! But you rarely realise it at the time. From time to time however, you do start to get a wittle bit wonewee. Just a wittle bit. You want to share these fun times with someone. But not in the way you would with your best friend. You want something closer. SomeONE closer. So you keep your eyes peeled and wear your lucky red t-shirt. Soon enough you spot the cutest little thing with the sweetest of moustaches, and a pretty little large beauty spot right in the middle of the forehead. Attraction can be a queer thing, and love can sway and skew all. Their name is Mel, and things go rather well. Ah hell, it’s better than that, can’t you tell? You fell to one knee, they said yes, and now it’s wedding bells! What fun, what larks, what japes! Nothing could spoil this beginning of forever. But like every business, expansion is the key. So they got fat. Well, one did. But before getting thin again, a thing arrived by stork. A little bloody blob of a person, no less!

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Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, 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 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙉𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙨 – 𝘽𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙇𝙤𝙬𝙧𝙮

Charles gives you the genuine article…

You’re probably assuming I am going to blether on about dreams, gradually segueing into nightmares. But I will do no such thing. Not even going to touch on the subject.

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