Welcome all to ๐๐ผ๐ป๐ป๐ผ๐น๐น๐โ๐ ๐๐ผ๐ฟ๐ป๐ฒ๐ฟ, 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 ๐๐๐ฌ ๐ผ๐ง๐ฉ๐๐จ๐ฉ ๐๐ฅ๐ค๐ฉ๐ก๐๐๐๐ฉ playlists.
๐.๐.๐. – ๐๐๐๐ก๐๐ฅ ๐๐ค๐ง๐๐๐ฃ ๐๐๐ฌ๐๐จ
Charles gets the feeling he owes youโฆ
Ordinarily, yesterday would have been just another day. The start of a new week. A humble Monday. For me, it is the day that I write my weekly โreviewโ (or article/piece/column/chunk oโ woyds/cushion of praise). And in this respect it was no different. But this time around, the day of the week was somewhat irrelevant. It was Valentineโs Day. Or probably soon to be called International Love Day – for fear of offending the dumb-dumbs who just donโt understand. Love Day was traditionally the day that forced men to go out and buy a bunch of flowers and a cheap box of chocs from the petrol/gas station, for the woman waiting at home for a bunch of flowers and a cheap box of chocs from the petrol/gas station. Nowadays, of course, due to equality and our modern culture shiftโฆ little has changed. Perhaps these days the โother halfโ is equally moved to โshow their affectionโ in a similar manner. And so, we end up with two bunches of flowers and two cheap boxes of chocs, that frankly no one wanted in the first place. It takes a very clever society indeed to play on oneโs guilt, where it is not so important what one does, as the feeling of guilt if one doesnโt do. It is a tick box.
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