This was my last full week at my current employment. I’m excited, if a little bit anxious, for what comes next.

Books

The Future Is Analog by David Sax. Another one of those “it could have been a blog post” books. In this case, the post’s title would have been “Why i don’t like Zoom”, and i wouldn’t have read it, because self-absorbed accounts of the pandemic experience are about as interesting as watching paint dry.

Music

The Eternal Now by Chip Wickham. Gondwana Records continue to deliver the goods. The Eternal Now is Chip Wickham’s most imaginative album yet — which says a lot when you consider that Blue to Red and Cloud 10 were sensational. There’s something very “retro-chic” in Wickham’s lush flute solos, the liberal use of reverb and the cinematic arrangements. It’s too edgy to be called “smooth”, but it’s the perfect soundtrack for early morning coffees and late-night drinks.

Wamono Groove: Shakuhachi & Koto Jazz Funk ’76 by Kiyoshi Yamaya, Toshiko Yonekawa and Kifu Mitsuhashi. C has an uncanny ability to find the most obscure stuff at our favourite record shops. I’d never heard of wamono before, but it’s fast becoming my new obsession. I don’t know if it qualifies as jazz, funk, disco, soul or something else, but the fusion of traditional Japanese instruments and American grooves is absolutely delightful.

Movies

The Marching Band by Emmanuel Courcol. The perfect movie for this infuriating class of conservatives that see themselves as progressives because they voted for the left when they were 18. Sorry, but i don’t think that the social divide that’s tearing our society apart is a funny matter.

Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy by Michael Morris. It’s weird watching a Bridget Jones movie that’s not only a classic rom-com that hits all the bases, but also a meaningful exploration of widowhood, single parenting and making a new life for yourself in your 50s. (Also: slutty Hugh Grant is the best Hugh Grant.)

TV

Platonic S2 by Francesca Delbanco and Nicholas Stoller. The constant arguments about the most inane things are incredibly tiring because they don’t serve genuine character development. That’s a problem when your characters have become frankly obnoxious. The show-runners seem to have abandoned all pretence of a plot in favour of a collection of unamusing gags and misfired Chekhov’s guns. I’m out.