Some 2025 Things

As the end of the year, another horror year in geopolitical terms, with wars being waged relentlessly, naked power revealing itself in more distressing ways with each passing month, approaches, and in the hope of maintaining a psyche that is relatively sane, and to attempt to get to the very marrow of life, I have turned, as I always do, to art, literature, music, style, and the non-human world, because, in all honesty, where else can one go?
I'm not going to discuss health issues in this post, as any regular (and much appreciated) readers among you know this is a constant in my life, and this year has been no different. But here are a few of the things that have made this year enchanting and interesting, listed in no particular order of importance lest we forget that art isn't a competitive sport.

As an individual who often finds that he has more in common with the culture of the past than the present day, to discover that the entire series of BBC's Play For Today is available on the Internet Archive website was for me a majestic occurrence. I have watched a couple of them, but the one that has had the biggest impact and which was genuinely unsettling was Dennis Potter's Schmoedipus, starring Tim Curry of Rocky Horror fame, in a role that was filmed the year after he had premiered the role of Frank-en-furter in London. It is genuinely unsettling, humorous and toe-curling in equal measure, but also with a big heart. I discovered that the Play For Today series was available because of one of the Hauntology-themed groups I follow, and I am incredibly grateful to them for bringing this to my attention. And this episode has that eerie, Hauntology mood in abundance. If you get the chance it is very much worth watching, and can be found here:

https://archive.org/details/play-for-today/Play+for+Today+-+S04E20+-+Schmoedipus+(20+June+1974).avi

                                      Salome, Oscar Wilde

I have studied this utterly absorbing and fascinating play in great depth this year, and it's been one of the most rewarding and richest reading experiences of my life. The icing on the cake was seeing it performed on the stage, which I finally got to do this year. Its exploration of the intense power that desire wields on our world is explored in fascinating detail by Wilde in this play. as the heroine of the title, Salome, brings tragedy untold on the characters because of her magnetic beauty. Salome herself is, also, a revolutionary feminist character, because not only does she inspire fear desire in men (and women), but very unusually for the 19th century (not unusual among the fabulous symbolist and decadent artists of the time, however), Wilde gives Salome her own fierce desire as well, and it is her insatiable desire for the Baptist, Jokanaan, that brings the tragedy to its almost inevitable conclusion. It is an incredible play full of mystery and symbolism, is still controversial even now, and it could be argued that the real star of the play isn't a human being but, that beautiful ever-present mystery in the sky: the glittering moon.

       The Government Inspector, Chichester Festival Theatre.

Having missed so many theatrical productions that I would love to have seen, to be back in an auditorium watching plays is a wonderful gift, and none more so than witnessing Nikolai Gogol's hilarious and deeply moving The Government Inspector, which was produced this summer at the Chichester Festival Theatre. Oh, where do I begin? Maybe with the author, Nikolai Gogol. His story is a fascinating and tragic one. Born in Ukraine in 1809, he is perhaps most famous for his selection of eerie, enchanting, and quite devastating short stories, which included The Nose, The Overcoat, and, my favourite, Diary of a Madman. This particular story has a special place in both mine and my good lady's hearts, as in our early courting days we used to sit in bed and I would read this story out loud to her. There are moments of great humour but it is also a melancholy tale. The main character, a typical early 19th century Russian peasant, thinks he is the King of Spain, and as the story unfolds it is hilarious and tragic in equal measure. So Gogol already has a special place in both mine and my good lady's hearts, and to see one of his plays at the theatre was wonderful. The very final scene, after ninety minutes of craziness and farce, saw the cast members all freeze in one position, like a photograph. They held that pose for a full two minutes, and as a lonely violin played wistfully in the background, it was truly one of the most stunning conclusions to a play I have ever witnessed. It was like looking at a portrait, and the sense of absurdity that is human existence was tangible in that moment. We are all in this thing called life, it seemed to say, we are all desperately trying to make our way, guessing about the future, trying to make the right decisions, and sometimes getting it hopelessly wrong. Sometimes all we can hope for is understanding and forgiveness, and it was a hugely human and compassionate way to end the play with.

So, there's a few cultural things that I enjoyed immensely in 2025. Let's hope that 2026, as always, brings us all, to quote Percy Bysshe Shelley, much enchantment of the heart.

Spotify: Wrapped

It's been a few years since I did a Spotify: Wrapped post on here so I thought I would pop this year's listening on here for posterity. It goes without saying that Spotify: Wrapped is actually a bit of a joke, and more of an advertisement for Spotify than anything else, so I don't take these things too seriously. But it does have its place, and I have found this year's Wrapped to have been a fascinating reminder of my year on Spotify.

The format obviously changes slightly each year, and this time round it had a few 'day diary listening' examples, one of which really stopped me in my tracks. It was from February, when I was an inpatient at the hospital desperately battling another bout of pneumonia that had developed because I had caught a succession of different respiratory viruses. And the memory of one of those days stood before me like it was yesterday.

The report reads:

"The night began with a late-evening spin through Release Radar - Lady Gaga, Fatboy Slim, and Moby all taking a turn - before the early hours drifted into ambient Brian Eno and Claude Debussy." 

This is almost like a torch being shined into my life at hospital at night, for around midnight, my third round of daily antibiotics is set up by the nurses, which takes about one and a half to two hours to administer. I can see myself lying on the bed, attached to the life-saving drip, listening to my beloved music which is almost as vital as the intravenous drugs in keeping me going at this point. The ward comes to life at around 11pm, with the nurses coming into my room to do observations, and supper being brought in, so I am relatively awake when the IVs are hooked up. This will have been the time when I listened to the Release Radar, and it's a pity there isn't a bit more detail about this, actually, as I have discovered some spectacular new music this year that isn't featured on Wrapped. And, then, of course, as I near the end of the IVs being administered, tiredness will obviously be increasingly kicking in, and that's when Eno and Debussy will have taken over, probably humming gently away as I drift in and out of sleep during the night.

"By midday, Pulp, Suede, and Roxy Music took the baton, with Manic Street Preachers holding the stage from afternoon through evening."

My morning IVs are administered at 6am, so at some point I will have awakened enough to want something a little bit more up-tempo than Eno and Debussy. And I can see myself, listening to my favourite, obscure Pulp, Suede and Roxy tracks, absolute wonders of the universe such as 'His 'N' Hers', 'Your Sister's Clothes', and 'Seconds' from Pulp. Suede would have been my first actual listen of the morning, I would imagine, especially the majestic 'Dawn Chorus', as the beautiful pigeons outside my hospital window will have been the first souls that I will have had the opportunity to connect with that morning, and this hymn always brings me closer to my feathered friends, along with the magisterial 'The Fur and the Feathers', and the rousing 'That Boy on the Stage.' 

At some point, I will have finished breakfast, and been attended to by the physios for my first intense session of airway clearance physiotherapy of the day, which usually takes between 45 minutes to an hour. And with this being Release Radar day it means it's a Friday morning, which also means ward round when I see the consultant. And in that strange space in between seeing the physio and the consultant, I can see myself disappearing into Roxy's dreamlike, decadent world of art and icy glamour, and I can recall only too well from experience that it will have been 'Flesh and Blood,' 'Eight Miles High', and 'No Strange Delight', that will have been savoured more than once. 

And then, following my meeting with the consultant, is the place where my beloved Manics are called upon. There are times when it seems that it's only them that can do whatever it is that my psyche so desperately needs, so it makes perfect sense to me that this would be my listening for the main part of the afternoon and the early evening, in between the many distractions of different people coming in to see me (i.e., my second round of IV antibiotics, second round of physio, the psychologist, the dietician, the CF nurse specialist; the schedule of my days in hospital really do need to be seen to be believed, and to think some well meaning friends of ours always show their concern about me "being bored" when I'm in hospital. If only they really knew). 

There are a couple of other interesting (and rather terrifying for me, personally) diary day recollections that make perfect sense to me looking back. I had many ups and downs during that winter admission and at times it was looking very serious indeed, and by consulting my actual diary, I have managed to piece together exactly what was happening on two other different days in February, and they tell their own story:

My most listened to album was Antidepressants by Suede, and it has been an incredible year for two Suede-girls like me and my wonderful wife. Not only did we get the new album, but it was post-punk inspired and Suede did a run of events in their wonderfully titled 'Suede: Post-punk Pick ups at the Southbank Centre' in September, some of which we were fortunate enough to attend. The highlight was a dream concert, which will live in my memory for as long as memory lasts, featuring a full orchestra, the exquisite Paraorchestra. We have rarely had a September like it, and after missing out on so much from 2020-2024 because of the pandemic, and seeing pictures and videos of our friends and acquaintances having the time of their lives, at various concerts, including Suede, to be able to finally see them again in concert ourselves was truly a gift from the gods. And they played 'Dawn Chorus' with the Paraorchestra as well. Oh, be calm my ever-trembling heart.

As you can see, there is a rather unusual (for me) album at number 4, as I really don't consider myself a big Elton John listener. But there is quite a story behind this. I have a wonderful pen friend who wrote to me frequently whilst I was struggling in hospital, with many suggestions for music that I might be interested in. And one of her suggestions was 'I Need You To Turn To' from this live album, which had been recorded in Melbourne with an orchestra in 1986. Now I had actually purchased this record circa 1988/89, from a second hand record shop in Chester, because at that time I was discovering the unique power of pop/rock music when combined with an orchestra. Queen and Freddie Mercury had been my main opening to this, and although Indie (The Stone Roses, Happy Mondays, etc) was now in an unstoppable ascendancy, it left me cold, and I wanted something far more dramatic, sweeping, and sophisticated. And, on a whim, and swayed merely by the description on the album sleeve, I took a gamble on Elton's Live in Australia double album. It blew my mind. But after a year or so I must have stopped listening to it, and the memory of it all but faded as new life experiences and new music and art entered my world. But when I received the lovely email from my friend with the suggestion of not only this song, but the actual live version that I had once owned, it sent my memory into overdrive. And then, for the first time in over thirty-five years I listened with joy and deep emotion to 'I Need You To Turn To', and then, obviously, the entire album, and I am delighted beyond measure that it is now back on my radar. I know many people really can't get on with Elton, and, believe me, the things of his that I listen to are very small in number, and Live in Melbourne is the only record of his that I have ever owned, but maybe give this a go, and if you can, listen without prejudice. It really is quite beautiful, as is the entire album.

It's absolutely no surprise to me, though, to discover that my most listened to pieces of music this year have been by the divine Claude Debussy. His gorgeous, breath-taking music forms a big portion of my Coffee & Poe playlist, which I love to have on not only when I can give it my undivided attention, but also whilst I am reading or whenever life's stresses are getting too much and I desperately need something to calm my trembling heart and nerves. Chopin, Gabriel Faure and Erik Satie also feature heavily on this playlist, but it's Debussy that has taken the crown of my most listened to tracks of 2025.

And so, that's mainly it for 2025. Chart Music, once again, was my most listened to podcast, and a biography of Oscar Wilde is the audiobook I have listened to most, although I don't listen to audiobooks often as I prefer to actually read (darlings), and I am actually surprised it isn't Duncan Ferguson's autobiography, Big Dunc, that was my most listened to audiobook this year, as my good lady and I listened to his hilarious and astonishing life stories, delivered in his incredibly rich Scottish accent whilst we were doing home IVs over the summer.

"... Bang!"

But it's Suede that will be my main musical memory of this past year. The year when they released a fabulous new album, and my good lady and I were finally able to reconnect with them in concert after four highly distressing years away from these secular religious occasions that we adore so much.

"We're not obsessive at all!"

Until next time, darlings xx