Once again, I’ve picked a song from what was Belfast’s stonking “Christian music” scene in the late 1990s. (Excuse the scare quotes — I was very cautious of using that phrase, since it comes with so much baggage that doesn’t really fit any of the names who were gigging in and around it at that time and the years preceding: Iain Archer, Peter Wilson/Booley/now Duke Special, Juliet Turner, Brian Houston. Also, I couldn’t find a better word than ‘scene’. Forgive me.)
The Maroons only released one album, the short but near-perfect 3 miles. A consequence of the small, local band and the pre-MySpace (and everything else prominently internet-y) era is no streaming for you to listen to. In fact, a quarter of an hour’s searching suggests that the internet is barely aware that they existed. A shame.
“Come What May” forms the spine of the album. It’s track four of eight, it’s noticeably longer than the rest, it opens with the slightly sombre strings that mark it out as different to the other songs. It’s lyric of hope, come what may, provides the context for everything else that is sung.
It’s also a song that I never really got until the band was no more. I was at their farewell gig, a stormer at Strandtown CFC, and when they played “Come What May” it seemed to go on all night. It felt like everyone there wanted it to go on even longer, but like the band that was only around for a short time and one brief disc, it finished.
3 miles is still one of the most loved records I have. I come back to it regularly and get immersed in it all over again. It really is a shame I can’t find any to stream for you.
(PAW2009 27/52)
Saturday was the much talked-about, occasionally maligned and, by all accounts, rather up-and-down monthly farmers’ market in Lisburn. It was packed out, much more so then the last time we were there. (Apparently it was all but empty last month. Sited in a park a little bit removed from the rest of the shopping in Lisburn, it will always be quite sensitive to the weather.)
We stopped in to say hi to our friends at Bean and Gone. The market was that busy that, by the middle of the day, the espresso I had used some of the last of the coffee they had with them, and before we left it was completely sold out. That can only be a good sign.
The council has committed to running the market until next Spring, on the first Saturday of every month. It only works when the traders make money, and there’s good food and various other things to go with the good coffee. If you’re passing Castle Gardens on the right afternoon, stick your head in and have a look.
Today’s tune is an easy one, since tomorrow is the first of July.
Some songs are perfect for evoking certain feelings, or firing off memories. It’s something to do with the way music slips its way inside you.
I guess “July”, by Mundy, is plain and obvious about its summertime intentions, but it delivers everything it promises. This is a song that was written to be played in the car, with the sun shining and the windows down.
“July” [YouTube]
“July” [Spotify]
(PAW2009 26/52)
I’m not completely sure of this exact crop, or the rough and ready processing, but you can see what I was going for.
And a little bit more:
- Via Glenn, Surviving the World. Go get lost in the archives for a while.
- I really enjoyed the audiobook of METAtropolis a while ago. Now it's coming out on dead trees.
- Kodachrome has passed. I love my Kodachrome, and have a small stockpile that I use very sparingly. Now that there'll be no more, I suppose I'd better use it while there's still a lab in the world that can process it (yes, only one).
- I was looking for something (serious) on YouTube, yet stumbled across Trap Door episodes. The show was one of my favourites as a little kid. Ah, nostalgia.
I have things to do, now, so I’ll step away from those links and leave them for you.