And this is why the current pandemic has given me the lockdown blues. The things that I love \u2014 watching football, travelling the world and visiting speciality coffee shops \u2014 are on hold indefinitely. Coffee Twitter, at least, is still active but I\u2019ve also been avoiding Twitter more, of late, because of the toxicity and judgement, which has become harder to avoid. I\u2019ve been sharing one photo per day on Instagram of something that brings me, and perhaps others, a little happiness \u2014 usually coffee, food or a photo from one of my daily runs or walks in and around Bermondsey. I am, of course, relatively very lucky: I am healthy and have a safe, comfortable place to live. I have a secure job in scientific publishing \u2014 one that keeps me busier than ever during the COVID-19 crisis and one where I can work from home. But I still miss my friends and family, and my old life.<\/p>\n
The human mind is remarkably adaptable, however, and well equipped to seek companionship even during times of physical distancing. As such, I found myself tumbling down another internet rabbit hole and into another community. It was by chance that I happened to read a Relative Values column<\/a> in The Times<\/i> with Richard Osman, of Pointless<\/i> fame, and his brother. I hadn\u2019t made the connection before that Richard\u2019s brother was Mat Osman, the bassist in Suede \u2014 one of my favourite bands of the 1990s. In the Britpop wars, I chose Oasis over Blur, but Suede\u2019s music \u2014 and especially Brett Anderson\u2019s darkly poetic lyrics \u2014 spoke to me more. It helped that I had a massive crush on Anderson himself; I dreamed of being his titular Byronic heroine. But the playful subversion of the music and the band themselves was also very appealing; they’ve always wanted to start their own ‘tribe’, for those who couldn’t find their place among those that already existed.<\/p>\n Although I came for Coming Up<\/i>, released shortly before my 13th birthday in 1996, I stayed for Stay Together<\/a><\/i>, a bleak tale of love in the time of apocalypse, released on Valentine\u2019s Day, 1994. The song has remained a regular feature of my primary \u2018current\u2019 playlist on and off ever since. In my normal life, I don\u2019t have a lot of time to listen to music, so when I do, it has to be special music that has emotional resonance for me. Working from home recently has meant more time for background music, though, so I downloaded Suede\u2019s entire back catalogue, including the three albums released since their reunion in 2010, and listened to everything pretty much non-stop for the next few weeks. I watched old interview clips and gigs, I read Anderson\u2019s two well-regarded<\/a> memoirs<\/a> and watched the excellent documentary The Insatiable Ones<\/a><\/i>. <\/p>\n Then I discovered an active and welcoming Suede fan group on Facebook. Each Wednesday during lockdown, they organise a \u2018stay home\u2019 Suede activity. As part of this, I\u2019ve recreated my own Suede album cover \u2014 shot underneath some local skyscrapers, in the style of the Stay Together <\/i>EP<\/a> \u2014 which got more likes than anything I\u2019ve ever done on social media. I also wrote a poem for this week\u2019s competition, 12 lines, one to be a Suede lyric. Although Afterlight<\/i>, appended below for posterity, didn\u2019t win, it was nice to know that Anderson, who was judging, had read it. It was satisfying to find a productive output for my lockdown creativity, to connect with like-minded fans, and to be soothed by the transformative power of music that matters.<\/p>\n It didn\u2019t have to be Suede and it didn\u2019t have to be Wolves or speciality coffee. The topic is almost besides the point. But the search for knowledge and for human connection is really what has driven these \u2018obsessions\u2019 of mine. I want people to feel a frisson when I quote a Suede lyric. I want people to get my Wolves in-joke. I want them to find my coffee and travel features useful. I want to contribute. I want to fit in.*<\/p>\n *The final Suede connection in this Bret Easton Ellis quote comes from the song <\/i>Obsessions, appropriately enough, where Anderson casually segues Easton Ellis and Albert Camus \u2014 a most Suede-like mix of high and low culture.<\/i><\/p>\n Afterlight<\/i> I daydream into oblivion I daydream of you, struggling to fight [The final line is from We Are the Pigs<\/a><\/i>.]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" This post is rather more personal than usual but I wanted to write down some thoughts during these most uncertain COVID-19 times. Normal coffee- and travel-post service to resume…at some point, I hope. \u201cI never realised you were so into … Continue reading ![](\"https:\/\/1.bp.blogspot.com\/-8JhTJZ2PTAA\/XslCqG-91uI\/AAAAAAAAXpE\/ZlyWaFcG6UwowKHgFeSSXDR0DeUUSa3NQCLcBGAsYHQ\/s1240\/P5050073.jpg\")
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I bought a Suede t-shirt too; like my Wolves shirt, it serves as a heraldic banner, signalling my fealty, my tribe, and sometimes I receive a friendly salute from passersby. \u201cThat\u2019s quite a strong statement, isn\u2019t it?\u201d said one barista reading the words, \u2018it starts and ends with Suede\u2019 on my t-shirt. Maybe he was a Blur fan\u2026<\/p>\n
Not a sole cloud taints the burnt orange sky,
Not a soul on the street, no passersby,
An early summer in London town,
An early summer and no one\u2019s around.<\/p>\n
Of a recent time, now long gone,
Where we\u2019d lie on our backs in parks for hours,
Gazing up at featureless towers.<\/p>\n
The urge to converge in the afterlight,
But as the febrile world mulls its plight,
All the people say, \u2018stay at home tonight\u2019.<\/p>\n