Books and music, music and books,
of all the arts these are the two that I’ve lost myself the most in since childhood. And sometimes, of course, I combine the two.
One Train Later is the autobiography of The Police guitarist Andy Summers. I read this book in the last few leisurely days.
I was already familiar with the group’s hits, staple fare of the airwaves since I was growing up, and now this lockdown had afforded me some time to work my way through their albums. Acquainting myself with their less well known tracks, I made my way through their material in chronological order, allowing me to chart their development in a way that their fans at the time would have experienced them.
It further cemented the belief that my musical taste is fixed, mostly, on this side of the millennium.
Of course, there are a few exceptions, (and I don’t think it healthy for anyone to live solely in the past), and nothing can beat stumbling upon a great busker on the streets of Manchester when loaded down with bags in the wake of your wife’s shopping trail.
But that is a luxury currently denied to us, and so in the meanwhile it’s this:
books and music, music and books,
with hopefully good weather and copious amounts of coffee.