Over the Fields I Go

Next in ‘f’ is an mp3 collection that sprawls over styles, genres, years & countries. Filed under ‘f’ thanks to a couple of lps by Lee Fields & The Expressions: My World, Faithful Man: this is modern, muscular, retro R&B in the Wilson Pickett, Lou Rawls style. Dynamic horns, aggressive yet romantic hyper-masculine, heteronormative music. I love it. I think I heard a track on So You Think You Can Dance? (SYTYCD) & searched it out.

The same is true for Sam Smith – I have his In The Lonely Hours (Delux Versions), Nirvana. A male Adele his work is emotional, romantic & in some ways the opposite of Lee Fields – Smith is an out gay man & his romance is gentle but thanks to market pressure not directly about male-on-male. Full of unnamed longing for an un-gendered love object.

A live set, En Obras by Almendra an Argentinian rock band. An ep by The Sherlocks: First Bite of The Apple – that I heard about via Tumblr. Well-Strung – is a singing, gay-male, string quartet who do covers of things like Rolling in The Deep. All handsome guys as talented as they are hot. The band name is a take on well hung – which they also live up to.

Another  SYTYCD discovery was David J. Roch: Skin & Bones (Bonus Track Version) – another of those aching voices full of longing, emotional need & arching melodies that allow for the dancers’ reach deep into the dark striving to grasp the unreachable. Malo: Celebracion: a collection of singles from a nearly forgotten 70’s latino band that sprung up in the shadow of Santana – more rootsy & funky than Santana. More about them when we get to ‘m.’

Wait there’s even more on this over 8 hour mp3 collection: Jungle – modern dance music that I read about in Entertainment Weekly a year or so ago & I wasn’t disappointed. Diverting & a nice balance to the emotional overwrought Smith & Roch. Finally a fine set of remixes & originals out of Royksopp: Late Night Tales.

Vermets

The squeak of sneakers echoed around the gymnasium.

Squeak plod plod squeak thump thump plod plod squeak squeak.

The two teams moved back and forth across the basketball court.

Squeak plod plod squeak thump thump plod plod squeak squeak.

Caliban threw the ball to Lear. It fell short and bounced up to hit him in the face. I didn’t know if I should laugh or be alarmed.

The ball bounced from his face to his still moving foot which sent it arcing into rafters. For the first time I looked up, way up, to the roof of the auditorium. The ball was lost in the dark past the lighting grid.

‘Good one Lear.’

‘Yeah this isn’t soccer ya know.’

‘Bet yer balls never flew that high.’

The other team teased as they waited for the ball to return. There was a dull hollow bump as it hit somewhere in the gloom above us. A few flakes of disturbed dust floated down but no ball.

‘Don’t tell me you’ve re-written the laws of gravity. Not so hard for you to do, is it.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Caliban stood chest to chest with Frastine captain of the other team.

‘You two are, shall we say, already unnatural.’

‘Oh yeah!’

‘Yeah!’

Lear pulled them apart. ‘Grow up! Both of you.’

The ball thumped to the ground. It was covered with random bite marks.

‘Oh so that’s it.’ Frastine wiped the ball clean. ‘You got the Vermets up there on your side. Trust you two to start calling on the little forces.’

‘Trust you not to.’ Caliban started to walk away.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘It means let’s get this game back on track.’ Lear took the ball and turned it around in his hands before he gave it a few test dribbles. ‘Seems to have bounce enough. Here we’ll give you guys the advantage.’

He threw the ball to Frastine.

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November 1-30

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