I’ve been watching David Bowie; in his middle period albums, tracks like Fashion [we are the goon squad & we’re coming to town] he and the band make a gesture with the right hand from up high, swooping down to earth to touch its surface, a gesture of reverence, referencing the psychic energy of the planet. Ashes to ashes: I’ve never done good things, I’ve never done bad things, I never did anything out of the blue…
Meanwhile Depeche Mode sings: Oh girl, lead me into yr darkness when this world is trying to leave me unimpressed, with one caress from you & I’m blessed.”
Then the wonderful Megan Washington sings Holy Moses. Dark, plangent chords from all three; African-ness dark & pure. I remember staying overnight at a textile conference in Orange NSW; the women had with one consent elected themselves an African Apollo whom they liberally and lusciously worshipped, like the Bacchantes they secretly desired to be. He cooked some African food for them, the most yang tasting food I’ve ever tried, like hydrogen peroxide, so dourly caustic on the tongue.
The remembered food taste is an objective co-relative of the music, taking us to a hitherto unexplored place.