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๐—–๐—ผ๐—ป๐—ป๐—ผ๐—น๐—น๐˜†โ€™๐˜€ ๐—–๐—ผ๐—ฟ๐—ป๐—ฒ๐—ฟ - 100th review: Spotlight - Charles Connolly

Welcome all to ๐—–๐—ผ๐—ป๐—ป๐—ผ๐—น๐—น๐˜†โ€™๐˜€ ๐—–๐—ผ๐—ฟ๐—ป๐—ฒ๐—ฟ, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly - an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of ๐™‰๐™š๐™ฌ ๐˜ผ๐™ง๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™จ๐™ฉ ๐™Ž๐™ฅ๐™ค๐™ฉ๐™ก๐™ž๐™œ๐™๐™ฉ playlists.


๐™Ž๐™ฅ๐™ค๐™ฉ๐™ก๐™ž๐™œ๐™๐™ฉ - ๐˜พ๐™๐™–๐™ง๐™ก๐™š๐™จ ๐˜พ๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™ฃ๐™ค๐™ก๐™ก๐™ฎ


Charles writes about everything and nothing for an entire centuryโ€ฆ


It all started in a red Mercedes with Veronica. This was to be my legacy. Merhabalar (hello, how are you) seemed like a good way to start, as I didn't want to seem blue over you - at least not so soon. Another week, another story. If I wrote about love, I'd hear you plead "don't break my heart" - as if I would do such a thing. But hold on, if I were to see my lover again, my dreams of another summer of romance would come true. If Xaligha is the demon of dissonance then I am to be the arrow of love. Never mind the colour of my panties, or whatever I choose to write about that week, just hold me. Hold my hand as I walk deep into my very own dungeon - we're like family now, no? Again and again, every week I write like a groundhog may or may not, as I attempt to create a capricho รrabe - an Arabic style of architectural fantasy. But as that's something I don't know about, I might not always succeed. Some weeks you may open up the pages and wish for me to stop, but I keep holding on to my position with pride and with blind ego. Maybe that's a mistake on my part - cue the Boo-Boo song...! Or maybe I should get a little tipsy, forget all my troubles and play the Birthday song. Another year, another birthday. You can't stop time, but time allows you to think. It makes me think about all the artists I have reviewed, met and known through the New Artist Spotlight. And truly, you're in my blood, all of you.


With an empty mind, I sit, wondering what to write about. You may like what I write, but I'm not a perfect boy. Sure, I like to take the world with me, but I donโ€™t know, I just like to think of us all being together forever: one big happy family. But it can be tough, doing it alone. Thereโ€™s some mental self-help involved: โ€œbelieve in yourself, keep goingโ€, but the passing of time is ever present, falling away like stones from a cliffโ€™s edge. Sometimes I just want to pack it in and go to Europe in the summertime, but I must be ruthless and not give up. YOU taught me and showed me the feeling of a completed piece, like the contentment and satisfaction of a beautiful sunset as the day comes to a close. It's no wonder they call me "Sunset Daddy"! I suppose in my own humble way, I live for YOU! Itโ€™s not just about making it interesting to read, but to amuse in (hopefully) a somewhat unique way. Sometimes I will play with language: rather than saying โ€œthe second night was also goodโ€, I might word it as โ€œNite Rite nโ€™ .2โ€, just to keep you on your toes. Or sometimes I might invent characters, like my cleaner: sheโ€™s called Grace. She isnโ€™t called Grace, and neither do I have a cleaner, but it all helps to make the read a little more fun. Some readers might assume I am paid for these โ€œreviewsโ€, but believe me, there ainโ€™t no cash money, honey.


So when will I stop doing these reviews? Well, call it superstition, but I think even if I were to go blind, or at least colourblind, I would continue writing, in one way or another. It feels almost like betrayal to cease. I mean, just imagine what would happen to my mindโ€ฆ Would it shrivel? Why I reach new heights of delirium? As superstitious and spiritual as I might seem, I am far from reading tea leaves, believe me. Whether in Easter or in December, I will make sure to beam you up on a weekly basis, like the proverbial motherships in all those cheesy sci-fi classics. It would surely be with a heavy heart if I were to announce my stepping down. But with the hope that that day never comes, I will endeavour to reach the A plus every time (whether I succeed or not). I mean, I would hate to fall into the abyss of C minors, D minors or even F# major seventhsโ€ฆ! Otherwise, Houston, we have a problemโ€ฆ But enough of the Sci and also the Fi, letโ€™s come back to reality. Nature. Letโ€™s stroll back into the wilderness. Every single night is cold but fresh, as we say โ€œbyeโ€ to the city. Our eyelids, softly falling. Just as you start to reach the land of slumber, you are sharply awoken by the mother of ghosts! Itโ€™s just a dream. Just a dream. My tribe (thatโ€™s you) and I are at peace out here. Gone is the harsh gossip of โ€œI guess I donโ€™t love youโ€, uttered coarsely from the lips of a fake smile. We are ignored out here, and happy to be so!


If I give you presents in the form of a weekly getaway, will you allow yourself a brief interlude in your busy schedule to unwrap them? That is all I ask. I canโ€™t promise I wonโ€™t mention my panties again, but I hope at least to give you a decent time. Personally, Iโ€™d rather be dying in a fairytale than living in reality - I suppose thatโ€™s the bittersweet nature of fiction and storytelling. In some ways I feel like the ghost in that dream. A sort of floating artist: call it an airtist. Cutting through the fuggy mess of now, and creating some form of clarity, if only to hide the scar within. And donโ€™t for a moment think you owe me. If anything, I.O.U.! Iโ€™m not angelic, but Iโ€™m certainly no demon. Some of you may think I donโ€™t care a jot, but how could I possibly be writing my 100th piece if I didnโ€™t?? Others of you may wonder how I choose my pick of the week and whether the artists have to submit music to me. There is no process in place, I am simply always lurking; wandering in the shadows. Whatever music you make, whether it be for the โ€œDosie Issneun Daenamusupโ€ international composition prize or whether you just do it for fun, I will be listening. The New Artist Spotlight has given me a new way of listening to music. I canโ€™t quite explain it, but it makes me so happy. All this talent in one neatly packaged bundle is so refreshing because of the contrast from one song to the next. Not in terms of quality, but in genre. Each track feels like a brand new day. I suppose this is what happens when artists collide. I also love when weโ€™re all in total agreement and we have similar tastes: when you KNOW that a song is an instant classic, you KNOW Iโ€™ll have the same feeling. The kind of song you can listen to from morning to night, and from night to day. Pure bliss.


I should probably let you go now, as I know how busy most of you are, but I must keep you captive in my furgรณn a little longer. Thatโ€™s van in Hungarian. Yes, thatโ€™s another thing I seem to do in my weekly musings: randomly insert little bits of foreign speak. Not that I speak anything but English. Crazy me? Crazy U for reading it! Sometimes I like to opt for a subtler way of speaking, whilst still (hopefully) clearly getting my point across. Like quiet drums, intimate kisses or even, whispering bells. But why ever NOT?? Weโ€™re only here once. Why not enjoy the sensitive watercolour as much as the rich oil? "Viva La Vita", I always say. Well, I donโ€™t always say that, because that would probably rather make you want to kill me. And Iโ€™m not a fan of death. Hence why the violence on and destruction of this big little planet of ours hurts me so much. Weโ€™ve all heard of the vanishing of bees, but letโ€™s hope we never encounter such a time, because itโ€™s just not worth it. I donโ€™t mean to get all preachy or anything. I mean, Iโ€™m not perfect. Hell, Iโ€™m probably not even good! Maybe Iโ€™m completely invisible to you and youโ€™ve never clapped eyes on a single word of my column. Actually, I saw this invisible girl the other day. I say โ€œgirlโ€, it was more like two souls in one. As I wandered past, I felt the singular duo whisper the words, โ€œI miss you...โ€ - it was really rather eerie and I have no explanation! But coming back to my writing, I try to craft it so it hooks you in. You know, an intro like โ€œThis is how the story beginsโ€ฆโ€, and then go from there. Ultimately though, I just write what I write with the hope that it will ease your day, even slightly. Iโ€™m not the arcane muse or anything! YOUโ€™RE the muses. What could I possibly say without your fabulous musicโ€ฆ? I canโ€™t always be writing about Epoch 2140, can I!! Your music frames my words. You set up the easel, you give me the inspiration, you tell me your secret. Only then can I paint. The arrangement is almost as perfect as the American dream!


I have shone the spotlight on so many of you week after week for so long, with the occasional (and wonderful) help from Pancham (Pancham_b) and Brad (Mercury Teardrop). And so, Number 100 brings my dedication to all that has given me everything in the last two years. I give you my ode to the New Artist Spotlight. It is my turn for the spotlight, as a pat on the back for bothering to bother. But by now you no doubt know the song well, so will probably be relieved to hear that I wonโ€™t be talking about it in the slightest. Except for a brief thank you to those 19 other NAS artists singing in the chorus. Thank you. Hope youโ€™re not too sick of it yet! This is not about me, but about the greatest organisation I have ever been a part of. Admittedly the only one I have ever cared aboutโ€ฆ! I feel extremely lucky and privileged to be a longterm member of the New Artist Spotlight, and it would quite literally be nothing without each and every one of you. The sum of its parts and all that. But a particular thank you to Ed Eagle and his myriad of merry moderators. As one had an idea, the others helped to make sure it came to fruition, and didnโ€™t fall to pieces in the process.


I can only hope you have enjoyed reading the first 100 pieces as much as I have enjoyed writing them. I still canโ€™t quite believe ๐—–๐—ผ๐—ป๐—ป๐—ผ๐—น๐—น๐˜†โ€™๐˜€ ๐—–๐—ผ๐—ฟ๐—ป๐—ฒ๐—ฟ has reached 100โ€ฆ! So why do I write the way I write? Some might blame the parentsโ€ฆ I blame the panties.


Thank you for having me.


Listen to ๐™Ž๐™ฅ๐™ค๐™ฉ๐™ก๐™ž๐™œ๐™๐™ฉ on the ๐—–๐—ผ๐—ป๐—ป๐—ผ๐—น๐—น๐˜†โ€™๐˜€ ๐—–๐—ผ๐—ฟ๐—ป๐—ฒ๐—ฟ Spotify playlist HERE!

Listen to ๐™Ž๐™ฅ๐™ค๐™ฉ๐™ก๐™ž๐™œ๐™๐™ฉ on the ๐—–๐—ผ๐—ป๐—ป๐—ผ๐—น๐—น๐˜†โ€™๐˜€ ๐—–๐—ผ๐—ฟ๐—ป๐—ฒ๐—ฟ Apple Music playlist HERE!


Follow ๐˜พ๐™๐™–๐™ง๐™ก๐™š๐™จ ๐˜พ๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™ฃ๐™ค๐™ก๐™ก๐™ฎ on Instagram HERE!

Hire ๐˜พ๐™๐™–๐™ง๐™ก๐™š๐™จ to mix/master/produce your song HERE!


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