Welcome all to ๐๐ผ๐ป๐ป๐ผ๐น๐น๐โ๐ ๐๐ผ๐ฟ๐ป๐ฒ๐ฟ, 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 ๐๐๐ฌ ๐ผ๐ง๐ฉ๐๐จ๐ฉ ๐๐ฅ๐ค๐ฉ๐ก๐๐๐๐ฉ playlists.
๐๐๐๐ฟ (๐ผ ๐ก๐๐ฉ๐ฉ๐๐ง ๐ฉ๐ค ๐ข๐ฎ ๐๐ง๐๐ฃ๐๐ข๐ค๐ฉ๐๐๐ง) - ๐๐ฎ๐ก๐ ๐ ๐๐๐ฉ๐จ๐ค๐ฃ
Charles goes back two generationsโฆ
Parents. We canโt avoid them. We canโt ignore them. They are always an important and major part of everyoneโs life. For some, they are very much around whether you want it or not. For others, they are a memory. Some of us will love or have loved our parents. Some will love one and resent the other. It is rare to not be close to at least one of them. But the one thing none of you will feel for them is nothing. There is a connection. We all have this in common. Grandparents on the other hand, well, this is where correlations are hard to draw. Many of you will be (or have been) very fond of your grandparents. Very close indeed. But others of you will have barely known them. This is the biggest genetic problem with them: they are usually so bloody old! Bit of a shame, not to mention a bugger. Theyโre usually the nice ones. The lenient ones. The ones who let you get away with things that your parents wouldnโt allow. Why? Because they want to be loved, and they want to see the love in the childโs eyes. And because they never have to deal with the aftermath of little Tommy eating too many sweets:
โYou mustnโt let him eat so many sweets. You know how he getsโ, says the parent.
โOh, you always fuss. Heโs happy. I didnโt turn out bad, did I?โ, replies the grandparent.
โOnly because when you were his age, sweets were rationed!โ, exclaims the parent.
The grandparent smiles wryly while batting the air with a swift hand, knowing theyโll both be leaving soon, and the peace can resume.
I have been without grandparents now for 17 years. Makes me feel rather old, despite being only in my thirties (I can say that for around 5 months). Rather strangely, I was closest to the one who died when I was 4. Itโs an Italian thang. I say I was โclosestโ; I suppose I mean I feel the most fondness in hindsight. One grandparent passed when I was minus 31, one went away when I was 4, another left for the sky a couple of years later, and the remaining one just kept on going. Decade after decade, despite having severe illness for around 70 years. These debilitating ailments of my grandmother made it difficult to enjoy her company - how terribly selfish of her (I probably thought, being a typical viewless young oaf). She was kind, she was caring, she wanted so much to enjoy the time with her grandchild, but she just couldnโt. And did I do all I could to make her comfortable and make her happy? Nope. I looked for ways to amuse myself, while occasionally wanting to pluck her long rogue whiskers. But her hair was always immaculate. She cared about appearances (as that generation did). That bright white bouffant of comfortably wavy perm. It was frankly all she had. She used to play the piano, and had an upright in the corner of the room. But it was little more than a sanitised shelf for medication by the time I was born. I never heard her play it.
2006 was a funny year for me - not haha funny. While most of you were listening to Gnarlz Barkleyโs Crazy, Arctic Monkeysโ When the Sun Goes Down, Snow Patrolโs Chasing Cars, and Lily Allenโs Smile, I was feeling different. I too was dancing around to these hits and many more, but something had hit me. I was not bereaved and in a deep state of sadness, but deeply pensive. I thought she would live forever. I had pretty much resigned myself to that notion; the stupid oaf that I was. But the point was, at the age of 22, I had no grandparents left. It felt weird. It felt isolating. My small family had shrunk by only one, yet it felt so much smaller. A generation was gone. This generation lived through both World Wars, for Godโs sake! While my parents were making funeral arrangements, I was at home, writing a song for this dear sweet lady. In truth, it was actually for my mother, for she was (understandably) the most affected by this inevitable departure. This dear sweet lady was her mother. Always a connection, you see. This song was called โDonโt Let Sadness Bring You Downโ, and was played at the old ladyโs funeral. My mother didnโt listen to my advice though: as the song played, she wept. Wept with a haunting yelp that I will never forget. Ach, Iโm sorry - I just broke slightly. Had to pause writing. Let me compose myself. Wipe wipe, blow nose, deep breath in. There we are. All better. My apologies. Anyway. I held her as she gave in to her feelings. โLet it outโ, they say. โLet it outโ is right. But EYE had to be brave. I had to be strong for my mother. Couldnโt have the entire Connolly family in a puddle of tears. We werenโt even wearing wellies! I shall move on now.
2023 marks the 10th anniversary of the loss of Kyle M Watsonโs grandmother, Enid. Back in 2013, while others were listening to Daft Punk & Pharrell Williamsโ Get Lucky, Drakeโs Started From the Bottom, Miley Cyrusโ Wrecking Ball, and Robin Thicke & Pharrell Williamsโ Blurred Lines (Pharrell really was pick of the pops back then), Kyle was in mourning. Deep mourning. He wasnโt able to groove to these tunes at all, for his was a different groove. One chiseled so deep it felt like starting from the bottom, without a rope. You see, Kyleโs grandmother lived with him and his mother. So Enidโs flight had left a void. A hole. An empty chair where love once sat. Enid was more like a second mother to Kyle, as his mother was out working most of the time. They lived in Barbados, known for its strong family values. It is clear this family was no exception. There is always that connection. A bond stronger than Loctite. A love greater than most. So when one of the family ceases to be, it is truly gut-wrenching for all. Having moved to New York at the age of 18 with his father, Kyle was all grown up and far away from Barbados life. But this didnโt mean he was ridding himself of it. Lord, no! So when news hit the big city, it started his decade of fond memories. Most days Enid passes through Kyleโs mind, even to this day. When someone dies, you are of course struck and truly flummoxed by grief. You are lost and disconnected from the world. Tears come, and tears come again. But over time, you relearn how to do life. When one life stops, others must continue. This grief turns into memories. Fondness ensues. You start to become a little more positive. You think about the good things. The beauty of that person, rather than dwelling on that person not existing anymore.
Kyleโs brand new release is about just this. โENID (A letter to my grandmother)โ is a piece of sheer beauty. True, heartfelt beauty. It seems that Enid was not happy or content through her life. That she regretted not having enjoyed life more. Did she therefore take it out on others and make their lives as miserable as her own? Absolutely not. She realised the importance of happiness and tried to make sure that others didnโt make the same mistakes she did. Anotherโs smile would in turn make her smile. Smiling is a happy contagion. She saw this grandchild of hers, and wanted to please him. She wanted him to smile and enjoy life. He took note. Kyle carries her wishes with him wherever he goes. It just makes sense! Why live a life of misery when itโs the only one weโve got? If it makes you happy, youโve done well. If it brings you peace, youโve done well. THIS is a life worth living. So was Enidโs unhappy life wasted? Perhaps initially it was not lived to its full potential, but soon enough she was bringing joy and wisdom to many. Most of all, her grandchild.
Weโre all artists here. How many parents have suggested that art isnโt perhaps the best route to take? While they may want the best for you in terms of career, they are perhaps not looking at the contentment side of things. That satisfying positive energy that the creation of art brings. We can all have a โnormalโ job on the side, but itโs the art that makes us happy. Kyle is fulfilling Enidโs wishes in being happy in his life, but also something else. He wanted so much for her to be happy. To make her proud. I touched on this thought in the penultimate track of my upcoming album (in the works as we speak). To be proud is one thing. But to make someone else proud of you is another. I donโt mean support or love. I mean pride. For Enid to smugly claim, โTHIS is my grandson!โ, will in turn (I have no doubt) make Kyle proud, and happy. One learns from oneโs mistakes, and passes on the info - itโs only natural - โso you donโt have toโ!
Kyle M Watson has somehow managed to stay away from my Corner all these years. Despite consistently releasing quality track after quality track. Kyle, I hope you werenโt offended, saddened or disappointed, so here I am righting a wrong. I so nearly reviewed and talked about the chap many times. With every song he has released, frankly. But something told me that THIS would be the one to review. When I heard it for the first time, I knew instantly that I was right. It swoons and sways. It is sad yet warm. It is the feeling of a lost loved one. The piano, the strings, the deep beats that heave like a shipโs sails. And the voice. Kyle has the most soulful male voice on the New Artist Spotlight. Itโs not just about him having a stunning voice. Itโs the experience he has in singing and in living life. Itโs just so clear and real. I have no doubt: Enid would be proud. She is proud.
And hereโs to proud 39 year olds!
You can blame the parents, but you can rarely blame the grandparents.
Although they must have got their sweets on the black market - why else would they all have denturesโฆ?
Listen to ๐๐๐๐ฟ (๐ผ ๐ก๐๐ฉ๐ฉ๐๐ง ๐ฉ๐ค ๐ข๐ฎ ๐๐ง๐๐ฃ๐๐ข๐ค๐ฉ๐๐๐ง) on the ๐๐ผ๐ป๐ป๐ผ๐น๐น๐โ๐ ๐๐ผ๐ฟ๐ป๐ฒ๐ฟ Spotify playlist HERE!
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