𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 - this week: Fuss - Patrik Ahlm
- Charles Connolly
- 5 days ago
- 9 min read
Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, 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 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.
𝙁𝙪𝙨𝙨 - 𝙋𝙖𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙠 𝘼𝙝𝙡𝙢
Charles lost his soul…
The other night I rediscovered jazz. I had one little melody stuck in my head but I couldn’t think what it was. I was sure it was something from jazz singer Stacey Kent. I scanned through her entire discography. I was wrong. In my head it was both old and relatively new sounding. It wasn’t quite the old grainy jazz of the late 40s and early 50s, but it also didn’t quite have the lustre and close sparkle of newer jazz. I was mainly a bit stuck because I knew that I knew it extremely well, and yet I know VERY little jazz… At first I thought this melody (which introduces the song - I knew THAT much) was piano, but I quickly realised it was saxophone (or trumpet - I just couldn't quite solidify it in my mind). I had the feel of the playing, but I still couldn't be definite about the sound. It bugged me for a good half hour. I even tried many Miles Davis tracks, hoping it was either his own trumpet playing, or perhaps John Coltrane on the saxophone. Still couldn't find it. Something suddenly clicked. I got it instantly. It was Paul Desmond playing the sax. The sound was cemented in my mind and I knew that had to mean one thing. It was a Dave Brubeck song. I have only ever had one album by Brubeck. But it's an album you all own in one way or an other. Literally each and every one of you has this LP in your possession. And yet, you will all have different versions by different artists. So different that it's impossible to believe they share the same title. I personally have loads of copies by numerous artists. Any guesses for the title of said album? No...? All right, I'll tell you. It's called Greatest Hits. Despite this song I was searching for apparently being on his 1963 album Bossa Nova USA, I only knew it from his 1966 Greatest Hits album. And I cannot imagine how many times I have played this record. It must be hundreds. I know almost every single note of every solo. And yet… I have never really been into jazz…
I had a fab Friday evening, out with my old schoolfriend. Then a fab Saturday of wandering with my lovely lady, finally rounded off with this silly Brubeck saga. For some reason it was fond. Can’t explain it. Sunday was pretty uneventful. Bits and bobs. Getting things done - you know how it is. Then came the evening. I was calm, pretty content, and looking forward to a delicious dinner cooked by my dear sweet lady. I had just poured the vino, and was about to put on some soft music, the plates touched the table, and things dramatically shifted. From completely out of nowhere, I got the very sudden beginnings of a migraine. I won’t go into details, but let’s just say my (quite rare) migraines are rather more than a severe headache. The timing was quite incredible. We were so looking forward to that lovely evening. And that lovely nosh! It was as if I had lost my soul. Like the most horrendous comedown after a load of illegal god-knows-what. Not that I would know about anything like that. I wanted to eat, and I just wanted everything to be like it had been just before this all came about. But most of all, I wanted my soul back. I sat, I lay, I sat again. I tried thinking. That didn’t work. I knew that I would just have to give it time to settle and pass, and so I did. Eventually, once some of the symptoms had subsided, I ate the nourishment that once was hot, but still was delicious, and I sat some more. The vino, of course, lay undisturbed; the glass: untilted. I was determined to not have the entire evening robbed from me, and to still somehow regain my soul from somewhere, wherever that might be.
My music mind turned to something I had quietly been looking forward to listening to for a little while. Perhaps only since the Brubeck saga, but perhaps longer. It is probably my favourite piece by Miles Davis, but neither written nor arranged by him. Written by Joaquín Rodrigo and arranged by Gil Evans, Concierto de Aranjuez is quite frankly one of the most moving pieces of music I know. But despite it being written for classical guitar (and despite Rodrigo being a pianist), it never moves me as much as when played by Miles Davis and his rather large band of merry men. A 22-piece orchestra, really. Concierto de Aranjuez (Adagio) lies as the headpiece/flagstone/foundation/masterpiece of Miles Davis’ Sketches of Spain album. Over the course of its 16 minutes or-so, it takes me many places that mere music shouldn’t manage. Or rather, rarely manages. Deep in my deepest headache, music should not have been the best option, but in my case it simply was. It was my only option. It not only allowed me to find my soul, but showed me sides about which I had completely forgotten. It was tempting, luring, and even fascinating. But most of all, calming. It put me back where I belong. The vino remained as calm and unrippled as I. That glass of wine was still untouched, while I was not only touched but moved. I was within the music. My soul came back to me and held me tight. Everything was going to be okay.
After multiple other Miles Davis albums (In a Silent Way, Quiet Nights, Birth of the Cool etc.), I started thinking. Why? WHY did this uncomfortable episode come to me? And so unexpectedly. Was I stressed? Was I worried or concerned about something? Why did my soul decide to go on holiday and leave me without so much as a note? I was completely fine! I was fit, healthy and pretty content. Maybe I WAS stressed about something, but it had become so normal to me that it didn’t even register… We’re always stressed these days, most of us. There is just so much fuss over everything these days that it can make our blood boil and our veins pop (hopefully not literally). Have I been burying things deep down inside for a long time, to the point where even EYE am not aware? Fuss, fuss, fuss. Everything has such so-called importance these days. As if one wrong move from you and the entire world will implode. Frankly put: it's silly. Take these articles, for example. Is it absolutely imperative that they be completely and utterly perfect in every single way? Whadda ya think? If you chose “Yes”, you’d be rrrrrrong. Is it important to ME that they reach my own personal standards? Well, yes. But not if it breaks me. Spoiler alert: sometimes it does a bit. But all in all, it’s just a nice little (large) interesting thing to read while discovering a new song by a great artist. It ain’t too much of a big dealio. Sometimes though, it does slightly astound me when I don’t even hear from the artist I review… It sort of makes me wonder why I bother. Not because I want praise or even gratitude, but sometimes a few nice words in private can mean a lot. Artists have to be deserving of this once weekly barrage of heaped praise. All those shares and listens. All that attention! It's embarrassing when readers' comments are twelve times longer than the artist's own public monosyllabic "thanks”. Or sometimes it's literally simply zero...! Unlike Miles Davis, this does not move my soul. It might seem like I’m fussing over nothing, but few of you can imagine how much of my life has been spent on these weekly scribblings. Maybe some of you can see what all the fuss is about.
And so, let’s move on to a far more appreciative artist. One who actually deserves such praise and coverage. Hence my going back to this old favourite, time and time again. I’d like to fuss about something else. In a good way. Something with soul. Something that continued to release my soul into bloom. Something called Patrik Ahlm. SomeONE, sorry. A very real being. This time, he’s fussing over not fussing. It’s his long-awaited new single, Fuss. I say “long-awaited” because I always eagerly await the next single by Patrik, and it always feels long (despite not being so). I won’t bother to introduce him, because you all know him well. He’s Swedish and he’s brilliant. That’s about all you need to know. THE END! No, I’ll go a little further than that. This time, he has done what he so often does. He has done something different. This is one of two things that I love about Patrik. That we never know what we’re going to get next. The other thing I love is that he is always brilliant. I have never known him to stick with a certain style, sound or genre. I have never known him to dip in quality. These two wondrous traits are rare anywhere in the music industry (if such a thing still exists). Most artists seem to be becoming complacent. Comfortable within their nook. Their nook being dull to begin with. But every new song of theirs feels like a new coat of mid-blue. As if anything else would destroy the ambient perfection. If by “destroy”, they mean break through the monotony, then YES!! That is exactly what it needs! Patrik, however, never really stuck with one colour in the first place. Each new project begins with a perusal of his wide-ranging palette. He sees one colour, sees another, wonder if there’s something in between green and blue, then eventually settles on purple. A kind of purple he has never used before, fresh from the tube.
This time he’s our soul man. But not ‘Sam & Dave’ kinda soul. No, no, no. More the soul of the 80s and 90s. But also the “RnB” of the 00s. There’s a bit of George Michael, a bit of Stevie Wonder, a bit of Seal, a bit of Boyz II Men, a bit of Michael Jackson and even a bit of acid jazz too. Lots of bits. But possibly most, I hear quite a bit of our dear departed NASian friend, Kyle M Watson. I still shed a tear for dear Kyle every once in a while. Of course, there is that token gesture in way of Gary Barlow, but much less so this time. Who would ever have thought that Patrik would go down the route of slinky soul? The only reason I could possibly see this coming, is the fact that I didn’t see it coming. That’s what he does. Basically anything. And you just KNOW it gonh’ be gooood. George Michael, Stevie Wonder and Seal have something in common with Patrik Ahlm… Unbelievable, original songwriting talent. True musicians. Complicated and clever music disguised within its own simplicity. But once this astounding writing talent is paired with Patrik’s singing and playing prowess, it is invisible stitching from our resident seamster. The synths and strings are his own programming, as is the drums. The electric piano, guitars and 5-string (but of course) bass are all played by him. The vocals could be nothing but him (as we all knew), and those sax parts…? Well, they are as you might have surmised: real. But not quite. Someone did indeed play that sax, but not him, and not quite like that. This was something that he had “found”. Ya know, when you’re cleaning the house, and you stumble upon the odd old saxophone solo. Happens all the time!! He thought it had potential, and so went to the chopping board in his kitchen. Trimmed the excess fat, diced it into a different order, and made it fit just right. Give an artist anything, and they will make art from it. He’s like a scientific artist. The mathematical kind, but with soul. And plenty of it! This is major. Major 7th, to be precise.
With all the music that is attempting to grab my attention, the thing that succeeded wasn’t even trying. I wasn’t looking for something to smack me in the face. I needed soothing. I needed soul. While Miles did his duty, I needed someone to continue that theme. But it couldn’t just be drifty. This needed to be happily slotted into my short-term memory. An ear-worm that didn’t irritate. Souls, once found, do not need irritation. Apologies, Patrik, for not going into more detail with your music, but my little brain needs a rest from the screen. Besides, your song will now be plastered everywhere for all to see, and you will be most grateful and extremely appreciative. I just know that.
Like I said: Swedish and brilliant.
Patrik Ahlm is definitely a mate. But finally I can literally call him my soulmate. If not, I can always just fuss off. He won’t give a fuss.
Listen to 𝙁𝙪𝙨𝙨 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Spotify playlist HERE!
Listen to 𝙁𝙪𝙨𝙨 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Apple Music playlist HERE!
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