‘Song 2’ – Clare Holman- Hobbs
It’s the sweat, screaming slick beat that begins to sooth our aching feet.
It’s the ‘oh my god no way’ and the calculation, that we’ll meet these two magnets joined as one and my heart that begins to race.
It’s the thought that maybe this is remedy enough, to remind me that some good things come to those who wait. That maybe I won’t be blinded anymore by this poisonous need, and so I’m reminded it’s fucking wahoo indeed.
‘Song 2’ – Rob Hicks
It’s about another time, another place It’s about being young and loving life.
It’s about that one single perfect moment that happened every week.
It’s a dark place full of flashing lights
It’s a cue for us all to bounce like there’s no tomorrow
It’s a movement that we belong to, and yet look at jealously from the outside
It’s the same as it has been for twenty years
It’s almost the same, as long as we try
It’s different.
It will never be the same
‘Song 2’ – Oslo Iversen
It’s the front bedroom of a house that still smells of newbuild
It’s a mid-90s boombox on stacked VHS tapes, big toe jammed in gap between radiator and windowsill
It’s ‘The Death of a party’ more than this, that time, all early sunsets, Carling cans in communal kitchens, sandwich bags bulging with flour and eggs and pitched onto building sites
(It’s all the bad moments filtered out, the residue of good on the surface)
It’s playing ‘Is there anybody out there?’ on a guitar that won’t stay in tune, to a girl from Iran whose intentions were unclear/ clear
It’s before, during, and after these events, pogo-dancing in smoke-stenched clubs: that blissful last half hour when the R&B had stopped
It’s rhythm guitar in a band I pinned all my hopes on in a late trepanned summer
It is, therefore, the globe I imagined in a wardrobe, shut up and secured with chains
And it’s the news update of the man adrift in space that I heard in a half-sleep and wasn’t sure if I imagined.
Splendid Fred Magazine 