Det förlorade året

Ibland när allt skakar, när avstånden mellan oss människor bara tycks öka och gamla misstag återupprepas in absurdum blir min frustration oöverkomlig. Den lägger sig som ett blött och mögligt gammalt täcke över min tro på framåtanda, öppenhet och den lilla kärna av progressivitet som jag är övertygad finns inom de flesta av oss.

I de stunderna vänder jag mig till musiken och märker att den ofta inte kan ge mig det jag behöver. Hur jag en gör blir resultatet handlingsförlamning eller en kvardröjande känsla av uppgivenhet.

Men i de mest dystra stunder kan musiken ta tillfället i akt och använda situationen till något starkt. Som Kate Tempest singel »Europe is lost«. Den är ett kusligt skarpsynt tidsdokument i slutet av ett 2015 där ignoransen, rädslan och vilsenheten är större än någonsin och där allt ändå fortsätter i samma hjulspår.

Det är en mörk betraktelse över ett Europa som är förlorat. En text som överträffar de flesta av det senaste årets politiska och samhälleliga analyser. Musiken är avskalad – ett enkelt beat, några sparsmakade gitarrackord och en basgång som låter som en trasig ventilationstrumma. Det finns knappt en melodi att urskilja.

Men som i de flesta vassa samhällskritiska texter finns här en ilska. En uppmaning att inte bara protestera mot en allt dystrare tidsanda utan att även visa möjligheten i den ilska som de rådande omständigheterna väcker.

I Kate Tempest skarpa ordflöde och nära röst finns en nyckel, en rastlös ovilja som kan få oss att tro att saker och ting kommer att bli bättre. Att vi ska kasta bort det gamla. Att det går att bygga upp samförstånd och gemenskap igen. »Europe is lost« är lika mycket en dånande larmrapport i en domedagslik slutfas som en möjlighet till en vändpunkt.

Det är en av årets viktigaste låtar.

/

»Europe is lost, America lost, London is lost,
Still we are clamouring victory.
All that is meaningless rules,
And we have learned nothing from history.

People are dead in their lifetimes,
Dazed in the shine of the streets.
But look how the traffic keeps moving.
The system’s too slick to stop working.
Business is good. And there’s bands every night in the pubs,
And there’s two for one drinks in the clubs.

We scrubbed up well
We washed off the work and the stress
Now all we want’s some excess
Better yet; A night to remember that we’ll soon forget.

All of the blood that was shed for these cities to grow,
All of the bodies that fell.
The roots that were dug from the ground
So these games could be played
I see it tonight in the stains on my hands.

The buildings are screaming
I cant ask for help though, nobody knows me,
Hostile and worried and lonely.
We move in our packs and these are the rites we were born to
Working and working so we can be all that we want
Then dancing the drudgery off
But even the drugs have got boring.
Well, sex is still good when you get it.

To sleep, to dream, to keep the dream in reach
To each a dream,
Don’t weep, don’t scream,
Just keep it in,
Keep sleeping in
What am I gonna do to wake up?

I feel the cost of it pushing my body
Like I push my hands into pockets
And softly I walk and I see it, it’s all we deserve
The wrongs of our past have resurfaced
Despite all we did to vanquish the traces
My very language is tainted
With all that we stole to replace it with this,
I am quiet,
Feeling the onset of riot.
But riots are tiny though,
Systems are huge,
The traffic keeps moving, proving there’s nothing to do.

It’s big business baby and its smile is hideous.
Top down violence, structural viciousness.
Your kids are doped up on medical sedatives.
But don’t worry bout that. Worry bout terrorists.

The water levels rising! The water levels rising!
The animals, the polarbears, the elephants are dying!
Stop crying. Start buying.
But what about the oil spill?
Shh. No one likes a party pooping spoil sport.

Massacres massacres massacres/new shoes
Ghettoised children murdered in broad daylight by those employed to protect them.
Live porn streamed to your pre-teens bedrooms.
Glass ceiling, no headroom. Half a generation live beneath the breadline.

Oh but it’s happy hour on the high street,
Friday night at last lads, my treat!
All went fine till that kid got glassed in the last bar,
Place went nuts, you can ask our Lou,
It was madness, the road ran red, pure claret.
And about them immigrants? I cant stand them.
Mostly, I mind my own business.
But they’re only coming over here to get rich.
It’s a sickness.
England! England!
Patriotism!

And you wonder why kids want to die for religion?

Work all your life for a pittance,
Maybe you’ll make it to manager,
Pray for a raise
Cross the beige days off on your beach babe calendar.

Anarchists desperate for something to smash
Scandalous pictures of glamorous rappers in fashionable magazines
Who’s dating who?
Politico cash in an envelope
Caught sniffing lines off a prostitutes prosthetic tits,
And it’s back to the house of lords with slapped wrists
They abduct kids and fuck the heads of dead pigs
But him in a hoodie with a couple of spliffs –
Jail him, he’s the criminal

It’s the BoredOfItAll generation
The product of product placement and manipulation,
Shoot em up, brutal, duty of care,
Come on, new shoes.
Beautiful hair.

Bullshit saccharine ballads
And selfies
And selfies

And selfies
And here’s me outside the palace of ME!

Construct a self and psyhcosis
And meanwhile the people are dead in their droves
But nobody noticed,
Well actually, some of them noticed,
You could tell by the emoji they posted.

Sleep like a gloved hand covers our eyes
The lights are so nice and bright and lets dream
But some of us are stuck like stones in a slipstream
What am I gonna do wake up?

We are lost
We are lost
We are lost
And still nothing
Will stop
Nothing pauses

We have ambitions and friends and our courtships to think of
Divorces to drink off the thought of

The money
The money
The oil

The planet is shaking and spoiled
Life is a plaything
A garment to soil
The toil the toil.
I cant see an ending at all.
Only the end.

How is this something to cherish?
When the tribesmen are dead in their deserts
To make room for alien structures,
Develop
Develop

Kill what you find if it threatens you.

No trace of love in the hunt for the bigger buck,

Here in the land where nobody gives a fuck.«

Annat bra under 2015:

Anna von Hausswolff – The Miraculous (album)

Josefine Öhrn + The Liberation – Horse dance (album)

D’Angelo, live Falconer Salen, Köpenhamn, 25 februari.

FKA Twigs – M3LL155X (EP)

Madi Banja – Det var inte med meningen (EP)

Moon City Boys – Let my love dance (EP)

Mo Kolours – Texture like sun (album)

Moa Pillar – Humanity (album)

Bastien Keb – Dinking in the shadows of Zizou (album)

Arre! Arre! – A.T.T.A.C.K (album)

Louise Hoffsten – L (album)

Owiny Sigoma Band – Nyanza (album)

Ane Brun – When I’m Free (album)

Ji Nilsson – Blue is the saddest colour (EP)

Cherushii feat. Maria Minerva – »Thin Line« (låt)

Destroyer – Poison season (album)

Acronym – June (album)

DJ Koze: DJ-Kicks (album)

Omar Souleyman – Bahdeni Nami (album)

Holly Herndon – Platform (album)

Four Tet – Morning/Evening (album)

Little Simz – A curious tale of trials + persons (album)

Terakaft – Alone (Ténéré) (album)

Shamir – Ratchet (album)

Joy – Glädjeflickan (EP)

Björk – Vulnicura (album)

Jenny Hval – Apocalypse, girl (album)

Algiers – Algiers (album)

Consumer Electronics – Repetition Reinforcement (EP)

Fantasma – Free love (album)

Leslie Tay – 12 år (EP)

Taraf de Haidouks – Of Lovers, Gamblers and Parachute Skirts (album)

Joker – The Mainframe (album)

Noveller – Fantastic planet (album)

Kendrick Lamar – To pimp a butterfly (album)

Dasha Rush – Sleepstep (album)

Itsabrightlight – »Weaken me« (singel)

Kara-Lis Coverdale – Aftertouches (album)

Varg – Ursviken (album)

Young Thug – Barter 6 (album)

The Very Best – Makes a king (album)