A different spin this week, and I must admit, I’m not one to usually do these things.

I left social media years ago, and I remember these kinds of posts circulating on Facebook. Before the social media burnout set in, I participated in a couple of those challenges. I recall there was one post a day, on top ten albums (my list would be completely different today, btw). There was also an advent calendar-style photo challenge, essentially one photo a day throughout December, that I did. Now that I think of it, I believe I also participated in a month-long B&W photo challenge.

Anyway, before I dive headfirst into the central theme of this post, I want to shed some light on my own Substack.

I was initially reluctant to join this platform. I started to hate everything about social media, and I now thoroughly detest it. Unplugging and deleting my accounts (almost six years ago) was a great decision, and I do not miss a thing about it.

However, for years, before social media existed, I wrote about music and art. Back in December 2023, my family encouraged me to start writing again and suggested Substack, which I had never heard of.

And so I did.

My first piece was on Hugh Masekela’s ‘Home Is Where The Music Is’ (1972), which I published on December 23, 2023. Jazz is a vast genre that can be intimidating, and although this wasn’t the first Masekela album I discovered or loved, it is the one I come back to the most and holds a very special place in my heart. If pushed to choose, I would also say it’s my all-time favorite jazz album (and now the name of this page).

Back to Substack…

I admit that I am less fond of the Notes feature.

Yes, I use it, but not often.

I understand that it can help one’s pieces be seen, which I like. However, I also see a lot in Notes that reminds me of why I left social media in the first place.

And, let’s be honest, I often write about forgotten, overlooked, or obscure albums, or I write about art or topics like grief, and then pair it with an unfamiliar song.

Why?

Because these are the records and songs that fill my head, my heart, and my house. And, with all due respect to those who do write about musicians with mass appeal or are household names, what more can I say about a band or an album that has been written about time and time again? I often choose to highlight artists and albums that were overlooked when they were first released, but I believe they, too, deserve to be heard.

And maybe that is why, in two years on Substack, I currently only have one paid subscriber (thank you, you know who you are, and I appreciate you! 🙏).

Let’s just say that I won’t be giving up the day job just yet!

Could I play the Notes game or write about more familiar artists to increase my subscribers and potentially attract more people who choose to pay?

Sure.

But I won’t. That’s not me, nor the game I want to play.

I can hear you saying…

“OK, Michael, we get it…. but what is this post actually about?”

The Sunshine Blogger Award

Many of you have seen it. It’s making the rounds, and I have read all of those that have crossed my eyes.

Why?

Because, like its name, it shines light on the people behind the Substacks that I read. It enables me to get to know them as individuals and not just by their writing. I guess it allows me to know them just that little bit better. And, with all the big names or stars who seem to join Substack and immediately gain hundreds of thousands of subscribers, it also highlights the 99% of us who write for the love of it because we feel we have something to add to the conversation.

In my case, music and art.

So, thank you to Andres of The Vinyl Room, who nominated me for the “Sunshine Blogger Award.” I appreciate you, Andrés!

Andrés’ Substack was one of the first I subscribed to. He talks about record care, maintenance, and collecting that was different than most. I am a record nerd who takes a lot of time cleaning my records and stylus (and spent far too much time ensuring my turntable was level in my wonky old house). I appreciate that Andrés carves out space for these subjects. While I may not share his love for Mariah Carey, I do with Donny Hathaway, and I celebrate and respect that an artist like Mariah speaks so deeply to him. Finally, he always brings a healthy dash of salty, sassy sarcasm and humor to the conversation.

So, let’s get this show on the road. It is now my turn to share with you my answers to Andrés’ eleven questions he sent me. Maybe this will give you all a bit more insight into me as a thinking, feeling human being who listens to a lot of music, creates art, and has been stumbling around trying to find my own space here on this platform. I readily admit that I sometimes wonder if Substack is still for me. As for now, I feel I have more things to share, and it helps me get those conversations out that I would otherwise be having with myself.

Thank you again, Andrés, for the nomination and questions. And thank you to those who are still here reading!

What’s your earliest musical memory?

I don’t know if this is my earliest memory, but I vividly remember my uncle visiting us from San Francisco. It was 1975. I was six. He was tall, had long hair, a beard, a top hat, and patches on his jeans. He was an authentic Haight-Ashbury hippie. As a present, he gave me a copy of Kiss Alive! It was my first record. The photo of the band on the front cover, the eight-page color insert, the naughty handwritten letters inside, the picture of the teen boys holding the banner on the back cover, and, of course, the heavy rock and roll grooves, were my gateway to music. That album kickstarted my love for music and records, and I wrote about it here.

Was there a specific artist, band, record or event that inspired you to start writing about music?

During my Master’s studies in Fine Art, I started writing about music and art for a local alternative paper in Albany, New York. I reviewed art exhibitions in New York City and London, and I was also really into psychedelic rock. One of the first music pieces I wrote for the paper was an album review on the 1990s underground British psychedelic band, Sun Dial (fitting name given this “award,” eh?).

In the early 2000s, I was also very active on a psychedelic music forum where I regularly wrote numerous album reviews.

What’s an album you could write treaties on?

I will circle back to Hugh Masekela’s ‘Home Is Where The Music Is.’ Hugh was South African and brought a unique lens to his music. It’s music that expresses his love of American jazz, Fela Kuti, Highlife music, Gil Scott-Heron, as well as the music that fills the streets of Johannesburg and Swaziland.

Treaties unite, music unites, and Masekela unites. The world now needs to unite.

What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever received?

I had to write a lot in college, but I never studied writing. However, I did study art, and I think what relates in art relates in writing:

Keep it honest and trust the process!

What’s the most unusual place you have ever written from?

Hmmm… In the summer of 2024, I wrote notes for a piece while on a Peruvian island in the middle of Lake Titicaca. My wife and I were house guests of the village mayor! I think that’s pretty unusual!

If you could go on tour with one artist or band, current or past, dead or alive, who would you choose and why?

I have actually done this, and it was incredibly fun. I have great stories and amazing memories, but at the same time, there is a reason why they say, “Never meet your heroes. They’ll surely disappoint you.”

One day I will write my story…

Name a concert you were lucky to witness and one you regret having missed.

Lucky: The White Stripes’ first London show. It was July 26, 2001, at the legendary 100 Club. I didn’t know the band, but I read a paragraph in Time Out magazine that mentioned the Stripes in the same sentence as the MC5 & The Stooges, and I had to check them out. I didn’t have tickets, and the scalper wanted more than I was willing to pay. Back then, after the opener, the smokers would come outside. I knew the closer it got to the band taking the stage, the scalper would lower his price. When the smokers started to go back inside, I offered him face value, and he took it. I was in. Jack and Meg were still setting up. It was hot as fuck downstairs, but they eviscerated the club and everyone in attendance. It was incredible.

Regret: I wish I had known more about Fela Kuti in the 1980s and 1990s and saw him perform.

How would you define success?

Success is such a personal definition.

I have been married to the same person for thirty-three years. We still love and enjoy each other’s company and openly communicate with one another. We are now empty nesters, and still have weekly date nights and great holidays together. Our relationship is a success because we work hard to make it a success.

Career-wise, over the past thirty years (!), I have taught art to thousands of students in the UK and US. I believe that I have done a good job, and I have many students from both England and the States who, to this day, have kept in touch with me. But ultimately, they hold the final answer as to whether I was successful or not.

What’s your main guilty pleasure?

Not sure if this is musically or something else. Musically, maybe Earth, Wind & Fire. Forget what you think you know about them (eg, “September”)... their first three albums are incendiary and funky free jazz. I would also add The Commodores to that list! Before Lionel Richie’s sappy stadium ballads elevated them (and him!) to superstardom, The Commodores were a funky band that knew how to boogie.

But, if you are asking about something other than music… Mezcal!

A hill you’ll die on?

This is the hardest one to answer. There’s so much I want to say that, due to the current state of bullshit turmoil here in the dysfunctional US, but I don’t want to go on a political rant.

Art Hill:

There’s far more being said in Hal Ashby’s 1971 film ‘Harold & Maude’ than the obvious “relationship.” It’s a quirky, but beautiful film about humanity and self-discovery. But people just focus on “the relationship,” which can make it difficult to engage in a meaningful conversation about the film.

Music Hill:

The Beach Boys’ ‘Pet Sounds’ is overrated.

Between 1964 and 1970/71, The Pretty Things were the greatest British rock band. Full stop.

Lastly, Jethro Tull’s three albums (‘Stand Up,’ ‘Benefit,’ and ‘Aqualung’), as well as the singles they recorded between 1968-1971, are better than anything by Led Zeppelin. The songs on these albums and singles are deeper, more thoughtful, more nuanced, and they also rock just as hard. I wrote about this particular hill here, and I suspect most of you will still disagree with me.

But I stand by it.

When all is said and done, how would you like to be remembered?

A good husband, a good father, an inspiring teacher who believed in the transformative power of art, and a decent bloke who was kind, compassionate, and empathetic, and tried his best at life.

And, that’s a wrap, folks. I would now like to highlight these particular writers who bring golden sunshine into my Substack life.

Deborah Brasket - A writer and lover of poetry and art who recently published a book and has a fascinating life story (she raised her family on a boat while sailing around the world!).

Richard Elliott is an English writer, university lecturer, and lover of songs, objects, and stories (and running!). His breadth of research is nothing short of phenomenal.

Andrew Jazprose Hill - An amazing human being with wonderful stories, perspective, and a genuine kindness in his very thoughtful writing.

Margaret Bennett - Margaret is an incredible storyteller with a gift for words. I appreciate her love and curiosity for art, community, the Northern English city and landscape she is part of, her stories of youth, her travels, and her adorable floppy pet bunny rabbit, who sometimes makes an appearance in her posts!

Graciewilde - A writer who, as she ages, seeks answers to the questions she now has about life and death but ultimately always finds truth and love in her family and the gorgeous Californian landscape.

Ellen from Endwell - Another wonderful storyteller. She writes about all things rock and roll. She searches for meaning within songs, loves Todd Rundgren, did a deep dive into the art of the protest song, and is currently working on Chapter 33 of her own fictional rock and roll romcom.

Music of Africa - I greatly appreciate their relentless energy and advocacy, highlighting, in particular, contemporary African music.

The Music Directory - An incredible resource for all things music on Substack. A huge undertaking, and Shanté deserves huge kudos for her gift to this community.

Ellis OConnor - Ellis is a painter living on the edge of Scotland’s Outer Hebrides. Her contemporary landscape paintings are ethereal, abstract, and evoke J.M.W. Turner’s expressive, tumultuous skies. Ellis’ Substack is a bold expression of her art as well as her touching and honest writing on autism.

Sonia Witak - A writer and artist whose deep dives into art are brilliantly researched, and often pose profound questions about art and the human condition.

Jamie Ward - Jamie is no longer active on this platform, but I need to highlight him nonetheless. He is an artist, designer, skater, and lifelong champion of the misfits and underdogs of this world. A lover of music from the skull-shattering to the delicate and gentle, but in particular, the weird freaks who plugged in, turned on, and tuned out. He’s also just a good fuckin’ dude. Texas doesn’t deserve him, yet he will probably be the first to say that it’s his honor and duty as a Texan to try and help right that sinking Lone Star ship. I miss his Sermons!, But he is working on a return in another phase and space somewhere in the ethers.

Finally, there are many others that I regularly enjoy reading. As many of you know, I am a reader who engages and often leaves feedback. I honestly wish that others did, and I also wish that when one takes the time to write a thoughtful comment on a post or a Note, there was a reply in return (rather than a “like/love” or worse, nothing).

Trust me, real words go a long way and mean a lot, especially as most of us put a lot of time, energy, and love into this and often receive very little in return.

Nevertheless, I would like to thank all of you who subscribe, follow, and read my posts.

Until next time…

Be kind to yourself and others.

Stay curious.

Keep it honest.

Trust the process.

Make art (or absorb art into your life).

And listen to Donny Hathaway!

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