Quade: The Foel Tower review – twisted Bristol band tap into the tensions between industry and nature
Listening to The Foel Tower feels like tuning a weathered old radio – you'll be rewarded for applying patience and concentration. On this second album, experimental Bristol four-piece Quade make a virtue of the slow build; Barney Matthews' bassy, cryptic vocals are buried beneath shivering cymbals, gut-rumbling bass and blasts of static, with most of the lyricism left to multi-instrumentalist Tom Connolly's twisting, agonised, beatific violin.
Like their label mates Moin who describe themselves as 'post-whatever', Quade discard the classic band format for a more organic, intuitive approach. Canada Geese starts with a simple, strummed acoustic guitar and close-quarters detail: distant birdsong, the soft rattle of what could be a washing machine. This intimacy dissolves into grand, threatening post-rock when Matt Griffith's electronics and Leo Fini's echoing, distant drums build muscle. 'Kill them all,' Matthews mumbles, barely discernible, as Connolly's strings writhe.
Drawing from folk, jazz, ambient and doom, and inspired by tensions between industry and nature, the album was made in Wales' Elan Valley (mid-album instrumental highlight Nannerth Ganol judders like a low-flying helicopter) and titled after a building on the Garreg Ddu reservoir, which sends its water on a long journey to Birmingham. There are literary references (Le Guin, Yeats, Thomas) buried in the murk, and mystifying media samples (possibly from meditation app Headspace, and an unnamed actor) to pick apart – but The Foel Tower is no concept album. Its six tracks are searching and emotional, led by heart rather than head. Satisfyingly indecipherable, Quade make music that speaks first to your body, then to your imagination.
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The Guardian
18-04-2025
- The Guardian
Quade: The Foel Tower review – twisted Bristol band tap into the tensions between industry and nature
Listening to The Foel Tower feels like tuning a weathered old radio – you'll be rewarded for applying patience and concentration. On this second album, experimental Bristol four-piece Quade make a virtue of the slow build; Barney Matthews' bassy, cryptic vocals are buried beneath shivering cymbals, gut-rumbling bass and blasts of static, with most of the lyricism left to multi-instrumentalist Tom Connolly's twisting, agonised, beatific violin. Like their label mates Moin who describe themselves as 'post-whatever', Quade discard the classic band format for a more organic, intuitive approach. Canada Geese starts with a simple, strummed acoustic guitar and close-quarters detail: distant birdsong, the soft rattle of what could be a washing machine. This intimacy dissolves into grand, threatening post-rock when Matt Griffith's electronics and Leo Fini's echoing, distant drums build muscle. 'Kill them all,' Matthews mumbles, barely discernible, as Connolly's strings writhe. Drawing from folk, jazz, ambient and doom, and inspired by tensions between industry and nature, the album was made in Wales' Elan Valley (mid-album instrumental highlight Nannerth Ganol judders like a low-flying helicopter) and titled after a building on the Garreg Ddu reservoir, which sends its water on a long journey to Birmingham. There are literary references (Le Guin, Yeats, Thomas) buried in the murk, and mystifying media samples (possibly from meditation app Headspace, and an unnamed actor) to pick apart – but The Foel Tower is no concept album. Its six tracks are searching and emotional, led by heart rather than head. Satisfyingly indecipherable, Quade make music that speaks first to your body, then to your imagination.
The Guardian
25-02-2025
- The Guardian
‘It shatters my heart': the slow death of India's once-famous Urdu book bazaar
Inside one of the oldest bookshops in Delhi's Urdu Bazaar, Rafiq Ahmad, a film critic and writer, is scrutinising the bookshelves for material to help with his next project. Ahmad often travels from Bhopal in Madhya Pradesh to Delhi's famed Urdu Bazaar in search of the books he needs. 'I know this is the place where I can find any Urdu book from any era. Whenever I have to write anything, I come here for material. Currently, I am looking for books about Dilip Kumar, the renowned Bollywood actor,' Ahmad says. Once known as a literary hub for book lovers, poets, writers and calligraphers, the Urdu market, nestled among the old and narrow lanes of India's capital, is silently mourning its own slow death. About 40 years ago, there were 60 shops that sold Urdu novels and poetry books. Now, only half a dozen survive. The rest have been transformed into eateries, clothing shops and guesthouses. The smell of sizzling kebabs and biryani has triumphed over the scent of ancient books. Urdu Bazaar, also known as Kitab Ghar or Kitab Mandir, was established in 1920 in the walled city of Delhi and became a hub of Urdu printing, publishing and poetry. Moin-Ud-Din, 45, owner of Kutub Khana Anjuman-e-Taraqqi-e-Urdu, sits in his shop brushing the dust off a poetry book and reminiscing about his childhood, when the lanes were filled with bookshops, readers and poets. 'I was born here beside these books,' he says. 'I started assisting my father when I was in seventh standard [grade]. But witnessing my cradle crumble shatters my heart.' He is the third generation of his family to look after the bookshop, which his grandfather, Munshi Niyaz Ud-Din, established in 1937. For Moin-Ud-Din, the decline of Urdu Bazaar began during the partition of the country in 1947, and intensified in the 1980s and 1990s when fast-food restaurants and the digital revolution arrived. Instead of shelves bursting with a rich variety of Urdu Books, food, trendy clothes and miswaqs (teeth-cleaning twigs) began to appear, and the scholars and poets were replaced with food vloggers and fashion fans. 'Most of the booksellers who owned shops here went to Pakistan. Only a few remained here and, later on, many found profit in selling fast food and transformed bookshops into food hubs,' Moin-Ud-Din says. Many of the bookshops that continue to exist have placed prayer rugs and dates outside to widen their appeal. 'I have been here for seven years. I didn't know anything about Urdu but my passion for Urdu brought me here,' Mohammad Alauddin, a bookseller at Zulfiqar Book Depot, says. His son-in-law owned the shop, but after his death, Alauddin took over. He too believes that people found selling kebabs more profitable than books. 'Most of the famous, oldest shops – Nazeeria, Quran Ghar, Central Book Depot, Kutub Khana Rasheediya – have become hotels and guesthouses. Since Jama Masjid is here, the sale of food is always high,' Alauddin says, referring to the 400-year-old mosque that sits opposite the bazaar. Inside the dimly lit Kutub Khana Aziziya bookshop, Ahmad Nabeel is engrossed in writing daily notes. Established in 1937, the shop was looked after by his grandfather and father until it was Nabeel's turn. He believes it is the new generation's lack of interest in Urdu literature that has led to the bazaar's demise. 'Previously, parents taught their kids the Urdu language, but now people are inclined towards English,' Nabeel says. 'They are mostly into English literature.' Back in the bazaar's heyday, each shop employed about 10 members of staff; now just one or two are needed. Nabeel points to the adjacent shop that once harboured the famous Kutub Khana Rasheediya. 'It was once a bookshop often frequented by reputed writers but then it became a clothes shop and now it is a hotel selling kebabs and chicken,' he says. Khalid Mubashir, an assistant professor of Urdu at Jamia Millia Islamia university, believes ebooks and the digital world have affected the sale of Urdu books. 'Firstly, the stamina of reading has reduced owing to an increasing 30-40 second 'reel culture'. Secondly, everything is available and accessible on the internet in the form of ebooks and PDFs. This will be like this in future. I don't think such space will be revived again,' Mubashir says. Mohammad Ghalib, 63, is the last surviving calligrapher in the Urdu Bazaar. He has calligraphed academic books and other weighty tomes but, as business dried up, Ghalib turned to writing wedding cards and short titles. Ghalib recalls the bygone era of Urdu Bazaar: 'There were around 14 katibs – calligraphers – here. Some of them died, and some left the profession since they found no profit in it. 'Technology took over the art of calligraphy and handwritten books,' he says, moving his hand over an example of ornate script. Away from the crowd, on the narrow and dimly-lit Chooriwalan bylane, Shah Wali Ullah library, established in 1994, determinedly promotes Urdu literature and gives space to young poets and writers. The library holds about 21,000 books, including a 100-year-old Qur'an; Ghalib's Diwan-e-Ghalib, complete with his personal seal and signature; an illustrated Ramayana in Persian; and Diwan-i Zafar, a volume of Bahadur Shah Zafar's poetry, printed and sealed by the royal press in the Red Fort in 1885. 'Students from different universities and people from Iran, Japan, Thailand and Europe visit our library and are interested to see these old manuscripts,' says Sikander Mirza Changezi, co-founder of the library. Changezi believes the coming generation will preserve and revive such spaces. Meanwhile, Moin-Ud-Din is determined to keep his bookshop open. 'I too could have switched to an eatery or clothes shop, but I want to carry on the legacy of my grandfather. 'This place was established by scholars who didn't want to earn from it but contribute to society and religion.'
The Guardian
15-02-2025
- The Guardian
The White Lotus: the TV phenomenon is back – and it's still next-level viewing
Sure, The White Lotus is an acclaimed drama, eagerly anticipated after more than two years away from our screens, but it is also a solid and reliable meme factory. From the second season's banger of a theme tune, to every line Jennifer Coolidge's character deigned to speak, when The White Lotus is in season, the internet transforms into its fan account. For such a rich and well-crafted satire on bored elites and their casual cruelty, it really does translate well to screenshots and parodies. These memes, they're trying to murder me! In an age of fragmented attention spans, then, The White Lotus is that rare cultural phenomenon that still feels like a collective activity. These days, only a handful of shows would warrant mass speculation about how a season is going to end, and The White Lotus has become one of them. Inevitably, it returns for a third series under the heavy weight of expectation. Can it survive the loss of Coolidge's Tanya, killed off with operatic gusto at the end of season two? Can it survive a new theme tune? Thankfully, the answers are yes and yes. It has had a few minor tweakments but the work is subtle, and it basically passes as its former youthful self. That's not to say Coolidge isn't missed – nobody can compare – but as soon as the series gets back to business, the feeling of being guided by steady hands returns. This is next-level television, still. Apparently, creator Mike White is 'obsessed' with reality TV, which makes a lot of sense. The reality TV playbook is put to work and turned into respectable drama. Every single character is given ample reason to snap, and each new scenario prods and pokes them until they do. It is impossible to look away. Following Hawaii and Sicily, we are now at the White Lotus resort in Thailand. It opens with a scene of meditation, as a member of staff helps an as-yet-unknown hotel guest in the art of 'calm[ing] our chattering monkey minds'. The peace is shattered by the sound of gunshots, but even that guest lasts longer than I can manage on the Headspace app. Soon, a body is floating past in the water. As in previous seasons, the clock winds back a week, to the new guests' arrival at the resort. We get to know them, with the understanding that at least one of them won't be checking out. Campy Cluedo is ready to have a lot of fun teasing us with all the possibilities of what could have gone so wrong. The guests are exquisitely awful. There's a southern US Christian family, with Jason Isaacs and Parker Posey as the parents, Timothy and Victoria, who are clearly sitting on top of some financial irregularities, and whose children are oddly close to one another. Eldest son Saxon (Patrick Schwarzenegger) is an obnoxious, self-satisfied bro, continuing White's exploration of men and their foibles. There are three waspy blond women on a girls' trip, played by Michelle Monaghan, Leslie Bibb and Carrie Coon. Queen bee Jaclyn (Monaghan) is famous, and their old friendship is crumbling, painfully. Aimee Lou Wood and Walton Goggins play Chelsea and Rick, a couple who appear to have absolutely nothing in common. As Chelsea, Wood takes on Coolidge's roll as principal clown, at least to begin with. Of the staff, there is an early focus on Mook, played by Lalisa Manobal, AKA Blackpink star Lisa, and security guard Gaitok (Tayme Thapthimthong), who may be in love with her. When The White Lotus first appeared in 2021, its mockery of the super-rich felt novel, but that theme soon became mainstream movie and television fodder. Smartly, White has kept the mega-wealthy in his sights, but shifted his attention slightly to the wellness industry. It does not take long before it starts to go a bit Goop-shaped. The resort offers 'health mentors', gluten-free dinners, digital detoxes and biometric testing. It also provides a lot of alcohol and flawed, miserable human beings, starved of carbs and TikTok, stuck with people they mostly despise. Is it wrong that it feels so good to be there, as it all falls apart?
