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Edinburgh Reporter
27-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Edinburgh Reporter
Rosalie Cunningham @ The Hive ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
If Queen had recorded a Bond Theme in 1972 between Diamonds Are Forever and Live and Let Die, then it would probably have sounded a lot like Rosalie Cunningham's opening number To Shoot Another Day. This closing night of the tour in Edinburgh, supporting her current album of the same name begins with an explosion of colour from the Clockwork Orange-style backdrop which matches the bass player's Fireglow Rickenbacker. Claudia Gonzalez Diaz plays the instrument as if it's part of her being. There's a stage-craft and chemistry at work that pulls the threads of cult cinema, glam rock in the spirit of Bowie and songwriting packed with infectious melodies and earworms. Timothy Martin's Finishing School is a playful comment on JD Wetherspoon's weekend booze culture reminiscent of Pepper era Beatles or Bowie's 1967 self-titled Deram album. The likes of this and Home draw upon a similar rich well of English eccentrics and uncanny characters. Dias locks into a jazz-flavoured and punchy groove with Aaron B. Thompson on keys while Cunningham looks every inch the rock star reminiscent of Hammer Horror siren Ingrid Pitt. As she leans forward her eyes widen as if about to sink her fangs into a fan down the front but instead she waves her balloon sleeve high in the air to strike another electrifying chord on a Gibson SG. Cunningham's jumpsuit could perhaps only have been worn by the most idiosyncratic member of Kiss – Ace Frehley back in 1974. The band is a well-oiled machine, and each member brings a unique and dynamic presence to the stage. During Spook Racket Cunningham stomps her glittery platform boots, claps her hands, shakes her long, raven-black hair, and shares lead guitar with Rosco Wilson, who, underneath a 70s footballer haircut and moustache, builds the riff. Diaz swirls her mop of auburn hair as the riff echoes around the room. During the end coda, there's a mystical nod to Jethro Tull with the bass player now on flute. Wilson takes over lead vocals for the swampy blues rock thrust of Rabbit Foot. By this stage, the audience is ecstatic, the sheer sense of joy in the moment doesn't escape anyone as the band's epic musicianship leaves most of us in awe. They thrash through a variety of tempos and memorable stage moves; flared trouser legs kick out, guitars are raised high and screaming space rock solos nearly take the roof off but we always return to the safety of the groove. Recent single Return of the Ellington delivers yet another energetic riff suggestive of a souped-up James and the Cold Gun by Kate Bush. The set closes with the fuzz-driven psychedelia of Ride On My Bike but the crowd want more, nobody is thinking about the last bus home or a bedtime cup of tea. The band returns for a final encore of the dramatic carnivalesque Dethroning of the Party Queen. Cunningham is a gifted performer and a velvet-voiced vocalist who uses her voice as much as her guitar. As if that's not enough she's a songwriter and multi-instrumentalist who writes in the tradition of the best but is very much a vital artist in the here and now. PHOTO Richard Purden PHOTO Richard Purden PHOTO Richard Purden Like this: Like Related


The Guardian
28-03-2025
- Politics
- The Guardian
How do I navigate the fear and anger of this political moment?
How do I navigate the fear, anger and uncertainty of this political moment? Eleanor says: A long and distinguished tradition in philosophical thinking about emotions and politics, from Aristotle to Henry David Thoreau and through to Amia Srinivasan and Myisha Cherry, asks exactly this question. Anger and fear are really enervating. How are we meant to make sure we aren't totally flattened and depleted by these feelings, when we also know they're totally reasonable? I've never known the answer. I don't know how to tell the difference between comfort as balm and comfort as anaesthetic. When I was in kindy I had to be hauled away from a Remembrance Day thing at school in floods of tears, hiccuping and unable to process the number of wartime deaths. Fine as a kid – death is scary. But you see something like it in adulthood too – 'turn the TV off, I can't bear it'. I worry there's something self-indulgent about this, as though we who aren't suffering the things on the news should nonetheless be spared the pain of hearing about them. But I also know, so well, that unblinking, Clockwork Orange-style 'bearing witness' can torch your mental health and deplete your capacity to help. It can turn you nihilistic, suspicious, pessimistic, and you're no help to anyone like that. The trouble is we risk yo-yoing between these two points: either feeling so much of it is unbearable or, as self-protection, not feeling it enough. I don't exactly know how to find the stable mean. But maybe I can tell you what I'm trying. First, I think it's worth distinguishing 'I want to manage my feelings so I can help and live well' and 'I want to stop feeling this way because it feels bad'. Political moments are not ultimately aggregations of feelings. The most pressing question we face together is not how to manage how we feel. That's a means to an end. The question is how can we manage our feelings so that we can show up in the ways we think we should, for other people, for the world we want. The reason to show up is not to make you feel better. You may very well feel worse. The greater your daily acquaintance with various forms of unmoving power, the greater your personal risk by exposure, the worse you may feel. But if we're not doing things now, we're bound to get stuck bouncing between 'overwhelmed' and 'head in sand'. I think it's worth investing in hope. Hope is compatible with a pretty grim outlook on how things actually are. You can think things are going very badly, and even that they'll probably keep going badly, but still have the fire of hope. Finally, I think it's worth trying to learn from the many clever, sensitive people who've lived through dark things. The internet and social media are not typically good places for deep insight, but there's no shortage of books that can take their place. You can be selective with your time and attention: when you engage with despair-inducing material, you can insist it gives you insight in return, not just bad feelings and fast-moving content. The point isn't just to feel better necessarily but to feel in ways that allow us to show up in the moments that matter most.