Latest news with #monoculture
News.com.au
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- News.com.au
Kita Alexander leaves her mark on Perth with intimate set
Research emerged last year that found that streaming platforms with their algorithmic recommendations have created a monoculture dominated by US and UK artists, leaving very little room for homegrown talent to truly flourish. As so many artists are getting lost in the mix, now and again someone with such discernible talent comes along that they just can't be ignored; and that's Kita Alexander. She's been kicking around for a decade now, working hard to cement her position as an indie darling in Australia and capturing the attention of US pop star Madison Beer and UK pop diva Dua Lipa, who both asked her to support them on tour. Now 29, Alexander, who's married to Australian professional surfer Owen Wright, has experienced some chart success throughout her career, with her single Hotel going 2x Platinum after its release back in 2017. What struck me most about Alexander was the warmth that emanated from her the moment she stepped out onstage. As someone who beforehand knew only of Alexander's album track I Just Killed A Man – which is genuinely one of the most meticulously crafted break-up songs I've ever had the pleasure of hearing – I wasn't entirely convinced how easily she would be able to win me over with a relatively short set of 15 or so tracks. But any doubts immediately melted away from the moment she sung her first note. Sometimes you meet someone and are inexplicably drawn to them and their energy, and Alexander has that in spades. Her voice sounds like a blend of the pop rock sensibilities of Olivia Rodrigo paired with the warmth and smokiness of a 1920s jazz club singer, and some of the nuances in her delivery that she brought to songs depending on what genre they leaned into brought them to life so wonderfully. Communication was a clear standout for me, a gorgeous slice of glittering break-up pop that would feel at home on Taylor Swift's Midnight's record. Her cover of Djo's modern classic End of Beginning was so enrapturing that my partner turned to me and was convinced it was her own original song. The last handful of songs was banger after banger, kicking the set into a higher gear and with the small but loyal crowd in the palm of her hand singing back lyrics. Alexander would occasionally take a moment to have a giggle with the crowd and let her personality shine through, but there was one moment where she spoke earnestly of having children at a relatively young age that I really connected with, and it's those times when an artist really gives you an unedited glimpse into the lives that truly helps you form a better understanding and appreciation for their discography. It seems clear to me that with a team and a label behind her that believes in her talent, Alexander is one breakout hit away from becoming a powerhouse within the music industry Down Under, and I don't think it could happen to a more deserving woman.
The Guardian
09-06-2025
- General
- The Guardian
There's an invader turning huge swathes of Britain into deserts – and these dead zones are spreading
Deserts are spreading across great tracts of Britain, yet few people seem to have noticed, and fewer still appear to care. It is one of those astonishing situations I keep encountering: in which vast, systemic problems – in this case, I believe, covering thousands of square kilometres – hide in plain sight. I realise that many people, on reading that first sentence, will suspect I've finally flipped. Where, pray, are those rolling sand dunes or sere stony wastes? But there are many kinds of desert, and not all of them are dry. In fact, those spreading across Britain are clustered in the wettest places. Yet they harbour fewer species than some dry deserts do, and are just as hostile to humans. Another useful term is terrestrial dead zones. What I'm talking about are the places now dominated by a single plant species, called Molinia caerulea or purple moor-grass. Over the past 50 years, it has swarmed across vast upland areas: in much of Wales, on Dartmoor, Exmoor, in the Pennines, Peak District, North York Moors, Yorkshire Dales and many parts of Scotland. Molinia wastes are dismal places, grey-brown for much of the year, in which only the wind moves. As I know from bitter experience, you can explore them all day and see scarcely a bird or even an insect. Not that you would wish to walk there. The grass forms high tussocks through which it is almost impossible to push. As it happens, most of the places that have succumbed to Molinia monoculture are 'access land'. Much of the pittance of England and Wales in which we are allowed to walk freely has become inaccessible. In a great victory a fortnight ago, the supreme court ruled that we have a right to wild camp on Dartmoor. But on many parts of the moor, you wouldn't want to exercise it. As soon as the grass takes hold, all opportunities for enjoyment and employment cease. Molinia challenges the definition of an invasive species. The term is supposed to refer only to non-native organisms. But while it has always been part of our upland flora, it appears to have spread further and faster than any introduced plant in the UK, and with greater ecological consequences. It is uncontrolled by herbivores, disease or natural successional processes (transitions to other plant communities). In fact, it stops these processes in their tracks. Given the scale of the problem, it is remarkably little studied and discussed. I cannot find even a reliable estimate of the area affected: the most recent in England is nearly 10 years old, and I can discover none for Wales or Scotland. But in the southern Cambrian Mountains alone, judging by a combination of my walks and satellite imagery, there appears to be a dead zone covering roughly 300 sq km, in which little but this one species grows. Most of central Dartmoor is now Molinia desert, and just as disheartening and hard to traverse. Why is this happening? It seems to be a combination of forces. One is 'headage payments': subsidies that were issued in the second half of the 20th century, which paid farmers for the number of animals they kept. They created an incentive to cram the land with as many sheep and cattle as possible. This, in combination with burning moorland to produce fresh shoots for the livestock to eat, seems in some places to have pushed ecosystems beyond their tipping points. Even, as in parts of the Cambrians, where there have been no sheep grazing for 40 years, as there's nothing left to eat (sheep will scarcely touch Molinia), there has been no recovery. Another likely factor is nitrogen deposition. Nitrogen compounds rain down on Britain's habitats at a rate of roughly 29kg per hectare per year. They are produced by livestock farming, traffic and industry. Drainage (largely for farming) also appears to accelerate the spread: Molinia thrives as peat dries out. The Dartmoor ecologist and nature campaigner Tony Whitehead tells me that the degradation of peat caused by drainage, excavation, burning and grazing pressure is likely to be the primary accelerant. Burning in particular – carried out by sheep farmers on Dartmoor and Exmoor and by grouse shoots on northern English moors and in Scotland – favours the plant. While other species are destroyed, Molinia is protected by its deep roots and tussocks, which guard its buds. Various solutions are proposed, but few are satisfactory. One approach is to blast the grass with the herbicide glyphosate. It works for a while, but leaves an even grimmer waste, likely to be colonised again by Molinia. Others propose yet more burning, and/or grazing with cattle or ponies: temporary 'solutions' that look like blood-letting to cure anaemia. Whitehead has watched what happens: the animals graze around the edges of the Molinia, eating only small amounts, while continuing to knock back other plant species. After early summer, they won't touch the stuff, as its nutritional value declines steeply. A new report by the government agency Natural England states that livestock grazing is not required to protect the main habitat type – blanket mire – that Molinia threatens. Rewetting the land, by blocking drains and building bunds and perhaps, as one team is attempting, planting clumps of sphagnum moss among the grass, in order to restore the peat, seems to be the only means of reviving blanket mire. It also makes the land less prone to fire. In other places, we should be encouraging the return of trees, through planting and excluding livestock. Most of the areas overtaken by Molinia have a temperature and moisture range that would favour temperate rainforest: a vanishingly rare, rich and complex habitat. As the trees mature, they should shade out the grass. In some wet areas, I'd like to see the return of water-tolerant species such as alder, downy birch and willow, to restore upland carr, another rich and scarce habitat. But anyone who wants to rewild upland ecosystems hits a wall of vested interests – mostly sheep farmers and grouse moor owners – who, like the commercial fishing sector, insist on doing the wrong thing until it destroys their own industry. Where is the urgent government programme? Where is there even official acknowledgment that we have a problem? To fix something, first you must see it. George Monbiot is a Guardian columnist
