Bluest Hour
First published on Liz’s Substack
I have started making a radio show. I am making it because I don’t like people who say they’re going to do something and then don’t do it, especially if they don’t do it because they are afraid, of how it might look, or that it won’t win them any prizes. I’m making a radio show because, when I was so sad that I could barely lift my arms to the steering wheel, the radio repulsed me. I was groundhog-day-ing over and over again and glitching repeatedly. Its endless upbeatism was too demanding.
My radio show is all about sad music but what it’s really about is connection. I, like others (maybe all of us?), find it hard to connect with people. That is why I write songs, the endless “you too huh?” back and forth, as it has been throughout all human history. But don’t get me started on talking to camera, talking to my little phone to every person on the planet through a machine that knows everything ever. I need to find another way, or ways, to connect to people. This substack is one way and the radio show is another.
Sometimes I do little things in front of security cameras for the mystery watcher. I think this is my desire to connect. Connection doesn’t have to be good, it can be bad, it can be road rage or tutting at shoppers or raising your eyebrows at a stranger who has recognised a situation at the same time as you. I don’t care, I just need it. I need people to acknowledge my existence whilst I recognise theirs. I need to lock eyes with someone as they swap their shopping bag from one tired hand to another, or tug their child’s arm to cross the road or look annoyed at their partner giving poor directions. I want to say “I see you!” and mean it. And when people send me the songs they love, I want to say “I hear you” and mean it.
My niece used to eat these ice-creams that had popping candy in them. She used to say to me “Auntie Liz, hear dis” and open her sticky warm mouth millimetres from my ear so that I could hear the little balls of sugar exploding on her tongue. So everyone, hear dis, my new hobby of collecting a bunch of sad music and talking about it.
Bluest Hour parts 1-4 are now up on Mixcloud.