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Articles ⸱ George Bloomfield

Live Review: Fontaines D.C, Ally Pally, 23.11.24

Bloomfield stans hard for the post-punk Dublin lads as they drop the curtain and raise the roof at Ally Pally
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TheNeverPages ⸱ Graham Thomas

Chapter Ten

Angeline could not recall to me her life and so instead she recalled to me a dream. The smoky cataract in her ‘good eye’ cleared. She smiled. I glimpsed her wooden dentures. Around me the replicated diners and waiters went through their routines.
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Articles ⸱ George Bloomfield

Live Review: DEADLETTER, Electric Brixton, 24,11,24

Raucous energy from Deadletter get's everyone sweaty in Brixton. Bloomfield reports from the fray.
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Articles ⸱ George Bloomfield

Live review: English Teacher, KOKO, 13/11/24

There are no puns in this article about English Teacher schooling other bands on how it's done.
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TheNeverPages ⸱ Graham Thomas

Chapter Nine

Night-time within the embrace of the Exxon Valdez. The woman is sleeping with her head on my lap, the bustle of her dress a maroon waterfall. Her lace collar is undone, exposing her neck. Clear sign she is comfortable. No rings on fingers. Loose ringlets in hair. Slender neck. Old and young.
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Articles ⸱ Tim Hanson

Live review: Christian Lee Hutson, Lafayette, 13/11/24

Folk rock storyteller Christian Lee Hutson treats London to a set that is at times piercing, witty, romantic and disaffected but always engaging.
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TheNeverPages ⸱ Graham Thomas

Chapter Eight

Woke up a few minutes ago to sound of scraping. Sitting up on bench, huddled in coat (cushion provided no dream). Scraping was soft. Almost a slide. A note under my door! I am staring at it. Still folded under doorframe. Peeking through the edge. Paisley is fast asleep.
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Articles ⸱ George Bloomfield

Live Review: Soft Play, Brixton Academy, 31/10/24

Punk rock duo Soft Play burn it down at Brixton Academy. Our man in the field was there, and has only just got his breath back.
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Poetry ⸱ Rosie Cook

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Who am I when not loved? Floating in the hands of others, Cradled and cupped, Their eyes and how they see me making me light. Without it I could drown  Wash up and waste away - Then I could be anything  Inanimate, Empty with everythings  They keep me full.  Who
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TheNeverPages ⸱ Graham Thomas

Chapter Seven

Door slid open effortlessly. On rails. Odd. No handle, just on rails. Only one bench inside, facing sliding door. Nobody sitting on it. Window above it. Maroon-coloured blind drawn. Picture of a tree on blind – very fine embroidery, like the ivy on the hem of sister’s dress.
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Poetry ⸱ Rosie Cook

nothing

Living is looking forward  to nothing, Looking forward to everything,  means actually to,  Look forward  to nothing.  In that to look forward  is to abandon  the moment, The most living and ferocious real everything we have, Because what’s forward  is nothing  Nothing  - and I mean a white hazy
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Articles ⸱ Graham Thomas

Interview: Bruna Martini, graphic novelist

We have a cuppa with old friend and brilliant graphic novelist Bruna Martini on her process, new work and using everything around you to tell a multi-dimensional story.
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