Music

A hike onto Higher Ground with Sporting Life

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Album cover of Higher Ground

Sporting Life is a seriously under-appreciated producer. After first coming across him during his time at Rat King, a trio which sadly no longer exists, I instantly fell in love with the instrumentals he was able to conjure up. His work on both So it Goes and 700 Fill embodied this underground New York sound, setting up a solid groundwork for Wiki and Hak to fully give themselves up to their lyrical expression.

However, since the collective broke up, I often need to wait till I am in the correct frame of mind before giving his new releases a listen. This is so that I can truly enjoy and appreciate the first listening experience. This happened in the case of his Labplex.Eco album which I initially listened to during the third UK lockdown where I was in dire need of new music to motivate myself and run to. Consequently, I ended up falling in love with THE World IS OUR LAB and Zaha Code, two tracks that had a bigger-than-life feel. Every time I would listen to those songs I would envisage that of an expansive mountain scape, escaping the small terraced house I was bound to. I had the chance to tell Sporting Life during one of his Lockdown Live Streams that Zaha Code was my “life anthem” to which he chuckled and thanked me. One of my fonder lockdown memories.

Labplex.Eco Album cover art

With a name like Sporting Life there was always an echoed homage to the Jordan era of Basketball and the Athlete mindset. With his EP’s named Slam Dunk Volume 1 as well as song title names such as Court Vision and Space Jam Money, the sports related references were obvious. However, since his album Black Diamond, which is a reference to a rock climbing equipment Company,  we would see Sporting move towards a Gorpcore aesthetic. This was yet another reason I could relate to his work because I had also moved towards this outdoors orientated inspiration. Therefore I could recognise the energy and culture that he was channelling within his music. With tracks named Spor’teryx, merrell and La Sportiva, these on-the-nose references to outdoor brand staples are ones that I fully welcomed. His latest Higher Ground even uses a Gorpcore meme as its actual album cover, an image that was heavily circulating the Community and Instagram pages. It’s not until I listened to the album today that I realised it additionally uses Anakin quote samples from the infamously critiqued Naboo scene from Attack of the Clones. With such heavy internet culture and meme significance, the album had a lot to live up to and it did exactly that.

The original Anakin Gorpcore meme that the album cover is taken from.

Sporting Life once again delivers his unique style of production, whilst breathing life into a well-recognised section of dead dialogue. The lines used from Star Wars – Attack of the Clones are wonderfully implemented within the tracks, meshing elegantly with the soulful samples. He renders the once dead pan delivery of Anakin’s monologue to Padme on Naboo sound more like a snippet taken from a Scholar’s Ted Talk on Love.

My favourite track on the album is Padme due to its Rainfall by SWV sample that is elevated through the heavy use of bass and triplet hi hats. I recently came across this song and fell in love with in upon first listen so you can only imagine my joy when I heard its use on track 4. Another notable song is Force Spirit, a track providing a sense yearning with its Soulful vocal sample, amplifying the sense of want in a dutiful Anakin’s final “I miss you” line. Higher Ground is an interesting track, whether it is because of the sample used or it is Sportingpaying homage to, it is sonically close to Jay Z’s Marcy Me off his 4:44 album. Yet once again it fits the overall eye-squinting-in-overwhelming-feeling canvas that the Sporting is succeeding to paint. The last song, Pod Racing is a great finisher, the Jazz Flute juxtaposed with the almost Drill-like backing drums left me infectiously shaking my head like Jammer in the background of an iconic Grime DVD type of way. With the album only being 24:43 minutes long you will inevitably be left wanting to hit a rewind on the whole project. As I myself did whilst writing this review, I have probably hit a play count of at least 7 by now and I look forward to that number forever increasing. The soulful samples, signature drums from Sporting and the seamless meshing of Star Wars vocals left me feeling truly satisfied.

I think that Sporting Life truly hits the nail on the head with this collection of work with it being some of his most enjoyable work that he has put out since his former days in Rat King. A true masterclass in his unique style of production.

Poetry

Forward

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Running forward

forever getting faster

people, memories

fading behind you

blurs of the past.

An old version of yourself

Looks on as you get smaller

and smaller.

Until you’re almost unrecognisable.

But that’s his view.

A sharp picture in the distance

getting clearer as you take each step.

The ground below

sometimes uneven

yet your feet stay strong

assuring yourself as you plant

a part of you into a new part of the world.

It seemed so big at first

not daunting

just large.

the world gets smaller as you grow

each corner becomes more reachable

a feeling once abstract

now tangible.

Keep moving

Leaving the troubles of that unforgiving world

Behind.

Poetry

Birds in a Field

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Together we feel safe

A blanket of white

Tucked softly over a grass field

All safe in thought

Until someone breaks off in angst.

That’s life

One moment you’re safe and warm

And the next you’re fleeing

Running next to those who you thought

Were just as secure as you.

Free fall is fun

You get to learn most about

yourself when you’re falling.

Flying is like falling sideways

You still have the feeling of wind

between your feathers

but you just don’t know you’re

Still headed towards your death.

Poetry

The Seagull

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You’re confused

This isn’t your usual surrounding

Where are the waves

Where’s your blurry reflection

No life below

Not life that you would recognise

Or at least want to

Gliding effortlessly as ever

In a space that isn’t yours

You follow a route

Made to lead some where

But equally no where

No longer vast

Or expansive

And limitless

You choose a journey dictated for you.

You should have stayed

But perhaps an experience awaits

One that involves growth

Even if it isn’t right for you.

So keep moving,

Gliding

Even if where you’re headed

Will lead you

No where.

Fiction

A Walk Along the Thames

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Claude Monet, The Thames Below Westminster, 1871

He had been walking along the embankment for the past forty minutes. The Thames looked passive, its’ green murky water merely existing as it had done for millions of years. Growing tired, he decided to stop by a small, wooden bench. Slugging off his backpack, he slumped down on it with a heavy sigh. It was not the first time the piece of timber had bore the weight of a lacking human. The Sky was an impressive blue, clouds no where to be seen. His previous visits to London had consisted of bad weather and busy bodies, one of which was absent today. There’s a certain level of preparedness which one must obtain before walking the streets of London. Luckily, he had come equipped with more than his backpack. He was in no rush either: this helped. People walked past, each in their own realm of conversation, or for those who weren’t speaking aloud, an internal monologue rang clear; or so he had hoped. Had he been in the same spot 100 years earlier the only difference he would have witnessed was the cloth that shrouded their fragile bodies. The same problems would have still reverberated off the stone floor, that of love and purpose. Perhaps a larger portion of minds would have been present, worrying about what they would have to eat next rather than trivial issues born from a false reality. Half hoping someone would strike up a conversation with him, he sat there for quite some time. Two street cleaners came about with their large wheelie bin and even larger smiles. They spoke to each other in languages not from this neck of the woods. Both with a sense of purpose, they belonged to this still, heavily colonial landscape. The HMS Belfast in the backdrop, a ship that once roared across the World’s Seas now lay passive in the heart of London, a sleeping Jaguar hidden amongst the branches of a tree. Embankment was beautiful with its architectural design and large display of power. People from all walks of life would stroll by these buildings in admiration, forgetting what they once meant. Perhaps that is why they are so beautiful. An area once inaccessible by the agency of history, now yielded by the progress of modern thought. A group of three women he had never seen before, deemed familiar by previous childhood experiences. The family trips to Peru enabled him to recognise these women, a mother and her two daughters. To others they would have been another trio of strangers hidden amongst the crowd of tourists. Yet to him, they almost shared a familiar history. He wanted to talk to these three, to establish some form of repour, yet his anxious mind halted him from doing as such. Sometimes there are stories waiting to be told, ones that simply pass by you every day. A moment of courage allows two worlds to collide.

Fiction

The Red Linen Dress

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Red Linen Dress by Hennie Niemann

She sat there, perched on the windowsill like a cat. Her Grandma’s linen dress hugging her body closely. The last few years had really seen her figure change, a constant self-analysis hosted by the mirror on the back of the door. Secondary school had consisted of numerous memories of torment. Girls could be cruel and so could the teachers for that matter. Coming into her own at an early age had brought a lot of attention. So, from what seemed like the start of her teen years, Rachel had always been on the chopping block. It was no surprise then that she had obtained the habit of a lengthy getting ready process. Today she had finally decided to take out her grandmother’s red linen dress. The summer had well and truly arrived in the small coastal town of Weddington, the leaves shimmering under the warm sun. That Tuesday morning had seen a particularly confident Rachel wake up. So much so that she decided she could don the red linen dress that had been hanging in her wardrobe for the past 6 years. Waiting for her figure to represent the woman she was, the last few years had consisted of her dreaming of the day she was finally ready to wear the red dress. All the women in her family had been blessed with graceful curves. Even her Great Grandmother could not shroud her figure under the enormous crinoline she had to drag about on a day-to-day basis. Stories of Great Granny had been frequently heralded within the house, especially before bedtime. Rachel knew this dress was not merely a large piece of cloth, but a rite of passage, a symbol of her womanhood that had cemented her amongst the lineage of other Flimby’s that had existed before her. As she looked at her reflection in the mirror, she could not help but smile. Gone was the anxiousness and nerves that had plagued her previous mornings before university, greeting the aura of confidence that embalmed the red linen dress.  

: thoughts on footwear and fleeting poems