The Unreasonable Silence

Making Sense of the Human Condition

Why the ‘Merryneum’ isn’t actually a waste of time.

I hope you all had a great Christmas, and those of you lucky enough not to have to get straight back to work are enjoying this period of ‘Merryneum’. It’s a strange time in the calendar between Christmas and new year where the nation goes into some sort of weird parallel universe, lamenting the loss of excitement of Christmas but with trepidation of what the new year brings. My daughter calls it ChrimboLimbo. Some choose to fill the void with retail therapy, others fill it with TV binging. Then there are folk like me that really relish the unplugged feeling that time has somehow stopped in a Matrix style sequence where the film pauses, but you can still move around in some sort of new found freedom with more time to take in the view.

Literally at the turning of the day from Halloween, the shops were filled with Christmas fayre and now it’s barely hours before every supermarket in Britain will be unveiling their Easter offerings. Literally no one needs this except the shareholders of retail empires.. We are brain-washed into thinking it is necessary to spend 2 or 3 months preparing for something that lasts 2 days and it’s almost impossible for any of that actual reality to live up expectations. What we hope might happen is some sort of perfect yuletide experience of a lifetime, all rolled into a ‘best bits of Christmas’ compilation album. We put ourselves under ridiculous pressure to either put on the best show or make the best of someone else’s.

I love Christmas but I think I’d enjoy it even more if I wasn’t constantly being fed expectations over an extended period of how it should be. I guess this is what the ancients would describe as failing to live in the moment. In our efforts to plan the perfect time, we’ve completely missed the experience and the point. I think this is why I particularly enjoy the Merryneum. There are literally no expectations of what I should do, what the outcome should be, or whether even anything productive should result. It’s brilliant when something does, but equally I don’t feel too guilty when nothing happens at all, and I can spend quality time doing nothing. It’s kind of a Daoist principle. Once you get out of the way or more pertinently, remove your expectations of what should or shouldn’t be done, life flows. Often when relieved of any pressure to achieve anything, some of my best creative thinking comes out, music, lyrics, concepts, life changing revelations, crazy plans for the future and nostalgic trips back to past times. I’ve been rewarded this time with the practical inspiration to build the mother of all garage workbenches and will hopefully get in a lot more reading time, something I’ve massively neglected. Whatever you do, I’d urge you not to feel guilty about some notion that it’s a waste of time. Let your mind go where it needs to be. All the doors leading to exciting places, are on the wall not in the middle of the room, and sometimes we can’t see the exits because of all the furniture…

Parallel Lines

Parallel Lines

We are all aboard a train. Some of those people riding on the same train as you become friends, some you really don’t like and you move seats to another carriage. Lots of other people are doing the same as you and eventually you find that you’ve settled in seats with a group of people that you get on with and you like spending time with.

But then there is another train and it is running on different tracks than yours. The only reason you know about this train is that you have a special timetable that lets you know about all the other trains running around on different tracks in the world. Sometimes the train will stop at a station and in some random moment in time, your train will stop at the same time as another one. On that train is a stranger, they get off and so do you, and you chat on the platform and get on well. Then it’s time for one or other train to leave, and you say your goodbyes and continue your journey, settling back in your familiar seat in your favourite carriage.

You ponder that you’ve found a new friend and wonder when and if you will ever see them again. You travel on and at some future point the train stops again at a different station. Once again your new friend is there and you greet and catch up with each other’s journeys. Alas, time is against you and you depart and once again and return to your seat. The carriage has new people in it now, but more sadly some of the people you really liked have gone. You hear that they moved to another carriage, and some got off the train and boarded a different one. This repeats and repeats…

The friendship with the stranger runs in slow motion, almost as if the train was travelling faster than the speed of light. When you step off you are presented with your friend as you left them a few minutes or hours ago, even though for you, time had travelled on months or years…

I seem to have many of these time travelling friends. I reconnected with some old ones recently. After years, well actually decades of travelling on different tracks, we managed to coincide our journeys to arrive at the same station. It was like we hadn’t left each other 30 years ago, we carried on where we left off, although all of us had been on our own very long journey in all that time.

But what of the friends you occasionally meet on the platform. To you, the friendship runs at the most frustratingly slow pace or maybe never progresses beyond the same cycle of exchanging pleasantries and catching up with each others journeys. You can’t help but think what could be if they were on your train or you were on theirs, and you also wonder if you should just stop consulting the timetable to see when their train will arrive in the station at the same time as yours..

What we should learn from celebrity deaths.

Every time someone well known or well loved dies and I see such a strong sentiment of loss, I’m reminded to learn about that person and find out why their lives were so impactful. Then I ask what would I leave behind? What is our own legacy and story, something that will mean a lot to more than a few people?.

Think about this carefully. Money won’t score here as it will only help an immediate few family members. Your property portfolio, your investments, your cars, the 100s of holidays you’ve enjoyed, the tons and gallons of food and drink you’ve consumed won’t be remembered. Neither will how many reps you did in the gym or how many cosmetic procedures you had done, although these might have been tools to help you achieve something that would be remembered.

Your legacy is what counts here and in particular, how your life touched someone elses. Raising and teaching your kids, the charity work you’ve done, the therapy work where you literally put someone’s life back on course, the people who’s lives you changed by just being here…and doing your thing. The music you made and left behind…The TV and films that you produced. This is the stuff transcends death and time.

What’s really fascinating to me about Matthew Perry’s story is not the drugs he took, nor the money he made, but that he put a Matthew Perry shaped dent into human culture, a legacy where his character will be remembered in a pantheon of TV entertainment. But also that despite his own considerable demons, he spent so much of his time helping others with the same issues as him.

If you are struggling for a meaning to life then your answer I think is presented by those who have given it a meaning. Some people think it’s just there to be enjoyed, some believe it’s a commitment to service or duty, but for me, I need to follow an urge to leave a positive mark. I’m not asking for Matthew Perry levels of recognition, that, as it was for him would be a curse, but just leaving a world that has benefitted from you being there is surely an amazing thing. I think we should try to put our time into that, because that surely means the most.

Why many new artists struggle to get anywhere with their music…

I’ve been recently reading about this concept of ‘Priming’ in relation to psychology, and how we all unconsciously respond to marketing around us. Priming is the idea that exposure to one stimulus may influence a response to a subsequent stimulus, without conscious guidance or intention. It has a particular relevance for any artist trying to get interest in their music because we are all ‘primed’ to take the most interest when our favourite artist releases anything new.

Imagine two artists presenting the exact same album, literally the same songs, same singer, same band, same audio. One is released by a high profile artist that we know, the second is released by a completely unknown artist. Each is given the exact same marketing budget, is promoted on the same platforms, with the same advertising copy. It will be no surprise that the high profile artist will enjoy much greater interest, and will generally receive more engagement. Less surprising is that they will also receive much more negative criticism… The reason for this is that the audience has been primed with an expectation of how that music should sound. The reality may not meet their expectations. There are other priming influences; People will respond generally when they know other people will respond, a rolling snowball of engagement fuelled by feedback from others… The signal to purchase will be much stronger because people are primed to respond to similar buying signals when others do the same. There is a reason that people buy more band merchandise at gigs, this is priming in action.

The unknown artist will present their same album to an empty room. Much like an exhibition stand at a sales conference, the lack of interest, will fail to create any more interest. With no existing priming information, there is no reason even to walk over and investigate, no reason to click the link and hear the music. When you understand that people need to be primed to act, the way the marketing world works starts make sense, why large organisations spend millions putting logos in weird places with seemingly no context about the product they are selling. They are seeding primes… At the mere mention of the artist name, will have a view of what we think about them. This dictates all our future responses to anything they have to sell or promote.

When the product comes, we will all respond..or not..

Ignoring the fuel gauge – How your life will improve when you stop counting the days.

Confucius said “We have two lives and the second one starts when we realise we only have one”.

There comes a turning point in your outlook I think, when you have this realisation that the days in front of you are less than the days behind. Then I found there is another turning point sometime after that when you realise it’s not a good idea to count the days like that. I spent some time with my Dad recently who is in his late 70s and in rude health. I realised he was thoroughly enjoying his life and that enjoyment wasn’t coming from staring at the fuel of gauge of life and thinking I’ve got less than a quarter of a tank left, best make the most of it.

He’d made a new fuel gauge, one that is calibrated over the remaining quarter. Either that or he’d dismissed any notion of there being a gauge at all, which is even better.

So I think this notion of living your best days because there aren’t many left isn’t helpful. It’s better just to live, and I mean live in the active sense not a passive, ‘I’m just existing’, one. I can refine that further by saying I’m much more intolerant now of wasting time. If I spend my energy on something it’s got to pass a few tests.

1- Does it fulfil me?

2- Does it help fulfil someone else?

3- Does it sustain my resources to do 1 or 2?

I’ve also realised that success and achievement are highly overrated. Really bad things happen to successful people that only live for achievement. When they get to whatever goal they’ve set themselves, their lives suddenly become very empty, and dangerous things start to fill the void.. That’s what The Man Left In Space was all about.

Better to be fulfilled on the journey…which is why I’ve started writing music again.

A Musician’s guide to self worth.

I was asked recently about self worth as a musician and how to maintain it. I’m probably the worst person to ask as in many cases I’ve utterly failed to find it on many occasions. But like losing your car keys for hours and then suddenly finding them, I can at least offer some insight into what I’ve done to restore the equilibrium. I think the present landscape presents a fairly bleak outlook for any musician, but that’s not to say it’s hopeless. The problem is we are approaching the end of a unique and golden time in the history of the music industry, the era of the recording artist. It’s nearly done, over, and many of us are struggling to see the transition into something else.

A key tenet of maintaining any sort of self worth is to feel valued in what you do. So how do you remain valued when the world largely is increasingly indifferent to your art…. Music is now free right? I’ll aways remember an old work colleague saying to me once, when I told him that I was leaving the corporate world and was going to spent more time on my music career, he asked me to ‘send a copy of the album because I never pay for music…’ There was no joke or laugh at the end of his sentence, he was deadly serious and had no reason to suspect I would refuse such a generous offer of his interest in my labours. This was a nice guy who I’d worked with for many years who had just told me straight that he thought what I would be doing was utterly worthless to him in financial terms even though he was a music fan. If I’d offered to clear his gutters or change a tap washer for him he’d have got his wallet out and paid much more than the cost of a CD with no issue.

And there you have it. Self worth for musicians in one nugget. If the world doesn’t value you, you have no option but to do that for yourself.

Self-worth is one of the most elusive currencies in the music industry though. We are judged by how many streams we make, how many records we sell, how many people we played to… how many awards we have won.. In commercial terms, it’s a numbers game. When we do find a tiny fleck of success, it’s often fragile and fleeting. Even if you are successful, the world will judge the success of your next output by the metric of the previous one.

We are judged, scrutinised..We’re often bombarded with messages online that tell us we’re not good enough. We’re told that we need to sound like this artist, or that we need to play this genre, or that we need to do this to be successful. Then we are wrapped up in the game. We’re constantly comparing ourselves to other musicians and measuring our worth against external standards that have nothing to do with our own unique musical voice. He plays better than me, she’s got a better voice than me. He’s more confident on stage than me…We can also be defeated by our own expectations.

Seeking self-worth can be the foundation of a fulfilling musical journey. It’s the belief that we are valuable and deserving of respect, appreciation, and recognition simply because we have the courage to share our music with the world. It’s the understanding that our worth as musicians is not determined by external measures of success, such as the number of likes on our social media pages, the amount of money we make, or the size of our fanbase. Our worth is determined by our passion for music, our dedication to our craft, and our ability to connect with others through our art.

I’ve been doing this a while now, 9 Cosmograf albums and 10,000 hours of work. I still have the same enthusiasm to make and share music but the urgency of seeing my work in print and press has diminished somewhat…

In the early days I’d be seeking that external validation from reviews and comments, but now it’s more about what the music means to me. I’m also now slowing down on the output. An album release nearly every year was too demanding and to be honest I’ve no desire at all to repeat myself just to keep people happy.

Self worth means for me deciding that I want to do other things too, fulfilling personal projects and maybe things that will actually pay the bills. I’m also enjoying producing other bands, and musicians. Helping them out on their own musical journey is incredibly rewarding.

Some of us may decide that being a full time musician just isn’t realistic anymore and there’s no shame in that, none at all. Things have changed out of our control and you have to adapt. Being realistic and realising that you need to do other things to make money is definitely one of the best things you can do to protect your self worth.

Music will always be there for me, but I’ve consciously chosen to separate the art of making music from the expectation of being paid a living wage from it. There are easier ways to do that…and I’m working hard on those too. Touring isn’t featuring in this plan I’m afraid. There will be a few shows for sure, but I have no appetite for walking that perilous financial tightrope.

In some ways I’ve achieved the best solution. I am free to express myself as an artist without the pressure of making that output pay. This might mean I may move in unexpected creative directions as a result. I hope you’ll carry on listening…

Trigger’s Broom

And the paradox of prog fans that won’t accept change…

Those of you based in the UK may have a fond memory for a certain UK sitcom called ‘Only Fools and Horses’. One of the main characters was a hapless and rather gormless road sweeper affectionately known as ‘Trigger’, on account of his searingly trigger fast wit and *intelligence (*British sarcasm). Trigger once proclaimed to Del and Rodney in a famous sketch in the show, that he had used the same broom for 20 years….even though it has had 17 new heads and 14 new handles.. Apparently this is also called The Ship of Theseus Paradox. Plutarch asked whether a wooden ship which has had every single piece of wood replaced was still the same ship.

The paradox is alive and well in the world of prog too. I’m sure we all know a band or two of a certain name where the substantial part, or just all of the original members are no longer present. I’m not mentioning names here, online wars have been started in the name of such conjecture and my flameproof suit is at the cleaners.

As many of you know, I love the expressive world of irony, metaphor and allegory, and I do find it hilarious that a group of people of advanced years, not untainted by the ageing process, seem to be the least tolerant when it comes to new music from ‘Trigger’s Broom’ bands.

Like perennial teenagers stuck in Boomer bodies, their minds are stuck somewhere in 1973 when the giants of prog were in their caped and Mellotron adorned prime. Their bodies tell quite the different story of course and some are much larger, greyer, follically challenged and generally world weary (I include myself in this). So then wonder why they have such unreasonable expectations that a band can form in their teenage years and remain in a state of perpetual youth and brio for some 50 years, without disagreement in creative direction, or suing each other… without illness, death or a myriad of other life circumstances that dictate a change in the band lineup. As anybody who has actually been in a rock band will tell you, keeping any band together for more than 6 months is more than a minor miracle.

Prog fans are difficult to please it seems.

A post script to this is that according to research, our bodies replace many of their nearly 30 trillion cells regularly. About 330 billion of those cells are replaced every day. So by next week we could be almost entirely different beings than today. The bit that stops us morphing into multi-headed dopplegangers is that our DNA stays the same from the day of a cell’s birth until it dies. It also changes over time too, but much more slowly.

So we are all Trigger’s Broom… and as long as the music still sounds like your favourite band, I think it’s OK if they now don’t quite look like you remember.

Why You Should Support New Bands and not Pay £200 for a Concert Ticket.

There was an interesting disturbance in the music world recently when Peter Gabriel announced his long awaited concert tour. Amongst the excitement and furious activity to obtain tickets, was inevitably the consternation about the prices..

I have to admit I was in that camp. With the average ticket price somewhere around the £200 mark, I just wonder what has happened in the music industry where this is an acceptable price for a gig, even one as illustrious as the return of Mr Gabriel to the stage for the first time in nearly a decade.

A friend on Facebook recalled that they saw Peter at Birmingham Arena in 1983, for the princely sum of £7. Accounting for inflation over 40 years, the equivalent price in today’s money would be £21… So how did we get from there to £200?. Is it just the built up demand to see this legendary artist? or are there other forces at work?

To examine that, I think we need to look at where the record industry is now. Technology, in particular the concept of streaming, has bent the traditional model of physical record sales so badly that an artist at Peter Gabriel’s level now is almost giving music away as a loss leader to promote ticket and merch sales. Peter is long past having a number one hit album and even further from becoming a streaming sensation with a single track, but he is at least blessed with an older demographic that have followed him since the early days of Genesis, and many have bought all the records along the way. But that model died when Spotify levelled the music industry as we know it and made the largest all you can hear buffet of music for the princely sum of FREE….

Imagine travelling back to 1980 and saying to your mate in the record store. “You know, one day someone will invent this thing called the internet, and then someone will put all the worlds music on it, and you’ll be able to listen to any song you want for nothing…” I think the response would be something like “Get out of here and stay off the drugs!”. But this is exactly what has happened.

Back in the day, artists sold millions of records and then toured the hell out of the album. These days you get to consume the record for nothing, with the hope that you’ll pay through the nose to see the artist on tour and buy a barrowload of merch whilst you are there.

For artists at the other end of the spectrum like me, we are to some extent trying to navigate our way through a sea of fog without a clear idea of where land is. In the modern progressive rock genre, we are at least blessed with a very high percentage of fans that still value the physical record. Somehow, we also still have record shops in 2022, and a new appetite for vinyl that the pressing plants are really struggling to satisfy. I’ve been waiting over 8 months now for my own latest album to be pressed.

But a world tour at anything like £200 a ticket is the pension benefit for the rock dinosaurs of another era. There’s nothing here for even moderately successful musicians in a marginalised and uncool genre of music. But I guess this is common whatever music is being played on the stage.

The most successful contemporary exponent of prog currently is the reformed Steven Wilson led, Porcupine Tree, selling out sizeable venues across UK, Europe and the US. The ticket prices are also much more reasonable £65. Still not cheap though.

As I said on Facebook it also boggles my mind that a lot of people in that Peter Gabriel audience have thought nothing about paying £200 for a ticket, but would baulk at the prospect of spending £10 on a record from a new band. This for me is where the danger lies…

The sad thing here is that there will never be another Peter Gabriel, Genesis, Yes, Floyd or King Crimson. And the reason for that is the fans of those bands won’t give them up… and they will always be willing to throw huge piles of cash at everything their record labels offer for sale. Yet another Floyd remaster packaged in in a fir lined case with a vellum parchment booklet? “Sir, take my money!” No one should have to give up their heroes of course, but equally people need to be aware that unless you support the small guys, there will never be anyone to fill their shoes. Maybe they don’t want anyone filling their shoes?…I still hear people saying good music died in the late 70s…The more informed of us know that there are incredible bands in modern prog that are making music the equal of anything produced then, and in all the same traditions.

But now the industry has unrecognisably changed, we are all struggling to come to terms with what success now looks like. One of my artist friends joked that he never foresaw that his band would actually effectively become a clothing brand, as the only money he made was from selling merch, mostly T shirts at gigs.

A successful artist now in the prog world sells a few thousand CDs per release and can probably get around 100 people in a room for a gig at £20 per ticket. It can take at least 10 years of endless work to get to that level too. I’ve always struggled with this protracted slog of effort with the reward of virtually no financial return and you might have noticed I regularly bleat on about it. In my previous life in the water industry it was possible to navigate an entire career and triple your salary over the same period, and I didn’t even work as hard as I do now. But then again, if I was back in 1973 too, I wouldn’t have been signed and none of my music would ever have been heard.

When you work through these modest numbers, it’s not difficult to understand why ‘successful’, critically acclaimed, and in some cases award winning artists are taking second jobs and struggling to pay their energy bills.

It’s a shit business….



Why calling people toxic is toxic.

I’m really aware of this recent phenomena in Psychotherapy circles of calling people or relationships ‘toxic’. I see it all the time now on mental health blogs and I personally don’t think it’s helpful.

If you go around labelling everyone who offends you as ‘toxic’ you are in danger of actually making a very bold statement about yourself, in particular your intolerance for anyone that doesn’t share your views. I think it reinforces the notion that certain people are the cause of your problems and if you avoid them, your problem will go away. The truth is that virtually anyone can present a very challenging set of circumstances to you if you are experiencing a mental health crisis or simply going through a difficult period in your life.

The solution maybe is not to avoid everyone that you consider represents a threat to you but maybe to examine why you feel that way about that person, and why maybe others don’t. You might not like their behaviour or agree with what they’re doing, and you also don’t need to put up with it, but at least you can see it more objectively as someone’s own response to anxious behaviour, trauma, neglect or any other unresolved issue, rather than some notion that their behaviour is aimed at harming you.

I presented this idea on my Facebook page recently and had some interesting replies, some agreeing with me and a number of people who were really defending the use of the word.

It could of course be semantics over the words used but I just think the labelling doesn’t resolve the issue. For me when faced with this kind of situation, I need to confront the reasons why the behaviour was unacceptable, why the boundaries were crossed, and where to set them in the future, in order to be sure my actions were appropriate. Without that I’m just reinforcing the belief that everyone I meet is toxic if I don’t like the way they behave. I can’t see how that’s healthy.

A few people were concerned I was advocating a policy of ‘turning the other cheek’. That’s absolutely not the case and in many cases I was thinking absolutely the opposite. If someone wants to do harm to you, then show them clearly where those boundaries are in no uncertain terms. But the real battle comes afterwards when you have to deal with the fallout, post trauma… The therapy for that is a bit more complicated than simply labelling that person, or behaviour ‘toxic’, sweeping it under the carpet and moving on. There lies the danger of it being used as a fix all sticking plaster.

Experiencing trauma should not be a life sentence for living the rest of your life, and a good therapist should be able to help to reframe those events without the labels.

The view we take of these events is crucial to our mental health going forward.

I am Analogue man

I am Analogue Man – Why the Future is not like it’s shown on TV.

Despite enjoying many of the attractions of modern technology, in many ways I am ‘analogue man’, and here to remind you of what we have all lost in the unstoppable procession into the future…But maybe we haven’t lost much at all?

If you are old enough to remember the BBC series Tomorrow’s World that was very popular in the 70s and 80s, they delighted in showcasing the ‘Home of the Future’ giving us all a tantalising taste of how we’d all be using laser disc players, video phones and have robots doing the housework. Well elements of all those things came true, but maybe not quite as literally as they were depicted by Judith Hann and Michael Rodd all those years ago. The thing they didn’t factor into their futuristic predictions is that people don’t conveniently follow technology curves, throwing out everything that’s old and replacing it with new. They didn’t factor in that people kind of like old and new stuff and mix it all together.

Now we have smart phones capable of video calls, and there’s no need for laser discs, video recorders and minidisc players…. But get this! We ‘stream’ our music from data servers whilst still buying something called ‘vinyl records’, remember them?

You see, a lot of us still have this profound underlying need to connect to bygone eras. It’s not just nostalgia for Boomers or Generation X’ers either… Generation Z’ers are buying LPs for the first time and discovering The Beatles and The Stones. And they are finding out all about this historic music from their smartphones watching something called TicTak and FaceTube. This is the beauty of marrying old with new.

In the real world of Tomorrow, the wonderful thing is, you get to pick and choose. Our Homes of the Future are typically an eclectic mix of 4K TVs, smartphones with more processing power than Houston Mission Control in the 1960s, and carpet and furniture designed in the late 19th century. The Kubrick 2001 ‘esqe vision of bright red plastic furniture and white walls was cool for a while, but we got tired of Spaceman fashion and craved a return to the more sartorial elegance of an Edwardian country house. Just as long as there are enough USB charging points and a decent internet connection.

How many of us still read good old fashioned books but purchase them from Amazon on an iPad or Phone? Technology hasn’t yet killed off the book, and I don’t think it will kill off the CD either, which is another weird anomaly that is set to survive the streaming revolution.

My other job is repairing, and servicing vintage watches and to some extent I also make music ‘of a bygone era’, where again, I mix, quite literally, the old and new. I’m now the proud owner of a 2020 spec Apple Silicon M1 powered computer running the latest version of Logic which I can seamlessly interface with my handmade valve powered microphone pre amp designed by Universal Audio in the late 1960s.

Rolex steadfastly still make the most desirable and iconic watches in the world and, they are also the most environmentally sustainable too. They require no power, no nasty lithium mined batteries, take minimal energy to manufacture, last 100 years + and are worth more in 10 years than when you bought them. They are also less accurate and useful than a £30 Smartwatch. Which is why the two happily co-exist at the same point in history.

The thing is, the past is full of imperfection, crackles, hiss, noise, smell, heat, weight, inaccuracy, inconvenience, danger, and the digital world promises to solve all these problems. But we forget that we become fond of things that aren’t perfect. The imperfections that the analogue world creates, are the very imperfections us humans grow to love.

The crackle and warmth of vinyl, the distorting characteristics of an overdriven valve amplifier, the sound of the Mellotron trying to imitate a choir or strings. Then there’s the orange glow of filament bulbs, the smell of a leather interior, the sound of a V8 engine under load…You get the idea..

Some of these things disappear but they come back in digital form. Then people wonder how good the emulation is and get excited about rediscovering the original analogue design. Before you know it we are all paying ridiculous sums of money for stuff that was thrown out in the rubbish 50 years ago.

In the music production world we have plugins that emulate classic analogue circuitry. LED lights now mimic the look of filament bulbs and once we are over this initial phase of electric vehicles with the aesthetic appeal of household domestic appliances, my prediction is that a new era of EVs will arrive that resemble the classic lines of yesteryear. I have no doubt that EV sports cars will also come with a choice of organic engine noises played in the cockpit to hide the really awful ones like brakes squealing and tyres rumbling.

A good friend said to me once, that one day the digital world will be better at being analogue than analogue is….He may be right.

But on that subject of old things becoming desirable again. Here’s a fascinating question.. What are we are throwing away now that will become priceless to collectors in the 2070s?… Answers in the comments please…

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