The NEARLY SHOW: Recent Episodes
Chris Ifso
Songs and sounds by Chris Ifso, transmedia writer and Doctor of Nearlyology, with Chris (vocals and ukulele), Abbie Coppard (vocals), Alistair McEachern (bass guitar), Iain Stewart (guitar) plus collaborations with Alastair Gavin (keyboards), Peter Forbes (lead guitar).
Asemic art, diagnosed with bowel cancer, trying to come to terms with mortality, humdrumming and the repercussionists
Setting up if;book uk, exploring digital possibilities for literature, These Associations at Tate Modern, becoming a Nearlyologist...
From Sheffield to Birmingham Imagination Services - Meet the Decade Day, Silence Project etc in Brum llbraries - becoming Director of the Poetry Society, the Twerlies sitcom, Booktrust and fundraising for Bookstart, Friendly Literature Organisations...
Chris tells the story of his working life in half hour-ish chunks. Part one: from childhood in Hampstead to creative days in Sheffield.
Chris Ifso on the future, future of the book, a nude man and radical pensioner Betty Spital. There's also a shanty for modern workers and a jingle about now.
Feature made in 1983 for Radio Sheffield's Dave Sheasby, featuring my dad and many others. Made weeks before Joe was born.
In the olden days everything was ok In the now howl out against the new Re-do the hokeypokeycokey Stick your left hand in and out of the cliche stew Let’s take what glows and fizzes in this instant And diss it disparage it piss on it Take your comfort zone and plant a flag in it Saying this is the real thing, this is the greatest hit
I sing the shanty of fish gutters Nappy changers, silent shoppers Sing the shanty of shelf stackers Office cleaners, packet trackers Fact checkers & Home schooolers Shop assistants, bankers, jewellers, Traindrivers and trainees Makers of pornography Deliveroos and postvan drivers The dedicated and the scivers, Those who work in every weather Those who don’t quite get it together
I sing the shanty of all workers In suits in skirts in burkas Musicians, dancers,2 actors Farmers, fixers up of tractors Sing the rhythm of their labours Pumping power generators Clicks of keyboard pings & apps Beats that make em swing and tap, Drums of tin and cardboard box The motor hums, the factory rocks With thuds of big machinery The swoosh of washing up the tea
I sing the shanty of baristas Nursery teachers, babysitters Those afloat on fortunes fluid Vicars, Imams, rabbis, druids Therapists, future proofers, Beauticians, barbers, roofers Builders, bakers, cooks, and drainers Pensioners and personal trainers
Ones who work at night alone The ones who work online, on phone, The unemployed & the enslaved, The rather bored, the very brave, Those who jab drugs in our arms Let none of these folk come to harm
A new song, thanks to Julian of Norwich for the chorus. Image available to buy from https://nationalcentreforwriting.org.uk/National
ALL SHALL BE WELL SHALL BE WELL
All shall be well shall be well And all manner of things shall be well
Clear us clear us clear us clear us Clear the air the ice the flame Burn all traces from our bodies Till not a speck remains
I'm not one for necromancy We need a vaccine for the soul Body brain and planet reeling as we head towards the big black hole
All shall be well shall be well shall be well
It's true time turns in spirals Same old cycles, massive change And history courses through our bodies Then it swims out of our veins
These are our real lives - nobody’s joking we have to learn new ways of touching and coping.
All shall be well shall be well shall be well
Bathe in light in sound in rhythm Skinny dip in information streams Hope hope hope the healing happens See you in your dreams.
All things pass but life continues Seasons change and lifetimes fly bye bye Re-Generation re-creation Re us and them and you and I
Clear us clear us clear us clear us Clear the air with ice with flame Flush all traces from our bodies Till not a speck remains
And all shall be well shall be well...
Chris Ifso continues to document his experience of chemotherapy in lockdown and this time reads two (lighter) bits of life-writing - diary entries and a short piece about his grandmother.
The Nearly Show with Chris Ifso writer and nearlyologist, experiencing chemo in lockdown. An upbeat episode about newsagents and hums and stuff. Feeling good today in the midst of these hard times for all. Much love.
I'm in a zoom songwriting group which recently discussed prog rock and its complex time signatures - which led to me to make this psychedelic snippet which I dedicate to my mate Nick with whom I dropped acid and attended Yes concerts back in the day -weird but happy times!
ANTHEM TO THE PENTANGULOUS PRINCE
We talked all night long Can’t remember why What we said went wrong We were far too high
Acid in our blood Things looked very wild Saw the dawn arise Felt the inner child
This boy with long hair Hanging down his face Playing air guitar Ours was no disgrace
Yes we said to life Love and drugs and sound Strugglesome with strife Underground Abounds.
Dancing on the roof Lying on the floor. Eyes lock onto hers Promising far more
On the astral plane But not actually. Me and my mate Nick Wake up hungrily
Coming down at last Except now or then Over breakfast we Feel the weird again
And you and I go Down to the high street Up to the cosmos Round to the Starfleet
Out of tiny minds Into the far out Off to the big wide Round the roundabout
They open up my belly Take out a fist of pain Scrape me out and staple me Back together again
Scan me for impurities Attach me to a plastic drip Infusing all my innards I’m floating like a ship
On a medicated ocean In a drug-induced tempest To the island of my body Where I writhe and rest
See no means to climb Or claim this monolith of flesh Everything is out of reach This tiny room this slightest breath….
In the endurances The hope of clearances The love of families The wondering when the ending is The tapping on the body bits The singing through closed lips
Humdrumming
I’ve got fizzy fingers I’ve got champagne toes Metallic mouth Stinging nose
Poison ink Flushed through my veins Just might make me Well again
Out of the Repair Shop With a bag I have to place Around the stoma like a berry Sticking out above my waist
I’m soft and dry orgasmic With my insides moved outside And I wonder where my essence now resides
In the endurances The hope of clearances The love of families The wondering when the ending is The tapping on the body bits The singing through closed lips
Humdrumming
Podcast on all things nearlyological, and now exploring the experience of chemo in lockdown as I recover (hopefully) from an op for bowel cancer. Fuelled by steroids, I've found this time creative and exploratory as well as bloody hard.
The third of my chats re my experience of chemotjherapy in lockdown. You can see a video of this on the Chris Ifso channel on YouTube and at www.nearlyology.net.
WHERE THE WILD THINGS WENT
New Year’ s Eve in Lockdown 2020 There aint never been a moment quite like this before. That’s true of any day of course But perhaps this one just a little bit more.
By the time the local cafes have re-opened He should be ready to hang out in them again. He’s been doing chemotherapy for the past 4 months And in a month or two it’ll be coming to an end
When the time is up When the air is clear When the drugs wear off When we can face the fear
Where the shit year ends And the next one starts Like a wheel within a wheel Like a corkscrew to the heart
Now he’s looking for some new year’s resolution, Doing Tarot cards while lying in his bed Has he done everything he needs to do? Has he said whatever needs to be said?
When the stars throw down their spears And water heaven with their tears Will he smile his work to see? Or sigh and moan a lot and watch his big fat flat screen smart tv
Watch the nation trashed Watch the planet fry Watch the city crash Watch the stand up die
See where the wild things went Where the bad times go When the circuits break Where the flood waters flow
When they get to go to Suffolk again It’ll be dark as dark as dark They can try to make the cottage feel cosy Light the real coal fire and hope to light a real spark
The four of cups says take it easy, take a rest The Fool says go for it, set off, After all it’s the journey that’s best. The Moon is witchy, maybe lying, but don’t get too distressed Cos there’s nothing in these cards Except an angle on what you choose to express
And all he needs is clarity “Think of yourself as already dead Take what’s left and live it properly. Follow your nature – that’s what the Stoics said.
Go where the wild things went Where the green shoots grow Where the broken mends Where the healing waters flow
Where the shit year ends And the new one’s born A lamb emerging wobbly In a cold uncertain dawn
Love and thanks to Jorg Dubin and John Gough and all those I've worked and played with on creative projects, from our school happening in 1969 to The Birmingham Humline in 1992 and now Humdrumming with Dreaming Methods on chemo in lockdown. This podcast contains thoughts and feelings about my treatment for bowel cancer. You can also watch it on the Chris Ifso Youtube channel.
Chris Ifso, Writer & Doctor of Nearlyology talks frankly about cancer and creativity, stoicism, therapy and art, dance improv on Zoom, hope, utopianism, drumming on my body and singing through closed lips. See the video version on the Chris Ifso channel on YouTube(ps During this podcast Chris talks about a silver chain bracelet in this podcast - but doesn't describe it. Sorry)
HUMDRUMMING
They open up my belly Take out a fist of pain Scrape me out and staple me Back together again
Scan me for impurities Attach me to a plastic drip Infusing all my innards I’m floating like a ship
On a medicated ocean In a drug-induced tempest To the island of my body Where I writhe and rest
See no means to climb Or claim this monolith of flesh Everything is out of reach This tiny room this slightest breath….
In the endurances The hope of clearances The love of families The wondering when the ending is The tapping on the body bits The singing through closed lips
Humdrumming
I’ve got fizzy fingers I’ve got champagne toes Metallic mouth Stinging nose
Poison ink Flushed through my veins Just might make me Well again
Out of the Repair Shop With a bag I have to place Around the stoma like a berry Sticking out above my waist
I’m soft and dry orgasmic With my insides moved outside And I wonder where my essence now resides
In the endurances The hope of clearances The love of families The wondering when the ending is The tapping on the body bits The singing through closed lips
Humdrumming
First thoughts on some bad health news. I'm a bit mean about alternative therapies in this - sorry - just not my scene, though the issue gets me thinking. Lots of gratitude to lovely family and friends though. Many nearlies thrown up suddenly.
Sue Thomas is a novelist and digital innovator, author of Technobiophilia. Here she interviews Chris Ifso in depth about Nearlyology, 5.02: Characters in the novel, 11.23: Plotting and trimming, 13.46: The role of music in the book, 17.00: Nearlyness and Virtuality; 25.21: Nearly Process, 26.49: Self publishing and Beyond. 34.20: What's Next.
DOING ZOOM
Everybody wears a mask Everybody feels the fear Everybody's distancing Everybody's very near
Everybody’s aching for a touch For a whatsapp, kiss or text No-one knows what's going on No-one knows what happens next
Everybody's in the same boat Everybody's in the front room Everybody's in the same strange Everybody's doing zoom
Everybody sees the news Everybody sighs and curses Everybody’s bingeing fleabag Everybody claps the nurses
Everybody’s hair is so long Everybody longs for someone Everybody loves the birdsong Everbody’s putting pounds on
Everybody's in the same boat Everybody's in the front room Everybody's in the same strange Everybody's doing zoom
Everybody’s careful careful Everybody not quite jogging Everybody getting tearful Everybody’s online shopping
Everybody wears a mask Everybody feels the fear Everybody's distancing Everybody's very near
Everybody's in the same boat More or less marooned Everybody's in the same strange Everybody's doing zoom
Dr Chris Ifso outlines his manifesto for the Nearly Arts at a time of DIstancing - based on a performance lecture delivered at the Schmiede 2019 maker festival in Hallein, Austria. How to nearly/write/dance/sing and make our own nearlyculture in isolation.
Dr Chris Ifso explains how Nearlyology might help us cope with lockdown and social distancing. Song: 'Here's the Thing' by Chris & The Ifso. Find out more at www.nearlyology.com
Chris Ifso reads an exerpt from his novel 'WHAT DIDN'T QUITE' which is on sale at Amazon as Kindle and paperback. This passage is set at Tate Turbine Hall in the midst of Tino Sehgal's artwork of 2012, 'These Associations'.
On Nearly touching, sexual distancing and exploring your inner creepiness. Interview with Beate and Mathis of Luhmen d'Arc, organisers of sex positive events include a workshop on "Creepy Old Men"
Actor Cindy Oswin tells all about her Nearlies with drum legend Max Roach, actor and womanizer Warren Beattie, Mark Rylance, Her Majesty, Sitcoms & Nudity
Chris Ifso, writer and Nearlyologist, talks about travelling in a campervan, reading Maggie Nelson's The Argonauts, visiting Leonardo's house and thinking about time, dance, pain, desire and other things too. Music: True Story by Chris & The Ifso
In this first trial podcast, Chris Ifso Doctor of Nearlyology, talks to Bill about the two dads he nearly had. They discuss masculinity, age, feminism and fatherhood, reveal secrets of masturbation interruptus and condoms in the sock drawer. Music: Nearlyology & In The Nearly. Please 'like' and leave comments below. For more info go to www.nearlyology.net