Have you ever sat down and read at-all extensively about the futility of the human condition? Have you ever really plonked yourself down in your beanbag chair with a glass mug of your favourite chai tea and really contemplated the meaning of it all? Like how, with all your mixed emotions, twice greased palms and all that still sticky soled sobriety you’re still essentially as clueless as the man next to you who’s giddily watching re-runs of Friends on his iPhone on the train home? Do you think he’s ever sat crossed leg on his carpet at home, with a lemon curd filled croissant on a side plate next to him, wracked with a burning concern that he feels like his body is trapped on repeat for hours, days and weeks on end? Do you think he cares that his endless re-watching of a recycled 90s sitcom is somewhat ironic in an age of government funded adverts for super-fast broadband gruffly voiced by the actor who plays the outcast warrior in Game of Thrones? Or do you think it’s actually the first time he’s ever even seen Friends? And that he himself feels a rather heavy pressure to try and catch up on it all so much that he watches it at every possible moment because people like you keep referencing it and because Channel 5 keep showing ’90s themed clip shows that repeatedly refer to ‘the Rachel’ haircut, ironically, like it was the single best human achievement after some next level detritus of a panel show where gormless duck lipped zeppelins try to talk about the social implications of Keith Chegwin saying a racial slur to an American lady who no one’s ever even seen before but is happy to show everyone her nipples because, hey, she’s ‘comfortable with her appearance’? Have you ever sat down and thought at-all attentively about the opulent wealth of the human condition?
Matt Karmil’s Shades EP will be out on 3rd February via Yumé.