Nottingham to Notting Hill. A Quick trip to the East Midlands by funky hairdryer and another to West London by bike. Again, I play, I dance, shoot, collect a few simple images that somehow symbolise the state of our nation.
In Nottingham we see the classic pedestrianised shopping street, emptied of people when the retail day ends; empty of real human spirit, life and energy all the time; scary with groups of boys, drunk beyond reason, because they think thatâs what boys do, shouting at fat girls with pink plastic phones and pink plastic nails and peroxide straw hair and tiny trotters, wondering why they canât get a shag.
In London, for two days only, the street becomes the party. One million people, 50 sound systems, all that bass and so much love as the Carnival celebrates 64 years of demonstration, music and roots and culture. As we celebrate the wonderful eccentricity and creativity and diversity of humanity in the city. As we think of the future, the possibilities and the probabilities.
Take this: New moves on the tarmac dancefloor. In this yearâs sound clash in our preferred area – Good Times vs Aba Shanti vs Sancho Panza, itâs Aba Shanti that comes out on top.
More bass power, more sunshine energy. Wave your flag, wave your flag.