Boards of Canada and Memories

I became aware of the band Boards of Canada about 30 years ago.  I suspect, but don’t remember, that hearing them for the first time was one of many gifts of listening to the radio DJ John Peel late at night.  Boards of Canada quickly became one of my favourite bands and maybe my all-time favourite. 

They are an electronic duo – brothers – who were born in Scotland.  They spent some of their childhood in central Canada.  It seems to have been there that they picked up some of their earliest influences including nature and cultural history as depicted in numerous documentaries by the National Film Board of Canada.  Their music keys into nostalgia and childhood with themes including the environment, psychedelia and spirituality. 

They have only produced five albums (plus a few early EPs).  The fourth album was long awaited after a gap of seven years and we have had to wait another 13 years for their latest album: ‘Inferno’

Fortunately, in my view, and in the view of most reviewers, it has been worth the long wait.  It feels like the most structured and complete of their albums.  The cut-up vocals have a sense of greater purpose than on earlier albums and the focus on religion, alien life signals and spirits is slightly unnerving but interesting.  I love it!

I have played it through a few times.  On my way back from the Food Bank where I volunteer once a week (a two-hour walk mainly along tree lined footpaths), I looked up some of the song titles on the Internet.  With help from Google, I was able to get some inklings into what many of the tracks on the album are about and their underlying themes.  I learnt about Nostradamus (‘Age of Capricorn’), Hindi Hell (‘Naraka’), the significance of 1420MHz, which is apparently is the radio frequency of hydrogen and a critical band for radio astronomy and the search for extraterrestrial intelligence (‘Prophecy at 1420MHz’), and much more.

Along My Walk To The Food Bank - Wild Garlic Earlier This Year
Along My Walk To The Food Bank – Wild Garlic Earlier This Year

I was particularly taken by the references on the internet relating to the track title ‘Memory Death’.  This may well relate to the period occurs between clinical death (when breathing and circulation stop) and biological death (irreversible cessation of all cellular function) during which the brain may be active.  Some have postulated that this period can last several minutes and that, during this time, the brain replays memories; some conjecture that it replays the best memories.

I was strangely moved by this concept.  It got me thinking about what my best memories, to be replayed during my memory death, might be.  To my shame I struggled to think of them.  Admittedly I was walking and so not fully concentrating on the task of remembering, but I was shocked to find that, at first, all I could think of were relatively ‘bad’ memories.

For example, my earliest memory is of being alone at night in hospital having my tonsils removed.  I was awake and kept flicking, no doubt noisily and irritatingly, a bit of loose Formica on a bedside table.  I recall the nurse coming over and telling me off.  I was four years old.

I remembered illnesses (measles, an infected leg, pneumonia), crashing a car in Kuwait before I had my driving license, funerals and one occasion of being reprimanded at work.  I struggled in the moment to remember the good stuff. (My wife tells me that I shouldn’t have been so surprised at that since I’ve always been a bit of a half empty person).

Gradually I forced out some positive memories but I have resolved to find some time to think harder about those ‘good’ memories and perhaps write the best ones down.  Goodness knows, there have been so many good experiences in recent years especially family holidays, the arrival of grandchildren and just in the everyday of retirement.  But I wonder if I have become too reliant on recaps with the myriad of photos on my phone and have failed to sear memories and images onto my brain. 

The Boards Of Canada Albums
The Five Boards Of Canada Albums So Far

I’m going to think about this more and try documenting memories to help me remember how fruitful my experience of life has been.  Meanwhile, I’m going to continue to listen to Boards of Canada and to hope there will be another album, even if we have to wait another 13 years for it.

A Tough Month For Alcohol Targets

In 2005, when I was working hard, doing a lot of work-related socialising and then coming home at weekends to unwind, I started to plot the number of alcoholic drink-free days I was having.  I’d read that one’s body (the liver especially) needed rests from alcohol to recover.  I realised that I wasn’t managing those rests well and so started monitoring alcohol free days. 

By 2017, when I retired, I had progressed from about a quarter of days being alcohol free to about a third.  However, what I noticed after retirement was that, on the alcohol days, I was drinking more than I probably should.  Guidelines had been issued by health bodies saying that 14 alcohol units per week was the approximate safe level of drinking.  I felt that achieving that would be too ambitious but I started pairing the tracking of alcohol-free days with counting of alcohol units I drank each day.

By 2018 my target was to drink alcohol on no more than 50% of days each month and to restrict myself to 100 units of alcohol per month.  That was much more than the guidelines but still challenging for me.  My monitoring was helped by the MyDrinkaware App which helps calculate the units for each drink I consume.  The advent of half-decent no-alcohol beers has also helped!

I have achieved both self-imposed targets since January 2021 and I’m pretty proud of that.  However, even though my progress has plateaued, I am not inclined to push myself further.

Progress Of A Sort
Progress Of A Sort

It’s harder to achieve the targets in some months than in others.  Months with 31 days mean I have to be alcohol free on 16 of those to achieve my target.  Also, some months have more weekends than others and, despite retirement, the weekend is still when I tend to reach for wine and beer most frequently.  Some months have Bank Holidays too.  Plus, some months contain big celebrations or holidays.  The May that has just passed was one such tough month.

May this year not only had its usual 31 days but there were two Bank Holidays, five weekends, my birthday and a brief holiday in Pembrokeshire to celebrate it, plus a ‘Hogfest’ beer festival at The Hog, Horsley, our village pub.  I managed to achieve my targets but doing so was quite constraining in the last week of May and it got me thinking about whether I need to be so diligent.

The Hog At Horsley
‘Hogfest’ At The Hog At Horsley

The trouble is that the longer the period over which I have achieved the targets – over 5 years now – the more it seems a shame not to continue to meet them.  As with all things, there is a balance to be struck.  My physical health is almost all-important and all the evidence suggests that alcohol is bad for it; I’m lucky to have lived this long but I want to live healthily for longer.  On the other hand, holidaying, socialising and relaxing with a glass of wine or chatting with mates in the local pub over a few beers is restful and, I think, healthy for the mind.

June, July and August are always challenging for me in terms of meeting my alcohol targets because it is often tempting to capitalise on the relatively sunny weather with a glass of wine in hand in the garden.  But September is going to be the next really tough month for me.  Then, we are off on a holiday in Europe where eating and drinking in cafes and restaurants will be a constant temptation – indeed, a requirement. 

I’m determined that I will remember that the alcohol targets are self-imposed and are not incontrovertible.  Maybe I’ll continue to meet them, but maybe short-term aims for a happy social life will get in the way.