1. Head of Destinations
alumni (young people):
current raft of measures
access to longer-term destination measures
richer data about alumni
identifying a barrier
long-term positive outcomes for their community
an invaluable measure
for our students
to the short-term
intended destinations /
quality outcomes data /
these combined sources
provide data /
current sole source;
internal data access /
employment final destinations /
*(today’s response to one of the most souless articles I have ever read on students and education in a weekly ‘schools’ magazine/journal)
Over-indulging an analysis of the album’s title, one word is totally apt and the other far less so: drift perfectly reflects the lives of each song’s persona/s as they aimlessly move through life, literal and metaphoric, without any anchoring and despite whatever positive hope they might hold; sea is an unnatural fit with its number of positive connotations, and even the dual balance of ‘ebb and flow’ overstates when Willy Vlautin’s characters are inescapably stuck in the former direction.
As ever, the beauty of The Delines music frames unavoidable disappointments. Opener Little Earl is classic Vlautin storytelling where a car journey is placed within two dark poles when ‘The AC don’t work and Earl’s sick in the Gulf Coast heat’ and then the seemingly desperate drive to a hospital to perhaps save Earl’s life from an unknown injury
‘Little Earl don’t know what to do
He’s looking for a hospital even though his brother don’t want him to
He’s starting to panic he’s too scared to stop
He’s never driven at night and he keeps getting lost’
These lines are Carver-eque in their lack of explaining detail yet brooding tone. This of all songs on the album contains an ironic musical injection, the ‘Oh No, Oh No’ following the verse above – and once more after the third of four – as a choric and bright-sounding response, though clearly a universal empathy for its tragic propulsion.
The string and horn arrangements by Cory Gray make an additional prettiness as gesture to the overriding lament of the stories being told – those horns with a TexMex flavour and also plaintive harmonising as in Drowning in Plain Sight.
Amy Boone’s vocal is never more emotionally attuned to dislocation and loss than in the gorgeously sad All Along the Ride. A song about the breakdown in a relationship, this car journey is narrated through her perfect capture of life’s inevitable imperfection. The following largely horn instrumental Lynne’s Lament consolidates the beautiful despair. And then there is the simple acoustic guitar backdrop to Surfers in Twilight, that is until a horn once more weighs in with yet further sweet indifference to its storyline of the sudden disruption to an anticipated everyday meeting.
Sorrow and beauty / beauty and sorrow.
More of my reviews of Willy Vlautin’s music and writing can be found here.
I found this today in searching for other things from the past!
Written with Rupert Loydell, we reflect on the importance of writers working in schools: he visiting mine on a number of occasions to run always purposeful, productive writing workshops.
Seems to me that little has changed, apart from how now I suspect it is so much more difficult to ‘justify’ paying to have visiting writers. 2004 was hardly a time of creative purpose in those running education from afar, but there was more freedom for those with the will to personally direct some of their focus on what mattered – like creative writing within schools whose curriculums (general, and English in particular) were otherwise geared to testing as well as narrow applications; certainly little celebration of the metaphorical! It’s more complex than this, but anyone bothering to read here will understand.
The final piece from my satirical novel Writing with Hammers will, I trust, speak for its own metaphoric self.
Probably the first ‘grid’ concrete poem I have written – many years ago and prompted by the work of Edwin Morgan