https://youtu.be/0oox9bJaGJ8?si=oYeQnRKlUetOPbIA
Envisions good ’70s-vibes. Scooby-Doo haze. Afros, Jheri-curls, typewriters, smoky pubs (for my sins), disco, post-Biafra migratory trends for Igbos (although initial migration in Liverpool, for one, had coalesced officially since as far back as 1935) and resilient renaissance after the war, the initial imprints of maple-smoked jollof rice cooked in cast-iron pots, the lot. The shift from post-war austerity into something looser, richer (even golden) and more groovy.
It might not be venlafaxine or phenelzine exactly but it’s got a similar groove. It’s a song that can curb the liminal melancholy (boredom, in plain English) of Sundays.