Kurt's Karass

Kurt Vonnegut is one of my favourite writers. I like his style. I like his thoughts and ideas. He also gave a name to something I recognise in my own life, the concept of karass. Coincidentally it was someone I have now reconnected with in Manchester who first introduced me to karass back when I was a teenager. Karass is defined as a group of people linked in a cosmically significant manner, even when superficial links are not evident. As a teenager who had been cut off from family and childhood friends when I was sent away from Manchester to boarding school, this was a word that helped give a name to the significant friendships and connections I made as I created my new family of friends to replace the family life I had lost. Coming back to Manchester has made me acutely aware of those connections, some lost in the past, but more than I could have imagined have returned to my present. I was invited to a birthday party this week by Melanie Smith of Mudkiss Photography. We have been doing music reviews together for a couple of months. She takes amazing photos and she had been asked to go and take some party photos. The party was for someone I thought I had no connection with. Aziz Ibrahim was part of The Stone Roses and that era of Manchester's music history isn't mine. I'd moved out of town and was bringing up my family. Then I realised that he'd been part of Simply Red and Asia. Simply Red as a band were good friends and even helped me move house once upon a time. They had a van and needed the money. Geoff Downes of Asia, and the Bugles, was part of my group of friends at university. A couple of us were out for a catch up drink with him the night Bugles went to number one. Listening to Aziz talk about his friends,his schooldays, his family of relatives and musicians, his support and connections, his homecoming to Manchester, I was reminded of the concept of karass. A fiftieth birthday is a good time to reflect on where you come from and where you're going. His support for young musicians was obvious. He gave them a chance to showcase their talents to his guests. He's now part of their karass. I used to live and work in Longsight in the late 1970s. It occurred to me that Aziz might have been one of the teenagers I used to pass on my way to work or the market. I started the evening feeling a bit of a gatecrasher. By the end of the evening I felt like one of the family.