Desperate

Alexandrine Ogundimu Desperate (2020)
In which, it might be argued, Amphetamine Sulphate somehow slip a title in amongst the yuletide canon inhabited by A Christmas Carol, Frosty the Snowman, A Charlie Brown Christmas and others by virtue of V, the central focus of Desperate, spending the happiest time of year with family and taking entirely non-ironic delight in all its trappings. V is some sort of student of literature resident in New York, just about getting by, drinking more than seems advisable, and occasionally standing upon a subway platform wondering what might happen should he step in front of the next train.

It would probably be lazy to describe Desperate as stream of consciousness, although that's sort of what it is with its long, long paragraph length recursive, rambling sentences following V through the landscape of his own approximately functional existence; but the effect is a kind of sensory overload which works very well in conveying a sense of the territory, the disorientation, and occasional excursions away from the sexual mainstream. It feels somehow like a map of New York and, for my money, does a better job of it than Steve Finbow's Mindshaft - the last Amphetamine Sulphate title I read - not least because it's shorter and sharper, yet not without a certain tender quality; also because the text somehow lends itself to the cadence of Lydia Lunch.

I'm very glad Amphetamine Sulphate hasn't completely turned its back on the chapbook format because this otherwise might not have seen the light of day, and it's a cracker. Once again I'm impressed by how each new addition to the catalogue seems to bring something different to the table.