#about it. and i DID listen to 'timeless' on repeat & feel so emotional over it i literally felt like i was going to throw up <3

[gayfranzkafka]

(insane post incoming) okay i've been a taylor swift re-recordings hater since the beginning but the Speak Now re-recording is making me INSANE i think it's partially just that i'm having a weird time emotionally anyway but like "Timeless" made me TEAR UP like bro WHAT like something about it being soooo essentially of that era but new like the novelty of it BONKED me over the head with a reminder of what it felt like to hear all those songs off Speak Now for the first time when i just had this IDEA of what love was & hadn't actually experienced it yet (& wouldn't for many years!!) like way before i even knew i was a lesbian just listening to taylor sing "enchanted" alone in my bedroom wondering who the guy she was singing about was & if she ever saw him again (because i was #blessed to not have internet access and therefor not know it was the dude from owl city she was singing about alsdfhaklsdhfasdh) & i remember just pouring through the little lyric booklet & its pictures & intro & mostly it was just me & the music & this picture of her in a ballgown in my head & this made up but hopeful romantic idea of what love is and like S C R E A M

[wordsandsound14]

Switchfoot albums ranked (not including interrobang)

I've been thinking about this a lot too recently. Ik I'm late to the party on this one but I don't get on reddit often. Only got on since the band did the ama. I won't include interrobang since it's so new and ranking it seems difficult. (worst to best)

11. Learning to Breathe - While this record has some of the best written songs (Learning to Breathe, The Loser, Love is the Movement), it also has some of my least favorites (Poparazzi, Innocence Again, Living is Simple). I often just find myself bored with this album and disappointed. There are plenty of dipping of toes in ideas and then abandoning them. For instance, the beginning of Erosion is such a cool unique sound and then it's abandoned for the rest of the song. The themes of this album are also really boring to me, even when I was a christian. I just found it wasn't taking a unique perspective or doing anything different with its themes when they have done so before.

10. Where the Light Shines Through - I feel this was the band when they were the most uninspired. It feels like it was trying to sell itself to the CCM crowd and make some waves there since it's been the most consistent place of making waves and it still didn't do that. Don't get me wrong, there are great songs here (If the House Burns Down Tonight, Float, Holy Water). The first half of this album is super good. It's that back half that feels like an axe to the first half. Every song on the back half has something that disappoints me. And I'm fine with christian themes and all but it felt like this album had more just praise songs vs the questioning of faith. Would've been a great EP and it kinda made sense that they went into hiatus after this album. I also feel that the themes of the album didn't really make it to it. Jon talked about how he was in a some struggle and storm before the album and then by the time they got recording it more so became an album after the storm. And I just wonder what was going on. Cause there's only small hints. I can only feel that an album that actually talked about that or coming out of the storm would've worked but we got way after the storm and leaving a lot of good inspiration behind in a ball of mystery that we still don't know about. I don't need to know every information that he went through but the songs got effected by it.

9. New Way to be Human - I think what holds this album down the most is it's lack of direction. I can feel them trying to tackle all of their ideas from folk to pop to indie while maintaining their identity. I just don't feel these ideas get fully fleshed out. But these songs are really well written and the philosophy bleeding into these tracks and ending up being a basis of many future songs can all be tracked back to this album. This album is just a very specific listen so I don't often turn to this album. I do think Something More is the most overlooked song, with Amy's song being a close second. I also think Incomplete is a just a better version of I Turn Everything Over so it feels like a repeat track. But I really appreciate what this record represents in their career and see it as a stepping stone of sorts. (Company Car is one of their best earlier works)

8. Native Tongue - Seems a lot of people have very different feelings about this work. I think the biggest thing that makes Native Tongue feel distinct is that it feels like a Jon Foreman project with Switchfoot. Like Jon was the only one who couldn't stay away from the studio and was calling the other members. They came and were happy to but it was Jon with the initiative. At least, it's how it sounds to me. A lot of these ideas are incomplete. But when they aren't, they hit really well (Native Tongue, Dig New Streams, Oxygen). And the amount of trying different things! Granted a lot of ideas of modern production ideas but I'm glad they happened. But some I'm not too fond of (Joy Invisible, Wonderful Feeling, The Strength To Let Go). I feel this album also really fell short without a good producer. It's not the production value that doesn't work but Switchfoot works best when there is a producer there that works with them and pushes them. I fell they could have been better but it also has some solid songs in here.

7. Legend of Chin - This is one of the most fun Switchfoot records but has such a distinct sound and charm to it. I understand that a lot of songs are about girls that Jon doesn't even know any more but there isn't a bad song on here. It's all just fun from 3 guys jamming in a room. I used to not like the closing track but it's grown on me and I crave that sound more and more. Some standout tracks are Home, Chem 6A, You. With Underwater being a super creative song. I don't have a ton to say other than this is root Switchfoot and their cores are on display here.

6. Fading West - I feel this is their most misunderstood record. The struggle this album went through is tremendous. Take the two best things Switchfoot is known for and strip them away and they still make a record worth listening too imo. It's not their best but it's really ambitious, even if accidental. Originally, they were going to only strip the guitars away but when you listen to the story of Fading West, going on a journey to feel inspired. There are plenty of lines hinting that Jon was having writer's block (blood clot pen). It does mean the lyrics suffered some here but I don't think they suffered a ton. They achieved the california surf music. However, I do think they missed a huge part that I feel the fans were wanting. It's the sound that's on the ep. It's the one we were advertised and didn't receive on the album. I would loved if the album had the sound of Edge of the Earth (the song). But I really appreciate the risk cause it's a huge one. (stand out tracks: Love Alone Is Worth the Fight, BA55, Slipping Away).

5. Vice Verses - This was the best they have ever been as musicians (you could argue this for Oh Gravity too tho). But the amount of pushing their musical talent is very apparent on this album. The bass lines and drum rhythms are amazing. The only songs I'm kinda eh about are Rise Above It (still has great production and energy) and The Original (still has amazing bass and guitar parts). This album does have a weird issue with the lyrics either hitting really deep parts of your heart or being a very vague or simple line. The production is also the best imo and everything is layered super well. The only production that I disagree on is on Where I Belong (the digital claps for why and some parts sounding a little inconsistent with the rest of the album). But the choices in the sounds of the guitars and genre jumps and the grunge. Still lacking in some areas but still a solid record. (Holds my favorite Switchfoot song Thrive)

4. Oh! Gravity. - Oh yes, the golden era as I call it. I pin this album as the core Switchfoot sound. If you want to hear what Switchfoot sounds like, this album nails it. Guitars, fun, great lyrics, and musical variety. I don't have much words like I did for Chin. It's a pretty simple album to digest and it's the quickest made one (from what i'm aware of) and it shows but in the best way possible. It's also only made better by the podcast series they made. The only things that hold this album down a bit is American Dream and Burn Out Bright being repeat tracks of another (American Dream being the better one) and the double edged sword of it being simple when surrounded by high effort long works that are beyond exceptional.

3. The Beautiful Letdown - The Classic Foot album that defined their careers. It's not a joke tho that everything went up a whole level with this album. Something clicked in Jon's head that turned out some of his best lyrics and the song formats and sound just grew a ton. Jerome being an essential new member. And only one song that's a little meh (Redemption) and even the meh song is still catchy. Overexposure might be why it's not higher but I feel I have more reasons being that it does sound dated. Most of the time for better but a little for worse. I also feel that if Drew was a part of this album, it would be up a another level also. There's just a slight amount of incompleteness to this record. Not sure exactly but regardless the songwriting on this album is amazing and the questions and the way they are asked remain timeless.

2. Nothing is Sound - Grunge at its best here. I'm still not certain what Jon was going through here other than what the lyrics mention but whatever he was feeling hits hard. It resonates so much. To this day, these songs hold my throat. Not a bad song on here. It's a really good album that only gets beat by it's production value. Some songs could've been produced better (ironically Jon mentioned that recently too lol). Golden, The Setting Sun, and We Are Young Tonight are the forefront of those. And it's not like they are terribly produced but they are missing a little from what they could be. But literally it. Front to back, this record just rocks while wallowing in despair from the fallen world and the loneliness and helplessness it brings. It also represents a huge decision on what to do after a breakout record and is one of the best records after a band reached public success.

1. Hello Hurricane - The whole sound of this record is the most complete the band has ever sounded to me. The writing on this album is so great. Not one song is a waste and process this album went through is amazing. I get that they can't (prob shouldn't) do this process but damn was it worth it. This project sounds so complete and so organically made, even with two songs that I feel could have been switched out. (Always isn't my favorite but I may having it be a song for a past relationship. But it also does still have a lot of raw emotion in it that I appreciate and can get past my own perceptions. It's the lesser of the offense. Free is the other one only cause it kinda is booty in studio. It's live version makes ya wish it was that way on the record). But i adore these lyrics and I love the sounds they used without washing it up with production but still using production (Sing it Out) as a tool. It's so good and I love this album so much

quick review of interrobang is that it’s a very solid record and I love the sound of it so far. It doesn’t take my top record but it’s an insanely catchy album with a lot of listens in the future. I’d probably rank it as 2 or 3. Not sure if it’s above or below nothing is sound. but really give it a listen. It’s exactly what i’ve been wanting from the band for so long

[ribcagecarnival]

ADMIT ONE • VIOLET SKIES

I first heard Violet’s music while coping with heartbreak in January 2019. Her song “Cry For Me” is peak crying on the dance floor music, which is, frankly, the only genre that matters. A year later, she caught a set of mine at a house show, and we immediately linked up to write. Turns out we have great musical chemistry and we get along very well just as people, too. Her music often calls MUNA and Robyn to mind for me, but her love for folk titans like Joni Mitchell is also apparent. Check out this playlist of songs that move the wonderful Violet Skies (plus her reasons behind each selection). Her ticket to the Carnival is good for a lifetime.

A Case of You - Joni Mitchell The song I wished I’d written. The song I try to write. The lyrics, the melody - HOLY WTF. Unimaginable genius that she is, and the most simultaneously clear and vague expression of love’s totality. 14 year old me heard this through my Dad, who said Joni Mitchell was a true artist and made sure I listened to every single one of her albums. I will NEVER be over this song. Even the title is just insanely beautiful in its duality of meaning.

Zero to Hero - Hercules Hercules was my first true introduction as a child to gospel music (I grew up in Wales don’t judge me) and honestly the vocals on this film, insane. The runs, harmonies, energy - as a child it was nothing like I’d heard before and I learnt this song back to front and still to this day I think it’s insanely good songwriting, musicality is just *chef’s kiss* and the women on this song MAKE that entire film.

Can’t Help Loving That Man of Mine - Showboat Original Recording I sang this 3 times for my ‘show song’ portion of my singing grades. Everyone else usually chose something like Phantom of the Opera or something more classical, because it was a classical singing grade. So I’d sing like a few arias, something in German and then three years in a row I sang this because I thought it was (aged 12) the most wonderful song ever. Lyrically, it’s rather toxic for a 12 year old girl, honestly, but I was a hopeless romantic and having never kissed a boy at 12, the VIBES on this song were just so dramatic and I loved it. Also Showboat had me and my sister in tears the first time we watched it aged 6, I don’t think my Mam realised how traumatic it was when she put it on for us to watch.

Goodnight My Angel - Billy Joel Billy Joel, songcrafter extraordinaire, writes lullaby for his daughter, I die. I aspire to this level of craftsmanship and yes, this also makes me cry. Please go and listen to this song.

Make You Feel My Love - Adele’s version Bob Dylan wasn’t someone my parents played so I didn’t know he wrote this. Adele is just TONE and WARMTH and this song again, is so dramatic and over the top and also subtle in a way that moves my very being. I sung this so many times as a teenager and it began my love for Adele. Ballads never get old, the good ones age like fine wine (I don’t actually like wine but whatever) and they continue to be relevant and timeless in their message.

Samson - Regina Spektor Only recently did I realise that this song has affected my songwriting and is 100% behind my obsession with the chromatic 1-2-3-4 chord progression that is the PERFECT pre-chorus in my opinion. This song is just GENIUS. A song about a modern day relationship with Samson, iconic in its own way (Wonderbread!), paralleled with the original Biblical tale of Samson. Melody and lyric and piano come together in a way that really separates Regina from her peers and this song will live on for decades. The song is so specific, almost unrelatable-to in content, but it makes so much sense on an emotional level and that, that, is songwriting.

Kate Bush - Running Up That Hill She wrote it. She produced it. She’s a feminist searching for equality of experience. She’s exploring gender. She’s talking to God. She’s creating iconic sounds before her time. She is Kate Bush and I will not hear a word said against her. Big Boi does a whole interview on this song and he GETS IT. Go watch that because he explains it so well.

At Last - Etta James I sung this at every talent show I ever did and every shitty pub gig in my teens. This song! Her voice! Nobody sings like Etta. She is effortless. This song shaped my voice and I credit this song and Etta James with helping me learn runs, vocal control across my chest and head voice, and how to really sing something and mean it. When people talk about how music of black origin underpins all modern music, it’s songs like this and artists like Etta they are talking about. She is a foundation, a cornerstone in the development of the modern vocal.

Hide and Seek - Imogen Heap Imogen Heap is really tall in real life and even more wonderful. I heard this first through my sister who played it to me in the car and I lost my mind. THE VOCODER. The melody. I don’t ever know what she means really, completely, (like Bon Iver) but like, god i feel it. *That* moment in the song is so insane and I hear it all the time in my own music. Wild! It’s so wild how 30 seconds of a song can change the entire way you think about music and shape your own musicality.

I Love You More Than You’ll Ever Know - Donny Hathaway Amy Winehouse sings in Rehab “cos there’s nothing you can’t teach me…that I can’t learn, from Mr Hathaway”. She’s talking about Donny Hathaway and she’s right. Donny Hathaway’s voice is bottled soul, a depth of feeling most normal musicians will never in their lives. He ‘taught’ Amy and it shows. This song I covered and never released, but I also practiced production for the first time when I made it. The drama of this lyric too - admitting he isn’t perfect, knowing he doesn’t express his love properly but yet this song is the ultimate expression of love.

Wannabe - Spice Girls Changed my life. First album I ever got (from the tooth fairy). The Spice Girls were the soundtrack to my very early years and there are many videos of me doing dance routines to this song. If I wanted to be a pop star, this is where it started. Also don’t tell me that ZigAZigAHHH isn’t genius!?! This song is something a modern Kpop band would release. That iconic laugh at the start?! I went to their reunion tour with my sister, she was a few month’s pregnant and we both BAWLED because the nostalgia and full circle moment was just too much.

Love Is A Losing Game -  Amy Winehouse Lyrical perfection. Real songwriting. Conceptually perfect. Amy Winehouse changed my life because I saw a woman with a guitar on stage singing lyrics I understood, lyrics I thought were clever and funny and vocally she just outshone everyone around her. When Amy passed away I was at a friend’s garden party, my Mam rang me and I cried in the toilets and no one could understand why I was so sad, she’s the only famous person I’ve ever really cared about like that. I felt I knew her and I owed her so much. The world owed her more and I miss her. I love to imagine what she would be like in today’s music world and what she would be writing. But the two albums were enough to keep me listening for a lifetime. This song won an Ivor Novello award and I think it is real art.

Jealous - Labrinth I’m jealous I didn’t write this song. I think this song is on most people’s I WISH lists and does it even need explaining!?!

33”GOD” - Bon Iver What do the lyrics mean? How do you pronounce Bon Iver? What does the title mean? How do you even arrive at this song when you start writing?! The production is so game changing and the Bon Iver SOUND is so unique and has affected the entire music industry, seeping in to pop and mainstream. Even Taylor knows. But this song is the one I played on repeat. I still don’t know the lyrics but I know I feel like a firecracker underwater when I listen to it and that can’t be a bad thing.

Rude Boy - Rihanna This is one of the sexiest songs ever. It changed how I thought about women and what it means to be comfortable in yourself and your own sexuality. I’m just gonna leave it at that.

Retrograde - James Blake “SUDDENLY I’M HIT” and my entire brain blows off. I played this on repeat when I moved to London and when I finally met him a year or two later I said probably nothing of consequence and likely made an arse of myself but what I should of said was “retrograde changed my life”. It shaped how I think about production, made me think about synths and the interaction between organic and synthetic sounds and the use of a songwriter’s song in a non traditional setting. James sets the bar so high for all of us and we just jump around trying to come anywhere close.

[fmdjoosungarchive]

location: bc studio

date: mid-late sept mayhaps

word count: 1275

tldr; verification for @fmdminah’s timeless and lonely, partial production for each! sung goes to record the songs with minah, gets offered a role in her mv, then does what he can mixing-wise with the leftover time he has, tho i more allude to the latter part. one lil mention of yujin

paper crinkled in sung’s hand with every step. just the one, while his other hand curled around the strap of his bag, keeping it taut so it didn’t bounce up as high with the swishes of his legs.

he’d read the lyrics an hour ago, a few times over, but he needed the feeling to be fresh. piano and guitar swirled his eardrums through his earbuds as he read the lyrics, trying his best to imagine how they would flow into the melody he’d written. sung forgot how much he enjoyed timeless, as it came to be called. it wasn’t like what he usually wrote. in that way, it was unique, something just for minah and her career going forward.

honestly, sung didn’t think that he’d have made it onto minah’s album at all, let alone with two different songs. he couldn’t be sure how much influence minah had in her solo output. when it came to himself, he only really had the power of suggestion, but minah was so much more of a senior idol that it was possible she had more people willing to listen to her thoughts. maybe, she pushed for this to happen. or, it could have been gold star, wanting to push his good relations with lipstick members while also continuing to use his songwriting for marketing. he could never truly be sure.

sung wasn’t there for the initial demo recordings, so he was more or less coming in with a blank slate. at least, with timeless. with lonely, minah’s company had sent him the demo there, which ended up being what he’d listened to on repeat for the hour between when he first read timeless’s lyrics, to when he went back to the composition. he had thoughts.

those thoughts were why when he finally walked into the studio, folding over the lyric sheet to slip into his bag, sung suggested to minah and the other producer that they start with lonely first. that was, after greeting each of them and giving minah a hug --he had manners. and frankly, also missed minah. although, as she went into the recording booth, sung had to wonder whether he missed minah more, or her voice. something about it felt dripping in jewels. gentle jewels, like topaz or opal.

he led minah through a quick vocal warm up, something that might have seemed strange to the other producer considering he did it alongside her. sung didn’t mind seeming strange, though. it was part of his process, to be as fully connected with the artist as possible. to him, music was all about feeling and connection, which could only be achieved by seeing one’s self in another’s shoes.

minah had nice shoes.

sung told minah a little bit about his process writing the song, recalling how contradiction had been the main focus in the lyrics. “it’s in that space, right? between the beginning of a breakup and moving on. you know the best thing to do is find contentment in yourself, but this exhausting relationship is still something you almost want back. you’re not sure what to do with the loneliness. the exhaustion is where it comes from. it’s easier to fall back into old ways that hurt. i would say, bring that thought into your voice. let us feel the breathless exhaustion of being in between.”

strangely, what stuck by him most, even until the end of his mixing, was an um. minah had taken so well to the concept of the song, and yet that throwaway word was so pleasing to the ears, and a perfect encapsulation of what he’d meant to portray. he hoped, if minah performed this song anywhere, she’d continue that feeling there. if only there.

sadly, time constraints were a stressor added onto their time together. if they’d had all the time in the world, sung would have loved to go over every little detail of the songs, discuss them with minah, get her full opinions on how she’d come to view them in the time she had them. life wasn’t so kind, though, which meant the transition between recording for lonely and timeless needed to be somewhat swift.

sung had come up with a decent enough way to do that, by this point of having worked with enough idols to know how quick the process needed to be sometimes. they’d come back together in the same room to listen to timeless, this time the demo, through headphones, with their eyes closed. the point, was to eliminate more senses, to truly feel the song through their ears rather than be distracted by other sounds and sights. it wasn’t the best method, maybe some other producer did something better, but it worked well enough for their purposes, for sung’s. he spent the listen more intently on minah’s voice in the demo, to pick out what he might suggest otherwise for the final recording session.

bc having wanted, and having chosen this song for minah was out of his perceived notion. it ended up being the first thing he said when minah went back into the recording booth. “this song must be the most different one on the album, right?” a snicker fell from his lips, before he requested minah send him the album when it was finished so he could listen to it fully. he went on to explain more of his influences rather than the lyrics since... he didn’t write anything real. what he had written were more vague vocals that he could still hear on the demo version. sung mentioned with a fondness that he’d bugged yujin so often to record the song for him, and that, if minah could hear it, there were still bits of her in the background.

though, most of what he talked about were those influences. the song ended up being something sung would call a power ballad. there were rock influences, largely from the japanese power ballads he’d been listening to a lot at that time. there was his biggest note, to give her. sung wasn’t sure how familiar minah was with that style, when he’d come into the recording studio, but he believed in her ability to give him intensely powerful vocals to match with the feeling of the song. “time passes the same as the wind blows. this person was so, so meaningful to you, that now the worst of the feelings of losing them are gone, you’re left with the knowledge that what you had was special anyway. it’s powerful, i believe, to be secure in that knowledge. it reads like a letter to this person, doesn’t it? think of it that way, and pour out your emotions to them.”

that song took a little more finessing. minah’s voice was strong, powerful in a way many idol singers weren’t, but it required a few breaks for ‘mini games’ of a sort, like giving a good yell into the walls of the booth, to pull the complicated mess of feelings into the song in a way that sung thought worked well. it was there he relished more having a partner to work on the production with him, and to be working with a friend like minah, who might have understood his fumblings, when his words weren’t the best.

sung made sure to give a tight hug to minah, and let her know what a great job she’d done, when they’d wrapped up their recording session. he was blessed, to have the opportunity at all, but when minah mentioned her music video shoot, sung really had to wonder how it was he managed to find such amazing friends like minah.

[slouchyslouch]

My 2010s in Records.

10. My Bloody Valentine — mbv

Wrote about mbv on a separate piece.

9. Earl Sweatshirt — Some Rap Songs

Earl Sweatshirt’s Some Rap Songs is a record of mending and therapy. At the beginning of the decade, rap fans saw the 16 year old prodigy create the most technical and distinctive raps unheard of at that time. Yes, a lot of it was jarring and immature, but the potential was there. While debut mixtape EARL was a teaser and an introduction to his greatness, Doris was his reclamation to the rap game after a period of silence in Samoa. I Don’t Like Shit, I Don’t Go Outside in turn spoke for itself. Its morose disposition then made its way onto Some Rap Songs; not quite his masterpiece, but an accomplished period piece nonetheless. As one of the most highly acclaimed rappers in the world today, Earl spills his guts out on this diaristic tape about his relationship with his father and the emotional exhaustion coming from trying to amend it. On “Red Water,” he repeats the same 8 bars on loop as if caught in a recurring dream. “Papa called me chief / gotta keep it brief / locked and loaded I can see you lyin’ through your teeth” he raps in a fugue state, as if coming to the realization that his father was only there for those momentary times of convenience. It’s always difficult to write something that includes family and loved ones. There’s a sense of vulnerability you have to divulge in as well as a catharsis that fulfills one’s desire to let go of one’s agony. The beats on Some Rap Songs run on loose kaleidoscopic loops, production that Earl has mastered rapping over as his idiosyncrasies in his bars do best when complementing them. Thanks to the influence of his buddies Mike and Medhane, he’s learned to channel his eccentric flows onto those beats. “Riot” closes the record with the sentimental instrumental sampling jazz legend, and uncle, Hugh Masekela. It’s feels like a proper ending to Earl’s chronicle, but the events that have transpired will always be apart of his life. At the end of it all, Some Rap Songs will remain forever a tombstone of his anguish.

8. The Spirit of the Beehive — Hypnic Jerks

There’s no other dream pop record this decade that could top this almost-perfect album. The hushed vocalizations of Zach Schwartz and Rivka Ravede offer a quiet intimacy in the dreamscape that is Hypnic Jerks. The title in itself lends to the idea of being half asleep and half awake — to be in an altered state where the real and surreal are just two sides of the same coin. Tracks like “poly swim” and “it’s gonna find you” entrance you into that state of unconscious, while tracks like “can i receive the contact?” and “hypnic jerks” make an effort to wake you up from the sublime. Field recordings filter in and out between tracks, as if you were hallucinating the whole time. It’s when “nail i couldn’t bite” and “(without you) in my pocket” play out that you realize it doesn’t matter what state you lie in. Their lucid pop constructions reward repeated listens to the point of obsession in a somnambulant state. The record’s lack of acclaim only makes it feel like you’re in on a hidden secret. To this day, I am completely spellbound to its sorcery and have yet to unlock its mysteries.

7. Iceage — New Brigade

Back in elementary school, I listened to a lot of pop punk; the kind that was rapturously melodic yet cheesily done and overproduced (Think Blink 182 or All Time Low). Until I listened to New Brigade, I didn’t even realize what true punk music actually sounded like. Iceage was just fucking cool to me. Sure, they had the aesthetic, depicting bloody mosh pits and macabre rune art, but it was truly the music that broke into my spirit, shattering what I thought punk sounded like back in the day. I’d read pieces about their notorious live shows where they would play rapid 15-minute sets in the sunless recesses of Denmark, which only added to the band’s mystique. Upon listening to their debut, I felt musically fulfilled like never before. No more of the whiny, drawn out vocals from pop punk bands. Frontman Elias Bender Rønnenfelt had the kind of angsty drawl similar to Nick Cave’s when he played with The Birthday Party which offered a kind of obscene yet confident instability to his performance. Johan Surrballe Wieth and Jakob Tvilling Pless’s guitars have just the right amount of filth in them — an abrasive attack on your soul while Dan Kjær Nielsen’s drums are played propulsively in classic hardcore fashion — never meant decelerate. The record didn’t offer the tightest instrumental, but that was the point. Iceage have gone on to release tighter and more spectacular punk records consistently over the decade but their debut broke the ceiling of what to me punk could, and should, sound like. From the cathartic breakdown of “White Rune” to the triumphant “You’re Blessed,” New Brigade was the record that gave me that spark, the one that carried me to rotting heights.

6. Frank Ocean — Channel Orange

Channel Orange will always be a classic to my generation. From Grammy-nominated “Thinking’ Bout You” to the sweet and charming “Forrest Gump,” we surf through Frank’s psyche in smooth and effortless RnB. Frank Ocean’s vivid universe is one of vibrant summers and distant getaways. Its colourful motifs paint a pretty picture for us — pink skies, monks in moshpits, peaches and mangos, roofs of mansions, palm trees and pools, Majin Buu. Most people I know around my age know the lyrics to most of its tracks. They’re as infectious as any classic from the past decade. I still remember listening to “Sweet Life” by the beach with a friend before attending his concert on his first tour. Everything felt right in the world when he sang “so why see the world when you got the beach” as the waves crashed over the sand and the summer heat glistened over the ocean. During its release, he opened up to the world to reveal his love for another man in an affectionate Tumblr post. It gave us an appreciation into an artist’s vulnerable identity while breaking the door open for other artists to come out in their own way. Frank later released his masterpiece in Blonde/Endless and a plethora of brilliant singles from his radio show, but the stories and music from Channel Orange will remain forever timeless.

5. Solange — A Seat at the Table

“Fall in your ways / so you can crumble / fall in your ways / so you can wake up and rise” sings Solange, on the introduction to her restorative album A Seat at the Table. They’re words I try to tell myself in times of darkness. Solange just has that ability to let anybody express themselves through her music, to meditate on life’s injustices and pitfalls. It’s okay to be mad; it’s okay to rest and take care of yourself as much as you need to. We just have to rely on each other to get back into the fight. It feels like a lot of my favourite records from the past decade are imbued with themes of darkness and isolation. Fortunately, I still have Solange to let myself vent out those frustrations. Whether it’s the strings on the beginning of “Cranes in the Sky” that remind me to slow down or the horns projected behind Master P’s stoic orations that fuel my determination to keep afloat, A Seat at the Table plays like an instruction manual for self-care, black empowerment, and righteous activism. It’s consoling to know that I’m not alone in distracting myself from everything that’s wrong with the world today. 2016 was such an appropriate time for this record to be released. Solange gave us hope, grace, stoicism, and the ability to heal and recharge. A Seat at the Table may be a personal record to Solange, but as she sings on “F.U.B.U.,” this shit is for us.

4. Chance the Rapper — Acid Rap

It’s odd to say that my favourite rap record of the decade comes in the form of pop rap album Acid Rap. In making this list, I thought about the obvious greats in My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy or Good Kid, M.A.A.D. City. In the end, Chance’s second mixtape brought me more joy than any of those records did. It gave me the cringiest but most pleasurable musical moments with the homies singing along to tracks like “Cocoa Butter Kisses” and “Pusha Man.” Releasing it independently and as a free download, Chance’s spoken-word idiosyncrasies reveal themselves as classic pop rap gems by the end of the decade. Chance’s whole thing was just about pure positivity and having fun. The era of albums I could compare to it was during the release of Kanye’s College Dropout and Late Registration, a time when Kanye (sort of) envisioned the anti-stereotype in rappers, countering the machismo and toxic masculinity found in a lot of hip-hop now and back then (RIP old Kanye). Chance didn’t care about getting bitches or getting money. He just wanted to do drugs with his friends — to trip out on acid and go on a spiritual journey with all of us. Hidden beneath the positivity, Chance still creeps in a dash of realism and humanity on tracks like “Paranoia,” illustrating the life of gang-banging in his hometown of Chicago. It’s the earnestness in his raps that always pulls me back, the flourishes of piano when he raps “I lean back then spark my shit / I turn up I talk my shit / hope you love all my shit / I hope you love all my shit / IGH.” It turns out, as he declares on the outro, Everything’s Good.

3. Alex G — DSU

On DSU, time stops. The cult of Alex G is now cemented in indie rock lore at the end of the decade with eight albums full of hooks, dreams, and shattered spirits. DSU was the first record I listened to by Alex G, and remains my favourite by his despite him going on to release better conceptual records in Rocket and House of Sugar. No track can be skipped or listened to passively. With most of them springing under the 2–3 minute mark, ideas flow in and out without direction but coalesce into an impressionistic and breathtaking work of art. Hints of Elliott Smith and Isaac Brock echo in the duality of harsh guitar distortion and melodious pop hooks. Guitar feedback never felt so comforting as it colours the magnificence of Alex G’s composition. There’s a kind of deep melancholy in each track despite the ambiguous surrealism lyrics, a perfect winter record to listen to alone in your room or walk through the piles of snow in the night. Its murky yet lush production somehow reaches out to you, helps you drown in its depths and remain there for its 37 minutes. Whether it’s “Skipper” fully attuning you to its hushed presence, or the entrancing opener of “After Ur Gone,” I just feel like I want to close my eyes and immerse myself in there for as long as it allows me to.

2. Frank Ocean — Blonde

Frank Ocean’s Blonde arrived as a gift from the heavens. For five years, my friends and I have joked and memed about when the new Frank was coming out — whether it was even ever going to come out. Years after its release, it has evolved into the masterpiece that I’ve always wanted him to create. When Endless came out, I felt somewhat disappointed at the material — although later served as the perfect complement to Blonde — because of its lack of sensual pieces similar to those on Channel Orange’s effortless RnB and the latter record’s penchant for easy sing-alongs. Blonde in turn revealed a similar mood: the spacious vapour that fogged up behind Ocean’s intimate croon, the volatility in his voice that permeated your soul — it felt like an emotional load that was difficult to bare, yet something necessary that had to be experienced. I was just getting into my first intimate relationship when Blonde came out, and it’s made me realize how much I wanted to make that person happy, and that I couldn’t take any relationship I had for granted. I felt heavy after listening to this record. The sadboi hours memes ring true to its emotional weight. I would flutter to the arpeggios of “Ivy” as Frank sings “I thought that I was dreamin’ when you said you love me,” bop to the duality of “Nights,” and shed a tear to the wistfulness of “Godspeed.” I wonder how much shit Frank had to go through to even get any of these songs on tape. It’s okay. I like to think think that by the end of it all, Blonde was the catharsis he needed to spill his heart out.

1. Tame Impala — Lonerism

At the end of the decade, seeing Kevin Parker as one of the most highly-touted producers and songwriters in pop music would be an observation if you had asked me a decade ago, when Tame Impala’s first record Innerspeaker — an expansive work of art that recalled 60’s guitar psychedelia — first came out. On Lonerism, Parker’s music evolved into something even more seismic and innovative in scope. As the name suggests, Lonerism is a product of disaffection, self-defeat, and isolation. I’d imagine it was as fulfilling to other music fans of a type to detach from the world and just get lost in another’s. There’s a part on “Keep on Lying” where an endless guitar solo is played in the midst of a dinner party being played out; that feeling of getting dragged to a party when you were just a kid but just wanted to pop your headphones on and refuse to interact with anybody. According to Parker, he put in the sample to make the listener feel even more alienated. It’s a powerful feeling that lets anyone listening to the record in on that vulnerable sensation. In spite of that, tracks like “Apocalypse Dreams” and “Elephant” still give us astonishing psych rock bangers while pop gems “Music to Walk Home By” and “Feels like We Only Go Backwards” demonstrate Parker’s guitar pedal gymnastics over vibrant hooks. Although Currents has skyrocketed him into the fame and acclaim that he undoubtedly deserves, this record will always be his opus in my heart. I’ve daydreamed enough times to the music where its world has settled into my subconscious. It’s a world that comes from genius, but it’s also a world that invites you in to escape from the idea of Lonerism itself, to have something shared with you in solitude.

[tunemyart]

Once I started writing a thing I never bothered to finish. Like many folks at the time it seems, I wish there had been more processing between X/G about the very traumatic stuff that happened to them at the end of S4, especially since so much about S5 didn’t allow it. Especially since by my reckoning, so much of that trauma had an incalculable effect on way Gabrielle latched with a completely new determination and desperation onto the idea of walking Xena’s path. 

Ultimately I didn’t finish it because I thought it flirted a little too much with being out of character for Gabrielle, and also because my usual MO is pretty much an unapologetic “look at how much Xena and Gabs love each other!!!” and tbh that’s what I’m most comfortable with. But today I was thinking about it again, and how much I would have appreciated a conversation somewhere along these lines happening somewhere before the end, and felt compelled to throw it out there. I wrote this with the vague idea of it happening after S6′s “The Abyss.” 

Unfinished, so if you click beneath the cut you start right in it. 

…

“I don’t want you to die before me!” she shouted, and Xena took a step back, not sure what to say when there was no way she could promise that she wouldn’t. “Xena, I - “

Gabrielle’s face collapsed into grief, rubbing her arms as if to ward off a cold that only she could feel. Xena sensed that she didn’t want to be touched, and so draped a blanket over her as a compromise to her need to bleed the pain away from her through her own hands, watching helplessly until Gabrielle found the way to say what it was she needed to say. 

When she did, she laughed bitterly, a wet, tortured sound from the back of her throat. “You died first on that cross, you know.”

It wasn’t at all what Xena was expecting, and it took her a minute to get over the surprise of it. They didn’t tend to talk even between themselves about their crucifixions and what had immediately followed. At the time it had been too much, and then Xena had been pregnant, and then there had been Eve, and then they were fending off the gods at every turn. Xena had felt the wedge between them and how it had widened over the course of the ensuing months, but had assumed it was due to all the rapidfire changes in their lives. In her darkest moments, when Gabrielle slept an intractable distance across the fire from her and Eve, she’d thought that this was it - that Gabrielle had finally had enough.  

But this spoke to something Xena had been too distracted to notice. She wished she could reach back in time and shake herself, go and mold herself around Gabrielle’s body and ask if she was alright. 

“I know,” Xena said eventually. Her back had been broken. She’d suffocated within minutes, her last agonized thoughts of Gabrielle. 

“It took me… gods, it felt like an eternity. I think the cold got me first. Maybe that was a gift from whoever was watching. I remember trying so hard to hold myself up, trying so hard to stay conscious, and the whole time I was wondering - what was the point? Why was my body still fighting, when all I could think about was that you were dead next to me, and how alone I was. How your body was - “ but here, Gabrielle choked and fell silent, retreating again to some private place where Xena couldn’t reach her. 

It was several long moments before she recovered. “We’ve been to hell, but that - that eternity? I won’t do it again. I won’t.”

Xena was silent. Gabrielle refused to look at her, but whether it was from the emotion behind her outburst or her own understanding that Xena couldn’t make any promises, Xena didn’t know. 

“Gabrielle, what are you saying?” she finally asked quietly. 

Gabrielle made a frustrated noise and shook her head, letting it fall into the cradle of her hands. “I don’t know,” she said. “All I know is I can’t go back to that place.”

Xena would have done anything to be able to promise that she wouldn’t have to - or better yet, reverse the flow of time until all the marks of trauma that had worn their way into Gabrielle’s soul because of Xena disappeared.

“Gabrielle,” she said as gently as possible. 

“I know, alright,” Gabrielle snapped, and moved away before Xena’s traitorous hand could finally make contact with her arm. Her arms crossed over in front of her abdomen in some facsimile of a hug she wouldn’t accept, the blanket hanging precariously off her shoulders. “I know,” she repeated, more subdued. 

“I can’t make those promises,” Xena said anyway, watching Gabrielle’s eyes shutter at the words. “For that matter, neither can you. And if you honestly believe I’d be any better off if you died before me, then you haven’t been paying attention.”

“I guess that settles it,” Gabrielle said on a wild laugh that didn’t mask the wetness in her voice. “We’ll just have to die together.”

“Gabrielle,” Xena said again, heart breaking. Finally, Gabrielle permitted her to grasp her shoulders, and then cup the back of her head, and then be enfolded bodily into Xena’s, exhaling something that might have been either relief or a sob or both. “Listen to me. I know what it is to not want to live. You know this. But I also know that a reason to keep living can come for you any minute, from around any corner, if you only accept it. Life is so precious, and can be so beautiful, and I thank the gods that I kept living long enough to learn that from you. Even the thought of you - the idea that you would be willing to lose such a precious thing, because of what you gave to me - Gabrielle, I could never forgive myself. Not for all of eternity. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Gabrielle was crying now, face pressed against Xena’s chest, and tenderly, Xena drew back and cupped her face, catching tears with her thumbs. 

“I understand,” she choked out. 

“You made me make you a promise once, a long time ago,” Xena said. “Do you remember?” 

Gabrielle had been so, so young, and gods, Xena had been too. Promise me, she’d said, fresh-faced and serious and not a day over nineteen. Promise me that if something happens to me, you won’t become a monster. 

Xena had thought about that promise every day for a long time. More than once, it had been the only thing that tethered her - to herself, to life itself. She’d felt the pull of it at her soul until she’d felt she’d be torn in two, until there was nothing to do but scream at the pain of it; but never once had she been able to resent it. How could she have, when at the other end of it lay Gabrielle? She’d known what she was doing, in all her youth and naivety and simple love for Xena. Maybe not wholly, and maybe she’d hoped for rather than understood her own power; but she’d known, and Xena had blessed her for it more times than she could count. 

“I remember,” Gabrielle murmured now, youth matured, naivety fled, love for Xena more layered and.expansive than time itself.

“Can you promise me now?” Xena asked softly. “Live, Gabrielle. In all the ways you can, live.”

Gabrielle drew a deep breath and exhaled, and when her eyes opened, they were clear. Promise me, she’d commanded Xena so long ago, and her eyes had been exactly the same. Xena felt them caught up in some timeless mystery, suspended within some rite with more power than any other vow they could have made each other. Promise me. 

I promise, had said Xena.

And calm and solemn as a prayer, Gabrielle said, “I promise.”

[oh-its-souichi]

Necklace

Yo!

Shigaraki X Reader

So.. 

Hi..

No one asked me to write this much angst about a damn necklace but... 

I’m in a bad mood 

So please 

Forgive me 

Who else liked the necklace commercial I added.. quality content right there

Warning- a--n--g--s--t, Shig is a bit ooc, fluff 

You were talking to Kurogiri a wild smile spread across your face. 

It was beautiful almost luminescent. 

Your left hand toyed carelessly with the silver heart-shaped jewelry around your neck. 

He felt the pain bear down on him and he looked away. 

That damn necklace. 

You wore it all the time like it was your life line. When you were fighting heroes it was with you. Showering? It was there. Sometimes he felt a little jealous of it. He wished he could be that close to you all the time.

Well he DID anyway. 

For the longest time he didn’t know why you wore it. He, more then anyone else, would understand why you would wear something everyday, be it for comfort or sentimental value, he understood. 

So why didn’t you tell him before weaving your way into his head. 

He never personally asked you why you wore it but you always told him everything, even if he didn’t want you to. 

‘T my stomach hurts’ 

“T I saw a rabbit in a pet store window’

‘T Do you want to hear my master plan to take down the final boss?’ 

You were incessant and annoying and you drove him completely insane. 

Yet he was completely enamored with you. 

You’re stunning E/C eyes, luscious h/c hair, sticky sweet voice, soft skin and brilliant mind. All of your qualities, everything about you he loved. 

These same qualities also made him sick. 

Every time you spoke his name or held him close his chest went on lock down and his stomach swirled in his body. His mouth and throat would sting like he was about to throw up, it was quite painful. 

He never pushed you away though. 

Even after the first time you hugged him he didn’t pull away. He yelled, called you names and threatened your life but not once did his arm muscles contract to move you away from him. Instead he gave in and fell victim to your grasp, letting all the insecurities and negative emotions he felt be swept away with the blowing wind outside. You had him from the moment he saw you. 

Knowing what he knew now maybe he should have shoved you away. 

He had been on his computer earlier in the day attempting to read a news report when an ad popped up on the screen. He tried to click out of it but in order to watch then news video, he had to watch the ad. With a sigh he complied scratching his neck irritably. The minute clip started with a happy looking couple holding hands and grinning stupidly at each other. It made him feel weird and he couldn’t help but hope that after he killed All Might as well as everyone else that pissed him off the two of you could be that happy. 

The boy in the ad reached thoughtfully into his pocket, his gaze never leaving the girl’s face, and pulled out a little black box. The girl seeming to know what was inside widened her smile, her face lite up. She took the box and opened it revealing a silver heart necklace. Words ran across the screen while the girl jumped on the guy hugging him tightly. The words read 

Nothing says forever like flawlessly cut metal

           Show her you care with our timeless sterling silver hearts 

                      Only at Ryuzaki’s, (shameless Deathnote reference ;)

                               Your favorite jewelry store.  

Once the ad ended he thought maybe he would get you something like that. He did care about you and it would make him kinda happy to see you smile as wide as the girl in the commercial did. How he would obtain it he didn’t know. It’s not like he could just walk into a jewelry store and not be recognized. Maybe he could have Toga use her quirk and do it.  His thoughts were interrupted when the ad disappeared from the screen revealing the news article. He began to skim through it absorbing what reporters were saying about the slight rise in crime and the panic ensuing among citizens. 

A smile crept onto his face. It was finally happening. 

His dreams were coming true. 

Continuing to read he paused half way through the article when his eyes caught sight of another picture ad for the same necklace. Disinterested he looked at it feeling his heart drop. 

How did he not notice it before? 

His eyes lapped over their design over and over again. 

A silver heart necklace. 

Is that where your necklace was from? Did you get it from some other guy while you toyed with him on the side? Acid rose up into his throat and he gripped onto the arms of his office chair. disintegrating them as soon as all five of his fingers made contact with the plastic. ‘That bitch’ he thought not wanting it to be true, needing it not to be true. The two of you never solidified what you relationship was but you hugged him and kissed him and hung around him making him feel... not as bad as usual but you should have known you were his. Not anyone else’s. His. 

Now here he was staring at you from across the bar, heart in shambles, and you were acting completely normal.

 It pissed him off.

Bitterly he threw back the rest of the whiskey in his glass before setting it back down onto the counter top. “Another” he demanded glaring at Kurogiri who nodded and poured more into his glass. Shigaraki kept his eyes forward not daring to acknowledge the curious/ concerned look you sent his way. “Shigaraki?” you said casting an uneasy glance at Kurogiri who only looked down at the dark colored bar top scrubbing it with a white dishtowel. 

Shigaraki threw back the newly refiled drink, some of the liquid dribbling down his chin. With drunks legs he stood shakily up and grabbed onto your arm. He drug you towards the door and yanked it open dragging you with him out into the cool evening air. 

Even though you were completely confused and utterly terrified you couldn’t help but notice the sky turning pink with only hints of blue left. You looked in between the grey buildings admiring the contrast. Usually you didn’t take the time to do these things. Call it a nervous tick.

 Shigaraki reached out and grabbed your face harshly bringing your body forcefully closer to his. “What’s wrong T?” you struggled to say hoping your calm words would soothe him. As you looked at him you saw his chest heaving violently, his eyes wide and manic. He also looked hurt, almost heartbroken which only deepend your confusion. It was pretty normal for him to be angry but to look so vulnerable? “T” you said again but instead of a reply you felt yourself be shoved back, your back colliding with the metal railing behind you. 

“You didn’t think I’d find out!?!” he yelled scratching furiously at his neck. Shocked at the radiating pain in your back as well as the brutality of his words and harshness of his actions you sat on the cold metal gawking ignorantly at him. “Find out what?” you said quietly scanning your brain for any major mistakes you had made within the last few weeks. Toga and yourself and snuck into Shigaraki’s room to listen to a song the two of you both liked but that was about it. 

His fists clenched at the innocent look you were giving him. How could you act so clueless? He wasn’t going to let you trick him. Not again. “This” he hissed dangling your necklace in his fingers. “My necklace!” you exclaimed feeling the empty spot on your collarbone. ‘he must have pulled it off when he pushed me’ you thought beginning to feel uncomfortable. You felt so exposed without which seems silly but the nakedness gnawed at you until the calm exterior you had deteriorated. “Give it back!” you screamed bolting to your feel your eyes boring into his. 

He had never seen you so angry before. A laugh left his mouth. “Now why would I do that?” he taunted. 

Fierce anger boiled up into your throat and you found yourself swiping at his hand only come back empty handed. Suddenly you felt dust being thrown in your face. “Your little game isn’t so fun now is it!” he laughed practically yelling his acidic words in your ear. The tiny particles getting caught in your eyes and nose making you choke. As quickly as it came the rage you felt subsided. “Mom” you gasped dropping to your knees and attempting to collect what little remained of the necklace off of the metal stairs. 

At your words the smile Shigaraki had on his face went away. “Mom?” he repeated loosing the viciousness he had before. ‘Was I wrong?’ he thought. You certainly wouldn’t be calling out “mom” if the necklace was from a boyfriend. 

Now that he thought about it there was something significant that happened with your mother as well as your father. You had told him a few months ago but he couldn’t remember. “Mom?” he said again reaching into the pocket of his sweater and took out father, placing it gingerly onto his face. 

His heart was racing. What should he do? 

“Yes mom” you sighed stopping your futile effort and leaning back into the railing he had pushed you into. Sadly you released the little bit of decay you were able to gather into the evening air, watching the small particles dance away. “My dad gave that to my mom before I was born. It was the last thing I had left of her, well, both of them I guess.” You looked out into the alleyway tears beginning to fall quietly from your eyes. 

Seeing you cry made his mouth dry, his throat feeling like he had just swallowed pounds of cotton. 

He felt so dumb.

 Deep down he knew that he should have just asked you why you wore it instead of just assuming but something held him back. He wanted to get impossibly close to you but he just couldn’t. It hurt far to much. Grunting he tried to form words in his mouth but only grew more frustrated with his failing efforts. Finally he growled giving into his anger once again. “It’s your fault!” he yelled at you. “You should have told me what that damn thing was!” 

Ignoring him you stood up and walked down the stairs. He attempted to grab your wrist and stop you from walking away but he missed. His fingers lay dead in the air as you arm moved out of his reach. “Don’t walk away from me!” he yelled at you panicking internally, he wanted to stop you so bad but didn’t know the right words to say. “Don’t fucking go!” 

You walked further and further down the alleyway numb to his words and harsh screams. Who cared what he had to say. 

As your small frame disappeared out of sight he stopped yelling and dropped his arms in defeat. What if you didn’t come back? 

With a growl he burst back into the hideout and stormed into his room without a word. Kurogiri sighed and took a quick look at Shigaraki’s door mentally preparing for the week ahead, it was going to be a hella long one. 

...

[dyketectivecomics]

Guess who has two thumbs and cant wait to finish things before publishing them!!!!!!!!

(just a preview for the Night Force fic that I keep talking about and never actually get around to finishing apparently)

...

While Zachary held nothing but love and respect for his cousin in his heart, he was starting to become every bit annoyed with her as she lingered in Shadowcrest’s foyer. As she pulled sticky notes from her hat, he did his best to indulge her, taking them each carefully from her, only half-listening as she gave him reminders to go along with each note.

“-and Mikey’s helped me make arrangements for Sasha, but the rabbits in the West Wing will be your responsibility, Zach,” she repeated as she handed the last sticky note and adjusted her bowtie immediately after. “As will the rest of Shadowcrest. This space mission shouldn’t last longer than the weekend, but please remember to-”

“Relax, Zee. I’m the pinnacle of responsibility.“

“That is what has me worried,” she grumbled, fixing her top hat so it rested perfectly atop her head. “OT EHT REWOTHCTAW.” A portal opened in swirling shades of blue and violet, and just before the magician stepped through, she turned one last time to her cousin, her voice having just a hint of a threat of violence. “And no parties.”

And with that final word, the magician disappeared.

With a flourish, Zach tucked all of the notes up one sleeve and pulled out carefully signed envelopes out of the other, double checking the names on each as he flipped through them. When satisfied, he held them aloft, cleared his throat, and chanted a simple spell to send them on their way.

“REVILED SETIVNI OT YM STSEUG.”

And just as soon as they disappeared in a flash of light, he pulled up the sticky notes once more and turned from the foyer to make preparations. He made sure to properly dispose of the notes in a bin around the corner.

…

More than anything, she wanted one dinner, one last semblance of the order she had from before. Just one ritual untouched by the magic and mysticism and mortal peril she faced when outside of the Williams’ home. Idle chit-chat and polite interruptions over mundane things were a welcome pace.

Normalcy. Something so sweet and now so sacred. Something she had been so severely lacking with the latest fantastical adventure that Baron Winters had dragged her unwillingly into.

And for just a few minutes, it seemed as if she may just have it.

But all too soon, Raven found herself sighing in annoyance when she recognized the ostentatious calligraphy that adorned the envelope as it popped into existence and fell right onto her dinner.

Of course Zatara would find a way to contact her at such an inopportune time.

She’d just revealed her biggest secret to her family days ago, by sharing her secret identity and almost all that it entailed after that disastrous first mission with Winters’ so-called new Night Force. She’d only just regained her teachers’ trust, after her aunt and uncle had stepped in to cover for the unfortunate mess she’d caused. She’d just been settling into that old routine that had seemed another lifetime ago.

And now Zatara was about to compromise all of that again for…

She wrinkled her nose, vexed as she read further through the card.

He was inviting her to some, so-called, exclusive house party?

She scoffed at the thought, folding the invite over and setting it aside. She only got a few more bites of green beans in, before she could sense everyone’s eyes on her. A gentle thrum of curiosity, with opposing hints of excitement and nervousness.

“Is that from one of your, um, Titan friends, honey?” Alice asked delicately, breaking the tension that had formed around the table. Always leave it to Aunt Alice, to cut right to talking about elephants in rooms.

“It is only Zatara, being a nuisance,” Raven explained, waving a dismissive hand as she picked at her food with her fork. She started to wonder where her appetite went as she felt another thrum of excitement around the table then.

“Wait, like, Zatanna Zatara?” Mary-Beth asked with a gleam in her eyes, “So her magic is all real, like yours?”

“Not quite like mine,” Raven found herself correcting, and winced a bit as she realized she failed to keep the venom out of her voice. “And also not from her. She has a cousin. Zachary. Much less talented, and much more annoying.” She paused a moment, sensing the growing curiosity that hung in the air, answering the unasked question.

“He has invited me and our… mutual acquaintances to a party this weekend. But I do not think-”

“You should go,” Jack said between bites, carefully swallowing before continuing. “It’s good for a growing teen, to be around other people that share your interests, even when you don’t always get along with them.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Uncle Jack, but I already have friends-”

“But not friends that are… magic,” he pointed again with his fork, a sly smile forming on his face, “Besides, I don’t remember you telling us you had any other plans this weekend.”

“It is clear across the country-”

“Rach- Raven,” Alice said, catching herself, “If you keep finding excuses for why you couldn’t, you’ll never see the reason why you should.”

“That’s deep, Mom, where’d ya get that from?” Mary-Beth laughed, and soon the discussion derailed back into mundanity.

And as the conversation drifted, Raven wondered if spending the weekend just outside of Gotham with her fellow Night Force members would be such a bad thing after all. She certainly didn’t know them well enough to develop any strong feelings, positive or negative, towards them.

And Uncle Jack had made a good point, about her not having plans in the first place…

…

Shadowcrest was exactly how she had imagined it. Victorian gothic architecture that matched every other estate in the countryside. If pushing just past Gotham City’s limits could be considered countryside, that is.

Unlike many of those estates, which had fallen into vacancy and disrepair over the years, Shadowcrest stood tall and proud. The roofline looked as if it had just been patched in, the paint as vibrant as the day it first touched the paneling, and the whole building absolutely hummed with energy. A magical building, indeed, and one that had Raven pausing at it’s doorbell as she lifted her hand to buzz herself in.

She cursed her momentary hesitancy under breath before pressing the bell with a tad more force than necessary, rolling her eyes as “Abracadabra” could be heard playing throughout the manor.

‘Leave it to the stage magicians to have a sense of humor,’ she thought idly.

When Zach opened the door, he looked as if he were trying to keep the surprise off his face. Certainly, it wasn’t often that a Teen Titan darkened his doorstep, in civilian clothing no less! But he couldn’t seem to help himself as his eyes traveled over her body to take in her outfit.

The yellow sundress was a shock, but not at all unflattering on the teen empath, sported with tan flats and a jean jacket that was her only protection against the first chilling winds of autumn. An outfit much more telling of her point of departure, from sunny San Francisco, than her current destination, in the dreary American Northeast.

“So, she doesn’t dress like she’s ready to attend a mid-2000s Fallout Boy concert, like the rest of us,” he noted, a smirk beginning to grow on his face. Raven made her own mental note of his comment as she took in Zach’s own outfit for the evening. He had evidently ditched the tophat and tails for more comfortable jeans with strategically placed holes, and a shirt sporting a band’s logo that she couldn’t immediately place.

“I am only here because I am curious about your library, Zatara,” she said carefully as she pushed past the boy, “Let’s not make this any more difficult that it needs to be.”

“Only you would see an invite to an exclusive party, and have eyes solely for the library,” a voice called lazily from the next room over, making Raven pause as she changed her direction towards it.

To the left of that oh-so-grand foyer that hinted around a more timeless design, was a classically victorian-style tea room, where the rest of their teammates had evidently made themselves at home, much to Zach’s very tangible frustration.

Raven could practically taste the mingling emotions in the air, wafts of annoyance and hints of glee. And once again, that common, nearly electric undercurrent of excitement and anticipation. The room was like a powder keg with so many players ready to go. She wondered idly how the others must have felt, with so much energy once again in the air.

Klarion was placed the furthest away, draped lazily along an armchair with his legs hanging off the side. He gave the empath a quick nod before turning back to the tablet in his lap, hands glowing in time as he appeared to be mixing and experimenting with how the tech was adapting to his magic.

On the loveseat, Traci was engrossed in her own conversation with Kid Devil, who Raven recognized only from brief encounters before this whole mess with Winters had begun. Eddie Bloomberg had only just run into these powers of his not too long ago, after all. The pair briefly acknowledged the empath before returning to their conversation, Eddie’s hands becoming more animated as Traci laughed along with his antics.

Which only left the final two players in the room, Skye Harper, who was making herself comfortably at home lounging on a summoned bean bag chair that clashed horribly with the rest of the decor, and Black Alice, sitting in the only other armchair in the room. And apparently making backhanded comments, as always.

“Guys, the coasters. Please,” Zach groaned as he snapped his fingers to hide his mumbling as he summoned more. Klarion’s feisty feline had taken most of the mats, playing or otherwise tearing them apart, as pets are wont to do.

He grabbed Teekl by the cat’s scruffy neck to berate it. “No more chewing on these ones, got it?” The cat only gave him a hiss, swatting and missing as the magician dropped it. It bounced happily into Klarion’s arms as the pair gave the magician a glare.

“At least now the party can really start,” Alice continued, stretching her arms over her head in boredom. “Demons make everything much more interesting-”

“Half-demon,” the empath found herself snapping. It couldn’t be helped, however, with how the room had shifted. That peculiar lilt the power-snatcher used just then, made her skin crawl. She couldn’t stand to let that feeling. “And how do you know that I am here to start the party? Maybe I will end it before it even begins.”

“Told you she’d be a narc,” Eddie laughed. “Everyone knows she and Za-”

With a piercing ring, Zachary’s phone chimed off, alarm magically charmed to stop all thought except what the reminder was set to. A spell that was little overdone, as Raven could feel a mild headache making it’s home right between her eyes. She didn’t need to guess, much less imagine, what everyone else must have been feeling.

“Ugh, the popcorn!” Zach groaned, “Okay, everyone stay right here, I’ll be back with the flicks and everything and then we can get this started! OT EHT NEHCTIK.”

Immediately after the magician had completely disappeared, Klarion was on his feet, heading out of the very same doorway Raven had entered from.

“You guys can stay if you want, Teekl and I are going to explore,” he declared lazily over his shoulder, heading right for the stairs.

“I don’t think Zach would appreciate that,” Skye started hesitantly, but before she could protest any further, the other teen mystics were out of their seats and similarly following suit.

“I’m going to search for blackmail material,” Alice laughed. Traci shrugged her shoulders, following close behind with a rebuttal of, “I don’t completely condone it, but I’m in.”

Eddie declared himself Klarion’s unofficial shadow and the two were off in the blink of an eye, disappearing around a corner before anyone could ask what destination they had in mind.

This left Raven to sigh wearily, recognizing Skye’s growing anxiety and knowing she would be helpless to stop the others. She was damned regardless, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her from fulfilling her promise to find Shadowcrest’s library and discover its secrets for herself.

“I could use the company-” Before she even finished the thought, the Wind Elemental was at her side, her face was split into a wide grin as she grabbed the empath’s hand, leading her down the East corridor.

“I’m pretty sure Zach said the library would be this way!” she said.

A minute later, in the now empty tea room, the magician reappeared with popcorn and movies in hand.

He let out a low curse as he realized the mistake that had been made, all too late to avoid its consequences.

[stateofgrace-acoustic]

lover - first song ranking & thoughts

first of all i just need to say i legitimately don’t feel ‘meh’ about a single song on this album. on any other album. i always had one or two songs i was just kind of ‘take it or leave it’ about. but Lover really did that - they’re all amazing and wonderful. but here’s an attempt at an order of how much i love them!

18. it’s nice to have a friend

this really reminds me of you are in love in the way it recounts all the small gestures and steps involved in becoming close to somebody. it’s really cute and at the perfect space on the album, leading to daylight. not a mindblowing song or anything, but the vibe fits onto lover really well. i’m glad that it’s here 

17. you need to calm down

yeah, i cooled down on this one a little bit. it’s fun and the message is important, but me! is the better single tbh. still though, the feeling of empowerment this gives me over my nonexistent online haters is wonderful. and i love the attitude of the song of just looking at the assholes who live their entire lives putting energy into hating people and just being like....why are you like this. it’s pathetic. calm the hell down. so needed in our current debate culture

16. me!

a real grower! taylor and brendon urie have such good chemistry, tbh that’s really the backbone of the song. it’s just a really nice carefree spring/summertime self love song, a perfect soundtrack for when you feel happy and content with yourself. 

15. the man

just dropping the complete truth on us with this one. i’ve wanted taylor to make this song for years (and i know she said she’s been wanting to but just never found the right words!) the bridge really elevates this too. and it’s sad how relatable the entire song is in literally every aspect of professional (and personal) life for women. i don’t think it’s quite as strong as it could have been, but still really solid

14. i think he knows

this is like the fun version of dress. that’s all i got to say. just as explicit, but this time around it’s super cheeky and i love it. also goals of self confidence if i’ve ever seen them

13. paper rings

the joyful energy this has!! just makes you smile and want to dance immediately, a wonderful wholesome happy bop

12. false god

listen.....this is special. i absolutely think this is the most experimental song on the album, both in terms of the music (is that a saxophone in the bg?? it’s almost got a jazzy vibe? completely uncomparable to anything she’s ever done and still so distinctly Taylor), but also with the lyrics, where she goes into the love = religion theme which honestly....as a Florence + the Machine and Hozier fan, i don’t even need to go into how much of a vibe that is. I couldn’t have imagined it working so well for Taylor though, but honestly, this song feels perfectly brooding, summertimey, melancholy, - it’s almost like taking the darker underside of Cruel Summer and exploring it in depth! this is very much a song i need to be in a Specific Mood to really appreciate, but it’s damn well made

11. afterglow

i love the maturity of this. not just the apologizing for picking a fight, but explaining how it came to be - at the end, from a place deep seated anxiety. ‘it’s all me, in my head’ (those high notes are beautiful) you can really feel how sorry she is. at the same time, the song sounds like something bigger, like an anthem - almost like that place high above that she’s trying to elevate them to.

10. i forgot that you existed

SO MUCH FUN i keep repeating that but that’s just the mood of this album tbh, playful and mature at the same time. this song is just like, when you’re over someone but you just can’t help yourself and have to throw shade one last time before moving on. i love the bouncy beat!!

9. lover

this song is literally the feeling of ‘home’ in music. so cozy, comfortable, blissful. dreamy. perfect title track. also completely timeless - i think this is one of those songs that we will look back on in years as a classic in her catalogue, a song you will always want to play again

8. the archer

this was my definite favorite of the pre released songs. anxiety, doubts, the way they all just keep coming back and eating at you, it’s described so perfectly and painfully. and the production really makes it sound like you’re in a separate space from reality, just stuck in your head trying to find a way forward, to soothe yourself. the ‘they see right through me / i see right through me’ transition in the bridge is fantastic and keeps giving me chills. so much personal connection to this one

7. soon you’ll get better

feels weird to even rank this but......just wow. the harmonies with the dixie chicks are so beautiful, and the way the lyrics talk about the feeling between denial and desperate hope, the transition from “because you have to” to “because I have to” - I have to cling to this hope, or i won’t make i - it completely broke my heart. and the fact that Taylor can conjure all these complex emotions with just a guitar and a few words is incredible. i’m so so sorry for them and i wish all the best for Andrea with my entire heart. 

6. london boy

i already see people underappreciating this, what is going on??? there are multiple cute bouncy joyful songs on this album but this is my favorite because it’s just got a fantastic flow and melody, and i love all of the references to places and dialect specific words and it’s just so wholesome?? but what really makes this is (once again) the bridge. stick with ME im your QUEEN like a tennessEE stella mccartNEY, just the energy!! the fun!! excuse me while i listen to this every day for the rest of my life

5. miss americana & the heartbreak prince

okay, taylor’s brain in this one. i made a post talking about how this song has three layers - at first there’s the high school setting, then it references the ‘cancelling’ of Taylor’s public persona, but then it can also be seen as a comment on US politics and the whole climate of society right now. and it’s all tied together perfectly because high school is the perfect metaphor for this!! she’s basically saying we’re all behaving like immature school children, bullying each other for the stupidest reasons, mob mentality, stupid contests, fabricated stories made up to tear people down, and the feeling of loneliness but also fear and horror that comes with all that for the people who are the victims of it.....it’s literally all like high school in the worst way. i just love this concept, and the melody and production give me a little bit of a reputation vibe almost? which is perfect for the song, the dark dramatic vibe shows the feeling of fear most of all and that’s just....too real. 

4. death by a thousand cuts

........listen, i surely didn’t think that Taylor would write one of her best breakup songs in the year of our lord 2019, but here we are. it’s once again, the small moments she recounts. taking the long way home. the uncertainty if it will ever be fine again. and the bridge/second verse / whatever that part is but that entire part. ‘paper cuts from my paper thin plans’, excuse me. the fact that she wrote this about a movie where a couple breaks up after years really shows tbh, because it’s especially that kind of....not being able to find a part of yourself that isn’t influenced by the other person, that’s so horrible and makes moving on so painful. i also love the production which makes this sound so uptempo, contrasting the lyrics! idk the entire song just clicks into place for me

3. daylight

this is like a summary of the entire album (and with the reference to the past and especially red, it’s even connecting her entire discography together). it’s like the clean of this album, except this time around it feels more complex - all the subtle references to past mistakes, ghosts, that might not be so easy to wash away. i’ve already mentioned that i love about the album (and this song especially) how it doesn’t gloss over negative experiences but addresses them directly, like looking them in the eye and then saying ‘you don’t have the power to define me’. that’s what this song feels like - it’s not unabashedly celebratory, it’s actually quite melancholic, but also full of real healing, a feeling of peace and reconciliation. and the ‘i once believed love would be black and white / burning red, but it’s golden’.....excuse me.....how dare she

2. cornelia street

god, what a magical song. the kind of episodic buildup that Taylor excels at. the vibrancy of the production matching the vibrancy of the relationship as it develops, revolving around this one place in its multiple stages, and then the repeated, deep seated fear of losing all that. it’s just. ugh. what can i even say. and so so catchy. the “listen..” killed me. just like delicate, the vibe between fear and being drunk on happiness is so so well done.

1. cruel summer

oh yes. and here we have an absolute perfection of a pop song. incredible catchiness. smart, clever lyrics but also that underlying vibe of sadness and anxiety. seriously, the complexity this has?? and then that soaring bridge, the chaotic but beautiful but painful reality of all of it coming together. ‘i love you, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?’ idk this song just transcends everything for me friends. it’s like the vibe of out of the woods or maybe even style but the lyrics are even more sharp, they cut a little deeper, literally ‘summer’s a knife’. this is a song she only could’ve written influenced by reputation: there’s happiness but there’s that edge in it too. idk if anything i’m saying makes sense. i love this song so so so much. 

[acescreations]

Fusion Sides Part 2. Loceit

[I wrote this as a continuation of What They Have which I'm not going to tag because I'm rather partial to my writing being able to be found. These are probably definitely going to become part of a series I randomly decided to make.]

Summary: Logan is trapped in a fusion with Deceit, and this slowly causes him to lose his sense of identity. (A.K.A. I like making Logan suffer and I'm sorry.)

Characters: Logan Sanders, Deceit Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Pride Sanders, Apathy Sanders, Patton Sanders, Roman Sanders

Warnings: Snakes, Snake bites, Injuries, Physical numbness, Manipulative Deceit, Choking, Dark Sides, Identity loss, Violence, Passing out, Panicking (let me know if I missed any.)

Ships: Royality

Word Count: 2093

I had to get out. 

I ran for the walls of what I assumed was our combined consciousness in the fusion, hoping there was some way out hidden within the dark, towering dome, when I felt a stinging pain in both my wrists before getting pulled to the ground. I looked down, feeling my arms going numb, and there were two snakes clinging to me with their fangs stabbed into my wrists.

I tried to stand back up, but the vipers pulled me down more, forcing me into a kneel. I then felt two more snakes crawling over my legs. I looked back at them and watched as the two snakes which had formed out of the ground tighten around my legs, dragging them down until my legs had disappeared beneath the surface.

We searched around for Deceit, finding him raised on a pedestal, another snake laying calmly across his shoulders. "Deceit, what's going on?" I practically screamed up at him. "What are you doing?" 

Deceit looked down at me, glaring, and we realized far too late that he didn't actually care about me. And we couldn't believe I had let myself fall for it.

That was when Virgil had walked in, calling for me. I opened my mouth to speak, but was cut short as my neck was lunged at, constricted as it was also pulled down. I instinctively gasped for air before remembering how most nonvenomous snakes kill their prey depends on just that. I calmed my breathing as Deceit began speaking, his words repeated in a raspy voice by us. "I'm afraid there is no Logan anymore. From now on, you may call us Loceit."

Virgil stared, wide eyed, before backing out of the room, turning and running towards the commons. We watched him leave, screaming at him to come back, to help us, but of course, all he even could have heard was the static and the beeping.

We calmly watched him leave, waving a hand at the door, willing it to close. Once the door had closed, we turned from it, locking it with another swift hand gesture.

We saw a door on the other side of the distorted room, one we didn't recognize. We walked towards it and opened it, revealing what looked like the commons, but it was darker, more faded. It appeared to be in a state of disrepair.

Standing by the door, waiting for us, was somebody that looked somewhat like Roman, but wearing black rather than white. His entire outfit was so much darker, and somehow more extravagant. He had dark red shoulder tassels, and a black crown rested on his head. He walked up to us, examining our body. "Hmm, let me guess, Logic? Good choice." In his expression, there was mainly curiousity, a sort of mild interest, but hidden behind that was something else I couldn't quite recognize. 

"Get out of my way Pride." We waved a dismissive hand at him and before we turned away from him we caught a glimpse of that unrecognized emotion again, and we realized it was fear.

We were already the leader here, and now we have even more power. And that makes us terrifying.

From over on the worn couch, we heard a voice we immediately recognized as Apathy. "It only makes sense. Not only will Logic be the least likely to be missed, it is also the best factor to have influence over."

As if on cue, we sensed Thomas calling, Virgil having brought up our absence. Thomas was of course anxious, and I tried telling him, telling all of them, that I needed help, but then I felt the fangs in my wrist deepen, and our mind went fuzzy.

We're fine, Thomas. There's nothing to worry about.

We didn't actually believe that, and we wanted to keep calling for help, but the numbness now flooding through our body kept me from doing anything.

Thomas did believe the lie, and then we no longer felt him calling for us. We realized there was no way of getting out.

That night, we saw the binary in our right eye begin flashing red, and through our left eyes the entire rooming began warping. It felt like we were unfusing. We stood jerkily, stumbling to our room. In that time, I could feel the grasp on me weaken, and I became able to think again. That was my chance. I tried pulling myself back up. I was almost able to stand before being pulled back down again. Our fusion reached its room, sitting down against the wall. Its tongue went towards the nearby outlet. We gasped as we felt a sudden jolt, the red flashing in our right eye stopping, the lines of code returning to its normal green. Our mind went numb again. 

We began falling asleep as we sat there, recovering from the drained feeling. We knew we couldn't let ourselves lose that much power again. We almost fell apart.

We forced ourself to stay awake, knowing that if we fell asleep like we wanted to, we'd completely lose control. Then we'd really have no way out. We struggled to stay awake the entire night, even as the fusion fell asleep, barely keeping ourself conscious. 

The next morning, we felt the buzzing in our head end, only to be immediately replaced by the numbness from the venom reaching my mind. And so the events of the previous day repeated, with us struggling to find a way out, or even just keep from passing out.

We couldn't help but wonder how this was effecting Thomas. Apathy said that we were the best trait to have influence over, and we assumed that meant Thomas was having some sort of change because of this. However, we couldn't find any sort of connection to Thomas through the numb fog surrounding our mind. 

This became our life for... we didn't even know how long. Life for us became timeless buzzing of fatigue, and it really did seem like nobody missed us. Any time when Thomas called us to a video I just made Logan tell him that he's fine, but can't make it. So then I'd be able to manipulate Thomas's line of reasoning without me or Logan ever being there.

Even when desperate little Virgil brought their attention to Logan's constant absence, I doubted they'd actually do anything to get him away. We did end up getting pulled into the other side of the Mind Palace, being met by Royality demanding I release Logan. 

"Oh, that won't do much good anyway," I hissed at them. "There's barely anything left of Logan anymore." At this point, I doubted there was much left of Logan at all. I hadn't been paying attention to him for at least a month now.

"You're lying!" I blinked slowly as I turned to face Virgil, the little brat being too loud to ignore. I took a step towards him. "Do you care to test that, Virgil?"

We felt a sudden pain in our abdomen and pulled our head up, as much as we could with it being pulled to the ground, and we saw Royality pointing their wand at us. "I said to let him go!" They shouted at us, but of course, we stayed trapped. We watched Royality raise their wand again and braced for impact. We surpressed a scream of pain as another burst of energy hit us. We looked up, and the rest of us wasn't even reacting.

Our vision flashed white as we were hit again. And again. And again. And again. And again.

"You're only hurting him, you know," we heard the raspy voice speaking, giving us a moment to recover. We tried to keep ourself from gasping in pain as we listened to my voice. "The only person you're hurting right now is Logan, and that is not a lie."

I smiled as Royality lowered their wand, clearly realizing that there was nothing they could do to me. I watched them as I began turning around, receiving no reaction as I began leaving.

We jerked our head up, panic setting in and clearing some of the haze from our mind.

They're really just going to watch as we leave? Don't they know I'm still trapped in here? No no no no no no no they can't just leave me I can't do this anymore they have to get me out please please please help me I can't do this get me out please help me help me help me get me out of here please please please please please 

I ripped my hands from the mouths of the snakes holding them down, ignoring the extreme pain from my wrists being ripped open as I wrapped my hands around the snake coiled around my neck. I ripped it away from my throat, fighting away from the vipers trying to get their fangs back into my arms. "LET ME OUT!" I screamed, the fusion stopping in its tracks as my voice came out, real words through the static instead of code. "I DON'T CARE WHAT HAPPENS TO ME, JUST GET ME OUT OF HERE!" The vipers grabbed hold of my arms again as our throat was constricted, even tighter than before. My head was pulled all the way to the ground, then all we could do was watch as we were stared at. Then Royality nodded to themselves before raising their wand again. We braced for impact. Our vision went white as we felt the hit, then faded to black. 

When we opened our eyes, the first thing we noticed was how we were in a bed, which was unusual, since we usually just sat against the wall as we charged. Then we noticed our room looked bigger than usual. And brighter. And blurrier. Then we heard a voice beside us, even though we never let either of the others into our room. "... it's been three days, and he was in there for months. What if he doesn't wake up, and it's our fault?" I squinted towards the voice, and I saw Pride standing over someone we didn't quite recognize. We thought it might have been Deceit in his disguise, but we were part of him, so that couldn't be right.

"It's gonna be okay Patton," we heard Pride saying. "It's Logan, he'll get through it."

Patton. We recognized that name. We searched through our memory, trying to think of where we recognized it from. Our eyes widened as we remembered where it was from. The other Sides. We're at the other part of the Mind Palace. 

Patton looked at us as we stared, wide-eyed at him, and we began panicking. We might hurt him and we'd have no way to stop ourselves.

"Logan, you're awake! Are you okay? How do you feel?" Patton leaned closer to us, dangerously close. This was the closest anyone had ever come to us, and there was no way he'd be allowed to get away with it. We pushed ourselves back, ignoring the pain in our entire body. If we're moving ourselves then this was the most control we've had over ourselves in an eternity, and we had to use it to keep Patton as safe as possible. However, Patton kept coming closer, holding his hands out to us. "Logan, you need to lay down." We pushed ourselves away until we felt our back hit the wall. We began curling in on ourselves. "Get away from us!" we screamed, but we paused as we registered our voice. It sounded completely normal. No raspy, whispering voice. No beeping, no static. We looked down at ourselves, breathing heavily. It was a familiar body, but one we barely recognized anymore. We-I looked up, into the concerned faces of Patton, Roman, and Virgil, who had apparently joined them. 

As I sat there staring, I remembered what happened. I remembered Loceit being summoned. I remembered the pain of being hit again and again and again by the energy from Royality's wand. I remembered having to rip my hands from the mouths of snakes, the feeling of them tearing open my wrists, how my nails dug into my neck as I struggled to pull away the serpent around my neck so I could speak. I remembered blacking out, and waking up here.

I leaned up against the wall behind me. "I'm myself again," I said in a sigh of relief that came out more as laughter. Then the pain of everything caught up with me again, and I blacked out.

[listoriented]

Burnout: Paradise

1. Burnout. Spinning wheels without moving. Antipodean slang. The smell of burned rubber.

The blank word document is another rounded bend. A few cars here and there loaded in. Driving these virtual streets is seeing ideas, tangents, discourse, thoughts spill off. In front is always nothingness. An inability to grasp on to anything coherent. Yes this is synecdoche, yes this is consumerism, a shiny shell of petromodernity – an actual critical theory term that I now take seriously - yes this is me, my life, my phd in miniature, the imperfect totalising open-world game, or yes this is a microcosm of the entirety of trying to play through the letter “B” of my steam library, stop-start, hopeful then despairing, takes longer than it should, yes this game is a magnum opus and I wish so hard to fill my lungs and release until my fingers are pinching some inflated balloon perfectly full of a graspable idea, or yes this game is fundamentally empty, a comment on a comment; at the bottom of all searches for purpose we find searches for purpose, etc. 

So I start and I start and I start again. I drive I drive I drive. Event after event ticks down, my license goes from learner to D to B to A and then I hit my goal, “Burnout license”, and still I don’t know what I’ll write. Something about driving, in general; driving as notionally relaxing, driving while thinking about other things. How do people write? Write things? My PhD is in pieces on the floor and in the computer and in my head. I drive around Paradise City and terrible emo from the mid-noughties plays, interspersed with long bouts of classical. Days pass, and in the game the day turns into night and back again, and I adjust the clock to make this happen slower, and the weather changes in Paradise City, a little – cycles of rain and cloud and sun - and here in Melbourne the weather changes too. It was the tail end of summer when I started, and we’ve been through the surprising highs and lows of autumn, now settling into winter, doing it all again. There are no roads leading in or out of Paradise City, and it’s a long drive back from the hills.

2.      Burnout. A series of arcade-style racers made for various platforms by Criterion Games [official site] between 2001 and 2011.

It’s a little uncanny, this pocket of 2008. It just looks real good to my rusty, unfussy eyes, like in visual terms it hasn’t aged in ways other games from that year age (though my friend James vehemently disagreed). It does the trick. It does lots of tricks. And it seems rare too, to say of a 2008 game that it’s a masterpiece, that it’s the best of its class, though of Paradise this is surely true, if all reports are to be believed with regards to all other open-world arcade driving games that have come since, including everything else made by Criterion.

Any doubts about its age are firmly put to bed by the soundtrack, though, which despite prominently featuring that Guns N’ Roses song from 1987 just screams mid-2000s at me, abundant “rock” guitars, masc whine and all, very of its time, salvaged by one timeless Avril Lavigne banger, a chunk of classical, and (to a certain extent) personal nostalgia for a time when this sort of soundtrack just seemed vaguely synonymous with “driving game”. There’s also the dated blemish of inane unmutable advice-slider DJ A(u)tomica, who at least has the good grace to (somehow) avoid repeating himself, even after seventeen hours of driving, at a clip of one quip every few minutes or so. There’s also the very 2008 nod to renewable energy via Paradise’s wind farm, harking back to that post- An Inconvenient Truth moment of progressive euphoria when we really all believed we could build towards a sustainable future that would also accommodate our oily desires, before another decade of resource-industry funded filibustering hadn’t proven this, again, impossible.

And yet Paradise stands up in ways that surpass the non-ironic soundtrack of fragile masculinity and the very 00’s DJ Atomica, despite or because of the people-less world, the flat and drab urban interior, the hardly even tokenistic ways of engaging with the city as function rather than form. I particularly like how B:P has not even the faintest hint of story, how even in terms of progression it purely becomes a game of exploration, winning events, checking boxes. It melds (excuse me for a second) form and function and manages not to get in the way of itself – the story is what the player does in the game, where the player goes. It’s kind of breathtaking, rare for any game before or since. (Hopefully it’s clear that I’m not advocating for the dissolution of narrative in games, only that the lack of narrative pretence here is very suited to this particular game, and very preferable to the kinds of irrelevant and bloated narratives that are thrown over e.g. other driving games).

Ah, 2008. It was just there! And yet so far. I played Burnout Paradise for a running total of seventeen hours over nearly three months. During this time, I also played forty-two hours of Tetris99. Everything in its place. Criterion recently announced they’ll shut down the Burnout Paradise’s online servers in August, though Paradise lives on in Remastered (2018) glory, Origin only. 

3. Burnout. The act of refuelling the boost capacity of an engine by running out of boost.

Despite the time I’ve spent with it, the fact that I managed to complete its main in-game objective, and the running thoughts on time and place and representation of cultural norms, I feel I’m struggling to say much of definition about Paradise that fits easily into the scrapbook nature of this blog. Perhaps in some ways it's too close to life; a series of arbitrary checklists through which feeling happens (nebulously) around. I "liked" it but do not feel moved to thought, and I'm aware that that is the point – it’s a game that allows you to drive, endlessly, if you want to, think and do whatever. It won’t get in the way (barring DJ Automica butting in every couple of minutes – he literally cannot be switched off).

I do not drive much these days. Last year when Lauren and I moved to Canberra, we drove nearly 4000 kilometres across the country. The landscapes wound by, at the time fleetingly, but they piled on and left deep rivulets in my head, and though it was just five days and nothing really happened – we leant on the accelerator, stopped every hour, listened to music, stayed in nothing-motels quite literally hundreds of kms from anywhere else and ate forgettable takeaway - it feels immense, now. Driving is funny like that - you are never quite in a place, separated from it by machine noise and windows and infrastructure, the one activity you can do to facilitate thinking about something else. Still, impressions, motion, the sense of having moved, of having journeyed. Here in Australia, the fossil fuel lobby has won its third straight election in a row. Hope is eroding into nothing.

Probably my favourite hour or two in Paradise City was spent mucking around in the online section with Roy and James, trying to check off a few of the game's multiplayer challenges. These involved such serious exercises as trying to do barrel a series of barrel rolls, or try and land on top of each other, or smash into each in mid-air, or drive on top of a parking lot to jump a ramp onto a shopping centre. It was very good, if a little eerie and dystopic, strewn with outdated real-and-paid-for advertising billboards, branded vehicles, quaint echoes of paused time and uncanny dilapidation.

The mill of the game I could never quite settle on - I “liked” it, I think, but it wasn’t without problems. I found the single-player events to be mindlessly enjoyable, ploughing other cars into crash barriers, or effortlessly holding down "boost" to accelerate down a straight and into a finish line, celebratory cutaway shot ensuing. Sometimes I crashed into too many grey girders that my eyes hadn't picked out and got frustrated, or sometimes I missed a critical turnoff and got frustrated. Sometimes they just felt like chores, and it was certainly sometimes annoying to not be able to restart events that I had botched, and it took me ten hours to learn you could opt out of races, stunt runs etc just by letting the car idle for a few seconds. And knowing this probably would have saved me a lot of time in the early game, because like I said it’s a long way back from the hills, where like three out of eight events end up at, and committing to staying in a race which after a couple of botched turns and unseen barriers you’re definitely not going to win, whose distant finish line is going to land you a long way from the nearest event (once you finally get there) can feel pretty dire, really, though there was also part of me that admired how Burnout refused to let you jump around the map, forced you to drive, take your time, see the city, see the sights.

I did appreciate the cracky coloured collectms of Paradise City, how they brought the city to life, sort of, or gave it the impression of being a well designed and thought-through playground, though I never got too completionist about them, the core exercise of the whole thing. Both John Walker of RPS and Chris Donlan of Eurogamer have written about Paradise’s fluoro crash gates, the impulse to reinstall the game every year and knock them all down from scratch. Along the way to getting my “Burnout license” I unlocked 36 of the 75 vehicles, jumped 35 of the 50 super jumps, broke 79 of 120 neon red billboards, and smashed through 353 of 400 aforementioned glowing yellow crash barriers. The game puts me at 55% completed. No steam achievements (woulda been nice, perhaps, given that Burnout Paradise is fundamentally a collectmup; nothing but metres and percentages). I’ve driven a little over 1000 miles, supposedly, which is certainly more than I’ve IRL driven over the past few months.

4.  Burnout. noun Physical and emotional exhaustion; breakdown caused by overwork. Commonly associated with “crunch”, “the video game industry”.

But here there is also pure hesitation. Procrastination. The fear of moving on, even at the end of this little step of what has ballooned into an impossible project. I can see the next letter waiting there, a new chapter, a chance for renewal. The one disappearing behind us has drawn out so far, encompassed a few years and a fair bit of change, and now almost petered into nothing at the final gate. I want to hit the ground running but I'm not sure I'm ready, and in the meantime various other deadlines swirl around, make it difficult to see the clear path ahead that I crave. And so it is that the temptation has been there to keep driving the streets of Paradise, its anonymous suburbs and abstract goals, continue delaying the inevitable, or the nearly inevitable, or the not-inevitable-at-all of writing this post and moving on to the next chapter, because it turns out this is a project I once made a choice to begin, and could at one point choose to stop.

There are nagging questions, of course. Who blogs, anymore? Who reads blogs anymore? How does one find a blog they like and then continue to follow it for the span of its natural life? Does anyone use “bookmarks”? What’s an RSS feed? I'm not even sure, in a broader sense, that I know where to find the kinds of writing about games that I want to read at the moment, at least not reliably, outside of say the occasional check-through of Critical Distance or Unwinnable. I look at the slate of games coming out and find it hard to be excited by anything much, the hype and the saturation. It is bountiful until it is not. The guilt element of playing games – something inherited from childhood that I’ve never been entirely able to dissociate - has become more and more prominent. I've increasingly used games as a tool for procrastination and a coping mechanism, a distraction from various (work/study and other) anxieties. I've also been aware of myself doing this, and in turn the kinds of gaming experiences I've relied on have been more focused on short term, low-investment distraction (hence the sudden unyielding devotion to Tetris, which really was just filling the hole left by an earlier act of self-discipline AKA uninstalling Rocket League; more recently, as I’ve managed to put the Switch away for longer periods, I’ve turned back to another simple but deceptive time-filler in Mini Metro. Choose your poison, basically). For a while it seemed Burnout would not only fill this role but do it responsibly: it seemed great for dropping into in short bursts - win a race or two, unlock a new car maybe – without quite the same dangerously addictive pull for me as those other games. But then I heard the GnR song "Paradise City" one too many times (it's mandatory with startup), or got sick of the menu loading times, and it lost this specific part of its appeal.

And then there's the subjective nature of this particular Sisyphean project - the knowledge that here I am pushing a rock up a mountain of my own making, one that exists only for me, entirely built out of and defined by the games and bundles I chose and continue to choose to buy, the rules I chose to set. Life is short, this task is absurd, and at the moment it's not even a joke I feel particularly happy about sharing. Sometimes I get to play great games here, games I may never have gotten around to; at other times I am playing shit games for this blog, and in the process there are inevitably other things I'm not doing. One choice erases another. Increasingly it feels like an isolated pursuit - playing games in general, not just the writing and making of this here blog. It seems like I know fewer people who play games these days, between falling out of touch with friends, seeing lots of other old friends give up games in one way or another, and playing games less frequently with those who I still know. I’ve accidentally become something of a game hermit. For years I've loved the camaraderie and easy familiarity of social gaming experiences even when I haven't loved the games that conduct them - the feeling of being connected to people even in a transient, shallow, goal-oriented sense, but even these I'm not sure I believe in anymore, or I find myself less and less willing to invest in the "right" titles to facilitate it.

I’m into my thirties now, and maybe this is just a feeling of age, life, I dunno, priorities finally shifting to where people told me they should’ve years ago. One of my oldest friends is about to have a baby, though he more or less quit video games over a year ago now. I'm extremely happy for him. Two of my younger cousins just had children, several hours away by plane – my uncle, a new grandfather to two babies, makes posts on facebook claiming climate change is a socialist hoax, and I can’t help but think of the kind of world his grandchildren are going to inherit. I'm mulling over a missed deadline that's been a thorn in my brain now for months, the single-largest hitherto unsaid reason why this post has taken so long to dig its way to the surface. This month marks the five year anniversary of another cousin’s sudden/unexpected passing; he was five years older than me, and though I’ll never be able to make sense of it, I feel like I get that there’s something sort of vulnerable about this age, when the things you want don’t quite work out, or when you’re a bit aimless and stuck in your patterns and feel like things aren’t going to change. He was so kind and gentle, a beautiful soul and a terrible Zerg, and I miss him so much. And one year ago I drove from Canberra to Melbourne and slept on the floor of this house I now call home while I waited for a truck with rest of my stuff to arrive. I’m very aware of the calendar, of change and inertia, of patterns and decay, of newness sprouting underfoot, but I don’t know how games fit at the moment, or I’ve lost the thread of feeling like they’re actually important, or why, amongst all the noise.

Burnout: Paradise is at the start, in the middle, and right at the end of all these things. It's a great game, part of me feels, or wants to say I feel. Playful, irreverent, childishly violent, simultaneously full of stuff and empty of matter. I'm happy I've played it, happy I can say that I've played it, happy to understand on an experiential level most of what it offers, happy I'll be able to remember it later, nod in some hypothetical conversation where someone brings up Burnout: Paradise and say I know what they mean, yeah. I get it. When we were playing it online together briefly, a couple of months back now, Roy told me that Burnout Paradise is the only game he ever one hundred percented twice - once on 360, once on PC - and that it was almost three times, because the first time he was almost done with it, someone broke into his house and stole his Xbox and all his games, and that Paradise was the only game that he re-bought with the insurance money, so determined he was to tick every box the game left open to tick, even if it meant doing it all again.

But maybe – counterpoint - I don’t get it. I’m finding it harder and harder to make good sense of this kind of experience, or feel like this kind of thing is (in some arbitrary way) a net positive, or that it’s okay to keep glossing over the emulation of destruction that games of so many different kinds fundamentally rely on. Outside there is so much suffering, so much to be upset about, and I no longer feel like there is time enough to sink into mindless (rather than meaningful, perhaps?) distraction. Or I’m finding it harder to get beyond the thought that this is an extension of the distraction/avoidance behaviour that I realised might actually be a problem in my life.

“Burnout” is, you’ll know, here in the great mess of the year 2019, a buzz word, particularly in the games industry. Games company employees have perpetually been expected to work unsustainable hours out of some sort of devotion to the industry, creating a cycle of talent depletion and toxic work cultures. But as is often the case with games, it’s a tip-off of what happens elsewhere, across the board. The mass casualisation of careers across all industries, the gig economy, pressures caused by un- and under- employment, the dissipation of viable faith, social-media and political stresses: all of these are leading to burnout, everyone has burnout, we are inundated with burnout. There is something ripe about the words or the idea of Burnout: Paradise, the very conceptual juxtaposition that seems to be two sides of the same coin, that feels very reflective of this moment, what we are all experiencing versus what we were promised. But what does this have to do with Burnout: Paradise, the game in which you pretend drive fake person-less cars around a virtual city, have horrific, visceral crashes from which you immediately respawn and “beat” by achieving a long series of arbitrary victories, collecting all there is to collect? Something, nothing, I don’t know.

“Burnout” means a lot of things, and the meaning of “burnout” the game adopts isn’t the other ones I’d associate with cars – a burnt out engine, or the smell of burning rubber - but one that exists only for the series, so far as I can tell: getting to keep using your boost because you’ve been continually using your boost. Keep going at all cylinders or bust, basically – except not, because the consequences for interrupting the boost are slim even on the relative scale of things that can go right or wrong, in this game where there is never really all that much on the line for the player anyway.

Paradise. n. Heaven. A place to await judgement. An enclosed park. Eden.

In Paradise City the grass is trim; the girls (all humans actually) are non-existent, unless you happen to be riding a motorcycle, presumably because a motorcycle without a rider would look very weird.

In Paradise City the cars are peopleless and drive themselves, so maybe it is an early vision of the tech bro version of Paradise. Or maybe the cars are driven by people who can only exist on the outside of the world of Paradise City, looking in across the matrix. Or maybe in Paradise City the people are the cars. This is Cars, the movie, sans dialogue.

In Paradise City all the cars emulate brands and models that exist in "the real world" but are called by names that exist only in the Burnout franchise.

In Paradise City all the cars ostensibly run on petrol, which is infinite but unnecessary, because going through a petrol station merely refills the car's boost capacity, whatever that is, rather than imply that your car would stop running if you at some point failed to “fill up”. It's very important that you know, though, that the cars run on petrol, because otherwise it wouldn't be a realistic representation of cars. Even in Paradise.

In Paradise City cars exist and then don't exist.

In Paradise City a lot more cars suddenly exists if someone decides they want to flip their car over and see how much monetary damage they can cause.

In Paradise City cars crash and crumple in a hyper-realistic way, but it's okay because the cars have no drivers and anyway all cars are all miraculously fine again after a few moments.

In Paradise City the railway has been shut down to give cars more places to hang out. 

In Paradise City the whole city runs on wind energy, because it's important to care about the environment too, because you can have both, promises the radio, though seeing as there's nobody there in all of Paradise's buildings it's unclear, anyway, what such energy would actually be running.

onward to Caesar 3

[boobdolan]

a review of melodrama (2017) by lorde

hey what’s up it’s your boy b-dawg. the b is for boobs as in breasts. this post is a track-by-track review of melodrama, the grammy-nominated sophomore studio album by ella yelich-o’ connor (aka lorde), a new zealand singer-songwriter who likes to dance funny and eat onions. her first album was pure heroine which was pretty big bc i think people (angsty teens) related to her songs about being an angsty teen.

i’m gonna keep it real with you chief. when i first heard green light (the lead single from the album) i thought it was pretty ass. but you know what. i’m an ass man despite my username. so eventually by some karmic circumstance i was reintroduced to the album and i realised: “hey! this is pretty dope! 😎” and then i ended up writing a 4000-word extended essay on it for the IB. but that’s another story.

green light is also the first track on the album, and it’s a hella effective one. with its intro bringing listeners acapella ella™️ over sparse piano chords, it kicks open the door to the sound of melodrama and immediately subverts any expectations for a pure heroine 2.0. as the song progresses we get additional elements of new and old - the boom-bap drums recall the hip-hop influences that permeated pure heroine, while her high-pitched backing vocals in the chorus introduce listeners to new vocal stylings from a singer who was previously known for being a Cool Bean who was Too Cool for all that stuff.

as the maximalist bop green light ends, listeners are thrown even further away from the sound of pure heroine with sober. personal note: sober was the song i most liked on the album upon first listen. and I can see why. it’s because i’ve got good taste! from the spacey uber-processed backing vocals to the bongo beat to the horns in the chorus, the song’s really unlike much else in the pop scene today. i especially like the “night, midnight, lose my mind” intro because when i first heard it i was like “wtf???? cool 🤠” anyway, point is, ella and her bf did well on this track.

at this point one might think, “this girl has a thing for acapella intros to her songs”. and she does! homemade dynamite starts, like an action movie, in situ, with its musings about top gun and the house party that the album is conceptually based around. one thing i love about the song is its synths. the 80s inspiration is obvious, with the synth pad emulating the iconic Fairlight sound on kate bush’s running up that hill. however, the moodiness of the synth pad is contrasted with a sprightly riff that comes in every now and then, emphasising that Potent Teenage Mix of Emotions™️ that the album is focused around. lorde also uses contrast in her lyrics, pairing wordy, literary, stream-of-consciousness style verses with almost childish phrases like “know I think you’re awesome, right???” it’s things like this that really encapsulate the state of being teenaged to me - that uncertain transitional period between adolescence and adulthood.

the following song starts with a very indie-sounding guitar, which is an unconventional sound for a lorde song. but the louvre is so typically lordey in that it shows off one of her greatest skills - the ability to create memorable, quotable lines with unique phrasing. who else would think of stammering the line “i overthink your punctuation use”?? who else would think of using a spoken “broadcast the boom boom boom boom and make ‘em all dance to it” as a hook??? another thing of note in this song is its extended U2-esque instrumental outro, courtesy of jack antonoff. sometimes when i listen to it, i understand why ella is banging him.

jack then mumbles the intro to the next song and starts playing the piano. after a few bars, ella joins him and her voice basically has sex with his tinkling on the ivories. liability is objectively great. lyrically, she reaches mind-bending extremes that many of her contemporaries can only dream of achieving. there’s a verse where she goes “home, into the arms of the girl that [she] loves” which is very interestingly constructed - it hits listeners with the initial shock of “oh wait is ella coming out” and just Leaves It for a few lines. and theN BOOM!!!! she’s actually talking about herself. that’s pretty cool. one other thing is her rhyme scheme in the line “the truth is, i am a toy that people enjoy ‘til all of their tricks don’t work anymore” which has a devastating effect that always gets me, even though it greatly takes advantage of her bananies voice.

now the listener is halfway through the album, and at this point they’re likely as hard as the feelings in the title of the next song. hard feelings/loveless brings us back into the world of electronic drums and synths after the minimalism of liability, and it does so excellently, providing an ambient atmosphere with its muffled beat and echoey distorted guitar. this song used to be one of my least favourites on the album because I thought the L O V E L E S S chant in the second part sounded kinda dumb and edgy. but then i watched lorde’s performance of the song for VEVO and ?????? WtF????? it really shines with a small choir and a boombox. fantastic. i also appreciate the little paul simon sample that bridges the two parts together - it’s a rare example of lorde wearing her influences on her sleeve for this album. also paul simon is one cool mf. i pop my pussy to graceland 24/7. 😎👌

taking a note from jack antonoff’s albums, the next song is a reprise, which have been used by many artists after the beatles to say “hey look my album is cohesive!” even though the only reason why it’s cohesive is because it’s cohesively shit. that’s not the case with sober II (melodrama), which functions as a response to the first sober. the parent song’s repeated calls of “can you feel it?” are immediately countered in sober II’s first line: “you asked if i was feeling it, i’m psycho high”. that’s cool because it reinforces the house party concept of the album. however, while i think the strings and trap drums combo sounds cool on paper, this production choice is the album’s first misstep because it sounds like jack put together 2 apple loops on garageband that didn’t quite fit.

luckily, before lorde turns into one of the migos, we’re treated with another piano song - writer in the dark. a word about lorde’s vocal performance in this song: WOW!!!!!!!!!! 😃😃😃 good stuff! in the verses, her raspy, imperfect voice highlights the intimacy and personal nature of the lyrics. in the chorus, she double tracks her voice and sings with a more round tone, which gives the eerie effect of sounding a bit like kate bush. it’s ok. i’m a bush man too. jack does a little production trick in the outro where ella sings the hook progressively louder as he fades out her vocal and lets the song be overtaken by strings. while it’s cool, i feel like he quite obviously snagged it from the outro of david bowie’s “heroes”, where a similar trick was achieved by the production god brian eno. jack then did it again on the song slow disco by st. vincent later in the year. side note: i’m still kinda pissed about what he did to st. vincent’s masseduction. more on that another time.

the next song, which should’ve been a single, features the metaphor of a supercut. i’m not sure how i feel about that because, on one hand, the term feels very millennial, like a better-written version of katy perry’s save as draft. you know what i mean? like those songs that aged fast - crazy in love with its pager reference, and payphone with its..... payphone reference. on the other hand, a supercut is pretty timeless, as montages have been used in cinema since the french first figured out how to make moving pictures. and the word sounds cool, so it’s ok i guess. but that’s beside the point. the song’s really nice, with some very interesting moments. one notable instance is lorde’s phrasing and the instrumentation in the prechorus - “in your car, the radio on”. the instrumentation just stops for a beat after ella sings the line, in a genius move that makes the song Even More Boppable!!. another moment is how the beat changes during the final choruses - from mellow, with her voice sounding like it’s coming out of a cassette player, to full, regaining all the instrumentation of the original choruses. then the song ends with a weird echoey vocal outro that’s a fantastic moment for me, especially after the intensity of the final choruses. boner time!!!!! 😃 one last cool thing about the song is that i feel the line “so I fall into continents and cars” is an Excessively paul simon thing to say. it’s one of those abstract things that just sounds GREAT, like “fat charlie the archangel sloped into the room” from his song crazy love, part II.

speaking of part twos, the end of supercut transitions into the bassy, atmospheric synths of liability (reprise). unfortunately, i still haven’t gotten round to fully appreciating this song. to me, it’s the biggest misstep on melodrama. don’t get me wrong - it’s a nice enough song, it’s really chill, but it feels slight because of its association to the majestic, melodic liability. apart from their lyrics, there’s not much that links the two. i feel that liability needed no reprise; it’s a work that stands on its own. i felt the same way about yandhi when kanye west announced it. yeezus doesn’t need another album associated to it! it’s perfection by itself. also, someone pointed out that the drums on liability (reprise) are the same as those on taylor swift’s call it what you want, and the last time taylor and jack screwed up a great indie artist’s work was fast slow disco, which we don’t talk about in this house.

finally, we come to the end of lorde’s house party with perfect places. and what a brilliant ending it is. there’s something so stirring about the drum beat, with its crunchy, decisive snare. there’s something equally moving about the synths and chord progression in the chorus, which give me chills like loud organs echoing in a church. when put together, they sound industrial, menacing, as if they move into your soul and alienate you from your own body. but at the same time, they’re an emotional release, a source of comfort like bruce springsteen’s cathartic 70s and 80s albums. another cathartic element - the use of the word “fuck” in the chorus. i could write a whole essay on it tbh. to me, it represents an intensely freeing release of the bad vibes and negativity in one’s life - for lorde, perhaps, her failed relationship and the state of the world in 2016. you know how studies have shown that when you shout “FUCK!!!!😡😡” after hitting your toe on furniture, it helps ease the pain? it’s like that. so while saying something taboo on the record is such an edgy angsty teenage thing to do, but also reflects lorde’s release from her pain. or maybe i’m reading too much into it.

the album ends as it begins, with ella’s bare vocals, reminding us that she is once again the Queen of Indie Pop. overall, melodrama gets a

9/10

for being really cool. peace out bitches. 🤠

[stupidpianist]

9 october 2018

18:06: It’s 18:06 while I’m starting this post and I’m, like, “therapeutically” listening to Glenn Gould perform Chopin’s third sonata over my speakers, and I have this apples and cinnamon candle going to my right. My brain is saying, “burn, baby, burn, yeah, that’s right,” at the candle, I think.

Deciding to do this through mutual “peer pressure” I’m getting from continuously reading Knausgaard’s My Struggle for the last several years, and more recently from Megan Boyle’s just-published Liveblog, which I’m now, like, fifty-one pages in, feeling increasingly obsessed with each subsequent page (i mean like the books are peer pressuring me i don’t mean like ppl are, attacking me, or something, for not doing this). I’m gonna quote the start of her liveblogging experiment:

“Starting today, march 17, 2013, i will be liveblogging everything i do, think, feel, and say, to the best of my ability. right now there is no one i talk to frequently enough to effect by my failure to follow through with tasks i said i’d do. the only person ‘keeping tabs’ on my life is me. as time has been passing, i have been feeling an equally uncontrollable sensation of my life not belonging to me or something. like it’s just this event i don’t seem to be participating in much, and so could be attending by mistake. maybe i wasn’t invited. clerical error. i witness myself willfully allowing opportunities to fade away, because sometimes, for whatever reason, it is hard for me to do things that i know will make me happy.

i can’t control getting older but i can control what i do as i age. also, i feel like my memory is deteriorating. i used to like documenting my daily activities. that seemed to help me remember more. lately the things i’ve been doing haven’t felt worth remembering, but i feel like that could just be a mind trick, and if i start writing more again, i’ll convince myself everything is basically the same as however many years ago it was when i felt more satisfied or hopeful or whatever it is i don’t feel now.

**THIS IS NOT GOING TO BE INTERESTING** **I AM NOT GOING TO TRY TO MAKE THIS SOUND INTERESTING OR TRY TO MAKE YOU LIKE ME OR THINK ABOUT IF YOU ARE READING THIS OR ENJOYING READING THIS, IT’S JUST GOING TO BE WHAT IT IS: A FUNCTIONAL THING THAT WILL HOPEFULLY HELP ME FEEL MORE LIKE IMPROVING MYSELF**”

Feel strongly that this, p. wholly, encompasses why I’m gonna try doing this again, too. Previously “in my life” I used to make, like, daily videos, or “vlog”-type things, and for another period, I wrote one short story a day, and for another period, I wrote, like, a letter-a-day to the general public describing what I did that day, and during each of these periods, I think I felt my general productivity, motivation, mood, well being, increase notably.

Also feel strongly that I won’t be able to, nearly as accurately, follow my day minute-by-minute as Megan did, will probably revert to something I write at the end of each day, or something, I’m not sure yet, or, like, maybe smaller posts as the day goes on? I don’t know give me a couple of days to figure it out please, I really don’t, I’m not sure.

Feel excited by this, feeling like, “yeah, this is a good thing to do, yeah, yeah, you do this, George, just ‘give it a shot,’ ‘go for it,’ ‘you got this.’”

18:22: Just got a text from my mom that said “the big pile is beans! Silly” in response to my replying “too spicy!” to a photograph she sent me, of a mound of flat beans, and a couple of cayenne peppers next to them. I just replied, “I meant the big red peppers.” I’m grinning a lot.

(earlier today) 09:00: Woke this morning to the sound of workers on the floor above mine still renovating apartments. They do this aggressive, rhythmic hammering, which then stops for a few seconds, then resumes for a seconds, then stops for a few seconds, then resumes again. Made it extremely hard to “sleep in,” which I wasn’t even planning on doing, but after cancelling all of my alarms, I sort of just drifted in-and-out of sleep in a weird numb stupor. 

12:00: Eventually got out of bed, feeling semi-disgusted at myself.

Decided to go with a “classic” outfit today, something from my youth, something from years past, something timeless. Chose brown pants with repeated cartoon raccoon pattern on it, grey long-sleeve shirt, “Don’t Give Up. Never Give Up.” black hoodie. 

13:00: Felt “mild amazement” that I was “somehow, already” dressed, in a vaguely positive way.

I was like, “yes, yes, yes, keep riding out this positive emotion,” and made a “G Fuel” energy shake. Strawberry shortcake flavour. Highly recommend. Chugged smoothie while idly watching YouTube videos of tech topics. Had a moment where I was like, “oh crap, dude, you’ve only got, like, five hours of productivity left in the day, you gotta leave, get out of your apartment dude, leave, leave now,” and then, sort-of panicking, grabbed backpack, headphones, iPod, put on shoes, ran out of apartment to McLennan library.

13:16: Yeesh it was so warm today, like, what happened? We gonna get autumn or what, huh? You too chicken to “bring on the cold”? Got to the library, sweating like a disgusting piggie. Chose a computer in the Cybertheque area, couldn’t sit next to the windows where I usually like to sit to squirrel and people watch out my peripherals. I was all, “man you’re gonna get so much done, you’re gonna get all that goodass studying done aren’t you, you’re gonna breeze through these readings,” and then NOPE nada that is not what happened at all. I just pulled up Spotify and played Grouper and then read more of Megan’s Liveblog for like three straight hours, with “intense focus,” I felt, like, “undeviating focus,” like, “laser-like focus,” like, “hawk-like attention to detail.” Felt mildly insane, like, I absolutely could not believe how engrossed in the book I was.

I WASN’T ALL UNPRODUCTIVE look here me out please, you have to at least be on my side a LITTLE: okay here’s the productive things I did okay:

-checked electricity/hydro bill

-checked when midterms were

-checked work schedule for the week

Look I know I know it’s not a lot but please just shut up for like two seconds gosh

A strange thing that started happening—even though my mood started, like, at 7.5/10 when I got to the library, after three hours it dropped, like, severely. Like a lot, I have no idea why, just the natural curve of the day I guess but like by 17:00 I was at a 3/10 if that and was like, “I gotta get out of here, get out of here, yo, hey, stand up, walk outside, get some of that ‘sweet, sweet’ sunlight before the sun disappears for another twelve or thirteen hours, go, log out of the computer, move your butt, move faster, go go go go” and then the “go”s continued faster and faster until I was outside, and, like, dancing a bit to the album I was playing (Prequelle, by Ghost. Been listening to a lot of Ghost recently. Been really “Ghost”ing it up, if you smell what I’m cookin’.)

Then while walking I was like, “alright, okay, it’s ‘time,’ when you get home, just start writing, just ‘do it,’ it doesn’t matter if you have nothing to say, you’ll thank yourself later,” and alsoo another part of my brain was going “start yoga, you promised [your best friend] Alli you’d start yoga, you even told me you wanted to start yoga, why haven’t you started it yet????”

18:40: Earnestly feeling a lot better, yeah, yeah, I am!! I’m gonna finish this post for today but wow that actually helped a lot. I know that Megan’s liveblog experiment ended up having net-detrimental effects on her life, we’ll have to see “how this goes.” Also unfair to compare each experiment as hers was minute-by-minute, and mine is like totally not minute-by-minute to such a significant degree that the data sets can’t be cross-referenced, I feel? I don’t know.

Do any of u ppl have a yoga mat you are looking to sell or could let me borrow? My apartment floor is linoleum and almost as uncomfortable as it is unpleasant to look at. I have, like, this rug from Ikea, but it’s not really in a good position for “yoga-like purposes,” nor is it especially padded, or furry, or like, whatever, you know what I’m trying to say. Gonna use it for now and just “see how it goes,” maybe it’ll actually be just fine? Gosh I don’t even know, feel so unsure about everything. Feeling hopeful, though, feeling “very hopeful,” this was a lot of fun, yeah, yes; gonna try and put in more detail tomorrow, with more timestamps “for accuracy,” or something. Feel strongly that this will be possible, will be bringing around a notebook to “log things in” now that htis project has started, yeah, uh-huh, mhmm, yes yes yes

[lukefluffandstuff]

youngblood; thoughts

youngblood

fave angsty teen babby

CAUSE I’M JUST A DEAD MAN WALKING TONIGHT

there’s something about luke’s voice that makes me so fml

i think it’s the rasp

like

the rasp

want you back

luke’s falsetto will always get me

tbh this is one of my least faves but it has that repeatability and i fuckin hate myself for replaying this over and over and over

lie to me

;;;;;;; literally no words

everything about it renders me speechless because it itself is an entity, like a timeless queen

it’s so heartbreaking but it’s like they’re trying to hold on and keep themselves together

AND HARMONIES

I COULDN’T HEAR THEM AT THE CONCERT BUT THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL

lie to me is raw and vulnerable and it’s one of those songs where you really need to take a moment to let it sink in because if you let it pass you by you’re doing it dirty

“now i wish we never met” dAMN STRAIGHT BISH IF WE NEVER MET I WOULDN’T BE HAVING ALL THESE UNNECESSARY EMOTIONS

there’s an innocence to it that i can’t place my finger on

valentine

my Gothic Vampire Baby

it took me awhile but it grew on me and now i’m grooving

this takes gothic sexual to a whole new level 

now i want to be a seductress 

talk fast

tEcHNo bEaTS

it’s so disco and shoulder wiggles

calum

cAlum

damn straight i’ll give you second i’ll give you a minute a day a month a year a decade my life

i mean

ahem

during the bridge, luke looked like he was going to lead us to liberation and i was like LOLOLOLOLOLOLOL TAKE ME WITH YOU

moving along

is it bad if you’re naked on your sofa???

calum baby anything’s fine

but this song is so like

it’s filled with so many regrets and guilt

but it’s also really problematic, and i feel that that’s the beauty of it because humans are generally problematic and complex in nature

and it’s natural to be really toxic particularly when it comes to relationships

wOw i’m getting real philosophical up here

if walls could talk

this is like some secret rendezvous and i don’t mind getting down

“not everything is so primitive” luke don’t

lyrically, this song is the most cryptic because i can’t seem to get them down

but it’s mainly revolving around want and longing and lust(?)

OKAY BUT IT’S SUPER GROOVY AND I AM DIGGING THIS

a lot of people say that they prefer sgfg and i somewhat agree because sgfg was a real emotional rollercoaster

but youngblood is actually giving us new and young blood, and it’s really different from their previous albums and i think it’s great that they are a band that explores a multitude of genres

better man

straight up i thought

2013 ed sheeran lyrics with 2017 ed sheeran beat/melody

it’s definitely more poppy and sounds like something 1d would release - NO OFFENSE by the way, i love 1d it’s just a comment

it’s not one of those songs which would make me think or want to hear it once more

more

O K A Y

THE STARTING IS A MOVIE

GETTING INTO YOUR CAR AND REVVING THE ENGINE AND ROLLING OUT OF YOUR DRIVEWAY

ughhhhhh this is so good

i don’t even know how to put this into words 

it’s one of those songs where it rides on the passion and emotions and you really got to f e e l the music to know

sort of like spitting out random words in order convey how you feel about this song

why won’t you love me

this one really hit me

and it’s so direct with its feelings

it doesn’t hide any hidden messages or feelings whatsoever it’s really just coming out and asking why won’t you love me

particularly when the two have gone through so much

and you think you have a connection but the other just leaves and rejects you

and you get stuck in that turmoil and start wondering why

woke up in japan

oh wow this like some acid trip

i’m imagining technicolour backgrounds

and sensual kisses and touch

i want to wake up in japan like this

empty wallets

this already feels emo

UNEXPECTEDLY UPBEAT

SPEND IT ALL ON ME

god make this my anthem what

MICHAEL

HELLO???????

BELIEVE IN ME B

ghost of you

okay you know it’s getting serious when you hear the picking of the strings

the piano!!!!!!

i imagine someone running in a field for some reason

amnesia pt 2 but the cousin who’s more mature and is looking back on memories and tries to suppress it

this doesn’t feel like a breakup, but more of the other passed on without any warning and now they have to deal with it

yeah sure “ghost” but it’s one of those songs where you have to move on simply because nature tells you to do so

monster among men

STARTING WITH MICHAEL YES MY BOI

the beat is weird

it keeps changing and i’m like eh???????

it slows;;;;;;

i am confused

props to ashton for keeping up with these weird beats thoooo

this song wasn’t what i was expecting 

hmmmm it requires a couple of listens before i can really get into it i feel

meet you there

BITCH BODY WORMS FOR DAYS

SOSOSOSOSOSO GOOD

i don’t even know how to classify this kind of rock but it’s so fhaiwuel ahahahahaha kill me

this is so groovy

drumsdrumdrumsdrumsdrums ashton fml

babylon

OH WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW

this is sensual body rolls at its finest

CALUM FUCK ME UP

oml i had some expectations for this song and THEY DID NOT DISAPPOINT

(i know the target version has two extra songs) but this is good way to finish this album

vaguely reminds me of tomorrow never dies

THIS IS CALUM’S SONG GUYS

they’re really taking this whole new album thing to a new level

i want to go higher

such good music we’ve been spoilt

yall i love 5sos and now i just want to implode and explode and combine all the pieces to c o m b u s t

this album’s definitely more mature in the sense where the self-titled album was all about teen love and want and youth, sgfg tackling issues that youth faces, but this is matured where it reflects their age, it’s sort of wild in its own way, but it also has that emotional turmoil where you’re left wondering why you’re so alone and why love doesn’t work out

[an-angels-blessing]

Dream Catcher

Song🐣🎵- The Wolf And The Sheep Artist🤸‍♂️🎤- Alec Benjamin Warnings😳⛔- Slight angst, anger, fluff Prompt🥺🔥- N/A

The twenty students sat in their seats, simply staring at the adults standing at the front of the class beside their teacher. Behind the desk stood a man of average height with dark circles under his eyes and a scarf wrapped around his neck, despite the fact that it was still summer. On the right of him stood a tall man with red hair and fire blazing from his suit. Next to him stood a smaller male with vermillion wings, a woman with large bunny ears leaned on the man's shoulder in a playful manner. Lastly, the youngest of the adults sat on top of the desk, she was a dark complexion with a large afro and a bodysuit with a mix of garnet and black. To complete the look, she wore large rectangular glasses that covered the entirety of her eyes. (I just made her Garnet, didn’t quite feel like creating a whole new costume.) A small smile could be seen on the youngest face, while a smirk was clear on the shortest and his friend.

The first to break the silence was the teacher of the class. “So today we will be welcoming the top 4 heroes who took time out of their days to come talk to you about how they became heroes. Today we will have Hawks, Endeavor, Miriko, and Dream Catcher.” His voice was monotone and void of any emotion, but he still managed to keep the attention of his entire class as he motioned towards the heroes that stood beside him. “We will be starting from the youngest, Dream Catcher who is only 19.” His next sentence pulled everyone’s attention to the hero that sat on the desk. “Thank you Shota. Hi 1-A. '' Her voice was high and almost didn’t match her look. The entire class spoke in unison, responding to her greeting. “Hello Dream Catcher '' It was so well done that Dream Catcher questioned if this had been practiced before or were they always this creepy. Nonetheless she stood from the desk and began walking around the students desks, touching a few that were familiar. “God, I remember sitting in those exact same seats 3 years ago. It’s crazy how time flies. But, I guess I’m not really here to talk about you guys am I. So, who here knows my real name?” The hero did an entire lap, not oblivious to the stares coming from almost all of the male students, before sitting on the floor in front of the desk she was just seated on.

The first to raise their hand was Mineta, though a few other hands were close behind. “Alora Truman.” His voice was nasally and held a lot more than adoration. “You are correct, I know most heroes don’t disclose their real name for safety reasons, but knowing a hero’s name only means something if they have something to protect or hide, and well… I don’t. So, what else do you guys know about me?” Through the entire conversation the smile on Alora's face never faltered in any way. Deku was the only one to raise his hand, Alora wasn’t a spotlight hero, despite being in the top 5, so this wasn’t surprising. She was as well known as Aizaiwa. “Yes Deku?” The green haired boy's face quickly turned crimson, “Y-you know my name?” This made Alora giggle slightly. “Of course I do, you remind me a lot of myself. But, what’s your response?”

This set the boy back on track, leading to an unneeded monologue. “Your name is Alora Truman, you are 19 and born out of the US. You randomly started appearing in the news headlines shortly after the beginning of the school year. Your quirk is Dream control, it allows you to get into the mind of anyone you want, allowing you to see their thoughts as well as control them. You can also tell the future. Your hero name is Dream Catcher, originating from your name which means faith in my dream.” The boy continued to stammer about useless facts even Alora had forgotten about. “ Thank you Deku, I guess there is a lot of information on me after coming to Japan, how about I tell you a story about this… girl I met in America. She is the reason I am a hero today. Her name is Jenny, and she was cursed with a deaging quirk.” The room fell silent, ready to listen to whatever Alora had to tell them, she was going to run over her designated time but no one was going to interfere, it seemed… important.

“Everybody has to get older, even Jenny. She's just nineteen, young and naive.” When she started speaking, she sounded as though this story was about more than just a ‘girl’ she met. “ She wants to find a way to be endless. Fight the science, in defiance, and be timeless” This line brought the other heroes truly into what she was saying, it wasn’t rare for quirks to not work how people intended, I mean look at Deku and Eri. Yet, this seemed almost villainy. “Silly little girl who tried to live forever. Gave away her soul to buy a bit of pleasure, oh the bitter pleasure.” She was almost talking in riddles, her words were clear yet there was a message hidden within each word. “Wicked little boy who tried to steal her treasure, for the bitter pleasure. Now they're cursed forever.” Her head was now tilted to the ground as she continued to speak, yet… true to her character, there was still a smile on her face. All Might would have loved to meet her, yet she is rarely seen in public.

Her words were no longer riddles, it was like talking to a child. Trying to explain things in a simpler manner while not saying too much to scare them. “And if you could see the look in her eyes. You know the term a wolf in sheep's clothing? Well, the wolf wore the sheep. As a perfect disguise” Nursery rhymes, everytime Alora was beginning to make sense she would throw something else into the mix. “She can't believe that she fell for his lies. He promised forever, but she never knew the price.” The entire class was confused, and I bet that if Alora was to look back, the pro heros were just as confused. Yet, no one had the confidence to question, almost no one. There was one hand raised out of the 20 students that sat before her. “Yes Sero?” The hero in training cellophane wasn’t one to participate in class, but I guess this also wasn’t a normal class. “He promised forever? What does that mean?” She hesitated for a moment, and during that period the residential idiot of class 1-A spoke up. “But how would she not know the price” Kaminari wasn’t trying to be rude but a lot just wasn’t making sense. “Don’t be rude, Kaminari. Continue Ms. Truman.” The class president spoke loudly and swiftly to not disturb the class for too long. His politeness made her reminisce to a simpler time, “No need for the prefix Iida, I know Tensei, Just call me Alora.” She lifted her head slightly so the class could see just how sincere her smile was. “But here, I’ll re-explain. He promised forever, but I never knew the price.” Her words caught everyone off guard, instead of going into more detail like everyone thought she would, all she did was change the noun… the story was no longer about a girl named Jenny.

With one word change the entire story became about Alora. And this confused everyone.  “Wait… what?” Almost everyone spoke simultaneously, this changed everything they knew.  “You?” How could it be so, she said Jenny… a girl from America… who was nineteen… the pieces were all there, but who would think to connect the dots.  “As I got a little bit older. Look at Jenny, now I’m ninety. Still look nineteen” It was physically impossible, it should be… but with today’s age and the development of quirks… you never know. Yet again, she isn’t from this day and age, so just what is her quirk… or quirks. “And all I know to do is surviving, staying alive and now I’m crying. 'Cause I’m not dying” Alora took out a hidden knife and slashed her throat, all the students closed their eyes, afraid to see the now dead hero sitting on their classroom floor. “You can open your eyes.” To their surprise the hero still sat on the floor, no blood, no wound, but the knife still present in her hand.

Another failed attempt at suicide, she knew it wouldn’t work, but she was hopeful anyway. Alora’s voice lowered, she was less talking to the class and more talking to herself… wondering just where everything went wrong.“Silly little girl who tried to live forever.” Somehow the story still managed to amaze not only a few of the members of 1-A, but a few teachers as well. “But how? It’s impossible.” The winged hero, Hawks, asked his best friend silently, to no reply he stopped asking… at least out loud. “Gave away my soul to buy a bit of pleasure. Wicked little boy who tried to steal my treasure, for bitter pleasure. Now we're cursed forever, cursed together” Tears started streaming down the hero's face, the streaks could be seen coming from under her glasses. “And if you could see the look in my eyes. The wolf wore the sheep as a perfect disguise. And I can't believe that I fell for his lies.” Alora hadn’t had a true friend in over 70 years… too afraid, they would die in the end… so why grieve. This made her life easier, but it also made it very lonely.

Her next action was unintentional, she continued to repeat the line again and again. Each time lower than the last, drowning out her own voice like a microphone. “He promised forever, but I never knew the price. He promised forever, but I never knew the price. He promised forever, but I never knew the price.” She was replaying the incident over… and over… and over… and over again to see that if she wasn’t so naive then she wouldn’t have ended up in this mess.

“I lost my life because of men like Endeavor. Men that want all the power for themselves, why? Because they can. He is going to come up here and give this big speech about how he was born for greatness. The day his quirk manifested he knew what he ‘had’ to do. And Todoroki… I am so sorry. I saw your past and your future, well… I saw all of yours. And I will say that you will all become amazing heroes.” With this Alora took off her glasses, revealing that she had three eyes. “This… is what I am. And you should never be afraid to show people that you are strong because of what makes you different. Your scars, your bark, your blind trust.” Tears continued to roll down her cheeks as she addressed the future heroes.

The hero didn’t stand up, but her tone was enough to know that she was serious. “Izuku Midoriya. Front and center.” The shy boy was hesitant to stand up, it’s not like the girl could punish him but there was something terrifying about this woman. It could be the story, because now there was no telling if the information on her was true or false. The boy was now standing in front of the not so young hero, terror in his eyes. “Let me see your notebook, the one Bakugou destroyed.” Her voice was calm and soothing, she wasn’t demanding… yet with that tone you couldn’t come up with a reason to reject her anyway. So it didn’t take long for him to go back to his seat and grab the burnt notebook from the inside of his desk. “Um.. H-here Ms.” He reached out the notebook directly in front of her face because of the awkward angle. As she flipped through the pages, she could see the short descriptions of his middle school classmates. Yet, as she flipped through they got less and less descriptive. Until she turned to the page about heroes, the first one was Kami Woods and it went all the way to Aizawa. The information included not only their weaknesses, but ways to make them stronger as well. What shocked her was the last pages of the book, it was all information on her. The pages included different questions and this put an honest smile on her face. All she could do was look at the boy, and laugh. “It’s funny, if you took a different road on that day. You would have run right into Shigaraki, your future could have been very different.” She spoke slowly as she stood up, now towering over the small boy. She placed a chaste kiss on his forehead, showing the boy not only her past but also the information he had incorrect about other heroes. All the boy could do was be amazed, there were 24 other people in the room yet she chose to tell him. “I’ll let someone else go, but if any of you ever need anything. My agency is always open to students.” With that the hero not only left the room but the school as well.

Deku waited to hear something on Alora, but she wasn’t a spotlight hero so it was rare. But with the increasing amount of villains on the street, even the heroes in the shadows were receiving their 15 minutes of fame from the media. Yet, it was almost as though she disappeared. And she had, after seeing class 1-A’s past, she had been reunited with the man that ruined her life, Kai Chesaki.

Masterlist

[joemuggs]

Old is the New New

Not really. But the question of how and whether innovation happens in the digital age is a perennial one. I remember a drunken New Year’s Eve conversation a decade or more ago with a friend complaining that there was never going to be another summer of love or punk or acid house revolution, and me saying we’re too ready to pre-empt that in the UK now, but subcultural things like that could very well happen in places like Kinshasa or Kuala Lumpur or Kiev... and indeed music is a part of major cultural shifts around the world. 

Listening to the We Out Here compilation really got me going this year though. It’s so vivid and of the now, without having any of the high-tech signifiers that we of the post-rave generations have come to recognise as representing newness. But in the bodily movements of the players are encoded London life 2018, just as much as they are in drill MCs’ voices or whatever deconstructed club beat patterns are working for people right now. Though that perhaps only makes sense if you understand the soul-jazz continuum as it is woven through London music. Not that you NEED to, mind, because the music operates on an instant, pleasure-principle level too. My full review I wrote for the Wire is above... 

We Out Here by We Out Here

...but that review in turn then set off a few tangents, which became a Twitter thread, which I have tidied up as follows:

A short rant on people who use "innovation" as their primary yardstick for judging music. 

If you do this, you are judging music first of all as A Cultural Phenomenon - an abstraction - and sidelining both the sound itself and what it is doing for the real people who love it. If people still love to dance to / make drum'n'bass 20 years on, or deep house 30 years on, or jazz-funk 40 years on, or garage rock 50 years on, or R&B 60 years on, or whatever, and your first response is to accuse them of lack of inspiration, you've gone wrong somewhere. We can't always be in a Cambrian Explosion period like 70s NYC or 90s UK where globally important musical species are created seemingly willy-nilly. Comparing the normal pace of innovation to those explosive times is foolishness. And worse, it denies lasting value to music.

I've been thinking of this wrt the current buzz of what you might call "post-Plastic People jazz" - music which doesn't sound overtly new, but is still vivid with value in the here and now. Thing is, there's always been top parties where you could dance to jazz if you looked. And whether it was 70s, 80s, 90s, 00s, 10s, that music had the same instant value in the heat of a club, both for its direct effect on the body and from the fact that it tended to attract some of the most diverse crowds: something that always leads to a better party. Does it lose value over the decades, just because it's not the first time it's being played in that style? Christ no. Does sex become less good because you've done it a few times?

The motives of ppl who insist that newer ≡ better are highly suspect & usually proprietorial.

This doesn't mean things don't change. The concept of "timelessness" is metaphysical and equally suspect. OBVIOUSLY dancing to drum'n'bass at 4am in 2018 is different to 1998. But when the beat drops there's real continuity of physical/emotional/social experience. All of this is no shade on innovation, either! Indeed it's rly the "innovation is dead" argument that diminishes real & amazing developments. From Chino Amobi and Elysia Crampton to mainstream hip hop over the last decade to any number of 'developing world' sounds, it's rife. Innovation is vital, we celebrate it, we seek it out. But to use it as your main measure of social and aesthetic value is bullshit.

"Oh nice house you designed and built with your own hands there... BUT DID YOU INVENT THE CONCEPT OF HOUSES, HMMM??"

Aside from sidelining the value of craft, folk art etc in favour of a vision of "inventiveness" that is always tied up in a tangle of sketchy ideas about cultural superiority, it just suggests you're more wrapped up in your own valuations than in the thing you're evaluating. And with huge irony it's often nostalgia-based: people want to see the same kind of innovation that blew them away when they were first launching out on their own voyage of discovery. It's quite egotistical in these cases, it's centring ideas of progress around your own tastes. Tangentially, there’s probably a whole PhD thesis on compering the theory bro’s modernism with the tech bro’s disruption. But more generally, this desperation to repeat a particular type of innovation v often seems like attempt to isolate "modernism" or "innovation" as an essential quality divorced from historical context. And essentialism and ahistoricalism are bad.

NONE of this is to say that retroism, revival, tradition etc etc are worthwhile qualities in and of them selves, of course. You still have to make aesthetic and cultural judgements yourself about what you're hearing and how it's consumed! Being familiar or traditional in itself doesn't make anything good, any more than it makes it bad.

Here’s another thing. Old things can still smash preconceptions. If you’re so jaded you think Sun Ra or Kate Bush or The Butthole Surfers or Coki don’t have something new to say to you, let alone a 15 yr old hearing them for the first time, I feel for you. These things, heard in the right light, can be as modernist as they ever were.

A tangent, on the job of music critics, and how we value the music of the past:

I think we all to one degree or another internalise the notion that popular music is aesthetically "cheap" because of the illusion of infinite availability, as compared to art or "art music". If you watch art/history on BBC4 you see Andrew Graham Dixon or Janina Ramirez waxing lyrical about the qualities of the pieces of art themselves, as expressions of their time. In BBC4 pop music history – unless it's one of those very specialist musicological things with Howard Goodall – it very much tends to be biographical and social history above all else. Can't help feeling that's because there's a reverence for the artworks, that comes from not everyone being able to go to Florence or New York or whatever and see them in the flesh - but everyone can hear "Purple Haze" or "Strings of Life" any time they want, right?

And to my original point about modernism vs retro, I suspect that adds to a cultural forgetting of how radical, say, "Purple Haze" not only was, but STILL IS. Isn't there a value in talking about it not in a Classic Rock way, not in a cultural history way, but in the way we'd talk about a Picasso? "Purple Haze"/"Strings of Life" perhaps are not good examples actually, because they DO at least get the historical reverence treatment on occasion (though this, too, is more based on historical context than aesthetic antalysis). There's thousands upon thousands more records that - if criticism is going to have any purpose - deserve to be looked at, over and over, AS ARTWORKS.

Especially DJing for Big Fish Little Fish parties I listen to & play a lot of what might be called cheesy dance classics, and I continually listen to them closely as a result. The diff between listening hard to Music Sounds Better With You or the Hardfloor mix of Yeke Yeke and just HEARING them as background in a bar or on the radio is like the difference between seeing a Miró or Warhol full sized and up close, and seeing a postcard of one. And actually those records are as great as works of human intellect and instinct as most Great Gallery Art. When you are up close to - in fact INSIDE - those records as they were built to be heard, their sense of balance, scale contrast, movement, balanced chaos/control, etc etc etc is up there with a Kandinsky or Braque. Obviously Capitalism doesn't value it as such, mind... And I think we (critics) unconsciously undervalue that too. So we talk about the past as movements, moments of cultural significance, but all too rarely about how the patterns and tics and structures of X record embody that and what power they still have now. People often talk of the job of critics as just being either explainers, enthusers, conceptualists or a glorified recommendation algorithm. But if the WRITING part of writing about music is ever to have any value, then what about just discussing and bearing witness?

All of which brings us back to the thing about fetishising innovation. We live in a world where thousands or more of people globally are hearing Nu Groove reissues, or rediscovered tapes from Benin, or some twisted Catalan synthpop record from 1981, FOR THE FIRST TIME. While at the same time, in mainstream and underground, soundcloud rapper and Elysia Crampton records are startling and scaring with newness. And elsewhere people – let's take the 100% Silk label or Dekmantel in Amsterdam as prime examples – are maintaining past sounds as living folk traditions. When you hear a set of Robert Hood type minimal techno, even if you don't share his spiritual beliefs and sense of the eternal, you can certainly feel it as being several steps away from the microhistorical cycles of hype. Because of course devotional or ecstatic music is consistently resistant to - or doesn't need - innovation. A shaman chanting in Uruguay, Sufi dancers in Pashtun country, a choir in Hereford Cathedral, Niyabinghi drummers - what do THEY care for the Shock of the New? But from the global 'old' music forms to the crate diggers' early house compilations to the super innovative post-Arca electronicisits, all of these things ARE our present. It's an extraordinary musical-historical moment to be part of. Scary, unpredictable, best of times / worst of times, etc but fucking extraordinary - including the presence of the past, whether unearthed or transmitted through living tradition. We should bear witness to that!