#does he not hear the mess coming from the clarinet section | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dontletthishappentoyou · 4 years

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Me: The time I spend thinking about a thing should probably correspond at least somewhat to how important that thing is. Also Me: I was listening to the ending credits to Hamtaro, and noticed something odd about the harmonies in the first section. For the majority of the song, it’s just in regular old F major. Lots of F major chords, a bunch of B flat and C chords (IV and V) as well, looking like the most standard thing you could find. However, the intro/outro is a little bit odd. First of all, it’s a little bit odd that it’s an intro and outro. The song follows a weirdly symmetrical ABCBA form, where the B theme only has lyrics the second time for some reason. It flows well and sounds natural, but it’s not a common form and I can’t think of any other examples. In the middle section, the C and B, I remember interpreting the lyrics to be hinting at some interesting music-oriented magic system. “Sing this secret spell” and “Let’s make a wish // Make it come true // Singing along with us is all you do” just makes it sound like there’s some sort of incantation that requires a melody to be preperly performed. It felt like the writers had an idea for some much more interesting fantasy series, but then 9/11 happened and they decided to just make a thing about hamsters instead to keep things extra light for a few years, but the lyricist had already written some gold for that other series, so he threw it in the Hamtaro song so it wouldn’t go to waste. I did a bit of research and cannot confirm that that’s not what happened. I did discover that the lyrics to one of the Hamtaro theme songs were adjusted recently in Thailand. They’re protesting their government, and the protestors are singing the Hamtaro intro theme, comparing the government to greedy hamsters, hungry for tax money. So if you hear a familiar melody in Thailand and there are people walking around with violently altered Hamtaro plushies, that’s why. Anyway, the A section. That’s where the music gets interesting. The melody definitely establishes F minor. But! When the phrase is repeated, it’s harmonized, which is a super common thing, but the harmony has a quirk. See here’s the melody, clearly in F minor:

And here is what I would say is the most natural harmony. Since the melody is in F minor, the harmony also stays in F minor. Right? That would make sense; that would sound normal.

But no! We get this weird thing. I realize it’s just off by one note, but that note is the third of the scale, the thing that establishes whether it’s in major or minor, which shows up here going directly against what was just established.

So yea, that bugged me a bit and I couldn’t figure out how to analyze it, or if there’s anything similar that follows the same pattern. You have things like the epic theme from Lord of the Rings. At first I was thinking that it was doing something similar, where the melody is in minor and the harmony is in major and the contrast makes a kind of epic heroic kind of feel that you also find a little bit of in the Zelda main theme.

So I listened loudly with headphones and there’s just not enough harmony for that to be a valid interpretation. It’s literally just those two vocal lines, and the bass is playing a constant F drone in the background with the Latin American percussion that I never thought sounded out of place for some reason. The interpretation I ended up settling on was that it’s a good example of a kind of polytonality uncommon before the 1900s in classical music. By that, I mean the melody is harmonized by an exact copy of the melody, moved upward. So instead of having a harmony that’s also in F minor but higher, we have a harmony that’s just in A minor, sung at the same time. Here’s an example in Bartok’s Concerto for Orchestra, where the oboes are doing the same thing, playing the same melody transposed a minor third apart.

The reason this works is because of a thing called Tonal Fusion. Every sound has one wave frequency that really stands out, called the fundamental, and then a ton of usually quieter ones above it. The sound of static will just have a ton of random noise at all frequencies, and noisy things like snare drums and the sound of the letter F will be similar, and every sound has a distinct pattern of pitches. A flute will be basically just that one tone with some quiet ones above it, a clarinet will have the fundamental and well known series of overtones that are closer to the same volume, but all pretty well in-tune. The problem shows up when we realize that if the clarinet is playing tons of distinct notes, and someone shouting “Fffffff!!!” makes a ton of distinct notes, why does it sound like exactly two sources of sound, rather than just one weird object, or thousands of individual objects? Our brains do tonal fusion, assuming that things moving in the same way are coming from the same object. If all of the notes above the fundamental frequency of the clarinetty sound are all moving together in perfect unison, we’ll hear it as a single object. So what Bartok is doing up there, is he’s making a new instrument. He’s taking the sound of an oboe, with it’s unique pattern of pitches above its fundamental, and he’s adding another oboe slightly above it, and when they move perfectly together, it messes with our brains and we don’t know whether to hear it as a single object or two. They tonally fuse. That’s kind of what is going on in Hamtaro as well. The melody and the harmony sort of tonally fuse together. The theme was written around the year 2000, and especially if you listen to the intro theme song, they are really playing with music production techniques, because that was what was cool at the time. This is especially noticable if you listen to the French version of the Hamtaro intro. The weird tonal fusion thing that’s happening here creates an effect very similar to things you can do as a music producer, messing with equalizers and vocoding. The fact that the vocals do this naturally is likely a result of the songwriters feeling that this is a natural way for the song to go because of the effects they’ve been experimenting with, since it seems pretty unlikely that they were inspired by Bartok, Ravel, or Holst to use this style of polytonality. I always find it fascinating when an artform is influenced by technology that was used to replace some elements of that artform. Painters practicing photorealism, animators replicating CG motions by hand, and this is definitely a good example. It’s possible that the harmony is another take pitch shifted up a major third, but it doesn’t sound pitch shifted. Instead it sounds like someone’s ear has been trained in a style influenced by developments in music production technology, converging on techniques that composers worked on a hundred years before to try to make new and inventive sounds. When we’re listening casually as kids it’s a completely different experience. I remember my synesthesia being way more intense before I shifted to whatever part of my brain listens analytically. This song was just fun, colors, and way too cheesy to admit that I enjoy as much as I do, and now it’s different. It’s a nerdy kind of fun, which I still really enjoy, and I never would have been able to have epiphanies about it years ago, but I could have learned to. I was capable of both ways of listening. Now I’m only capable of how I listen now, and it makes me feel like doors have closed forever, and I’m left with just the memory of what was behind some doors that I was very fond of. But honestly, I appreciate those memories immensely, and looking into this way more deeply just builds contrast that helps the happy joyful years of hearing that stand out better to me. It’s not a white on black where there was a purely happy experience superimposed against my dark, adult experience; it’s more blue on orange. It’s extremely different, but there aren’t many better ways to really bring out the blue than having the orange to contrast it. I hope that the overanalysis of fond memories can always just help me appreciate the pleasant tiny moments of the past. Anyway, that’s about all I have to say about the A naturals in the Hamtaro outro theme.

#hamtaro #music theory #mormon life

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selfcallednowhere · 5 years

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March 6, 2018, Eugene, OR

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This was my first time going to a show at this venue, which is to be expected since it was my first time being in Eugene at all. It was all right--smallish, which can be nice.

The initial banter when they first came on stage was also about the venue. Flans said that because they've been touring for 30+ years he always has trepidation when saying they've never played somewhere before, but he was pretty sure they'd never played here before. He said they had played in Eugene before, but the last time they did they were touring in an Econoline van. He said they did a college show and were "doing eightballs of cocaine and heroin."

They once again opened with "Pencil Rain," followed by "I Palindrome I," both of which were cool to see again. Then John picked up the contra-alto clarinet, and Flans said they wanted to remind people that the show was going to be featuring it. John: "'Remind' is a strong word. Notify." Then Flans informed us that it was not the contra-alto clarinet that could be seen on signs put up by the local high school saying one was missing.

JF: We don't even know that custodian! JL: I did take one of the pull-tabs with the phone number to say that I don't know where it went.

Then Flans said the thing again about how they'd be playing two sets, and we should treat them like an opener and hold our applause till the second set. "Talk to your friends about how we're like They Might Be Giants but not as good."

Then he said the thing he also keeps saying that makes me so sad about how they'd be playing new songs and we should just pretend we like them. Then he said Joe Franklin had told them "It's all about sincerity, and if you can fake that, you can do anything." Then they played "All Time What" and then "Damn Good Times" (both fantastic as per usual).

Then they were starting to play "James K. Polk," and John was talking during the intro. He said that on the album he mispronounced the name of this state. "But I'm here to make amends. That's why we're here." He pronounced it correctly as he sang (like he normally does, so it was only notable because of him calling attention to it) and people cheered. Afterwards Flans said, "Well played. They were buying it." John said again that he said it wrong on the album, and then said it the incorrect way, and people booed. "Yes, let's let the dirty laundry air." Flans said that when people ask them how to get to Houston St. (pronouncing it like the name of my hometown and not the name of the street in Manhattan) they just tell them where it is, and John said they give them directions to Texas. Then Flans said that's a New York joke that doesn't really work here.

Flans asked John how his day was, and he said he went to a coffee shop that he couldn't remember the name of. Flans said he went to a bagel shop where the wifi password was "bagelbagelbagel," and John said he would've guessed only two "bagel"s. Then Flans said he'd tried to go to some shoe store called Shoeaholic but he got there just as they were closing, and that he'd wanted to beg them to let him in by telling them "I've hit my rock bottom." John: "I think you've bought enough shoes, John Flansburgh."

Then Flans said they were about to play two songs from their new album, and that before the show they'd been "doing shots of truth serum" and so he could tell us that it's "so much better than it has to be." Then he said this is their 20th album, and when they were making their 18th they'd looked at the list of other bands' 18th albums on Wikipedia and found a surprising number of good ones, but he thinks this one stand alone as the only quality 20th album.

The two new songs they played were "Mrs. Bluebeard" and "I Left My Body," both of which were great (I suppose at this point I don't even need to note the fact that John did mess up the lyrics on the former though).

After "Your Racist Friend," Flans said that he wants to "dedicate my performance to the people standing directly next to my amp. I have a lot of dreams, and one of my dreams is to never have to stand directly next to my amp. I don't want to leave a permanent memory on your left ear. And I noticed you were having a conversation, which seems impossible. I'm making a dedication to long-term hearing loss."

Then Flans was introducing Curt, who was standing at the back of the stage. John said it makes him feel self-conscious when people are standing behind him, cos it feels like they're looking at his hands as he plays his keyboard. "Am I folding my thumb under the right way? Is my total ignorance of technique that obvious? The answer is yes." (Awwwww John, I'm sure you're fine darling!)

Next they played "Turn Around," YES YES YES. There was some quality JL spazziness adding to the usual amazingness of the song.

Next they did "Spy." During the part where they were just playing the song normally (before the improv section I mean) John kept lifting one arm up into the air after he played something--I'm not really sure why, but it was cool. He played the "Here Comes Santa Claus" sample during the improv part when he was conducting again.

Afterwards, Flans was complimenting how well we did the part of the song where he directed us to cheer. "That was nimble. Sometimes it's like directing a dinosaur in hospice. That was delicious."

Flans introduced "When the Lights Come On" by saying it's "relentless," which is a good description. He also reminded us that "Dan Miller's fingers never leave his hands." The song was rockin' and terrific as usual.

Afterwards, people were smoking pot (annoying me as it always does, not because I have any problem with pot in itself but I just hate the smell). Flans: "The pot smell begins. And once the pot smell begins it will never end." He said it smelled like cheap pot, and "this is the HiFi. There are standards." Then he told that one story that's immortalized in the one TMBG Unlimited recording, about how there was a time when they kept smelling cheap pot at their shows but then one member of their crew left and they suddenly stopped smelling it.

Then he said that it reminded him of the next song, and he wanted John to introduce it. He asked John something about making a Laugh-In reference and John said he didn't want to. Then he said that they're older than the rest of the band and they've gotten into fights with them about whether Laugh-In was funny, and that it's like being a parent and defending something you don't really believe. Flans said that it was like saying George W. Bush wasn't really that bad, and that he was, it was just easy to forget, like a scar on your hand is easy to forget. Then John said that he did remember the Laugh-In reference he was supposed to make. Flans: "Jesus christ! Show business professional!" John said he was just confused from all the pot smoke, and he was struggling to find oxygen molecules. Then he said the next song was from a TV show that was on before Laugh-In. The song was "The Mesopotamians" (as expected, since I'd seen him do this joke before).

Before they played "This Microphone," Flans was talking about the percussion thing Marty plays during it that looks like an orange. He said that it was a real orange, and Marty had lanced it with a drumstick and replaced the pulp with magic beads.

Afterwards Flans said that for being a sold-out show in a small venue it was surprisingly comfortable, and that usually at this point in such a show they were puddles on the floor begging for the A/C. John said some people want to see that, and Flans said they were trying to change their reputation of just being puddles.

They once again closed out the first set with "Hey, Mr. DJ, I Thought You Said We Had a Deal" into "Birdhouse in Your Soul." TOO MUCH ROCKIN'. I CAN'T HANDLE IT. No seriously it is an amazing way for them to end the set, but I'm not kidding about all the excited boppin' around and really really enthusiastic singing along I can't stop myself from doing on both those songs having an intense physical effect on me. I guess I should just be grateful I then got the whole between-sets break to recover.

So then after the break they came back for the Quiet Storm, opening with the contra-alto version of "Older" as per usual. Afterwards, Flans said that even though this was an acoustic set Marty had "opted in with the limitless noise potential of the electronic drums." Then he made him play whatever that bit of that Phil Collins song he keeps making him play is.

After that they played "I Like Fun," then Flans started to introduce "Tippecanoe and Tyler Too." He said the hostility of the song is "comforting," because it means people being that way now isn't new, and that things suck right now, but they will get better.

Before "Shoehorn with Teeth," Flans said that Marty was "abandoning his electronic drums manifesto of the last five minutes and returning to his vaudeville roots." He also said that the bell Marty was playing came from the same high school that had put up the signs for the missing contra-alto clarinet.

Then something really funny happened. Flans said John should move over cos he wasn't in the light enough (which he wasn't). John said it's hard to light him when he has his accordion on, because it creates shadows on him. Flans: "The accordion is like Dracula." Then some girl (not me, I swear!) yelled "IT'S SEXY" and John said "No it isn't," which was the part that amused the hell out of me because of course he was DEAD WRONG. Then he said "But thank you for saying that" but did not exactly seem sincere--I think he was rather uncomfortable honestly so that made me feel bad for him, but yeh I was still really amused. But I did also have this feeling of wishing it hadn't happened at a show I was at because I figured anyone who knew about it and knew I was there would figure it was me and I would never do that (I had the same feeling a time I was at a different show and some girl threw her bra at him).

So then they played "A Self Called Nowhere" and y'know, the usual--really really intense and emotional for me, the best part of the show, etc etc.

Flans introduced "How Can I Sing Like a Girl?" by saying it was "about being in chorus."

Next they did "Istanbul." During the crazy jam part at the end, John spent some time playing (using the word "playing" loosely here) his keyboard with both his fists and also with both his hands entirely vertical.

Flans introduced "Bills, Bills, Bills" by explaining how the AV Club Undercover thing works. He said that they'd given them a list of songs "that should never be recorded or even talked about again." He said they'd first done "Tubthumping" but they weren't going to play that tonight. "It's too exciting. It's too exciting for our crew. It makes them burst into tears." Then he said after that they'd covered a Destiny's Child song, which forced them to grapple with the fact that Destiny's Child is a much more popular band than they are. He said they'd considered becoming a band whose entire act was just performing this one single Destiny's Child cover. Then he said they were going to keep performing this song both cos they'd taken the trouble to memorize it and cos it always spreads joy.

So they played that one and then "Particle Man." Then:

JL: We spent our formative years in the greater Boston area. JF: I don't know if you've ever played lacrosse. I've had lacrosse played at me. JL: You've been played by lacrosse. JF: Lacrosse is like it's the end of days and civilization has broken down, and there's still an organized way of killing people. That's basically what lacrosse is like. JL: That's basically what the greater Boston area is like.

So then they of course played "Wicked Little Critta" [insert swooning over all the video closeups of John's hands on the Kaoss Pad and his keyboard here], then "New York City." Afterwards, some guy yelled "THEY MUST BE GIANTS!" Flans was amused--he repeated it and thanked him for saying it. Then he said that sometimes when shows are ending they're getting ready to leave and they'll hear the owner of the club come over the PA and ask everyone to give another hand for "Ain't They Giants," and they realize he cares less than anyone else there.

They closed the main set with a run of familiar but still always very fun songs: "Number Three," "Twisting," and "Doctor Worm."

When they came back for the first encore, John said they'd come back sooner than it had taken them this time. Then he said that next they were going to play a quiet song, and it was "inappropriate because everyone is all hopped up." The song they played was "Dead," which I was most certainly not going to complain about seeing, quiet or not!

I was hoping they were going to play "Don't Let's Start" next since that was the second encore song for almost all the shows I'd seen so far, but instead it was "Fingertips," which I know is always a big hit live, I've just seen it many, many more times than I've seen "Don't Let's Start" so yeh not as exciting for me at this point.

They closed the show with "The Guitar," which is definitely one of the all-time best show closers!

So yeh great show overall, and I had some personal excitement afterwards too--Marty gave me a setlist!!! This was my first time managing to snag one in an exceptionally long time. I also managed to get the show poster that had been hanging in the venue's front window, which also rarely happens and featured one of the new promo pictures I'm quite fond of, so that was also thrilling!

The all-important JL wardrobe report: For the first set he was wearing the same black long-sleeved shirt he wore the previous two nights (he always wears the same things over and over, but the same shirt three nights in a row is a bit much even for him), and then for the second set he was wearing that red-and-blue stripey t-shirt he really loves, which made me happy because I really love it too and think it looks fantastic on him.

#tmbg #show reviews

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prettylittlesestras · 6 years

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i hear your heart beat to the beat of the drum

Beca lets out a sigh of relief as she hears the final bell of the day ring. She ambles through the halls of Barden High aimlessly, absentmindedly kicking a balled up piece of paper down the hall as music blares through the speakers in her headphones, killing time before reporting to the auditorium at 3:30. She doesn’t want to be late, but there’s certainly no need in being 25 minutes early.

She mosies toward her locker, stopping along the way to buy a bag of nacho cheese Doritos from the vending machine. She snacks on the chips as she walks and finds a lukewarm powerade in the bottom of her backpack from lunch a few days prior to wash them down with. She wastes as much time as she can, but she eventually makes her way to the band room. Beca gathers her things and heads over to the auditorium.

Today was the first ever combined after-school practice with the band and chorus. It had been decided that the band and chorus would now be having combined concerts, so one month before each concert, they were to begin practicing together three days a week.

Beca wasn’t really worried. She’d been drumming on pots and pans since she was old enough to hold a spoon, and she’d been using actual drums and drumsticks since she joined the band her sixth grade year. Drumming had always come easy to Beca; her hands moved swiftly and smoothly as she crafted sophisticated beats without much more than a simple thought.

She arrives at the auditorium a few minutes ahead of most people and finds that her concert toms have already been set up. Lucky for her, all of the percussion instruments get set up by the stage crew, so she doesn’t have to worry about lugging around a case of drums that’s almost as big as she is. As she walks up the steps to the stage, she notices that she is one of only four people who have arrived so far. Two clarinet players are sitting side by side, quietly whispering back and forth, and one member of the choir, the first to arrive, is organizing his sheet music.

Somewhere offstage, she hears someone yelling in a loud whisper, disrupting the quiet atmosphere onstage. She turns and sees a tall boy dressed in a full Barden High soccer uniform whisper-yelling at someone hidden behind a column that’s obscuring her view. She can tell, even by just the side of his face, that the guy is the ever-popular Tom Bailey. He’s the “Mr. Wonderful” of Barden High and captain of the soccer team even though he’s only a junior. He is seemingly loved by everyone, but something about him rubs Beca the wrong way.

What a dick, Beca thinks as she turns and starts making sure her drums are secure and everything is ready to go for practice. She hears the boy storm off, his cleats clomping across the stage floor and down the stairs. She hears the deep breath of someone slightly offstage and turns to see none other than Chloe Beale. So that’s who he was yelling at, Beca thinks with a slight pang in her stomach.

She knows who Chloe is, but, then again, everyone knows who Chloe is. She’s the type of girl who, despite her popularity, takes the time to greet almost everyone she passes in the hallways and someone who gives personalized, bedazzled birthday cards to the lunch ladies. She’s that girl who is always exuberantly happy no matter the circumstance. Beca had known who Chloe was since third grade recess when she was swinging alone (and quite liked it that way), but Chloe insisted on swinging with her. She swore that swinging was somehow more fun with someone else beside you. Whether or not that was true, it had left an impression on Beca, just as Tom Bailey had left an impression on her just now. She didn’t know what he could have been yelling about, but she did know for certain that someone as sweet as Chloe Beale didn’t deserve a scolding that harsh.

Practice soon begins, and to call it a mess is an understatement. The altos were struggling to hit their notes, and it sounded like the flute section was playing from an entirely different piece of music. Beca looked up every now and then to check on Chloe and make sure she was okay. She’s not normally the type of person to be aware of other people’s emotions, or even care about them for that matter, but she felt compelled to make sure that Chloe was okay after what she had witnessed before practice.

She looks up near the end of practice to check on Chloe, and, strangely enough, Chloe is looking right back at her. Beca gives her a quick smile, and, feeling caught, she decides to keep her eyes on her drums for the rest of practice. Even without looking at her, Beca hears Chloe singing. Her voice isn’t hard to pick out; it’s easily the most beautiful voice in the entire choir, and, in that moment, she can’t remember ever hearing someone sing so well.

The rest of the practice crawls by slowly, the only bright spot being when the bass drum player, Ashley, tries to hit her drum, but her mallet flies out of her hand, skitters across the floor, and drops off of the front of the stage. Beca lets out a laugh under her breath, and that bit of comedic relief is enough to sustain her through the rest of the practice.

The next two practices are uneventful. The altos are seemingly improving, and they actually start to blend well with the rest of the choir, but the flute section seems to be beyond reproach. Beca rolls her eyes at the dramatics of the section leader as she berates them in the middle of practice and calls for 6 A.M. practices every day for the next week (but to be honest they could use the practice).

Throughout the practices, Beca gets glimpses of Chloe Beale staring at her. Why does she keep looking at me? Beca asks herself. I wonder if I have something in my teeth.

At the first available pause in the practice, Beca smiles into the chrome on her drum set, but her teeth are free of debris. Beca tries to keep her eyes off of Chloe, but, having no self control, she looks over at Chloe in a moment of weakness and finds her looking right back at her. They make eye contact for longer than two people who are practically strangers typically do. Her hands falter, and her rhythm becomes so off that the band director silences everyone and has them start again at the top of the page. Beca looks back at Chloe, embarrassed, and her face turns beet red when she sees Chloe look away and giggle. She wants to crawl into a hole and never come out.

Practice ends quickly without another hitch, and Beca desperately hopes everyone has forgotten about her mistake now that practice is over. She tries to tell herself that she doesn't care what any of these band nerds think, but the embarrassment of messing up the entire band and chorus is overpowering her usual apathetic attitude.

As she gathers her things, she wastes time so she doesn’t have to walk out in the large crowd and make pointless conversation or relive that shitshow of a practice. She stuffs her drumsticks into a small bag, and, as she gathers her backpack and other things from the floor, she looks up to see Chloe Beale approaching. I cannot deal with Miss Sunshine and Rainbows after a practice like that, she thinks as Chloe advances toward her.

“How are you so good at drumming?” Chloe asks innocently with a smile so bright it could blind a person if they looked directly at it.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Beca laughed, “I screwed up the entire band when I messed up.”

“Okay, fair enough. But it was only because I distracted you. I didn’t mean to stare, but sometimes I look over at you, and I just get mesmerized by how good you are. I’ve never seen anything like it,” she says with a soft smile and a far-off look in her eyes as if she is replaying Beca’s drumming in her head. She snaps back into reality, and her smile intensifies.

A slight blush brushes across Beca’s cheeks. “Thanks, but, I mean, I’m really nothing special. I promise. Just your average high school drummer, I guess.” Beca looks at the ground as she speaks, embarrassed to have the conversation focused on her.

“I’d say you’re much more than that,” Chloe adds with a wink.

Beca smiles, shakes her head, and takes a few steps toward the edge of the stage as she hoists her backpack onto her back. Chloe follows her step for step, and the two walk down the steps and out of the auditorium together.

They exit the auditorium and take no more than five steps before they see two boys coming through the doors at the other end of the hallway.

“Shit!” Chloe whispers as she grabs Beca’s hand and the two girls dart into the computer lab on the left side of the hall.

“Be really quiet. Sorry, I’ll explain in a minute.” Chloe whispers.

Beca looks down at her hand, her fingers still wrapped in Chloe’s. Chloe sees Beca look down by the dim light of the computers and immediately releases her hand, the blush on Chloe’s cheeks undetectable in the dark room. Chloe peeks out the window and sees the two boys walk past, never noticing the girls behind the door.

“Okay good. They’re gone,” Chloe says with a relieved look on her face.

“Care to explain what that was about?” Beca asks, sitting on the edge of a computer table.

Chloe glances up at the ceiling looking worried. “Okay, well, that was Robby Jordan, and he asked me to get ice cream with him three times last week and again on Monday, and I keep turning him down. I figure it’s better to avoid him than have to go through the embarrassment all over again.” Chloe looks more tense than Beca has ever seen the typically happy-go-lucky girl.

“You know, Beale, you hiding from people in random computer labs might be ruining your sweet-as-sugar reputation,” Beca says with a smirk, joking to lighten Chloe’s mood.

“I know. I really want to be nice to him, but he knows I’m dating Tom,” Chloe continues, somehow looking more worried than before, “I keep trying to be gentle, but Tom found out before practice on Monday, and he was really upset about it. I just don’t want to make him mad. He doesn’t need to be distracted by something stupid going on with me; the soccer team has some really big games coming up. I’d rather just keep my distance from Robby and avoid it all completely.”

The fight Beca witnessed on Monday flashes quickly through her mind, but she decides not to let Chloe know she saw that, not wanting her to embarrass her or have her think she was eavesdropping.

“Dude, no. I was just joking. Robby’s a jerk for putting you in that situation when he knows you have a boyfriend. Don’t worry about him,” She says with an earnest smile, wanting Chloe to know she’s being sincere.

Beca hops off of the table and heads toward the door. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. If I spend much more time at school on a Friday afternoon I’ll probably start breaking out into hives.”

She opens the door and looks both ways to make sure the coast is clear. They walk down the hall in the same direction. “Which way are you going?” Chloe asks when they reach the point where three halls intersect.

“Oh, I’m just heading out the lunchroom door and down Kennesaw. My house isn’t far, so I usually just walk home school.” Beca answered.

“Me too, actually. Lets go!” Chloe says, looking excited to have a partner for her walk home. The two set off out the door and down the street. Chloe asks what Beca thinks must be more than three, maybe four, hundred questions. Beca answers some, but not all of them. She never has been the type of person to talk a lot about herself or tell other people about her life, but somehow talking to Chloe is easy.

“So how’d you become a drummer, anyway?”

Beca pauses, not knowing if she wants to start a potentially long story, but she decides to proceed anyway. “Well, I always drummed around the house with whatever I could get my hands on: spoons, pens, sticks. There was this one time with paint brushes. That one didn’t end well. When I got into sixth grade, my mom signed me up for band. I know she meant well and she wanted me to take a class doing something I would like, but it was probably just as much for the sake of her silverware,” Beca said with a hearty laugh. Chloe laughed along and seemed to be enjoying her story, so she continued. “My dad left right after I started sixth grade. Cash was always tight, but my mom saved up for a year and bought me my very own drum kit for Christmas in seventh grade. It was the best present I could’ve ever gotten, and it made me really fall in love with drumming. I still drum with the band and on my drums at home, but making mixes on my laptop is more my thing now. When I found out about mixing, it took my love for making beats to the next level. I had to save up for a long time, but when I finally had enough money to buy some mixing equipment it changed my life; it made me realize that I want to become a music producer after high school.”

Beca finishes her story and goes quiet, walking in silence and letting Chloe ponder over her words. She feels like she’s been rambling, but she also feels an unusual lightness after telling Chloe something so personal. She can’t put her finger on what exactly made her open up to someone with whom she’d had a total of only two conversations, but it isn’t a terrible feeling. Just different.

They walk and chat until Beca stops on the sidewalk in front of a small cottage-style house with beautiful rows of blue hydrangeas in two flower beds bordering the house.

“This is me,” Beca says very matter-of-factly.

“This is where you live?” Chloe asks in disbelief.

“Um...yes?” Beca says, not knowing what to make of Chloe’s tone.

“I live like two houses behind you! I bet you can see my house from your backyard!” Chloe leaves the sidewalk and walks into the grass and to the backyard. They both look through the single line of trees, and Chloe points to a large house on the next street over. The house is huge and looks over-the-top nice.

“That’s my house! I can’t believe we live so close together and didn’t even know it.” Beca honestly can’t believe it either. She didn’t make it a point to get to know her neighbors, but she did wonder how someone like Chloe Beale could live so close to her and she never know it.

“You could let an entire football team live in that house and still have your own bathroom,” Beca says dryly with wide eyes and raised eyebrows as she looks up at the house, the top of the house visible even above the trees.

“Thanks, but, I mean, it’s really nothing special. I promise. Just your average house, I guess,” Chloe says, playfully mocking Beca’s words from earlier. Chloe flits across the rest of the yard and through the trees toward her house. She shouts over her shoulder, “see you at practice on Monday,” only looking back to wink, and then she’s gone.

Beca flops down onto her bed and lets out a dramatic sigh. It’s been two days since she and Chloe walked home together, and she hasn’t been able to get her off her mind all weekend. The memory of her hand in Chloe’s and the way it made her feel runs through her mind on a loop. She replays their conversation over and over again; she can’t stop thinking about the way Chloe listened to her talk about drumming and mixing, never once interrupting and seeming to enjoy hearing what Beca had to say. She remembers feeling like Chloe asked so many questions, not to fill the dead air, but because she was genuinely interested in her life.

Beca shakes her head and rolls over, trying to rid herself of the feeling she keeps getting as she thinks about how beautiful Chloe looked as the wind blew through her bright red hair or the way Chloe looked back and winked at her.

She gets up and grabs her drumsticks, slamming herself down onto the stool behind her drum set. She starts to drum loudly, trying desperately to drown out the voices in her head telling her to run away from Chloe and every emotion and feeling that surrounds her.

I’ve really gotta stop. I’m being gross. This girl was just being nice to me, and here I am being a full-on mess on a Sunday afternoon. I don’t even know her. And she has a boyfriend! If she was so distraught about Robby Jordan asking her out, I’m sure she would love to find out the that I haven’t been able to get her out of my head after the first conversation we’ve had since the third grade. This is ridiculous.

Beca drums louder and faster until she realizes she’s out of breath and sweating. She apparently can’t keep a steady beat in her current state, but it doesn’t matter; it’s not helping, anyway. Thoughts of Chloe somehow fight through the mind numbing sound of her drumsticks clamoring over the drums and crashing over the cymbals.

Okay. Whatever. I’ve been overthinking all of this all weekend. I’m going to sleep, and when I wake up, I’m not thinking about Chloe anymore. I don’t want anything more than a friendship with her. Maybe not even that. We can go back to being strangers for all I care. She doesn’t need me looking at her the way all the boys at school do; she gets enough of that from them. So she climbs back into bed and shuts her eyes tight, wanting to fall asleep without another thought. She falls asleep quickly even though the clock on her bedside table only reads 8:17pm.

Beca jumps out of sleep when her alarm sounds the next morning, the blaring noise of the alarm shocking her into consciousness. She gets up and heads to the coffee maker, caffeine being the only thing that ever gets her through her first three classes. After getting ready, she heads off to school and arrives just in time. The school day breezes by, and Beca doesn’t think of Chloe at all until practice that afternoon. Beca is distracted by Chloe throughout practice, but it isn’t so bad that she can’t keep her rhythm. She feels Chloe’s eyes on her while she drums, and she can’t contain her smile. After practice, the two walk home together again.

Without realizing it, the two have made an unspoken rule. They walk home together every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday and even on some days when they don’t have practice. As the practices progress, so does their friendship. Chloe tells Beca about her recent troubles with Tom. She tells her that around everyone else, he acts like they have the perfect relationship, but in private, he’s very controlling. He monopolizes her time when he’s not at soccer, and he gets mad if another guy so much as likes one of her pictures on instagram. Chloe tries to hide how he makes her feel, but Beca can see through it.

“You know you don’t have to take that shit, right? That doesn’t sound like a loving relationship to me. It sounds like he’s a jerk. You deserve better than that,” Beca says at a break in Chloe’s story.

“I know, but I really do love him. He hasn’t always been like this. I know he loves me, and I think he’s just being protective,” Chloe says sheepishly. Beca can tell it’s more serious than Chloe lets on, and she thinks Chloe knows it too, but she decides not to push any further, at least for today.

Chloe changes the subject and asks Beca questions about her family. Beca can feel Chloe trying to break down her walls, and she wants to let her in, but after years of reinforcement, she’s hesitant to open up. Even to Chloe. It’s nothing against her. She’s actually the only person Beca has even thought about opening up to in years.Chloe has become Beca’s closest friend since sixth grade when her best friend moved away and her dad left and she shut everyone out. Beca decided way back then to not let anyone get too close so it wouldn’t hurt when they inevitably left. Her only other real friend is Jesse Swanson, but they don’t have the kind of conversations that she and Chloe have. They’re in band together, so they mostly just play drums together, and sometimes Jesse comes over on the weekends to play video games with Beca. Maybe it’s just that she’s a girl or that Chloe is more in tune with her emotions or something, but whatever it is, it’s different. And Beca is actually starting to like it.

The route that the two girls walk home each day changes. They sometimes arrive at Beca’s first. Other times, they go down Chloe’s street first, and Beca walks through the yard of Chloe’s across the street neighbor, a sweet elderly lady named Mrs. Mayfield, to get to her house. On days like today when the weather is nice, they take the long way home and go through the park and walk around the lake. Beca starts to make sure she has quarters every morning before she leaves the house just in case they go to the park because she loves seeing how excited Chloe gets to feed the ducks.

Beca jams a quarter into the old machine and turns the crank to dispense two handfuls of duck food, and they both double over with laughter as they try to contain it in their hands but fail as some of it falls onto the ground. They walk around the pond, feeding the ducks and talking and laughing and enjoying each other’s company. Beca can’t remember the last time she just purely enjoyed someone’s company like she enjoys Chloe’s. She’s content with walking with her and not even talking; just being with her is enough.

When all the ducks swim away with full bellies, they continue on their path home. From the park, they arrive at Chloe’s house first, and she pauses on the sidewalk in front of her house. “Hey, do you want to come in and hang out? We could work on that history project Mr. Whitehead assigned a few weeks ago since it’s due on Monday. You have him for history, right?”

Beca debates on whether or not to go inside with Chloe. She feels nervous to take their friendship from their daily walks home to becoming friends who hang out at each other's houses. She does have that stupid project due on Monday, though, so she agrees, and they head inside.

As the door opens into the kitchen, Beca is greeted with the smell of fresh flowers and the sight of dark cherry hardwood floors and granite countertops. Beca is astounded. Her mom works hard to provide the best home and meet every need that her daughter requires, but none of it could ever compare to this. This is certainly the nicest house Beca’s ever set foot in, but Chloe seems unfazed (which is what you’d expect since she lives in this palace).

She opens up the refrigerator, grabs two sodas, takes a bag of popcorn from the pantry, and places it in the microwave to start popping. She gives Beca her drink, and they stand around waiting on the popcorn to cook. Beca walks around the counter to admire the pictures on the fridge. Some are pictures of Chloe and her brothers, some of the cutest puppy Beca has ever seen, and one particularly adorable photo of Chloe that she can’t help but pick up. She’s hanging upside down on a bar on the swingset which, presumably, used to occupy their backyard. With her bright red hair hanging down almost to the ground and her two front teeth missing, she’s smiling with the biggest smile, and Beca can’t help but smirk and let out a little chuckle. Chloe steps in front of her and snatches the photo from her fingers. “Don’t laugh at me. I was adorable,” Chloe says, feigning anger.

“I’m not laughing at you, Beale. Who wouldn’t smile while looking at that face? Pure cuteness.” Beca says while tapping Chloe on the top of her nose. Did I just do that? That was weird. Who am I? I need to calm down. I can’t let this girl get in my head again.

Chloe smiles and shakes her head, her cheeks turning pink as she walks to the microwave. She grabs the steaming bag of popcorn, dumps it into a bowl, and heads down the hall and up the stairs with Beca following closely behind.

As they enter Chloe’s room, Beca sees a giant king size bed with a fluffy yellow and grey duvet and more pillows than any one person should have on their bed (but of course Chloe would be that person who sleeps with four pillows and uses eight more just for decoration). The room is huge but somehow still cozy. It’s light and bright with yellows and whites which come across as very Chloe.

She crawls onto her bed amongst the pillows, settles in around them, and pats the other side of the bed to motion for Beca to come and sit beside her. The bed is gloriously soft and exceedingly enormous; it’s big enough for the both of them, their laptops and textbooks, the twelve pillows, and the bowl of popcorn between them.

When Beca settles in, she and Chloe snack on the popcorn and work on their history projects. When Beca reaches for a handful of popcorn, her hand brushes Chloe’s hand, and their hands linger there together. She has to cough to stifle the small gasp she lets out when they touch. It’s as if the spark that Beca tried to deny feeling when Chloe held her hand in the computer lab has all of a sudden become a gasoline-fueled fire. Chloe smiles a knowing smile but never looks away from her textbook.

Instead of reading about the War of 1812, Chloe is all Beca can think about. She sits and ponders over how nice it is to have such a great friend. A real friend who wants to hang out with her and is actually interested when she talks about things that no one else in her life ever seemed to care to listen to. And someone who doesn’t bore her to tears when she has to listen to them talk for more than three minutes. She enjoys Chloe’s company and has so quickly come to cherish their friendship.

No. I can’t do this. I won’t. I won’t ruin this friendship and the one good thing I have in my life for some stupid feelings that she would never reciprocate.

So she tries to put it out of her mind. To put Chloe out of her mind. Which was harder than it sounds since she is sitting all of 36 inches away from the girl. She stares blankly at her textbook for about ten minutes, praying she can think of anything other than Chloe and the fact that all she wants to do is lean over and kiss her, but she can’t. So she stands up.

“Oh, I forgot, my mom needs me to go to this thing with her. I’d better get going.” Beca says nervously, already shoving her school supplies into her backpack.

“Are you sure?” Chloe asks with a defeated look on her face. “We’ve barely even gotten started.”

Beca feels a physical pain when she sees the sadness on Chloe’s face, but it doesn’t stop her from going. Leaving was the only thing her dad ever taught her.

“I’ll see you at practice on Friday,” Beca says with a forced smile on her face. She walked down the stairs and out the front door. She tore through Mrs. Mayfield’s yard, not even speaking to the woman who was outside sweeping her porch.

She didn’t stop until she reached her drum set. Drumming had become the way she knew how to deal with her emotions. She grabs her drumsticks and starts pounding the drums with more force than she ever had before. She notices how hard it is for her to see because of how much her eyes are watering (she obviously isn’t crying), but it doesn’t matter; she could play these drums in the dark.

She plays until her body hurts and her neighbor’s dog won’t quit howling. She flings herself down onto her bed since she doesn’t know how else to cope other than sleeping.

This isn’t happening. I can’t have feelings for Chloe Beale. Every boy in school has feelings for her, and it’ll ruin our friendship. What would she even think if she knew that’s how I felt? She’d probably think I’m disgusting.

Beca continues her internal pity party for at least an hour, thoughts running back and forth through her mind. She desperately hopes that sleep will come soon. It does.

It’d been over a week since Beca started distancing herself from Chloe. She skipped practice on Friday and Monday to avoid her completely. Chloe texted Beca asking why she wasn’t there, but Beca dismissed her both times, saying she wasn’t feeling well. After a text from her band director telling her to be at the next practice or he was demoting her from head of the percussion section to triangle player, she decided to go to the Wednesday’s practice. When it was over, she rushed out of the auditorium. She didn’t want Chloe to wait around, so she texted her to say she was making up a test for her Dr. Lee’s biology class, but she just took a different route and headed home.

If I can just keep my distance long enough to get rid of these stupid feelings, we can go back to the way we were, Beca thinks, knowing that ignoring Chloe is the reason she’s been so miserable for the past week.

On Friday, Beca doesn’t have a plan for avoiding Chloe (and if she’s honest she really doesn’t want to), but she decides to wing it and just escape through the back door behind the stage. Beca takes a few steps, and Chloe immediately spots her and calls out to her.

“Beca! Wait up!” Chloe shouts over the crowd of bustling band members in her way. Beca turns and walks toward Chloe, deciding that maybe one walk home won’t hurt. She can’t blow her off for an entire week and not raise Chloe’s suspicions. The two girls breeze through the double doors and exit the auditorium.

Beca notices that Chloe seems off, but she can’t put her finger on what seems to be bothering her.

“Hey, Chlo, is something wro—“ The two stop dead in their tracks, staring at the scene in front of him. The halls were littered with papers. On the floor, taped to the walls, hanging out of lockers. They were everywhere. Chloe bends down to pick one up, and a single tear escapes her eye as she stares down at the photograph.

Beca bolts into action. She gathers every paper she can find, ripping them from the lockers and tearing them off the walls, tears welling up in her eyes. Beca tries, but the damage is done. She rushes back to Chloe’s side.

“It isn’t even me,” Beca hears Chloe say softly as her knees give out. Beca catches her and guides her to the ground, helping her lean back onto the lockers. Beca stares at the pictures with red hot rage. The papers show Chloe’s head poorly photoshopped onto an almost naked body. The photoshop job is one of the worst Beca’s ever seen, but there’s no doubt there’ll be people who believe it’s real.

Beca is fuming, needing to take out her anger on whoever did this. She doesn’t need to know why, she just needs to know who.

“Who did this?” Beca asks sharply, her anger apparent in her voice.

Chloe lets out a sob, and Beca softens, crawling into the place beside Chloe and letting her lay her head on her shoulder. The anger can wait. Chloe needs her here.

They stay like that for a long time, Chloe’s head on Beca’s shoulder and Beca rubbing Chloe’s hand back and forth with her thumb to calm her down. They sit in silence, and after a while, Chloe straightens up and eventually stands. She holds out her hand and helps Beca up, the two never speaking a word, and they set off toward home.

They walk in silence for a long time until Chloe finally speaks,

“It was Tom.”

“Tom did that? What? Why would he—,”

“We broke up this morning,” Chloe cuts Beca off to explain, “Or I broke up with him, I guess I should say. He saw me talking to Robby Jordan this morning, and he flipped. Nothing was even happening. I would never do that, and Robby hasn’t bothered me about going out with him in weeks. I was just asking him for the anatomy notes that I missed on Monday when I went to the dentist, but Tom didn’t care. He wouldn’t even let me explain. He told me I was embarrassing him in front of the whole school by flirting with other guys and called me a slut in front of his friends. I figured that would be the end of it, but I guess not,” Chloe says quietly as she trails off.

“I swear to God I’m going to beat his fucking face in the first chance I get.” Beca’s anger is starting to boil over.

Chloe grabs Beca’s hand and holds it, partly to force her fist to unclench, and partly just to be in contact with her.

“Don’t. He doesn’t deserve your anger. Or mine for that matter. I’m through with that asshole. For good.” Chloe looks hopeful for the first time since they left the school.

“How are you even semi-okay after what just happened?” Beca asks, genuinely curious.

“I realized a couple of weeks ago that I deserve better than him. The Tom that hung those pictures on the walls isn’t the Tom I fell in love with, and it doesn’t seem like he’s ever coming back. You told me that I didn’t have to take his shit anymore and that I deserved better. I didn’t believe it when you said it, but the next time I was standing in the grocery store parking lot getting yelled at for something I didn’t even do by someone who claimed to love me, I remembered. And I believed it. I still do.”

Beca looked over at Chloe, and they both smiled at each other through tear-filled eyes.

“I knew I was right all along,” Beca says with a smirk, “You deserve the world, Beale.” She gives a light squeeze to Chloe’s hand that’s still holding her own.

“I deserve someone like you,” Chloe says very matter-of-factly.

And just like that, the voices in Beca’s head stop. All of the voices that, although more quiet than they were the previous week, were still yelling at her telling her to run or hide or do anything to stop her feelings for Chloe had been silenced at the sound of those five words.

“What?” Beca releases Chloe’s hand and stops walking, dumbfounded.

“You show me more love every day in the little things you do than Tom ever did. It really is just the little things. You listen to me babble on about God knows what every single day, and you always bring quarters so we can feed the ducks. Nobody has that many quarters just by coincidence. Nobody.”

Beca laughs as a light blush spreads across her cheeks.

“You make me feel wanted and appreciated and cared for and special, and that’s all i could ever want. In a friendship but also in a relationship. I actually realized it when you left my house in a rush last week, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. Everyday this week I’ve walked home from school alone and everyday I’ve thought about how much I miss you being with me, all while dreading having to see Tom after soccer practice. I just realized that you treat me better than he does, and we aren’t even dating.”

Beca grins and grabs Chloe’s hand once more, lacing their fingers together, “Well, I think we might be able to arrange something like that.”

#bechloe hsau #bechloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale #pitch perfect #pp2 #pp3 #pitch perfect 2 #pitch perfect 3 #hsau #i hear your heart beat to the beat of the drum #bechloe fanfic #bechloe fic #my fics

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leonastreal · 6 years

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Mondays

So normally if I was actually active I would post something about how I hate mondays and what not but this time you’re in for something different. So strap up your big boy pants and enjoy this really weird hour and a half of band class. So being in college you create all kinds of weird memories and things you always look back on and get a good laugh out of when you think about it. I think this is now in the top 5 I would recall. So going to band today cause concert is in two weeks and need to be prepped for that my section partner sitting next to me. She’s a bit of an odd ball, normally we just sass each other and the band director when he’s not listening to us (which is like 99% of the time) But her reed is acting up. Being clarinet players this is very common and a rather annoying thing since reeds are expensive and sometimes the rest of the box doesn’t work as well as the one or two reeds you pulled from it. So she says too me “My reeds all flimsy I think it’s done for and I need to change it” My response is “Go ahead and switch them we have enough clarinets to cover you.” So she does and then rambles on about the reed, (I didn’t get all of it since there was another conversation going on from the director to the band and two conversations at once have never been my strong suit when it comes to giving enough attention to either or to figure out what’s being said.) She then says time to see if it’ll survive the reed test. The next thing the whole band hears is her taking the reed and smashing it into the stand knocking off her reed case causing me to almost completely lose it and die laughing. I try my hardest to regain my composure since we’re about to play. After we play the movement I look at the now mutilated reed as she drops it onto my stand and says “now you have a way to clone me!” as she does the innocent cute girl face you see in movies and what not. My facial expressions can’t quite be conveyed in words so the best way to describe it is a combination of the lmao emote and the confused jackie chan face. I’ve never seen such a destroyed reed in my life. It was bent in like 4 places. To make it even worse and more unusable she decides to tear the reed in like fours so it was now the most split and destroyed reed I’ve ever seen. I tried to ponder what just happened and what I was just dragged into but words couldn’t explain it. About 10 minutes after this we’re playing American Salute (When Johnny Comes Marching Home) as we prep for our next concert. We have a substitute band director during all this since our main one is on sabbatical so bare this in mind. Around half way through he’s yelling out where we should be in accordance to the score. Around letter C he yells out “AND LETTER...” as he’s turning the page half the band lost it dying of laughter since he’s supposed to be the one who has the score and can tell us wherever we are. The class was just a mess after this not to mention that now I know the reed test is to ram it against the music stand as hard as you can to make the most noise possible and knock off your reed case all while figuring out if the reed is actually still worth keeping around. I swear college has some weird people you meet that give you some very interesting stories to tell.

P.S. I included the pictures to best describe my facial expression

#mondays #weird day #band #creative writing #creative nonfiction

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adamderiver · 7 years

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Night at Hosnian Farms

for @huxloween day 2: corn maze (3.4k, benarmie)

Of all the fall festivities he’s forced to participate in because of high school marching band, Hux thinks their night at the corn maze is his favorite. It doesn’t involve any American football, freshman welcome rallies, or screaming fans. Tonight, the only screams will be ones of fright as First Order High School Marching Band takes on Hosnian Farms’ Corn Maze of Terror.

Drum major Phasma says that the trip is all in the spirit of marching band bonding, and it’s practically tradition by now, since it’s their third consecutive year of driving an hour out of town to Hosnian Farms. Everyone in the band with a drivers’ license—even some with only learner’s permits—fills up their cars with band students and begins the long drive into the early October night.

This year, Hux is stuck riding with Mitaka. Apparently Mitaka’s nerves while playing his clarinet also extend to driving distances farther than ten miles, because his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel appears almost skeletal as he crawls along the highway at an obnoxiously slow speed.

Honestly, Hux thinks he would be a better driver, and he won’t be sixteen for another two months.

“When’s the exit?” Mitaka asks, eyes never leaving the taillights of Phasma’s Subaru.

“Not for another fifteen miles,” Hux says, flicking back to the page of his phone with the map. Since Hux sat in the passenger’s seat, he received the wonderful honor of being Mitaka’s navigator.

“Okay, just let me know when it’s coming up, I don’t want to miss it.”

Hux doesn’t deign that with a reply, choosing instead to watch the cars going in the other direction race past. It’s only eight o’clock, but it’s already dark enough to turn the oncoming headlights into stars shooting across the night.

It’s only been approximately thirty sections before Mitaka feels he must speak again. “What do you think the theme’s going to be this year? Last year it was zombies.”

“I heard that the year before that, it was clowns,” says Thanisson from the backseat. “They would crawl around on the ground and grab your ankles.”

“How would you know? You weren’t even there,” snaps Unamo. They’re both sophomores, like Hux, so neither of them would’ve been in high school for the supposed year of ankle-grabbing clowns.

“If it is clowns again, I’m leaving,” Mitaka says.

“You can’t go home; you’re our ride,” Hux points out, sighing. It’s just like all of them, to suck the fun out of even this. At least he might get to watch some of them scream.

“Right.” Mitaka bites his lip. “Hux, is the exit coming up?”

“Not for another thirteen miles.”

“Okay, just. I don’t want to miss it.”

Even after all of that, Mitaka does almost miss it, having to swing his Prius around the sharp turn in probably the most reckless driving maneuver Mitaka will ever execute in his life. It’s partially Hux’s fault, since he wasn’t paying as close attention as he should’ve been to Google Maps, and if it was anyone other than Mitaka, he’d have gotten yelled at.

Mitaka parks in the grassy field designated “Parking Graveyard” right next to Phasma, who beckons Hux over.

“Hux! Are you ready for this?” She’s practically bouncing with excitement, and that’s saying a lot, considering that Phasma is someone who never bounces.

“I suppose so,” he replies, feigning boredom by looking at his fingernails. It’s a game he and Phasma like to play, seeing who can appear to care the least about everything.

Phasma punches him on the arm, a signal to quit the game, and Hux cracks a smile.

“Everyone, let’s gather ‘round!” she says, addressing the whole band now. “It’s five dollars to get in, and then you’re free to wander the maze…at your own risk.” Phasma smiles wickedly at the underclassmen, trying to scare them.

As they all make their way down the path to the ticket stand, one of Phasma’s other friends shouts, “Seniors first!” and cuts to the front of the line of band students.

“Really?” Hux mutters to Phasma.

“Sorry, Hux,” she says, running to the front of the line. “I hear it’s more fun in the back, anyway!”

Right. If it was anything other than a haunted corn maze, Phasma would’ve stuck with him in the back with the other sophomores. She couldn’t care less about ridiculous seniority traditions.

At the front of the line, Hux pays his five dollars and joins the rest of the sophomores as they have the rules explained to them.

“Stay on the path,” a too-cheerful man with a plastic meat cleaver sticking out of his chest tells them. “Don’t touch our actors and they won’t touch you. And I know there’s gonna be a lot of things jumping out at you, but please try to keep the language clean. There are kids here. Hmmm…what else, what else.” The man pauses, stroking the handle of his meat cleaver. “Oh, yeah! This year’s theme is Butcher Shop Massacre! So should I say, ‘bon appetite!’” He sweeps his arm over the entrance to the maze before backing away into the corn.

The people in front of Hux surge ahead, eager to get spooked by the “actors,” but Hux hangs back. It’ll be more scary if he’s not surrounded by squealing flute players. At the first junction of the maze, the large group decides to take a right. Hux makes sure to take a left, and then he’s alone in the corn maze.

With the floodlights of the parking section fading behind him, Hux is soon enclosed by the corn. The path is only wide enough for maybe two people to walk side-by-side, and the stalks of corn are tall enough to make Hux feel like an ant crawling through a grassy field. The stalks look nearly gray in the darkness, more similar to something from an alien planet than anything more earthly. The October air is just sharp enough for Hux to leave his jacket zipped, and the light of the half-moon barely illuminates the dirt path ahead of him.

Hux can still hear the shrieks and laughter from other parts of the maze, but they somehow seem far quieter than than the whispering of the wind through the stalks of corn around him. It almost seems like the night is conspiring against him, waiting to release its monsters at a moment’s notice.

A rustling sound causes Hux to stop in his tracks. Someone is preparing to jump out and scare him; he’s an easy target now that he’s alone. They’ll probably laugh if he screams, scared by whatever meat cleaver nonsense Hosnian Farms cooked up this year. No, he won’t give them the satisfaction of hearing him scream. He’ll be ready; nothing can sneak up on him.

The rustling gets louder, and Hux thinks he sees a flash of something metallic to his right. He shuffles slightly to the left, keeping his eyes trained on the corn across from him. There’s suddenly no movement. The whole field around him has gone still. Hux lets out a breath.

“Boo.”

The voice is right in Hux’s ear, so near that the person’s breath tickles his neck. Hux’s fight-or-flight instincts kick in, and before he knows it, he’s rounded on the actor and socked them right in the nose.

“Ow, what the fuck, man!”

The shadowy figure staggers out of the corn, a hand over his nose. Hux has to hold back another yelp of surprise at his appearance before he remembers that it’s all just makeup to make the actors look scarier. This man sure has gone above and beyond, with fake guts oozing out of a massive wound in his side, charred flesh decorating his shoulder, and a bloody gash bisecting his face. He takes his hands away from his nose, and Hux realizes that he’s actually younger than he originally thought. The boy is probably around his age.

“Did you not hear Poe say that you’re not allowed to touch the actors?! This is assault.” His low voice is pinched. “I could have you arrested!”

“It was a reflex!” Hux protests. He’s pretty sure that this boy is under no authority to have him arrested.

“Still! You punched me!” The boy takes off his black beanie and runs his fingers through his dark mess of hair. “And you made me break character.”

“Break character?” Hux scoffs. “This is a corn maze, not bloody Hollywood.”

“A good actor brings his best to every role,” he insists, crossing his arms. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Right.” Hux rolls his eyes. “How do you know that I won’t understand? For all you know I’m an acting student myself.”

“Please,” the boy snorts. “You’re in high school. Don’t try to pull this I-know-more-than-you bullshit on me.”

Hux sniffs, slightly offended. He always thought he looked mature for his age, passable as someone quite a few years older. Something about his bone structure, he thought. “You can’t be acting superior either, then. You can’t be older than I am.”

“Yeah, but I go to New Republic High School for the Arts,” he snaps. “So I actually know what I’m talking about.”

Hux wrinkles his nose. “Oh, you’re one of those.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” The boy crosses his arms.

“It means that you’re one of those kids whose parents told them that they’re special and sent them off to become artists and musicians, when really they should be learning how the real world works.” Hux pauses, but the other boy doesn’t interrupt him, so he continues. “Also, you all have ridiculous names better suited for hippies in the sixties than for the modern era. Or you have a normal name, like Henry or Kyle, but your parents decided to be ‘creative’ and add extra letters, or switch up the vowels.”

The boy doesn’t say anything, and Hux wonders if he caused some sort of brain trauma when he punched him. After waving his hand over the boy’s eyes, he blinks and begins to speak. “First of all, I can’t believe you just used the phrase ‘the modern era.’ Second, my name isn’t Kyl-o or some shit, it’s Ben. Ben Solo.” He holds out his hand to shake, and Hux stares at it incredulously.

Hux takes another look at their surroundings, the stalks of corn, the moon, the bloody makeup on Ben’s face, and says, “Seriously? You expect to make friends here?”

“Who says I want to make friends?” Ben growls in what could either be perceived as anger or an attempt at a sensual growl. Hux hopes it’s the former. Ben isn’t exactly his type, with his broad shoulders and the few inches of height that he has over Hux.

Well, Hux’s type also usually isn’t spilling fake guts over a tear in his black hoodie.

“Fine. I’m Hux.” Hux glances at the empty path ahead of them, trying to find a polite way to end the conversation. He suddenly remembers their marching band schedule; First Order HS is playing New Republic next Saturday. “Maybe I’ll see you at next weekend’s football game, when our schools play each other. It was nice to meet you.”

Hux is only able to take one step before Ben interrupts his departure.

“You play football?”

“No, I’m in the marching band.” Hux rolls his eyes and gestures to his thin frame. “Do you really think I have the build to be a football player?”

Ben studies him in the low light, resting his hand on his chin. “Probably not. You wouldn’t look good in all that padding, anyway.”

“Excuse me?” Hux swallows. Was he supposed to say thank you? Was that even a compliment?

Ben shrugs. “You know, you’re just. Good as is, I guess.”

“Well.” Is it awkward to exit the conversation now? Ben has certainly ruined the spooky mood for Hux.

“Well,” Ben echoes him, rubbing his hand over his lips before jerking back a step. “Shit. I’m bleeding.”

Hux looks at Ben’s face quizzically. “Isn’t that the point?”

“No, not my makeup, my nose! You punched me and now I’m bleeding!”

“Oh,” Hux says stupidly, still standing completely still as Ben hops up and down frantically, pinching the bridge of his nose. He tilts his head back, and at least Hux knows what to say now. “Don’t do that. Tilt your head forward so the blood doesn’t run down the back of your throat.”

Ben complies without complaint, tipping his head toward the ground. A couple drops of blood land softly in the dirt, and Hux almost laughs. Hosnian Farms’ haunted corn maze, now with authentic blood splatters.

“I’m gonna go find the medical tent,” Ben mumbles, taking two steps farther along the path before stopping. He looks back over his shoulder, face still marred by both his fake wound and his Hux-inflicted one. “Can you help me find the medical tent?”

Hux sighs. This was not what he signed up for when he got into Mitaka’s car an hour ago. “I suppose. Which way?”

Ben looks back and forth, considering.

“You don’t know?” Hux sighs. He’d be able to muster up some more compassion if Ben just had some damn common sense.

“Hey, gimme a break, I might be concussed.” Ben removes his hand from his nose and wipes the blood on his hoodie.

“That would explain a lot,” Hux mutters.

“It’s this way.” Ben points farther down the path, away from the entrance Hux had come from.

“Okay then.” Hux takes three steps past Ben, but before he knows it, Ben’s linking his arm through Hux’s. Hux turns his head to look pointedly at Ben, who is suddenly close enough for Hux to make out the tiny particles of makeup decorating his cheeks. He just gives Hux a half-shrug.

“I could be concussed. I could get dizzy and fall,” he says, his breath tickling Hux’s cheek. It’s very warm, especially in the cold night air, and Hux has to stop himself from leaning closer.

He always forgets how warm other people are, their breath and hands and mouths enough to set Hux on fire.

They shuffle along silently for an awkward minute, Hux dragging Ben along beside him. Hux doesn’t know why Ben’s long legs can’t keep up with his powerful strides. Maybe he just likes to be dragged.

“You can turn left here,” Ben says, tugging on Hux’s arm.

“There’s no turn here.” Hux gestures to the wall of corn to their left. For the first time, he starts to wonder if Ben really is concussed.

“I know. It’s a shortcut. C’mon.”

“A minute ago you could barely remember which way the damn thing was, and now you think you know a shortcut?!”

“Yeah, it’ll be a lot faster, trust me.” Ben tugs on Hux’s arm again, and Hux sighs and steps into the corn.

When Hux said he wanted an immersive corn maze experience, he thought he was being a bit more metaphorical.

The stalks brush Hux’s arms as he weaves through the corn after Ben, their earthy scent surrounding the two of them as the moonlight reflects off Ben’s dark hair. At this point Ben is pulling him by his hand, staying almost a full step ahead of Hux. Hux doesn’t remember when Ben laced their fingers together, and he’s almost glad it happened without his notice. Otherwise, he would’ve protested, and Ben’s hands are quite warm. They have a quality of security to them, slightly calloused and covering his own. It’s nice in a way that Hux doesn’t want to explain.

Ben leads him in a weaving pattern that Hux is sure can’t be a shortcut of any kind. They seem to be getting farther from the corn maze itself, since the shrieks and laughter of Hux’s bandmates are fading behind them. It seems to get darker with each footstep, Ben’s fake injuries looking more real by the second. It almost seems as if Hux is truly being led out into a cornfield by some kind of monster.

“We’re lost.” Hux doesn’t phrase it as a question, too preoccupied with imagining the search party stumbling upon his missing body, years later.

“No, we’re not.” Ben stops walking between two narrow rows and turns to face Hux, their linked hands hanging in the space between them.

“Then why have we stopped?”

Ben exhales. “Okay, Hux, I’m gonna level with you. We’re not lost, but we’re not headed to the medical tent either.”

“Then what…” Hux’s voice blows away with the wind that ruffles Ben’s hair around his face. His eyes are as bottomless as the night sky and as soft as velvet. “Then what…” Hux tries again.

Ben rolls his eyes to look up at the moon, takes a deep breath, steps forward, and kisses Hux.

It’s a thunderous moment, the blood pounding in Hux’s ears as he melts against Ben, Ben’s warmth, Ben’s soft lips. He tastes like cinnamon gum, as fiery as the blush crawling across Hux’s cheeks. Ben kisses Hux as if his lips can banish the chill from his bones, and the warmth blooms all the way down to Hux’s toes, bright as a bonfire.

Ben pulls away after several dizzying seconds. He stays close enough that they’re still sharing breath, noses nearly brushing.

“Um,” Ben breathes, “was that okay?”

“What the hell, Ben?” Hux whispers back, but his voice is as soft and breathy as Ben’s. “You’re supposed to ask that beforehand.”

“But that would’ve ruined the moment of spontaneity! Plus, you were totally checking me out earlier.”

Hux leans back and whacks Ben’s shoulder with his free hand, the other still twined with Ben’s. “I was not!”

“Yes, you were. The moment was right; it was romantic.”

“Romantic?” Hux repeats, looking at their surroundings. “You think stalks of corn are romantic?”

Ben rolls his eyes. “I was talking about the moonlight, not the dumb corn.”

“Still.” Hux attempts to frown at him. “The moonlight hardly makes up for the fact that you’re dressed like some kind of murder victim.”

“Uh, yeah, about that…” Ben leans in closer again. “You got some of my, uh, blood makeup on your face.”

For the first time since they broke apart, Hux notices that the bottom half of Ben’s bloody gash has been transformed into a red smear. It looks more like Ben was gnawing on Hux’s face rather than kissing it.

“Fucking hell, Ben, what am I going to tell my bandmates?” Hux pats his pockets, searching for his phone to check the damage.

“Here, I got it.” Ben licks his thumb and starts scrubbing it over the corner of Hux’s mouth.

“Stop, that’s disgusting.” Hux shoves Ben’s arm away, stepping back. He finally locates his phone in his jacket pocket and takes it out. He’s missed one message from Phasma: Where are you?? The rest of us are all through the maze and want to start driving back.

Ben frowns. “What? It’s just my spit. We were literally making out a minute ago.”

“That was hardly ‘making out,’” Hux comments as he untangles his fingers from Ben’s to text Phasma back. Be there in 5, he sends her.

“Oh, really?” Ben says, sliding closer. He places his hands on Hux’s hips. “I don’t think I’m quite clear on the difference. Can you give me a demonstration?”

“Ben, I really have to go, my friends are leaving.” Hux steps out of his embrace.

Ben’s face falls. “Oh. Was it the cheesy line? Did I push too far? I’m sorry, but everything was just going so well I thought I’d try to say something smooth—”

“Ben,” Hux interrupts. “You’re fine, but I really do have to go, so if you could show me back to the entrance to the maze…?”

“Oh. Sure.”

Ben still doesn’t move, so Hux hands him his phone. “Put your number in, and I’ll text you sometime.”

Ben grins, and Hux can’t help but smile too. His fake scar almost suits him.

By the time Hux emerges from the corn maze, Phasma looks like she’s about to send out a search party.

“Hux, what the hell, where were you?” She squints her eyes at him. “And what the fuck happened to your mouth?”

Hux reaches up a hand to touch where Ben’s makeup still stains the side of his face. “I was kissing monsters,” he says dryly.

Phasma laughs, not sure what to make of this response. “Sounds romantic.”

Hux glances up at the moon. “You know, it kind of was.”

#huxloween #day 2 #even though it's the end of day 31 #kylux #kylux fanfic #benarmie #my writing

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notice-mesenpai · 7 years

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Marching Band Headcanons!

For a lot of schools, marching band season is upon them! So let’s “drum” it up with some headcanons about the senpai!

Izumi: 10th grade. He’s a freaking cutie on the cymbal line. Izumi is determined when practicing and performing, but extremely flustered on a regular basis. More often than not, he’s almost left his cymbal bag behind at schools and on the bus, getting so embarrassed each time Wakatoshi finds it first and lets him know.

Yuu: 11th grade. One of the top clarinet players in the school, and is section leader. He is the master of hitting the higher notes, thinking them almost cute and enjoyable. He always brings his stuffed bunny rabbit to competitions, and before every performance, makes him “kiss” all the members of his section for good luck.

Ren: 11th grade. In the front ensemble playing vibraphone. He is very good at his instrument and a natural sight reader, but he often falls asleep over his instrument, even while playing it. He never hears the end of it from Touru, ever. Is often woken up by Reiji and his impossibly loud instrument.

Touya: 9th grade. Colorguard. A bit clumsy with rifle, but enjoys dancing and twirling the flag. Will always look good in the color guard costume, no matter what it is or how ridiculous it looks. Touya has some of the highest spirit and is often found chatting with Jae, crafting up plans and pranks.

Hajime: 12th grade. Sousaphone, but totally wants to show off that he can lift the tuba on his shoulder, so he asks the band director every single year if they can switch to tubas instead. He totally adds to the raw power of the low brass, and his dynamics are out of this world.

Reiji: 11th grade. Trombone, great performer but also messes around when the drum majors aren’t looking. He’s often at the back of the bus doing homework, but won’t hesitate to get involved in the playing of some meme-tastic song if it starts. Is the section leader.

Shun: 11th grade. In the front ensemble playing drumset. There isn’t often music written for him when they receive their part, so he uses the familiar lines from his video games, but also creates his own. Is often told to quiet down by Kyouya, because he’s right in front of the podium and playing his heart out.

Souma: 10th grade. Smaller bass drum on the percussion line. He’s a bit of a health nut when it comes to marching band season, making sure that everyone’s eating (often finding himself feeding and forcing water on members who refuse it because they “want to look tough”). He’s not the best marcher or loudest player… but boy, does he make up for it in spirit and determination.

Wakatoshi: 10th grade. Tenor drum percussionist. He often teases his fellow percussionists, particularly Izumi, but when he needs to be he can be very in-time. Yells the loudest if they get out of step, counts the loudest with the boldest voice.

Makoto: 12th grade. Trumpet player and section leader. Makes sure to keep their members in focus, but also teases and does weird chants to boost the section’s ego. However, he’s the pride of the band with his good grades and great playing.

Tokiya: 10th grade. Colorguard. A natural with sabre, making Ryuu jealous, as the older boy had to really work to be good at it. Tokiya is very smile-y and vibrant as a member of the guard. He is constantly working on his technique to better himself, and refuses to let others get him down.

Akira: 11th grade. Bigger bass drum on the percussion line. He also doubles as the mascot when running around at football games, and one time, he forgot to take off his mascot head to switch to his marching hat before going out to the field. It was simultaneously his best and most embarrassing moment. He’s often in charge of making sure everyone has their sticks and has the cleanest taping skills.

Soujiro: 11th grade. Flute. Elegant with the instrument with his rich tone and vibrato. [He’s one of those losers who prefer concert season over marching]. Is kinda strict and frustrated with the section’s behavior (because flutes, y’know?), yet if he overhears another section talking smack about the flutes, he doesn’t hesitate to lash back. Is protective over his lil’ Hinata, but is weary that he is friends with Ai - he thinks Ai is spoiling him with a bad attitude.

Souh: 11th grade. Clarinet. In concert season, he’s the one bass and contrabass clarinet, so it makes him sad when it’s time for marching band and he has to close the case on those instruments for a little while. He’s always a little salty about the fact that clarinets are so hard to hear on the field, so he really works to his dynamics rather than his upper register.

Touru: 11th grade. Deputy Drum Major in the marching band, who is very proud and excited to have gotten his position. He idolizes Kyouya, who is the Head Drum Major, and aims to be just like him. He totally memorizes the handbook and enforces it, that nerd. Appreciates quiet.

Hideki: 12th grade. In front ensemble playing marimba. The kid that always practices his part two hours a day, and somehow manages to fit in all his schoolwork. He can do two sticks per hand and is working on three for his final year. Always seems tired. Is going to get into a great university, and still play music - but not major in it.

Suzuki: 11th grade. In the front ensemble playing keyboard. He has memorized the entire system of packing and unpacking the truck, but is also that kid who you have to remind to change his keyboard from “Ghost Sounds” to “Piano” before the performance.

Yamato: 11th grade. In the front ensemble playing guitar. He’s always picking away at his guitar and carries it to classes, too. Was dragged into the marching band by Suzuki his sophomore year because “they needed a guitarist” and he’s decided to not leave. He actually really enjoys being in the group.

Kyouya: 12th grade. Head Drum Major of the marching band, his second year of holding the title. He works very hard to keep everyone in order and in line, but some of the members often stress him out. He’s also constantly reminding Touru that he doesn’t have to be so uptight and strict, but to no avail.

Takeru: 11th grade. Tenor sax player. He played it as a child because that’s what his teacher chose for him to play, and he hasn’t let go of it since. He loves to play it, but often finds himself a little lonely on the bus. He really enjoys talking to the cheerleaders, especially one in particular who he’s known since he was little.

Haruka: 12th grade. Mellophone player. He often goes along with Viktor’s pranks if they’re harmless enough, much to Kyouya’s agony. He knows a lot about instrument repair, to the point where if your instrument breaks right before competition, you can bet that he can fix it, somehow, someway. He’s also that kid who went the extra mile and got First Aid and CPR certified.

Jéan: 11th grade. Alto saxophone, motivates the section with suave comments but also annoys them by blasting Careless Whisper. Likes to pull his shorts up a bit too high during practice. Some members find him amazing since he’s one of the only few students who can pull Touru out of his serious face and into other emotions [mainly flustered].

Ai: 9th grade. Flute. He plays “My Heart Will Go On” and so many other ridiculous, cheesy love songs that you just… do not want to hear on the bus ride down. It’s his speciality, and he’s constantly getting chastised by Soujiro for it. Is probably going to be a good flutist if he practices a little more.

Hinata: 9th grade. Flute, the more quiet appearing twin. Whenever the section has a gathering, he’s that sweet, awkward freshman that shows up. Older members saw him as pure and sensible, but once he gathered the guts and became friends with Ai, he became mischievous and a prankster.

Sousuke: 9th grade. Alto sax, and a natural marcher. He always has the snacks on the bus ride down to the competitions or parades. He’s also in the orchestra on cello, and can sightread pretty well. He loves music, but isn’t sure if he wants to pursue it yet.

Kei: 10th grade. Baritone, because that section is a mystery. He’s always in all black during the summer practice. How he doesn’t sweat too much is a marvel in itself. He’s also very consistently in step and comes to band camp with all his music already memorized. Even if they got it the day before.

Takahiro: 11th grade. Drum captain and head snare. Nobody is sure how he has the cleanest taps and beats, because there’s no way he can practice that much with his part-time jobs. He practices on a drum pad before bed, in his limo, and during lulls at work. Do you even practice, bro.

Katsuo: 10th grade. Trumpet and co-section leader. The stricter, but louder one. Made the members become a lil’ homo to each other but have the “no homo” motto. He is the one who is shirtless every single day of band camp. Also on the swim team, as he hopes his extracurriculars make up for his grades.

Ryuu: 11th grade. Colorguard captain. His specialization is rifle, but he’s good at flag and sabre as well. He can do an eight with rifle, and coordinates the costumes best. He is very proud to have gotten the title of captain his junior year, but has a small rivalry with Tokiya.

Kurou: 11th grade. Trombone player. He and Reiji often double-team people with the trombone “whoooooooooooooooomp” slide to scare them. He adores to play his instrument too and is strangely good friends with the prickly Guard Captain. Directs plays in theatre as well, and nobody is sure how he gets enough sleep during the fall.

Viktor: 12th grade. Bari sax player. He’s the one that suggests all the senior pranks and is close friends with Kyouya and Haruka, who he’s been in band with since 9th grade. He learned bari sax because he was determined to learn it after someone said he couldn’t, and adores the instrument. A lot of the younger members look up to him for his pranks and ability to get out of situations where Kyouya is chewing him out.

Itsuki: 9th grade. Sousaphone. He is actually lowkey strong and believes the massive instrument will help him get noticed. ...It hasn’t quite worked yet. However, he’s got a lot of air and can hold is own as a sousaphone player. He also really enjoys wearing the beret over the hat. Strangely good friends with Viktor.

Jae: 12th grade. Colorguard. He’s the main dancer and absolutely loves dressing up in the main costumes as the star of the guard. He doesn’t mind not being Guard Captain, since it means he can dedicate more time to dance club and his final year.

Seiichi: 11th grade. Clarinet player. He’s been chewed out since day one for his mechanical playing style and his strict adherence to the rules, but you can use him as a natural tuner or metronome. He reminds Touru of little things or is Touru’s soundboard if he needs to rant. Plays oboe during the concert season.

Bonus Kouhai: 9th grade. Cheerleader, but she’s not one to be with the football team; she much prefers to chat with and spend time with the members of the band. Her small stature allows her to be the person that they lift and toss into the air.

Contributors: Suji & Kashi

#notice me senpai #nms #notice me senpai app #notice me senpai game #skillshot labs #headcanon #suji #kashi

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onceawasteland · 7 years

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NATASHA, PIERRE AND THE GREAT COMET OF 1812 (August 11th 2017, and August 12th 2017) there are spoilers to come but i felt you would all appreciate my take on the show for I have greatly appreciated everyone else's reviews. THIS STORY IS THE BEST THING TO EVER HAPPEN TO ME AND I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT IT IS CLOSING. the above are pictures from my two respective seats and at the stage door Act One * the walls are covered in portraits from the 1800s, some of which are landscapes of operas) * i danced (badly) on a broadway stage * to get to the on stage seating you enter through lucas' door * while waiting for the show to start old russian music is playing. they also played some french music bc they were francophiles YAY FOR HISTORY * a lady behind me said "omg look at how they did the staging... i guess its pretty clear that theres not a lot of dancing in this show. and i about died laughing * during prologue Cathryn squeaked on the clarinet as she ran down the stairs and my best friend is a clarinet player so this made her RIDICULOUSLY happy * OAK LOOKED RIGHT AT ME DURING MY FAVORITE PART OF PIERRE WHICH IS MY FAVORITE SONG (You empty and stupid, contented fellows. satisfied with your place, im different from you im different from you. i stilll want to do something) * during pierre, pierre sings the part, "and how many men before good russian men, believing in goodness and truth" right to Anatole (who is in the main spot light) and a bunch of other dudes including Dolokohv * Anatole is wasted pretty much the whole show but he this is when you first notice it and lucas was sitting on the stairs right next to me and he kind of drunkenly slipped before he ran to the other side of the stage and i was like 😍😍 * Deneé was on our side of the stage pretty much the whole show and she looked me straight in the eyes about 15 times * during the very beginning of no one else when the music just starts to play Deneé walks with very youthful steps and it just emphasizes her innocence and lack of awareness and just EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS PLAY IS MAGIC * no one else is the most beautiful thing i have ever seen (well kind of if you dont count the great comet of 1812) The independent lightbulbs which are hanging from the ceiling all kind of drop so it kind of looks like Natasha is floating among the stars * when deneé sang "we were angles once dont you remember" the second night i was there the guy she was singing to on stage right said yes and you could hear it in her mike 😂 * also during no one else, when Deneé sings "this winter sky" she is standing on the top tier of stairs and she flings her arms out gesturing to the sky and the blue light of the moon is the only real light on her and it is quite simply breathtaking * andrei shows up 3-4 times during act one and its super sad every time. the first one (i think, from my vantage point) was during no one else when Natasha is squeezing her knees. Andrei is holding her letters in his hand and then he puts them in his coat pocket right next to his heart and i want to die. * at the beginning of the opera when Dolokohv is introduced he is so ridiculously arrogant and its adorable. Dolokohv in general is pretty fucking adorable. He points at the mezzanine and smirks and its beautiful * at the opera when Natasha says "a little sad a little stout" pierre is in the parlor which is right between natasha and Marya, and Helene and he makes this face like "wtf dude we should be bros" and he is playing the accordion and he pulls it in a way that the note declines and its just this hilarious moment * during the opera andrei shows up covered in blood right after Natasha sees Anatole is staring at her and its so depressing and also NICHOLAS BELTON OMG * Andrei also shows up during Natasha and Anatole (ok my heart 💔) * pierre is reading in his study through almost the entire show * So i heard this before and i didnt believe it bc you cant tell from just the music but the way that lucas plays Anatole is just so complex i love it. During, Natasha and Anatole he is a. really surprised at the amount that he isnt being rebuffed. and b. he has all these nervous tics before he enters the box all the way and makes his presence known and it just adds so much to the character because while yes he is the bad guy he isnt evil he is just unaware of everyone else. * he also tries to convince himself that he isnt doing anything wrong during "we are speaking of the most ordinary things" he wasnt trying to convince her HE WAS TRYING TO CONVINCE HIMSELF * and then RIGHT WHEN SHE SAYS "yet I feel closer to you thank Ive ever felt with any other man" he just looks so happy and surprised * Right before Anatole goes to talk to Pierre during the duel he does this mind blown motion after watching natasha exit and its so fucking cute * DOLOKOHV'S "DRINK DRINK"s AT THE BEGINNING OF THE DUEL HAPPENED AS HE RAN UP THE STAIRS RIGHT NEXT TO ME AND I DIED BC HOLY FUCK NICK CHOKSI * I know you all already know this but the strobe lights are the most badass thing i have ever seen in my life. i straight up thought i was going to die they are SO intense. and during the ohohohohohs at the beginning lucas and nick did this hoping dance and i was like 😍 and its so cool bc of the strobe lights and I WILL NEVER GET OVER THE STROBE LIGHTS HOLY FUCK * the second night i saw it, i cant remember who it was but, someone literally almost kicked me in the face from the stage section right in front of me * during the line "then i feel a pleasant warmth in my body" LUCAS DOES A BODY ROLE AND IT IS SO RIDICULOUSLY HOT I CANNOT EVEN DESCRIBE IT * OK OAK! this is the moment i was like FUCK ME GENTLY WITH A CHAINSAW THIS BOY IS A GIFT FROM HEAVEN. When Dolokohv is singing "heres to the health of married women" he is talking directly into pierre's face trying to bro out, and oak's face just falls completely and im like I NEED TO GIVE YOU A HUG DONT BE SAD. then, THENNNNN Dolokohv actually goes and makes out with helene two feet away from him and the hurt on oaks face was so raw i just 😭 * during the duel it is super obvious that Helene actually cares about Pierre because when she see that he hit Dolokohv shes more worried about the retribution than she is about dolokohv and i just want to die bc these characters are so fucking complex and BEAUTIFULLLLL * Dust and Ashes IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL SONG AND OAK SINGS IT SO WELL AND I DIDNT KNOW THAT THE SONGS COULD GET BETTER BUT HE DID AND I WANT TO DIE * Dust and Ashes is my best friends favorite song and Oak looked directly at her during her favorite line too and its like he fucking knew we were sitting there * during sunday morning Sonya is trying to imitate Marya by sitting exactly like her and that is so great * Charming is gay. that is all there is to say really, just GAYYYYY * and Natasha imitates Helene at the end of Charming which again shows her innocence (SCREAMING) * she then makes the most adorable "well if you say so face" during "but still she talks so frankly. so it must be alright" and she kind of shrugs and AGHHHH * at the beginning if the ball Anatole, again, has all sorts of nervous energy and hes pacing and bouncing on the balls of his feet shaking his hands. and it just adds so much depth. * the ball was really distracting the first night bc two people (cant say who they were bc they are in huge ass masks) were dancing like 6 inches away from me and kept breathing in my ear. I am not complaining. * Lucas turns around with his hands up in a surrender pose like "i didnt do anything what are you saying" when natasha says "your hurting my hand" which i love. then he runs up and just grabs her bodily, turns her to him and smashes his lips on to hers. they stay like that for like 4 seconds and then natasha throws herself on top of him, essentially, and he kind of spins them around and its really kind of romantic (i am not a shipper of the two, except that i maybe kind of am after seeing how they interact with eachother) * Natasha kind of freaks out after the kiss but she is convinced that there is nothing else for her now but anatole and its like GIRLLLLL * Lucas and Deneé leave the stage arm and arm through the big door at the back with the same white lights that Anatole entered with. ACT 2 VERY FIRST THING THAT HAPPENED IN ACT TWO. LUCAS STEELE STARED INTO MY EYES FOR A SOLID 6 SECONDS AND SMIRKED AT ME AN I DIED AND MY FACE PROBABLY LOOKED SO DUMB BUT I DONT CARE BECAUSE AGHH In Letters when pierre says IT IS NAPOLEON the portrait of napoleon on the wall lit up and i cried andrei was there during all of letters and it was so depressing BECAUSE YOU KNOW WHATS COMING AND AGH. right before sonya and natasha sonya and anatole glare at eachother as lucas exists and then sonya runs to grab the letter from natasha's hand. DENEÉ'S SASS DURING THE LINE "I do not grasp the question" is fucking epic. she roles her eyes and its perfection during Sonya alone Igrid Michaelson was literally three feet away. and the lights didnt light up behind denee and i was like ohhh someone messed up. Dolokohv was trying insanely hard to convince anatole not to go through with the abduction and his turmole was very evident. at one point denee walk across the stage and he looked between her and anatole, ran his hand through his hair and then just gives in and follows. Anatole is v annoyed with Dolokohv during preparations. while dolokohv is speaking he is mouthing along like "shut up bro you dont know wtf youre saying" its very funny balaga: there are no words just so much happened paul pinto is a beast i dont even know how he does it. ok on night two i tried write down things from balaga Heath whipped me in the face with his hair as he was head banging on the stage in front of me. marya plays the drums at the top of the stage #GRACEMcLEANISAGODDESS andrei is present through most of act two. he is playing the triangle in pierre's study during balaga OAK DOES THE MOST ADORABLE LAUGH AFTER HIS "WooooOOOOOOAHHH" in abduction. he makes me want to die Lucas' "WAAAAAAIIIT first we have to sit down" is hilarious because the amount of time that he just sits there in silence flirting with this random lady on stage is ridiculous. he messes with his hair and puts his arm around her while we (i) all just sit there staring at him with doppy smiles on our (my) faces. on night two he sat next to a guy on the stage and i really thought he was going to flirt with him as well but alas dolokohv's fur cloak bit is very funny and the cloak is purple which is not what i imagined. again i will say that he is adorable anatole makes out with the fur cloak girl before going to get natasha. boi Grace McLean's in my house is not just angry she is also devastated that natasha is to be ruined. her face is contorted with pain in almost every line. and she is pleading with natasha to listen to her. her vocals are just so insane just OMG the blocking during in my house was also insanely cool. sonya, natasha, and Marya are standing in a a triangle the whole time (denee was RIGHT in front of me for the majority of the time) and they would switch which point of the triangle they were at and the rotation was very neat. I REALIZED LATER THAT THIS IS A PARALLEL TO MOSCOW BECAUSE THEY ARE STANDING IN A TRIANGLE THEN TOO AND OMG THIS SHOW DOES LITERALLY EVERYTHING RIGHT in call to pierre, oaks first what, when pinto gives him the letter is like "wtf is going on here im nobody whats going on" and despite being very depressing is also kind of funny. the whats then progressively get less funny and more depressing and i HATE THAT THIS HAPPENS TO MY CHILDREN NICHOLAS BELTON WAS RIGHT NEXT TO ME ON THE SECOND NIGHT DURING CALL TO PIERRE AND HE KIND OF RUNS AND HIDES BEHIND A POST IN THE BACK OF THE THEATER AS PIERRE LEARSN WHAT HAPPENED TO NATASHA. pierre went to find anatole in the club all of the ensemble were surrounding the walls of the theater and it felt like we were actually in the club which was insane after "NATASH, NATASHA. IT IS ESSENTIAL THAT I SEE NATASHA" Anatole throws his head down into helene's lap and i read somewhere that "they downplayed the incest" BUT I CALL BULL SHIT I DIDNT SAY THIS EARLIER BUT DURING THE DUEL AT THE LINE "Imma make love to her" AMBER IS GRINDING ON LUCAS SO I CALL BULL FUCKING SHIT anatole is also really distraught. its super weird bc with just the music to go off of you think anatole is just this jackass that wants nothing but to feel good and fuck everyone else... BUT LUCAS OMG lucas makes him sympathetic. he seems to really love natasha and when pierre is yelling at him he takes it to heart and freaks the hell out and just my love (i mean still a dick but) pierre and anatole is so fucking intense. and the ending if it when anatole is being a whiny baby IT IS SO GREAT BC ITS SO CLEAR HE IS THROWING A TEMPER TANTRUM which emphasizes his age and lack of understanding as well WHICH IS JUST SO FUCKING GREAT. Anatole's exit is almost an exact reflection of his entrance. with the lights flaring as he walks out the door everyone talks about this but when natasha poisons herself shes right between anatole and pierre and its so depressing and just my heart pierre and andrei is so fucking sad. first off in the book (which is all about redemption, ill get to that) Andrei gets the BEST most beautiful redemption arc, and ive always been kind if sad that they took that out. everyone else gets at least the possibility of redemption and they just straight up removed every possibility of andrei finding forgiveness. but whatever this is the song that made me start crying, i didnt stop until i was standing at the stage door both nights. ITS JUST SO FUCKING SAD AND I DONT EVER WANT TO FORGET NICHOLAS BELTON STANDING ON THE STAGE "smiling like his father" AS HE COMES TO TERMS WITH THIS BETRAYAL. OAK! OAKKKKKK. I did not know that pierre could get better i thought we had reached maximum amazing but HOLY SHIT. first off the whole time he was hilarious. at the beginning of the Duel when he said opera he satirized the word and drew it out kind of long which was hilarious. and other little moments while he was in his parlor. BRILLIANT. and then AND THEN DURING PIERRE AND NATASHA. i have no words the whole thing was heart breaking. I started crying during Pierre and Andrei and I didnt stop until the end, at the stage door, but holy fuck. after he says his line (you all know the one) i could SEE this singular tear fall from his face and god damn if that wasnt the most heart wrenching thing i have ever seen. he was full on sobbing on stage and i could not handle it. During Pierre and Natasha, Helene, Marya, and Dolokohv were sitting in the audience sections and Helene was crying, dolokohv was strumming his guitar and looking very depressed and Marya just sat there shaking her head. Im not sure if other people were around too but those were the three i could see. during great comet everything is just so beautiful. oaks acting and gestures made everything 100102948391x better but the lighting was INSANE. the comet was beautiful the stars were beautiful, oak was beautiful. one of the MOST stunning plays I have EVER seen in so many ways. a person is not supposed to cry 6 times during a show... it requires magic and this show had it in bucket loads. STAGE DOOR DAY ONE: I MISSED GRACE MCLEAN BC I WAS DISTRACTED AND I WILL NEVER FORGIVE MYSELF AGHWHSHF Lucas must be on voice rest bc he wasnt saying anything but HE WAS SO CUTE AND IM DYING BC HE TOUCHED ME. (also i became like ridiculously starstruck and forgot that i wanted to tell him how much his acting adds to the lyrics and the character and how he is so much more sympathetic because he genuinely loves natasha and just doesn't demonstrate that in a good way, i will also. ever forgive myself for that) there was a little girl next to me at the stage door and the actresses were all being so encouraging to her. they were like "if you want to be an actress DO IT, I was right where you were once and now im here. you have it in you, just dont ever give up." and i wanted to cry bc OH JESUS THEY ARE SUCH GOOD PEOPLE. Paul Pinto is THE MOST™. i absolutely love it even after the show he had SO much energy. i was like 😮 how. Nick Choksi is adorable and wears so much eyeliner and he also talked to the little girl next to me about how excited he would be to see her name up on a marquee one day and i cried. I have no idea what I said to him bc again i was starstruck. My best friend died a little bc she loves him and i think it was honestly one of the best moments of her life. Amber, Oak, and Denee didnt come out (sobs) but APPARENTLY Renee Elise Goldsberry was there to congratulate Oak and support him and i was to cry again. OK DAY TWO STAGE DOOR: * this was a scary night for me * i got into a fight with a man because he was being exceptionally rude to the actors and i called him out on it and he started screaming at me and then he started pushing this other lady right when Shoba was signing in front of us and she looked so scared and i feel so fucking bad * also his daughter was obviously a huge fan of the show and was so excited to see the cast and when he got kicked out she was sobbing and i will maybe never forgive myself for ruining this girls night on broadway but someone needed to say something. he was straight up making fun of the cast as they were three feet away from him and the final straw for me was when he said "some one needs to go in there and grab that blond bitch by the hair and drag her out here. if no one else will ill do it" and so i turned around and said "excuse me sir would you mind turning down the vulgarity. it's incredibly disrespectful" and he said some of the meanest things i have ever heard from another person (called me a bitch, told me i would always be alone, tried to intimidate me by saying he was three times my age... i was just like that says more about you than it does about me man) any way the security guy (idk his name but i love him) got him to leave and then once he was gone i started crying bc everyone around me was patting me on the back trying to make me feel better and that makes me cry apparently. * SO THEN ANGLE MAN MCSECURITY came over and tried to cheer me up as did many other people which really only made it worse but everyone was being so kind and trying to distract me and finally i said "FUCK IT I CANT BE CRYING WHEN LUCAS STEELE COMES OUT" and everyone laughed and i started to stop crying. OK SO WHEN LUCAS CAME OUT AND GOT TO ME ANGLE SECURITY MAN SAID "lucas just so you know this girl has had a really hard time just now. a man was being very confrontational with her in the crowd, (wait for it) can she have a hug" and lucas stared into my eyes (LMAO I AM NATASHA) and said (his voice was so raspy and he was definitely not supposed to be speaking) "im so sorry but if i hug you i have to hug everyone, im so sorry that you had an altercation. here i can do this" AND HE STARTED RUBBING MY HAND IN CIRCLES AND I ABOUT DIED and i said "its ok i totally understand, you are actually fantastic (AND I LOVE YOU, actually no i didnt say that) can i have a picture?" and he said yes (its so bad) and then went down the line more BUT HOLY FUCK * and THEN i asked the totally innocuous question to angle security man, out if curiosity not wanting to do it myself, "not to sound presumptuous or anything but how is it that people grt to go back stage at things like this?" and he said friends or family and i said ok, makes sense i was just curious. THEN HE CAME BACK 3 MINUTES LATER AND SAID "i just wanted to let you know i tried to get you back stage, my friend Summaya is in the cast would have taken you but she already left. i hope thats ok." and i just kind of stared at him bc I WASNT ASKING TO GO BACK MYSELF IT WAS A FOR FUTURE REFERENCE THING and i said "no no of course i totally understand dont worry about it" * GUESS WHAT ELSE HAPPEND BRITTAN ASHFORD WAS THERE AND WHEN SHE CAME OUT i started pointing and talking incoherently and he said, "do you want Brittan's autograph?" and i just kind of nodded and he BROUGHT HER OVER TO ME * Nicholas Belton didnt come out the stage door but he apparently was meeting up with Cathryn and a bunch of the other cast after the show bc i saw him as i was walking to my uber and i just kind if stalked him a little bit bc OMG and i love that they all go out together after the show * Anthony Ramos and Jasmine Cephas Jones were at the show to see Oak and they went in the stage door and Jasmine waved right to me after she saw me waving at her. they showed up separately and i was like OMG ARE THEY OK I HOPE THEYRE OK... but its all good * and Alex Gibbson told me that he was proud of me for having read War and Peace because his copy was collecting dust in the attic somewhere and i laughed * and BRAD GIOVANINE REMEMVERD ME at the sage door he said "hey! you were here last night werent you?" and i said "YEAH!" and he said "yes, i thought i recognized you in the audience! thank you so much for coming back" and i said "I wouldnt have missed it, thank you for telling this story" and that was a definite highlight OK SO THE REASON THAT THIS SHOW IS MAGIC: so the main message of war and peace is that people are good, and redemption, for even the most base of people, is not only possible it is probable because when you break it down we are all imbued with humanity which can triumph when/if we let it. the show doesnt necessarily show that redemptive possibility because it is the part of the story where literally everyone is at their worst. BUT the acting and intention behind the blocking and the small things show that even the very worst of characters (cough anatole, cough helene, cough dolokohv), that we really shouldnt sympathize with based on their actions, are portrayed in such a way that it is IMPOSSIBLE to not see them as, at their root, good. it is impossible to not see their humanity. their weaknesses are on full display, but those weaknesses are merely weakness. they are not evil, they are a result of circumstance and upbringing. not to mention the characters we are supposed to love... they are so easy to forgive its ridiculous in conclusion: Natasha, Pierre, and The Great Comet of 1812 is the bets musical i have ever seen. I love the cast with all of my heart because of their talent and kindness, I will NEVER forget the magic that was tonight. i CANNOT believe that this show is closing. I will never see anything like it ever again and its a travesty. I hope one day there is a revival that is this good... i have hope 🙏🏻.

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samanthasroberts · 5 years

Text

The Roots of Punk Drinking Songs

The last time we looked at drinking songs we divided them into two kinds, the upbeat, celebratory hymn to Bacchus and the introspective, dirge-like ode to alcohol as (to quote Homer—the Springfield one, not the ancient Ionian) “the cause of, and solution to, all of life’s problems.”

Our choice for the greatest drinking song of them all, Roger Ferris’s “The King is Gone (So Are You)” as cut by the mighty George Jones, fell firmly in the latter category, as do many of the greatest drinking songs. But the Bacchic hymns, packed as they are with exhilaration, disorder and anarchic freedom, have their moments, too.

Many of those moments are found in a subdivision of the category, the one devoted not to praising alcoholic beverages collectively or individually or to extolling drunkenness in general, but rather to celebrating and chronicling one particular drinking session. Call it—to use German, the language of genre theory and excessive drinking—the Sauforgienepos; the “swill-session epic.”

There are countless fine examples of the genre, from the Hibernian hilarity of the Dubliners’s “Finnegan’s Wake” (as cited in our previous article) to Virginia O’Brien’s jaunty toe-tapper, “Did I Get Stinkin’ at the Club Savoy,” from the 1942 film Panama Hattie, to “Drunk,” Jimmy Liggins’s monumental military-spec floor-pounder from 1953.

My favorite example, however, is “Peter and Paul,” a 1931 rarity by the Gene Kardos Orchestra that is both hotter than a shot of upcountry corn shine and also one of the weirdest songs ever recorded. The weirdness lies not in the music itself, the instrumentation or even the performance, but rather in the fact that it was recorded at all. Read the lyrics, given here in full, and you’ll see what I mean.

One summer day it came to pass

That Peter and Paul upon an ass

Went up to town to take a glass

And bum around Jerusalem

O Jerusalem,

Jerusalem the golden!

Then Peter started falling in:

“Come on, let’s have a hooker of gin.”

“Brother,” says Paul, “it would be a sin

To liquor in Jerusalem.”

O Jerusalem, etc.

But when they got into the bar,

Says Paul, “O look, Pete, here we are—

We must have followed the Hennessy star*

Instead of that of Bethlehem.”

[*Until the 1960s, a Cognac’s age was generally indicated by the number of stars on the label—ed.]

O-o Bethlehem, etc.

The barmaid had an ankle neat;

It soon began to get to Pete,

He grabbed her right behind the seat—

The seat of old Jerusalem.

O Jerusalem, etc.

Says Peter, “Paul, I have a notion:

Time to tend to my devotion.”

Says Paul, “you’re rolling like an ocean—

You’re all wet in Jerusalem.”

O Jerusalem, etc.”

Indeed. It’s not often you encounter scurrilous fanfic about the Apostles. What gives?

About the song itself, little is known. It was copyrighted—or at least the melody was—in November, 1931, by one “F. Arnold.” The label of Kardos’s recording—the only one the song has ever received—expands that “F” to “Florence.” After extensive searching, I believe that this is also the only song Florence Arnold ever copyrighted or published.

As to who she was, besides an impressive wiseass, I cannot say. There was a Florence Arnold, alias “the Irish nightingale” and “the blonde pony,” who sang and danced in vaudeville in the 1900s and 1910s and then married Charles Koster, the king of American circus publicists. Koster was a famous wiseass himself, and it wouldn’t be surprising if he married another one, but beyond that there’s no proof we’re talking about the same Florence Arnold or even if that was the composer of the song’s real name.

We know a little more about the song’s performers. Yugin “Gene” Kardos (1899-1980) is not one of the great names in jazz. He was neither a paradigm-shifting soloist nor a brilliant composer nor a flamboyant, larger-than-life personality. He was a Hungarian Jewish kid born and raised on the then-tough Upper East Side of Manhattan who lived with his parents. He talked with a thick, dese-dem-and-dose New York accent and had worked as a bookkeeper. But he could play the violin and the saxophone and he knew how to lead a band; how to keep it together; how to focus its energies; how to make sure everyone zigged when they were supposed to zig, zagged when they were supposed to zag, and went BRAP! BRAP! BRAP! with their horns precisely when they were supposed to go BRAP! BRAP! BRAP!

On the strength of that, Kardos got his Orchestra—any band too big to fit in the back of a taxi was an “orchestra” back then—a long-running gig at the Gloria Palast, a German dance hall on East 86th St., a contract with Victor records and a weekly half hour on national radio. In the depths of the Depression, that wasn’t nothing—indeed, those were the kinds of things that made most normal bands who had them famous.

That didn’t happen with these guys, although at first glance, Kardos’s band seemed perfectly normal. In its instrumentation, it was the standard eleven-piece dance band of its day. Two trumpets, a couple of guys who doubled on alto sax and clarinet, a tenor sax, a trombone, a rhythm section—banjo, tuba, piano and drums—and, of course, Kardos, who mostly waved a baton.

Most of the band’s material was pretty standard, too, at least on record: the way things worked, the A&R guy gave you the song and you played it, and most of those songs were corny, “synco-pep” (as it was sometimes called) dance numbers with novelty “vocal refrain.” For records, Victor even teamed the band up with Dick Robertson, their A-list vocal refrain-suppliers and a star in his own right.

It should have worked. I can’t say why it didn’t, but I think the recording session Gene and the boys held on October 23, 1931; the one where they cut “Peter and Paul,” gives us a pretty good clue, as does a band photo taken eight days later. The photo, which can be seen here, was admittedly taken on Halloween. But the band, although dressed in suits like everyone back then, come off as a bunch of stone punks.

One guy’s drinking a beer, a couple appear to be munching on sandwiches, all are disheveled and there is a disconcerting number of flat, “yeah, so?” stares into the camera, including from Kardos. The guy next to him, trumpeter Sid Peltyn, who appears drunk (and he’s not the only one) is pointing a toy gun at his head and leaning on a cane. He had the cane because he got shot in the leg during an affray at the Gloria Palast a few weeks before. Yeah.

During the session, they cut five songs, four of which were released. The one that wasn’t was a ditty called “Sweet Violets,” a novelty number where the verses set the listener up to expect the word “shit” only to have it replaced with “sweet violets.” Not funny, but indicative of the way things would go that day. I suspect the regular A&R guy, who was supposed to keep a tight leash on the proceedings, was hungover or out with the flu that day. In any case, the band did at least plod its way through an utterly forgettable ballad of the most commercial sort. But that left three songs: a college number, a thing called “You’ve Got to Sell It,” and our biblical Sauforgienepos.

They play “a Hot Dog, a Blanket, and You,” the college number, for laughs, throwing in a couple of made-up college cheers, one in a ridiculous falsetto (“Riddledy tiddledy tootsy toot / We are the boys of the institute / We are not rough, we are not tough, / But we are detoimined”). The other cheer, however, gives a clue to the amount of fuck you that the band, made up of nine Jews and two Italians, had in reserve:

Ikey, Moses, Jake and Sam

We are the boys that don’t eat ham

Baseball, football, swimming in a tank

We’ve got the money but we keep it in the bank!

At this point, Kardos closes things off by adding, in his East Side honk, “The only way to make us cheer / Is to give us back our prewar beer.”

“You’ve Got to Sell It” is a fast-tempo flag waver, as they used to be called, with the band riffing while Kardos explains the realities of the band business (“Now most people don’t know a good band when they hear it, good or bad / They most always say it’s the last woid when it’s really very sad … I’ve hoid some coahny bands who knock ‘em off theah seats / And I’ve seen Paderewskis kicked out in the streets”).

And finally, “Peter and Paul.” You don’t need electric guitars, leather jackets and bangs to play punk rock. With the right attitude, a mess of brass and reeds, a piano, a banjo and a drum kit will make plenty of noise. The blisteringly fast double time here, the chords punched out at maximum volume, the blaring trumpet solo, the shouted choruses, the scurrilous, even blasphemous subject matter, the drinking and the sex—pure punk. The Ramones didn’t come from nowhere.

Source: http://allofbeer.com/the-roots-of-punk-drinking-songs/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2019/04/20/the-roots-of-punk-drinking-songs/

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adambstingus · 5 years

Text

The Roots of Punk Drinking Songs

One summer day it came to pass

That Peter and Paul upon an ass

Went up to town to take a glass

And bum around Jerusalem

O Jerusalem,

Jerusalem the golden!

Then Peter started falling in:

“Come on, let’s have a hooker of gin.”

“Brother,” says Paul, “it would be a sin

To liquor in Jerusalem.”

O Jerusalem, etc.

But when they got into the bar,

Says Paul, “O look, Pete, here we are—

We must have followed the Hennessy star*

Instead of that of Bethlehem.”

[*Until the 1960s, a Cognac’s age was generally indicated by the number of stars on the label—ed.]

O-o Bethlehem, etc.

The barmaid had an ankle neat;

It soon began to get to Pete,

He grabbed her right behind the seat—

The seat of old Jerusalem.

O Jerusalem, etc.

Says Peter, “Paul, I have a notion:

Time to tend to my devotion.”

Says Paul, “you’re rolling like an ocean—

You’re all wet in Jerusalem.”

O Jerusalem, etc.”

Indeed. It’s not often you encounter scurrilous fanfic about the Apostles. What gives?

Ikey, Moses, Jake and Sam

We are the boys that don’t eat ham

Baseball, football, swimming in a tank

We’ve got the money but we keep it in the bank!

At this point, Kardos closes things off by adding, in his East Side honk, “The only way to make us cheer / Is to give us back our prewar beer.”

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/the-roots-of-punk-drinking-songs/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/184327805242

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allofbeercom · 5 years

Text

The Roots of Punk Drinking Songs

One summer day it came to pass

That Peter and Paul upon an ass

Went up to town to take a glass

And bum around Jerusalem

O Jerusalem,

Jerusalem the golden!

Then Peter started falling in:

“Come on, let’s have a hooker of gin.”

“Brother,” says Paul, “it would be a sin

To liquor in Jerusalem.”

O Jerusalem, etc.

But when they got into the bar,

Says Paul, “O look, Pete, here we are—

We must have followed the Hennessy star*

Instead of that of Bethlehem.”

[*Until the 1960s, a Cognac’s age was generally indicated by the number of stars on the label—ed.]

O-o Bethlehem, etc.

The barmaid had an ankle neat;

It soon began to get to Pete,

He grabbed her right behind the seat—

The seat of old Jerusalem.

O Jerusalem, etc.

Says Peter, “Paul, I have a notion:

Time to tend to my devotion.”

Says Paul, “you’re rolling like an ocean—

You’re all wet in Jerusalem.”

O Jerusalem, etc.”

Indeed. It’s not often you encounter scurrilous fanfic about the Apostles. What gives?

Ikey, Moses, Jake and Sam

We are the boys that don’t eat ham

Baseball, football, swimming in a tank

We’ve got the money but we keep it in the bank!

At this point, Kardos closes things off by adding, in his East Side honk, “The only way to make us cheer / Is to give us back our prewar beer.”

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/the-roots-of-punk-drinking-songs/

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born-of-silence-blog · 7 years

Text

5/11/17

All prime numbers. Fitting. Most of this is going to sound absolutely ridiculous, but I need to put it somewhere. Why not here? I'm not here anymore. What I mean by that is, I'm not connecting with anything anymore. Not my passions, not my aspirations, or friends, or family, or my significant other. I mean, I'm still connecting with them on the level that I can maintain *some* relationships, but I'm not connecting as deeply as I once did. I feel distant from everyone, and it's not at the fault of me isolating myself almost entirely. I felt distant even before I sought to find somewhere to be all on my lonesome for a while every day. I feel mentally and emotionally distant. I don't understand social queues anymore, and perhaps that's not so unusual--but I hardly even feel human. There it is, the crazy. I know, I know, "Here we go, again." But, hear me out on this one. I've always felt distant from the human race as a species. I look at everyone else around me, and all I feel is this deep, radiating repulsion. Not to say that I feel I'm better than the other members of my species--because I don't, frankly I think I'm significantly worse, but that's beside the point--I just don't connect with them on any level other than genetic make-up. I'm human because I biologically am human. But, mentally? I've thought since childhood that I was something else. Of course, I don't know what, exactly, to attribute that to, but perhaps I'll find it, one day. Now, my real problem is the way that not feeling human makes me feel about being...human. Personally, I feel disgusted every time I look in the mirror. Sure, it could be my insecurities about literally every part of my body driving me to feel perpetually grossed-out; or it could be my abhorrence for the being that I am: human. This in itself is unnatural. I'm no scientist, or psychologist, but I don't really think that's normal. However, what I DO know isn't normal is the way other people make me feel about existing. There's this delusion that I have, and it's honestly ridiculous, but it's there. I'm going to explain two specific instances where this delusion took over my mind: 1.) I was sitting in Pre Calculus the other day, and students a grade below me were sharing what they scored on the SAT. One got a 1350. Another got a 1460. And the third that I remember got a 1250. The highest possible is a 1600. I have this inferiority complex, so when I heard those three announce their scores, I felt unbelievably inadequate. Sure, good for them for achieving great scores, but, damn, does my 1200 not seem that impressive anymore. A self-centered thought, but I suppose I'm a self-centered person. Whatever. 2.) In Wind Ensemble, I do believe earlier that same day, my director invited me up to the podium to lead the band through warm-up. I conducted the Alma Mater twice through, as instructed, with fairly decent form (I may be self-centered, but I know I'm not perfect), and stepped off the podium to sit back down and tune my clarinet. My director then told everyone he would be having me conduct the Alma Mater on our final concert of the year, as just a heads up for everyone in the room. The trumpet section, who for whatever reason seem to have a problem with me, proceeded to whisper amongst themselves, asking why the other two drum majors weren't conducting a song on the concert, and why he chose me to conduct, why I got special privileges, etc. they made a comment about how I'm one of his "favorites", which, I will admit that I am. I know that I am, but that's not why he chose me. He chose me because I was the head drum major this year and he wants to make it a tradition that the head drum major each year conducts the Alma Mater on the spring concert. Not a difficult concept. Now, the fact that they opposed the idea of me conducting on the concert didn't bother me. It was the fact that they didn't think I was deserving enough to do it. As if I've not worked SO hard these past four years to get where I am today. As if my work doesn't matter and doesn't play a part in me getting to do special things, and the things I'm allowed to do are all because I'm a "favorite". Perhaps I am as inadequate as I think I am. And I don't mean that to be dramatic. I actually do mean that. I've never thought I was good enough for anything, and those occurrences made me feel unbelievably mediocre. I've recently come to the realization that I'm truly less amazing as I once thought I was. I started my Senior year of high school as this confident, outspoken, in-your-face leader, and I'm ending it as an insecure, broken, mess of a failure. I tried so hard and it wasn't good enough. Not for them, and not for me. I had purpose at the beginning of this year, then I realized that that purpose would get me nowhere, because it only means something in high school. I realized recently--very recently--that I am for SURE going to go nowhere with my life after I graduate. There's nowhere for me to go. My aspirations are all too far out of reach. A music education degree? You don't have the drive, even if you love it. Cosmetology? You're skilled, but not THAT skilled. Writing? Just look at this blog--you're far from good enough. Psychology? Yeah right, kid, keep dreaming. What about philosophy? You're as deep as a drop of water on a countertop. I'm not lying to myself anymore. That's what this is. I'm being honest with myself and I'm not sugar coating my situation anymore. I can't really be whatever I want to be. I'm not *good* at anything. I'm barely mediocre at a bunch of things, sure. But good at them? No. Not at all. I kid myself a lot though, so perhaps I'm good at that. I'm good at pretending my life is worth living, even though I know I'm not going to do anything useful with it. Everything I do, from participating in conversation to attempting to play my various instruments, is mediocre. I'm not going to amount to anything. Being that much of a failure really, truly makes me wish I could just stop breathing. And if I'm being brutally honest, if it wouldn't hurt the very few people that care about me, I really would kill myself. Not just because I'm a failure, but because I know that everyone in my life is slowly leaving because they're realizing that I'm really not anything special or worth being around. And I don't blame them.

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hauntedladycherryblossom-blog · 7 years

Text

Listening Post #4

Confusing Tears for the End of Days

The first movement is a stark, bleak combination of all four voices - the cello, the violin, the clarinet, and the piano. What makes this movement so interesting is the superposition of the clarinet and the violin. While the cello and the piano are both playing they are mainly background supporters, which we can see mainly by the length of their notes in comparison to the violin and the clarinet. Also, their lower registers place them in near silent contrast to the violin and clarinet making the clarinet and the violin seem more out of place. Because the two parts don’t align whatsoever “Crystal Liturgy” creates the illusion of chaos and a hectic reality without boisterous overbearing sound. This idea is also produced by lacking the qualities we would traditionally associate with “music.” It kind of gives the listener a bit of a headache which helps create the sense of confusion that Messiaen is seemingly attempting to produce.

The second movement starts of just as bleak sounding as the first movement with rapid chord progression by the piano, but quickly demonstrates a more typical “musical” sound. We hear a bit of fugue between the violin and the clarinet very early on, but as the piece moves forward it quickly slows down and the clarinet mostly fades away. Then we move forward as if we are slowly, but surely rolling down into a dark pit as the dynamics are tiered to lower and softer volumes. As the volume decreases so does the sharp tone of the violin until the cello can barely even be heard and the rhythmic padding of the piano becomes almost non-existent and all we hear is the quiet cry of the violin. The second movement ends with a screaming dynamic change from all four voices as if the listener was rolling down a hill and then… Messiaen dropped them off a cliff. It is violent rapid and expressive.

“Abyss of the Birds” is an oddity to me. It clearly is meant to say something but what exactly that is I am not entirely sure. The beginning of the movement is rather plane. It seems as if a clarinet is just warming up. This is until the clarinet has its own steamroller of sorts and starts out even more quiet than it began and crescendos all on the same note. Then each subsequent measure line displays more vigor and hoping about the notes, until once again the clarinetist needs a breather and he begins the steamroller all over again. This movement seems to be all over the place, but the fact that the clarinet is unaccompanied establishes a lonely, desolate quality, like a child wondering through the forest. This makes sense with the circumstances under which the piece was written., as Messiaen and the rest of the quartet were POW under the German army. There is little progression of ideas, more just sad “spewing” of notes that are both high, low, long, and rapid. The clarinet is sharp sounding in all cases, but the quiet nature of the sound leads the listener to listen carefully despite sounding mostly nonsensical.

“Interlude” is actually super frickin’ cool, because we get a bit of a break from the confusion that the first three movements presented us with. It actually sounds like dancelike music. The only really confusing parts were these runs that the clarinet had that were first heard in the “Abyss of the Birds”. The movement has several sections of unison between the clarinet, violin, and the cello. The part that is most appealing is still the maintained tension in the movement, this time created by the call and answer between the clarinet as one voice and then the cello and violin as another. They finally come together in a rapid, equally as stark section toward the end. Here all contrast is felt in the rhythmic style, at one moment long and flowing and the next detached and staccatoed.

The fifth movement, “Praise to the Eternity of Jesus,” is just the cello and piano, which I find the most beautiful of all the movements. There isn’t much of a melodic directive per say but you can hear the passion behind the cello especially in this movement. The piano is merely just accompanying the cello on a journey. It was about halfway through this movement that I began to think each instrument represented a group or persons experience, because each instrument keeps the same style throughout the quartet. For the cello, in this movement there isn’t always an underlying beat, but it’s playing is long and sad with a bit of vibrato. The piano dictates the dynamics of the section and as the too get higher the music gets louder. Again, the sense of confusion is maintained in that it is difficult to follow the direction of the notes. When you think the cello is going to go up it may go down or vice versa.

The sixth movement is in unison between all four instruments. It demonstrates syncopated rhythms and rapidly changing patterns. This one returns a bit to each of the ideas already mentioned but for the most part the movement says something different because of the tonal quality created by all instruments expressing the same idea together. It does not embody loneness the same way that the other movements do. Rather, this movement seems to suggest collective despair! Yay!

“Tangle of Rainbows, for the Angel Announcing the End of Time” is mainly about the cello again, accompanied by the piano, as it was in the fifth movement, but only at the beginning. After some mumbo jumbo and hullabaloo, it becomes about the violin and the clarinet, also accompanied by the piano. In the sections where all four instruments are participating it is rapid, jumbled, and confusion, but when there are two or three it flows easily and peacefully. It is as if three is a party, four is a crowd. This really helps drive home the idea of the instruments as characters, because in the times when all four parts are involved it is almost as if the piano is unsure of who to assist by accompanying, so instead it defaults to wandering up and down the staff on its own. All instruments are a part of a “family” but the characters operate on their own.

The 8th, and final movement is just left to the violin (and yeah the piano but it really does almost nothing). It is reflective, slow, and quiet. From the violin we see that notes mostly get higher and higher as we progress through the piece. Naturally the dynamics follow with a slow but deliberate crescendo. The piece finishes by the two instruments fading out into thought provoking silence together.

Part 2

Movement 2

“Abyss of the Birds” closely matches Monday’s reading in that it was very reminiscent of the sound birds would make in the morning, which exactly matches Pasquier’s description of what the group mostly bonded over. While the clarinet starts off quiet it slowly but surely increases in volume until we reach a point with no clear pattern, varying rhythmic ideas, low notes, high notes, and generally just a chaotic combination of many ideas. This reminds me of the birds in the morning and of what Pasquier describes. The first bird starts off quietly and it progressively gets more rapid and “messy” when all the birds join in. When the clarinet begins it’s crescendo again it signifies a new day. The tone also seems to match what we would expect of a caged bird, which in a sense Messiaen is now that he has been captured by the German army. His homeland, France, seems out of sight, so he, as a bird, is calling out in search of help. Symbolically he may be represented by the first bird, that is alone.

Movement 7

Messiaen’s description seems to match the movement almost to perfection. When we think of “blue-orange lava” or “swords of fire” what comes to mind is vibrant and perplexing, but as Messiaen seems to suggest it is meant to do, the colors of the rainbow are tangled in a “roundabout compenetration of superhuman sounds and colors.” This seems to suggest that what he experiences is in a sense beautiful, but it is so fast, perplexing and “tangled” that his experience is actually depressing. He can now longer enjoy the beauty of the world he lives in because his experiences (represented by individual colors) are sloshed about into a mess of a whole, so that one cannot focus on the few bits of beauty that actually exist in life. This makes sense in relation to the music because it is hard to see a clear path in the music. This listener is always left asking, “What note is coming next,” similarly to how Messiaen would be asking of himself and his own situation. The sharpness of the cello’s sound is also characteristic to this symbolism in that it demonstrates the pain that one experiencing such confusion might feel.

Movement 8

The second movement is to drive home thanks to God for sacrificing himself to the pain of being human despite the fact that he doesn’t need to, and although he will live eternally by visiting Earth and creating people he will forever be burdened with the knowledge that he created something so, in some peoples’ eyes, terrible – people. While we can only suffer through the pain of life for a limited amount of time he must always reflect upon the atrocities he help create. The violin solo is meant to thank him more than praise him, for in the higher register of the violin it is more symbolic of a weeping grateful person.

My Perception of the Work

Overall I find the story of this work’s production interesting and compelling. While the work on its own seems a bit bland and strange to me, once we begin to speculate on the nature of its creation it does develop a divine beauty that causes reflection and a humble look into my own situation. The pain felt in the music is relatable, but simultaneously foreign, which allows me to more heavily consider the burden others feel by life alone. The story that gets us to “The Quartet for the End of Days” is painful, chaotic, and scary, but it is those glimpses of hope, like Akoka or Pasquier’s involvement, that make living worthwhile for Messiaen. Overall, the thought and symbolism behind the work is very compelling to me.

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tialovestelevision · 7 years

Text

Straight Trumpet

Back to Sound! Euphonium for a little… well, Sound! Euphonium. We just finished the auditions, where Hazuki failed to qualify for the competition band and Reina was given the solo trumpet part over the far more popular senior member Kaori. There’s going to be fallout, here.

1. Previously On, then the opening credits. It’s a little odd to still see Aoi in the opening credits, since she was basically written out of the show after her storyline. Buffy and Angel tend to pretty much excise all images of departed characters from opening sequences.

2. A sempai of Kumiko’s is yelling at her, because Kumiko made the competition and she did not. I’m not sure who it was… the scene was filmed in pretty deep shadow. She blames Kumiko, which is both irrational and oddly natural - a year ago, under the old seniority-based rules, she would have been guaranteed a slot while Kumiko would have had to compete for the remaining slots after all interested second- and third-years got theirs. But now there are auditions, and meritocracy sucks if you ain’t meritorious. Kumiko ruminates about this while she is emptying her spit valve, but Natsuki, who also failed to make the competition team and is Kumiko’s sempai, approaches her and says she wants to talk. Natsuki is smiling. She offers a treat, then Kumiko agrees to meet her and Natsuki leaves. Title card.

2a. I just rewatched that scene. It’s not a scene set in the present… there’s two details that point that out, both are really obvious, and I somehow managed to miss them both. Kumiko and the other girl are wearing middle school uniforms, and there’s a sign declaring it to be middle school. Oops. That reframes the whole scene - it isn’t about Kumiko being chewed out now; it’s explaining why she’s worried that Natsuki will be angry with her for making the competition band. The scene with Natsuki happens in the present, though - the flashback ends just before Kumiko cleaning out her spit valve. Now returning you to the original viewing of the episode.

3. Band practice, with the new, leaner concert band. They got the tempo right, which is important because if they go over they’ll just be cut off, which sounds like a death sentence for one’s dreams of a good placement. Taki asks them to bring blankets next time. Hazuki is asking about why, and also asks Kumiko to join her and Midori for sweets. Natsuki interrupts to say that she has a claim on Kumiko’s afternoon, and is still smiling. After Natsuki leaves, Kumiko mutters that Natsuki’s smile scares her; Hazuki points out that she said that out loud. Kaori’s fangirl is staring at Kaori, who is helping Haruka with her tempo changes. Kaori gets called over to help someone else. Reina passes the fangirl and tells her good luck. The fangirl stares after her like she has no idea what to do with that. The fangirl then goes and finds the notes Kaori wrote in her sheet music and is happy. The horns are gossiping about the trumpets.

4. Natsuki got Kumiko a milkshake. It’s strawberry. Natsuki likes chocolate. Natsuki brings up the audition; Kumiko immediately explodes with apologies. Natsuki says that she has only been playing the euphonium for a year. and is neither surprised nor upset that she failed the audition and Kumiko made it. Natsuki talks about how motivated she was to practice by Taki, and that Taki asked her to audition with parts she hadn’t practiced. She’s happy that Kumiko got the spot. She takes Kumiko’s sheet music, and writes on it, “Go for the gold! Let’s play together next year!” That’s painfully sweet. Natsuki is happy, but also pokes a little fun at Kumiko’s tendency to be polite and to cry.

5. Kaori’s fangirl - Yuuko! Yuuko! - is at the playground with Kaori, telling her about something. I think she thinks she knows why Taki picked Reina over Kaori for the solo part? Kaori doesn’t think whatever Yuuko thinks is going on is going on. Yuuko disagrees, but Kaori asks her to tell others not to spread whatever rumor it is that Yuuko has picked up on. Yuuko begs Kaori not to give up, and points out that this is Kaori’s last competition. “Your dream… your dream has to come true! Otherwise…” Then Kaori thanks her. I can see why Kaori is so popular… there’s a very compelling sort of serenity to her. She’d be a comfortable person to be near.

6. The band is laying out blankets on the floor. The reason is because the blankets will absorb sound, so they will have to play both louder and better to make it sound good with the blankets down. Why do that? Because the size of the concert hall for the competition will also deaden their sound. Now they’re going to practice. Yuuko says she has a question, and Taki allows her to ask it. Yuuko: “Is it true you knew Kousaka Reina before this?” Kaori looks stricken, and Reina twitches. The rest of the room gasps. Taki asks what Yuuko hopes to accomplish by asking that; Yuuko stomps over to Taki and accuses him of playing favorites. She demands the truth. Taki says he never played favorites, but that he did know Reina. Their fathers were friends. Yuuko asks why he didn’t reveal that before; he says there was no need to. Taki, here, is correct. He really shouldn’t be talking about it now, either. Yuuko starts to say something else, but Reina taps a window to get her attention and tells her to stop insulting Taki, and that Yuuko knows very well why she was chosen. It was because she is better than Kaori. Kaori tries to defuse it, but Yuuko stomps over to Reina to yell at her. Natsuki tells Yuuko to shut up, then Kaori yells at everyone to stop. She’s crying now. Reina: “If you’re going to complain, do it when you’ve surpassed me.” Burn. Inappropriately timed, Reina, but still burn. Reina leaves the room, and Kumiko chases after her. Midori looks after Kumiko, worried, but Taki tells the remaining students to finish setting up so they can start practice.

7. Kumiko catches up to Reina. Reina is annoyed, then stops walking, inhales a huge breath, and gives a wordless scream of rage. “So annoying. So annoying. Holy crap, what’s wrong with her? She can hardly even play! What’s her problem?” Kumiko starts to giggle a little, and Reina asks why. Kumiko says it’s because she thought Reina was depressed… and doesn’t finish the sentence because Reina throws her arms around her neck and hugs her. Reina asks, “Do you think I’m wrong?” Kumiko says she doesn’t.

8. Kumiko and Reina are outside, and Reina is giving backstory. Reina’s father was a trumpet player, and Taki’s was a conductor, so that’s how they met. Reina found out that Taki was coming to Kitauji, so she turned down an invitation to a more prestigious school to go there. Kumiko expresses surprise. Reina: “What could I do? I like Taki-sensei. Not in a ‘like’ kind of way. I mean in a ‘love’ kind of way.” Then she gives Kumiko a very vulnerable look. Kumiko asks about the word “love,” but Reina says not to repeat it because it’s embarrassing. Taki doesn’t know how she feels, and she says he’d never favor her in an audition. She’s upset that Yuuko would start complaining about Taki now. Kumiko agrees, and also thinks that Reina is cute. Reina calls Kumiko awful. Kumiko asks if Reina would ever give up her solo; Reina says no. “I’d probably just double down. That’s what it takes to become special.” Kumiko: “That’s you.” She then tells the audience that at the time, they didn’t know how arduous it could be to remain strong. We see Kaori looking out the window.

9. The stories about Taki and Reina continue. Reina’s father is being added to them. Taki is staying silent, which makes matters worse. Midori thinks it might be necessary for Reina to give up the solo for the good of the band. Hazuki disagrees, because Reina didn’t do anything wrong. Hazuki: “What does Kumiko think?” Midori: “After all, it’s about Kousaka-san…”

10. Teacher-student meeting between Kumiko and Michie. Michie tells Kumiko to relax, and asks her how things are going, then about her goals, which she has none of, so she should study hard. Especially math. Michie tells her not to get too distracted with band.

11. There are horn players jumping into the blankets. Taki comes in and sees them. He doesn’t approve. He asks why they are packing up; a student says they’re not, they’re just moving the blankets out of the way during break because it’s hot. Taki gets angry. Very angry. He yells that he didn’t say they could tear it down, and demands - politely - that they put it back. Then less politely. The students are starting to reassemble the room, but they look listless. He asks one what’s wrong; she says it’s nothing. Yuuko is sitting on the floor.

12. Back to sectionals, because things are too fraught for ensemble play. The horns and clarinets are unfocused, and the trumpets are a mess. Haruka has been trying to talk people down, but nobody trusts Taki. Natsuki complains that if they get Bronze again, there will be no point in her and Hazuki having failed the auditions. Midori and Hazuki want Asuka to fix things, but Natsuki doesn’t think she could. Gogo says he doesn’t think it’d be the same for the competition. Kumiko is asked to go speak with Asuka about it, because Asuka respects Kumiko. She’s been drafted. She uses “suckered into this” to describe it, then she hears someone playing trumpet. Sounds like Reina, but it’s Kaori. Asuka shows up behind Kumiko, startling her. “Caught you looking,” she says. Asuka is unsurprised Kumiko found the good stuff. Asuka talks a bit about Kaori, saying that she’s not giving up, but also not trying to garner sympathy. Kumiko asks Asuka what she thinks about the audition between Kaori and Reina. Asuka says she can’t answer that, because she’s the vice president and will stay neutral. Kumiko gets Flat Kumiko Look on and asks Asuka for her personal opinion, off the record. Asuka asks if Kumiko can keep it secret. Kumiko agrees to, and Asuka says she doesn’t care. Kumiko can’t tell if Asuka is telling the truth or not. She then runs into Haruka, who asks for Asuka. Kumiko tells Haruka that Asuka went back, and Haruka looks out the window to see Asuka talking to Kaori. Haruka focuses a moment, slaps herself lightly to build up determination. “You’ll have to do this by yourself, Haruka.” Do what?

13. The staff office! Taki is making copies. Michie asks him about the competition. She’s being nice. That makes me nervous. Michie knew Taki’s father. Then his copies finish.

14. Haruka is addressing the band. Two horns are talking off to the side, but Haruka actually calls them out for ignoring her. Haruka talks about the rumors, and that they’re doing damage. “Forget gold. I don’t even know if we can get silver like this.” She says there were no problems with the auditions, but tells people not to talk behind the leadership’s backs. If they have an issue, they can raise their hands. “Who has a problem with the auditions?” Yuuko’s hand goes up first, then a few other hands go up. I don’t think a majority, but a significant number. Taki has shown up at the door, and he looks stricken for a moment, but gets that off his face when Haruka addresses him. “You’re all quiet today,” he says. “Why the hands?” Yuuko immediately tells him. He comes in and says he has an announcement. He’s rented a concert hall for them to practice in. While there, he’s also willing to give second shots at auditions. He asks those who are interested in further auditions to raise their hands, and they’ll get a second before the whole band, so there’s no questions. Kaori stands up for a second audition for the solo part. Yuuko is crying, and Taki tells Kaori and Reina that they will have a second audition for the solo part. Episode end.

Overall: Reina and Taki - and, for that matter, Kumiko, though she is more hesitant to indulge it - are disruptors. They enter established systems and change them. As I talked about last time I did Sound! Euphonium, that casts them as villains in Japanese culture. In America, we love disruptors; Japan rather fears them. Both attitudes have their advantages (America gets Steve Jobs) and terrifying flaws (America gets Donald Trump). It does, however, make being a disruptor in Japan a difficult life.

Which is likely why Kumiko doesn’t show her disruptive side all that much.

I feel like I should talk about Reina’s feelings toward Taki, though I don’t much want to. They are, especially to a Western audience, one of the more uncomfortable things in the show, rating right alongside the utter dystopia that is Kumiko’s home life. It’s… not abnormal, in Japan, to have a crush on a teacher. It’s not even abnormal to express it to one’s friends, or to, in a moment of extreme emotion, even to the teacher (though having a moment of extreme emotion in public at all is a bit fraught, using it to express a crush on a teacher is not much more fraught a thing to do than to, say, burst out crying or eat a cake). But these are childhood and teenage crushes, and to let them linger past the acceptable age is abnormal. And a teacher allowing said crush to be acted on, or encouraging it, would be… I don’t think criminal the way it is in the United States, but definitely a massive breach of both social etiquette and trust. It would be a cause for shame, and shame is powerful. The intensity of Reina’s feelings would mark her out as strange, but the intensity of Reina’s feelings on everything she chooses to care about at all (Taki, Kumiko, the trumpet) are quite strange. Reina is a toweringly passionate girl.

We’re moving into the home stretch of season 1 here. There are two more regular episodes left, plus a special episode about the girls who failed the audition for the competition band. Stick with me; I won’t steer you wrong.

#sound! euphonium #sound euphonium season 1 #straight trumpet #season 1

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