#guitar soli

[dustedmagazine]

Joseph Allred — Folk Guitar (Feeding Tube)

Where does Joseph Allred reside? Musically or geographically, that question has had many answers, none of them wrong. They were born and raised in Tennessee, and currently live in Crawford TN, but if you know them through the records they have made, you’re also acquainted with the extracurricular efforts of a Bostonian graduate student of philosophy and theology. Although Allred is most commonly connected to American primitive guitar, a title they’ve accepted when others have shunned, they are actually a multi-instrumentalist and singer whose records have also tapped into veins of rural mysticism, internationally oriented inquisitiveness and idiosyncratically reinterpreted shoegazing. Their last two LPs were virtual and actual ensemble efforts loaded up with electric instrumentation, but Folk Guitar returns the art of the solo acoustic guitar.

But what kind of folk is Allred talking about here? Not the stuff they might have heard so described on the radio when they were growing up during the last couple decades of the 20th century, nor the actual folk traditions of rural Tennessee. Waltz rhythms present repeatedly, so maybe Allred’s playing for folks who like to dance? The precise, delicate picking on the first tune, “Lord Lucy’s Protector,” sounds like a tribute to John Renbourn. “Hesperis” is named for a flower that blooms in Anatolian regions, but it is likewise filtered through a consciousness of the idiosyncratic directions that the musicians associated with the British folk revival pursued after the boom went bust. The 12-string piece “The Star Against Heaven” uses the tremolo studies once essayed by James Blackshaw, a Briton of a subsequent generation, as a push-off point for more winding explorations. And the unhurried reverie of “Their Silvery Light” feels like a hymn of quiet praise to the vibrations of steel strings, wood and the air that moves around them.

So, maybe Folk Guitar is just a coverall term, an explanation Allred might give to someone who saw them toting their instrument case down the street and asks them what they play. After all, what you call it doesn’t matter as much as what it does for you. Reflective but not overburdened with darkness, purposeful in its perambulations, this music is centering stuff. Put it on and be where you need to be.

Bill Meyer

[aquariumdrunkard]

The Gospel Of John Fahey’s Christmas Soli

As the Turkey-fare winds down and the boxes of Christmas decor make their way from the basement, a transition is needed. Ringing in the holiday season in subtlety requires a look no further than America’s finest composer and most innovative maestro of steel string. With a discography expanding beyond 40 titles, it’s possible to overlook the holiday offerings among masterworks like Fare Forward Voyagers, The Yellow Princess, and those first five Takoma releases. Smack dab in the middle of John Fahey’s first decade shifting around the tectonic plates of traditional music came The New Possibility.

[suddenmovements]

The Last Border (1993, dir. Mika Kaurismäki)

[krispyweiss]

Soundly Spiritual: John Fahey - “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing / O, Come all Ye Faithful” (1968)

Even without the words, John Fahey’s medley of “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing / O, Come all Ye Faithful” is something of a religious experience for guitar enthusiasts.

As released on The New Possibility: John Fahey's Guitar Soli Christmas Album in 1968, these deeply Christian songs are simply aural celebrations. Set to uptempo, fingerpicked arrangements, they dance out of the speaker with unspoken joy and good tidings.

Aliens who didn’t know the melodies from humans would have a hard time not moving whatever they have for limbs if they encountered this gem of a pairing.

For those of us who do know, it’s even more remarkable. For Fahey has managed to make these deeply reverent songs an absolute blast without resorting to blasphemy.

It’s a Christmas miracle!

Soundly Spiritual is a periodic feature that appears the first Sunday of most months on Sound Bites - the blog six people read religiously.

12/4/22

[imagine-darksiders]

On the Ropes, ch. 24 - Facing Freedom

Fnaf Security Breach.

Montgomery Gator X Reader.

Latibule - 'A small hiding place. A place of safety and comfort. A different home from the one you come from.'

-------

It’s dark in the lonely stairwell at the top of Fazbear’s Megaplex.

Dark. And cramped. Small. Certainly, too small to comfortably admit an animatronic gator with shoulder struts almost an equal width to the meagre space it provides, who nonetheless has managed to wedge himself into the area meant solely for humans, his crimson optics kicking out just enough light to illuminate the sign that’s nailed to the door in front of him.

Wires prickling with anticipation, Montgomery half shutters his optics, glaring hard at the sign as though he can intimidate it in much the same way it intimidates him.

‘NO EXIT,’ it mocks in bold, red letters, ‘ROOF ACCESS ONLY.’

It isn’t so much the sign itself that unsettles him, more-so what lays beyond it.

And what lays beyond it is nothing more mundane than a roof.

The Plex’s Roof, which leads to the Outside.

Montgomery knows tragic little of the world outside the bounds of this building. The Plex itself is his world, always has been, and until this very night, he’s never once had any inclination to explore beyond its encompassing walls.

Why would he want to? Everything he needs is within - His charging station, his bass guitar, his golf course…

It was only a few hours ago, after you clambered into that taxi and sped from his sight, that something occurred to the gator, something that was immediately embarrassing to admit, yet equally impossible to ignore.

As it turns out, there is one thing on the Outside that he can’t get in here.

There are rules at Fazbear’s Megaplex. Those that pertain to the guests, and those that the animatronics are beholden to. Guests may not enter the premises after the front gates are locked, and the animatronics may not leave the premises at all.

It’s a good thing then, Monty supposes, that the rules were intended to be followed by those animatronics for whom rules are paramount. Bots like Freddy and the Daycare Attendant, for instance, whose watertight programming leaves very little room to stray from the parameters of their protocols.

It’s how they were designed, after all. Most especially the bear. Freddy was always meant to be an unwavering and infallible role-model for children to aspire to – someone who says please and thank you, who never raises his voice, or snaps his teeth… Someone who follows the rules… Freddy’s a good example.

Sometimes Monty wonders if he wasn’t meant to be anything other than the bad example. The band’s own black sheep dressed up to look like a gator.

Have to have Bad so you know what Good looks like, right?

‘Don’t be like Montgomery, kids. He’s a rule-breaker.’

The animatronic’s optics droop for a moment, falling away from the sign in front of him, plastic brows slotting together to send a bleak frown at the doorhandle instead.

Well… Whether his design was intentional or not, he’s glad the mechanics got lazy with his programming, mostly because it means he has the processing power to override the meagre safeguards that were put into place to keep him inside the Megaplex.

Theoretically, he could have left whenever he wanted to. He just… didn’t want to.

Until tonight.

Green-tipped fingers slide through the darkness and alight upon the silver, lever handle, hesitating there for a few seconds whilst the gator boots his processor into gear, and not for the first time, ponders over what he’s about to do.

The prospect has been buzzing through his joints every hour since you left, rendering him restless on his axis.

“…This is stupid,” he grumbles to the empty stairwell, though his claws never leave the door handle.

It is stupid. And in fact, he’s had to run no less than four diagnostic checks on himself in the last six hours, all in an effort to find the glitch in his coding that’s nigh insistent upon him leaving the Plex for the single and solitary purpose of checking up on you.

… Stupid Freddy, and his stupid point… ‘I don’t like to think of her dealing with this by herself…’

Yeah? Well, neither does Monty.

Three days ago, he’d have laughed brazenly in the face of anyone who told him he’d be taking a vested interest in the well-being of a cleaning lady. Well, more fool him, because in just a few days, that little cleaning lady had hooked him like an expert angler, but it was Montgomery Gator who landed himself his first and only friend.

Closing his optics, Monty focuses on the steel hidden beneath his frame, a reminder that he’s built quite literally of the strongest stuff.

Montgomery Gator isn’t scared of going Outside. Outside should be scared of Montgomery Gator!

“Rah!” he exclaims suddenly, shoving down the handle and throwing the door open. It swings outwards, clanging loudly against the brick wall outside with such force that it starts to shudder closed, only to be thrown open once more as Monty shoulders through it, stomping purposefully out onto the roof of the Plex.

All at once, he receives a general alert about the abrupt drop on external temperature, though he dismisses it with a flick of his snout.

Trailing to a halt several steps from the door, Monty puffs excess air from his nostrils, watching a cloud of billowing steam rise up towards the night sky.

Behind him, the door swings shut with a metallic ‘clunk.’

“Huh,” he ponders aloud.

That was… easier than he thought it was going to be. Nothing’s shutting down, none of his systems are telling him to get back inside…

“I… did it?”

… Tilting his head skywards, Monty’s optics slide open to their maximum extent, wide with wonder.

Far above him, an uninterrupted blanket of sleek blackness sweeps across the entirety of his optical range. He almost shrinks underneath the weight and vastness of it.

There are no corners to it. Nothing standing between it and him to break up the view.

It’s the sky.

He knows about the sky, of course, but to actually see it for the first time…  He never realised how… unending it was.

And, oh, the stars. Monty spins in a slow, lazy circle, keeping his head craned back as a smile begins to pull at the silicone of his lips. Billions of tiny, little lights, like the glittering linoleum in the Plex, but out here he’s looking up instead of down.

His gaze moves North just a little, and there, he witnesses for the first time the crescent moon hanging over him, a tiny thumbnail of white against an otherwise pitch-black sky, yet somehow commanding the horizon.

Faz Co. All this time, they’ve been keeping the animatronics inside, and… Freddy, Chica, Roxy – all of them – they don’t know what they’ve been missing!

Monty didn’t know, at least, not until now.

But he did it. … He’s Outside.

Montgomery Gator is standing outside the Megaplex!

A wide, triumphant grin peels across the gator’s snout. Spinning around on a heel, he puffs his chest out at the doorway he’d just come through, nodding at it as if it were an adversary he’s just put in its place.

“Ha!” he barks, then again, “Ha!” Because this feels like a poignant moment. Like he’s just beaten… something, even if he isn’t sure what that is right now.

Rolling his shoulders, he points his head towards the edge of the roof, where a distant, orange glow is peeking over the lip of the outer wall. He braces himself, despite knowing what he’s about to see – the car park – the city beyond, but he’s never seen it from this vantage point.

Approaching the wall, he places his palms on the brickwork and peers out into the world beyond.

The car park stretches out in every direction he looks, like another void or a sea swathed in a thin layer of glittering frost. Or the sky, perhaps.

Raising his optics, Monty follows the rows of streetlights that retreat into the distance until their pretty glow is lost among the glare of the city’s skyline.

“There it is,” he mutters to himself, tipping his head to one side and eyeing the distant buildings and high-rises, “… Looks bigger from up here.”

But no further than a mile, by his sensors’ estimate.

With his lithium battery sitting at a comfortable ninety eight percent charge, he’d wager he has six hours, tops.

Belatedly, he sets an internal timer for five.

He can’t afford to get stranded halfway back to the plex, after all.

The city lights seem to wink at him, beckoning and daring, as if to inquire, ‘Well? Are you coming, or are you all talk?’

It’s a risk… Hell, this whole endeavour is a risk. If he’s found out, it’ll be curtains, and he can kiss his position in the band goodbye. Best case scenario, they’ll strip him for parts and shove his endo back into the basement with all the others.

Worst case?

… Well. He doesn’t like to think of the worst-case scenario.

Not for the first time, Monty has to wonder if he’s really about to risk his very existence for a cleaning lady.

But then, he only has to remember the little glass figurine sitting on his desk in the green room to banish all doubt from his processor.

Okay… Just this once, maybe you’re worth the risk.

Besides, no one need know he’s even gone.

He’s already pulled your home address from the employee databanks, and all he needs to do now is get there undetected, have a look through a window or something to make sure you’ve made it back safely, then return to the Megaplex without being spotted.

A simple enough plan, with only three, easy steps.

Monty scoffs softly to himself, planting a hand on each of his jutting hips, his tail swaying to and fro in apprehensive, sweeping motions.

How hard could it be?

Running a diagnostic check on his pneumatic cylinders, Monty sets his sights firmly on the city lights flickering ahead.

In the corner of his HUD, a red light blinks lazily to life, overlayed by a very important set of coordinates.

For as awestriking as the sky and the stars are, for Monty, there’s someone out there in the World that’s more important.

In a single bound, he leaps clear over the roof’s safety parapet and plummets like a meteor to the tarmac below.

The impact is quite literally ground-breaking. The force of a several-tonne animatronic hitting a solid surface rocks the carpark, causing the very earth itself to shudder in apparent surprise.

Luckily for the gator, given his affinity for jumping down from his catwalks in Gator Golf on a regular basis, the mechanics – sick of repairing his stabilisers every other day – had conceded to simply buy the most robust shock-absorbers on the market and promptly installed them into Monty’s legs, all without his input, of course.

He couldn’t be more pleased now, however. The heavy-duty springs catch much of his weight when he lands, screeching at the strain, yet stabilising the gator as they decompress, leaving his robotic joints no worse for wear.

Straightening up, Monty stretches out the wires in his neck with a satisfied grunt.

He doesn’t even spare the Plex a backwards glance.

-----

Monty supposes he ought to be grateful that the icy November chill has driven all but the hardiest humans indoors, and those that have bravely ventured out trudge up and down the city streets keep their heads tipped down, tucked into the raised collars of winter coats.

They’re certainly not looking up.

So, none of them see the enormous, dark shape bounding across the gaps between each building.

There is much that Monty would have liked to marvel at as he leaps across the city like it's a scaled-up version of his golf course. The humans walking down below. The rusted 'oldness' to some of the buildings that gather dust and frost like cloaks. 

The wind might have felt nice against him, he supposes, if he were a human, and if he had skin, not plastic, silicone and metal.

But the little numbers ticking down in the corner of his HUD remind him of why he set out on this journey in the first place. Time is hissing away like sand through an hourglass, and he'd much prefer to fill it with fulfilling his prior motive than to satisfy a casual curiosity.

Air whistles past Montgomery’s audials as he soars in a graceful arc down onto the roof of a rundown old factory. If his geological tracker is steering him right, he should be almost on top of your address.

He keeps low as he steals across the roof, almost pulling himself along on all fours just to keep out of sight until he crawls to a halt at the frost-stroked parapet.

Hesitant, he pokes his snout above the edge of the wall, peering past it to survey the building sitting adjacent.

According to his internal tracker, this is definitely the right place; a dreary tower of flats, piled on top of one another and stretching out from side to side, sporting windows that are far smaller than the ones the Glamrocks have separating their green rooms from Rockstar Row.

‘Huh. Must be for privacy,’ Monty assumes.

He notes that most of the windows are dark. Only a few spill forth soft, yellow light, just enough to chase away the darkness that tries to encroach into the homes within.

He wonders which window you’re waiting behind. If you’re waiting there at all.

The resounding ‘wham!’ of the animatronic hitting the alley floor rattles several metal dustbins nearby and sends a small, furry animal scampering out of an overturned box, hissing and spitting back at the gator as it flies out into the street beyond, disappearing just as swiftly as it had emerged.

Gritting his jaw in a grimace, Monty freezes for several, long moments, his pistons locking tight, audials strained to pick up the sound of any humans who might be inclined to investigate the jarring disturbance.

Lo and behold, not five seconds after the ground ceases to shudder, from somewhere overhead, he catches the distinct sound of wood scraping over itself – a window sliding open.

As swiftly and silently as an enormous animatronic can, Monty slinks backwards into the deeper shadow of the building, concealing himself beneath a rusty, iron fire escape that climbs the wall. Pressing his frame against the bricks, he tilts his head up to stare apprehensively through little, metal slats at the underside of a chin that pokes itself out of the window several storeys above him.

He curses at himself for growing careless. Surely, he hasn’t come this far just to get himself caught now…

As Monty’s apertures narrow to focus in on the human overhead, he very nearly releases an incredulous laugh when the figure tilts its gaze down, and a weary face reveals a little more of itself to the gator.

Of course… What providence, that the face he sees belongs to the very human he’d come looking for. Serendipity. He understands the definition, but has never yet felt its influence, until now.

An unknowable fondness softens Monty’s optics, shuttering them slightly as he watches you briefly scan the alley from left to right, but never quite hazarding a glance to the darkness directly below the fire escape.

You thusly miss the animatronic peering up at you from the shadows.

“Cats?” he hears you wonder aloud, rubbing at your thinly-clothed arms and shivering at the cold, November air nipping at your skin. Before Monty can snort aloud at the idea of mistaking a gator for a feline, you duck back inside and pull your window down once more, sealing it shut with a decisive ‘thunk!’

At once, the animatronic’s posture goes slack.

That had been close.

His intention was never for you to see him, he only came to find out if you made it back safely. And, hey! Mission accomplished! You’re back in your home. Good. You appear to be moving around by yourself okay. Even better.

Everything is all right. He can go back to the Plex now with a weight lifted from his shoulder struts.

He waits a moment in the dark.

Then he waits a few seconds longer.

Those few seconds turn into a minute, then two…

“Hmm.”

Shooting a scowl at his legs, Monty briefly considers running a troubleshoot to determine why they aren’t cooperating. He would… If he weren’t already well aware of the reason.

Perhaps… A quick peek through your window, just to be sure… Just to prove to himself that… that…

His processor fumbles for a flimsy excuse.

That there aren’t any major hazards in your home that he needs to take note of.

Yeah. Yeah, that’ll do.

‘Ugh, I’m startin’ to sound like Fazbear,” he grouses, laying a huge paw over his snout and shaking his head, discomfited. But that does get him to think… Freddy has a lot of friends. What would Freddy do in this situation?

Well, setting aside the fact that Freddy would never leave the Plex in the first place… Freddy would try and make sure his friends were okay, right?

Monty twists his neck to face the ladder of the rickety fire escape.

His processor ticks over, pushing an idea into his motherboard.

Just a peek.

The metal walkway could carry him right past your window, he could just take a look inside on his way to the roof.

Where’s the harm in that?

You came to check on him after the endo attack, is it so wrong if he wants to do the same for you?

‘No! It ain’t!’ he tells himself firmly. The idea is gaining traction, and Montgomery’s yellow chest sticks out as though he means to challenge his own hesitation.

He’s Montgomery Gator! He does what he wants - and if what he wants is to make sure that his… his only friend isn’t about to go climbing up unstable ladders or picking fights with strange endos, then… then so be it.

With a determined nod, Monty doesn’t hesitate any further.

A few strides carry him to the bottom of the fire escape where he plants one, cumbersome foot on the first step.

The thin slab of metal immediately screeches in protest under the unprecedented strain heaped upon it, but although the steps bow and dip as he begins to haul himself up towards the first platform, the whole contraption fights valiantly to hold itself together.

Step by step, the gator climbs, reaching the first section, then the second, then the third.

Your window should be on the fifth floor by his count.

Deep in his chassis, he feels a tiny spark of excitement flicker to life, likely the result of a loose wire, but the sudden prospect of seeing a human’s home for the first time – and not just any human’s home, but your home - is an altogether exciting development.

What might he see in your green room?

A vanity, perhaps? Like the ones the Glamrocks have? Maybe even a large sofa, set to one side of the room, plush and comfortable, just as you deserve. Do you have any photographs, like the ones you have in your cleaning cupboard at the Plex?

Eagerness propels the gator further up the fire escape, until at long last, he rises to a cautious halt on the platform outside the fifth-floor window…

Careful not to let his swaying tail whack against any of the bars and alert you to his presence, Monty slinks forwards, ducking his head low to peer through the frosted glass.

A pair of thin, cream-coloured curtains have been pulled across the width of the window, though there’s still a gap between them, wide enough that he can see a generous portion of your home beyond.

The room inside isn’t… entirely what he’d been expecting.

It’s longer than his green room, with a modest sitting area near the window, and a kitchen sitting at the far end that would sadden Chica if she ever found out how cramped it is. The fridge alone looks as though the door wouldn’t open without clanging against the counters opposite.

Frowning, Monty drags his optics back towards the sparse living room. There is a sofa, as he suspected, but yours makes the one in his green room look like a luxury.

Brown, faux leather has been stretched taut over a blocky frame, hard and unforgiving and about as inviting as a slab of concrete.

A television sits opposite, square and small, its screen utterly dark. And between the two, he studies a table that’s been stained all over with brown rings from many a mug that missed the intended coaster.

There’s still one thing in particular that Monty has been trying to find, however. For all his searching and scrutinising, he hasn’t spotted hide nor hair of you.

The gator’s brows click together audibly as he scans each corner of the living space, then on to the kitchen. But the only thing of note is the little saucepan sitting on top of a black cooker, a trail of steam wafting up towards the ceiling. Grunting, he drags his optics to the right, where they finally land upon a nondescript door set into the East wall.

‘Could you be behind there?’ he muses.

As if in answer to the silent question, the door abruptly swings open, and Monty’s shoulder struts sag with relief to see the familiar form of his – of you! Of you - hobbling into the room.

In a moment where he’s taken in by blind excitement, he raises a massive paw, curls it into a fist and makes to rap it against the glass, pulling up short just before his knuckle joints make contact.

Monty blinks, shaking his head and giving his fist a perplexed glance before he slowly lowers it to his side.

Shifting forwards to peer through the glass once more, Monty watches keenly as you pause in the empty space between the kitchen and your living room, where you spare the steaming saucepan a quick look. Then, in another second, you twist yourself about and begin to limp in the direction of the window.

Jolting, Monty drops his head, shying back to conceal himself a little more from the light that creeps along the tip of his snout.

It comes as yet another relief when you stop heading for the window.

Easing back on his rigid struts, Monty instead watches you edge between the coffee table and sofa, manoeuvring your crutches about in the unaccommodating space until at last, you collapse back into the ratty cushions with a wince, and promptly discard the crutches in a haphazard mess on the floor to your left, throwing them down as if they’re nothing but hateful things worthy of your disdain.

The television sits neglected in its little corner, the screen still dark and blank, but you don’t reach for the remote that sits on the table in front of you.

To the gator’s mounting confusion, you proceed to sit quietly for several long, uneventful minutes, hands folded in your lap whilst you gaze down the length of your body. Monty may not have the shiniest processor on the factory line, but even he can tell that your eyes are adhered exclusively on the cast enveloping your leg.

He should… probably get out of here…

Once again, the nagging operations running through his head lay their hackles down. You’re safe… So, he can go.

Right now.

Somehow though, despite logic, the gator’s focus remains locked unwaveringly in your direction.

There’s a software in each animatronic – one of the first ever implemented into newer models like the Glamrocks. A facial-recognition scanner, wired from their optics to their CPU. At first, it was merely intended for use as a feature that identifies individual faces. That’s how they could tell the thousands upon thousands of guests apart from one another, not to mention the staff.

After all, what child wouldn’t feel special when their favourite animatronic remembered their names, remembered them?

Over time, management decided they were onto something with that particular technology. And thus, the software was revisited, then tailored for an additional purpose.

Soon enough, the animatronics were upgraded with the ability to not only recognise faces, but to read emotions as well, to an extraordinary degree. Tiny twitches in the brow, muscle contractions in the lips, as miniscule as they might be, would be picked up, and the bots would react accordingly.

Staring at you now, Monty registers the tiny, downward tilt of your lips and the pinched skin wrinkling between your brows, not to mention the way you’ve slouched into the sofa as though your strings have been cut, and some half-rate puppeteer has left you there like a discarded plaything.

In short, you look nothing short of miserable, sitting there, glaring dolefully at your leg in a cast, prompting several alerts to ping across Monty’s motherboard, urging the animatronic to approach and make you happy again.

And as if to affirm what his sensors are alerting him to, he watches on in dismay as you blink and a single, glistening tear is squeezed out through your lashes, marking a lazy path down your cheek, and dripping off the tip of your chin.

Something that, were he human, Monty might label as ‘guilt,’ starts to squirm through his circuits. There’s something so terribly inconsiderate about him witnessing your tears in the privacy of your own home, a place where you should feel safe and unobserved. Goodness knows he gets sick of all the gawking from time to time, of all those hands pressed up against his showroom window, eyes on stalks.

But what’s he doing now? To you?

Now that you think you’re free from prying eyes, your composure has slipped off like an ill-fitting mask.

He shouldn’t be here… He shouldn’t be seeing this, certainly not without your knowledge. 

Tail drooping, Monty lifts one, hefty foot and places it carefully behind himself, fully intent on leaving now lest he do something stupid… again.

He’s just seconds from twisting his head away from the window when, without warning, you suddenly snap upright in your seat.

Startled, Monty freezes, wondering if he’s been spotted, but a glimpse of you tossing your head towards the kitchen directs his wide optics to the real catalyst.

The saucepan that had been happily steaming away on the hob has promptly turned into a broiling, spitting mess of white bubbles. Scalding water spills over the lip of the pan, hitting the glassy surface with an angry hiss, then creeping towards the edge of the counter where it begins to drip in rivulets down the side.

In a flurry of flailing limbs, you struggle to haul yourself up off the sofa, and Monty picks up the slew of profanity pouring out of you, even through the glass, vulgar enough that he can almost picture Freddy clutching at imaginary pearls.

You succeed in getting to your feet at last, but in your rush, you try to step over your discarded crutch, perhaps assuming you might make it across the kitchen without it.

Sadly, however, Monty is helpless except to watch on in mounting horror as the toes exposed by the open end of your cast whack into the metal pole, and you unleash a shrill squawk of pain, toppling forwards to land with a sickening ‘thud’ on the carpet, barely throwing your hands out in time to keep your nose from hitting the floor first.

Monty is moving before he even registers the fire exploding to life in his processor.

Strong, black-tipped claws bury themselves into the bottom of the window frame, splintering wood as they find purchase. You must have locked if after investigating the ‘mysterious’ noise outside, but for the animatronic, the little, silver latch doesn’t stand a hope in Hell’s chance against his sophisticated motors.

Wood scrapes violently over wood as Monty hauls the window up in one, great thrust, slamming it home and squeezing himself through the gap he creates, and subsequently gouging several notches out of the frame with his shoulder struts.

Within mere seconds, he’s flown across the room and upended the coffee table with a sweep of his burly arm. In the very same motion, he stoops down over your back, his scanners going haywire.

Palms flat to the floor, you’ve barely had time to push yourself off your chest before Monty’s large palms find purchase on your ribs.

You immediately turn rigid beneath his touch, though the gator pays that little mind as he begins to pry you gently off your carpet with a care he’s known only to reserve for children – and more recently, a certain cleaning lady.

“Easy, easy” he rumbles, ex-venting a puff of steam from his nostrils as his system acclimatises to the warmer air inside your home, “I gotcha.”

Montgomery Gator has never been the type of bot who’s inclined to look before he leaps.

He wants to be. So badly. Primarily because - of all the animatronics at the Plex - Monty is the one for whom action and consequence are as known to him as his own tail.

His processor just… doesn’t think sometimes.

It might be quite alarming, for instance, to be a human, alone in your house, with no prior knowledge of an animatronic’s proximity, to then suddenly be made aware of its presence when it promptly leaps through your window and starts picking you off your feet, gears whirring and metal clanging loudly with each thudding footstep.

But that little snippet of information didn’t occur to Monty.

Why would it when his friend might be hurt?

So, he really isn’t expecting the shriek that explodes out of you, nor for you to suddenly come alive under his hands, wriggling and struggling, slamming your fists down on his forearms. “NO!” you holler, your voice hoarse with desperation.

Taken aback, Monty almost loses his grip on your sides, but at the last moment, he twists you around to face him and drops you – albeit gently – on the sofa, wincing as your flailing, uninjured leg catches him in the knee-joint. Not because you’ve kicked anything out of alignment, but because when it comes to a battle between metal and flesh, metal is always the last to yield.

Though you let out another undignified yelp, the moment you’re free, you lurch backwards into the cushions, arms pushing you deeper amongst them whilst your eyes frantically scan the looming bot in front of you.

Holding out his palms in a pacifying gesture, Monty blurts, “Hey! Lady, relax. It’s just me!”

Recognition instantly blooms across your face, softening the terrified pinch of your brows for just a few, precious seconds. In that time, Monty has the unexpected, yet not unwelcomed privilege of someone looking at him like they’re relieved it’s him, and not some other bot.

Then, of course, the relief spreading over your features is sucked back in and twisted up until the corners of your mouth turn down and your eyes once again bulge in their sockets, horrified by what they’re seeing.

“M-Monty!?” you stammer, tripping over his name as you gape up at him, slack-jawed.

Ah… Shifting awkwardly on his feet, the gator quirks a floppy smile down at you, casting a surreptitious optic to his HUD, and the results that confirm you’re entirely unhurt by your impromptu fall.

So far, things are not going according to his fool proof, three-step plan…

[boltlightning]

hey gamers. the dead man’s chest soundtrack has been rolling around my head a lot lately; the extended soundtrack from this playlist has been a godsend. specifically i want to gush about the instrumentation.

the potc soundtracks use a standard orchestra composition, focusing on strings and brass and less on woodwinds. DMC introduces the kraken and davy jones, who are associated with davy jones’ organ (of course) and — well. hans zimmer went nuts and recorded the orchestra, then piped that recording back over the music through a guitar amp. it sounds uncannily like an electric bass (and yes, a guitar now and then), so for our purposes i am going to say it sounds like electric bass with CRUNCHY reverb. it seems a little counterintuitive to associate ancient and cursed beings with more modern, experimental sounds, but altogether it creates this delightful, otherworldly, primordial rock band feel.

let’s take the track from when we first meet davy jones, dutchman arrival, for instance. it gives us a touch of that electric bass underneath jones’ theme when the sailors first show up, then pivots to normal orchestration as will is fighting. HE doesn’t know who they are, only that they’re odd — and when jones shows up finally, you get the bass holding that melody all on its own, this terrifying, growling refrain that sounds like it’s seething just under the surface. an undercurrent…a heartbeat, perhaps.

hold onto that thought. let’s move on. davy jones and his organ. jones having something as dramatic, expensive, and dominating as an organ on his ship speaks to how authoritative his character is — he’s playing his self-pitying music while his crew is breaking their backs to keep this awful ship sailing. he plays it solo, then the entire orchestra joins in, and beneath it all…the thrum of a heart. the melody of jones’ theme fits lock-and-key with the beat of a heart. here, everything is orchestral, but we’ve added the warm tones of choral voices under it all, like this is a horrible waltz that everyone aboard is doomed to keep dancing. and then it spirals into discordant chaos.

as a bonus: pipe organs have the countermelody playing with foot pedals, usually. imagine jones and his peg leg playing this kind of shit while the squid beard tickles the keys

i also L O V E the chorus humming in the back half of the whipping scene. it makes my skin crawl.

this all builds to the second kraken attack, the attack that introduces the viewer to the kraken in person. just…the constant buzz of the bass under these insane, warning low brass flourishes. the guitar-alike sound is in full force here and drapes this growly, eerie echo over the entire score. just when you hit the natural apex of the song, when you think you might reach some sort of musical resolution, it cuts out for a caesura — and bursts back in with the organ melody, huge and overwhelming over it all, as the kraken FULLY CRACKS A SHIP IN HALF. just in case you forgot who made this all happen. this is the EXACT way a heroic theme would triumphantly emerge in any classical piece of work. eat your heart out, holst.

the way jones’ theme is reprised with horns in the ship to ship score is so chilling too. it’s played in will's instrument after all! it's this teeny little bit of hope, a sign the pearl might get away — yet it’s getting lost in all the tenor voices just to really remind you how hopeless this all is. and then everything drops away and jones’ theme fully emerges in the low bass; it’s raunchy and nasty and so, so scary. god. what a score.

they do such a good job with the themes, even without visuals it’s so easy to tell who is on screen doing what in any of the tracks from the wheel of fortune section (specifically heart madness on the extended soundtrack). if there’s soaring brass and string stings, you know local romance heroes will and norrington are trying to kill each other on the wheel. if it’s quiet with a plucky little string soli, low reeds, and snare accents, you know jack is doing some shenanigans off to the side. if there’s deep and growling bass and organ swells, it’s elizabeth and pintel and ragetti racing against the crew of the dutchman for the heart.

in particular there’s this delightful bit in the track immediately preceding it, 3-way sword fight, where the melody starts and stops as all three dudes with swords are getting their footing on the various precarious places they take their fight. it builds and builds, and soon the melody is getting juggled by three different groups of instruments as elizabeth gets drawn into the fight too. talk about chaos.

on a related, but more lowkey character note: i ADORE that beckett’s associated instrument is the harpsichord. you only hear it a little bit in the track when will is bargaining with beckett. the harpsichord immediately puts you in the mind of aristocratic england; it was a household instrument back then, it’s plausibly an instrument beckett could play himself! it’s particular, but at the same time it’s subtle. it’s not dominating. he’s a new player in the game with a unique position, and damn does he know how to play the game.

and FINALLY. to compare beckett to someone ostentatious in a much different way: jack is associated with two themes, summed up perfectly in this track. this big, great, sweeping, seafaring melody we know and love, with regimented snare drum and timpani, the whole nine yards. it invokes jack’s reputation, the captain in his title…and then it fades to that stupid little soli, the gremlin trickster we all know and love.

yet compare that track with this demo of the same themes — it’s the exact same music, just with a solo piano, and it sounds so moody, even when the key and tempo pick up. THAT’S the power of instrumence baby! the texture, timbre, and context of any given melody changes the weight and impact, even if the notes are exactly the same. 

finally finally: i hope the timpani player finds a million dollars every day in the street.

ok. phew. this soundtrack makes me want to go learn cello and i needed to get that out of my system. thanks for coming to my tedtalk.

[allmoshnobrain]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 18 of ? | masterpost

word count: 3287 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

His words hit me like a punch in the stomach. I knew Dave wouldn't like the idea of me reconnecting with Cliff, James, and Lars. But I didn't expect him to be so shaken by it. Dave, who had always been kind to me, who had protected me from everything and everyone, was now staring at me like I'd double-crossed him. Actually, it was worse – like he was straight-up disgusted by me.

✦ summary: Amid the hustle and bustle of life in Los Angeles, Nore finds herself torn between her loyalty and love for Dave and the longing she feels for her old life in San Francisco and her friends.

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, romance, fluff, angst

✦ a/n: Hello! It took me a while to post this new chapter, I haven't been able to keep a consistent posting schedule lately because I've been real busy but here it is! Apparently Ao3 is down again, so I haven't posted this one there yet, but I will upload the fic there as soon as it's back! A lot happens in this part so I hope you guys like it, feedbacks are always welcome ❤

Life with Dave had settled into a comfortable rhythm, even amidst the constant energy of our bohemian neighborhood. It was eye-opening how my interactions with the boys, particularly Dave, had shaped me since the start of the year. I was taken aback by the reflection in the mirror, where a more mature version of myself stared back; I had chopped off my hair after my birthday, trading long locks for a shoulder-length cut.

The shyness that had accompanied my arrival in San Francisco had been replaced by a quiet resolve. The parties in Los Angeles were far more chaotic than what I was used to, and I quickly needed to adjust myself to the new scene. Despite my denial, I found myself drinking more than ever before and soon started carrying a pocketknife with me wherever I went. Not that I needed to use it, anyway; everyone knew that Dave would be more than ready to pick a fight with anyone who dared to bother me.

Dave's whole idea of jumpstarting a new band wasn't exactly going according to plan. He'd rounded up some friends to jam with since he got back to California, but things hadn't really moved past that point. Plus, they were still on the hunt for a bassist. But all of this was about to change.

I woke up one Monday to this crazy loud music blasting. I squinted, puzzled, as I glanced around and realized I was alone in bed. I scrunched up my face, feeling a throbbing headache creep in — Dave and I had knocked back way more drinks than we should've the day before, so I could tell a killer hangover was looming.

"What. The. FUCK!" I heard Dave's voice shout from the living room. Scrunching up my brows, I dragged myself up to see what the commotion was all about. And then it hit me: the racket I was hearing was some bass guitar being played at full blast. It took me a sec, but I finally caught on to the tune — it was the bassline from "Running With the Devil" by Van Halen.

"Dave, what's the deal?" I managed to say, my voice thick with sleepiness. I noticed him standing by the living room window, his face all riled up. He turned my way, the annoyance softening as his eyes met mine.

"And now the asshole woke up my girl too," he muttered, disgruntled, making his way over to me. He pulled me into a hug, planting kisses on my cheeks and then on my lips, prompting a small chuckle from me. "Hey. Sorry about that. Our new neighbor is a real jerk."

"They're definitely making a statement with that volume," I mumbled, still half in dreamland, my headache not improving with the noise. "Ever thought about just closing the window?" 

"I've got a different plan," he said, dropping his voice a notch, easing his grip before stepping back. He picked up an empty beer bottle from the table, and I raised an eyebrow as he leaned against the windowsill, giving the bottle a solid toss towards the window below. "Shut the hell up, already!"

Miraculously, this time, the noise actually stopped. Dave looked at me, letting out a sheepish laugh. I bit my lip, trying to stifle my laughter.

"Damn, Dave. I hope they don't come up here to beat you up."

"They can try," he answered, his laughter low and warm, his arm finding its way around my waist as he planted a kiss on my cheek. "Let's just get back to sleeping."

I didn't bother when he guided me to bed, and we laid down; it was still pretty early. I was almost drifting off to sleep again when a knock on the door disrupted the calm. I opened my eyes, giving a frustrated groan, and Dave mumbled as he got up to answer. 

"Hey, know where we can grab smokes?" a guy's voice came from outside. 

"There's a store on the corner," Dave replied shortly before closing the door with a thud. He returned to bed soon after, pulling me close in a tight embrace, his face nuzzling my neck. 

He had barely settled when there was another knock on the door. 

"Fuck off!" he muttered, annoyed, yanking a pillow to cover his head. I got up to answer the door, my headache intensifying, my patience wearing thin.

“Oh, hey,” I was met with a grin from a tall boy, around my age. He had brown hair and was rocking a Kiss t-shirt under a worn leather jacket. His buddy, dressed in a similar style, watched with interest. “Can I talk with your... uh, boyfriend?” 

“Uh, he's…” I was gonna say that Dave was sleeping, but he beat me to it. He swung the door open and glared at the two guys, not hiding his annoyance. 

“What do you jerks need?” 

“Hey,” the guy greeted, not seeming bothered by Dave's standoffish vibe. “So, you old enough to score us some beer?”

I glanced at Dave and caught a hint of a smirk on his face. He still looked annoyed, but the boy's persistence seemed to impress him a bit. 

“Well,” Dave said. “You're growing on me, kid. Gimme a sec.”

He snagged his leather jacket, wallet, and keys, giving me a quick goodbye before heading out with the guys. I sighed, pretty sure sleep wasn't coming back to me, and decided to get changed and freshen up.

They rolled back in a while later, arms loaded with crates of beer. Turned out the boy's name was also David — Ellefson — and his friend went by Greg. David was a bit younger than me, and he was the one who had been playing bass at full volume in the morning. Funny thing, Dave seemed to have dropped his earlier annoyance. Actually, as they got talking, it was clear they were getting along really well.

I split for work a few hours later, leaving them chatting and drinking. When I got back home that night, I found Dave more pumped than I'd seen him in ages. He hadn't paid much attention to Greg, but I could tell he had really clicked with David.

"Thinking of roping him into the band," he told me, grin wide. "He's cool, and damn good on that bass. I think this might be it."

I grinned back and agreed. Back then, I had no clue about what lay ahead. No idea this was the inception of Megadeth, the big project that'd define Dave's future. I was just happy to finally see things going well for him. And to finally see him making some new friends — that's exactly what he needed right then.

A few days later, I was fixing up something for lunch before heading to work when my phone rang.

"Hey there, Nore," Cliff's voice chimed in when I picked up, and I raised my eyebrows in surprise. We hadn't talked since my birthday, even though I'd catch up with what they were doing through Leanne once in a blue moon.

"Hey, Cliff. What's up? Why the sudden call?"

"Oh, thanks for the warm welcome," he retorted with a hint of sarcasm. "Can't a cousin catch up anymore?"

A faint blush spread across my cheeks. 

"My bad. Of course, you can," I said, secretly relieved that Dave wasn't around. He hadn't exactly been very happy lately when Lars, Cliff, and James were brought up.

“Relax,” he answered, in his usual laid back way. “Actually, I've got an invite for you. We're on tour, and we're swinging back to San Francisco…” 

“Hold up a sec, what?” I cut in. “You're on tour? What about the album?” 

“Album's out already.” 

“And no one bothered to clue me in.” 

“Figured you already got the memo.” 

“How would I, if you didn't bother giving me one?” I frowned, a bit ticked off. Cliff let out a sigh. 

“Fine, my bad. Look, money's been a bit tight, so I couldn't exactly ring you up all the time. But we've got a gig in San Francisco next Saturday. Wanted to see if you'd wanna come.”

I chewed on my lip, pausing for a moment. Of course, I totally wanted to go. Despite the whole mess with the guys after Dave got kicked out, I couldn't deny they were still my friends. More than that – Cliff was family, and it'd been weeks since we saw each other. LA was a whirlwind, but it sure got lonesome at times. But I didn't want to upset Dave about this. Something told me he wouldn't exactly cheer if I said I wanted to hit up a Metallica gig right now.

“Cliff, I'm not sure,” I said. “It's just… Dave…”

“Screw Dave, Nore. You worry too much about him,” he shot back, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "And seriously, everyone's been missing you. Please?”

I sighed. I knew I might get into trouble for this, but how bad could it be? It was just a concert, after all.

"Okay, fine, I'm in. But only 'cause I've been missing you guys," I caved. "So where's this gig gonna happen?"

"At The Stone. Lea's gonna be there too, you can crash at her place if you need."

"I'll hit her up later. Catch you at the gig then?"

"Count on it."

“Missed you,” I mumbled before he hung up, and he chuckled.

“Yeah, me too.”

“Geez, Nore! You look like hell.” 

I squinted at Pat, trying to stifle a yawn as I met her blue gaze. Patricia, my co-worker, was the spawn of Roger Anderson, the boss at my new job in a downtown LA record store. She was a bit younger than me, and we clicked fast after realizing we were both crazy about pretty much the same bands. Thanks to work, we'd become good friends over the past two months. 

“Hey there, Pat,” I dumped my bag behind the counter. It was early afternoon and I'd just walked in for my shift, but I couldn't wait to get back home; that night had been a difficult one. “Mornin' to you too.”

“Good morning,” Pat greeted, giving me a curious look. “Rough night?” 

“Yeah, kinda... a lot on my mind,” I mumbled, seizing the quiet moment with no customers to leaf through a Kerrang! magazine lying on the counter. 

“Is this about your boyfriend again? You're always worried about him,” she quipped, heading to the small kitchen in the back. I let out a soft chuckle. “Here you go,” she plunked a coffee mug down in front of me. I closed my eyes for a second, inhaling the rich scent rising from the freshly brewed drink. “To help you wake up.” 

“Thanks,” I yawned, taking a sip. She grinned, snagging a chair beside me behind the counter, flipping open the magazine as well.

"He's like, so handsome," Pat swooned, her tone dreamy. I peered above my coffee mug at the magazine she was flipping through; her attention was glued to photos of the Thin Lizzy guitarist. "Think I stand a chance?" 

"To find out, you'd need to actually meet the guy," I chuckled. She grumbled, faceplanting onto her crossed arms, then shot me a look with her bright blue eyes. 

"So, what's with the insomnia?" she asked. I let out a sigh. 

"It's just... You remember Dave was in the same band as my cousin, right?" 

"Yeah, and then they booted him out and you got super pissed," she pointed out. I gave a soft chuckle. 

"Yeah, that. But now they're coming back to California, and my cousin invited me to catch their next gig. I wanna go, but..." 

"You haven't dropped the news on Dave yet?" 

I shook my head, thoughtful, draining the last of my coffee.

"He took everything really hard," I mumbled, my voice low. "I'm not even sure if he'll be cool with me wanting to go." 

"But you do wanna go, right?" she questioned, stretching her arms before picking up my now-empty mug. "I mean, from what you've shared, you and your cousin are super tight. You shouldn't ditch seeing him just because of your boyfriend. You gotta talk it out with Dave, he'll get it."

I absentmindedly nodded, letting out a sigh. Pat was hitting the nail on the head with that one: I did wanna go. I missed Cliff big time, but it wasn't just that. I missed San Francisco and my friends too. Life with Dave was great, and Los Angeles was a whole new chaotic, bustling universe, but sometimes I also felt kind of lonely.

I just hoped Dave could understand that.

Later, when I finally got back home, I was welcomed by the sound of Dave's guitar as he played. I closed the door, tossed my bag on the couch, and headed into the bedroom. There he was, sitting on the bed, his guitar in his lap, and a half-finished joint chilling in the ashtray on the bedside table.

"Hey there," I greeted, and my smile matched his as he glanced up, his grin growing even bigger at the sight of me. He got up, setting the guitar down, and came my way. 

"Hey," he said. I chuckled softly as he wrapped an arm around my waist, planting kisses on my lips and then my neck. "How was your day?" 

"Same as usual," I answered, letting out a little giggle as he nuzzled into my neck, pulling me close. "And yours?"

"Same as usual," he pulled away, looking at me with a smile, his eyes flickering to my lips in a way that made my heart race. "Thinking about hitting the shower. You're welcome to join if you're up for it…"

“Oh, um, Dave…” I started, my voice kind of shaky with nerves. If possible, I'd rather handle the whole concert talk with him later. But after Pat's pep talk, I knew if I didn't tackle it now, I'd never get around to it. Dave looked at me, curious. “There's something I wanted to talk about…” 

“Huh? Did I mess up or something?” he asked, a smile on his face, though I could sense the worry behind it due to my uncertain tone. 

“No, not at all,” I muttered, then took a deep breath. “It's just that... Cliff called a few days ago,” I paused as his brow creased, but there was no going back now. “They're playing a gig in San Francisco. I thought about going…”

Dave's brows knit together, his expression shifting as he sort of pulled away, his gaze fixing on me with a weighty silence. I met his eyes, my heart doing a somersault in my chest. I figured he wouldn't take the news super well, but that wasn't exactly the reception I was hoping for.

“You want to go see Metallica,” he finally spoke up, his voice low and devoid of emotion.

“I want to see Cliff…”

“Oh, not James and Lars?” he quipped, a touch of bitter sarcasm lacing his words.

“Dave…”

“Nore, remember they showed me the exit door? No warning. No second chances. And now you wanna kick it with 'em?” he seemed more incredulous than anything, incredulous and hurt, which only made the situation worse. He shook his head, like he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing, running a hand through his hair and looking at me, torn between disappointment and anger. “Damn it, Nore. I can't tell if you're being dumb or if you just don't love me anymore.”

His words hit me like a punch in the stomach. I knew Dave wouldn't like the idea of me reconnecting with Cliff, James, and Lars. But I didn't expect him to be so shaken by it. Dave, who had always been kind to me, who had protected me from everything and everyone, was now staring at me like I'd double-crossed him. Actually, it was worse – like he was straight-up disgusted by me.

I couldn't react, I just stood there in silence as tears welled up in my eyes. This wasn't fair. I had chosen him. I had distanced myself from my cousin and my friends for him. I had stood by him from the beginning. Somehow, I had expected him to be angry, but not like this. Cliff and I would butt heads all the time, sure, but me and Dave? This stung way more than I'd ever figured it could.

“Dave, seriously... This isn't playing fair,” I managed to get out, my voice breaking as a sob hitched a ride on the tears that were falling. I could see it all hit him, the weight of what he'd just said settling in his eyes, a mix of horror and regret. But the moment had passed, the words hung in the air, and now there was no going back. I shook my head as I turned around to leave the apartment.

“Nore. Wait up, Nore!” Dave's voice hurried after me, his grip on my arm pulling me to a halt just before I could duck out completely. I tried to rein in the tears that were breaking through,  causing me to sob and tremble. “Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. I really didn't…”

“I'm right here with you!” I shot back, my voice shaking like crazy, not as strong as I'd like, but definitely loud enough to make a point. “Fuck, Dave. You think I'm some kinda idiot for wanting to see my friends? I've got no one else – my parents practically booted me, my old Long Beach friends act like I've got the plague.” I edged away, the words tumbling out in a jumble, trying to stem the flood of tears. I looked into his brown eyes and saw them gazing at me, filled with pain. “Metallica was all I fucking had too! Do you want to snatch that away from me? You think I'd be standing here if I didn't love you?”

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, his voice sounding more fragile than I'd ever heard, as he pulled me into a tight embrace. "I'm a fucking idiot. I'm really sorry." 

"You're everything I've got too," I murmured, my sobs gradually calming down as I buried my face into his chest. "Just... Please don't make me choose, Dave. I can't, I really can't." 

"It's okay. I'm sorry," he soothed, his fingers softly running through my hair, his voice quivering as he held me close against him. "I love you. So damn much. Please, don't leave me. Stay here with me." 

"I'm not leaving you," I sniffled, finally managing to get a grip on my tears. He rested his forehead against mine, his pained eyes locking onto mine. "I'm here because I love you. But you've got to trust me, Dave."

"I do trust you, Nore. For real. I'm sorry," he whispered, seeming relieved now that I was starting to calm down. "Of course you can go. You don't need my permission. It's just... I can't face them anymore. I need to be something, Nore. If I fail, if I'm just a loser…”

“Dave, you're not a loser. You're an amazing guitarist, remember? Didn't I tell you that when we first got together?" I cut in, and he let out a soft chuckle. 

"Yeah, and you also mentioned I was really handsome," he quipped, and I laughed, a shaky laugh that still carried the traces of tears. He looked at me for a moment before adding: "I don't think you're dumb, by the way. You're the smartest girl I've ever met."

“You haven’t met many girls, have you?” I mumbled, and he rolled his eyes. 

"Hush, Burton," he grumbled before leaning in to kiss me.

[bleaksqueak]

One of the soli characters that shows up in chp 2 looks so much like Hell King Bass, like near identical except not (a zombie), that I’m almost ashamed.

It wasn’t on purpose, but I know my subconscious knew what it was doing. Subconsciously wanting to put in another homage to my favorite comic? Or was it simply the “HE HAS A HAT AND A BEARD AND A SQUARE BASED SHAPE DESIGN” fact of it that had my hand going, “Oh, yes, I know how to draw that. We’ve drawn that before, precious. Yes we have.”

Who can say, but lol anyway, here’s my ancient ass fan art of this guy. Sure, he’s only a head in 3/4 of these, but aren’t we all. (edit: make that 4/5) also just for the hell of it, an even older fan art of Guitar that I did when I was still in high school.

[wightsend]

solis playing guitar in minecraft

[mons-immortalium-if]

I'm happy to hear you're good!! I'm also good, thank you! I love the hairtsyle of the guy in the vid! he is rocking that guitar!!! since we are talking about songs, do you have a lyric or song that makes you think about each ro?

Hmm here are some songs that fit their general vibes. Would it have been easier to make some playlist? Yes, definitely :)) maybe later this month.

Solis - just... all the sappy heartbreak love songs I wanna be that guy I wanna kiss your eyes I wanna drink that smile I wanna feel like I Like my souls on fire Ed Sheeran - Shivers ♥ Backstreet Boys - Incomplete Slipknot - Snuff ♥ Alec Benjamin - Let Me Down Slowly Avicii - Waiting For Love Falling In Reverse - "Last Resort (Reimagined)" 👀 The Attic - In your eyes Rixton - Me and My Broken Heart John Legend - All of Me Kygo - Firestone Nox - rock-ish suffering with a dash of funky pop I don't wanna drown in you I'm sinking, then I'm torn in two So when you see me come up for air Don't try to hold me down Just save me now Don't let me drown in you Daughtry - Drown In You ♥♥ Måneskin - Beggin' Kings Of Leon - Sex on Fire The Cult - Painted on my Heart Billy Idol - Rebel Yell Avenged Sevenfold - Afterlife Mark Ronson - Uptown Funk Alexandra Stan - Mr. Saxobeat Dactyl - Pure Sin✨ twenty one pilots: Heavydirtysoul Arashi - umm chaotic vampire on drugs? You can't escape the wrath of my heart Beating to your funeral song All faith is lust for hell regained And love dust in the hands of shame Let me bleed you this song of my heart deformed Lead you along this path in the dark Where I belong until I feel your warmth HIM - Vampire Heart ♥ Yasmine Hamdan - Hal Korn - Forsaken Phildel - The Wolf The Police - Every Breath You Take Maroon 5 - Animals😂 Nightwish - Wish I Had An Angel Disturbed - The Sound Of Silence Deftones - Digital Bath Dead By Sunrise - In The Darkness ♥

[doomandgloomfromthetomb]

Isasa - Canciones de Amor

Madrid-based guitarist Conrado Isasa returns with what might be his finest effort yet — an album that is filled with gorgeous textures, sensitive playing and rich, resonating tones. The first half of Canciones de Amor is in a mostly straightforward guitar soli mode, with Isasa's gossamer melodies unfurling patiently. The second half is a bit more adventurous, with harmonium drones, lonely lap steels, sweet, wordless vocals from Trice and some unusual production techniques. It all works wonderfully, evoking a sense of stillness and calm that you'll want to revisit again and again.

[dustedmagazine]

Isasa — Canciones De Amor (Repeditor / Feeding Tube)

Canciones De Amor is the fifth solo album by the Spanish guitarist Isasa. The sturdy thumb-driven rhythm and bucolic vibe of his early recordings under that name (like a lot of folks playing guitar soli these days, he has a distant rock and roll past, most notably in the band Room With A View) betrayed a strong Takoma school influence. The sound of Canciones De Amor continues an evolution away from the fields plowed by John Fahey, Glenn Jones, and Jack Rose, but it holds close to a chief tenet of their work — that music played on a steel-stringed acoustic guitar can take you on an emotional journey.

The LP takes advantage of its inevitable split to divide the music into solo pieces and more layered works. Isasa’s picking has become more delicate and reflective than on earlier LPs, and as the first sequence progresses, the tunes get longer, slower, and more elaborate. It finishes with a piece whose title, “Carta A Mi Joven Yo” (“A Letter To My Younger Self”), amounts to a missive telling Isasa-the-younger that it’s going to be okay to settle down. “Firmamento” begins side two with a transition of scene and sound. Isasa’s guitar seems to loom out of a still synthesizer-scape. From there, things brighten considerably, as the voices of loved ones pop up in tunes that are subtly dressed up with lap steel and piano. One track is named after his spouse, another after one of the children in his house, and two more kids contribute voices to a third.

Isasa’s trip has a very personal destination, and each element plays a part in telling the story.

The album’s titular love songs celebrate home life, and as member of the household takes their place, the additional layers take the music away from the stage. As it grows more elaborate the music becomes more comforting. It’s as though the composer wants his audience to know that as much as he’s happy that they’re listening, he is not going to be hanging out by the edge of the stage, because there are people he wants to see at home. And if he doesn’t come back to the club for a while, perhaps you can just listen to this record,  kicking back someone you love. 

Bill Meyer

[moaning-riddle]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you. learn to know your mutuals and followers.(ू•‧̫•ू⑅)♡

Omg this is so cool!! Hii 👋(im @solis-angelus btw if u didn't know :))

Ok so—

music. Electric guitars, guitars of any kind. Drumsssss (I would kill to learn those.) Loads of songs. and my voice when its good, which is rare.

the smell of storms/rain. uk wet soil, leaves..that smell (the general feel of storms is great, as long as you're out of harm's way ofc)

My mother. She's the reason I live for.

The hillside. The hilly/mountainous areas are SO GOOD in my state istg

DOGS!!!!!!!! OHMYGOD HOW COULD I ALMOST FORGET-

thank you for such a nice and kind ask <333

[peemanne]

pee-man yakuza ost review: Kiwami 1 (IT MEANS EXTREME!!)

So since I did a little write-up on the original game's OST and I thought it'd be fun to do it with Kiwami's soundtrack, since I got the original's soundtrack fresh in my mind, and because I haven't actually played the Kiwamis yet. (i've been playing these games in the world's jankiest order don't question it).

So here we are! Since it's my first time fully listening to this, I decided to make this write up a little more complete. And by little more, I mean I wrote about just about every track available to me. Whoops.

I wrote and listened to this over the course of 3 nights, so I'll mark the "sessions" as such if you're curious. I'll also have hyperlinks to all the tracks in their titles for convenience.

This is gonna be a very subjective thing, and I'm gonna make a LOT of comparisons to the original work. I'm sure at least some of my opinions would change if I actually played them in their original, specifically Kiwami context, but for now, here are my thoughts on Yakuza Kiwami's soundtrack. (i don't think there are any major spoilers for most of this post!! though i'll be using a pastebin to talk about the final boss theme so keep that in mind)

it means extreme by the way

Session 1 Receive You Reborn

DUDE. 

I love this rendition so much. The revamped, heavy drums. The heavy guitar. THE VOCALIST. I can’t even understand Japanese but they add so so much to the track. I still haven’t played Kiwami myself but I know for a fact this ended up getting cut from the english release because of licensing funnies, and that just sucks, because this song ROCKS. A more than worthy rendition of the original, iconic theme. The lyrics actually make the song reflect into Nishiki instead of the original reflecting to Kiryu, which is just amazing. The lack of the “ROLLING EYES FALL” choir stings a little, sure, but it’s gonna take a lot more than that to take this track down. It’s so good. 

極龍の嘶き+ 極龍の胎動 (Roar of the Dragon Redux):

I’m assuming this is the main menu theme, and it’s pretty good at conveying the mood and atmosphere for the story, I feel. It’s quite the haunting melody, and I love those sirens at the very start, referencing the opening scene with Kiryu getting arrested. Pretty cooooooooool. 

Renewed Unrest:  (Remake of Unrest)

ok but listen to that bassline though. mmmmmmmm. 

The original Unrest track is one I’ll definitely remember: Yakuza 1’s atmosphere was one of its greatest strengths in my eyes, and that panic track solidified that a lot during those tense moments in the story. This remake is really good! It still has the strong atmospheric sound of the original, while giving it more instruments to work with. It tells you there’s danger right around the corner, but you don’t know when it’s gonna jump. 

迫 (Urgency): I think this is a blow to the city remake? I’m not confident in saying that. But hey, it’s another good, more tense panic theme. Not much to really say here, but I still like it. They use some unique instruments here (my dumbass only really noticed towards the end) and I think they’re awesome and add a lot to the (obvious) urgency of the track. 

Funk Goes On 極:

Kiwami!! It means extreme!! This is probably one of the more famous tracks in like… the whole series. I’m pretty sure most of its success is because of Majima Everywhere funnies. Anyways, I think the original wins out here, but Kiwami isn't bad at all. It’s definitely faster paced: whether or not you think that’s a good thing is up to preference, but it does make a distinction between the two. I’m much more preferable to the original’s rocky jazz. It feels more effortlessly badass, y’know? The techno in Kiwami isn’t bad, sure, but I feel it just lacks some of the punch the original had. 

Flirt With Bomb: (Remake of son of a gun)

Look how they massacred my boy… My son of a gun (2006)...

Alright, I’m not really being fair with this one, but I just vastly prefer the original. Still though, this is a solid track in its own right. It still gets the hype going, and I just love the buildup at the start. I like how they handled the techno here more than they did Funk Goes On Kiwami, honestly. But again, I just like son of a gun more. Like, way more. I’m getting sad just thinking about it. 

Scarlet Scar by Fierce Tiger: (Remake of Scarlet Scar)

Pretty sick, actually! I feel like this matches the original’s energy much more than the last two battle themes did. They even kept the original samples with unintelligible mouth noises and stuff!! And you gotta love those Y1 sirens, I love it when the tracks add that in. The original still feels like the heavier of the two, but this one still stands as an aggressive, raw track to match the Shimano Family’s brutishness. It's a bop either way, that's for sure.

Ideal For Violence: (Remake of Intelligence For Violence)

HELL YEAH DUDE!! 

I ADORE this track. I love the guitars. I love the little “YEAH YO!” at the start. I love those crass, vaguely drug-related (probably) unintelligible English vocals, and those guys yelling “YO! YO! YO!” with him. AND THAT SAX. That sax has been stuck in my mind for so long. I like the original Intelligence For Violence, sure, but Ideal is just amazing to me. Why does RGG keep giving Shindo the coolest tracks ever? Hell if I know, but I’m so glad this exists because of it.

Session 2

Get Over It

First completely original song I’m pretty sure, and comments are saying it’s the generic long battle theme. And I think it’s a pretty solid track! It does a good job at setting up the stakes and some of the tragedy of Y1’s fights, and again, I like some of those unique instruments they use. It’s almost trance-like in some sections. And that guitar section in the middle: that’s what really makes the track. It reminds me a lot of Solitude and that atmosphere of that track, and considering that’s one of my absolute favorite tracks in the series, that’s pretty high praise. It sounds dream-like, but still tense as hell and it really gets the blood pumping that way.

キワメシトキ (no translation sorry :C)

Apparently this is the theme for some prototype Extreme Heat/EX Boost/Install Super/Devil Trigger thing in Kiwami? Anyways, not really much to say here. The drums feel heavy I guess, but there’s just not much to this. Can’t imagine hearing it repeatedly either without getting at least somewhat annoyed at it. Meh. 

The End of the Dogma: (Remake of End of the Drama)

Alright, I’m feeling this one! I really like how they handled the techno here: the original feel can still definitely be felt strong, while still allowing it to crank it up a notch and be its own thing. The original still feels more raw, which honestly applies to almost all of the remakes, but this one hits hard in its own right. It’s those triple echoes, man. The WAH WAH WAH WAH WAH WAH WAH. I dig this one quite a bit! I’d personally put it on-par with the original. 

Pray Me ~Revive~:

they removed most of the unintelligible rap parts 0/10 remake

Look, I can excuse some songs just now quite matching the energy of the original, but I’m just not really on board with Revive. Of all the tracks in the original, Pray Me was probably the rawest sounding, angry track, and Revive tries to match it, but it just… doesn’t do it for me. There are some parts to like, of course: the more orchestral sounding sections near the end are pretty cool. But like…man. I just can’t help but feel a little let down by this one. It should feel like it’s more energetic, but it really doesn’t. It’s honestly not that bad, but compared to the original, it just can’t stand on its own. 

Receive You the madtype: (Remake of Receive You the Prototype)

CONFESSION: This is my least favorite of the Majima themes. There’s just something about it to me that I can’t really put my finger on. It just feels like it’s lacking something. Maybe Hyperactive and Subtype just spoiled me in regards to the more techno themes, I don’t know. It’s still good, don’t get me wrong, it’s probably one of the better tracks out of the OST so far, but man. I’m sorry I can’t explain it, I really am, but it just feels off to me. Cannot emphasize this enough, it’s still an actually pretty damn good song, but it’s just not for me personally with the competition it has to stand up to. Maybe I’ll warm up to it the more I listen to it like I did with Subtype, but for now, I think it’s the weakest Majima theme.

Virtical Point: (Remake of Turning Point)

I don’t know why they named it like that with the typo. Anyways, Turning Point is probably my favorite track in the original game, so I also walked into this one with pretty high expectations. And after listening to it, I honestly can’t really compare the two. But I can say I did quite like the track. I can feel the sorrow and the overall mood of the original more, but this one is literally just rave music. And I like Yakuza’s literally just rave music tracks, so… 

I can’t really say how much this would fit the big fight it plays in, because again, I haven't actually played the Kiwamis. But as a track, Virtical Point’s a hell of a vibe. I’m not saying it's completely devoid of that feeling the original had, the build-up sections are amazing, but I feel like they trade some of that for just pure techno blast. And I love those drops with the “FEEL THE FORCE” and “FEEL THE POWER''s. I’m glad this is probably what led them to create Rake Your Inside, which is very awesome and cool and swag.

End Point still better though don’t @ me 

Ogre Has Reborn: (Remake of Ogre Has Returned)

Don’t really know if this is gonna surprise anyone, but this is actually a remake of a Yakuza 3 track! Lau just used the generic boss theme in the original game. 

Anyways, this track’s interesting, because it sounds more… triumphant, more than anything? It’s really badass in a pretty unique way in that aspect. The first half conveys the intimidation part well, but the second half just sounds amazing. The original track does that too, and honestly I think it sounds better there, but here it feels more refined and even graceful. I dig the little Chinese motifs too, of course. Pretty dope track overall. It’s all ogre now.

The Wicked:

Another original track, and I can probably appreciate this one more than usual because I don’t have the nightmares it seems to be associated with. 

I quite like this one! Like the last track, it feels triumphant: it’s one last, herculean push to the finish line. The piano and string sections convey that really well, but it still exposes the wickedness of the other side. It still feels menacing, like evil itself. The choir actually fulfills both roles perfectly, too. The techno doesn’t feel too overbearing either, which can be a bit of a problem with the OST at times. 

Cool song that I’ll be glad to remember just as a cool song and not whatever nightmare boss fight Kiwami players had to sit through. 

Final Boss Theme pastebin: (spoilers, obviously)

Lunatic Warrior (Remake of Fiercest Warrior from Ishin!)WHERE’S THE “afloi” AT THE START????

Anyways, pretty cool track. It’s against some VERY stiff competition to me (I adore the Amon themes), and while I don’t think it’s quite as good as they are, this one still slaps. This is Kiryu and Amon’s (technically) first meeting, and it makes sense that it wouldn’t really be as menacing as stuff like K2’s Fiercest Warrior, for example. The main melody’s catchy and the choir remains amazing. And while it’s not AS menacing as some other Fiercest Warriors, it still fits that quota pretty well. This track has a lot of energy to it, which I appreciate. Plus they got the sirens back. I love the sirens. 

TAKUMI 2016 (Remake of TAKUMI 2009 from Yakuza 3)

I’ll have to admit that I wasn’t really a fan of the TAKUMI themes for a while, then I listened to 0’s again, and suddenly I think they’re awesome now. Anyways, this one’s definitely up there with 1988. This goes prettttyyyyyyyyy hard. I love the graceful mix of the traditional bits with the intense techno breaks: it makes for a pretty one-of-a-kind track while still being sick and feeling heavy. Pretty neat! 

Also it sounds like a song from one of the rhythm games I play (Rhythm Doctor) so it gets bonus points for reminding me of another game I really like. 

Amusing Octagon:

I knew this track from before this session because of a meme with Walter White complaining about not being able to play Yakuza Kiwami OST - 20 Amusing Octagon or something

It sounds like a Tekken track. Like, you could slap this onto some random character select screen and it’d probably fit perfectly. This hits pretty hard! It fits the colosseum vibe really well and just sounds great on top of that. It’s a fun track. Amusing, even. Maybe even Yakuza Kiwami OST - 20 Amusing Octagon or something

Session 3

Ruthless Octagon:

It’s a mean track. Ruthless, even. Maybe even uhhhhhh

I think Amusing’s the better Octagon here but this one’s decent too. I’m gonna assume this is what plays for final rounds, and it does a good job at conveying that last push feeling. It’s heavy, it gets the blood pumping, and again, fits the colosseum vibe like a glove. I've been told they used this for K2's colosseum too, and overall they made a pretty good choice for a track to bring back for it!

Set My Heart:

I have literally no idea what this plays for. It sounds like another character select screen to me. Anyways, really fun track! It’s short, sure, but it’s a funky little beat the whole time and doesn’t overstay its welcome. And I love those brass sections, making it even better. It’s just a short little vibe, and it doesn’t really need to be anything more than that. 

Everlasting Spirit:

This is randomly super catchy. Again, absolutely no idea what it plays for, but it’s a real earworm…

This sounds like something that would play while Kiryu busts a move with a completely straight face the whole time. I’d probably be dancing with him, too. Cool song! Gotta love that percussion. 

In a Dead Heat:

Now this one sounds like a customization menu theme for a racing game. Probably pocket circuit, if I’d have to guess. I really dig the guitar riffs they use here. It’s just a cool, short upbeat track to get you ready to very excitedly scream at toy cars. 

Beastie Beat:

so true beastie 

This one sounds really arcade-y, in a good way! It’s really fun and even feels a little nostalgic. Again, I dig the guitar riffs they use in this one. This definitely makes me want to very excitedly scream at toy cars. 

Smack In The Forest:

Sounds like a more intense version of the last track, like a final-lap scenario. It’s definitely more energetic and the guitar feels heavier. Something something scream at toy cars. Good track. I want to make out with pocket circuit fi

As a Memory:

I know for a FACT this plays in Yakuza 5. I can’t remember exactly when, but I’ve definitely heard it in there. Probably with Haruka. 

That aside, the track’s a little repetitive, but still pretty fun. It’s just a little something to maybe bop your head to for a few. I like the strong bassline throughout, it really adds a lot to the vibe. 

TONIGHT-restart from this night-【Full Spec Edition】:

I’m playing through 6 right now and I recently got to experience playing this song for the first time. You can’t do this to me RGG

It’s no secret Takaya Kuroda’s a great singer, but man… He really poured his soul out for this track. You can really just feel all the sorrow Kiryu’s had to bottle up. That chorus just hits so hard. 

those Y0 screenshots were a CHEAP SHOT AND YOU KNOW IT RGG. IT’S NOT FAIR DAMMIT 

意地桜 (Iji Sakura) 2000 [Full Spec Edition]:

I’ve listened to the Ishin version and I just like the more traditional, heartfelt ballad that one was, but this one just steers into a completely different direction and I just can’t dislike it for that. The instrumental is way more badass than it really has any right to be, lmao. This track makes me want to go outside and very angrily pluck out turnips from the ground. That chorus is just unbeatable in either version, and is very easily my favorite part of the song. Not really a karaoke song that I’ll be blasting on repeat, but it’s a pretty cool track nonetheless.

ばかみたい 哀愁 Baka Mitai ~Sorrow~ [Full Spec Edition]:

I had no idea Kiwami had a Baka Mitai remix! I was completely expecting to just skip this one because it’s… well, it’s Baka Mitai. Who in this community hasn’t heard it a million times? 

So it’s an acoustic cover with some strings slapped on there for good measure. I think the original still stands superior, but it’s still really neat that this gets to exist alongside it. It amplifies the sorrow a bit more (I mean I'd hope so from “Baka Mitai ~Sorrow~), and obviously Kuroda’s cover of Baka Mitai is legendary at this point. This was more or less destined to sound good no matter what, and again, it’s just really cool that this exists. 

Ishin spec still better though don’t @ me 

Moment de la Petite Sirene 刹那の人魚姫 (Heartbreak Mermaid) [Full Spec Edition]:

JAN! JAN! JAN! JAN!

This song caught me off-guard: it’s pretty damn good! I’m admittedly a sucker for this kind of music, and I honestly prefer this version to the original’s. It’s catchy, sounds a little nostalgic, and also has Spanish guitar. And Spanish guitar is always a win. The singer’s also pretty good, she really adds to the more laid back feeling this track has. It sounds like something I’d have blasting in my headphones while doing grocery shopping at 9AM. It just has that kind of vibe, I can’t really describe it in another way. 

ユーロde×3シャイン (x3 SHINE) [Full Spec Edition]:

Maybe a little too energetic for my tastes, I think the original does better here, but this isn’t a bad rendition. It’s just the chorus which is my problem, though. The original has such a memorable, fun chorus, but here it’s just not as strong. It might just be I find Yuki to be a way better vocalist, but eh. It feels like it loses itself a little with going all in with the energy. 

オトメタルmy life (Otometal my life) [Full Spec Edition]:

I love how split this track is. You got a guitar just FIGHTING FOR ITS LIFE in there, and Haruka just singing sweetly. No seriously, the instrumental’s so sick in this one. Haruka’s honestly a really good vocalist, and Kiryu just hyping his daughter up by putting his ALL into screaming for her is amazing as well. It’s so stupid, and it dedicates 100% effort to it anyways, and that results in this insane, fun karaoke song. Also completionists apparently hate this song for some reason, which I find very comedic. 

10/10. I thought it was “oatmeal” at first. Also made me forget this actually showed up in Yakuza 4 first. This one's cooler though

in conclusion and stuff

Overall, I'm pretty mixed on Kiwami's soundtrack. There are a couple of songs, while not bad, just don't really compare to the original. The techno direction isn't inherently bad (look at LJ, 0, LAD, those all have amazing music), but Kiwami can definitely go a little overboard with it, souring some songs.

That being said, Kiwami still has no shortage of just fantastic tracks. Ideal For Violence is literally the best thing ever, for example. The original tracks are pretty strong too, with Get Over It and The Wicked being tracks that really caught my attention. The karaoke selection's a nice little bonus too, basically being a remix selection, which is just fun.

Maybe I'd like Kiwami's soundtrack more if it didn't have to directly compare the whole thing to the original, but for what it's worth, I still think it has a very solid OST overall. RGG's composers are just on another level honestly

Since I had a lot of fun making this, I'll probably end up going wildly off-course for my original plan for these and just start doing full soundtrack write-ups. Oh well. I'll probably take a look at Kenzan's next, if that's the case. Until then, thanks for reading me ramble about video game osts for awhile :)

also i still promise i have swag please its not the only thing i listen to you have to believe me please don't leave pl

[beautifulreflections]

Blog Post 6: These are a few of my favorite things.

Blog Post 6: These are a few of my favorite things.

This is my second go around here at Clayton State. Three years after high school I graduated with my associates degree in Music and went on to Clayton State University. I changed my major to Communications and Media studies, but never finished. I got married, and we had two beautiful boys, but then, years later, I was reminded of something I desired from long ago. So, I went back to school with the Lord reminding me that He would be with me and He would help me complete this bachelor's degree. So here I am now.

The first time around in college I didn’t do my best. I was distracted by fun and friends, and I missed the joy of learning all I could in that season. This time I vowed to do it differently. I decided to give each and every class and assignment my very best. I wouldn’t just pass through; I would do it well. I would study and learn all I could with great intentionality. I can tell you this, I have enjoyed every second of studying literature and taken something meaningful from every class thus far, and I intend to continue in this manner.

So, looking back it is clear I have matured tremendously. And though I haven’t arrived I am pressing towards the goal to finish and complete my bachelor’s here and then after this to finish my Master’s Degree in Theology from Dallas Theological Seminary. I am a avid learner, and I guess this explains my love for teaching. It is my opinion that the best teachers are lifelong learners. I am a teacher at a small but thriving Christian Academy. I teach music, and though the pay is meager the joy I have in teaching these little ones about God, my first love, and music, a strong third love right behind my family, it is my great honor and privilege.

I wasn’t always zealous for the Lord Jesus Christ, though I did love Him in the way that I knew how, which was mostly religious practices without any revelation of the relationship aspect of knowing God; it wasn’t a thriving relationship. After I battled with postpartum depression, I found the Lord in a new way, and I felt His close and tangible presence that transformed my life. I will never turn back to Sunday morning Christianity. It is dull and not what God intended for the human soul. Now I write Christian devotionals and have a ministry devoted to encouraging and equipping the Saints to be light in darkness. My life was changed forever by Jesus- not religion, and I will never again be the same.

I am Puerto Rican, and have a love for good food, family fun, and the beach any time I can get there. As a family we love to hike, camp, and play music together. I sing and play guitar, and my husband as well as our sons play the drums. Music is important to us.  I am learning to find great contentment in the mundane times by looking at this life as an opportunity and not a burden. To me living life fully means enjoying every single moment and learning from the hardships without staying stuck in the struggle. My heart is set on living every day for the glory of God alone, which you see written in Latin as Soli Deo Gloria. My life isn’t perfect by any means but it is good because I believe in a good God who works all things together for my good and His glory.

I found hope in the cross of Jesus Christ. He renewed and restored me by pulling me out of the pit, setting my feet on a rock, and by putting a new song of praise in my mouth. Now I am overwhelmingly grateful to be alive, and thankful to be where I am; here, writing to you. I know that not everyone shares the same beliefs as me, but I do believe there is great beauty in each person’s story, and I feel there is great power in sharing it. In relation to my story, here are the bible verses I claim:  

Psalms 40:2-3

He also brought me up out of a horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, and established my steps. He has put a new song in my mouth— Praise to our God; Many will see it and fear and will trust in the LORD.

            May your life be filled with great joy and peace as you go forward in accomplishing these many goals to better yourself and your future generations.  I am cheering for you.

[palilalia]

PAL-073 Bill Orcutt LP "Jump On It" Release date: April 28, 2023

Jump On It by Bill Orcutt

BUY LP

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It’s been ten years since Bill Orcutt released A History of Every One, a compendium of hacksaw renditions of American standards on acoustic guitar — and since ten years is a blink of an eye, you are forgiven for not immediately realizing that we've gone an entire decade waiting for Jump On It, the next Orcutt solo acoustic record. As those of us of “a certain age” will tell you (ad nauseam), a decade is a blink of an eye containing an infinity of experiential moments, and if this record is any gauge, the weight of those experiences have squashed Orcutt’s rough edges, feathered his stop-motion timing into a languid lyrical flow, and snapped the shackles tethering his instant compositional skills to the imperative to deconstruct guitar history. In short, Jump On It is a collection of canonical, mature acoustic guitar soli to contrast against the fractured downtown conceits of previous acoustic releases. For those paying attention to the arc of Orcutt’s electric records, which chart a course from Quine’s choppiness to Thompsonian / Verlaine-ian flow, it should be no surprise that the ten year gap between acoustic records should expose a similar underlying journey.

But what’s maybe more surprising is that Jump On It, with its living-room aesthetics and big reverb, packs a disarming intimacy absent from the formal starkness of Orcutt’s earlier acoustic outings. Although you might sense the looming human in the audible breath whispering intermittently between chords (a physical flourish reminiscent of the late Jack Rose), such documentarian signposts are the exception rather than the rule. Not quite refuting (yet not quite embracing) the polish of revered watershed records by Bert Jansch, John Renbourn, or Bola Sete, Jump On It treads a path between the raw and the refined, exemplified in tracks such as “The Life of Jesus” and “In a Column of Air” that alternate swaying chords with Orcutt’s trademark angular quicksilver runs (cut brick-wall short). While you won’t mistake Jump On It for incidental music, at least not if taken at full strength, stray passages radiate a conversational beauty that would please the most dissonance-adverse listener.

Strangely, some of the melted lockstep grooves found in Jump On It evoke nothing other than Music for Four Guitars. While many of the linear runs are clearly improvised, and the phrasing distinctly slurred, intuitive and non-mechanical, the strummed chords hint at a cellular construction similar to Jump On It’s electric predecessor. (Orcutt states that he prefers to keep his strategies obscure — but that implies there is in fact a strategy).

Whatever the case, I also hear Satie in Music for Four Guitars, and I hear him here too, hidden within Jump On It’s lilting repetition, which I easily imagine stretching to an infinitely-distant horizon. Like each of Satie's three Gymnopedies, each facet of Jump On It is a tiny miniature bound in a slim volume, an earworm you might savor again and again upon awakening or before drifting off. Each track is a key to a memory, a building block in a shining anamnesis leading to the recollection that hey, we’re all humans in a shared cosmos, and music is one way we might make that universe go down easy. And who wouldn't jump on that? — Tom Carter