#helm sound artist

[musicollage]

Helm — Saturnalia. 2020 : Alter.

! acquire the album ★ attach a coffee !

[mariacrow]

Could I request a headcannon for TFP characters on their favorite genre of music? Maybe also them listening to said music with a female reader? However you wish to spin it 😊

~TFP characters~

🎵 their favorite music genre 🎵

2nd person

female reader

WARNING: TOO MUCH SHMOOVING 🕺🎶

Dividers belong to @friedchickenburguer 🖤

❃ AUTOBOTS ❃

🎼 Optimus Prime

He doesn’t express his passion for music, he keeps that in private

He loves old music, precisely from 40s and 50s

He likes the sounds of gentle trumpets, trombones, violins etc.

He likes it slow and classy, something relaxing

Jazz might be his thing too

When he’s driving alone he loves keeping the radio on a super vintage radio station

When he’s with you he’d be kinda shy to play it, assuming you don’t like it because you’re born in such modern time

When (if) you’d assure him you like it, you’d warm his spark as he’d finally get to share and enjoy the music he likes with you

He’d tell you why he likes each song and which part is his favorite

🎼 Ratchet

He’d claim he hates music, how it’s merely a distraction

Nonetheless, when you or any of the kids would play something in the base, at times he wouldn’t immediately tell you to turn it off or keep it down because he’d like it

His preference isn’t clear because you could catch him slightly moving to the beat to song from the 80s over 2000s to the newest

He wouldn’t even notice he’s slightly shmooving to the beat

Only when you’d giggle and tell him he’s got some moves, he’d get flustered and immediately stop, denying it

After some time, he’d admit he likes some songs you’d play and would allow you to use the radio when he’s driving you

🎼 Bumblebee

Definitely a 70s and 80s boi

He loves shmooving like crazy

Play ABBA or something and he’s all over the place and no one can stop him

He’s very stubborn when it comes to his music taste and will openly tell you when he thinks your music taste is trash or if it’s his favorite

While in the car, he wouldn’t let you touch the radio- heck he wouldn’t let you get NEAR IT if you aren’t planning to play a song he likes

He’s the head DJ in the car AND in the base

When Ratchet tells him to turn it off or lower the volume, he’d just turn it up to annoy him and dance all over the place

🎼 Bulkhead

ROCK N ROLL BABYYYYY

Miko and him are replacing Bumblebee when he’s absent

2nd head DJs in the base

He’s all about that electric guitar and drums

He likes some of heavy metal too

If you like this kind of music, you’d be a part of their band

Ratchet’s biggest nightmare is that goddamn guitar of Miko’s I’m telling you

Of course Wheeljack is a part of the band as well

You and Miko in the front seat shmooving to some heavy guitar and screaming the lyrics while he’s flooring it through the city is another one of his fav bonding moments

🎼 Arcee

Definitely likes something calm she can sing to

For example Lana Del Rey but also something classy like Amy Whinehouse

Definitely your favorite feminist, prefers female artists

She actually sings beautifully but is kinda shy to show her talent

Perhaps she’d show it to you if she’d you’d encourage her enough

If you like to sing this is your chance to sing with her and have girly concert Fridays!

She’d actually love concerts and would gladly drive you to any you wish to see

Would ONLY share her music taste with you

🎼 Wheeljack

Not only rock n roll, aggressive type of music in general

Perhaps something modern too, like phonk for example

He likes something that makes the lights flash in the club and that can make his helm bop in a quick manner

Max volume all the time, especially in his ship when he’s alone or when driving

Would appreciate your company if you don’t mind the speakers making you bounce in your seat

He’s a great opportunity for a good o’ music vent

If you feel pent up he’s a great partner to just let it out with the help of music with him

He also likes some jazz, especially during intimacy

🎼 Smokescreen

His music taste can be very basic

He’s quite flexible and actually rarely dislikes any song you show him

He lets you fidget with the radio when he’s driving you

At times he can be greedy and start a stupid funny argument about who’s gonna choose a radio station or play the next song

Sometimes he can lean more towards rap and trap, especially 2000s

He likes freaky lyrics he can spontaneously flirt with like “Freek-a-leek” or “Baby Got Back”

He loves to dance and thinks he has good moved while in fact he look too funny trying to impress everyone, especially you

🎼 Ultra Magnus

Music? What’s that?

Well perhaps he would secretly like some songs you’d play in the base

And he’d secretly explore the radio stations while driving alone

He likes classy music with meaningful lyrics

Perhaps Elvis Presley and Frank Sinatra would be his top choice

Absolutely despises modern music, doesn’t understand it a all

For him, a song means a catchy tune with lyrics that he can devote to someone, that remind him of someone or himself or just have a deep meaning

VERY BY THE BOOK!

When you’d catch him enjoying some music he’d deny it in any possible way

His music taste is a top secret!!!

Divider belongs to @attxnt 🖤

✦ DECEPTICONS ✦

🎼 Megatron

At first he’d find anything that humans create primitive, as well as music

But I mean how can you not like our music, some stuff is really catchy!

When the Nemesis would accidentally catch a radio signal he’d immediately order Soundwave to turn it off

But when he hears a nice electric guitar and some bass he’d like it

Not that he’d admit though, never

He isn’t a fan of… joy lmao so he wouldn’t listen to any music on his own

When you’d play some music in the lab, he’d scold you and tell you to keep it down

But when he doesn’t yell at you to turn it off immediately that’s when you know he likes it

🎼 Starscream

Definitely a huge Lady Gaga fan

When he’s alone he blasts it and sings, dances, imagines he’s on a concert, the main star

His ego would take over when he’d imagine a thick crowd shouting “All hail superstar Stascream!” or something

He’d reject any other artist, Lady Gaga is his one and only

He’d even order you to play Lady Gaga in the lab

If you wouldn’t do it, he’d remind you who he is, your commander and that you shall oblige

He’d tell you how your music taste is primitive and how only Lady Gaga is the real queen

🎼 Knockout

Also a Lady Gaga fan but not as big as Starscream

He’s more flexible when it comes to music but he definitely prefers classy female singers

An artist needs to be aesthetically pleasing to him, especially their voice

He likes when a woman’s voice is dominating in the song more than the instruments

Lyrics needs to be stuck in his head so he’d officially say he likes the song

He’d let you show him some of your favorite songs and he’d openly tell you if it’s trash or not

Would definitely argue with you over who’s gonna play music in the lab

You’d argue to the point Shockwave would have to take your source of music and put it away

🎼 Breakdown

RAAAAAAHHH!!!

Sex, violence, murder, violence, gambling, greed, lechery- (that Tom Hardy meme)

Definitely likes his song loud and explicit

He also likes hardstyle, it REALLY gets him going before battle, aggressive phonk too

Anything that can express his inner aggression is his thing

But don’t let this fool you

When he’s alone and emotional he cries to sad songs

Lana Del Rey really strikes his heart especially because he’s in love with her and her voice

If you ever catch him crying to Lana, he’ll deny it

With you he’d prefer blasting some hardstyle or rap in the car

If you don’t like it, he’s gonna do it anyway because he’d play it so loudly that he probably won’t even hear you complain

🎼 Dreadwing

Again not someone who listens to music on his own

Nevertheless, he likes romantic tunes he can gently sway with you to

Deep down he’s a romantic soul which you’d realize when in private with him

And he’s very intelligent too which would intrigue him to search for some high class music by Earth’s most popular compositors (Beethoven for example)

A gentle piano and violin as well as violoncello are his fav

He’d be impressed by our instruments, he can get curious hence he would like to ask you and discuss with you about them

He doesn’t understand modern music and really doesn’t like it

Though he might like some unique musicians of the 21st century

🎼 Soundwave

He’s an open book really, he knows everything about human music

He’s also a type of mech to avoid lyrics

He prefers only instruments, from old acoustic to new electric

Unlike Dreadwing, he likes his music a bit faster with more energy that can make the line on his visor dance

He rarely listens to music though, he’s too busy

He’d get curious to know your taste of music so he might stalk sound waves coming from your device

He’d surprise you when he’d play some music for you

Of course he’d prefer all that to stay a secret between you two

🎼 Shockwave

Music is a distraction for him

No music allowed in the lab when he’s there

Though because he’s fond of you he might let you play some but quietly

He doesn’t really have a preference, he’s too busy to even pay attention to what you’re playing

Nonetheless SOME tunes might catch his attention and make his antennas wriggle

It would probably be some older music with no drums or bass or anything, just pure, gentle tones and voices

He would keep it to himself but maybe, just maybe, he’d occasionally tell you he approves your choice

[alder-saan]

Why hello it’s me again…I absolutely adored the last writing you did for me I was wondering if I could request another… or course as a Cersei simp maybe a Cersei x FemMaiden/Nanny for her children ? Where Cersei is frustrated and lashes out on her secret girlfriend and for once feels horrible about it ?

If that’s confusing I apologize!

Much love ❤️

I believe you

Okay okay, I went somehow a bit far with this one. That's why I need to say something : VIOLENCE ISN'T OKAY. This is a fiction. I wrote it trying not to romantize it too much. If your partner (or just a friend, or a relative) hit you, that's a real problem, and don't hesitate to ask for help. I made an open ending, if reader forgive or not, that's up to you. And sorry, it's a bit shorter that the usual, but I didn't want to write many description (bcz of artistic reasons?)

Cersei Lannister x Reader

TW : physical violence, torture (on animals), Jeoffrey Lannister

Words count : ~ 1300

“No Jeoffrey, your mother told you to stay in your room.”

“You’ll have to make me, worthless servant!”

You held back from slapping him. He was still a boy, but already unbearable. You were usually taking care of Myrcella, but today, Jeoffrey’s nanny was sick, and Cersei had asked you to watch him, while she found a replacement. But this situation made you nervous. You didn’t like him. He was unbearable. And Myrcella  told you about him, about the way he acted. He was pure evil.

“Now, find something to do in your room.”

You really missed Myrcella, right now. Calm, daydreaming almost all day…

“Come with me then. You wouldn’t want someone to attack me, would you? Or maybe you are a traitor, and my mother will hear about it.”

You sighed.

“Yes, I will come with you.”

You led the way to his room. You really didn’t like it. It was always full of agonising insects, to which he removed the legs and wings “for fun”. Once, you saw him playing with the body of a half dead cat, and almost threw up. This child was really scary.

But how could you refuse anything from Cersei, your Cersei… Especially when she asked you something in the morning, while you were waking up naked in her bed. The thoughts of your last night spent in her sheets made you shudder. That was a few days ago. You missed her. She has been busy these days, and has had no time for you. But that was okay, you knew once everything was done, it would be nice again.

You entered his room, shivering. Now you just had to watch him until evening. You sat on a chair and opened the book you brought to pass time. 

Soon you heard a strange, almost plaintive squeaking sound.

“What are you doing, Jeoffrey?”

“I’m dismembering a beetle! It’s fun, it’s screaming!”

“Stop hurting animals.”

“It’s just a beetle!”

“And yet it can feel pain. If not, it wouldn’t scream like this.”

“You’re not funny.”

You didn’t answer and continued reading your book.

When Jeoffrey approached you, you ignored him. He made you feel really uncomfortable, and so you didn’t want to speak to him or to do something with him.

Then you felt him prick your hand which was under the book with a needle. 

“Do you feel pain?” he asked.

Your body reacts by itself and you hit him with your book.

“You son of a b-” You stopped before insulting your lover.

While he was crying on the floor, because you hit him, you felt a bit guilty. But you couldn’t move to help him and comfort him. He was a horrible child who loved torturing animals. You were not sure he deserved your helm.

“My mother will hear about this!”

“Yeah, go tell your mother.”

You trusted her. She would believe you, you knew it. And as Jeoffrey ran out of his room, you opened your book again and continued reading, for a few minutes. You enjoyed the stillness of the room, without him in it.

Soon you heard the door slamming open.

“Y/N!”

You turned your head towards Cersei, who was yelling your name, Jeoffrey in her arms.

“You had ONE job! Watching Jeoffrey! First you let him escape from his room, without monitoring, and now I learnt you beat Jeoffrey?”

“I didn’t-”

“Shut up, I’m talking. I like you, Y/N, but you know full well there are three people in the world you can’t hurt if you want to keep me by your side, right? Jeoffrey is one of them.” 

Okay, she was really mad. She was looking at you with such anger in her eyes. That was terrifying. She was unrecognisable, Cersei had never been so rude with you. You stood up and walked towards her.

“I’m sorry that was a… It was a reflex, I didn't do it on purpose”

“A reflex? Beating my child? A REFLEX?”

“No, I-”

SMACK

You held your breath. A burn was beginning to invade your cheek. You put your hand on it. It was hot. What had just happened?

“That was a reflex, Y/N. Now out.”

You choked back a sob and swallowed your tears. You didn’t want her to see you crying. And while you were walking out of the room, Jeoffrey gave you a big winning smile. You had lost.

You spent the rest of the day in your little room. Lying in bed, snuggled up in the covers, you were crying. You didn't really know why. Were you crying because she had hit you? Was it because you had disappointed her? Was it because Jeoffrey had won? Maybe the three of them. You left your hand on your cheek, even though you were no longer in pain. Why? Why did she do that? Why did she have this look? Why didn’t she believe you? Didn’t she trust you?

Someone knocked upon your door.

You ignored them and tried not to make a sound.

“Y/N, I know you’re here. Open the door.”

You couldn’t reprime a sob when you heard Cersei’s voice.

Silence.

“Open this door, please. I want to talk to you”

You stood up and wiped your tears. Your eyes were still red and puffy. “I look terrible,” you thought as you were seeing them in the small mirror on your wall. You opened the door. She entered and closed it behind her. You couldn’t look her in the eye. When she approached her hand, you took a step back.

“Y/N… I… I’m so sorry. It was mean of me, I have no excuse. But I wanted to apologise to you.”

“That’s okay, your Highness. I’m okay”

“You’re not. That’s not. I hurt you. Physically and mentally.”

You couldn’t speak. Maybe because you didn’t want to.

“Jeoffrey told me you had been violent with him, he told me you kicked him… At first I didn’t believe him, but when I saw his red cheek… Please, tell me what happened.”

“While I was reading, he stuck a needle in my hand. I swear I didn’t want to hit him, but my hand moved anyway and… And I hit him, yes.”

“You didn’t kick him? You didn’t beat him?”

“I didn’t. That was an accident. I’m so sorry.”

“I believe you. That’s not the first time he lies.”

You nodded. She took your hand. You wanted to escape, but you couldn’t move.

“Please, give me another chance. One. Just one chance. I don’t want to lose you. Not like that.”

“I’m afraid…” you whispered “You looked so angry at me… I couldn’t recognize you. As if I didn’t know you.”

“I’m sorry, this week was exhausting, I… I’m tired, I’m stressed out, I’m overworked, and I miss you. I overreacted. I shouldn’t have, I know. That’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Some tears rolled on your cheeks, and she cupped your face and wiped them.

“I’m so sorry, darling. Believe me.” 

You sobbed, and she held you tight. You snuggled into her arms, your head resting on her shoulder. As you were crying, she kissed your forehead and your hair.

“If you need time, I understand. I would wait a thousand years for you.”

“I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t. Don’t be sorry. I told you none of this is your fault.”

You nodded, she kissed your head again and again.

“I have to go, love, I have another meeting. But I’ll return to you right after. Okay?”

“Okay, Cersei.”

She was slowly removing her arms from your back, when you stopped her.

“Before you go, can you… kiss me?” you asked

“You want me to kiss you?”

“Yes, please.”

She pressed her lips against yours. That wasn’t what you were used to. Usually, she would kiss you as if it was the last time, as if she wanted to eat you entirely. Now, it was soft, it was gentle. As if the kiss was whispering “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry”.

_________________________________________________

Again, violence isn't okay.

[keepingupwithzaynmalik]

ZAYN Signs With Mercury Records Ahead of New Music

The singer, who was previously signed to RCA Records, has a new single coming "very soon this summer."

ZAYN has signed a new record deal with Mercury Records, Billboard can confirm. Along with the news, the singer wiped his social media yesterday and has launched a new pre-save link and teaser in preparation for his Mercury Records debut single, which is said by the label to be arriving “very soon this summer.” A former member of One Direction and a chart topper in his own right, ZAYN was previously signed to RCA Records. Sources close to the singer told Billboard that the new music ZAYN is making marks a major departure from the sound that defined his previous hits like “PILLOWTALK” and “I Don’t Wanna Live Forever.” Label president Tyler Arnold says of the deal, “As soon as ZAYN and I met, I knew we had to work together. I was blown away by the new music, but just as impressed by his vision, drive and spirit. We’re honored he and his team have joined us at Mercury Records. We’ve got an incredible opportunity to tell the next chapter of his story together.” Mercury Records was relaunched in April 2022 as a U.S. imprint of Republic Records, helmed by Arnold and Ben Adelson as president and general manager, respectively. Mercury’s roster includes Post Malone, whom Arnold signed to Republic in 2015, and James Bay, signed by Adelson in 2014. Other signees at Mercury’s launch included Stephen Sanchez, Chelsea Cutler, Jeremy Zucker, Lord Huron, Noah Kahan, BoyWithUke, Ka$hdami, Lyn Lapid and Camylio. Mercury Records also acts as the hub for Republic’s partnerships with Big Loud Records, home to Morgan Wallen, and Imperial Music, the independent distributor that released Bo Burnham‘s Inside (The Songs). As a solo artist, ZAYN has released three records: Mind of Mine (2016), Icarus Falls (2018), and Nobody is Listening (2021). They peaked at No. 1, No. 61 and No. 44 on the Billboard 200 chart, respectively. He has also placed six songs in the top 50 on the Pop Airplay chart, including two in the top 10. “PILLOWTALK” peaked at No. 1, and “I Don’t Wanna Live Forever” reached No. 2 on the chart. The two songs also reached those same chart positions on Billboard’s Hot 100 chart as well. You can pre-save ZAYN’s upcoming single here. VIA BILLBOARD

[hyperdrama]

another terrible playlist round-up

i think i'll just do these periodically every few months! as of last year i started archiving my own physical collection (including borrowing from libraries and friends) and have moved away from streaming music entirely. i cannot in good consciousness continue paying for streaming services and dislike how their algorithms have impacted my own media habits, especially in regards to music (another post for another time, i'm saving for my blogspot)

that said, that's just for me. i've been making these in foobar2000 and putting them on spotify for ease of access to everyone else!

2024 release radar - i do these every year. to the best of my ability, collecting almost everything i discover in one year. artists i already enjoy and any of the new discoveries in between.

hangover remedy - what the title says! featuring some kelala, carly rae jepsen, IU, taeyeon, pinkpantheress and slowdive. easy starts to the morning after a night out but enough to wake you up.

me when i can't just rot in bed all day - my partner and i collaborated on this one. songs for when you just want to rot in bed all day. featuring the likes of faye webster, airiel, chelsea wolfe, title fight, superheaven, mbv. a great little snapshot of our separate tastes.

me time - i think i was writing a story about a young woman who realises she's a werewolf trapped in a castle and i have no idea where i was going with that, but here's the playlist. vibes are all over the place. featuring patti smith, joan baez, liz phair, soho rezanejad, fiona apple, abba.

lighter than air - a fun playlist that i like to listen to for background noise for cooking, editing, working from home. a little on the nu metal side of things, with other 90s bands i like. featuring: sunk loto, rina sawayama, sugar ray, limp bizkit, nine inch nails.

whatever, go my scarab! - songs for cursing your enemies with a plague of scarabs. featuring riders of rohan (my favourite discovery last year - yes it's another Tolkien metal band but they also sound like the B-52's and i kind of think it's campy brilliance), doro, motorhead, helm's deep, bathory, king diamond. you get the drift.

tobias forge's RAGE abc guest programmer playlist - yes it's not mine but he picked a great selection of tracks. really loved the 3am-4am "just fuck me up" section that featured ABBA, the black eyed peas, daft punk, lenny kravitz and bruce springsteen back to back. if that isn't a mood at those hours of the day i don't know what is.

[witchofthesouls]

This was a weird crossover thought, but hey, it’s a rare pair:

Grandmama Frump has no idea how, what, when, and where the ancient grimoire had dumped her, nor the spellwork that pushed her into a metal body, but the entrails did say she will be on quite a transformative journey. Meets up with the DJD by intercepting on their List. Not her fault if the mechs were stupid enough to bother her and joins them after admiring their skills. Grandmama Frump and Vos would get along like fire on a gasoline-soaked body.

She can fully appreciate a being that can fully transform into a sniper rifle. Granny Frump prefers to go down and bloody close to the target, so she tries to convince him to get a bayonet attachment.

Nothing says romance than a personal stab, together.

Just as nothing says “I love you” so much to an Addams than causing chaos, mayhem, and murder with a partner, especially if they could literally use their partner. How intimate…

Vos and Grandmama would croon sweet nothings full of murderous intentions to each other. Unfortunately, they do all the time, especially during meals.

No one understands what the hell they’re saying since they’re speaking in the respective dead language of Primal Vernacular and Ancient French. Except for Tarn… and he’s dying from the horniness.

The leader of the DJD feels beyond uncomfortable, but Tarn can’t turn away when Granny climbs into Vos’ lap, face to face as she steadies herself with his shoulders. The romantic locked deep in his untouched spark practically swoons as Granny tenderly cradles Vos’ mask and simultaneously recoils from what Vos purrs back.

There are some things a mech is not meant to know. Please stop playing with the ruffles and seams of her armor.

Actually, everyone is dying from the horniness. They may not understand, but even the blind mech could feel that raw tension.

There’s many strange sounds in Vos' habsuite. It’s screaming. A lot of screaming. Not of terror. Sometimes agony, but it’s mixed with pleasure. With laughter. High and demented that leaves scratches over a brain module, like rusted nails shoved deep into a helm.

Once it stops, the door opens to dreamy Frump swaying to invisible music as she heads to the shower rack.

The way she moves is reminiscent to the artistic bodily freedom of the Golden Age music underground and the famed courtesans of the High Towers and Primal Palace: strangely sensual and oddly provocative in its fluid grace of free-form steps and twirls. The armor she uses doesn’t help, it sways to her movement.

Vos, in berth and completely enraptured, watches on, smoking a cygar.

Tarn and Kaon gives him hell for it since the ship has designated smoking areas and the communication officer hates the smell leaking to his hab.

Grandmama had commandeered the kitchen and refuses to let anyone else into it. Not even if it causes the fire alarms and toxicity sensors to blare. She has it well in hand, sonny! There are at least three cauldrons always on the flames from a sweet simmer to furiously frothing to the point the lid will become a deadly projectile. The smell can be absolutely delightful or completely atrocious -far, far worse than Tesarus not properly deep-cleaning his most inward blades.

Tarn has no idea if Granny Frump is trying to kill them by an obvious poisoning attempt since whatever she heaved over to the shared table is... ghastly vibrant with a sludge-like consistency. And possibly in its dying throes as she smacks the cauldron insides with a spiked ladle. And he’s absolutely not imagining that muted shriek-

Between Nickel’s medical programs, Tesarus’ ununtrium-coated tank, and Helex’s ability to heat his own internals to a deadly scorch to kill everything, they can take on whatever malice she wields.

Luckily, there’s the usual Energon dispenser in the mess hall, but Tarn can only watch in mute horror as everyone else eats it, even the Pet enjoys it.

Helex and Tesarus wolf down over half the cauldron with large doses of aluminum flakes and cobalt swirls. Kaon eventually switches to the dispenser, but only because the smell overrides the lovely taste. Vos eats his extra blended portion with a straw. Even Nickel is in on it: sipping on her bowl with a side of boron biscuits.

He is not the weird one. He is not-

[moonchild-in-blue]

darya can you give me some soft song suggestions?? 👀

Boy, can I??

Okay, SO! This is a bit of a mix of genres/vibes I suppose, to give it a bit of variety. Also it's highly biased list since these are quite literally some of my all time favourites ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (blue for my mostest beloveds!)

(cut here because i don't wanna spam people's dash. It's so longggg omgiapologiseoop-)

Indie / Pop vibes (aka more on the mainstream artists spectrum):

Cigarettes After Sex - Sweet ; K

Billie Eilish - i love you ; everything i wanted

Rex Orange County - Untitled ; Happiness

Bon Iver - Flume ; Holocene ; Wash (he's one of my top 3 artists of all time omg i love him so much everything he does is perfect 💙 also a certain someone has cited him as an influence... :::) )

Ry X - Sweat ; Only

Cuco - Hydrocodone ; Amor de Siempre (my beloved chicano 💙 - lofi pop vibes)

Joji - Glimpse of Us ; Ew ; Like You Do (i would give up my kidneys for him)

Frank Ocean - Pink + White (maybe not super singing-friendly but I had to include him) ; Bad Religion (not exactly soft per-se but it's beautifully heartbreaking)

Bright Eyes - Lime Tree ; Lua

Jake Bugg - Love, Hope and Misery

Owl City - Vanilla Twilight

Rock / Metal / Alt vibes (i'm leaving a million bands out because otherwise this would just be my depression list... I listen to a lot of sad/angsty stuff lol)

All Time Low - Therapy ; Somewhere in Neverland (there's an acoustic version of it!)

Being As An Ocean - Dissolve

Bring Me The Horizon - Deathbeads ; Follow You

Crown The Empire - Millennia ; Lead Me Out Of The Dark ; For Days

Dayshell - A Waste Of Space

Linkin Park - Iridescent ; The Messenger (just typing this already broke my heart)

Of Mice & Men - Space Enough To Grow

Our Last Night - Falling Away

Panic! At The Disco - Northern Downpour ; She Had The World ; The End Of All Things (i am a panic girlie what can i say)

Parachute - Kiss Me Slowly (the cutest love song ever omg)

Plain White Ts - 1, 2, 3, 4 ; Hey There Delilah (sure it's mainstream but whatever it's beautiful)

Pierce The Veil - I'm Low On Gas (...) ; She Makes Dirty Words Sound Pretty

Queen - Love Of My Life (this one is a must ugh the cutesttt)

Real Friends - I've Given Up On You (my heartbreak song lmaoo) ; Sixteen

Red - Nothing and Everything ; Of These Chains (these are sad and emotionally heavy btw. one of my all time favourite bands everyone should listen to them more)

Seahaven - Honey Bee ; Silhouette

Sleeping With Sirens - Don't Fall Asleep At The Helm ; 2 Chord

Eepie Voucher - Drag Me Under ; Telomeres ; Give ; Shelter (i know it's unnecessary but!!! Oh well)

The Story So Far - Navy Blue ; Phantom

Twenty One Pilots - The Hype (specifically the Locations - Berlin version) ; Truce

Vinyl Theatre - Thank You For The Good Times ; Speak My Mind (it has soft vibes, you'll get it if you listen. They are crazy good and criminally underrated)

Random Songs that I just remembered lmao:

The Beatles - Yesterday

Maroon 5 - She Will Be Loved

Goo Goo Dolls - Iris (SWS covered it and I love that version so so much)

Joe Brooks - Superman

Iron & Wine - Flightless Bird, American Mouth

Elliott Smith - Between The Bars

Terrenoire - Jusqu'à Mon Dernier Souffle (my fav frenchies)

Over The Garden Wall - Send Me A Peach (i sing this song at least once a day 🥺)

Kermit The Frog - Rainbow Connection (lmao i knowwww but this is one of my all time favourite songs hahaha it makes me so happy and soft and yeah 🥺🌈)

Baby I'm so sorry for the never ending list. I literally just scrolled through my music player curating songs. And I know I'm forgetting a million other songs but OH WELL 🥺💙💚

[carrion-carry-on]

Meeting Music

Okay so this is a (quite short) fic involving @cuppajj ‘s wonderful OC Drillburst, and my own OC Pillar.

When it comes to writing with another person’s OC, I do my best to get into contact with their creator. And Cuppa has been amazing with that! Still, regardless, any mistakes are completely my own.

Arriving back on Cybertron following the end of the war was different for every mech. That much was to be expected. Being that the Autobots had “won,” arriving in the company of two former Decepticons made things a touch more complicated. Iona, for her part, kept up her air of apathetic arrogance. Ace asked what was going on about halfway through each new vetting process; all these new faceplates and designations did no wonders on his already fragile comprehension. Pillar tried to manage both his comrades’ aggression and confusion the best way he knew how - by being present. He insisted that for every interview, every test, every licensing exam, he needed to be in the room. He wasn’t about to let two of the few good sparks he had left be screwed over by the new-age society that wasn’t as righteous and non-judgemental as it proclaimed itself to be.

This meant, by the end of the whole thing, Pillar was absolutely exhausted. he didn’t like socializing at the best of times. Two friends he could handle - he’d been stuck out in space with them, on a tiny shuttle, for Primus-knew-how-long. But all of the red tape and hoop jumping wore his people-skills to a thin line. When he snapped at Iona to “just buff her chassis herself” (which had been received with a mild raise of an optical ridge) Pillar knew he needed to get out on his own again. Murmuring an apology, Pillar quickly excused himself and retreated from the room, grabbed his tool kit, and transformed to race off down the unfamiliar streetways.

After some wandering, and realizing he recognized absolutely nothing, Pillar resigned himself to peaking his helm into random places until he found something suitable. He needed a smaller place, without too-boisterous of an atmosphere, and a good corner to hide away in. There was no way he’d be able to find a mech-less place in this city. But the fewer, the better.

He discovered his space for the off-cycle in a smaller, quieter bar. The moment his green optics peered inside and found a mix of Decepticons, Autobots, and even NAILs, Pillar felt a bit more at ease. Maybe, if he ever felt like risking the company, he might even bring Iona and Ace here. His entrance went unnoticed. To his surprise, and appreciation, Pillar noted more easily-accessible seating scattered throughout the main floor. It felt nice not to have to hop a bit to get into a seat.

There was no server that he could locate which suited him fine. Strangely enough, he didn’t feel like drinking this time around. Instead he pulled out his latest project and began fiddling with the wiring. His Primus-given helmlight was barely noticeable in the brighter bar. However, as the breems ticked by, Pillar failed to notice the dimming lights. That is until the surrounding mecha cleared their exhausts, startling the ex-miner from his reverie. Embarrassed, Pillar immediately snuffed his lights, even going so far as to dim the natural biolights crossing his chassis. Though it pained him to do so, Pillar extended his EM field, pushing apology to the forefront. Satisfied, nearby patrons shifted in their seats to focus ahead on the still-lit stage. 

Pillar immediately stiffened in his seat, wondering how he could have missed something like this. (He knew how, he once again got caught up in his work and the world around ceased to exist/matter.) Checking the bar’s available public feed, Pillar quickly learned that there were apparently regular performances from local artists hosted at the establishment. That didn’t sound like his preferred space. He liked lights-on, quiet places, somewhere he could work without being disturbed too much by outside presence.

With his biolights still dimmed, Pillar quietly shifted out of his seat and made his way towards the exit. He made sure to weave around tables seating regular-sized Cybertronians, to avoid further humiliation of having to crouch. By this point, a large - scratch that huge mech stepped up onto the stage. That in itself might have given Pillar some pause. It was the mech’s design that actually made him stop.

They were almost entirely green in color, with massive column-treads over either shoulder. The continuation of treads along their pauldron-armor and legs spoke to a tank or similar alt-mode. That stopped at the drill halves situated over, almost shielding, the arms. This mech had to have been a miner before the War. And yet they did not wear a Decepticon crest, to Pillar’s surprise and growing respect. But it was a strange symbol, black and jagged. It looked most similar to an odd organic skull.

The mech paused on stage, seemingly waiting for some unknown que. His visor grew shadowed even in the only remaining halo of light. Then he began to hum.

The sound, amplified by the combination of speakers and the mech's own electro-bass, shook through the stage and down into the flooring. Pillar might find the tables trembling if he were inclined to turn his optics from the stage. Not long into those first few powerful notes, the mech raised a pede and lightly struck the stage. It didn't take long for bar patrons to join the beat. Pillar, despite himself, took to knocking one servo against his plating.

Pillar remembered this song. They sang a similar version back in the mines of Luna 2. And that brought a whole slew of unwanted information recalls to his processor. He had buried most with a reason. But he still found himself whispering along to those lyrics in the bid of a forgotten self.

It’s dark as a dungeon,

And damp as the dew.

Where the danger is double

And pleasures are few

Where the rain never falls

And the sun never shines.

It’s dark as a dungeon

Way down in the mines.

The miners kept time in their swings. And the mechs like Pillar stayed out of their way. But he still found himself singing when one would eventually demand he help haul. A technician solely in function title - at the end of the cycle, he'd still been made to pick up the slack. And there was always, always more work to be done.

The mech's field pushed a somber, melancholy feeling into the crowd. It was slow to come and gently flowing. And Pillar recognized it was echoed by many of the other patrons. Most seemed to be lost, like the performer, like himself, in darker thoughts. Darker thoughts, and darker spaces still. Places lit only by crystalline lamps if you were lucky, and your own lights if not. The smell of a new vein to promise success, calling them deeper. The sensation of shavings grinding inside pumps and vents, never rid of the past.

But, like a tide of oil, the performer's tone changed. His field gained a softer, almost hopeful, feeling, and weight seemed to lift from his shoulders. He sang lyrics Pillar had never heard, even in all the different versions he'd run across.

Though I carry my scars

And feeling’s still new

And I pick through the rubble

And I’m most of’n blue

I’ll walk down the halls

And meet all new kinds

I’m ‘way from the dungeon

Way down in the mines.

Now the mech was looking up, away from the stage, and passing the ceiling. Something different graced his strong features; a small quirk of lip components in what Pillar could almost call a smile. The bar had grown quiet by then, all listening, watching. And someone started to clap. Then everyone was clapping, some even whooping their praise.

And their performer looked at his audience for the first time that cycle. The small smile was bigger, more sincere, and confident. He returned to his performance with renewed vigor, earlier mood appearing forgotten, and the cheering crowd grew softer.

Pillar stayed for the mech's entire performance. And though not all of the songs appealed to him, he still found himself enjoying the atmosphere they created. For the first time in a long time, he felt relaxed.

Drillburst of Velux (according to the information feed) played and sang for them, and for himself. As the set continued, his confidence grew. He still looked haunted, to Pillar's optics, but this was a break afforded by indulging in post-war freedoms. A miner performing on stage - far, far away from the deadly tunnels; a miracle from function.

Pillar returned to his shared apartment at the end of the cycle. It was around the time for another appointment with the newly founded "Reparation and Renewal" agency. Iona didn't say much, aside from a snarky comment on "behaving the better 'bot," which Pillar dutifully chuffed at. He was smiling part way through - something Ace seemed astounded by and loudly pointed out.

“I want to show you guys something.”

[unknownjpegs]

little value

“Halt!”

Stepper doesn’t listen to the command, since it’s not from him, so the lumbering beast continues on stepping. Happy watches lazily, arms tucked into his sleeves, folded over his chest. His tortoise takes another lazy step and the Kings Guards on the road start to seem panicky, waving their hands, shouting the command another time.

“Stepper,” Happy calls, whistling. The Great Tortoise pauses then, one massive leg half lifted. He sets it down and swings his massive head toward him, blinking big doe eyes. “S’nough now, yeah? We’ll rest a bit.” He gets another few blinks before the tortoise opens its mouth in a giant yawn and then the beasts stomach hits the ground hard enough to make the two guards stumble a bit.

“You have papers for this beast? For your wares?” One of the guards snaps, coming forward. He’s taller than the other, lanky with floppy brown hair that pokes out underneath his little royal helm. Guard Two stands at a more respectable distance, has shrewd and beady red eyes. Neither of them pay Stepper any mind now that he’s flat to the ground.

“Are you askin’ if I’m a legitimate merchant, or a man with a giant tortoise carrying goods, roaming around for fun?” Happy takes one arm from his sleeve and uses his little finger to scratch inside his ear. Stepper gives another big mouthed yawn for effect, resting its head on the ground lazily.

“Being short with me, merchant?” The first guard snarls, hand on his hilt.

“Least m’bein’ recognized as a merchant,” Happy mutters, waving a hand in mute compliance to have his wares looked at. But neither guard actually move to do so. Instead they come closer, angling looks at each other. Suspicious and furtive, and both rest their hands on their hilts then. Happy looks between them, bored and tired.

“Looking for this man,” the short guard says, yanking out a piece of parchment. He holds it up for Happy to lazily inspect, head lolled to the side and angled down, because he’s much taller.

It’s Tino, of course. An artists rendering, with charcoal perhaps. It has his smooth cheeks, dark hair, the handsome cut of his jaw. Only whoever had done the drawing had also given him a terrible sneer. A cruel curl to his lip that wrinkled his nose. His eyes were glinting with malice, brows drawn in. He looked cartoonish and villainous and nothing like the laughing, good natured man Happy knew. If someone knew Tino, perhaps they’d recognize this as him. But a stranger, who merely glanced between this paper and the smiling, baby faced man they were looking for, might possibly think there was just an unfortunate resemblance.

“Never seen ‘im,” Happy replies.

The guards stare at him, their eyes narrowed. Beads of sweat roll down their faces, because they’re in light armor. He stares back, nonplussed and unimpressed.

“Suppose you’ll be paying the Kings tax ‘fore we let you by,” the shorter guard says then. He sniffs hard and spits snot onto the ground at Happy’s feet. The wind rustles through the trees a bit. He feels rain incoming and truthfully, he’d hoped to be at Tino’s by now. Because the trail is just shortly to their left, leads right into a clearing where the runaway’s built his little home for him and his stolen babe. And if it weren’t for that trail being so close, so happenstance nearby, Happy might have been content to just let them rob him.

Instead, he gives a shake of his head and sighs.

“Already paid my taxes this year.”

The guards unsheathe their swords with a clanging metallic sound. One points the tip to him while the other starts toward his tortoise. Stepper blinks up at the man as he levels the sword with his long leathery neck.

“Not above killing a man’s beast to set him straight,” the tall, sweaty guard says in a snide and malicious voice.

“Know what he is?” Happy asks in reply, gesturing toward his companion. The tortoise blinks at him this time. His great bulk shifts slightly, excited for the attention. Happy can remember the exact day when he got Stepper. Bought from a traveling merchant just like himself. Small enough to fit into his palm.

“A fucking turtle, what else he be?” The short guard prods his sword closer, point neck level with Happy now. He stares down the long glossy metal. It looks mostly unused. Happy understands. Pricks like the Royal Guards that wander the Kings Road, to keep peace, don’t usually have care to swing a sword. They can bully what they want out of people—and Happy is usually too lazy to argue, cuts his own coin purse and tosses it to them most of the time, without a backward look.

But the trail is so close.

“Stepper is a Great Tortoise. Not to be confused with the little tortoise. The ones you might be used to, yeah? The difference between Stepper and the small ones is not that he’s much bigger.” Happy sighs out, as if this is all some great inconvenience and not that he has a sword tip up to him and his animal companion. He lifts up a hand to wave at the tortoise, who raises his giant head in reply. The tall guard startles and takes a stumbling step back. “It’s that he can kill you.”

Steppers head shoots out fast, a blurring quickness. His great maw opens and then snaps shut around the tall guards head. There’s a distinctly wet crunching sound and then the body falls back to the ground with a loud thumping sound. His head does not follow.

Guard Two makes a brave attempt with his sword, screaming as it arcs through the air to catch Stepper on the neck. The thin metal snaps in two as it strikes the tortoise’s skin, the point of it flying and sticking into the soft dirt behind Happy, who’d stepped to the side as he saw it coming. The half broken sword makes a distinct twanging sound and then the guard is knocked to the ground by Stepper’s giant head.

“No! No!” The guard thrashes, screaming, scrambles—not enough. The Great Tortoise puts a great foot to the mans chest, and in one smooth and effortless motion, steps down. There’s the crunching sound of body breaking as well as the creak and groan of metal giving underneath the giant tortoise’s foot. Happy winces a bit as the blood soaks into the dirt road, dark and thick.

“Well,” Happy folds his arms back into his sleeves and looks to his companion. Stepper yawns once more, blood dripping from his pointed beak like mouth. “Suppose we’re in it now, Steps. No going back once you start killin’ the royalty.” Stepper slowly sinks back to the ground, belly flat, rumbling the Earth once more. Happy sighs, knowing he isn’t going to get any help moving the bodies to the forest.

—

The baby coos at Happy, his little fists waving in the air from the chair Tino’s fashioned for him. Something to keep him locked in, while he’s being fed. In the castle, Benji would have been spoiled rotten—held by a maid while another spoon fed him delicately. Now, he sits there with a plate of mixed foods that he smacks at happily, puts into his mouth messily as he smiles toothlessly up at Happy.

A bowl of soup and rice is handed to him then, by the young father. Happy takes it and immediately puts it to the side and then levels a look at Tino.

“Came here to talk to you,” he says in a mild voice. Not that the food didn’t smell amazing. The entire home did; alive with the cooking. The spices and the fire, and the closed in little space. The baby making excited sounds as Tino steps closer to wipe at the corners of his mouth.

“Not just to visit? Diondre, you know you can sit down. Enjoy a meal.”

“I know a witch,” he says instead, leaning against the table by the window. His eyes cut out to look at Stepper, who looks morose to not be involved. “With a babe just his age. Maybe a year younger or older, can’t really remember. She’s not exactly a nice witch, if you understand me.” He feels a chill sort of run up and down his spine, hairs lifting along his arms, like she can hear him. Wouldn’t doubt it if she could. He’d say it to her face, though, so the chill disappears as quickly as it had come on.

Tino stills, his shoulders tightening. Happy’s head tilts to the side, assessing as the younger man moves around the baby. Benji seems to sense the tension, his giant brown eyes going wide and watery. He looks fit to suddenly scream until Tino brushes a soothing hand over his curly hair. The baby has an absolute mop of it, black waves that stick up until Tino is brushing them down.

“Guards were on the road again.”

“Guards are always on the Kingsroad. It’s the Kingsroad.”

“And this,” Happy says, with a gesturing hand toward the placated baby. His little fist is wrapped tightly around one of Tino’s fingers, teething at the tip of it happily. He blinks at Happy, his eye lashes already thick and long. He looks nothing like his father. Not yet anyway. “Is the King’s son.”

The two men make eye contact then. Tino’s capable of a vastly darker look than one might assume him capable of. Nothing like the snide villains sneer on the parchment Happy had been shown. It’s not cruel, but it’s a cobra’s strike of warning. Benji makes happy, bubbling sounds. Happy sighs, takes the bowl from where he’d put it, assumes the soup is finally cooled down enough to eat. He won’t make this argument a third time; Tino will keep the baby, and Happy will keep selling along the Kingsroad to ensure that baby isn’t found.

Stepper breaks the tension by shoving his giant head through the window. Benji shrieks, but not in terror. He waves his hands in the air as the tortoise’s head comes closer. He yells in his babies babble and Stepper’s giant mouth opens, yawning large and wide.

The maw snaps shut on a bundle of herbs just above the mantle. Stepper chews contently, big eyes blinking as Benji continues his cherubic giggling.

Tino swings toward Happy with a delighted smile.

“You’ll be paying for the herbs then?”

Happy’s head rolls back on his neck, sighing out as he fishes for his coin purse.

—

Outside, Happy walks alongside the tortoise. The baby sleeps contently in the basket that Stepper carries inside his mouth. Tino watches from the door of the house, puffing away at the pipe. The smoke carries up into the air, disappears among the pink and purple clouds as the day slowly ends.

“I knew your father,” Happy says to the sleeping baby. Benji is swaddled tightly. He’d been fussing and crying, arguing against his sleep when Happy had scooped him up and placed him into the basket. It’ll help. Babies like the rocking motion, he’d explained as Stepper had taken up the handle without question. They lumber along now. Benji sleeps soundly, little face perfect.

“Well,” Happy continues, hands in his sleeves again. “Your real father, not that one. Know him too, for a bit now.” The edge of the forest greets them, so they make a turn to continue back toward the house. Tino has not moved, watches dutifully. “Not a big fan of the King, Benji.”

Stepper stops suddenly and sinks down onto his stomach lazily. Happy leans over to inspect the baby once more. Nothing but his face pokes out from the layers of blankets that keep him safe and warm. Happy crouches to look closer. He tries to find a shred of The King inside this face, but comes up empty. Not that he looks much like Tino either. Happy suspects, he’ll grow into a face that is uniquely his own.

“They’re going to come for you one day,” he murmurs. Stepper yawns out, puts his head beside the basket. Blinks his eyes closed. Happy sighs, looks up to the slowly darkening sky. Then he fishes within his red robe, pulls out the long necklace he’d stolen before he left. “This was your mothers. She was—well. The light in the halls of the castle, I’d say.” It’s not something a queen would wear, it’s simple, and of little value. It’s gold chain is old and the ornate gem at the end might not even be real.

Happy tucks it into the basket anyway.

[thesinglesjukebox]

KESHA - "EAT THE ACID"

Harlan recommends an artist about whom we've always had lots to say...

[6.86]

Leah Isobel: The other night, I was walking home from work and listening to the Song Exploder episode about this song. For 20 minutes, neither Kesha nor any of her collaborators -- nor Hrishikesh Hirway, the podcast's host -- ever mentioned Luke. Instead, they talked about advice that Kesha received from her mom, Pebe, not to take acid; they talked about a dream or vision or panic attack that Kesha had had one night, in which she felt that she had come into contact with the immortal being at the heart of the universe. She described this as a deeply comforting and beautiful experience, but the song is paranoid and itchy, its synth tones dissonant and harsh. I found this episode affecting in ways I can't quite articulate. I see a lot of myself in Kesha's story, and the hardest part about the years since The Stuff That Happened To Me is how I find it seeping into my brain and my life and my perspective basically all the time. I don't even really think about it that much anymore; I have mostly forgiven him, or at least the version of him that still lives in my heart. And yet, a few days ago, I had a fight with my partner in the way that we fight, which isn't combative but sad and puzzled and hurt, and they asked me if I really allowed myself to be angry. I know that I don't, and I knew it then, but hearing it asked so openly did make me think about The Stuff That Happened all over again. I've been having dreams about it. It never really goes away. I remember feeling, after it was over, as if I had seen through something, like the curtain blocking reality as it is had pulled back slightly. Some old friends, whom I have since stopped talking to, described DMT as having similar effects. Trauma affects brain function; in some ways, it's a drug that stays in the system forever. And yet I still petulantly cling onto the vision of who I once was, who I could have been. I go to work, and I feed myself, and I clean my room, and I write. I kiss my partner. I go to choir rehearsal. I play Ghost Trick on my Switch. And in all of it, that shift -- that change -- lurks. Maybe I spoke with God, back then, and didn't know it. Kesha sings "hate has no place in the divine" without passion, reciting a mantra without really believing it or hearing it. Maybe this is how God speaks: with indifference. [8]

Harlan Talib Ockey: "Eat the Acid" doesn't address Kesha's struggle for justice as explicitly as "Fine Line," but it's a powerfully unsettling meditation on the sheer depths of the wilderness in the universe. Kesha has sounded this raw before ("Praying" being an obvious example), but here she does so with incredible understatement, bringing unearthly intensity to dark, minimalist production. (From Rick Rubin!) It's like nothing she's ever done before. [10]

Alfred Soto: It took fifteen years of craft and a lifetime of torment to produce "Eat the Acid," the natural sequel to "Tik Tok." Eloquent as gesture and devastating as product, it maintains its austerity because even at its most electro-shivery the Kesha of 2010 shivers in its core. [7]

Taylor Alatorre: Credit to Kesha for managing to get "art pop" as a genre tag on Wikipedia before Gaga did. Unfortunately, most of "Eat the Acid" is diminished by what made that achievement possible: a Rick Rubin-helmed effort to reverse-engineer a Strange New Respect by brandishing the familiar totems of artistic maturity. No one's asking Kesha to go back to the Animal/Cannibal days (though maybe one more Gottwald-less entry in the series wouldn't hurt), but would these circular ruminations about the dangers and/or benefits of hallucinogens have suffered if they were set to a higher BPM? Only in the final minute is the minimal-ish mood-setting sharpened into something like a point, with the word "divine" serving as a sleeper cell activation code for rhythm and propulsion and full-bodied sonic texture. Wish it didn't take that long to get there, though. [6]

Micha Cavaseno: I said elsewhere, but Gag Order feels less like a victory of emancipation than a morose departure, a heartbreaking turn for one of the most charming songwriters of the '00s. "Eat the Acid" demonstrates this perfectly in how hollow the vocals, organ, and guitar loops just languidly hang there disjointed. Sebert's hollow mourn is devoid of glamour in the way someone fresh from jail has yet to learn how to have someone to be again, flatter than a stilled pulse. There's no sense of unity or oneness in this supposed revelation; instead it gestures at the hint of a phantom limb as proof of survival. I don't need the old "her" to come back and mask the pain, but I'd like to know that the spark isn't hidden away forever. [3]

David Moore: "Eat the Acid" is track two on Kesha's Gag Order, her collaboration with Rick Rubin that serves as the exit from her straitjacket contract with Kemosabe Records. When I heard this, it made me wonder whether it was her "Paranoid Android," and thus Gag Order was her OK Computer. Well, it was, and it is, for me, anyway. When I was 16, hearing OK Computer in its entirety for the first time unspooled reams of totally unhinged poetry from me that I threw in the garbage a couple years later. With distance, I see how good music and bad poetry sparked a lifetime of chasing down the sublime in music with words, and I have some fondness for the kid who bought Radiohead's miserablist codswallop and was inspired to write the way it made him feel. It becomes clear as you get older that some parts of you are just you, always were and always will be, some parts are just habits and inheritances you might be able to nudge or massage or exorcise out of you, and you really have to muck around in there to sort out which is which. You start to understand that the totality of yourself includes your past and its people, even the ones you've discarded or who've discarded you, even and maybe especially the ghosts, and it also includes a whole bunch of other stuff you thought you'd forgotten but almost certainly didn't. And if you have kids -- god, the kids! Mercenary little memory-dredgers. Was I like that? Are they really like that? Or am I just thinking about me again, unable to see them? (Projection is the second-worst sin of decent parents, after possession.) At pushing-forty I've started to make acceptance with all of those accumulated parts of myself, and to preemptively make some amends for the sins of my present. That's what Gag Order is, an album that articulates ugly and beautiful and inconveniently truthful moments in one's life, the jagged edges and things that can't be unseen, with unflattering documentary clarity but also a premonition of the eventual grace from having healed from it someday. Life keeps on fucking you up, and you keep figuring out how to say thanks, even if you need to indulge in a little woo-woo to get you through now and then (preferably stopping short of falling for outright charlatans like crystal people or Radiohead). From the liner notes: "THANK YOU to the universe for compiling the life force of atoms and energy to make this cosmic dimensional existence available for me to experience." And I can't help but say yes to this, just like I said yes to misanthropic robot rock back in the day, the "no" that I treated as a yes. I was convinced it was telling me something important about the universe and my place in it, and in some sense, it was. But now I only seek the "yes" that is actually a yes. And I ask, hopefully not in an oblivious butterfly meme sort of way: is this wisdom? [10]

Aaron Bergstrom: Fragmented shadow reality. Fear of a higher plane. Partial realization. Hostility. Overwhelming visions. Hidden truths revealed. Understanding. It's Kesha's Allegory of the Cave. [8]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Mimics a real comedown from a high: "Eat the Acid" aims for apotheosis about the divine and universe, but instead of transcendent, the result is dully profound and profoundly dull. [4]

Michelle Myers: Apparently, Kesha and I both have "Dark Minimal Gothic Synthwave Compilation 2 Hours" in our YouTube recommendations. [7]

Dorian Sinclair: "Eat the Acid" is a stylistic departure for Kesha, but if you -- like me -- still think twice about her weird decade-old Bob Dylan cover, you knew she's always had an interest in this kind of minimalist, droney accompaniment and deliberately-undersung vocal line. I don't think that cover entirely works, but "Acid" absolutely does, pairing the buzz and mumble with a spectral backing choir, delicately plucked guitar, and ominous, evocative lyrics. The additions give it a structure and direction that her take on "Don't Think Twice" lacked, and the decision to build the tension to an almost oppressive degree before abruptly cutting the cord feels like the only right choice for how to end the song. It's an audacious choice for a lead single, but a great one. [9]

Oliver Maier: Undeniably a bold move from Kesha -- but "from Kesha" feels like an important qualification. I don't mean that in a demeaning way, just that it's hard to imagine taking an interest without the name tag. I wouldn't go back to this if I heard it from a relative nobody on Bandcamp. Shame to snuff out that intriguing build-up at the end, too. [5]

Nortey Dowuona: Rick Rubin, Stuart Crichton and Jason Leder are listed as producers, but the drum programming, bass and keyboards on this song are played by Tom Kahre. Did you know that he helped TiRon and Ayomari make their album The Great New Wonderful, one of the best forgotten albums of the 2010s? That he's been Big Sean's engineer since at least 2016? That he engineered a Babyface Ray song in those duties? That he got Mya nominated for Best R&B album in 2016? That with Erica Campbell he won the 2015 Grammy for Best Gospel Album? That he got Charlie Wilson a 2014 Grammy nomination for Best Gospel Song? If you like this song you should. [7]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: Like a bedroom pop version of Nico's Desertshore, "Eat the Acid" plods along with a knowing sense of importance and mysticism. It mistakes negative space and minimalism for grandiosity, reducing Kesha's vocals to textured detritus. [3]

Jonathan Bogart: In October, I visited my family in Texas. It was only supposed to be for a few days before my younger sister and I flew to Guatemala for a shared vacation slash pilgrimage to the land of her birth slash memorial for our brother, who had died there in 2022. But massive protests against government corruption erupted a week before our travel plans, crippling Guatemalan infrastructure and indefinitely postponing our trip. So I spent my accrued vacation weeks in Houston instead, and splurged on a quite different set of expenses. One of those included a road trip to see Kesha at Austin City Limits with my sister and brother, resurrecting an old shared interest and bonding ritual. We played her most recent albums on the way there to familiarize ourselves with her current state of play. Like most of America, they had stopped paying close attention to Kesha once she dropped the $, and even I had only taken in the recent singles. Thirteen years on from the culture shock that was "Tik Tok," which fundamentally rewrote the rules of pop music in my head -- I had been a classicist who overvalued Sixties models of rock and soul -- Kesha has grown into being less of the wild child she was initially marketed as and more of an institutional provocateuse. Like her role models, Mick Jagger and Iggy Pop, she combines a swaggering attitude, a limited but effectively deployed vocal instrument, and a generic set of rebellious postures that seem frozen in time. The sounds of current pop have moved far away from the gleefully scuzzy vulgarity that made her famous, so she's free to chase her own rather basic aesthetic muse rather than the prevailing winds of pop fashion. In Austin, the audience on the floor appeared to be primarily made up of gay white men in their thirties and late twenties, who came alive the most at the old reliable bangers from Animal and Cannibal, but for whom the emotional highlight was undoubtedly when Kesha got choked up introducing "Rainbow." "I'm fucking free!" she hollered when she found her voice again, to a responsive roar, and that conflation of a lawsuit settlement (and the gendered violence that originated it) with the queer identities of the fans drinking up her emotional catharsis is perhaps the most quintessential aspect of Kesha's post-Dr. Luke career. "Eat the Acid" was the first song in the second act of the three-act show, coming after four dancefloor bangers in a row followed by a routine by her dancers to Macklemore's "Good Old Days" while she changed costumes. It was performed so deep back on the stage that she was invisible to my section of the balcony, and its near-tempolessness meant that it was the only time in the show that her audience seemed even a little bit bored. The ancient knock against psychedelic music has always been that a meaningful trip is uncommunicable to anyone else. The lysergic quality of "Eat the Acid" is limited to Imogen Heap-style vocal processing, so there's not even a lot of texture to get lost in; while the lyrics, in post-2015 Kesha's special blend of self-mythologizing, hippy (and occasionally -dippy) spiritualism, and It Gets Better sloganeering, allude to an experience of transcendence that remains permanently out of focus. All the better for listeners to apply their own history and desires onto, of course; as much as critics like me love specificity in lyrics, too much of it is alienating to the broader audience for whom pop is about large, communal emotions, not granular interior ones. Unfortunately, "Eat the Acid" falls between both stools. I bet it means a lot to Kesha, but like recounting a dream, the meaning fades in the telling. It's time to wake up. [4]

Ian Mathers: Not all knowledge is helpful. Not all trips are good. But maybe nobody else gets to decide or interpret which ones are which for you. [8]

Anna Katrina Lockwood: There's a pervasive aura of dread, and terrible consequence, in semi-contrast to approximately half of the lyrics. Giving it up to the divine isn't really my thing--I'm a bit too rage-filled for that--and my personal relationship with psychedelics is less cognitive exploration, more barricading myself in a club restroom until things stop moving wrong. However, I've never had a massive public trauma and personal excoriation in the manner Kesha has, so if this song helps her to live the life she wants, so be it. [6]

Will Adams: Yes, the subtext runs deep (don't be changed like what changed you?) -- it always does. What is more striking to me is how "Eat the Acid" sounds. The searing organ tones; Kesha's vocal, numbed and distorted and frayed; the clipped synth arppegio; guitars filtered to sound like ghosts; elegiac choirs; it's all arresting. I'm reminded of the William Orbit remix of Sarah McLachlan's "Black" -- both move their respective elements in and out of view, like scenes of a dream, all the while maintaining an unsettling energy. It's a crystal ball of a song, showing a dark future that might be yours, whether you choose it or not. [7]

Katherine St Asaph: "Right after it lobbed off its own knees," Kristin Hersh wrote about Crooked single "Moan," "[the song] told me I should drop my weapons. The ether's smart about weapons. I'm not, particularly." The song she describes is one of hope, telling you that "we're messes sometimes and messes are sometimes OK." But the song she recorded is restorative only like oblivion is. What "Moan" tells you is that "in the deep cold, you won't be brave; in the deep cold, you can't be safe," over murder-ballad chords, barren fuzz, and an unchanging guitar solo with the melodic contour of trying to pull yourself out of your grave and giving up fast. It's among the bleakest songs I've ever heard (though not the bleakest by her), and it reminds me a lot of "Eat the Acid." The songs share a dirge pace that jolts to anxious action in the final seconds, and a moldy-timbred four-chord buzz that sounds more like an empty machinery room than a communal musical space. Kesha's voice is starting to sound a little like Kristin's, too. Much was made of her upbringing by country songwriter Pebe Sebert, but Kesha's roots increasingly seem to lie in folk instead -- specifically, the prickly, sometimes stark, sometimes psychedelic and always harrowing subgenre that includes Hersh, the late Sinéad O'Connor, and maybe Beth Orton ("Eat the Acid" also sounds like the equally bleak "Pieces of Sky.") It says a lot about Kesha as a musician that she's drawn to this kind of folk, rather than the broadly palatable sort favored by so many of her peers who worship their Joni and their Crow, and who could probably sing about brushing their teeth with a bottle of Jack and have it seen as a quippy meta-enabling lark rather than a sign of the party-house decay of civilization. But the path that led Kesha there was pain, and once you've taken that path, that pain can re-emerge anywhere. "Eating the acid," going strictly by the words, is meant to be daring and restorative, in an Erowid-vault, Erehwon-enjoyer sort of way. A few grains of that do remain; Kesha's backing vocals punch up "eat the acid" like an electro hook she might record in some other unrecoverable universe. But Kesha chooses one line as her refrain, and truncates it until it means the opposite: "you don't wanna be changed like it changed me." On the verses, her voice sounds small; on the refrain, she sounds sure. What do you do when people consider you a completed cautionary tale? When what's left for you in life is to find "acceptance" of things that should never have been offered, much less accepted? "Eat the Acid" offers an answer in its final act to everybody but one. "Hate has no place in the divine," Kesha sings, and the divine assumes its understood musical form: celestial choirs, happier keys, soprano harmonies, air-conditioned space above the arrangement, Meanwhile, the song itself is somewhere else, weaponless on its knees. [9]

Brad Shoup: I don't know that "You don't wanna be changed like it changed me" gains much from this much repetition; by the second or third time I was already thinking about fame. (It does make me wonder if Pebe Sebert's ever written a song about acid. In my mind she has, and it has this vibe.) That fluttering sequencer gets Kesha to the cosmos, tab-free; its imperiousness emphasizes how much she's in control. A similar vastness ducks in and out of the comparatively table-flipping "Fine Line": I guess I'll have to hear the LP to find out if it touches or recedes from the face of God. [7]

Rose Stuart: Kesha's post-lawsuit era has centered on moving on from trauma, but "Eat the Acid" is raw like an open wound. There are no pop hooks or bright choruses. Instead, accompanied by the refrain of "you don't wanna be changed like it changed me", Kesha creates an unsettling meditation that feels paralytic and overwhelming. The sparse electronic instrumentation creates a drone in your mind, before bursting into lights at the end. It's a song that forces you to stop and listen to it, and more importantly to feel it, every note buzzing inside your head. [8]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: The drones and the distortion and the hymn-like refrain run up helplessly against Kesha's deep and well-learned skill with a hook -- even as the song threatens to fall into itself, into ego death and self abnegation, she still sounds as captivating as she has since 2010. She's not who she was then, but she's not entirely separate, either; the process of freeing one's self from trauma and specifically the trauma of being made into a symbol or legal instrument will inherently be one of recapitulation and self-paradox. This is a hard song in all regards, but it feels worth it. I hope it is. [8]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

[whitedragoncoranth]

The Great Reading...

It was Rocket Strange who greeted Rocket the Grey at the Doors.

"You're late!" the orange-robed, cyan-cloaked son of the Sorcerer Supreme snarked.

Clad in his grey hat and robes, Rocket the Grey took a puff from his pipe then cheekily replied, "A Wizard is never late, Mr. Strange. He arrives precisely when he means to!"

For a moment, the two looked at each other--and then, a little teary-eyed, they embraced! "Err... am I late? They haven't started the Reading, yet, have they?" the Grey Raccoon asked, worriedly.

"Oh, nah," Rocket Strange answered, nuzzling the apprentice of Mithrandir, "but you're the last to come here. So many made it tonight, come on!"

With that, the two opened the Doors and stepped into a titanic Colosseum that was full of... Rockets! Thousands upon thousands of Rockets from all walks of life, albeit they were mostly kind and good; those who were too cruel or were slavering beasts from the darkest of worlds weren't allowed here.

Thousands of Rockets, many accompanied by a Lylla or their Humies, but also many without. Jedi Rockets; Wizard Rockets; a Maori Chief Rocket and his Uplifted Racccoon Tribe; Purely organic or machine Rockets and all in between; a Rocket and Lylla who were ghosts united, a Rocket and Lylla whom were living stars; Time Lord Rocket and Time Lady Lylla; Rocket Knight and with him Kitt, the TransAm in a Berth at his side; Honourable Pirate Lord Rocket, and with him Pirate Queen Lylla; Egyptian Pharoah Amun-Ro-Khet I, his Queen Lylla, and his Terran Attendants; Rocket Raccoon but with him a Peter Quill who was also a raccoon; Native American Shaman Rocket the Medicine Raccoon with his Uplifted Raccoon Village... and on, and on, and on...

High above, upon a throne of metal - clad in purple armour and helm to contain the mighty Power Cosmic - Great Procyon ROCKETUS the Life-Bringer, the Creator of Worlds, banged his Staff upon the stone floor. "CALLING FOR SILENCE!' he boomed. "SILENCE, PLEASE!" When the noise of the great Colosseum hushed, Great Procyon Rocketus continued, softer, "Tonight's Reading is about to Commence, and it concerns one Terran Human we all know by the pseudonym... Raccoon Falls Harder..."

Almost immediately, utterly joyous cheering was heard as the Rocket Collective clapped, stomped their feet, whooped and howled and raccoon-called with sheer joy! The Great Raccoon smiled, let it all continue for a moment--but then, he cracked his Staff upon the ground again, "Silence, silence please!" he commanded, and all complied. "This beloved Terran has written a new work." Reaching for a beautiful, illuminated manuscript scroll, the Great Procyon unrolled it. "It is titled simply, 'Machinery'. Let the Reading now Commence!"

The Colosseum quieted, and - drawing gently upon the Power Cosmic - Great Procyon Rocketus used it to create the eerie, disquieting sound of a mechanical heart, Ka-chunk-hnk. Ka-chunk-hnk. With this as ambience, he started to read aloud from the scroll, his audience listening, enraptured,

"'Rocket scrubs his knuckles against the fur and flesh that have grown over his metal sternum. His ribs strain like creaky bellows, lungs splitting and bruising against the bones...'"

Two extraordinary, captured rare images of Great Procyon Rocketus before his power accidentally burned out the camera. Images taken before he joined the Multiversal Gathering of Rockets. (All credit to original artist, you're amazing!)

[mischief-lies-and-stories]

I'm Obsessed with the Immortal Thor 7 cover art

This cover is so detailed and just gorgeous. The covers for this series have really all been full of details, but I want to talk about this one because of all of its connections to the myths (and also previous issues).

Spoilers for The Immortal Thor.

Let's start where I always like to start, with Loki. He is buried under food, which (obviously, after reading) references his first trial of trying to eat faster than fire, called Logi both in the comic and the myth. I just love how so many characters in this myth are named versions of Loki's name (Logi, Utgard-Loki; Lukki was originally Hugi in the myth, as Loki says later), and I had hoped we would get an explanation in the mythology of why that is, but we never really do. (If anyone has seen an explanation, please let me know; I'm intrigued to hear about both contemporary analytical explanations or if an older source has an answer.)

Thor wrestling this weird, green cat. I love all of this. His tail is actually the head of a snake, complete with cute little hissy tongue. His back and tail have orange and black tiger-like stripes, but the pattern changes on his hind leg to a scaly look. The more you look at his cat face, the more you see Jormungandr's true face beneath! I love this. I love Jormungandr.

Okay, this isn't specific to the cover, but I just noticed Utgard-Loki's bone horns are shaped the same as Loki's helm. Also he's not on fire on the cover. Maybe that's to keep with the cool color scheme, but I think he looks way more metal when he's aflame.

Which brings us to these dice Utgard-Loki is rolling. They are certainly dice, but clearly only one side is marked. Why did Alex Ross (the cover artist) decide to only illustrate one side of each die? Artistically, I think probably to draw attention to these sides of the dice; if all visible sides were marked, there would be too many details with no obvious side to draw the eye. Thematically, Utgard-Loki has rigged all of these trials; the dice are meant to fall only on these sides. And each marked side has a different set of 3 runes, one of which we've seen already in this series: Raidho, which corresponds to the letter R. Interestingly, also on this same die is Thurisaz, which corresponds to Th (thank you, very difficult poetic theme choice for issue 3). So what I'm hearing you say is, hey, so is that middle rune Othala (because of course, you read that post)? Nope! However, it does represent a different sound for O (I think the long o ('oh'), because the name for the letter is Óss or "god" aka Odin, at least according to Wikipedia), so perhaps it still spells 'Thor.' Which would be BRILLIANT, because guess what the other die spells?! Lögr--kaun--��ss, or LKI, LOKI. And thank god (heh) for that, because I was ready to go full analysis on the symbolism for what these runes represent, but we can safely go with Occam's Razor on this one. (Of course, I did do this with the issue 3 poem, so it's certainly something you can do, I just doubt that was the intended vision when Ross created the puzzle.) (And I am a little pissed I used Othala instead of óss/ansuz, because I could've done some great things with the symbolism. All well.)

[thepermanentrainpress]

UNDER THE RADAR: APRIL 2023

April's Under The Radar brings new releases from Porteau, The Evan Williams Project, Grace Chiang, Hotel of the Laughing Tree, Down the Lees and Odum Abekah.

1) Porteau - “Split Screen Eyes”

Sometimes, it takes a hurtful dynamic to uncover quiet strength.

“Split Screen Eyes” is helmed by inner monologue—an emotional push and pull from “caring for someone with mental illness and concurrent substance use.” Victoria Williams and Craig Stevenson acknowledge the codependence and create distance with some whimsical, less orthodox language. The single combines Williams’ winsome vocals, relaxed guitars, synths, harmonies, and a hint of harmonica. “Aberration is uncomfortable but it’s what I need,” Williams sings, setting boundaries and deepening the sentiment simultaneously. Porteau’s sophomore album What I Need is out June 2, 2023.

Written by: Natalie Hoy

2) Hotel of the Laughing Tree - “Faraway Friends”

“Faraway Friends” is a fun and throbbing melody despite isolating emotions. It was lyrically inspired by the majority of their band members moving away from New York, and is sung from the perspective of vocalist AJ Estrada, who remained in their home state. “No need to let go, please keep me in your world / Back in your old back seat / Time never slows when I want to leave the scene...” Time can be unforgiving when you’re going through a period of change and uncertainty. The result is woozy, beautiful, bracing—vocals, drum machines, keys and guitars trying to shake the rearview mirror.

Hotel is comprised of Estrada, Brandon Peterson and Jonathon Streker. “Faraway Friends” is the title track off their fifth full-length album, out now.

Faraway Friends by Hotel of the Laughing Tree

Written by: Natalie Hoy

3) Grace Chiang (featuring Rebecca Sichon & Amanda Na) - “Played”

A modern day love triangle that leans on the shared experiences of women is at the core of “Played.” Encapsulating the manipulation and betrayal of a lost lover, the song’s use of two female vocalists plays on the misplaced anger and fraught emotion. It’s a sublime debut single from producer/songwriter Chiang, creating notes and tones that are sultry, distracted and resentful. The harmonies and vocal runs between Sichon and Na are sweet to the ear – a division and predicament that reaches an understanding towards each other. In the pop/R&B realm with a soulful lining, soft piano is richly elevated by punchy hip hop beats.  

I couldn’t be more thrilled to hear that Chiang is collaborating with other female artists and creatives from underrepresented communities, in a project set for release later this year. “Played” celebrates the strength of emerging women in music and encourages us to let go of those who don’t show us the same loyalty and respect.

Written by: Chloe Hoy

4) The Evan Williams Project - “Contact”

“I know that prison in the palace of a demagogue / Is ever better than the curse of being free.” 

Scott McGowan’s struggle with his spiritual belief is heard in “Contact,” omnipresent thoughts that err on regret and a looming end. They bring a new definition to raw—creating music while going through an honest bout of questioning one’s faith and mental health. It is less of the heavy, hard rock found in past releases, instead having a progressive, ambient feel built by vocal layering, clean guitar leads, and reverb. McGowan and his sister Launey have a perpetual quality to their voices that linger in the weight of Christianity and desperation. They have a mysterious, almost vigilant sound rooted in questioning reception and our existence; a very compelling listen and a story far from its conclusion.  

The Evan Williams Project is fronted by McGowan, with Allayne (Launey) McGowan (drums), Isaac Robinson (keys) and Jaxon Russell (guitar). Their new album Willpower is out now.

WILLPOWER by The Evan Williams Project

Written by: Chloe Hoy

5) Down the Lees - “Dead and Over”

Oh so bleak and penetrating as they veer into frustrating territory in “Dead and Over,” a release of negative emotions felt over the course of the past few years. Laura Lee Schultz fronts the post-rock/shoegaze act, carrying a piece of her soul and a jaded energy to elevate the single. Her voice is tired and anxious, angry and embattled in a losing fight. I love the mystifying sound, it’s both biting and tormenting as instruments crash in and out. In addition to the general overcast of the pandemic, they address artist mental health struggles and ageism in the challenges faced by older female musicians (“No one gives a f*ck about aging women”). 

For any creatives who have faced doubts about ability, recognition, assumed retirement or expiration, the band carves out the best of what is left—which is plenty of passion and perspective. Something to remember. Down the Lees is Schultz, Chris Carlson (bass) and Andy Ashley (drums).

Dead and Over by Down the Lees

Written by: Chloe Hoy

6) Odum Abekah - “GOOD FOR YA”

Odum Abekah’s “GOOD FOR YA” started with a sinuous beat, and blossomed into a dancefloor special with its lush layers and persuasive tone.

Originally from Fredericton, NB and now based in Calgary, Abekah is a graduate of both Humber College and Mount Allison University music programs. His sound is uplifting and put-together—retrowave mixed with modern rock guitars and sturdy drums. Abekah’s slick vocals play the part of wooing a potential lover well (“But the world they capture's digitized black and white / You deserve some colour”). “GOOD FOR YA” is a song with no regrets; leaving everything on the line for a shot at something special.

Written by: Natalie Hoy

[satoshi-mochida]

Ratatan ‘Gameplay’ trailer, details, and screenshots

Gematsu Source

Ratata Arts has released the first gameplay trailer, information, and screenshots for newly announced rhythm strategy game Ratatan.

Helmed by Patapon series creator Hiroyuki Kotani, Ratatan will be developed in collaboration with TVT. Its staff includes main artist Nelnal, main sound designer Kemmei Adachi, and .hack series director Kenei Nakasha.

A Kickstarter campaign will launch on July 31 at 9:00 a.m. PT / 12:00 p.m. ET with an initial release goal on PC. Support for “modern consoles” is planned via a stretch goal, with Red Art Games signed on to distribute a physical edition of the game in the west.

Get the details below.

What is Ratatan?

Ratatan‘s gameplay incorporates a unique combination of rhythm and strategy where the player takes the role of a conductor controlling the actions of a cute army of “Ratatan” characters. Using commands on the controller, each button represents one of four musical phrases and must be struck in sync with an established rhythm in order to give instructions to the army. Ratatan doubles down on the musical theme by introducing characters equipped with musical instruments that can unleash special skills in battle, along with a more modern movement system while maintaining the same four beat attack-defense gameplay that fans love.

Gameplay trailer cast:

Fortrun (voiced by Tomokazu Sugita)

Harigittan (voiced by Hika Tsukishiro)

Nyandola (voiced by Haruna Yuzuki)

Mimizukyun (voiced by Youhei Azakami)

Keroronpa (voiced by Masaya Fukunishi)

Casting cooperation:

AGRS Co., Ltd.

Ratatan Game System

“Ratatans” are music-loving heroes brought to life with the power of Medama and look like animals that once lived on the planet Redo. They demonstrate their mysterious power by singing and playing musical instruments. Each Ratatan has a unique instrument and skill that the player can use to get an edge in rhythmic battle. For example, Keroronpa, a support-type character, uses a megaphone to stir up the battlefield, raising both party morale and enemy agitation. While Harigittan, a defense-type character, protects allies with numbingly good riffs on guitar.

As the Ratatan conductor, players control a unique variety of Ratatans to attack, defend and support as they march against their enemies. Ratatans can further gather “Cobuns” that can chant, move and attack according to the instructions of the Ratatan for an even larger army, making for one massive rhythmic showdown!

Ratatan Kickstarter Campaign

The Ratatan Kickstarter Campaign is set to feature a variety of stretch goals planned to expand the core gameplay with new systems, mini games and modern modes. If funded, Ratatan will be released on PC. Modern consoles will also be supported via a stretch goal. TVT’s very own “Theory Engine” will be utilized for a stable and expansive online multiplayer gameplay experience, allowing for players to march forward with a band of friends, anywhere in the world! For those looking to extend their gaming experience beyond the virtual world, Red Art Games is set to deliver stunning physical versions for modern consoles and a variety of high-quality items for Ratatan backers.

Known for its excellent art design and innovative gameplay, creator Hiroyuki Kotani’s Patapon series has been hailed by critics as “one of the best rhythm games ever released” and “one of the best titles for the PSP,” winning numerous awards. With its catchy tribal music and characters full of personality, Patapon‘s success inspired two sequels, titled Patapon 2 and Patapon 3.

Watch the trailer below. View the screenshots at the gallery.

Gameplay Trailer 

[burlveneer-music]

Bantu Spaceship - s/t LP - an Afrofuturist odyssey helmed by Joshua Madalitso Chiundiza and featuring Thandi Ntuli

Bantu Spaceship will have listeners embark on a journey. A journey that feels like you are being taken through a portal into another time, Afrofuturism. The rhythms give you a sense of the past, while you also sense the future with all the synth sounds. This album will have you playing it on repeat while you are travelling from town to village and vice versa. The temptation to call this work a masterpiece will be permitted if not echoed by audience members onboard. This combination of artists is rare. Joshua Madalitso Chiundiza, the craftsman behind sound production, is no stranger to providing out-of-this-world audio scenes, as evidenced by his past work as a member of alternative hip-hop band The Monkey Nuts. His work on the Bantu Spaceship proves that he has a knack for venturing out of his comfort zone and traveling through time and space. The rhythm of the project is upbeat, cruising within the mid-tempo range for the most part. The synths and voices offer a cool breezy, ambient atmosphere, making the project ideal for mood setting. Chiundiza's production sounds like something that was picked out of the archives of the mid-eighties Jit and Chimurenga music and then carefully blended with elements of Disco and Electronic sounds. His mix makes for a beautiful excursion through a landscape of memories lived and futures imagined. Ulenni Okandlovu, serves as the voice, the Captain of the ship, guiding us by way of Ndebele chants, laid back melodies and poetic verses. His calm nature enhances the experience as it sits comfortably on the music, creating the illusion that making music like this is an easy feat; it isn't - uniqueness never is. Featured on the album are the voices of Thandi Ntuli (who also contributed piano keys); Kwela Sekele; musicianship of DJ Kid Fonque; Sungura guitarist Sam Mabukwa; and a Robson Banda sample.

[kickerofelves]

Glen Lockett, the in-house producer and engineer for legendary punk label SST Records who was better known as Spot, has died, former SST co-owner Joe Carducci announced. Spot had been on oxygen after his fibrosis impaired his lung function in late 2021, and, three months ago, he was placed in a hospital following a stroke, Carducci revealed in a Facebook post. Lockett died earlier today (March 4) at a healthcare facility in Sheboygan, Wisconsin. He was 72.

As the longtime in-house producer for SST Records, Spot helmed the boards for essentially the crux of ’80s American punk rock. He produced more than 100 records, many of which are bonafide classics in the punk and hardcore world and have gone on to influence artists outside of the genre. Highlights from his body of work range from numerous Black Flag staples like Damaged, My War, and Jealous Again to Minutemen’s The Punch Line, What Makes a Man Start Fires?, and Buzz or Howl Under the Influence of Heat. Spot also produced Descendents’ Milo Goes to College, Hüsker Dü’s Zen Arcade, Misfits’ Earth A.D. / Wolfs Blood, and Saint Vitus’ self-titled debut, along with additional records for those bands and others.

Born Glen Lockett in Los Angeles in 1951, Spot was raised by his Native American mother and African American father, the latter of whom was a Tuskegee Airman who flew British Spitfires. He grew up listening to post-bebop jazz, surf rock, Motown, and whatever music he could find on the AM radio. After learning to play guitar at age 12, Spot tried his hand at clarinet and even auditioned for Captain Beefheart. It wasn’t until years later, when he offered to help with a recording studio build, that he learned about the ins and outs of studio recording.

Before he became an integral part of the SST sound, Spot was a musician, not a producer. While waiting tables at a vegan restaurant, he met Greg Ginn, the future co-founder of Black Flag and SST Records, and the two started jamming together in his band. After witnessing a Black Flag show gone awry, Spot decided he wanted to work the board on their next record, a decision that would result in a lot of “head butting” and, eventually, 1980’s Jealous Again. The rest was history.

“[SPOT] spelled his name in all caps with a dot in the middle of the O,” Carducci wrote on Facebook. “He started in Hermosa Beach playing and recording jazz and he took the primacy of live jazz playing into recording bands against prevailing attempts to soften or industrialize a back-to-basics arts movement in sound. When approaching the mixing board SPOT would assume an Elvis-like stance and then gesturing toward all the knobs he would say in a Louis Armstrong-like voice, ‘This is going to be gelatinous!’”

In addition to his work as a producer and engineer, Spot was also a published photographer and freelance writer. He wrote record reviews for the Los Angeles weekly newspaper Easy Reader. During shows, Spot would carry his camera around to document punk bands, fans, and the burgeoning counterculture scene, and he began photographing Los Angeles skateboarding circles as well. In 2014, he released Sounds of Two Eyes Opening, a collection of his photography work from that era.

“First and foremost, I’m a musician and everything else I’ve ever done has been based on that,” Spot told Vice in 2014. “It’s really the basis of all language and if you’re serious about the experience of music, you learn to keep both sides of your brain open and rely upon instinct rather than premeditation. Y’know, using improvisation and gut feelings as frameworks for rhythm and composition. In photography, the viewfinder should not be a limitation—it’s merely one part of a larger vision.”

Several artists have shared tributes in Spot’s honor after learning of his death. “good people, we just lost my old buddy spotski, a terrible blow,” tweeted Mike Watt. “he recorded the minutemen’s first stuff, I go way back w/this man. brother matt took this shot six years ago when spotski came to visit our pedro town... man, this is a terrible blow. I love you spotski forever.”

“SPOT always encouraged free expression and experimentation, even as those recordings were made as expeditiously as possible,” Hüsker Dü’s Bob Mould wrote on Twitter. Mould added that the producer “was a wonderful soul who loved making music, documenting the scene, and unconditionally supporting all the projects that bear his name.”