#kitty- bass and some back up vocals

[lovejustforaday]

2022 Year End List - #15

Teen S****de - Honeybee Table At The Butterfly Feast

Main Genres: Lo-Fi Indie Rock, Indie Folk

A decent sampling of: Post-Rock, Emo, Slowcore, Dream Pop, Neo-Psych, Noise Pop, Folktronica

WARNING: Too many potential triggers on this one to make a proper list. It's even in the band name (which I am uncomfortably ambivalent about). If you are going through a very rough time mentally, this could either comfort you or make things worse. Proceed at your own discretion.

So I decided to start off my 2022 year end list with a little bit of back story as to how I discovered the album which ended up placing at number 15. There’s a fair bit of context that I want to explain first, so buckle in.

I have been a big fan of the often underappreciated electro pop / synth pop / trance / chillwave rapper/singer Kitty for a few years now. The unlikely Tumblr girl who rose to semi-prominence as an ‘internet’ rapper  — before such a phenomenon became widespread thanks to soundcloud rap and the rise of music streaming services — has often been ahead of the curve when it comes to fusing pop and hip hop with very online aesthetics and sounds.

Kitty is also married to Sam Ray, a prolific artist who has been making music since at least 2009 as part of nearly a dozen solo projects and bands such as Ricky Eat Acid, American Pleasure Club, The Pom Poms, and of course Teen S****de (not the literal band name, but please bare with me as I try to get this review past the Tumblr and Instagram filters). As part of these projects, Ray has made music that ranges anywhere from indie folk to stuff like ambient, industrial, and even miami bass.

As I follow Kitty's instagram, I was made aware of Sam Ray's hospitalizations last year due to chronic respiratory problems. At one point, his condition was considered potentially life-threatening.

Fortunately, Sam is still alive and kicking. As you could imagine, the events of last year significantly impacted the music on this new record.

I myself had not listened to a full-length release from any of Sam Ray's musical projects up to this point. But I was inclined to check this one out, especially since the man had clearly gone through so much hardship to reach its completion. As an added bonus plus, Kitty also sings backing vocals on some of the tracks, so that’s pretty cool.

Upon listening, I have this to say: Honeybee Table At The Butterfly Feast is not an easy record. It is a folksy, watery, haphazard mishmash of three or more indie subgenres per song, with transient reflections from a man who has come very close to death on (as it turns out) more than one occasion. It is a collection of songs that are tenderly pessimistic, at times embracing something more like a nihilistic bliss (From "complaining in dreams" : "Everything is everything is everything is nothing / And when they finally kill me, I hope at least they make it funny").

Dropping another disclaimer right here: this album is not at all congruent with where I personally am in my life right now. All things considered, I have had a pretty good 2022 (and 2021 for that matter). I am mostly past the messy depressive/anxious episodes that rocked my life in waves between the years of 2017 and 2019, and I have a modestly comforting sense of security in where I am right now with my life.

And yet, this still resonates with me emotionally. I may be far in my current state from sharing the grim outlook that this record maintains almost religiously, but like most good music, it manages to transcend whatever my current mood is and make me feel its affecting pulse in a way that resonates. Several of the songs in particular managed to not only resonate, but access deeper pockets of the emotional faculties in my mind.

“get high, breathe underwater (#3)” is a mesmerizing lament of neo-psychedelic piano folktronica. The piano riff floats somewhere above and around the listener while remaining mostly static, sustained in an awkward stasis that mirrors lyrics describing the feeling of being completely stuck in one’s life position.

“new strategies for telemarketing through precognitive dreams”, apart from maybe being the best song title of the year, is also another major highlight, with compressed lo-fi indie guitars churning and decaying into wounded howls.

The album peaks with "coyote (2015-2021)", a long instrumental trek of slowcore-post-rock through a forest of once-forgotten memories. I imagine myself growing very old over the course of the song, years of life becoming mere footnotes and chapters that are part of a longer story, where I’m the protagonist nearing the end of a tragic young adult romance novel.

“complaining in dreams” is a dreamy lo-fi lullaby, musically not unlike something by The Radio Dept. This one has a particularly defeatist attitude towards the future of humanity, but the words are expressed in a manner so leisurely and whisper-soft that it’s as if these musings are the typical end-of-day thoughts passing through your head right as you fall asleep, only hoping to wake up in some universe completely different from our own current version of reality.

I have to say that not all of this stimulates me musically as consistently and successfully as it manages to resonate with me emotionally. Sometimes I feel like Teen S****de are bringing new ideas and breathing new life into the well-established tradition of ‘slow sad indie with folk guitars and noisy lo-fi’, while other times it feels like this record is paying a lot of homage to those artists in a similar vein that came long before this record, such as The Microphones.

Still, I simply had to include this record on my 2022 list, even if it was a pretty darn close choice for number 15 between this and at least three or four other albums that I ended up omitting. At the end of the day, this one formed a stronger connection with me than those other records. Honeybee Table At The Butterfly Feast is an album meant to be appreciated by the deepest recesses of the right side of your brain, marked with murky paintings of the adult imagination and overflowing with profoundly uneasy sentiments needing to be felt as much as they are heard.

8/10

Highlights: “coyote (2015-2021)”, “get high, breathe underwater (#3)”, “new strategies for telemarketing through precognitive dreams”, “death wish”, “complaining in dreams”, “you were my star”

[cu1tofdionysus]

Fasting all went 2 Bushwick together

Julian Foy is the type of guy you want to be your friend’s boyfriend. He has fiery red hair and wears silly cropped graphic tees, comes across as possibly gay when you meet him (he’s not!) & knows everybody and a little bit about everything. He’s the lead vocalist for a band called Fasting that sometimes plays at TransPecos.

Fasting is the type of band you’d want to play your zine release party. Composed of 5 members– Sean Lawson, Sean Terrrell, Gordon Gillespie, Julian Foy and Jessie Capozzi– They can sway a crowd, literally and figuratively. The dreary April night I saw them, they were one of a few acts inaugurating Rambler Magazine’s latest print issue. They were following a slow, jazzy type band at Village Works, a tiny indie bookstore on St. Marks. Who knew it was a music venue? The place was overflowing with books on tables and books on shelves. It was raining, forcing the indoor/outdoor party strictly inside. The owner of the venue was behind the register asking the musicians to “Keep it down!’ The band was practically on top of eachother, performing from a walk-in closet sized corner of the venue. The crowd was on top of eachother, too–”DON'T lean on the books, please.” Foy bounced around during the set wearing his graduation cap (Pratt Institute, Film,) warding off any low spirits. The guy next to me mutters to those surrounding him, “They’re really good!” twice, banging his shaved head back and forth. 

In the words of Capozzi, bass, keys, sometimes the sax, (Pratt, Drawing,) Fasting makes “very human music.” Some songs are shoegazey, or noise pop-y, some are more post punk. “You know me so well” has warbling, subdued and sweet, almost ghostly vocals. “Lay me down taking my shoes off / I forgot my socks/ grave was faded and hard to read/ written on a subway wall. ” But it’s less about the song’s lyrics and less about the buzz of the melancholic guitar and thrashing drums, those could be gone by the next song. It’s more about the universals, the mood, the feeling, the scenes they emulate.  

John Public, the band’s 2023 debut album, is a memento, a mixed bag, made up of songs as old as 2018, the birth of the band, all the way to 2022. Those first songs came to life in the Pratt Institute dorms, as well as friendship and mold. The album’s namesake, John Public, references an inside joke amongst Pratt students. “John Public” is the John Doe for Pratt’s  lost student ID poster. The album is about that time, going to art school in Brooklyn, part- time jobs and smoking cigarettes, sometimes hand rolled. Trying to scrounge up $7 for a Prontos Deli sandwich. Those days feel like dreams. 

The newest member, the second Sean, Sean Lawson (The New School, Jazz) joined the band after a quick DM exchange with Sean Terrell, drummer, (Pratt Institute, Painting.) I am told by multiple sources that Sean Lawson is a musical genius. Terrell messaged Lawson on Instagram, wondering if he knew anyone who could play lead guitar. Both Seans had met through “the scene.” Lawson could play lead guitar, a member of another band, Aggressive Squirrels, already. Everyone knows someone who knows someone who…

We have to rush to Bushwick, to the Fasting Apartment, because some of the band is driving to Jersey right after the interview for a house show, or house party, or something like that. Sage, my roommate and Foy’s girlfriend, has told me stories of foot fungus and rats plaguing the infamous crib. There’s a Popeye’s and Mcdonald’s nearby, attracting chaos and all sorts of creatures. This is the band’s headquarters, and 4/5 of the band’s general living quarters: Gordon Gillespie, rhythm guitar, (Pratt Institute, Photo) and then Foy, Terrell and Capozzi. Sean Lawson doesn’t live here, this is the first time he’s been here, actually. There's a CPR dummy perched above the kitchen counter and a Hello Kitty poster on the wall, gifts given from the mystical streets of the city. Adobo seasoning, an astray, headphones, pliers, half a pair of sneakers and a roll of duct tape litter the coffee table. Capozzi’s room has a pair of pants pinned to the wall. You can barely see the floor of Gillespie’s, who has a loft bed.

Keep reading for a conversation with Fasting about the band’s history, a secret 6th member, the creative process, and hating music.

----

CULT

How'd you meet?

JESSE

Most of us met at Pratt. Sean and Gordon were random roommates when they were freshmen like four years ago. 

CULT

Did you live in the apartment before? Or did you make the band before? 

JULIAN

Band before, 5 years ago now. Freshman year..

GORDON

Julian was down the hallway from me and Sean.

JESSE

There's also another member we need to speak about. 

GORDON

A secret member who is going to become a monk soon.

SEAN TERRELL 

He was our fucking grateful dead. What's the guy? He was our Jerry Garcia.

JULIAN 

So, in the Can-- paper thin walls and shared bathrooms for the entire floor. Right? 

CULT

Yeah.

JULIAN 

Naked people everywhere. People would have to go back to the room with a towel where other people were drinking Red Bull and vodka shots.

GORDON

Every Tuesday night everyone in the entire building would get hammered.

SEAN TERRELL

Because everyone had the morning class off, we all had 1pm classes.

JULIAN 

The walls were super thin. So, you could hear what was happening in every room as you passed by. In your room, you could hear conversations everywhere, even underneath, because the floor was just so thin. You could jump on it and it would bounce. You could bend the walls. They were made with thin plywood, to be temporary housing for the people who built the other dorm. We met because you could hear through the walls what people were doing. When they were making music, we could hear it. We'd just knock on just knock on the door and be like, what is that? What is that song?

GORDON

"My name is Julian and I'm a really good rapper. Let me freestyle for ya."

CULT

You rap? 

JULIAN 

Yeah, I was in a rap group called "Sort of Sober." We were all so bad.  We opened for Lil TiJay. That was our moment. For Lil TiJay at a club. That was pretty cool. 

JESSE

They all started playing music together. And then Eddie, who hasn't lived in New York for a while, joined. And then I floated in. Really early though, we wrote "talking to ed" like the first week I joined. 

JULIAN 

Jesse would float in to play the saxophone.

JESSE

People who could hear it through their wall would tell me to shut the fuck up.

I started talking to Sean, because I was in another band of people I knew from Long Island and I asked him to be the drummer. And he did that for a while. And I had class with Gordon, so we all kind of knew each other musically, and not musically. There was no real rehearsing at that time, a lot of making recordings in the dorm.

GORDON

It wasn't a group of people either. We had people floating in. Our friend Thomas wrote a song that we used to play in our set.

JULIAN 

We would have homies sit around giving us conceptual ideas. 

CULT

Was there a certain sound that you were aiming for back then?

JESSE

Any idea that came to our heads. A lot of indie? 

SEAN TERRELL

I was super into fucking Current Joys and Black Marble, and shit like that. Gordon put me onto shit that I used to hate, which was straight up emo music and Algernon 1000s math rock. Ones where the vocals are super annoying, and like whining. Now I love that shit. 

JESSE

When we were sophomores we started rehearsing more seriously with Julien singing, Sean drumming and singing a lot, Gordon playing guitar, and our friend Eddie playing lead. I was playing bass. We played one show, early February of 2020. We played battle of the bands. 

JULIAN 

Eddie faced away from the audience the entire time, because he was wearing a Michael Jackson shirt.

SEAN TERRELL

We lost because JHARIAH all voted for themselves. We joked that we were gonna vote for ourselves and JHARIAH did. There were probably about seven votes total, and five of them were everyone in that band. 

JESSE

Yeah, then Sean didn't come back to the city for the next year. Neither did Gordon. I started living with Julian and someone else. 

SEAN TERRELL

That was a dark period. That was sort of the Dark Ages.

JESSE

Sean (Terrell) came into the city to visit his girlfriend. That fall, we jammed once. It was really fun, we wrote a song. The next fall, I guess the fall of 2021, Sean moved back to the city to continue going to school. Then the four of us started living together. Eddie never came back after COVID. He moved to Colorado. We've still kept in touch. He was the greatest musician of the group, by far.

SEAN TERRELL

But he gave up making music and he deleted it off the internet and became a monk. He was super Russian Orthodox. In high school, he made music with this band called The Hellp, producing.

CULT

Wait, I’ve heard of them.

JESSE

There are some really funny pictures of him on the internet. I saw Reddit posts from a month ago, where someone was theorizing that he was still involved.

JULIAN 

He's got memorable licks. Tasteful, memorable melodies. You can hear it on "I will go outside." 

JESSE

So that's basically the history. Then Sean joined. Our friend Jamison, she played with us for a little bit, but it was a more casual thing. We played as a four piece for a little bit. Sometimes with Julian trying to play lead guitar, but not practiced. Sean Terrell DMed Sean Lawson asking if he knew any New School jazz guitarists who would want to be in the band. Which is crazy because he saw us play the worst, most tension fueled show of all.

SEAN LAWSON

There was a point in the set where Jesse said that it was their last show. It felt like everyone in the audience was like, "Was that a joke?"

JESSE

I liked that it was hard to tell. 

GORDON

You used to say that a lot. We used to be in the middle of practice. You'd be like, "Alright, we're done." 

JESSE

Because I thought that. I honestly hated it for a while. Not the band specifically, just playing. I don't know why I thought it was really stupid for a while. I think I was just really mad all the time at a lot of things in life. There was still enjoyment with playing music, but I got to a point like when I was finishing Pratt, like in 2022, where I actively didn't listen to music. Unless it was like jazz on the radio, for almost an entire year. 

SEAN TERRELL 

Through a tiny cassette player.

JULIAN 

That or baseball. 

JESSE

But even that whole time, I was still writing music.

CULT

Are you a perfectionist? 

SEAN TERRELL

He's like a contrarian.

JESSE

That's not true at all. 

CULT

Where does the name “Fasting” come from?

JESSE

They spent a whole week trying to think of a name. 

GORDON 

A whole year.

JESSE

Some silly names we were going to be, "Christmas." 

GORDON 

"Christmas band" does not work. "Dog with a cane" -- that was the first name. We had a SoundCloud with that name. We never posted anything.

JULIAN 

These nincompoops went on the balcony to smoke cigarettes. They come back like "Yo, we've thought of it. Balconies." 

JESSE

The name Fasting came from when we were still in school and Gordon didn't get paid for their Pratt job for a while. So they had no money. When Gordon was really hungry, they would say, "now I'm fasting."

GORDON

I was in the photo building. I was working the desk, but the way their system is, you don't get paid for the first month. One meal a day, your sandwich or something. Now we're all fat. 

CULT

I have three questions that go together. Do you live together, except for Sean, because you're a band or because you're friends? What makes you so close? And how much time do you spend together?

SEAN TERRELL

We live together because we're buddies. But the band did exist first.

JULIAN  

If we were having friend problems, we'd play music about it sometimes.

GORDON

Our early practices were so bad. If Julian was mad at Sean he would try and scream over him every time he was singing. I couldn't play the bass. They were just so bad. We wouldn't live together if we didn't also, like, enjoy spending time with each other a lot.

JESSE

We've known each other for so long. I think the closeness started early on. We've done a lot of shit together over the years. We've seen a lot of shit. We've seen each other grow up because it's been like fucking five years at this point, which is insane. Now we're all adults in the world having jobs, which is weird.

CULT

What genre are you? 

JULIAN 

We used to say "fast and fun." 

JESSE

Music for everyone under the sun.  I do think it's very human.

GORDON

(Mocking Jesse) "it's very human music." 

JESSE

Post punk, new wave, not so much anymore. Definitely math rock for people that can't count.

JULIAN 

Math rock for people missing fingers.

JESSE

We have a lot of overlapping musical interests but also everyone is into their own thing which is something I've always enjoyed. 

JULIAN 

Jamison was full on funk sometimes. And we had a saxophone.

SEAN

We usually like to have friends on the album. 

CULT

What's your music about?

JESSE

it's not about music, but it also is. (Laughter from the band.) Now I've gotten super into songwriting. There's so much to explore forever. I really enjoy experimenting with harmonies or with songwriting and dipping back into old ideas. So for me, it's about writing songs and trying to play them live. And having fun. Which we're trying to do for the first time.

SEAN 

I used to give a fuck about lyrics. And now I super don't. I only use lyrics as a vehicle to sing notes. They're more free associative. I would "free associate" words until I would come up with idioms or phrases that didn't mean something that I hated. Or could be construed in a way that was really dumb. Julian loves writing.

JULIAN 

I love writing lyrics and all my lyrics are about something. I always imagine that I'm trying to say something, and as I'm saying it, it's coming out through rhythm. Then the melody comes from music. For me, the first three or four years of making music, it was all rap. Malik, and Phil, from that band (Sort Of Sober), influenced me a lot. I used to write spoken word in high school, that's also rhythm based. But it wouldn't fit tightly into phrases. The two of them were like, your flows are terrible. Now I'm like, where can those things meet? Also a lot of improvisation. There's a lot of times during shows where I've sung lyrics that I never wrote for the band, or they came out live, and sometimes I'm not even saying words. That's fine. I might be saying words. I might be saying sounds. 

GORDON

It's a lot of poetic imagery. There's not a lot of concrete stories or ideas. 

JESSE

We haven't had a concept album yet. Unless the concept is drinking beer.

SEAN TERRELL 

Say that was the concept of the last one. 

[dammarchy211]

OKAY BETTER OLDER DESIGNS FUCK

I hate shoving a bunch of art into one post bc it never does well but w/e im doing it anyway</3

So! Raz and Lili are taking a more long term mission in a big city! So they have their own tiny apartment and Dogen is there too sometimes as their “man in the chair” type deal but I haven’t drawn him yet lol. As for other characters! They befriended Kitty when they were about 13-14 (was very hard they were all mean to eachother at first) because she had entered the intern program and was assigned to Cher! Now her, Lili, Frazie, and Lizzie are in a shitty mostly cover band bc I said so. Norma went very headfirst into the whole agent thing, but mostly takes up detective type missions, she just finds them more fun. Naturally Dion stuck with the circus, but Frazie’s mostly doing her own thing, kinda trying to find her calling for the most part, this stresses both Dion and Norma out gjfhdk. I have design stuff for other characters like Sasha n Milla as well as some oc stuff but I’ll post those later

!Blood/light gore/needle warning under the cut! Scar backstory ish baybyy

Tumblr has been kicking my asss with this one picture so if you see it twice or smth or if u don’t see it sorry</3

I wasn’t gonna post the Dex half of this but fuck it it just might not be on the insta post fjfhdkdh

Ever think about how villains and such wouldn’t be a able to go to the hospital for major injuries and such due to just generally being villains because yeah

[mrepstein]

The Beatles Book Monthly (No. 5, December 1963)

‘A TALE OF FOUR BEATLES’ by Billy Shepherd

PART IV (PART I // PART II // PART III)

Part IV opens in June, 1961 and charts Brian Epstein's early involvement with the Beatles.

And so the Beatles, with two experience-garnering trips to Germany behind them, got back to Liverpool. A swingin’ scene... and they were very much a part of it. It was the end of June, 1961.

But though they liked having more money to spend, they hadn’t the foggiest idea of just how much they were worth. The offers came in. Anything between £6 and £14 was the pay-packet, to be shared between Messrs. Lennon, McCartney, Harrison and drummer Pete Best.

“We just didn’t know,” admits George. “We loved the work, the excitement. We didn’t realise we were often being exploited. But it was hard work and somehow we didn’t seem to have much money in the kitty after we’d kept our equipment up to scratch...”

July, 1961, could go down as a summit meeting in Merseybeat history. A steamy, summery, shimmery night at Litherland Town Hall. A young promoter named Brian Kelly announced his attraction: The Beatmakers.

George Harrison was on lead guitar. Paul McCartney on rhythm. John Lennon on piano. Drummers were Pete Best and Freddie Marsden. Les Maguire operated on saxophone, Les Chadwick on bass guitar - and Gerry Marsden nipped on and off behind a big grin to take the vocals.

Gerry and the Pacemakers and the Beatles had linked up. For one night only and for a fee which is the smallest fraction of what they’d command for such a show now.

It led to friendships between the group members... but it didn’t seem to be leading to that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow for the Beatles.

Says John: “We went on knocking ourselves out night after night but somehow there was a bit of frustration creeping in to it all. It didn’t seem to be leading anywhere.”

But the audiences were greatly appreciative.

Says Paul: “We started accepting dates further south. We got pretty near London on some of them. No change of material for us - still the stuff that went down so well in Germany. But we were veering away from the leather gear. Don’t make this sound big-headed, but the fact is that a lot of other groups were copying the way we looked on stage. So we changed to more ordinary clothes for a while.”

But in September, depression set in. Paul and John took themselves off to Paris for a holiday. They remember being flat broke. Remember having to search through every pocket to rake up enough francs for a Coke. Now, of course, they can go where they please and not count the cost.

And George and Pete stayed on in Liverpool, virtually lost to the Beat scene. Ray McFall, owner of the Cavern Club remembers seeing Messrs. Harrison and Best around the lunch-time sessions but they seemed dispirited. They took a lot of persuading even to join in on the impromptu roar-ups.

Let well-known Liverpool show compere Bob Wooler fill in the background to this black spot in the Beatles’ history.

“I’ve known the boys since the early days. I’ve been a long-time admirer. What they really needed was a manager in those far-off days. They seemed content not to argue about the fees they were offered. And they didn’t seem to realise that they were pulling in crowds on the strength of their own name and performance.

“After all, they had to live. They had to look after their equipment - and they often had travelling expenses to pay. It’s all very well being popular and enjoying your work, but you should be paid what you’re worth as well.

“Ray McFall at the Cavern was different. If the crowd was good, he upped the fee. That’s why the boys have always been so loyal to the Cavern. But you can understand them being puzzled at the lack of hard cash from their other venues where they were so often doubling the attendances.”

Paul and John were meanwhile spending a lot of time on their song-writing. You’ll see how much they’d already achieved in this direction as the story pushes on to the first recording days.

John and Paul could never sit down and simply write a song to order. They admit: “We have to wait for the ideas to arrive. It can happen anywhere. On a bus, or a train, or backstage at a dance-hall or theatre. Sometimes the title suggests itself first. Then we get going on the words and music. Sometimes we’ve finished a very successful seller in less than an hour.”

But their most pressing need was for a manager. Paul has told me “When we first started on paid jobs, we honestly thought we weren’t manageable. We thought nobody would want to bother with us. We were a pretty off-beat bunch of characters, to say the least. And we had a sense of humour which somehow involved us all and which was hardly in the interests of discipline. So, for a long time, we just didn’t take any notice of the advice that we should be properly handled. ‘Who’d WANT US,’ was the way we thought...

“And that’s where we were wrong...”

A MANAGER. Liverpool man Allan Williams took on the chore for a while... he now runs the Blue Angel Club on Merseyside.

But the man who was to make show business history with the Beatles knew nothing about the group in that September of 1961. That man, of course, was Brian Epstein, one-time drama student, member of a family which owned a chain of furniture and radio-TV stores in Liverpool.

He was not exactly WITH the beat scene. But he WAS in touch with the public taste through his work in the record department of the stores. He’d been there for five years, building up the business, enlarging the staff roster and increasing the turnover.

And in September, 1961, he was a puzzled man. Fans kept approaching him with: “Have you any records by the Beatles?” Brian mused. Pondered. Wondered. One young lad was particularly persistent in his demands. Brian dug deep into the record-lists. And found reference to that “My Bonnie” single, recorded in Germany, on which the Beatles played a strictly supporting role to guitar-star Tony Sheridan.

“I became Beatle-conscious for a while,” he says. “I always tried to work on the theory that the customer was right - and if they wanted the Beatles, well... I’d do my best to supply the Beatles. Eventually I traced the source and ordered some 200 copies for the record-stores. They sold quickly...

“Then out of the blue I heard they were Liverpool boys, had a rapidly-growing following - and were actually playing in a club near the store. It was a place that I’m sure I’d visited before, a sort of teenage gathering-place, but I really didn’t know much about it.

“After a while, I thought I’d better pop down there and see what all the fuss was about.”

Brian Epstein went to the Cavern. Met the Beatles. And things really started happening for the ambitious but not-too-sure group.

There are two ways of looking at this near-historic meeting. Brian Epstein’s. And the Beatles’ viewpoint.

Beatles first. Said George: “He started talking to us about the record that had created the demand. We didn’t know much about him but he seemed very interested in us and also a little bit baffled.

“He came back several times and talked to us. It seemed there was something he wanted to say, but he wouldn’t come out with it. He just kind of watched us and studied what we were doing. One day, he took us to the store and introduced us. We thought he looked rather red and embarrassed about it all.

“Eventually, he started talking about becoming our manager. Well, we hadn’t really had anybody actually VOLUNTEER in that sense. At the same time, he was very honest about it all - you know, like saying he didn’t really know anything about managing a group like us. He sort of hinted that he was keen if we’d go along with him...”

Brian, quite honestly, thought that the Beatles looked a mess. He wondered what exactly they thought they were trying to be. Their strange jackets, the rather scruffy jeans, the hair-styles, which could only have been styled on something called “chaos.”

“But there was something enormously attractive about them,” he recalls. “I liked the way they worked and the obvious enthusiasm they put into their numbers. People talk about the Liverpool sound but I sometimes wonder what exactly they mean. These boys put everything into their routines but they didn’t use echo. That struck me as being a very good thing.

“It was the boys themselves, though, who really swung it. Each had something which I could see would be highly commercial if only someone could push it to the top. They were DIFFERENT characters but they were so obviously part of the whole. Quite frankly, I was excited about their prospects, provided some things could be changed.”

And Brian told his friends: “This could easily turn out to be the biggest show business attraction since Elvis Presley.” It’s a tribute to his foresight and intuition that that is precisely what has happened.

Brian decided to get the boys together at a round-table conference at his store. A time was fixed and the boys agreed. But Beatles are not always the easiest of people to organise. Brian sat waiting... and waiting... and waiting. He was trying to cope with the vastly complex figures of Christmas orders for the store and minutes were precious to him.

Eventually THREE Beatles arrived. George, John and Pete. No Paul. Story goes that Brian got George to ring through and see what had happened to the left-handed guitar-star. And that Paul admitted he was still in the bath... but wouldn’t be long!

Brian was rather on his high-horse. He felt it was not the right thing for someone who wanted to talk business to be kept waiting. He pointed out that Paul, the cherubic one of the four, would be extremely late. “Yes,” said George, forcing back a grin. “But he’ll also be extremely clean.”

Says Brian: “That sense of humour is invaluable. You could hardly feel annoyed at their lack of business ability. They were just four individual and off-beat characters.”

Prior to Brian taking such an interest, there was great concern among Cavern people that there was a chance of the Beatles packing in all thoughts of show business careers. Bob Wooler had tried hard to get BBC television producer Jack Good interested in the group. Jack had produced beat shows, like “Six-Five Special” which had been the stepping-stone to success for artistes like Cliff Richard. But Jack was also in demand in the States... and he’d gone there to further his own career long before Bob could get any decision from the telly-folk.

Brian, having eventually assembled all four Beatles in the same room, put his propositions to them. He went through a process of brain-washing, though he did it all very tactfully. He didn’t like their manner of dress. Wasn’t knocked out by the unruly hair-cuts. Was singularly unimpressed by the way they casually drank tea on stage while in the middle of shows.

He pleaded with them rather than ordered them. He knew they were a valuable property and he was knocked out at the way their personal following was growing through the Merseyside area.

Said John: “He’d tell us that jeans were not particularity smart and could we possibly manage to wear PROPER trousers. But he didn’t want us suddenly looking square. He let us have our own sense of individuality.”

He added: “We respected his views. We stopped champing at cheese rolls and jam butties on stage. We paid a lot more attention to what we were doing. Did our best to be on time. And we smartened up, in the sense that we wore suits instead of any sloppy old clothes.”

It was a master-plan. A long-term plan if necessary but it was aimed at making the most of four young men who clearly had that star quality in them... even though a recording contract was still more than nine months away.

Obviously, Brian Epstein’s main job was to get the group on record. He knew the strength of their popularity in Liverpool and he felt it wouldn’t be a hard job to interest some of the London companies. But that was where Brian was wrong.

He even delayed any sort of action until the results of the 1961 “Mersey Beat Poll” were announced. That came up at the end of the year. And the Beatles were high and dry in top place in this important survey of how the public felt about the myriad groups operating in the scene. Said Brian: “I thought this was the ‘Open Sesame’ to the recording scene. I felt that Liverpool was important enough to have London executives falling about to sign the boys. I was wrong...”

Brian, though technically still in charge of important parts of the family business, threw himself into the job of getting the Beatles known nationally. He had the backing of the Beatles’ parents and it was to be no holds barred for the major break through.

He started visiting London. Hopefully. Optimistically. But record executives showed an alarming tendency to register non-committal gloom. Brian had to keep reporting apparent failure to the boys - by now riding higher than ever in popular acclaim in Liverpool.

Cont’d next month in No. 6

[inhibited-irregularity]

EUROVISION 2021, personal favorites:

- Russia 🇷🇺

Manizha, Russian Woman: Absolute favorite. The sheer originality of the song! Her energy and the level of absolute badassery! She can sing, she can rap,and she's a bomb of energy. The way reggae and brass and hiphop and Slavic melodies overlap and it somehow works, the transitions between fun and "I'm bitter about the sexism and I'm mocking it unapologetically and making a stand" and the anthemic, emphatic and powerful message to Russian women; I was swelling with emotion while watching her. While to an American or a Westerner it may seem like performative feminism, I'm gonna remind you that in Russia and other Slavic countries that's very much not a thing and actually a very unpopular stand to make, and in Russia, The Balkans, and Eastern Europe in general, hundreds of women face domestic and sexual abuse on the daily, and those who do come forward rarely get support and are mostly dismissed. Let's not forget that Manizha got a huge backlash from the Russian government officials, and a big part of it was for her Tajik roots. The honesty of her message is real, and she's speaking from personal experience and the experience of women around her - nothing performative about her song, and you can tell from her delivery that the fire within her is true and she leaves her heart on the stage and pours it into the song. The staging and costumes are great as well, and symbolically well thougt-through. I would really like her to win, or at least get to the top 5. Most of all, I hope her message is heard and felt. 10000/10

- Italy 🇮🇹

Måneskin, Zitti e Buoni: definitely the closest thing to my actual music taste this year, so liking them off the bat wasn't a surprise. However, they're not just your regular Franz-Ferdinand-ish young alt rock band that wants to do rock "properly" - they have IT. The X factor, the Je ne sais quoi. I've been exposed to that particular genre, and I can confidently say that the song still manages to be refreshing and original (that bridge, those riffs!) The band has a great energy and no matter how much Damiano steals the show, they are still a unit and nobody is left in the shadows. They have the spirit of great rock bands of the previous century, and yet they don't try to copy anyone (khm,Greta Van Fleet, khm). Damiano's vocals are both powerful, seductive and provoking, and I'm still admiring the sheer amount of emotion he can pack into a single line and the nuance and yet rawness behind it. I'm not gonna state the obvious lol (the obvious being yes, I'm thirsty as well, he becomes yet another unattainable rockstar for me too,and yes they all look great) Anyway, great song, and maybe the clearest and most serious candidate for the number one spot, taking both the jury and the public into consideration. 10/10

- Iceland 🇮🇸

Daði Freyr and Gagnamagnið, 10 years:

What can I say about this masterpiece that hasn't already been said? A clear fan-favorite (hi, Valentina), but with the guns to back it up. The song is contagious, fun and campy, and unlike some other songs with said qualities, actually good from a musical perspective. Daði is incredibly charismatic and his sense of humor shines through, and even though he's the star of the show, the same can be said about the other band members. The synergy Måneskin has can be applied to Gagnamagnið as well, even though the energy is entirely different. They're serving us fun, sunshine, kitties rainbows sugar spice and everything nice, and manage to do it with zero cringe factor (plus those funky keytars). I'm one of those Eurovision fans that lament the golden age's (2004-2009) campiness (We'll never forget you, Verka), and Daði managed to bring it back, but modernised, polished and still sincere. I personally preferred the epic dad joke that slightly more commercial Think About Thing was (but that's one tough act to follow), but I'm always down for a husband adoring his wife and singing praises to their relationship. Since we're on tumblr, I feel obliged to use the term "cinnamon rolls" in describing Daði and the band. 9.5/10

- France 🇫🇷

Barbara Pravi, Voilà: She brought the theatrics, she brought the drama, and she brought the 101 in "that's how you perform". Her personality leaps through, and her voice is both beautiful and full of emotion and power. I'd hire her to star in a serious and artistic movie. Despite the fact that Voilà is from its melody to the singing style to the video to the vibe and the aesthetic hands down the most French thing I've seen since Amélie (do not come for that movie), it miraculously doesn't come across as a cliché, but rather an homage, and an individualistic one at that. It's not entirely my cup of tea, since I'm usually biased to songs that may come off as snobbish (I mean, the jury is going to lap it up), and are all about being proper and technical and oh how ~artistic~, but Barbara puts the soul into the immaculate. I'm not giving her the highest mark because I'm yet to see the performance, but I'm rooting for her. If she delivers the performance, we might have a clear winner. 9/10

- Ukraine 🇺🇦

Go_A, Shum: I'm a sucker for all things ethnic and mytological, so this was a no-brainer. I want that song played at every party. I want to go to the forest in the video and chant and summon the spring with flute and hard-bass. Kateryna Pavlenko has some unexplainable power over me, and her eyes are simply hypnotizing. The vocals are great, proper Slavic ethno right there (seriously, check out Slavic folklore and traditional music), and she has a subtle punk quality too(?). Ukraine came to save the spring and make us forget about the pandemic, and minus the Maruv fiasco (justice for her!), they always deliver and I expected nothing less. On the other hand, I loved the original version much more and couldn't help but be a bit disappointed with the revamp (yes, I know they had to), and while I personally love Shum, I think some other acts are more deserving of the higher placement. Go_A are not my winner, but definitely soon to be in my playlist. 8/10

- San Marino 🇸🇲

Adrenalina, Senhit ft. Flo Rida: You know that golden age of Eurovision I mentioned? THIS. I'm Serbian, so I can't resist a banger reminiscent of our horrible turbo-folk elements (and I say that endearingly,takes me back to 18th birthday parties (boy I'm glad that's over)). Let's just crown Senhit this year's Queen of Camp. The wild factor of Flo Rida...just?? Amazing. Can't wait to see how the performance goes (EDIT- it went great, I had a grin on my face the entire time and couldn't help but dance along). A certain refreshment after Serhat and Valentina Monetta endless loop. They didn't dial down the weird, but made it catchy af, and the vocal can rival any Balkan folk diva. While I think it's definitely the most entertaining entry this year, it's far from being the most original, and it's not really my genre of preference. Will vote for Senhit and root for her to qualify. 7.5/ 10

- Sweden 🇸🇪

Tusse, A million voices: As I mentioned before, I'm the first person that starts complaining about Sweden Superiority as soon as Eurovision season begins, and I'm with you all with being tired of Sweden qualifying just because they're Sweden and usually just bringing the same brand of MTV/Calvin Harris/American pop, or a successful and not-so-subtle imitation of the performances that did well the previous year,but listen: A million voices is a solid pop song and I'm going to die on that hill. It actually embodies the essence of pop - a catchy, pleasant melody sung by a good vocalist, with a short,sweet and uplifting message. It's not the same as previous years, it's not commercial, just good pop - good pop being something you immediately like and vibe to no matter how many common elements of the genre it checks. It relies on RnB rather than electronic sounds, auto tune or various DJ effects. Tusse is charming and charismatic af, and he's a 19yo kid doing an amazing job on a global stage. You don't have to like it, but there's no need to hate on it (ask Jendrik). Imo, Tusse deserved to qualify. Not winner material yet, but I wish him a fun time and a successful career. 7 5/10

- Switzerland 🇨🇭

G'jons Tears, Tout L'Univers: I saw the video first, and I HATED IT. It came across as a Duncan Lawrence-high-art wannabe, something technically perfect, but empty of soul or meaning, another soft boy with a sad falsetto, another jury-points bait. BUT. I changed my mind entirely after seeing him perform. Hands down, it was touching and epic. Reminding me of Hamlet aside, he DELIVERED, and made me love him, and actually enjoy the song. I still think the song is less original than Tusse's voices, but I enjoy the troubadour vibes of the pre-chours. G'jon is absolutely adorable, and I'm not gonna be mad if he wins. 8/10

shout-outs&honorable mentions:

- Serbia 🇷🇸 Yes, some national bias, but I'm proud of our girls. Ever Since we placed 2nd with Željko's Lane, we had that goddamn flute e v e r y year, and the same outdated scenography with a side of extra pathos (I'm sure that ruined Sanja's chances and her otherwise great performance back in 2016.) Finally something fun and actually representative of the music popular here. They looked flawless and the energy was off the charts. Go, Hurricane!

-Finland 🇫🇮 Yes, cheesy and corny and I cut my finger accidentally from watching the video on all the edge, but I'm biased because they're bringing emo and nu-metal back, and that's the music of my early adolescence (hello, Kaulitz brothers and Andy Biersack,hello Gerard Way and Linkin Park) Call me grandma lol

- Malta 🇲🇹 DESTINY CAN SIIIIIIIIING! I wasn't impressed with the song initially, but the performance blew my mind.

- Ireland 🇮🇪 A for effort, and so nice of her to try and give us something unique! While it wasn't good enough to qualify, it was super fun and she seems so nice. Also, we all know that she was out of breath an can sing much better than that. Still wasn't bad.

- Romania 🇷🇴, for being so young and brave enough to put on a show. The nerves got the better of her, but the song itself is good and no doubt she'll do well in the future

- Lithuania 🇱🇹, thanks for the memeries

- Croatia 🇭🇷, Not my cup of tea, but Albina gave a great performance

-Norway 🇳🇴, for embodying the spirit of Eurovision

- North Macedonia 🇲🇰, for the disco chest

- The UK 🇬🇧, for putting some effort

(Might edit later)

[cosmic-coyote7]

Speed write from suggestions via Twitter

[ Lukanette - Camp Rock AU ]

(Kinda camp rock but sorta touched the second movie more. Oh well. ^^)

~☆~♡~☆~

The sun rose above the cabins that formed a circle around a vast (and currently extinguished) firepit. The cabins were worn with their peeling paint and screen windows with holes in them, but many memories were contained in these structures. Countless lyrics had been written, hundreds of songs performed, and scores of various instruments had been housed here with their talented owners.

A sign at the entrance to the driveway declared this isolated place Camp Rock.

Legends had lived here and learned to find their voices and their talents. Being able to go here was a major opportunity and many worked hard for the chance to perform here.

One such performer was Luka Couffaine. Sixteen years-old and having been playing guitar since he was five, he lived and breathed music.

He hooked up his electric guitar into its amplifier as his fellow bandmate, Ivan, got behind his drums. His sister and bassist, Juleka, copied him in hooking up her instrument that was like another part of her body.

Ivan counted them down as Luke tested his microphone then ran his fingers over the strings, his electric blue guitar pick gleaming in the early morning sun. 

They began practicing, their sound projecting out over the campsite and beyond over the water.

Various campers began waking up and groggily making their way outside. Some people were jamming out with the band and dancing along to the sound, but most just looked annoyed at being woken up by loud rock music.

One of the few who looked grumpy was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She had once admired Luka, but she knew now he was a stuck up pretty boy who thought he was king of the camp because of his talent. 

They were rivals. 

Marinette preferred to sing and play piano. Luka could sing, too, but the guitar was his forte.

After the song was over, Luka jumped down from the stage and grinned broadly at Marinette, his dark and dyed hair already sweaty. 

He looked pretty, she gave him that, but she still didn't like his attitude. 

"How was that, Dupain-Cheng?" he asked smugly.

"It didn't put me back to sleep," Marinette offered. A few people snickered. 

Luka chuckled and backed up, his smirk prominent. "You ready for the battle of the bands tonight, Dupain-Cheng?"

Marinette’s smile was challenging. "You bet. Kitty Section will be blown away by Miraculous."

"That's my girl!" Alya Cesaire, the drummer for her band, stood proudly at her friend's side. 

Luka simply nodded then went back to join his own bandmates.

….

Later that afternoon, Marinette was hanging out with her own bandmates that made up her group, Miraculous. 

Their bassist (and sometimes pianist), Adrien Agreste, watched as she paced around and continuously fidgeted with her hair. "You okay, Mari?" he asked, concern in his bright green eyes.

Marinette scowled as she crossed her arms. "That Luka Couffaine thinks he's so cool and amazing," she huffed.

"I mean…" Alya turned her laptop around to show Marinette Kitty Section's Instagram and website. "They have over ten thousand followers."

"Half of them are simps for Luka," Adrien said dryly.

"He is pretty," Alya said fairly. "Talent and looks can get you ahead of the game."

Marinette rolled her eyes, not wanting to be reminded of Luka's sparkling eyes or his bright smile…

Anyway.

"We need to blow them out of the water at the battle of the bands," she said with determination. 

"Well, we're supposed to do covers tonight," Alya said. "Why don't we just focus on the topic we were given?"

"What was it again?" 

"Julie and the Phantoms," Adrien answered, his eyes twinkling. "We've been practicing 'Finally Free', remember?"

Marinette groaned and flopped down, resting her head in Alya's lap. "I'm so nervous. We need to be perfect tonight."

"I mean we'll be steller," Alya insisted, smiling as she patted Marinette’s head. "But we should just have fun," she continued as she gave Marinette her water bottle and the other sat up to drink. "You should just end this rivalry with Luka and kiss already."

Marinette choked and spat out her water as the fluid got down her windpipe and back up her nose as she coughed.

Adrien snickered, and Marinette threw a shoe at him in retaliation. 

"I do not wanna kiss Luka!" Marinette snapped, her cheeks flaming red like she had a sunburn.

"Mhm," Adrien and Alya said at the same time with twin tones of disbelief.

"I hate you both," Marinette grumbled as she grabbed her keyboard to continue practice. 

….

Luka chuckled as Juleka and her girlfriend, Rose, worked on adding sparkly designs to the instruments and jacket sleeves to look extra vibrant for battle of the bands.

"I'm so excited!" Rose gushed as she fiddled with Juleka’s jacket sleeve. She normally was their lead singer, but a cold had put her on vocal rest. She was already a chatterbox, so the best they could do was restrict her singing. "You guys are going to do an amazing 'Now or Never' cover!"

"Thanks, Rose," Ivan said as he tapped on his drums and adjusted their equipment. His smile was sweet.

"Miraculous is going to be a difficult rival," Juleka murmured in her usual soft tone.

Luka sighed. "We can handle them." His guitar strumming became a tad more aggressive. "The audience won't be able to take their eyes off of us." 

He took a pull from his water bottle, trying not to let the hostility take over and affect his playing. 

Rose smiled brightly as she dropped on the log Luka and Juleka were lounging on. They liked this spot on the shore of the lake. It was quiet over here. Peaceful.

"Yeah, but we know you won't be able to take your eyes off Marinette, Luka." 

Luka inhaled some water down the wrong pipe and choked for a minute as Ivan helpfully pounded him on the back. Knowing that was going to bruise his spine tomorrow, he scowled at Rose.

"You know it's true," Rose said with an upturned nose as she resumed her work with glitter.

Luka harrumphed as he grabbed his guitar and began to play more forcefully. "Come on. We have to practice."

….

"Welcome, rockers!" The head counselor, Clara Nightingale, beamed at the sea of campers that had gathered around the stage, eager faces upturned to gaze at the performers for tonight. 

"Is everyone having a good time?" Clara called. The campers cheered, their voices projecting out over the lake, sounding like a crowd at a real concert. 

Marinette was pacing up and down. She and her bandmates were huddled in a tented area to have privacy for changing and warming up. 

"Mari, will you chill? We got this." His smile was warm and encouraging, but Marinette still felt the jitters of stage fright. She, who burst into song practically everywhere she went, was nervous. It was a weird feeling.

Alya smiled as she finished her make up and put an arm around Marinette. "Don't worry about the competition part. Just rock their socks off, girl!"

Marinette smiled at her two best friends then joined them in a group hug. "You guys are the best."

….

Kitty Section was playing their best. That was obvious to everyone. Luka was shredding the notes and letting the entire camp hear just what his guitar was capable of.

Juleka’s deep bass added a mystical melody to the higher electric cords.

Ivan's drums boomed like thunder amongst the string instruments, their rendering of the opening song for Julie and the Phantoms was causing the audience to scream and jump around.

"We ain't searching for tomorrow..."

Ivan's deeper voice could be heard even over the wailing instruments. 

"Tomorrow," Juleka echoed him, her voice hypnotic. After she came out of her shell, she had found her singing voice.

"Because we've got all we need today,"

"Today," Juleka choruses.

Luka grinned at his sister then got up to his mic. 

"Living on a feeling that's been running through our veins"

Juleka stepped up to her microphone and belted out, 

"We're the revolution that's been singing in the rain!" 

She flipped her hair back as she held the last note, and the crowd went nuts.

They clapped along with the audience singing the chorus then rounded off the song. They took a bow and smiled hugely at their fellow campers. 

Marinette, who was standing off to the side of the stage, couldn't help but be entranced by Luka and how alive he looked up on stage. He was amazing…

….

Her jitters were gone. Her fears a mere memory.

Marinette had never felt so free than when she was performing on stage with her bandmates.

Adrien and Alya added their backing vocals as she sang 'Finally Free' with all the energy she could muster.

"We're all bright now

What a sight now 

Coming out like we're fireworks,"

Marinette giggled as Adrien jumped around and stamped his feet. He was a goofball, and she knew he found his happiness in music to escape his life at home.

"Marching on proud

Turn it up loud

Cause now we know what we're worth"

Alya beat on her drums and smiled wickedly as she sang and added her lower voice to the melody. 

Adrien joined Marinette in a duet, and he winked at her as she drew out the end of the verse and they jumped into the chorus.

Marinette danced over to Adrien and offered her mic. He grinned and sang back and forth with her.

"I've got a spark in me"

(I've got a spark in me)

"And you're a part of me"

(And you're a part of me)

"Now till eternity"

(Now till eternity)

"Been long and now we're finally free"

….

Little did Marinette know that as she danced away to jam out beside Alya's drums that a pair of light blue eyes was watching from the crowd, and they burned with jealousy.

….

Marinette finished the song, drawing out the note perfectly then grinning as she took a bow.

Adrien and Alya jumped up as the campers screamed even louder and applauded them.

Once she was off the stage and Clara had taken over again, Marinette paused as she saw a familiar figure standing beside the bonfire.

Luka was watching her with an odd expression: determination mixed with irritation and maybe… some admiration?

"Hey," Marinette greeted him. She smiled slightly, deciding maybe she had been a little petty. Seeing Luka so vibrant on the stage had softened her armor. "You and your band were spectacular. "

Luka blinked as if he wasn't sure how to react.  He lost a lot of the irritation to be replaced by shock. "Uh… thanks," he said nimbly.

She smiled, and he responded to it with his own. 

"You looked radiant up there." 

Marinette’s cheeks felt hot again. She smiled shyly and said, "Thanks, Luka."

He looked at her, really looked at her. Weeks of being rivals and giving one another a hard time all seemed like a childish waste of time. 

The way her eyes shimmered in the firelight did funny things to his heart.

Marinette walked up to him and leaned up, intending to kiss his cheek and consider them friendly rivals from that point on, but two friends who happened to be watching made their move.

Rose bumped into Luka and sent him right into Marinette while Adrien braced behind her long enough to avoid them hitting the ground.  He slunk away as the pair stared into one another's eyes for a long moment. 

Then they leaned in for a gentle but emotional kiss. They leaned back at the same time to touch foreheads, their smiles as radiant as the rearing fire behind them.

Clara was announcing the winner behind them, but it didn't matter. In Luka's and Marinette’s eyes, they both had won.

[dustedmagazine]

Dust Volume 7, Number 9

Les Filles de Illighadad

Another collection of short reviews closes out this week at Dusted, with selections ranging from avant garde classical to free jazz to whacko punk to an unusually gender-inclusive guitar band from Niger.  Writers this time included the usual stalwarts, Bill Meyer, Ray Garraty, Jennifer Kelly, Jonathan Shaw, Bryon Hayes, Tim Clarke, Andrew Forell and Chris Liberato. Enjoy.

All Set — All Set (RogueArt)

In 1957, serialist composer Milton Babbitt’s All Set applied his language-transforming compositional tool kit to the sonic resources of a jazz orchestra. Six decades and change down the road, such ideas haven’t exactly infiltrated the mainstream of either jazz or orchestral music, but they’ve become as handy for some music makers as hammers and nails are for carpenters. So, when saxophonic colleagues Ingrid Laubrock (who sticks to tenor here) and Stéphane Payen (playing the straight alto) needed to come up with a framework to make music together, out came Babbitt’s notion, which they did not play straight, but used as a suggestions for writing their own tunes, and for good measure named their band after the Babbitt’s piece The formative influence manifests in zig-zagging intervallic leaps, but instead of treating these of ends in themselves, the saxophonists carry on constant overlapping dialogues. The rhythm section of Chris Tordini (bass) and Tom Rainey (drums) can’t help but swing, but they do so in a shifting, discontinuous fashion that occasionally leaves it to the saxophonists to play the gaps as well as the horns they use the fill them.

Bill Meyer

 Rodrigo Amado Motion Trio & Alexander Von Schlippenbach — The Field (No Business)

The Field by Rodrigo Amado Motion Trio & Alexander von Schlippenbach

Motion Trio is one of tenor saxophonist Rodrigo Amado’s more enduring combos. But it’s not one that has played often in the years preceding this concert, a consequence of the growth and success of its members; Amado, cellist Miguel Mira and drummer Gabriel Ferrandini all keep busy with other projects. So, this encounter with pianist Alexander von Schlippenbach, which took place in Vilnius, Lithuania in 2019, was not just a reenactment of the trio’s favorite tactic of improvising with a strong fourth musician, but a reunion of the trio itself. This means that the process-oriented can listen for three comrades finding reviving a common language at the same time that they confront with an outsider’s efforts to deal with it. Schlippenbach’s playing brings an unusual harmonic density to Motion Trio’s music, which seems to coax an especially dynamic and at times reflective response from the saxophonist. Ferandini, on the other hand, proposes shapes and timbres that seem to build out from Schlippenbach’s intricate constructions, while Mira keeps up a steady, almost subliminal stream of contrapuntal commentary that is simultaneously assertive and nearly subliminal. But some of the concert’s most exciting moments come when the pianist lays out for a second, and you can hear Motion Trio’s members responding to each other.

Bill Meyer

  BangGang Lonnie Bands — H2K On the Way (TF Entertainment \ Anti Media)

Lots of artists have watched small projects intended only as appetizers grow to surpass their grander efforts. BangGang Lonnie Bands’ recent work, especially his King of Detroit albums, contained a few gems but were bloated in length. There was an ironic twist, as Lonnie’s claimed the throne to the city where he no longer resides. While it remains to be seen what the rapper brings after H2K On the Way, this 15 minutes long EP is his leanest work in years, leaving a long list of LPs behind. Lonnie no longer flirts with scam rap and returns to murder music, fusing gutsiest Michigan-style punchlines with no hostage Californian approach to verse spitting. He’s the naughtiest when he’s trolling the music industry: “Copped a 100 pounds of crank \ should have bought a verse from Drake.” 

Ray Garraty  

  Buffalo Daughter — We Are the Times (Anniversary)

Buffalo Daughter always caught in the cracks between mainstream and experimental, layering vocal sweetness over chopped up blippy beats, not as wildly original as OOIOO, but not exactly girl pop either. This latest album comes after a long break and a slightly less lengthy COVID lockdown, and it’s got some prickly, dreamy jams, part dance, part pop, part funk, part inscrutable. “ET (Densha)” is the mad, moody single, full of low-end synth blasts and thundering drums, but leavened by high whispery vocals. It’s like Shackleton sound-tracking a Hello Kitty movie. “Global Warming Will Kill Us All” is similarly ominous, with vocoder chants and trippy pop choruses and blown out by phosphorescent blots of synth, but I like “Don’t Punk Out” the best, because it struts like an animatronic James Brown, the funk percolating through gleaming futuristic swells of sounds. If disco’s going to come back, can it be this weird and disorienting?

Jennifer Kelly

 Fashion Pimps and the Glamazons — Jazz 4 Johnny (Feel It Records)

Jazz 4 Johnny by Fashion Pimps And The Glamazons

This new EP from Fashion Pimps and the Glamazons manages to fit into the tradition of whacko punk records from Cleveland (and what a tradition that is…) and to comment on the problematic nature of tradition itself. There’s a decided No Wave vibe to Jazz 4 Johnny: listen to it, and you’ll flash on Buy Contortions and on Robert Quine’s attempts to channel Miles Davis and Pharoah Sanders through his guitar. At points you’ll swear there’s a sax somewhere in the buzz and thunder that the Fashion Pimps create — but that’s just Richard Glamazon’s skronky guitar tone, which does Quine one better by not only aping the cadences of a free jazz solo but also the sound of a brassy axe. That’s fun, but we should also recall No Wave’s sharp antipathies for concepts like “tradition” or “perpetuity.” A lot of those bands wanted to neutralize their own existence and thus evade the ultimately conservative action of canonization. Other tunes on Jazz 4 Johnny are more engaged with the later Downtown noise rock scene. The guitar on “Dream Police” gestures toward early Sonic Youth—but even there, the band can’t quite help themselves. Vocalist Steve Chainsaw shouts, “Show me your DNA!” Most of those references are based in Manhattan, so what about Cleveland? The city often recedes into the background when conversations turn to rock-n-roll history, which is too bad. Fashion Pimps and the Glamazons don’t sound all that much like electric eels or Pere Ubu, but the band is tuned into a similarly feral, post-industrial ethos and an avant-garde sensibility that makes anti-art into art you can dance to. Or break things to. Or both. Which may be the best response to the wild and smart tunes on this record.

Jonathan Shaw

 Les Filles de Illighadad — At Pioneer Works (Sahel Sounds)

At Pioneer Works by Les Filles de Illighadad

The entrancing At Pioneer Works documents the American touring debut of Niger-based Tuareg ensemble Les Filles de Illighadad, specifically a pair of shows at the eponymous Brooklyn venue. Travelling as a four-piece ensemble, the band created a swirling three-guitar maelstrom, as captured on this pristine-sounding recording. Founder Fatou Seidi Ghali — the first known woman Tuareg guitarist — and her cousin Alamnou Akrouni were joined by Fatimata Ahmadelher, the only other known woman Tuareg guitarist, with Ghali’s brother accompanying on rhythm guitar. Blending the traditional calabash drum and call-and-response vocals of the tende song form with the electric guitar, Ghali and company steep the communal origins of their sound with a gentle clangor. The music is simultaneously hypnotic and driving, the four performers acting as one multi-limbed, multi-throated being. For the most part, Ghali is content setting the pace and playing along with the melody. One exception is the trio of deftly executed solos during “Chakalan,” where she demonstrates her prowess with six strings. Reports from those Brooklyn shows indicate that the band completely enraptured their audience, and if At Pioneer Works represents only a fraction of how powerful Les Filles de Illighadad are live, this writer doesn’t doubt that at all.

Bryon Hayes  

 Henri Guédon — Karma (Outre National)

Karma by Henri Guédon

You don’t have to be a big fan of R.E.M. to feel overly familiar with “It’s The End of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine).” In dire times, it’s such an easy go-to tune that even adherence to lockdown prescriptions won’t keep it out of your ears. So, deejays, we’ve done your research for you, and found a new tune to soundtrack defiant frugging in the face of disaster. It’s called “Fin Di Mond,” by Martinique-based singer/percussionist/sculptor Henri Guédon. It, and eight more similarly motion-motivating tunes, can be found on Karma, a predominantly celebratory set of retro-futuristic, Franco-Caribbean grooves. Mind you, this music wasn’t retro when Guédon recorded it 46 years ago; the synth lines that swoop through its massed percussion were probably the height of modernity back in the day. Heard now, this music is just the thing to put time itself on pause.

Bill Meyer

HTRK — Rhinestones (Heavy Machinery)

Rhinestones by HTRK

Rhinestones is a sneaky one from Melbourne’s HTRK, a slight but incisive release that seems minor compared to their previous albums but cuts just as deep. Running to a brutally economical 26 minutes, most of the album is built around delayed guitar, drum machine and Jonnine Standish’s ghostly, dejected voice. To a world laid low by the pandemic, Standish sounds startlingly apposite for these times, and track titles like “Sunlight Feels Like Bee Stings,” “Real Headfuck” and “Straight to Hell” signpost the vibe clearly. This is sad, skeletal music, sure to offer a degree of solace if you’re weary, wrung out or wasted — 2021 in a nutshell.

Tim Clarke  

 Matt Jencik — Matt & Lyra (Trouble In Mind)

Matt & Lyra by matt jencik

Matt Jencik is a member of doomy, spacey Chicago band Implodes, plus he’s released two solo guitar albums: 2017’s Weird Times and 2019’s Dream Character. For his latest, Matt & Lyra, part of Trouble In Mind’s Explorers Series, Jencik focuses on the thick, fuzzy tones of the Russian-built Lyra-8 synthesizer (hence the album title). Having said that, he does pull out his guitars to add some acoustic strumming to “Cmellow Ayellow,” and builds 16-minute closer “Clandestine Half Pipe” around electric guitar drones before the Lyra begins to dominate the frame. Jencik apparently made this music to help him sleep, and while this music is suited to nocturnal listening, with an all-enveloping warmth, there’s also the sense of something looming in the darkness. Whether this presence is reassuring or threatening probably depends on the frame of mind with which you approach this immersive 35-minute release.

Tim Clarke

 Joakim — Second Nature (Tiger Sushi)

French producer and Tiger Sushi founder Joakim’s Second Nature is a reflection on the state of the world. It combines samples of whales, elephants, toads and other wildlife with the kind of pop facing ambient techno from aughts chillout compilations.  It is testament to his skill as a producer that the record doesn’t wear out its welcome despite the occasional lapse into the anodyne and the associations this kind of gentle background music evokes. When Joakim disturbs the tranquility on tracks like “Sferics & Whistlers” with its crackles of static and breakdown of discordant notes, Angel Bat Dawid’s klezmatic clarinet on “Waves Ahead” and the komische roll of “Kepler-39” that one is jolts from reverie and pays close attention, but at 16 tracks it feels like Second Nature needs more such moments.

Andrew Forell 

 The Killing Popes — Ego Kills (Shhpuma)

Ego Kills by The Killing Popes

Thank god this unfortunately named combo isn’t someone’s absurd scheme to crossbreed the sounds of Killing Joke and Smoking Popes. Instead, the Berlin-based project exists at the crossroads of jazz and electronics. I know what you’re thinking, and no this isn’t a modern take on acid jazz; this crew makes a jazz-on-acid sort of racket. The core Popes are drummer-percussionist Oli Steidle and multi-instrumentalist Dan Nicholls, who together conjure up a brew with a myriad of ingredients. Their genre-defying fusion of disciplines does have a center, however. Steidle’s dextrous drumming and the elastic band bass proffered by Phil Donkin serve as an anchor point for the other elements — both melodic and bizarre — to revolve around. The addition of vocals inserts the sense of narrative, creating a gravity that tugs at the sounds and prevent them from spiralling out of orbit. As zany as Ego Kills may be, it’s jazz-like enough for afficionados to appreciate. On their own, each of the instrumentalists demonstrates a mastery of their craft; together, they create an uncanny sort of magic.

Bryon Hayes

 Norman W. Long — BLACK BROWN GRAY GREEN (Hausu Mountain)

BLACK BROWN GRAY GREEN by Norman W. Long

Chicago soundscapist Norman W. Long walks his southeast Chicago neighborhood, listens deeply and records the ambient sounds of nature, the echoes of railyards, wasteland and industrial sites both working and abandoned. Adding subtle electronics and treatments to his field recordings, Long conjures atmospheres that speak to space, atrophy and the delicate symbiosis between nature and humanity. On BLACK BROWN GRAY GREEN he immerses listeners in the often unnoticed aural richness at the intersection of the built, neglected and the natural. His choices about when to augment or to present his sources as are forms a narrative of associations, displacements and tensions. Long’s is also a story of reclamation and recognition, a rumination on the situation of the largely minority and migrant populations who live in the neighborhood, many of whom toil as essential workers across the city in the face of ongoing prejudice and hostility. Site specificity is integral to Long’s art but his themes are universal.

Andrew Forell 

 Andy Moor — Music For Safe Piece (Unsounds)

Music For Safe Piece by Andy Moor

Music For Safe Piece is the antidote for every piece of children’s music that’s ever made you want to not hear another played or sung note, ever again. Electric guitarist Andy Moor (the Ex, Dog Faced Hermans) and dancer Valentina Campora have included their sons, Elio and Milo, in onstage performance ever since they were so young, they had to be swaddled and strapped to one of their parents in order to participate. The recorded results of this shared adventure are raw, unpredictable and exhilarating. Moor’s guitar, occasionally augmented by a child’s vocalization, a foot pounding the floor or some choice tune fragments on a cassette tape, blazes a trail of reverberations, scrapes and wobbles. In performance, the boys are known to get in on the act, helping pop to make his sounds while mom handles the movement. This music isn’t particularly pacific, but it’s pretty close to the way kids actually play when no one’s stopping them. The technologically adept will find a QR code inside the CD’s gatefold, which unlocks the short film, “Safe Piece.”

Bill Meyer

RXM Reality — Advent (Orange Milk)

Advent by RXM REALITY

Long-time Hausu Mountain dweller Mike Meegan has relocated to the Orange Milk abode, taming his frenetic brand of electronic mayhem in the process. The blown-out, off-the-grid beats are still plentiful, but with Advent Meegan injects his tunes with melody. He’s also allowed himself to slow down and relax. The vast expanse of “Character Limit” literally breathes deeply as Meegan allows it to swirl around. He drinks up the pleasant melodic aromas of the track before switching gears and unloading burst after burst of explosive beats. “These Days” comes off as an electro-shoegaze hybrid, with gauzy synth pads that float effortlessly among bouncy percussion clusters. Of course, the signature RXM Reality sound — a hybrid of 1990s video game and blockbuster movie — is present and accounted for in tracks like “Allure,” “Screaming,” and “Grip of Evil.” Yet even these balls of energy are tempered with shades of consonance. Having blunted some of the jagged edges of his frantic brand of electronic music, Meegan fits in nicely among the kooky ranks of the Orange Milk imprint.

 Bryon Hayes

 Macie Stewart — Mouth Full of Glass (Orindal)

Mouth Full of Glass by Macie Stewart

You might already know Macie Stewart as one-half of the complicated indie rock duo Ohmme or for her regular appearances as violinist of choice in Chicago jazz and experimental music scenes, but this solo LP shows another side.  These eight songs are lushly, intricately arranged with strings, orchestral instruments and brass, recorded with precision and clarity, but nonetheless personal and introspective.  “Garter Snake” sheathes flaying honesty with baroque instrumental flourishes. Stewart’s voice is bare and unaffected as she confides, “I am addicted…to indecision,” but she makes riveting choices in framing the melody.  Old-fashioned movie strings swell in the spaces between talking-right-to-you verses; agile guitar chords mark time.  “Finally” begins in bare, Bahian guitar play, as Stewart’s voice flutters and floats an unpredictable but fetching tune.  Strings swoop in at the end of the phrase, lavish and lucid.  The title track unlooses massed, harmonized vocals on the spare architecture of picked guitar, a shock of extravagant sung beauty in an otherwise restrained palette.  Like Wendy Eisenberg, but with different instruments, Stewart weaves post-modern complexity into the delicate fabric of pop songs.  The difficulty — combined with the beauty — makes this music memorable.

Jennifer Kelly

 Stingray — Feeding Time (La Vida es un Mus)

Feeding Time by Stingray

In places where heavy music is played and endlessly debated, 1982 might be most strongly associated with English street punk — see the ersatz “genre” of UK82, which enshrines the year and ties it to acid green liberty spikes and scuffed Doc Martens. Fair enough. But street punk was thoroughly informed by the dirty working-class metal being made by bands like Motörhead and Venom, and this new EP by Stingray celebrates those noisy intersections of influence. Of course, Stingray’s version of celebration likely involves several cases of Bass Ale, an eightball of something white and a fistfight or two. Or five. The English band features members of other current hard-driving acts, including Subdued, the Chisel and Chain of Flowers, but Stingray doesn’t prize currency. The songs are short, hard and nasty, landing their punches like a “Bomber” and also like a bunch of “Death Dealers.” The guys in Stingray understand the past they’re drawing on, but does music like this have a future? Fuck knows. Do any of us have a future? Does the earthball? The tunes are less interested in such flights of existential angst, and more intent on their rapacious appetites for speed, sweat and raunch. It’s Feeding Time. Get it while you can.

Jonathan Shaw

Nick Storring — Newfoundout (Mappa)

Newfoundout by Nick Storring

You’ll miss some towns if you blink. The ones that have given their names to the compositions on Newfoundout might confound both eyesight and your GPS, since they are all ghost towns in Ontario, Canada. The music that Nick Storring has made to go with these titles is correspondingly elusive. Performed entirely by the composer, using strings, percussion and whatever bric-a-brac happened to be at hand, it is by turns lush, staccato and propulsive. “The sounds are never particularly difficult, but they rarely telegraph where they’re going, so if you listen passively, sooner or later you’ll look up in dismay, wondering how things got from where they were to where they are now. “Khartum,” for example, starts out sounding a lot like “In A Silent Way,” and finishes up sounding like a respectfully paced conference of grandfather clock chimes. So, put your head back and your ears forward, and let Mr. Storring do the driving. 

Bill Meyer

Ten Ka — Sonic Geometry: Structures, Patterns And Forms (Jersika)

sonic geometry: structures, patterns and forms by TEN KA

Ten Ka is experimental side project of Deniss Pashkevich, a Latvian woodwinds player. The album title’s invocation of mathematics is apt, since this music is produced by dissimilar musical values acting upon each other. Pashkevich’s sound on tenor sax is full and soft around the edges, which is probably what it takes to be a working musician in a part of the world that doesn’t have much of a jazz tradition; on flutes, and especially the Bansuri, he hints at a far Eastern vibe. He also plays Fender Rhodes and prepared acoustic piano, bringing in further elements of user-friendly jazz, but also some sharp, Cage-y edges. But most of the nine tracks on Sonic Geometry: Structures, Patterns And Forms feature modular synths, which provide a foundation of pulsing bass patterns and some intriguing disruptive, acidic sizzles.  It all adds up to something simultaneously familiar and out of the ordinary.

Bill Meyer

 Luis Vicente / Vasco Trilla — Made Of Dust (577 Records)

Made of Mist by Luis Vicente & Vasco Trilla

Not many improvisational settings are more exposed that the drums and trumpet duet. The two instruments are sufficiently different in timbre and frequency range that you can’t help but hear everything each player does, and also how those actions fit together. Trumpeter Luis Vicente and percussionist Vasco Trilla approach this situation with a combination of relaxed consideration and wholly earned confidence. Vicente can power-play when necessary, but for this session, he exercises restraint, using mutes to extract the most lyrical and vocal sounds he can muster. Trilla likewise seeks out the extremities of his kit, drawing continuous ribbons of widely differing characters, such as the alarm clock-like clatter and low-scrubbed drumskin heard on “Swirling Mist.” Their interactions are not just sonically novel, but trusting and deeply intimate.

Bill Meyer   

 Simon Waldram — So It Goes (Self-released)

So It Goes by Simon Waldram

Simon Waldram’s refrain-heavy eighth solo album, So It Goes, is a song cycle on love, loss and acceptance influenced by classic indie pop bands like The Field Mice, The Fat Tulips and The Go-Betweens. Indeed, it was the Grant McLennan-channelling “Don’t Worry,” a plaintive reassurance to a past lover, that initially caught my attention. But “I Miss The Sun” betters it, really laying on the Hammond, and squeezing in something noticeably absent from the other songs: a bridge. “When will we see the lull again/Feels like these dark days will never end,” Waldram sings, reestablishing buoyancy as it winds down repeating the title phrase. There’s promise elsewhere, like on the 1960’s-flavored psych strummer “Boats In The Sky,” before it lifts its bow in harmonic repetition a few too many times without checking its fuel gauge first, stranding itself in the firmament. “The Wild Wanderings of Wildebeests” is another one with potential, but its flawless first verse’s worth of strum and fuzz just recurs instead of building towards something of greater impact. The record hits its lowest point on the nearly nine-minute “Windswept,'' a “Primitive Painters'' rip that goes nowhere productive. When Waldram starts repeating ad infinitum “I miss you so much/ I can’t let go of this dream of ours,” you wish you could step in and save him from himself. A pleasant enough acoustic instrumental with birdsong follows in the form of “One May Afternoon,” serving as a much-needed palate cleanser and bridging the gap to the album’s closer. However, “Shimmer” is another moaner that never quite rounds into shape and instead fades out and then, unremarkably, back in.  There’s an EP’s worth of good material on So It Goes, but as an album it only ends up burning itself with the flame its carrying, leaving the listener wondering, “Who hurt you, Simon?”

Chris Liberato

[gingermusings]

KITTY SECTION, A DISCOGRAPHY. 

Members: Adrien Agreste (guest/honorary member- piano & keyboards), Ivan Bruel (drums & occasional vocals), Juleka Couffaine (bass & backing vocals), Luka Couffaine (lead guitar & backing vocals), and Rose Lavillant (lead vocals). 

Formed in 2013, Kitty Section was a band not meant to every actually go anywhere. It’s eldest member, Luka Couffaine, was only eighteen at the time of its founding, with his younger sister, Juleka Couffaine, being sixteen along with her close friends Rose Lavillant and Ivan Bruel. The Couffaine siblings had always been involved in music, growing up on a houseboat that was never without some song or melody playing somewhere in the background. Their mother, semi-famous musician Anarka Couffaine, may have left the public eye and industry when she found herself pregnant for the first time, but she never let go of music in her life - encouraging both of her children to learn to play any instrument that caught their attention. So it wasn’t a surprise to anyone who knew them when they decided to create a band together, bringing in two of Juleka’s close friends to complete the original Kitty Section lineup. Along with famous model Adrien Agreste, who throughout the band’s entire career acted as a “guest” or “honorary” member and occasionally joined them for performances as well as official recordings. 

The first year of being together the band did nothing more than small gigs around Paris, primarily at friends’ parties and such, covering classic rock songs and simply having fun without trying to gain any type of success. It wasn’t until Anarka reached out to get the group a bit of recording time in a studio so they could distribute their covers to friends that any of them thought about maybe taking things more seriously. The EP, Kitty Covers, was released in 2014.

Kitty Covers Track List ( x ) :

01. Boulevard of Broken Dreams // 02. Mr. Brightside // 03. Welcome to the Black Parade // 04. Stacy’s Mom // 05. Wanted Dead or Alive // 06. Teenagers

The process of writing their first songs started slow as they found what sound they actually wanted their band to have - rather than just copying what other groups have done before them. It was also during that first year of writing original content that the Couffaines’ father’s identity was revealed to be famous musician Jagged Stone. It wasn’t a huge blindsided surprise to either of the Couffaines, considering they knew that their mother had formally been in a band with the rockstar, but the on and off again relationship the two had shared was news to them and the rest of the world. Being a bit more involved in his kids lives once the truth came out, Jagged helped Kitty Section negotiate a record deal with one of the biggest rock labels in Europe.

And now with a label backing them the band released their first album, Wake Me Up, in 2016. On the album the band released four singles, one of them being Bring Me To Life, a song that had worldwide success and eventually won them a Grammy for best Rock Performance. 

Wake Me Up Track List ( x ) :

01. Rock Show // 02. I Am The Fire // 03. New Modern Love // 04. Boys Wanna Be Her // 05. Taking Over Me // 06. Help I’m Alive // 07. Bring Me To Life // 08. Mz. Hyde // 09. Here’s To Us // 10. Only Happy When It Rains // 11. Night Crawling // 12.  Zombie 

It was with that success that Kitty Section went into creating their second album, The Misery, which released in 2017. For the rollout they released two singles, another one which would earn them a second nomination and win at the Grammys for Best Rock Performance, Love Bites (So Do I). 

The Misery Track List ( x ) :

01. Love Bites (So Do I) // 02. Freak Like Me // 03. Make A Move // 04. Sick Individual // 05. I Miss The Misery // 06. Don’t Know How To Stop // 07. Raise Hell // 08. Daughters of Darkness // 09. Conflicted // 10. Skeletons // 11. My Monsters // 12. Call Me When You’re Sober

The plan had been to release two further singles from that album but before they could officially be announced the band broke up. It was a sudden and shocking end as far as the fans were aware, but the truth was it had been coming for some time. About halfway through recording the second album, Juleka and Rose had broken up, which caused tension to grow amongst all members. The two tried to make it work as long as they can, being in the band together without being together anymore, but eventually it became too much for Rose and she left. Without their lead singer, the remaining members felt it was best to simply disband rather than try to find someone to replace Rose. 

[quickspinner]

I’ll Give You the Stars - Ch 2 Rise to the Challenge

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Out of chaos comes creation. Or at least rock concerts. Still, there was a flow to the madness backstage, an order that defied observation but still worked towards a common goal. Penny somehow located an eddy in the swirl of people where Luka and Marinette could both sit in relative safety and have a clear view of the stage. She had tall stools relocated from somewhere for the two teens to use, and advised them to plant themselves and not move lest they cause some sort of mishap (Luka pretended not to notice that Penny looked at Marinette when she said this). 

While they waited, Luka took the opportunity to text Juleka to make sure she had connected with their bandmates and gotten in okay. He also gave her a brief account of everything that had happened so far and where he was now. Her response made him laugh so hard he nearly fell over. 

“What?” Marinette asked, giggling. 

“I think Jules is a little jealous,” he chuckled, turning his phone towards her so that she could see the stream of exclamation points and emojis Juleka had sent him. 

Marinette laughed with him then, covering her mouth. “Oh, poor thing. But it’ll be easier to bring her in once you’ve got your foot in the door, and I know she knows you wouldn’t forget about her.”

Luka smiled, because she was absolutely right. He teased Juleka for a few more messages before he admitted it to her though. Then he put his phone away.

The opening act was good, blending rock music and classical instruments in a really interesting way. When they left the stage he found himself tapping out a rhythm on his knee as he listened to a new melody unfold in his mind.

He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there staring into space when Marinette nudged him, but when he looked at her she was holding her sketchbook and pencil out to him. She’d turned to a blank page and lined it for him. “I know that look,” she smirked. “Write it down before you lose it.”

“You’re the best,” he said, taking it from her. It was so nice to be with (next to, not with, they weren’t together no matter how comfortable they’d been today) someone who understood, he thought absently as he scribbled his thoughts into the staff she’d drawn for him. The lines weren’t perfect but they were much better than what he could’ve done freehand. 

“Just promise you’ll play it for me later.” She patted his arm and he glanced up with a smile.

“Deal.”

When Jagged Stone took the stage, Luka and Marinette were on their feet instantly. Jagged Stone might be eccentric and impulsive but no one could deny that he was more than a singer, he was an  entertainer . Luka spared a derisive thought for that spiritless, passionless “artist” XY. All his flash and special effects couldn’t rival Jagged Stone’s sheer charisma on stage.  Standing so close, Luka could feel the music all the way down to his bones. It was exhilarating, he loved it, he’d only ever felt this connected when he was playing himself. Conversation was impossible but he caught Marinette’s hand, lacing their fingers together so that his palm pressed hers and he could feel the music through her body as well as his own. He could feel she was cringing slightly, and he glanced at her. She mouthed the word “loud” at him and he could only grin back at her and mouth back “awesome.” She rolled her eyes at him and he turned back to the stage. 

When Jagged took a break, he leaned down to her. “Are you okay? We can find somewhere else to watch if you want.” 

She shook her head. “I know you want to stay here. I can see you’re loving every minute of this.”

“I am, but not if you’re uncomfortable.”

“I’ll be okay. I’m getting used to it.”

Suddenly Penny appeared at their shoulders. “Luka,” she said urgently, “Jagged wants you to play when he goes back on.”

“WHAT?” Luka stared at her, too shocked to be polite. 

“I tried to talk him out of it but he’s stuck on it. He’ll be out there announcing it any minute but I wanted to give you at least a little warning.” Even as she spoke the members of the small backup band were taking their places. Penny put her hand on Luka’s shoulder. “Miraculous is next up in the set list. I told him this was too much pressure but he said you could handle it. He believes in you.”

He felt Marinette's fingers dig into his arm. “Breathe, Luka!” she said urgently and he sucked in a breath, and then another one, too fast. “Are you okay?”

There was a chorus of screams and Luka looked up to see Jagged walking on stage screaming “Rock ‘n roll!”

Luka shot Penny a desperate look but there was no hope of reprieve in her expression. Apparently this was happening and he was going to have to find a way to deal with it. At least he knew Miraculous, it was one of the songs he’d played with Jagged back in the lounge. But he’d never rehearsed with these people before! It took time for a group to gel, you couldn’t just—but  Miraculous  was mostly guitar and vocals with a pretty basic bass and drum line, Jagged was a solo artist after all and his backup would be used to following the lead guitar, but still, he couldn’t seriously expect—

Luka saw Jagged look their way, and then turn back to the microphone, and the singer’s next words made his stomach drop through the floor.

“How about we have us a guest guitarist for this song? We’ve got one of Paris’ own young up and coming talents here with us today, let’s get him out here!”

Despite the warning Luka’s lips parted in surprise and his breath quickened again. He looked at Marinette, who stared back at him with eyes so wide they looked like they might fall out of her head. The crowd cheered mindlessly.

Luka looked back just in time to meet Jagged’s eyes across the stage. “Come on out here, Luka!” the star hollered into the microphone, waving him down.

His brain disconnected from his body.  He was only dimly aware of the pressure of Marinette’s hand on his bicep, the slide of her fingers as he pulled away, the thud of his combat boots on the wood of the stage, the roar of the crowd as he crossed the stage and took with numb hands the guitar that Jagged handed him.  “Whenever you’re ready, kid,” Jagged told him, yelling near his ear to be heard over the massive crowd in the stadium. “Don’t be nervous, show ‘em what you got.”

Don’t be nervous, are you serious? 

Luka put the guitar strap over his head and settled it comfortably, glancing back off stage as he dug in his pocket for a pick. He could just barely see Marinette standing in the wings with her hands over her mouth, eyes still wide as saucers.  He let his eyes skim once over the crowd, taking them in as best he could’ve with the blinding lights, and then he looked down at his feet again. His head shot back up as four voices (which shouldn’t have been nearly loud enough to reach him except that two of them were Ivan and Rose and one was Juleka, who seemed to hoard all her volume for special occasions like these) near the front screamed “KITTY SECTION” in unison and he grinned in their general direction, though he couldn’t see them because of the lights. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, feeling the stage beneath his feet and the energy of the crowd crawling up through his blood. This was insane but...awesome. The thrill of performing began to push back the fear. Oddly enough, even though this was a far bigger crowd than any he’d been in front of before, this was easier than performing one on one for the King of Rock. After all, he smirked, Luka Couffaine had never failed an audience and he would not start that night. He took one more breath, raising his fist to acknowledge the screaming crowd, and then he flipped his pick, placed his fingers on the fretboard, and nodded to Jagged Stone.

The drummer counted them off, Luka began to play...and he killed it. If this was his fifteen minutes of fame he would die happy. The crowd was roaring, Jagged’s energy was contagious, and it was the best Luka had played in his life.

Luka walked off the stage in a euphoric haze, barely aware of Marinette as she took his arm and guided him back to the lounge and sat him down on the couch. 

“Did that seriously just happen?” Luka asked her, putting his face in his hands. “Did I really just do that.”  He drew his hands down his face until they were just in front of his mouth as he stared at nothing. “Man, what a rush.”

Marinette let out a little squeal, wrapping both hands around his upper arm and bouncing in place. “Luka, that was awesome!!  You just played LIVE with JAGGED STONE and I can’t believe you just did that either, I would have DIED! I swear, I had no idea he was going to call you up there. He must have been so impressed with you.” She squealed again and threw her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him in a quick hug before leaning back again to clap her hands and bounce some more. 

The adrenaline was doing weird things to his body and she was doing weird things to his heart. Luka caught her face in his hands, cupping under her jaw, and had just enough self-control left to plant his kiss on her cheek and not her mouth. “You’re amazing, Marinette,” he whispered, face still pressed to hers. “Thank you so much.”

“All I did was introduce you,” she said, blushing hard. Her fingertips came to rest shyly on his wrists. “The rest of it was all you.” 

He grinned, kissed her cheek again and let her go. “Amazing,” he repeated, pulling his frantically vibrating phone out of his pocket to turn it off. 

“You’re the one who’s amazing,” Marinette insisted, recovering some of her composure. “You went out there with no warning and no rehearsal and you didn’t even look scared!”

Luka laughed breathlessly. “Terrified is more like it.”

“It didn’t show. You walked out on that stage like you owned it.” Marinette’s eyes shone and he was pretty sure if his heart beat any faster he would keel over and die. “You’re so brave, Luka!”

“Tell that to my hands,” he muttered, raising them to show her how they shook. “And I’m pretty sure I couldn’t stand right now if my life depended on it.” 

Marinette took his hand and laced her fingers through his. “That’s just the adrenaline reaction. That was a huge amount of pressure Luka and you pulled it off!” 

Luka let his head drop and closed his eyes, trying to focus on breathing, on trying to slow his heart and calm the blood still singing in his veins to the beat of Jagged’s music that they could still hear, even back here.  Marinette freed her hand from his and he felt her move away, but she was back moments later, pressing a cold bottle of water into his hands. He took it gratefully and threw his head back to drink it. He managed to keep himself from chugging, knowing that it would make him sick, and pressed the cool bottle to his forehead, focusing on the cold and the crinkle of the plastic in his fingers. 

When he looked back at Marinette she was staring at him with a slightly glazed expression and a healthy blush that did dangerous things to him.  Her blush darkened as he stared back at her, and—look away, look away now. Tearing his gaze away felt like ripping out his own heart.

Luka always felt high after performing but this was a whole other level of intensity. He really needed to be somewhere else—anywhere that was not alone with Marinette in a closed room while she was looking at him like that.

“I’m okay now,” he said roughly, standing and pulling her up with him. “Let’s go watch the rest of the show.” She squeaked as he threaded his fingers through hers and they made their way back to their place in the wings. 

The only thing he remembered from the rest of the show was the feel of their hands locked together.

He was still in some weird fugue state as they said goodbye to Penny and she let them out of the security door into the night. Luka’s phone was still off but Marinette had been texting to Rose, and she guided him to the rest of the group. 

As soon as he spotted them Luka broke into a run, catching up Juleka and swinging her around while she pounded his back. Rose threw herself on them both, and they were only saved from topping over by Marinette hitting them from the other side. Ivan wrapped his arms as far as he could around the whole group and nearly lifted them all off of the ground. 

“Okay, okay,” Luka laughed from the center of the pile. “You guys are crushing me here!”

They all peeled away, giggling, and Luka threw an arm each around Juleka and Marinette. “You guys are seriously the best, I mean it,” he said, addressing the whole group. “It was huge, knowing you were out there.”

“Oh, Luka, this is so exciting!” Rose squealed. “You’ll be famous and you’ll get to go on tour and see so many exciting places and meet so many wonderful new people and—“

“Whoa, whoa, slow down, Rose,” Luka laughed. “Let’s hold off on planning the world tour, okay?”

“You really were great,” Mylène said from where she was hanging back, clinging onto Ivan’s shirt tail. She looked a little shy, being the outsider of the group. Luka smiled at her.

“Thanks Mylène. I thought I was going to die once I got off that stage.”

“Did Marinette give you CPR?” Juleka mumbled beside him, and he immediately shifted his arm until he had her in a headlock. 

“Somebody better watch her mouth if she wants to meet Jagged Stone anytime soon,” he grumbled, and then immediately released Juleka when he felt her perfectly manicured nails digging threateningly into his arm. “Okay, okay, not the claws, ow!” He knocked into Marinette in his haste to get away from his sister, and only just managed to twist and catch her around the waist before they both tipped over. 

“You better come back to earth before someone gets hurt,” Ivan chuckled. “You’re seriously wired, Luka.”

“Sorry, Marinette.” Luka made sure she was steady and then drew away, hoping he wasn’t too red. He’d been kind of all over her all day, he knew, and while she was an affectionate person and hadn’t seemed to mind, he’d better get his act together. 

Fortunately Mylène diverted her attention just then with a question he didn’t quite catch and he had a moment to get ahold of himself. Luka stepped slightly away from the group, digging in his pocket for his pick, aware that Juleka immediately moved to block him slightly so he could have a little space.

When he’d calmed himself down a bit, he returned to the group, flashing a quick smile at Juleka. “Lila?” Marinette was saying, in a tone that surprised Luka. “No, we didn’t see her, why?”

Mylène shrugged. “We invited her to come with us, but she said Jagged had already called her and offered to let her watch the show from backstage. Since you were back there too I thought you would have seen her, but I guess it’s pretty crazy backstage.”

Marinette was clearly trying to keep a neutral face, but Luka could sense something negative going on with her. Her voice sounded all kinds of wrong to him, though all she said was, “It was pretty chaotic.”

“Weird, though,” Luka said with a shrug. “I mean there wasn’t all that much room on the sides, and we didn’t see anybody in the lounge before the show. You’d think Jagged would’ve said something if one of your classmates was there.”

There was gratitude he didn’t quite understand in Marinette’s eyes when she looked up at him, but he smiled back at her reassuringly.

“Guys, it’s been awesome, but we gotta go if we’re gonna be home by curfew.” Ivan put his arm around Mylène. 

“You’re staying with Rose tonight, right?” Luka asked Juleka, who nodded. “Text me when you get there, okay?” Juleka just gave him a deadpan stare, but Rose winked and nodded. He turned to Marinette. “Can I walk you home?”

“Oh, you don’t need to, I can take care of myself, it’s fine!”

“I know,” Luka smiled down at her as the others began to walk off. “Can I walk you home anyway?”

Marinette blushed prettily. “Sure.”

As soon as they got to the main sidewalk they were caught in the rest of the crowd leaving the venue. After seeing the petite girl nearly get knocked down twice, Luka pulled Marinette in front of him where he could shield her at least a little bit, keeping his hand on her shoulder.

“Sorry,” he muttered in her ear, pulling her a little closer to him. “I’m afraid you’ll get crushed if I let you go.” He steadied her as somebody knocked into them again. “Let’s walk down to the next metro station instead, it should be less crowded there.” Luka kept his head down, hoping no one would recognize him as the guy who’d been called on stage, but no one seemed to be thinking about anything other than getting ahead. 

Things did clear out considerably once they were passed the closest stop, and they both breathed a sigh of relief once the crowd had eased. Just as Luka thought they were free and clear, they passed under the light of a street lamp and suddenly he heard a chorus of “Luka!” from across the street. As soon as he looked in that direction he heard a squeal and a small cluster of people came running across the street, giggling as they stopped in front of him. 

“It is you, I knew it!” one of them practically cooed, reaching out to twirl one of his blue tips. Luka took a step back, automatically shifting his arm back to move Marinette behind him.

“Sorry, have we met?” he asked, glancing across the group of four girls. They looked close to his age, but he didn’t recognize any of them.

“We saw you on stage,” another one giggled. 

Ah, now he understood. He relaxed and smiled back at them. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed the show.”

“You were awesome,” gushed the girl who had touched him. “Could you sign my program?” 

Luka blinked. “Sure,” he said, taking the booklet and sharpie she shoved at him. “Thanks for your support. What’s your name?”

“Veronique!” 

“That’s pretty.” He smiled at her and signed her program and then the ones the other two passed him.

The last girl, who looked a little older than the others, pouted and opened her eyes wide. “Gosh, I must have lost mine. I don’t have anything for you to sign. Hmmm...” she pressed a finger to her lips thoughtfully. Luka had a feeling he knew where this was going and he was not about to let it get there. Instead he smirked, took her hand and turned it up, and signed the inside of the girl’s wrist. She glanced up at him from beneath her lashes. “Can I get a phone number to go with it?”

“Ah, I’m keeping that top secret for now.” Luka winked. “But you can follow our band, Kitty Section, on Instagram.” He wrote their handle under his name and released her, stepping back. He reached blindly behind him and felt Marinette take his hand. “You ladies have a good night. I’m afraid I have somewhere to be, but I hope we’ll see you at Kitty Section’s next show.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, just waved and pulled Marinette down the sidewalk. “Well that was embarrassing,” Luka muttered, running his free hand through his hair. 

“The price of fame?” Marinette suggested, but her smile looked forced. 

“At least it was good publicity for the band,” sighed Luka. “They seemed harmless enough, except the one girl. She didn’t really have a creepy stalker vibe, at least.”

“You didn’t seem to mind,” Marinette replied stiffly, and Luka snorted.

“I’ve been playing in bands since I was thirteen, Marinette, mostly with guys older than me, and I’ve picked up a thing or two about how to deal with fans. Although it’s unsettling to be the focus.” He snickered. “Trust me, when it happens to someone else it’s hilarious. The second band I played with, the lead singer was seventeen and gorgeous, and watching him trying to play up his girl fans without getting molested was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.” He glanced at her and smiled to himself as she relaxed. “Besides, I knew you were there to rescue me,” he teased, squeezing her hand. “You always come up with something.” 

“Or maybe I would have left you there. I’m beginning to think you’re as bad a flirt as Chat Noir.”

Luka laughed heartily as they went down the metro steps. “I am so much smoother than Chat Noir. I mean, I have nothing but respect for the guy and what he does for the city, but he flirts like he learned all his lines from bad romcoms.”

“I didn’t realize you were such an expert,” Marinette sniffed as they reached the platform, pulling her hand away and folding her arms.

Luka stepped close to her, and then leaned in just a little. “Marinette. Are you going to make me say it? Again?”

She turned a highly satisfying shade of red. “N-now that I know you’re such a master flirt,” she stammered, “Maybe I shouldn’t believe anything you say.”

“Do you know what the difference is between good flirting and bad flirting really is?” He leaned the tiniest bit closer, and lightly tapped the guitar pick around her neck. “Sincerity. I meant every word I said to those girls, and every word I’ve ever said to you.”

She made a strangled, inarticulate noise, and he straightened, not even bothering to hide his smile. He stood next to her on the platform, and shoved his hands in his pockets, waiting for Marinette to regain her power of speech.

As they stood there, Luka remembered their earlier conversation, and glanced sidelong at Marinette. “So...who’s Lila?”

Marinette’s face twisted in distaste.

“Wow, that bad, huh?”

Marinette flushed. “No, I mean, well, she’s...uh…”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he told her. “But you don’t have to pretend, you’re allowed not to like someone. It doesn’t make you a bad person.”

“Popular opinion is against you on that one,” Marinette grumbled, and then she hesitated. “And...she’s Juleka’s friend…”

Luka smiled, and bumped his arm lightly against hers. “I’m not Juleka.”

Marinette sighed, and chewed her lip for a moment, and then her shoulders slumped and she gave him a tired smile. “Honestly, she’s a liar and a manipulator and I don’t really want to ruin this night talking about her. Some other time, okay?”

“Sure,” he said softly, motioning her ahead of him to board the train. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier but you look really cute tonight,” Luka said as they settled in seats. 

Marinette made a face. “Jagged called me a punk wanna be.” 

Luka chuckled. “I think it’s perfect. It’s fun and still totally you. You should’ve called Juleka and let us do your hair, you’d have been adorable with pink tips.” He reached out and flicked her bangs.

Marinette giggled. “Maybe next time.” 

“That’s a cool bag.” 

Marinette brightened as she lifted it from her lap. “It’s hand embroidered! My Nonna Gina travels all over the world, and she brought me a shirt back from her last trip for my birthday, only it kinda didn’t fit, so I used it to make this! It doesn’t match my outfit but it’s bigger than my other one so I can fit my smaller sketchbook in it. Oh, I wish you could meet her, you’d love her. She wears a motorcycle and rides a leather jacket and—“ she stopped with a blush and a giggle, realizing she was rambling. “Anyway. She’s really cool.” 

“I’d love to meet her sometime,” Luka chuckled. He folded his hands together and leaned forward a little to rest his elbows on his knees.

The weight of the day was finally starting to settle on him. He came to the unsettling realization hat he no longer knew what tomorrow would look like. Marinette has opened this incredible door for him and now he had to figure out how to walk through and keep going—and he wasn’t even sure who would be with him as he did so. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. 

“Luka?” Marinette leaned into him a little, trying to see his face.

“I’m okay. It’s just...kind of all hitting me at once.” 

“Can I help?” Her fingers curled around his upper arm.

“There’s nothing wrong, it’s just...a lot. This whole thing has been like a dream,” he confessed. “It still doesn’t seem real. And I’m not really sure how I’m feeling, to be honest. It’s...scary, the idea that this big dream you have could actually happen, and…is it completely weird and ungrateful not to be sure that you want it? Or maybe I’m just scared of getting so close and then crashing and burning.”

Marinette squeezed his arm. “No, I think that’s totally natural. It’s easy to overlook all the downsides when it’s just a dream. You got a taste of the reality today, some of the bad along with the good, and it’ll probably be worse tomorrow when everyone sees it online or on the news or wherever. And I think that crashing and burning at the worst possible moment is something that every artist fears.”

“You’re an artist, Marinette.”

Her smile was sad. “And I’m a mess. I doubt myself all the time. How could I not, I’m such a disaster. Half the time I can’t even speak clearly. But then, there are moments...well, you remember Adrien, right? His dad is a super famous fashion designer, one of my idols. He sponsored a design contest at my school, and someone copied my design. So I had to stand there and defend my work to the Gabriel Agreste.” She shook her head, eyes going misty. “I killed it, Luka. I was clear and calm and I destroyed Chl-uh, the copycat designer and I won the competition. And those are the moments where I really believe it can happen. Just like when you were up on that stage today. You could have refused to go out there. You could have tried and choked. But you didn’t.” she squeezed his arm again. “You went out there and you slayed that crowd, and you loved every minute of it.”

Luka’s eyes were on his feet but a slow smile spread over his face. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I really did.”

“So hold onto that,” Marinette told him, and he lifted his gaze to hers, a tight feeling in his chest. “If this is what you want, you can totally do it. And if it turns out that it’s not what you want, that’s okay too. I didn't introduce you to Jagged to make you miserable. This is your dream, you get to decide what it looks like.”

What if it looks like you? he thought, mesmerized by her eyes, her earnestness, her kindness, and those perfect pink lips. It just wasn’t fair for her to have such a sweet little mouth. 

Marinette stood up quickly. “Oops, this is our stop.”

He spent the rest of the walk out of the metro and up to the bakery trying to talk sense into himself. Sure, she liked him, but she wanted someone else, and yeah, she wasn’t dating Adrien yet, but she didn’t want to date Luka either, and he’d be putting her in a tough spot but he wanted it so badly, and he liked her and she liked him and couldn’t that be good enough for just one minute, it wasn’t like he was proposing marriage—

He opened the side door of the bakery for her and followed her into the relative privacy of the stairwell, still balanced on a knife edge of indecision.

Then she smiled at him. “Thanks for walking me home, Luka.”

Screw it.

“Marinette, can I kiss you?” he asked. 

Marinette squeaked, blue eyes wide. 

“Listen, I know you’re not ready for anything to change between us,” he continued quickly, “and you might not ever be, and I’m cool with that, I really am. And you can say yes or you can say no and either way it won’t change a thing. I know I’m being selfish asking, but I’m feeling so much after everything today, and I just…” He swallowed, “I just really really want to,” he finished huskily. His whole being hummed with tension. He was too much, he was too intense, he was completely going to freak her out but he couldn’t look away. He reached out to grip the stair rail beside her because he needed to feel the cool metal and the way the edges cut into his palm, but he made sure not to lean into her space, leaving her plenty of room to get away from him if she was uncomfortable. 

And then she was looking at him with those soft eyes, the ones that sang to him of “really?” and “why me?” and that heart-stopping “maybe…”

“Okay,” she said quietly, cheeks perfectly pink and shoulders slightly hunched, but smiling. 

“You sure?” he couldn’t help asking as he brushed his thumb against the perfect bow of her lips, a thrill skittering through him when she didn’t pull away, only nodded shyly. 

He leaned down and kissed her, eyes closing as soon as he felt her plush lips under his. He kept it soft and slow, breath catching slightly when she curled her fingers in his shirt and kissed him back, following his lead easily. His free hand came up to rest against her neck, and Luka felt her shiver at the feel of his fingertips stroking lightly at her nape, his thumb just brushing her jaw. He guided her a little deeper, still slow, still tender and innocent. He was a little shocked at how good it felt. He’d kissed girls before and never really thought it was a big deal, but this…I am in so much trouble. Even caught up in her he could hear the music they made in the mingling of breath, the meeting and parting and meeting again of lips, the flutter of her pulse against his palm. He lingered, lips moving over hers until he felt her begin to pull away, and then straightened with a sigh, stroking her cheek once as he let his hand fall away.

“Wow,” she touched her lips. “Now that...that was a first kiss worth remembering.”

“Yeah,” Luka cleared his throat. “That was...really, really nice.” He raised his eyebrows slightly. “First kiss with me, or…”

Marinette blushed and looked at her feet. “First kiss at all. Um, sort of. It’s complicated? But, yes, if someone asked me about my first kiss, it would definitely be that.”

“I’m honored.” Luka took her hand, cradling it loosely in his, and waited until she looked back up at him. “Thank you for everything today, Marinette. I just...there’s no other words. Thank you.”

The smile she gave him was so full of affection that it hurt. “You deserve it, Luka. You’ve always been so supportive and so good to me, and—well, I’m happy I could do something for you.”

He smiled, and uncurled his white-knuckle grip on the stair rail to back towards the door, her hand sliding out of his as he moved away. “Goodnight Marinette.”

“Goodnight Luka.”

He had to lean against the wall for a moment once he was back outside.

[lovejustforaday]

My Top 10 Albums of 2019

Rose Gold - Kitty

Main Genres: Electro Pop

A decent sampling of: Chill Hop, Chill Wave, Alternative R&B, Cloud Rap, Future Bass, Synth Pop, Trip Hop, Wonky Kitty's sound keeps changing from EP to LP, but one thing that remains constant is her witty, hyper-feminine cool girl persona. On "Rose Gold", she explores a variety of electronic genres while maintaining a near-perfect chill mood and atmosphere. "Rose Gold" easily avoids falling into the traps of repetitiveness prone to a lot of lo-fi chill music thanks to Kitty's charming personality and clever lyricism on tracks like "B.O.M.B. (Peter)" and "Florida". I feel like this is definitely a late night album, one you might listen to while sneaking around your kitchen to make a late night snack while wearing your cutest pajamas. Alternatively, this is the album your stuffed animals all get up and vibe to while you're sleeping. Oh yeah, and "Counting All The Starfish" samples FF7 which is pretty cool. Highlights: "B.O.M.B. (Peter)", “Don’t Panic (Interlude)”, "Mami", "Counting All The Starfish", “Disconnect”

8/10

House of Sugar - Sandy (Alex G)

Main Genres: Indie Folk, Neo-Psychedelia

A decent sampling of: Folktronica, Psychedelic Folk, Indie Pop, Americana I admit, I was completely unfamiliar with Alex G's material until this album came along and garnered a lot of attention. I'm very excited to explore his back catalogue now thanks to this album. Fitting to its name, "House of Sugar" is somewhat like a psychedelic sugar rush, feeling at once strange and whimsical yet also sickly sweet and delirious. Under the album's upbeat folky veneer lies darker themes about loss both personal and conceptual. "Gretel" and the album title itself are both inspired by the fairytale of Hansel and Gretel, which makes a lot of sense because I really just want to get lost in the woods while listening to this album. "Project 2" is a noticeable outlier and the weakest track, forgoing conventional song structure completely for experimental synth music yielding mixed results, but even this short track manages to be oddly beautiful and adds to the overall experience. Likewise, "House of Sugar" is an exceptionally interesting musical journey even at its weakest. Highlights: "Gretel", "Sugar", "Hope", "Walk Away", "Taking"

8/10

Titanic Rising - Weyes Blood

Main Genres: Art Pop, Baroque Pop

A decent sampling of: Progressive Pop, Psychedelic Pop, Soft Rock, Progressive Electronic, Alternative Country Most acclaimed album of 2019? Quite possibly. While it's not my top choice of the year, I can definitely understand the widespread praise this album has received. At its best, Weyes Blood's "Titanic Rising" is a truly lush and cinematic experience, incorporating musical influences from the best of 60s and 70s era pop music with a moving lyrical narrative of coming to terms with depression and getting older. Mering's voice is warm and tender, and her insights about generational woes on tracks like "Everyday" and "Something to Believe" are mature and nuanced. If you're new to being an adult like I am, and you find the prospects of trying to build a fulfilling and meaningful life in the kind of world we live in scary, then listening to "Titanic Rising" will feel like a very bittersweet soundtrack written for a movie based on your own real life. Considerably front-loaded, but the concept for this album is very fresh and ambitious, and when it's good, it's brilliant. P.S. definitely the best album cover of 2019 Highlights: "Everyday", "Movies", "Andromeda", "Titanic Rising", "A Lot's Gonna Change"

8/10

Grey Area - Little Simz

Main Genres: Conscious Rap, UK Rap

A decent sampling of: Jazz Rap, Hardcore Rap

Little Simz sounds like she knows exactly who she is and what she's doing on "Grey Area", like she has her flow and writing lyrics down to a science. The album really feels like seeing the world through her eyes, and Simz holds nothing back, talking about everything from institutional racism and violence, to things like therapy, motherhood, and even video games. "Grey Area" succeeds as well as it does largely thanks to the strengths of Simz's offbeat personality, lyrical insights, and excellent delivery, while the production on the album is mostly smooth and slick in a way that never overpowers her as the main focus. I'll admit, I find at some points that the production on some of the songs falls considerably short of the standards set by Simz's own talent as a rapper, but when the production does reach that level on tracks like "101 FM" and "Venom", the pay off is brilliant. "101 FM" in particular is such an interesting and unique hip hop song, in the same way that Simz is a very interesting and unique rapper. Honestly this album is worth the listen alone just to hear what Little Simz has to say about everything.

Highlights: "101 FM", "Selfish", "Offence", "Venom"

8/10

Pang - Caroline Polachek

Main Genres: Art Pop, Alternative R&B

A decent sampling of: Electro Pop, Glitch Pop, Ambient Pop, New Age, Downtempo Of all the albums I've listened to this year, "Pang" feels like the most varied journey with an impressive collection of 14 songs in under 50 minutes. On this LP, Caroline Polachek takes the listener through her world of romantic fairytales and magic. Some of the songs are poppy bangers like the funky "So Hot You're Hurting My Feelings" and the rhythmic "Ocean of Tears", while other songs are more mood-driven and meditative like "Parachute" and "Insomnia". Many of the songs place emphasis on the vocal gymnastics of Polachek herself, who makes great use of her range and techniques like heavy breaths on "So Hot You're Hurting My Feelings". The production work of Polachek and Danny L. Harle is sophisticated and intricate, with a lot of attention to detail on tracks like "Door" and "Pang". A lot of the songs are  mysterious and cerebral, especially the penultimate "Door" which has an equally cerebral and trippy music video. Overall, I'd say that "Pang" definitely opens and closes with its strongest few tracks, but there’s enough variety and intricacies throughout its entirety to make the album experience highly engaging on repeated listens as you explore the different musical worlds that each song has to offer.

Highlights: "Door", " So Hot You're Hurting My Feelings ", “Parachute”, "Pang", "Go As a Dream", "Ocean of Tears", “Hit Me Where It Hurts”, "The Gate"

9/10

Norman Fucking Rockwell! - Lana Del Rey

Main Genres: Art Pop, Soft Rock

A decent sampling of: Dream Pop, Chamber Pop, Contemporary Folk, Psychedelic Pop, Piano Rock, Blues Rock, Americana, Pop Soul So yeah, this album happened. Lana Del Rey has always been an artist I appreciated for her unique sound and persona, but I found that her 2012 LP "Born To Die" mostly didn't quite live up to her potential as an artist, and I never really bothered with the rest of her work apart from individual songs until now. I'm so glad I checked this one out because "Norman Fucking Rockwell!" rightfully deserves the wave of acclaim it has received this year. Lana Del Rey's songwriting has become so sophisticated on this LP, and the warm, rich soft rock sound that she's adopted on tracks like "The greatest" compliments her vocals better than any other genre she's explored so far. Like most of her work, "Norman Fucking Rockwell!" explores American identity and femininity, and the songs are tinged with sadness and nostalgia. That being said, I actually find parts of this album very uplifting, especially on "Love Song" and "Mariners Apartment Complex". "Venice Bitch" is, simply put, a true masterpiece. It's the reason I checked out the album when I heard the single last year, and it damn near blows everything else out of the water with its gorgeous soundscapes and 9 minute length that could go on for an eternity if it wanted to. Regardless, there's a lot of songs here that I love, even if the LP is a little front-loaded. Lana has outdone herself this time with "Norman Fucking Rockwell!", and I already look forward to the projects she's announced for 2020. In the meantime, I should check out the LPs that I missed in her discography. Highlights: "Venice Bitch", "The greatest", "Mariners Apartment Complex", "How to disappear", "Cinnamon Girl", "Love song", "Norman fucking Rockwell"

9/10

Keepsake - Hatchie

Main Genres: Dream Pop, Indie Pop

A decent sampling of: Shoegaze, Synth Pop, Twee Pop, Jangle Pop

This album pretty clearly derives a lot of its sound from a particular era of early 90s dream pop, shoegaze, and jangle pop. So what makes "Keepsake" so special? For one, Hatchie knows her sound niche and does it incredibly well. Songs like "Stay With Me" and "Kiss The Stars" feel like lost gems from an era when they could've been heard on college radios in between the Cocteau Twins, MBV, and the Cranberries. While her sonic timbre is pure retro, Hatchie's own take on classic dream pop from a songwriting perspective is fresh and unique. Her lyrics and melodies are pure and saccharine in a way that reminds me of feel-good teen romcoms about sappy high school romances, only I mean that in the best way possible. Songs like "Without A Blush" and "Secret" feel like what I thought falling in love was gonna be like when I was 11 years old. "Stay With Me" is a rush of euphoria, and the song feels like prom again whenever I listen to it. Her pop songwriting sensibilities are well-crafted in a way that makes it look like she's been doing this for years and years, when really Hatchie only started putting out her own music in 2017. The sequencing of the tracks is well thought out, and I find "Keepsake" is at its strongest in the middle portion. There's just a certain essence of carefree youth and sentimentality that Hatchie has captured so vividly with this album. If you're looking to recapture the feeling of your best memories as a teenager, "Keepsake" will take you there. Strongest debut LP of the year, and I super look forward to whatever she does next. Highlights: "Stay With Me", "Secret", "Her Own Heart" "Kiss The Stars", "Without A Blush", "Unwanted Guest"

9/10

Djinn - Lingua Nada

Main Genres: Indie Rock, Psychedelic Rock, Noise Rock

A decent sampling of: Noise Pop, Progressive Rock, Math Rock, Neo-Psychedelia, Indietronica, Experimental Rock

Lingua Nada is that one really cool indie band that only I and a few others seem to know about. The band has a very distinct and creative sound which combines explosive noise with jerky, whacky rhythms and upbeat melodies. Last year's "Snuff" was a very raw and experimental album experience, and another year-end favourite of mine. This year's "Djinn" boasts slightly more conventional song structures, but the sonic timbres and rhythms are just as strange and beautiful, if not more. As its name would suggest, "Djinn" is partly inspired by Arabian folklore and evokes a sort of mysterious, ghostly presence on songs like the title track and "Salam Cyber". The mix of noise, acid-y psychedelics, and complex rhythms on "Habiba" and "Dweeb Weed" results in alien, otherworldly sounds. "These Hands Are Royal" is a very evocative track as well, with its propulsive beat and dusty guitar riffs giving me the distinct imagery of travelling a desert by foot. Lingua Nada never overwhelms the listener with their explosive songs on "Djinn", and the band takes time to mellow out a bit towards the end of the album with the bubbly, psychedelic indietronica bop "Yalla Yalla" and the minimalist folk tune "In Limbo". Lead vocalist Adam Lenox is buried pretty deep in the mix of guitars, and I wouldn't exactly say he has the strongest presence as a vocalist, but I can't say that this takes away much of the appeal because "Djinn" is clearly meant to be a more impressionistic experience. Lingua Nada have come out of the past two years with a strong 1-2 punch of innovative noise rock albums, and with "Djinn" they've proven themselves to be one of the most daring and multi-talented rock bands of the decade.

Highlights: "Habiba", "These Hands Are Royal", "Djinn", "Salam Cyber", "Yalla Yalla", "Proto", "Gucci Mecca"

9/10

Ginger - Brockhampton

Main Genres: Pop Rap, Contemporary R&B, West Coast Rap

A decent sampling of: Alternative R&B, Emo Rap, Conscious Rap, Indie Pop

This album feels like it's all about growth. Brockhampton have undergone a lot of changes as a band since they first blew up in 2017 between sudden fame, signing a major label, and kicking Ameer for his toxic behaviour. Last year's "Iridescence" felt like a raw, anguished, and messy response to the sudden changes the band had to cope with. Now it's 2019 and we have "Ginger", a more lowkey and sometimes deeply sad album, where members of Brockhampton are still processing many of the same problems. This time, however, the album is far more consistent, more nuanced, and overall, masterfully crafted. There's a lot of talk of male identity and what it means to be a man on "Ginger", and some of the traits brought up are moral integrity, honesty, and vulnerability, all which are part of emotional maturity and subvert machismo gender expectations. True to its album cover, "Ginger" is like a big hug for young guys struggling with depression, but anybody can get something out of this brilliant piece of art. The highlights are many: Joba's verse on "BIG BOY", Kevin's verse on "BOY BYE", and Matt's verse on "NO HALO" just to name a few. But the defining moment of "Ginger" is Dom's takedown of Ameer at the end of "DEARLY DEPARTED", a brilliant 66 seconds of anger, remorse, pain, and condemnation.  Guest rapper Victor Roberts rapping about his traumatic childhood experience with the police on album closer "VICTOR ROBERTS" is also a key highlight, and serves as a fitting note to end an album that so forwardly tackles depression and coping with traumatic life changes. The production is fantastic, from the effortlessly cool R&B jam "SUGAR" to weirder tracks like the off-kilter "IF YOU PRAY RIGHT" which is built around a cartoonish trombone riff. I simply can't praise this album enough. Brockhampton have matured as artists, and "Ginger" will go on to prove their legacy as one of the best rap groups of the 2010s. Highlights: "DEARLY DEPARTED", "NO HALO", "SUGAR", "GINGER", "BOY BYE", "VICTOR ROBERTS", "IF YOU PRAY RIGHT", "BIG BOY", “ST. PERCY”

10/10

Magdalene - FKA Twigs

Main Genres: Art Pop, Glitch Pop

A decent sampling of: Progressive Pop, Ambient Pop, Alternative R&B, Post-Industrial

It's hard to describe what makes this album so brilliant because it's so subtle. "MAGDALENE" slowly unravels to reveal its beauty, in the same way that a flower slowly blooms, petal by petal. Likewise, FKA Twigs slowly strips away all of her defenses, track by track, to reveal the heart of a wounded lover. "MAGDALENE" is all about the breakup of Twigs' highly publicized relationship with Robert Pattinson. The lyrics explore her lover's emotional distance on "home with you", her feelings of inadequacy after being thrust into the broader public eye on "cellophane", her lover's lies on "fallen alien", and the physical pain she endured undergoing fibroid surgery that rendered her feeling weak on "daybed". Like the rest of her work, many of the songs on "MAGDALENE" juxtapose the unnerving with the beautiful, with tracks like "mirrored heart" and "fallen alien" alternating between ethereal vocals backed by piano and glitchy, spine-tingling production that evokes earthquakes and mirrors shattering into hundreds of pieces. There's also a lot of empty space on this album, and a general appreciation for minimalism. Tracks like "mary magdalene" and "cellophane" are made stronger by allowing enough room for Twigs' vocals to carry the music, and boy does she ever. Twigs breathes, moans, cries, screams, whispers, and commands with her voice to utter perfection throughout. The vocal highlights are all over "MAGDALENE", but my absolute favourites include the last line of "home with you", the dark incantations of the verses on "fallen alien", and the withering refrain after the beat-drop on "cellophane". "cellophane" is the centerpiece of "MAGDALENE" and the perfect closer, like listening to the music of a dying flower as it slowly wilts away. Overall, "MAGDALENE" is a stunning piece of art. Twigs has reclaimed her pain on this album by turning one of the lowest points in her life into the most beautiful album of the year. Highlights: "cellophane", "home with you", "fallen alien", "mary magdalene", "daybed", "sad day", "mirrored heart", "thousand eyes"

10/10

[gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights]

Rating: T

Chapter Summary:  XY goes to patch things up, but he needs some advice first.

Word Count:  3401 | Chapter 4/5

Notes:  Sorry the chapter count keeps getting longer.  I decided to add an epilogue, but this is the last main chapter.  For @luxyweek​ day 6, Serenade

XXX

Luka flopped back in his bed.  Had he been too harsh on XY back at the hotel?  It wasn’t like XY had stood him up.  He’d never promised to come back to the Liberty.

But questions kept repeating like an irritatingly catchy melody.  XY had always wanted to spend time with him before, even if it was just to annoy him.  What changed?  Had they gotten too close at Nino’s house that night?  Had their accidental cuddling scared him off?

Maybe he really just read too much into things.  It wasn’t like Luka had much experience understanding people, even with his guitar.  Maybe XY didn’t have any music in heart.  Luka could’ve just been seeing what he wanted to see.

He wanted to see good in XY.  The only one he had to blame was himself, for believing the other boy might have actually cared about him.

I’m just a sucker for blue eyes, he thought, his fingers plucking a melancholy melody.

It didn’t matter.  He didn’t have XY’s number—foolishly, he’d only given the other boy his own—and he wasn’t about to embarrass himself by going back to the hotel again.

For the first time in months, the music in his heart fell silent.

XXX

“Martini!  Marmalade!  Marinade!  Mar—whatever your name is!  Help a homie out, please!”  XY called up at the bakery’s balcony. He was going out on a limb here, but for whatever reason, Luka had been obsessed with the younger girl.  Maybe she could help him patch things back up.

“You’re not my homie, XY!”  She leaned over the railing and shouted back down at the street.  “And it’s midnight!  What the heck are you doing here?”

“I need your help!”  he said.  Admitting it made him feel stupid, but what was he supposed to do?  Show up to Luka’s boat empty handed?  No, XY had promised he’d make the most cash money music ever, impress Luka so hard that he fell head over heels, and then whisk him off into the sunset.

But step one: make the music.  His first song had been a bust, and Luka would know if XY ripped something off.  He’d probably expect it.  So XY had his smaller synth packed up in a bag over his back, ready to take some more inspiration from Marmalade as soon as he could.

“Go away!”  she called.

“You can’t tell me what to—!  Uh, I mean—please, it’s important!”

She sighed so loudly he could hear it from the ground.  Then she stomped back inside.

His shoulders fell.  Of course she wouldn’t help him after he’d stolen her designs, poked through her room, and forgotten her name.  He turned to trudge back to the hotel, his backpack feeling heavier than ever.

The click of a door opening stopped him.  “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Uh—oh!  You—you’re gonna help me?”

“That depends”—Martini crossed her arms—“on what exactly you want help with.”

“Perspiration,” he answered quickly, and she glared.  Oops.  Was that the wrong word again?

“Is this some kind of prank?  What, was ghosting Luka not enough for you?”

XY’s jaw dropped.  “Ghosting—I did not ghost him!”

“Then why did Juleka tell me he’s been sulking for the last week?  She says he won’t quit playing sad songs.  And Wonderwall, for some reason.  Anyway, she thinks it’s your fault, and even if I’m not in love with Luka, I am his friend.  And you hurt him.”

She jabbed a finger at his chest, hitting his “XY” necklace.  The chain clinked hollowly.

“I… he missed me?  Really?”  He’d joked with Luka about that when he came to the hotel today, but he didn’t think he meant it.  

“I don’t know.  It sounds like it.”  She shook her head, her pigtails swishing around her neck.  “I don’t know why, though.  Anyway, what do you want?  I was waiting on someone—er, I’m supposed to be in bed soon.”

“Ooooh, a late-night date?”

“XY.”  

“Sorry, sorry.”  He grimaced.  Better not get even more on her bad side when he needed something from her.  “Okay, here’s the deal.  I told Lu I was gonna make him the most cash money music he’s ever heard.  But… I suck.”

He sighed.  There it was.

“I know he likes you,” he continued, “so I thought maybe you could give me some tips?  Tell me what kind of vibes he’ll vibe with, that kind of stuff.”

Marinade blinked at him.  “You’re…. trying to make Luka a song?”

“Yeah.  I wasted a whole week on a track Dad said was trash, and now Lu’s mad and I don’t have anything to show for it.”  His shoulders slumped.

“Wait, so you already made a song?  That’s why you weren’t talking to Luka last week?”

“Duh.  I couldn’t spoil the surprise.  Not that it matters.  Like I said, it’s garbage.  Unsexy.  Not vibin’ at all.”

“...Because your dad said so?”  Her head tilted.  Her voice was soft and gentle.  That was probably one of the things Luka liked about her.  It sounded nothing like XY’s own nasally voice.  Maybe if he autotuned his vocals more…

“He knows what good music sounds like.  That’s how he ended up with the number one and number two stars on his label.”  Was XY back at number one again yet?  After the Kiddy Session mess, he was probably down on sales.  Stupid old Jacked Tone.

“Uh-huh.  That’s how he ended up asking me to make Jagged’s album cover look like yours, and having you butcher Kitty Section’s style.”

“I didn’t butcher it.”  Sure, it wasn’t his best rip-off job, but he’d only had a few days to pull it off.  Dad had liked it more than his original song anyway.

“The point is, I don’t think your dad knows as much as he thinks he does.”  Marmalade put a hand on his shoulder.  “He might know what’s popular, but he doesn’t know how to match an artist with their own style.  Jagged Stone is a rocker.  I’m a designer.  And you… what’s your style, XY?  If you could do anything you wanted?”

He shrugged.  “More of the same, I guess.  The stuff my algorithm spits out.  I mean, it sells, right?”

“Forget about that for a minute.  What do you like to listen to?”

What did he like?  Well… 

“I do love some sick beats.  And…”  He looked away, a little embarrassed.  “I did like the first song I made for Lu.  But Dad said it’s garbage—”

“Your dad is the one who’s garbage,” Marinade growled, her fists clenching.  “I think you could use a second opinion.  Can I hear your song?”

His first instinct was to say no. Hadn’t he embarrassed himself enough?  But it wasn’t like he really cared what she thought.  She couldn’t insult him much worse than she already had.   

“I guess.”  He pulled out his phone and AirPods.  It wouldn’t have the same effect as fancy headphones or Nino’s speakers, but then she could at least tell him it sucked and move on to giving him some real advice.

She stuck the AirPods in, and he hit play.

Surprise slammed over her face.  She must be shocked that a number one (or number two, now) pop star would come up with something so stupid.  Using her sewing machine noises?  That pigeon man’s bird call?  Really?  No stars did that!  He should’ve just stuck to the basic four chords, and left out lyrics like he usually did, and— 

Oh no.  The lyrics.

“Please don't tell Lu what I said,” he begged, hands clasped together over his phone.

She didn’t seem to be listening to him, though.  She was—oh crap, she was tearing up.  His song was so bad he’d made her cry!

He fumbled to hit pause, but Marinade’s hand closed over the screen first.

“You wrote this?  For Luka?”

“He’s gonna hate it.”  XY groaned.  “I lied to him and made him hate me and I can’t even make one stupid song—”

“No, no, he’s not going to hate you!  XY—you really like him, don’t you?”

“Pshaw, no.”  He crossed his arms and turned up his nose.  “Crushing on hot rockers is so ten minutes ago.”

Marinade blinked, then laughed.  Of course she’d just make fun of him again.  “If you say so.  But if you change your mind, I think it would be worth telling him.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled halfheartedly.  He’d probably ruined that chance today by lying to him.  If he’d even had a chance in the first place.

“I’m serious!  I can tell you put your heart into this song.  Luka will see it, too.”

He raised an eyebrow.  “You just wanna watch me crash and burn, don’t you?”

She shook her head, laughing again.  Pretty shady, if you asked him.  He should’ve asked Nino for help instead, but Marinade was the one Luka had liked.

“I don’t even know for sure if he likes dudes,” XY muttered, the toe of his sneaker scuffing the street.

“Don’t worry, he’s bi.  I wouldn’t encourage you if you didn’t have a chance.”

His heart started doing the macarena.  It was enough to get his hopes up again—except, he still only had the one garbage song.

“I need a new track.  Something super sexy that’ll blow his boat out of the water!”  He paced as he talked, hands flying through the air like over an invisible synth.  “But ugh, I don’t have time!  Lu already thinks I hate him ’cause I stopped coming over, but I can’t spoil the surprise.  That wouldn’t be cash money at all.”

“XY, you don’t need to write a whole new song.  I think yours is great just the way it is.”

His head snapped up, his hair bouncing from the force.  “Wait, you do?”

“Uh-huh.  Besides, if you keep waiting for the perfect moment, it’ll never come.  Trust me.”  She smiled sadly.  “You’re better off being honest with your feelings if you can.”

His mouth opened, but before he could find any words, a crash rang out from the balcony above.  He was pretty sure he heard a faint “owwww.”

Marinette glanced up and winced.  “Well, would you look at the time!  Thanks for stopping by good luck see ya!”

She darted back inside, leaving XY alone with the faint breeze trying to fight his hairspray.

“Huh.  Guess it was a date after all.”

If he pulled this off, maybe he’d have a date by the end of the night, too.

XXX

THWUMP.

Luka bolted upright, instinctively reaching for the neck of his guitar before feeling silly.  What was he going to do, beat off a burglar with his instrument?  He’d probably just break it, which would be even worse than getting robbed.

“Lu!”  A muffled voice shouted.

Oh no.  Not a burglar.  Luka knew who was going to be smushed against the window before he climbed out of bed and turned around.  His heartsong sped up against his will.

He hadn’t been prepared to see XY so soon after their fight at his hotel room.  Frankly, he hadn’t expected to see him at all.  His hair was a mess, several clumps falling out of their meticulously-styled quiff.  And he was still wearing Luka’s hoodie.

“Yo, don’t just stand there!  Help a dude out!”

Luka was so startled that he didn’t even argue, just scrambled up the steps to the deck, his footfalls thump thump thumping in time with his heart’s pounding rhythm.

He came back.  Why did he come back?

XY yelped as Luka hauled him onto the deck.  Déjà vu pricked at him, but this time instead of sneering in disgust, XY fiddled with his backpack strap nervously.

“What are you doing here?”  Luka asked, since XY was being surprisingly quiet.  He didn’t bother tacking on the obvious “it’s almost one a.m.” since XY had already proven he had no concept of time.

“Uh… I’m here ‘cause… I wasn’t very cash money to you today.”

He frowned.  “Yesterday, technically.”  

“Whatever.  Point is, I’m… sorry I lied to you.”

XY seemed to deflate, as if all his usual hot air finally left him.  Maybe it was a side effect of his tousled hair making him look smaller, but in that moment he looked nothing like his usual sauntering self.

“It’s fine,” Luka mumbled.  “It’s not like you promised to make your own music.  I don’t know why I expected you to.”

“Huh?  No, Lu—I did make my own music.  That’s what I lied about.  ’Cause Dad said it was trash and I was… I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of you, y’know?  I wasn’t even going to tell you, but Marinade gave me some advice, and… whatever.”  He ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it further.  “Just—let me play you this track, and then I’ll get out of your hair.”

Luka blinked, trying to follow XY’s rapid-fire words.  He didn’t have much time to process, though, before XY pulled his synth out of his backpack and unfolded it.  How did that clunky thing fit in there?

Then XY flipped a switch and pressed down on the keys, and music exploded from the Liberty.  Had he—had he hacked the boat’s sound system? 

“What did you do to my boat!”  he shouted over the electronic sounds, but XY didn’t seem to hear.  He was too focused on hitting the keys of his synth and belting out the first verse.

“You’ve got my heart flyin’ higher than a pigeon

Take me out we’ll go out to a kitchen

Stitch stitch stitch my heart is tickin’

Sit by me bro, come on and listen.”

Was that—?  It was.  Mr. Ramier’s bird call backed the track, somehow programmed into the synth.  He was pretty sure that whirring noise was meant to emulate a sewing machine, too, which would explain the stitch stitch stitch.  The noises should’ve felt jarring, but they blended strangely well with the upbeat melody. 

And XY’s singing voice… Luka had never heard it un-autotuned.  It didn’t sound anything like he expected.  The nasal tone was still there, but it was clearer somehow.  Like his heart and his words finally aligned.

“Woah, woah, you’re slick as a viper

Woah, woah, I start to perspire

Yo, you can call me a liar

But oh, oh, he’s got me inspired!”

He hit a high note that resonated in Luka’s bones.  And those lyrics… did Luka hear them right?  He was pretty sure he’d used “perspire” and “inspire” correctly, which was almost as shocking as the fact that he’d written an original song at all.

“Traffic cross the street, touch my hand,

Lost in your eyes, can’t see land

Take my breath away when you hold my face

Chords takin’ me higher than outer space!”

The bass dropped with that last line before the chorus repeated.  XY’s energy ran through him; he could feel the yearning in his voice.  

This was it.  His heartsong.  And, if it wasn’t just Luka’s hopeful imagination...

“Head on your chest, oh this is real

Cash money can’t buy the way I feel

Hope your hoodie’s not the only thing I steal

Wanna wake up staring into eyes so teal.”

XY looked up, meeting Luka’s wide-eyed gaze with a longing one of his own.  His fingers stumbled over the synth’s keys, but he coughed and finished the last chorus, his voice shaking only slightly.

“Woah, woah, you’re slick as a viper

Woah, woah, I start to perspire

Yo, You can call me a liar

But oh, oh, he’s got me inspired!

“Oh, oh, I’m walking a wire,

Oh, oh, you’ve set me on fire,

Yo, you can call me a liar,

But oh, OH, you’ve got me inspired!”

Oh… oh.  Luka’s heart stuttered as XY panted, hitting one last loud chord.  It echoed off into the night’s silence.  Luka was sure XY would hear his heart pounding now.

“So, what do you think?  Pretty cash money or what?”  His grin stretched too wide.

Luka swallowed, trying not to show just how much the unorthodox music affected him.  “You finally learned what inspiration means.”

“Huh?  Oh, yeah.  I guess I did.”  He chuckled.  “Does that mean you liked it?”

He tried to sound casual, but Luka still felt the trace of longing from him.  Maybe even desperation.  He’d bared his heartsong.  No matter how nervous Luka might be to admit it, he had to be honest in return.

“Dude, that was amazing,” he said, stepping around the synth to rest a hand on XY’s shoulder.  “Synths might not normally be my style, but I felt it. You were in the moment, putting your whole soul into it.  What changed?”

“Huh?”  He blinked, blue eyes wide.  It was hard to resist the urge to sweep his loose strands of hair back under his headband.

“I mean, why didn’t you make music like this before?  You couldn’t have learned how to do this all in a week.  You never gave me a real answer before.”  Luka had a guess, but even after the lyrics he’d heard, he didn’t want to assume too much.  He made that mistake with Marinette already, and this time…

He didn’t want to lose XY again.  He’d gotten used to his annoying presence.  That was all.

(The beats hopping in his heart quickly battered down that denial.)

“Bro, really?  Weren’t you listening?”  XY frowned, almost looking hurt.  “And people say I’m stupid.”

“Hey.”  

XY there his hands in the air. “It’s you, bruh.  You’re the voice I hear inside my head, the reason that I’m singing—”

“Wait, isn’t that the Camp Rock song?”

“Shut up, I’m trying to make a meaningful love confession!”

Luka choked, his face flushing.  “Love confession?  You’re—you’re serious.”

XY stared at him like he was stupid.  “What, you think I’d waste my time writing a whole song for just anyone?”

“No, I just…”  He had thought XY was joking, or just messing with him.  But it had been real.  Luka hadn’t read too much into things after all.  “I don’t know about love, but I—I can’t believe I’m saying this—I… might have a crush on you, XY.”

The other boy beamed, and Luka regretfully admitted it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen.

“Bro, I’ll take it!”  XY threw his arms around his neck, and suddenly Luka had an armful of him.  He smelled like hairspray and Doritos, and under that, something more subtle and hard to place.

Luka had the feeling he could get used to it.

XY suddenly pulled back, staring into Luka’s eyes again, but leaving his arms around his neck.  “Wait, does this mean you’ll be my boyfriend?  Do I get to kiss you?  ’Cause I gotta admit you look like you could use some chapstick first—”

Luka pressed his lips to XY’s half to prove a point, half to shut him up, and half because he just wanted to.  At the moment, his brain didn’t care that the math didn’t add up.  

A quiet squeal startled him into pulling back.  At first he thought it was XY’s, but he just looked stunned, his eyes half-lidded and a dumbstruck grin on his face.

“I’m gonna swoon now,” he said before swaying over.  

Luka barely managed to catch him around his waist before he hit the deck.  But if it wasn’t XY squealing, then— 

“Rose!”  He hissed, catching a flash of blonde hair ducking behind the speaker.  Juleka blended in better with the dark, but the faint glow from her phone screen gave her away.  “Jules!  Are you—wait, are you recording us?”

 Rose poked her head out, her fists balled up beside her cheeks.  “We couldn’t help it!  You two were just so cute!”

“I thought you’d want this for your wedding,” Juleka mumbled through a smirk.

XY sighed dreamily at that.  “What do you think our wedding colors would be, Lu?  Teal and purple?”

“I swear, if you don’t shut up I’ll drop you.”

“Aww, you just want me to fall for you agai—ACK!”  XY thudded to the ground.  “Ow… that wasn’t very cash money of you, babe.”

That was where Juleka’s video ended.  

But for the new music playing in Luka’s heart, it was just the beginning.