#me now: just dropped 40 dollars on an album

[hauntedestheart]

Artist Development (Male Possession)

Fame can change people. More specifically, fame can change people into me.

Who am I? I'm nobody and everybody. The biggest star in the world and a complete mystery at the same time. I've sold millions of records without anyone learning my name– you've heard my music, you just didn't know it was mine.

Wondering how this is possible? Let me tell you. I will remain anonymous and names will be redacted, but here's the tea on one of the industry's best kept secrets.

I was just a kid from Nowhere, Iowa (so to speak) who thought music was going to be my ticket out, and I was so sure about it that I dropped out of school and chased my dreams all the way to LA. After all, I was a great singer, played twelve instruments, wrote my own songs... surely I had everything it took to become the next big sensation in music!

Cue the laugh track.

Labels were always excited to meet with me after hearing my demos, but the second they saw my face they couldn't get me out of the room fast enough. I wasn't ugly, just... plain. Unremarkable. Average. And labels aren't interested in signing someone you could see walking down the street.

See, the sad thing about the music industry is that talent is only about 10% of what it takes. Maybe 15% on a good day. Having a successful career is 50% image (a fancy way of saying "being hot"), and that was something that I lacked.

But that remaining 40%? That's how willing you are to play the game, and that ended up being my saving grace.

My career was going nowhere fast, and after years of being beaten down by the industry I was on the verge of calling it quits and limping back home to Iowa. Then I got a call from a label (that shall remain nameless) asking for a meeting.

After years of rejecting me they were now offering me a deal: a guaranteed album release, collaborations with the best writers and producers in the business, a national tour, and a multi-million dollar marketing push.

The catch? I wouldn't be doing it as me.

Apparently the label had snapped up some kid that they were convinced had tons of star potential, but executives were nervous that he was a bit too green to succeed in the industry and they had come up with a radical new solution that could revolutionize artist development. Their r&d team had developed certain technology that could transfer consciousness from one human to another, effectively allowing them complete control over another person's body and live as them indefinitely.

The plan was to implant someone else into the kid's body and have them bear the brunt of his early years– someone with talent, experience, and most importantly, someone desperate that they could control. Someone just like me.

Though what we were doing was entirely legal (just a tip to any aspiring artists out there, always read the fine print in your contracts), for obvious reasons the label wanted to keep it on the down-low. The deal was that I'd "help" him through his first album, and then disappear into the shadows... but during that time I'd get to be a superstar.

Naturally I was conflicted. It was a tempting offer, but it was strange knowing that none of the success would truly be mine. No one would ever know my name. Was a hollow victory better than a defeat? Was I willing to sacrifice my artistic integrity for success?

Turned out the answer was "yes."

What sealed the deal for me was when they showed me a picture of the kid... a tall, strapping white boy who looked like he was built in a lab by thirsty gay men. I'd get to live my dream, and I'd get to do it looking like that? I'd be an idiot to pass that up.

So I accepted and turned him into the superstar he is today. Perhaps you've heard of him.

I spent two years piloting his body while he got his career off the ground, and with his face and my talent it wasn't long until I was topping the charts... and plenty of groupies as well. Fame is the ultimate aphrodisiac, but having tight abs doesn't hurt either! His penis was actually smaller than mine (bummer) but the rest of the package more than made up for it; the face of the boy next door with a body built for sin.

After years of being unremarkable, being a star went to my head fast and I'm not ashamed to admit that I became a bit of a slut... but trust me, if you could experience what it's like to be the hottest young thing on the scene, you'd do the same. I used that guy's body to fuck men and women in every city across America, and I even managed to do it without tarnishing his good boy image.

As long as I never missed a show or appointment, the suits were happy– and it helped that I was sucking them off behind their wives' backs.

(Like I said, you have to be willing to play the game.)

Eventually my contract ended and the label allowed the artist to resume control of his own body, but they were so pleased by my performance that they asked me to help them out with someone else– an established artist whose wild behavior was becoming a bit of a liability. Would I mind stepping in for him for a bit and helping get his career back on track after a few scandals?

And since then my life has been a whirlwind of different bodies. I've become the industry's invisible hatchet man, the enforcer who gets called in to deal with singers who need a bit of extra attention.

I've done it all: broken in newbies, rebranded stars, stood in for legends. I did a year in South Korea as a Kpop star– didn't speak a word of Korean, but that doesn't matter when you're as beautiful as he was. Name a boy band, I've probably spent at least a week as one of their members. I'm everywhere.

By this point I've lived so many lives that it would be pointless to list them all, so I'll stick to the greatest hits.

I took over the body of the frontman of a rock band who didn't want to "sell out" by going in the more sexual, commercial direction that the label wanted for them– which I, of course, had no qualms about. His shirt came off, and everyone was happy about what was underneath.

The other members of the group were skeptical at first, but I can be very persuasive when I put my mind to it. A lot of their fans wound up absolutely hating the new music, but hey, that wasn't any of my business!

Being onstage as a rock star is electrifying, when the music pounds and the crowd screams I feel like an absolute god. When I was up there shaking that wiry body around I knew that every single person in that room wanted to fuck me, and the second I got offstage I did my best to let them. Even if they didn't like the music, none of them complained when I invited them back to my dressing room.

And let me tell you, alt-rock groupies? They're freaky.

A lot of the artists I get assigned to are skinny young men (because every label thinks they're going to launch the next teen idol) so it's always a treat when I get to work as someone a bit more... let's say mature.

Once a popular r&b singer got into a dispute with his label over not wanting to film a certain feline related movie, so I was brought in to smooth things out in my own special way.

His voice wasn't that great but damn, could he move. I had to take a crash course in dancing but thanks to his body's muscle memory in a few weeks I was doing flips and splits I'd never dreamed of. The things his body could do were insane, and I took full advantage of that.

Strictly speaking about bodies, his was the best I've had. He was big in a way a lot of the other guys weren't, huge biceps and rippling pecs that I loved to show off. A hell of an ass too, though I didn't get much use out of it because he had the biggest penis I'd ever seen on a man and I wanted to cram that elephant trunk into everything I could.

A lot of the time, when I look in the mirror at the bodies of these superstars, I wish that I could suck on their dick. But in his body? If I bent over I actually could.

Honestly I hated the music I made as him– but man, I miss that dick.

I had similar motivations for spending a few months as an up and coming country music star– a bit more indie than my usual jobs, but I jumped at the chance to try out being a bigger guy (because let's face it, there aren't enough of those in the industry).

After years of cycling between bodies with abs it was a bit of a shock to suddenly have a gut, but the experience was even better than I could have dreamed. It's sensual in a different way– the feeling of all that soft flesh sliding under my hands still haunts my dreams.

Plus he was openly gay (another rarity, look at that) which meant I didn't have to keep my usual nighttime escapades on the down low. I didn't feel any less sexy– quite the opposite actually, I've never had people worship my body as hard as the guys I hooked up with when I was a scruffy bear cub.

Being gym trained hunks isn't exactly a hardship, but I did tell my management to keep an eye out for any more jobs like this one.

But probably my favorite experience was when I spent eight months helping a certain reggaeton artist break into the US market. The sex I had using that body? Out of this world.

I'm not sure what it was but his body was just built for sex. It oozed out of every inch of him, from those bulging tattooed arms to the hefty seven inches (soft!) he was packing down below. There was even a music video where someone sucked on my toes, because apparently even his feet were sexy.

This was the closest I ever came to getting fired, but I couldn't help it! I was constantly horny, all I could think about was drinking and screwing. I ended up overindulging a bit and the paparazzi caught some snaps of me stumbling out of a party naked and well... even though this guy had nothing to be ashamed of, it wasn't my proudest moment.

My ass was saved because the pictures blew up on Twitter in a good way, so his management decided that having a sexy bad boy image was actually good for him. Getting paid to party, have one night stands, and dance around shirtless? I have the best job in the world, and I never want to lose it.

Currently I'm assigned to a new guy, some viral online sensation that the label is worried will be just a one-hit wonder and needs the help of my special brand of direction.

I'm excited because I'm already seeing tons of "potential" in him... we're gonna make sweet music together, I can tell.

Gif sources: (x) (x)

[forgetmenot-mymoon]

CMYK ALBUM: Right as Rain Po Uta x Sabotage Len

Authors note: Obviously this is based off the CMYK album by Cirucsp and on Mors (11vein) drawings of the CMYK cast. I've been wanting to write this for a while, I finally used pride month as an excuse to do it. I might eventually make a part two.

Cw: Smoking, weed, Len

Crushed Cigarettes

That stupid blonde shitbag keeps stealing my cigarettes and hiding them. I paid Luka 40 dollars to keep mine safe and sound, she supplies the others like big Al so it wasn’t hard to convince,  I'm not stupid enough to trust Luka with all my stash though, but god every time I buy some and look through my draws they're all gone. At most they disappear in 3 days then I have to get some from Luka... As I debate how to keep my goods safe the twink passes by, I didn't even have a fuckin cigarette.  He looked like a fucking lil brat with his height, looking up at me like I was a criminal. 

“What do you want now? I’m not even smoking,” 

“Could you babysit Una and her friend? I need to do pilot stuff,”

“What the fuck is pilot stuff? Flying? Smoking?”

“I do not smoke. Furthermore, it’s none of your business, Len.”

“If I have to babysit it is my business, why can’t the others at CMYK do it?”

“Most of them can’t really be trusted-“

“Aw, but I can be? I’m flattered!”

“…Okay, I’m gonna go find someone else,”

“No, no, I can do it!”

“…For some reason, I don’t believe you,” He glared and stormed off fidgeting with his nice leather jacket.

Yeah he’ll be back, no way he’s gonna find someone in this shit hole.

I stand corrected, a couple of days later I passed the blondie,

“Hey Port! You still need a babysitter?”

“Oh, no, I found someone,”

“You- who??” He didn’t even complain about me calling him Port. What the fuck.

“Miki agreed, she’s new,”

“…who?” I haven't seen anyone new around here, I know I stay in my room a lot but I'm not a vampire. Is he joking? Po points out a lady talking to Una, I'm pretty sure that's Luka.

“The reddish hair,” Their lips move as he points to her, and her face comes into view-

“Oh- WAIT THAT'S NOT LUKA?”

“What- no- they look completely different- Luka doesn’t have red hair???” 

“Both of them have almost the same color!”

“I’m leaving, you're not all there” 

Fucking hell! I was okay with babysitting- I didn’t think he would actually find someone-

I should follow after them but I won’t. 

——

It’s been weeks, and the babysitting shit is happening today. I'm staying in the CMYK mansion (Technically Luka owns it,) to help out. If I can catch Miki messing up Port will rely on me again! Is she even fuckin supposed to be part of CMYK? She might just be one of Luka’s girlfriends. I smash into pink hair while I think, even dropping my cigarette that I wasn’t fucking finished with it. The pink-haired stomps it out quickly, probably fearing a fire.

“Those can cause a cancer of a fire,” Miki states calmly, i don't like her.

“I’m dead,”

“Oh…”

“Yeah,”

“Well it’s still not good for the kids, doesn’t Po-Uta have a rule against that stuff?”

“He doesn’t control me.” My voice snapped and went off as cold as ice, fuck. She just walked away.

God fuckin dammit. 

While I pace in the upstairs hall I notice a new addition to Port’s room, a lockbox shining out of the bottom of the bed. Wow, They're so stupid for leaving their door open, god it’s like he trusts people, big mistake. I smirk, time to go get some hair pins from Una, 

“Hey kid, you got any hairpins?” 

“Hiiii Len!! There’s some in the bathroom!!”

“Thanks,” 

“Can we go to the aquarium again soon?”

“Uh- oh- you’ll have to ask Po,” Last time we were kicked out soooo that’s definitely not happening especially if I’m the babysitter, which by the way I’m her FAVORITE babysitter. Speaking of…

“Where’s Miki?”

“She’s downstairs watching TV,”

Hmm, I note that as I steal some hair pins from the little cup Una keeps them in, the cup is decorated with various stickers and even bedazzled a bit. It was a gift from Rana.

I leave with a small wave and head to the Ports room, it has some rain candles and some dried flowers strung around different places, it’s a very spring, April vibe. There’s a lot of blues mixed with some subtle light pinks. It’s like a flower meadow. There are a couple posters too one of just a hand…it’s pretty in here. Anyway back to the lockbox! I crouch and pull it out, it’s not heavy and doesn’t look that secure so I simply pick it…one tick…two ticks...three ticks! 

Ohhh, I’ve hit the jackpot! Cigarette lottery!! So here’s where the twink put all his stash! All of them were stolen from me. I'll just steal them back…and something else, I pick one of the model planes off their window seal, his pride possession. They’ll immediately know it’s me since I don't clean up anything as I leave the scene of the crime. He’ll finally come to talk to me.

I was playing Fortnite about uh, 3 hours later, my door slammed open and blondie stepped in.

“Where the fuck is my model you asshat?”

“Ooh, we cursing today? It’s on the windowsill hon.”

“Don’t call me that," He snatches the plane off the window seal along with some of my packs on the table.

“Hey, hey,” I say standing up, glaring at him and his stupid teal sweater.

“You can’t steal them then I steal them then you steal them again Po, that’s not fair.”

“Me having to smell nicotine isn’t fair either.”

“Nothings fair in love and war Porter,”

“Go suck a dick!” Po marched to my door, looked back for 3 seconds to just glare at me then slammed it, I lit a cigarette and dozed off.

Goddamnit I wake up with a shutter, nightmares- oh I forgot to try to expose Miki! I’m such a fucking dumbass…she’ll probably be asked to babysit again too…fuck. 

——

For the next couple of weeks, I stalk, I can kinda go invisible cause y'know I’m dead. I stalk the red-haired bitch around, she babysits three more times but all she does is play dolls with Una and Rana, takes them to the beach once, and watch tv. I get fucking nothing which means…I need help- not mental- well yes mental- but not right now.

If anything it’s the opposite.

Risu.

I smoke weed while I tell the crazy bitch all the details while she stares at one of her giant cylinders, a cyan clone. It won’t live long, they murder them all eventually. They are all like flowers to her, beautiful but meant to die as decor. Ugh, this is too deep I take another hit. Her hair is frizzy from being busy, the white mixing with the black as they turn to face me, away from her other tools and vials of who knows what.

“So are you trying to date Po-uta?” 

“WHAT-” There goes being stoned!

“You seem to be wanting his attention then sabotaging yourself,” They said giggling quietly,

“I do not WANT his attention, he’s ugly he’s like so saturated and stupid and his hair isn’t as soft as it could be cause he doesn’t take care of the shit. Like I tell him what products are best and he fuckin ignores it all, such a shithead.

Risu stared at me like she had never seen me before, blinked, sighed then uttered “You’re colorblind, everything’s saturated!”

“No, the fuck I am not!” Just because I see differently doesn't mean I'm colorblind, god I hate women.

“…okay, it’s not like I created you or anything,” she shrugs, their lab coat is splattered in fresh CMYK, some of it drips to the floor settling with age-old stains.

“Yeah, you didn’t!”

She pauses, they pull their mask up higher. “…why did you come here? Just for weed? I’m busy and my printers starting to run out of ink.” 

“Are you asking me to run an errand?” I take a hit before continuing. I need everything I can get. “I’ll do it if you tell me some dirt on Miki,”

“You are strange but I’ll play along.” She said crossing their arms. I stand, my vision gets consumed by dots for a couple of seconds. I walk off. I just have to walk to the store- darn it I forgot my wallet! I realize as I shut the door to Risu's. Ugh, I go back to the mansion, I feel a bit sick as I open the door- I immediately run into the twink- or he runs into me, I giggle.

“What?” “You're so short Porter.”

They're silent, I giggle again, “Do you know where my wallet is?

“I assume in your room?”

“..mm” I make a noise, this is a good chance for time with the twink, maybe I can learn more about Miki.

“Can you go with me to get it?”

“What!? Are you scared of your own ghosty basement or something??”

“Just come on!”

“Did you smoke?? I smell weed. You can't come in here high! There's children!” he yells and rants while following me down the stairs. 

“Ah,” Their shoes scuffle a bit, I assume the blondie almost tripped.

“Don't trip sweetheart.”

“Shut up!” Heh, I love being high when someone else trips. We get to my room, I grab my wallet then grab a pack and light one while Port death stares at me.

“Can you get any worse? You're already high on weed.” He sighs, rubbing his forehead like I'm an annoying 3 year old.

“I can always get worse Porter,”

“Yeah, i have nightmares about that,”

“I have nightmares about my death.” I say then take a long hit, the smoke fills my lungs getting rid of the darkness for at least a moment.

Po doesn't know what to say so I pat his shoulder as I go to walk upstairs, They're too shocked to even yell at me. Which was the point. As I shut the front door I wished I stayed to talk to him more- Ugh never mind that- I'm dead, I'll get plenty of time especially after I expose the bitch, Miki. These thoughts haunt me as I walk up the block to the tiny convenience store. How does a small store like it have printer ink? Risu magic that's how, plus a small store is all big Al could handle. Thankfully since Al loves detrimental things, the store has a nice collection of vapes and cigarette brands, i only get the expensive ones when it's a special occasion though…or to annoy Po-uta, if I get one that smells a bit worse, he has a fit its hilarious. I walk in the smell to the delicious smell of vape- or Maki's perfume- it's hard to tell the difference with how good the smells are getting. Perhaps both with how much Maki visits, she's not here now though considering Al is asleep. I look around and go to the back, the back is where all the ink is, in fucking rows of CMYK boxes, all giant and stacked up, that's what Risu’s cloning shit needs, ugh carrying it's gonna be a bitch, and I'm not stupid enough to wake up Al. If he's not awake that means I can steal, I open the little counter door and go in to grab some packs

“Po..is that you needing another lockbox again?...y-you've…three,., week”

...I take a breath and try to ignore the implication that the stupid asshole is doing that much to keep cigarettes away from me. I take as many packs as I can-including a couple of expensive horrible-smelling ones that I will smoke in that stupid pilot's room- I shove them in my cargo shorts. Then I go back and pick up the stupid box of printer ink and head back, I lose my grip multiple times. I'm forced to just sit it down every once in a while. There's a gym in the mansion, I guess this is proof I need to use it more. When I'm semi-near Risu's lab, I opt to just push it down with my foot. You would think a god could do this herself...I did offer though. The doors are heavy as concrete so I push them open and then kick the box in. Risu looks at me with a mixture of excitement for the box and disgust for me. Po looks at me the same when I bring shit home. God, I'm worthless. 

“Thanks for the box Len,” They say as she snaps her fingers and it teleports to the corner next to her giant human printer- Could they have done that the until time- Well I did offer first. Fuck this.

“Please tell me you know something about Miki,”

“Hmm, well Miki's nice but she's barely official if you ask me. I don't know why Luka lets her stay there. “

“Is that it-" I say getting pissed but then she interrupts,

“Well, she’s a positive young woman, there's not much on her, maybe argue with Po about her cable usage?” God, sometimes I wish I wasn't dead so I could die again.

I take a deep sigh, “I’ll go do that, thanks.” She smiled as i left. I basically limp back to the mansion, so fuckin' tired. I creep down the stairs and then flop on my bed, not bothering to even look around-

“You’re home early,”

“WHATTHEFUCK-” I practically jump up. The stupid twink was looking at me from their seat at my desk. “Why the fuck are you in my room?!”

“Stealing your cigarettes,”

I stand and march over to him. I turn my pockets and dump all my stash on the floor except one of the expensive ones which I hold in my hand. I grab my lighter on the ebony desk and light one, I haven't blinked since I started staring into those stupid damn eyes. Port stared back, not blinking either until he scoffed and stormed out, but he didn't even take any. A few moments later I go upstairs to the little calendar whiteboard in the kitchen. My cigarette burning in hand, I grin as the marker smoothly creates,

Len: 1 Po Uta: 0

 Ah, the kitchen. This is where I do all my thinking

I giggled as I headed to the fridge for a late-night snack, I doubt I'll sleep tonight, never really do. There's fucking nothing, it's as empty as my stomach and I'm too tired to cook ramen or something. So I go to the cabinets and rip open a bag of chips. I glance out the window beneath the cabinets, It's only been a couple of years since my death but it feels like yesterday, the moon is the same shape it was that night. Well, I was killed a lot of times but for some reason (A Risu reason,) I didn't come back to life. I’m sure Rin’s ecstatic without me. I crush my cigarette on the counter and light another, leaving it for Mr. Know-it-all to find. Fresh air doesn't sit right when you've got nicotine. I hear footsteps, as I take another hit, sadly it's not Port, must be Una.

I crush the cigarette and open the fridge as she steps in, “You want juice, milk or water?”

“Juice!”

“Okay, coming right up kid.” I grab the jug- my arms still sore from the box- along with a small cup, she doesn't need to drink that much at night, it would only keep her up.

“Thank you!” she practically skips out, I bet she's calling with Rana. I finally limp back to my room, it's fucking 2 am already where does the time go? Eh, it'll be another hour of staring at the ceiling before I can sleep.

When I woke up I was greeted with a comforting waft of pollen and petals up my nose. An age-old sensation, the smell of roses. I used to have a garden of roses, my favorites were pink ones just like the bouquet on my nightstand. Did that stupid twink sneak in while I was asleep? Do they know privacy?

Motherfucker. 

I will admit they are pretty though. Ugh my face better still be as white as a ghost, I put my hand to my cheek it’s warm- it’s more of as red as a tomato. 

Well, this is another excuse to confront Po. My determination ignited by this unwanted gift so I stomp up my stairs and then the stupid damn spiral staircase to the upper floor. Why Luka has spiral staircases I will never understand. Rich people. I light one(an expensive one) when I finally get up, needing a break but I persist. The door's closed, which means he’s in there, the fuck never leaves it open. I knock…no answer so I knock again, there’s shuffling then ta-dah the door is open. My breath struggles for a moment, his hair is a fucking mess! I can barely contain my laughter. Idiot, Their eyes are tired but still annoyed at my existence, some things never change. The shortie opens the door wider- They only have his boxers and sweater on- okay ignoring that. 

“What do you want Len? It’s 9 am,” 

“Most businesses are open by now,” 

“What do you want?” I push him aside as I step into the room,

“Flowers,” 

They looked at me puzzled, “You have some downstairs, didn't you see them?" I nod, "And there are some flowers in Luka’s garden- she pays some of us just to care for them…which you always refuse to do. Those roses are from there. I planted some that I got on my errands to the store.”

“That’s your pilot stuff huh.” I smile as I put my cig in my mouth and take another hit, if he hadn’t given me flowers I would’ve blown it in his face, instead, I turned. Lucky bastard.

I wonder how long he was up working on that bouquet- I regret not looking at it more, the vase and wrapping looked really nice- I’ll check on it later and give it a good stare. Maybe it’ll help me sleep. I glance at the windowsill, the model plane is already back where it belongs. They always keep everything looking so brand new. Heh, Port can’t keep me like that though, since I’m dead and annoying.

“What’s that smile? You better not be thinking of stealing a plane again.”

“Never sweetheart.”

“You shouldn’t call me that stuff.”

“Why not honey?” I quietly say as Po takes a long sip of the water he grabbed off his nightstand. I can his throat move as he shallows hot. I take another hit- 

Suddenly his lips were on mine.  

“What the fuck,” I gasp, it ends as soon as it started,

“Well that got you to stop smoking for a second,” He smirks as he lifts up the cigar I had, drops it, and steps on it, all in that order. “The smell was annoying, it could bother Una.”- He should be glad the carpet didn’t catch- What the fuck. They show me a pack- my pack- he fucking pit-pocketed me when we kissed! What the fuck! 

“Give them back you fucking asshole, I swear to god!” I grab their wrists and he just laughs, such a fuckbag. I hear a thud, god fucking dammit now he’s pinned to a wall fuck my life.

“uh…Len?”

“Shit- I didn't mean too- is your head okay?”

“I...I'm fine,”

“Are you sure?” gently touch their head…his hair has gotten softer, maybe they finally listened to my shampoo advice. He just nods, shaking a bit, stupid blondie won't even make eye contact. 

He squirms out of my grip, his smile a challenge. It’s cute but this is going too far, “I’ll see you later you little shit” I say -it’s not what I want to say- I walk out as I backhand wave, his smile collapses. Another thing on the regret list. 

Every step felt heavier as I walked back to my room. I stay in bed the rest of the day and stare at the damn ceiling, sometimes catching glances at the wonderful bouquet next to me. The scent may not be strong but it’s like a comforting blanket. I almost dozed off a few times cause of it. 

A few minutes later, Someone knocks, I pretend to sleep, knock again, and continue pretending a couple minutes later the door opens. I know it’s blondie by the silent footsteps, but not so silent that I can’t tell they’re wearing boots. Out of instinct when Po gets close enough, I reach out and grab his wrist, “AH-“ he falls on the ground with a quiet thump.

“You’re an idiot Porter- what time is it?” I wonder how long it’s been- I sometimes stay in bed for days without realizing- this may just be a wellness check. 

I sit up, “Wow, now you’re on your knees huh?”

“It’s 3 pm on a Thursday,”

“Ah I’ve been here awhile, well, I’m alive you can leave now- well not alive but y'know-“ I flop back down on the bed 

“Could you give me my cigarettes Po? Also the vase is really pretty, I can tell you tried.” 

I wasn’t gonna say thank you. 

“I’m not giving you those cancer sticks, so are we gonna talk about what happened upstairs or what?” He says as he stands up and dusts off his pants. 

“There’s nothing to talk about, it’s basically happened a couple times.”

“That’s my point. I’m not leaving till we talk about it.”

“You’re an asshole,”

“Yes, you call me that every day Len,”  

I glare at the blondie, his cheeks are soft with a slight blush, I wonder if they ever wear makeup as I stare into those stupid big eyes,

“You have bug eyes,”

“Are you going to insult me till I leave?”

“Yep, your hair is too fluffy, did you take the advice I gave you months ago?”

“Okay first it wasn’t fluffy enough, now it’s too much?”

“It has to be just right, like mine,”

“You haven’t showered in a decade!” They say exasperated from me already,

“Yeah, I’m dead!” I retort. I look at the pink roses, they are pretty- oh shit yeah Miki!

“Miki watches too much tv and Una likes me better, so i don't think she should babysit.”

Port looks like he wants to die as he sighs, he does that a lot around me.

“Okay well how about you babysit?”

“I don’t wanna babysit,"

He stays silent looking at me his head cocked, eventually after a few seconds the blondie continues,

“Well Maki's been telling me how she won’t be able to babysit all the time, so I need someone and the others already said no,”

“You’re gonna force me to babysit again? Even after the aquarium incident?”

“What-“

“Ohh, no one ever told you- uh nothing,” I didn't think the others would keep that a secret! A moment of silence follows suit, Po's mouth an o shape. I giggle before continuing,

"Why can't Flower do it?"

"It's Flower, they're a mental health crisis of their own, more than even you. Anyway yes you're gonna babysit, and you’re going to the diner with me on Friday” 

“What-

“See you then, I’ll tell you when you get to babysit there!” They give me a smirk showing off those nice fucking teeth of his. 

Oh my god, he’s such an asshole. 

Suddenly Port pops back in, 

“Oh, there’s fireworks tonight in the backyard!” 

I fucking grind my teeth, fine. After he’s gone I go upstairs, I need to make sure he doesn’t think I’m going up for his ass.

Asshole.

[dollarbin]

Dollar Bin #40:

Lucinda Williams' Running Down A Dream

As the self-appointed Lord of The Dollar Bin I do not sing karaoke. The closest I come is bellowing out Love Shack on the bike ride to work/school with my daughter, much to her horror and amusement. Why Love Shack? I don't know. The song just floats my entire flotilla of boats.

But when it comes to karaoke, there's only one human being I would eagerly listen to rocking the mic, and that's Lucinda Williams. She's Tom Waits without artifice; she's my Dodgers as soon as Clayton Kershaw retakes the mound; she's my sainted wife with a flamethrower.

And so I've always been on the Dollar Bin watch for Running Down a Dream, Williams' Covid-era toss off Tom Petty tribute album. I've never been willing to drop $30 for it, ever. But $15 while on vacation for a three sided record, even if it's nothing more than Lucinda offering up Petty's lyrics via teleprompter while assorted young men act like The Heartbreakers? Yeah, sign me up.

At least for me, the legend of Lucinda Williams still begins with the Rolling Stone review of Car Wheels On A Gravel Road in the late 90's. Back then the magazine was a meaningful authority rather than an endless series of pop up ads for sex toys and the equally dumb Foo Fighters. And so that review introduced me to Williams as a feminist savant, a mature woman who could sing about masturbation and make it high, perfected, art.

Well, it's 26 years later and Williams no longer dwells in the perfectionist camp, refusing to put out records until they are impeccable. Gillian Welch took her place on the perfectionist throne late in the Oughts and hasn't let go yet.

Let's get into this record:

The first three songs are freakin' awesome. This is not karaoke; this is Lucinda Williams finally delivering a big deal rock and roll record.

She opens with Rebels, Petty's personal, problematic and deeply poetic rewrite of The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down. The song marks the end of Petty's mid-80's, heavy cocaine, first smashing into a wall, era; sitars, skateboarders and vampires soon took over. As such the song comes complete with allusions to "blue bellied devils" who "burned our cornfields and left our cities leveled". That would be the union soldiers who saved our country and ended slavery. So, wow, that's something to chew on.

Williams, who's obviously white and grew up in the deep South, had to have a Confederate flag airbrushed off her jacket for an early album cover. But she also preaches progressive politics in song, swears by the Velvet Underground as much as Hank Williams, and calls Trump a man without a soul. So, like Petty's song and Petty himself, she's complicated.

But singing a song like Rebels without apology and making it the lead track for an album that came out at the same time everyone worthwhile - including Williams herself - was grieving George Floyd is a bit more than complicated; its straight up knotty. Or nutty. Or both.

But meanwhile the song sounds awesome.

The album's title track follows, so we get a break from all that edgyness and take a ride with Petty, Del Shannon and Lucinda. And what a lovely drive: the track gives the hipsters in her band a chance to shred. Petty's lead guitarist, Mike Campbell, is the white man's Hendrix, sure.

But check this out.

Williams doesn't let up after that; rather she makes another brilliant decision with Gainesville, an Echoes-era outtake I never appreciated until now.

Williams owns the song; like Petty, she too grew up thinking of a place with more than a few stoplights as a "big town". It's these moments of sympathy and kinship between Lucinda and Tom I like best; later in the album Williams handles the line "be a landlord and a renter" in a manner that shows she deeply understands the later position and has no interest in the former. In doing so she understands Petty's lyric better than he did and way the hell better than I, born into late 70's SoCal privilege, ever could.

But Williams recorded three or four other tribute records all at once during the lockdown and then rushed them all out - and that entirely oppositional approach to the deliberate work she did in the 90's makes for problems during much of the rest of the album. Too often the arrangements are obvious, and therefore dull. Same thing with the song selection: You Don't Know How It Feels has always been a boring song and Williams offers it no fresh new angle. Let me get to the point Lucinda: you shoulda chosen a better song.

But the album's biggest problem is Side 4: and that's because there is no Side 4. We get a picture disc of Williams instead of any of the real deep tracks from Petty's first, pumped-up heyday. We should have Insider, with Williams performing utterly solo; we should gaze with her out the window of a 747 and see only black sky.

And we should hear American Girl delivered by one of the greatest of our American Women.

[thelukaskaiser]

Record Store Clerk

I miss the record store clerk. There are still record stores - some sell vintage LP’s, some sell a mix of new and old stuff, some even have CD’s! Which - incredible to see in my lifetime CD’s go from being the most reviled medium to something people are nostalgic for. 

But at these new fangled record stores, the people working there are keenly aware of the status of buying physical copies of music - banged up and bruised, unconfident. And acting accordingly, these truly passionate and kind hearted record store clerks in these new fangled record stores are HELPFUL - they want you to make a great purchase - and fall in love with their recommendations so that you’ll come back again and again - and maybe one day find yourself in a world where buying music is a normalized activity again. 

Wow - these are nice people, these clerks and salesmen behind the counter at the new fangled record stores. Which makes them absolutely unrecognizable with the quintessential, platonic ideal Record Store Clerk of yesteryear that I miss oh so much. 

You see, when you’re younger, you get nostalgic for the good times. But beyond nostalgia there’s a certain wistfulness for the fuller experiences of our childhood - and I’m a 40-year-old man who consumes music - and have a defined though flexible sense of my own taste - and I will say the FEAR that the Record Store Clerks instilled in me - at all the various record stores - is what shaped that taste. 

Picture this kids - you’re 9 years old and you love the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Which makes sense because it’s 1991 and the singles from their breakout album “Blood Sugar Sex Magik” are being blasted across the radio airwaves and all over MTV. 

You’re a kid - so you don’t know what day of the week albums drop - you just know that you saw this one was dropping soon. So you ask your parents to drive you to the record store and let you buy the album with your allowance money. 

Now - CD’s at that point in time, in 1991 - cost an insane amount of money. Their LIST PRICE - in 1991, 32 years ago, was $19.95. Most CD stores would sell them at a discount - between $11 and $13. 

That means their list price, in today’s dollars, was $43! And they were “on sale” for $27. 

Music was VALUABLE back then. And you’re in the store - a 9 year old having saved money from doing chores for like, maybe a whole year and you approach a surly looking Record Store Clerk. You walk up slowly, feeling intimidated by his black baseball cap and horn rimmed glasses and his intense, furrowed brow. He’s reading a paperback novel of some sort and you hope that as you slowly walk up to him, he’ll see you in his peripheral vision and look up and engage with you. 

“What do you need, young man?” He says to you, in your fantasy. 

“Acceptance for who I really am,” you say in your fantasy. “Both in the long term - but also, in the short term - by you acknowledging and complimenting me on my taste in music.” 

This fantasy - it never comes. Because the Record Store Clerk never looks up. He just keeps reading - licking his fingers as he turns the pages. You’re standing just beneath him now - and he looks like a bird of prey, perched on the ledge of a building, cooly ignoring the pigeons and doves that hover around - his eyes set far away. 

You clear your throat. He looks now, down at you. 

“Yes?” He says, in a tone that FEELS like “No.” 

He waits. “Need something?”

“Uhh…” you’d arrived with a purpose - but somehow, your nerves got the best of you and can’t seem to remember why you’re in this record store to begin with. 

“Hmm” he says and returns to his novel. 

Just then, you remember your father is in the store with you. You glance to your right to see him, his face constrained in confusion. That’s MY son there? you imagine he’s thinking. You see him cringe and then he whispers “Red Hot…” 

He’s jogged your memory. 

“Uh…” you muster the energy to interrupt the Record Store Clerk again. He’s really not happy this time. You glance at your father - he mouths it again “Red Hot…” You sigh to yourself, slump your shoulders, look down and say:

“Do you have the… Red Hot Chili Peppers album?”

“God no. Of course not,” the clerk says. 

You’re thrown off guard and you look at your father, who it seems, is also thrown off guard. He comes over to your side now. 

“Uh, do you know when it’ll be in stock?” Your dad asks. He’s meek now, cracking under the pressure of the Record Store Clerk’s seemingly invincible force field of scorn and derision. 

“Hopefully never,” the clerk says, turning his gaze back to his book. 

“What… What do you recommend we get instead?” My father musters the strength to ask. The clerk tosses my dad a copy of NWA’s debut album “Straight Outta Compton”. There’s a parental warning label on the album but in the dizzy haze of the moment, my dad pushes through, ignores that subtle signifier and buys me one of the most seminal influences on my budding artistic psyche. 

Because this surly fellow - the Record Store Clerk - refused to sell us something that he deemed in poor taste. More than a music reviewer - more than a musician himself - a Record Store Clerk believed, with intrinsic honesty and valor, that MUSIC was VALUABLE. 

They understood these objects - records, tapes, CDs, sometimes posters - weren’t just disposable, replaceable pieces of “media”. These were coveted and magical objects of DESIRE. 

I don’t want to be “sold” on things. I want someone who cares more than I do to give me a doorway into their passion. I want someone who is willing to laugh at me or tell me I’m a fool for asking the wrong question because they’re confident enough in their belief in their products. 

The luxury space sometimes approaches this - but I don’t think passion should be a commodity that only rich people can afford.

There used to be sandwich shops in New York where you were told they would kick you out if you ordered wrong. 

There are hot dog spots in Chicago and cheesesteak places in Philly like that too. Dedicated, committed people who work and live and breathe a “brand” and its wares so confidently that they don’t tell you why you should buy it. They tell you why you’re maybe not worthy of making its purchase. 

What happened to these temples of passion? These record stores and comic book spots and movie palaces and sandwich spots with a line around the block - the more we’re told we’re doing it wrong the more we want to come back? 

Has our on-demand culture made the “work for it” culture that defines taste go away? The only time you see a line around the block for a store is if they’re selling sneakers and people think they can flip ‘em on eBay. 

That’s not right - passion shouldn’t be transactional. It should be transcendental! 

I want the Record Store Clerks back. I want them at their perch, telling little kids they’re not allowed to buy that pop album because there’s this new noise band they need to listen to instead. 

I want this next generation - Gen Z sure but also Gen Alpha - to feel what it was like to have the unbearable weight of a confident and over qualified Gen Xer sitting behind the counter somewhere, ready to possibly get fired for their passion. 

I miss it. I’m not sure we’ll ever get it back. But I pledge that I will seek out experiences that challenge me and make me uncomfortable - that don’t please my algorithmic choosing but challenge my tastes. 

I don’t want a quiet machine to guess what I might like. I want a scornful teenager to tell me what I like is BAD and give me recommendations as to what I should like instead. 

Grumpy, ironic machines. Is that too much to ask for? 

(It might be)

[hitmesupersonic]

i’m in my kpop era 

[angrypedestrian]

@explosionshark​ asks for my Joyce Manor album rankings and top songs I MUST respond

1. Of All Things I Will Soon Grow Tired If there are 1,000 fans of Of All Things I am one of them, if there are 100 fans, I am one of them, if there is one fan of Of All Things I Will Soon Grow Tired it is me. I almost certainly love this album more than any person on earth. It’s so fucking weird and disjointed and scrappy. Video Killed The Radio Star? WHY NOT? Acoustic track recorded on an iPhone 2 dropped in a ditch, yes absolutely. Can that track lead right into one of the most blistering JM songs of all time? You bet! Will we press the vinyl so that one side of the record is 33 rpm and one side is 45? Uh huh! Barry has said this was a fuck you record, almost self-destructive in how defiant it was, of their own success and of expectations put on them, and I love it for that. We’ll never get a record like this again I don’t think.

2. Never Hungover Again Probably their best record, front to back. Every. Single. Song is killer. A no-skips album. PLUS Frances Quinlan is on the album cover so you KNOW it’s a good time. But god, it would still be in the #2 spot even if Catalina Fight Song was the only good song on the record. The sheer power that track has is unparalleled by anything else in their catalogue.

3. 40 oz. to Fresno This is probably the platonic ideal of what they wanted Of All Things to be, but they were still too early in their career to get there. It’s more cohesive and, imo, listenable than Of All Things, but maintains the same spirit, just with the polish of 10 more years together as a band. That it opens with a cover is just incredible, and delights me to no end.

4. Cody I don’t know if any of the individual songs on this one are top tier JM tracks, except maybe Stairs and Eighteen, but overall, aside from Never Hungover, I feel like this might be their most consistent record? I dunno, I just really like the vibe of this one, and return to it more often than I thought I would when it first came out.

5. S/T I know I know I know, but aside from Constant Headache nothing on this record really does it for me personally. Objectively, it is a perfect debut filled with classic tracks, and it is absolutely lovable in its scrappy-ness, I just don’t vibe with most of it the same way lots of other folks do. But I totally concede that hearing any of these songs live is like the most fun you can have at a show, and that all the S/T songs work much better in that context.

6. Million Dollars to Kill Me At least half the songs on this were written for an unfulfilled Barry solo record, the rest seems like was written to just fill the space and make it long enough to consider it a JM record instead. Aside from Big Lie and maybe Up the Punx, I don’t think there are any real standouts on this one. Not a Bad Record by any means, but I just don’t think it is a good JM record.

7. Songs from Northern Torrance I am famously a fake Joyce Manor fan who isn’t big on their early stuff. I think this collection is interesting, and it’s nice that they collected a bunch of their earlier stuff in one place. Five Beer Plan still slaps, and it’s cool to see how they got from where they started to where they are now, but I barely revisit any pre-S/T stuff, so this one’s not for me. That took SO long so I’m just gonna put my list of top ten (eleven actually I couldn’t cut one more) songs here and you can just speculate as to why they’re here.

1. If I Need You There 2. Catalina Fight Song 3. Heart Tattoo 4. Big Lie 5. Constant Headache 6. Violent Inside 7. Eighteen 8. Victoria  9. See How Tame I Can Be 10. Stairs 11. Dance With Me

[thebraingremlinsaremad]

Daily Blog #15: August 22, 2021

Dollar Tree is honestly pretty fucking awesome 👌👌👌

I set my alarm for like 6:25 this morning, but it took 6 minutes for the "Horsin' Around" theme song instrumental to wake me up. I was pretty tired lol. I just dismissed it and went back to sleep.

I only went back to sleep because I knew I had another alarm set for 7:00. That got me up.

I should mention that this was still in the RV over an hour away from the house.

After I got up, I went to go get a shower, and did so successfully.

Unfortunately, I had forgotten my brush this time and had to do it afterwards after my hair had a bit of time to dry, which did make it a little more difficult lol.

I got dressed and grabbed my stuff, putting it into my car.

I made it a point to see and say "see you later" to my grandparents before I left for the flea market.

My dad insisted that I stayed to say goodbye to my mom, so I left.

I did NOT have cell service up there, as was mentioned in my previous 2 blogs of which I could only post today, so finding my way was a tiny bit difficult until I got some service to ask Google to take me to "...".

It worked and I got there.

On my drive, I listened to 1 by Simple Kid, a CD I had previously purchased at a Dollar Tree location.

I got a call from the guy at the flea market saying that I had some people there waiting for me. He asked how far away I was, to which I said "about 10 minutes." Ironically, that call made me miss my exit, as Google couldn't talk during the call, and added about 3 minutes to my arrival time lmao.

I did sell the Xbox that he said someone was interested in. I got $40 for it. I spent 27¢ on it. Pretty good return if you ask me.

I couldn't sell it with anything other than a power cord because the controller and AV cables I had been using to play it there were for my personal console. I'm just glad I can actually hook my Xbox up and stop having to drag them to the flea market along with a small library of games.

Not too long after I sold the Xbox, someone came in and asked if I wanted to see some electronics he had in his car. I went out with him. It was a pair of 3ft speakers and a Pioneer audio system with dual cassette decks (although neither of them works) and a 25 Disc CD-changer, as well as the standard AM/FM tuner. Additionally, there was a Fisher amplifier and AM/FM tuner as well as a Fisher Direct Drive turntable. He said he wanted $60 for em, but before that he casually, and probably accidentally, dropped that he was just gonna take em to the thrift store.

Big mistake.

I got em for $35 lmao. THERE GOES MOST OF MY PROFIT.

Oh well.

I tested everything. As I mentioned, the cassette decks don't work, but everything else does apart from the turntable needing a new stylus.

I posted some new photos of the shop to Facebook, and someone soon DMed me about a stereo system.

I priced everything, and it turns out I have about $300 worth of equipment from that deal, the Fisher amp and tuner being worth about $150.

The buyer will hopefully show up next weekend, for he wants to buy the Fisher stuff ($185 with the turntable), the 3ft speakers, an 8-track deck, and a Kenwood deck we've had for a week or two.

The speakers are listed for $50 (and are worth around $100-150), the Kenwood Deck for $50 as well, and the 8-track for $35. That makes it about $320 in equipment. Since he's buying so much, I'll knock it down to $270 and essentially give him the speakers or cassette deck for free lol.

Apart from that stuff, not much happened at the flea market. I sold some records, cassettes, CDs and I think 2 DVDs. One person bought a VHS tape? That money was the other guy's though. Oh well xD.

I can't say that I didn't miss my wonderful partner while on the trip. I actually brought along the stuffed animal they gave me (who's name is Greg) and snuggled with him both nights.

I was very happy to hear from them UwU.

They let me rant and I let them rant.

I honestly give them too much responsibility over me xD. I'm like, "Okay, I'm gonna do this. HOLD ME TO IT."

I know I can't hold myself to anything I personally say (this blog being the only exception apparently), but I listen to them pretty well I think 🤔. If they tell me, "No, you don't need that VCR," so long as it's not some weird specialty thing, like a worldwide VCR 🥵, I'll be like "Yeah, you rite bro."

I love you man xD. You control my craziness pretty well. I'm so thankful for you UwU.

#relationshipgoals

So part way through the flea market day, I went over to Dollar Tree to buy some snack, but ended up looking through the CDs to see if there was anything good. I took photos of about 18 CDs and flipped through them online for the remainder of the flea market day.

I deleted the photos of the ones I didn't want and kept those that I liked. Surprisingly, I ended up buying 13 CDs there, but not before dropping them on the floor like the dumbass I am.

Also, sorry for all the nerd shit I spilled on your lap earlier. No one cares about amps and tuners xD.

I'M LISTENING TO ONE OF THE DOLLAR TREE CDS RIGHT NOW THO.

I already transferred over to my online library on iBroadcast and put the disc into my CD changer, which is now holding 164 CDs.

Its max capacity is 300 discs 🥵

WHY AM I NERD

Oh well

I like being a nerd gurl

Also maybe a technosexual 👀

I get really excited over some electronics. Like. REALLY excited.

Some editing VCRs are like "Holy shit that is SEXY. Look at those goddamn VU meters 🥵. And hhhh there are like 7 inputs on this thing and individual controls for left and right audio gain, not to mention Hi-Fi S-VHS recording. Hhhhhhhhhhh please gimme 😭. Why are you so expensive?"

I uh, mean, uh, *cough* look, pretty lights.

Oh yeah, I was gonna say the album I was listening to xD. MAN I GOT SIDETRACKED.

It's 37 Everywhere by Punchline. Def give it a listen; it's pretty heccin good.

Another notable album I picked up was Page One by Steven Page. I very much like the first track, "A New Shore." It's quite catchy and he has a great voice imo.

Also at dollar tree, I bought a regular bag of Fieras and 2 bags of Fieras Sticks, which were marked down to 75¢/bag because they're expiring soon.

I honestly like the generic Dollar Tree version of Takis more than actual Takis. They're a lot more flavorful when it comes to the lime, but also hotter at the same time.

Don't get the hot nacho ones tho. Hot nacho? More like hot pile of shit.

HAH

Goteem.

They're not that good xD.

THE REGULAR ONES ARE FIRE THO

"How do you do fellow kids?"

I got home and started working on putting the CDs onto my computer, and then onto iBroadcast, but not without first adding The Music Man to my digital library, something I had neglected for a month or two. The CD had just been sitting there lol.

I also switched my digital file for "The Black Parade" to that of the uncensored CD, which I had purchased before I event started working over 2 months ago.

MAN I'M LAZY

I eventually get around to shit tho lol. I guess it's just a matter of priority.

What usually takes priority is digging through everything to find something that I forgot about but then remembered, making a mess in the process that I would then have to clean up, at least partially.

I think the album just ended. I've been writing for a while xD. I'ma start "I Made You Something" by The Island of the Misfit Toys.

I'll tell you where that album came from in a minute.

In the meantime, where was I?

I kinda lost my train of thought despite reading up to see where I was. Oh well. On I go.

I ate dinner and kept working on those CDs, eventually putting my clothes from the week into the washer.

I FORGOT TO PUT MY SHAPING UNDERWEAR IN. FUCKING HELL MAN.

I wanted to wash em for this week 😭

No tight pants for Leonna I guess qwq.

Meanwhile, the box of my CD album cases is overflowing. I need another box.

I keep all of the album artworks in a big CD folder. That's almost full.

I wanna fill my entire CD changer. That's one of my big goals in life. Idk why, but I just wanna legitimately fill the entire thing.

My clothes are in the dryer now. I don't think I have the time (or energy) to fold them tonight. I'll leave that for tomorrow morning before work.

And God. Fucking. Damnit. I start school again on Wednesday. NOT looking forward to that, and neither are my 2 coworkers. We already have low enough staff, but only the two of them working is gonna be a pain in the ass.

I'll still work Saturdays.

I need to contact my guidance counselor to get out of the gym class I signed up for. I scheduled this shit before I found out I was trans, and I don't wanna deal with the fucking locker room situation 🙄 I have far more important matters.

Okay so anyway, the album I'm listening to came from a cassette. I bought this cassette a few months ago at the flea market along with a few others. The reason I bought them? They were all newer cassette releases from the 2010's, and they're all actually pretty good music from very indie bands.

Currently getting mad at iBroadcast's compression algorithm. It's unnaturally fucking anything over -10db up. Oh well, there's not really anything I can do about it.

I have like 13GB of music on my phone btw. That's about 3.5k songs on 268 albums.

I'm kind of an audiophile, but I'm too cheap to pay for a lossless service. Oh well.

They do actually have a lossless service on iBroadcast, but once again, too cheap.

Someone just sent me a friend request who legitimately posted that BLM and the democratic party are hate groups.

BLOCK.

Goodbye ho.

I don't get that. They call the democratic party a hate group when they hate people like me, and I, being more of a democrat although not fully because the 2-party system is fucked, think nothing more of them than they're very wrong about certain things, especially, as shown, that black people, as well as asian, Indian, native, and people of all ethnicities and backgrounds, are not equal to white people.

Yeh.

Totally.

You go buddy.

Anyway, yeah, I can, and do, convert music and video from analog formats to digital files in order for me to archive and listen to whenever and wherever I please. I've actually made a bit of a business out of it, but I don't get too much work from it. At least I'm not overloading myself xD.

I honestly have so much more to say, but I should probably go to sleep soon.

A few final shoutouts to the following people and companies:

-Dollar Tree

-Steven Page

-Broken World Media

-The Island of Misfit Toys

-Simple Kid

-Punchline

-My incredible partner QwQ I love you so much. Thanks for being the best all the time. I hope I can give you the best life ever.

Anyway I suppose this is goodnight. Lmk if you want a full list of the CDs I bought today! I'll link that song by Steven Page here.

And here's a good song from Simple Kid

I really like music lol. Enjoy these pieces.

Anyway, goodnight lol.

Lots of love,

-Leonna.

[bangwoolofbangtan]

TIME

ENTERTAINER of the year

BTS

[Time magazine BTS interview ]

It’s late October, and Suga is sitting on a couch strumming a guitar. His feet are bare, his long hair falling over his eyes. He noodles around, testing out chords and muttering softly to himself, silver hoop earrings glinting in the light. “I just started learning a few months ago,” he says. It’s an intimate moment, the kind you’d spend with a new crush in a college dorm room while they confess rock-star ambitions. But Suga is one-seventh of the Korean pop band BTS, which means I’m just one of millions of fans watching, savoring the moment.

BTS isn’t just the biggest K-pop act on the charts. They’ve become the biggest band in the world—full stop. Between releasing multiple albums, breaking every type of record and appearing in these extemporaneous livestreams in 2020, BTS ascended to the zenith of pop stardom. And they did it in a year defined by setbacks, one in which the world hit pause and everyone struggled to maintain their connections. Other celebrities tried to leverage this year’s challenges; most failed. (Remember that star-studded “Imagine” video?) But BTS’s bonds to their international fan base, called ARMY, deepened amid the pandemic, a global racial reckoning and worldwide shutdowns. “There are times when I’m still taken aback by all the unimaginable things that are happening,” Suga tells TIME later. “But I ask myself, Who’s going to do this, if not us?”

Today, K-pop is a multibillion-dollar business, but for decades the gatekeepers of the music world—the Western radio moguls, media outlets and number-crunchers—treated it as a novelty. BTS hits the expected high notes of traditional K-pop: sharp outfits, crisp choreography and dazzling videos. But they’ve matched that superstar shine with a surprising level of honesty about the hard work that goes into it. BTS meets the demands of Top 40’s authenticity era without sacrificing any of the gloss that’s made K-pop a cultural force. It doesn’t hurt that their songs are irresistible: polished confections that are dense with hooks and sit comfortably on any mainstream playlist.

BTS is not the first Korean act to establish a secure foothold in the West, yet their outsize success today is indicative of a sea change in the inner workings of fandom and how music is consumed. From propelling their label to a $7.5 billion IPO valuation to inspiring fans to match their $1 million donation to Black Lives Matter, BTS is a case study in music-industry dominance through human connection. Once Suga masters the guitar, there won’t be much left for them to conquer.

In an alternate universe where COVID-19 didn’t exist, BTS’s 2020 would likely have looked much like the years that came before. The group got its start in 2010, after K-pop mastermind and Big Hit Entertainment founder Bang Si-hyuk recruited RM, 26, from Seoul’s underground rap scene. He was soon joined by Jin, 28; Suga, 27; J-Hope, 26; Jimin, 25; V, 24; and Jung Kook, 23, selected for their dancing, rapping and singing talents.

But unlike their peers, BTS had an antiestablishment streak, both in their activism and in the way they contributed to their songwriting and production—which was then rare in K-pop, although that’s started to change. In BTS’s debut 2013 single, “No More Dream,” they critiqued Korean social pressures, like the high expectations placed on schoolkids. They have been open about their own challenges with mental health and spoken publicly about their support for LGBTQ+ rights. (Same-sex marriage is still not legally recognized in South Korea.) And they’ve modeled a form of gentler, more neutral masculinity, whether dyeing their hair pastel shades or draping their arms lovingly over one another. All this has made them unique not just in K-pop but also in the global pop marketplace.

In March, BTS was prepping for a global tour. Instead, they stayed in Seoul to wait out the pandemic. For the group, life didn’t feel too different: “We always spend 30 days a month together, 10 hours a day,” Jin says. But with their plans upended, they had to pivot. In August, BTS dropped an English-language single, “Dynamite,” that topped the charts in the U.S.—a first for an all-Korean act. With their latest album this year, Be, they’ve become the first band in history to debut a song and album at No. 1 on Billboard’s charts in the same week. “We never expected that we would release another album,” says RM. “Life is a trade-off.”

Their triumphs this year weren’t just about the music. In October, they put on perhaps the biggest virtual ticketed show of all time, selling nearly a million tickets to the two-night event. Their management company went public in Korea, turning Bang into a billionaire and each of the members into millionaires, a rarity in an industry where the spoils often go to the distributors, not the creators. And they were finally rewarded with a Grammy nomination. On YouTube, where their Big Hit Labels is one of the top 10 most subscribed music accounts (with over 13 billion views by this year), their only real competition is themselves, says YouTube’s music-trends manager Kevin Meenan. The “Dynamite” video racked up 101 million views in under 24 hours, a first for the platform. “They’ve beaten all their own records,” he says.

Not that the glory comes without drawbacks: namely, lack of free time. It’s nearing midnight in Seoul in late November, and BTS, sans Suga, who’s recovering from shoulder surgery, are fitting in another interview—this time, just with me. V, Jimin and J-Hope spontaneously burst into song as they discuss Jin’s upcoming birthday. “Love, love, love,” they harmonize, making good use of the Beatles’ chorus, turning to their bandmate and crossing their fingers in the Korean version of the heart symbol.

Comparisons to that epoch-defining group are inevitable. “What’s different is that we’re seven, and we also dance,” says V. “It’s kind of like a cliché when big boy bands are coming up: ‘Oh, there’s another Beatles!’” says RM. I’ve interviewed BTS five times, and in every interaction, they are polite to a fault. But by now they must be weary of revisiting these comparisons, just as they must be tired of explaining their success. RM says it’s a mix of luck, timing and mood. “I’m not 100% sure,” he says.

They’ve matured into smart celebrities: focused and cautious, they’re both more ready for the questions and more hesitant to make big statements. When you ask BTS about their landmark year, for once they’re not exactly chipper; J-Hope wryly calls it a “roller coaster.” “Sh-t happens,” says RM. “It was a year that we struggled a lot,” says Jimin. Usually a showman, on this point he seems more introspective than usual. “We might look like we’re doing well on the outside with the numbers, but we do go through a hard time ourselves,” he says. For a group whose purpose is truly defined by their fans, the lack of human interaction has been stifling. Still, they’ve made it a point to represent optimism. “I always wanted to become an artist that can provide comfort, relief and positive energy to people,” says J-Hope. “That intent harmonized with the sincerity of our group and led us to who we are today.”

In an era marked by so much anguish and cynicism, BTS has stayed true to their message of kindness, connection and self-acceptance. That’s the foundation of their relationship with their fans. South Korean philosopher and author Dr. Jiyoung Lee describes the passion of BTS’s fandom as a phenomenon called “horizontality,” a mutual exchange between artists and their fans. As opposed to top-down instruction from an icon to their followers, BTS has built a true community. “Us and our fans are a great influence on each other,” says J-Hope. “We learn through the process of making music and receiving feedback.” The BTS fandom isn’t just about ensuring the band’s primacy—it’s also about extending the band’s message of positivity into the world. “BTS and ARMY are a symbol of change in zeitgeist, not just of generational change,” says Lee.

And in June, BTS became a symbol of youth activism worldwide after they donated $1 million to the Black Lives Matter movement amid major protests in the U.S. (They have a long track record of supporting initiatives like UNICEF and school programs.) BTS says now it was simply in support of human rights. “That was not politics. It was related to racism,” Jin says. “We believe everyone deserves to be respected. That’s why we made that decision.”

That proved meaningful for fans like Yassin Adam, 20, an ARMY from Georgia who runs popular BTS social media accounts sharing news and updates, and who is Black. “It will bring more awareness to this issue people like me face in this country,” he says. “I see myself in them, or at least a version of myself.” In May and June, a broad coalition of K-pop fans made headlines for interfering with a police app and buying out tickets for a Trump campaign rally, depleting the in-person attendance. Later that summer, ARMY’s grassroots fundraising effort matched BTS’s $1 million donation to Black Lives Matter within 24 hours.

For 28-year-old Nicole Santero, who is Asian American, their success in the U.S. is also a triumph of representation: “I never really saw people like myself on such a mainstream stage,” Santero says. She’s writing her doctoral dissertation on the culture of BTS fandom, and she runs a popular Twitter account that analyzes and shares BTS data. “Anytime I’m awake, I’m doing something related to BTS,” she says. “This is a deeper kind of love.”

Devotion like that is a point of pride for BTS, particularly in a year when so much has felt uncertain. “We’re not sure if we’ve actually earned respect,” RM says. “But one thing for sure is that [people] feel like, O.K., this is not just some kind of a syndrome, a phenomenon.” He searches for the right words. “These little boys from Korea are doing this.” —With reporting by Aria Chen/Hong Kong; Mariah Espada/Washington; Sangsuk Sylvia Kang and Kat Moon/New York

FASHION CREDITS

RM: Jacket, shirt, pants and shoes HERMES; SUGA: Jacket, shirt and necklace CELINE. Pants GIVENCHY. Shoes LOUIS VUITTON; Jung Kook: Jacket, shirt, pants and shoes FENDI; J-Hope: Jacket, shirt, pants and shoes LOUIS VUITTON. Necklace HERMES; Jin: Suit, knit top and shoes BALENCIAGA; Jimin: Jacket, silk shirt, pants and shoes CELINE; V: Suit, shirt and shoes ALEXANDER McQUEEN. Tie THOM BROWNE.

[patricksmusicblog]

PMB Favorites: My Favorite Albums of 2020

2020 was largely year of changes that brought on a heightened sense of stress and anxiety in my life (and a lot of peoples lives as well) but when I needed it music was there to provide escapism or to color the grim and uncertain mood the year tended to bring. Here are the albums that were the soundtrack to my 2020(In no particular order). I welcome all musical recommendations.

. Squarepusher- Be Up, Hello: Squarepusher returned early in 2020 with a hard-hitting drum and bass album, filled with bright textures and poly-rhythms. The albums both exhilarating and intense listen at times. Love “Speedcrank” and “Voltrack”

Oneohtrix Point Never- Magic Oneohtrix Point Never: Released in the 4th quarter of the year Oneohtrix Point Never came through with an album strongly inspired by his love of radio growing up Magic 106.7 to be specific. The result is an album of diverse styles of pop, rock, hip-hop etc blended into the plunder-phonics that Oneohtrix fans have come to know, great project.

Lady Gaga- Chromatica: Chromatica is Lady Gaga's triumphant return to dance-pop after getting personal with Joanne (2016) and doing the Star is Born soundtrack. Chromatica, like Gaga's early work, is packed with hits and catchy tunes, i.e., the Ariana Grande assisted "Rain on Me" and "Stupid love," a great pop album and one of my favorite albums from Lady Gaga thus far. 

TOPS-I Feel Alive: Tops are a band that has been progressing with each release. This album is a beautiful mix of indie-pop/dream pop that features the summery title track and the brisk synth-driven "Colder and Closer." It is one of the better indie-pop releases this year. 

Dream Wife-So When You Gonna...”:  Dream Wife typically has a high octane and raucous sound. So When You Gonna... calms things down a bit. They go more in-depth on this project with songs about keeping sexual agency, not seeking validation from others, and staying true to yourself. It has nearly the energy of their previous self titled LP but with lyrical depth.

Hinds-The Prettiest Curse: Hinds have gotten better with every album. The Prettiest Curse is their best thus far. The Prettiest Curse finds them expanding their sound with more lavish production and some synth-pop in there to go along with their garage rock sound. A few Great tracks on here but "Good Bad Times" and "Take Me Back" are amongst my favorites. 

Nas- King’s Disease: Nas's Kings Disease maybe the best Nas release since at least Untitled and probably since the early 00s. A lot of that has to do with producer Hit-Boy who provided Nas the canvas to create a wise and timely album. "Ultra Black," "Til the War is Won" with Lil Durk, and "10 Points" are amongst my favorites on the album. 

Westside Gunn- Pray for Paris: Griselda Records was dominant in 2020. Westside Gunn is a big part of that in that he released two great albums this year. The first of which was the menacing but luxurious Pray for Paris. The beats are hard and classy, and Westside's rhymes are both street and opulent/artful. "$500 Ounces", "Shawn vs. Flair," "George Bando," and "327″ are essential. 

Westside- Gunn- Who Made The Sunshine: The second great album by Westside was Who Made The Sunshine. This album is a darker ominous project that sounds like quintessential Griselda. Built for grey skies and dark times, it was great on overcast days late this year. "The Butcher and the Blade," "98 Sabers and "All Praises" are my favorites on this one.

Conway The Machine- From a King to a God:  Conway The Machine's From a King to a God may be the best album from the camp this year. It's an album that spans both street tales, introspection, and some social commentary. It's also found Conway getting as personal as he's gotten any album thus far. The album features high-level production from Hit-Boy, Daringer, DJ Premier, etc. "Spurs 3″, "Dough & Damani", are my favorites here.

Benny The Butcher-Burden of Proof: Rounding out the Griselda releases to make my 2020 favorites is Benny The Butcher's Burden of Proof. Burden of Proof is handled 100% by Hit-Boy, who gives Benny's hard-nosed rhymes a bit of pristine sheen without taking anything away from Benny's style. There's no real reaching here, and it ends up being an album that shows Benny can be versatile. "One Way Flight," "Timeless," "War Paint," and "Legend" rank amongst my favorites on the album.

Freddie Gibbs- Alfredo:  Been following Freddie Gibbs since Pinata with Madlib in 2014, and it seems as though he hasn't missed since. I loved his 2019 project Bandanna, and Alfredo is another excellent project. Alchemist handles the production here and does a great job providing a backdrop for Freddie's fluid and vivid rhymes. There's the measured reminiscing of "Babies & Fools," the soaring "1985″, the shadowy menace of "God is Perfect," essential hip-hop listens for 2020. 

Royce Da 5′9-Allegory: Royce Da 5′9 follows up his excellent Book of Ryan (not to mention PRhyme with DJ Premier) with Allegory. While his last album was decidedly a personal effort, this one finds him using his lyrical gymnastics on being the best and spitting knowledge on what's going on in rap and in general. "I Play Forever," "Tricked," "Overcomer" are the favorites here. 

Princess Nokia- Everything is Beautiful: Everything is Beautiful is in my opinion, the better of two albums; Princess Nokia released in the early part of 2020, an album that finds Princess Nokia reflecting on what made her coming up in her childhood. Elastic flows and charisma with eclectic production from the likes of Adam Pallin and Tony Seltzer. Favorite cuts on this are "Green Eggs and Ham," "Wash and Sets," and "The Conclusion."

Logic-No Pressure:  Logic came full circle on this album from 2014 Under Pressure to his current and (for now) final release No Pressure. No Pressure may be his best album. It's consistent all the way through, it wears its influences on its sleeve than previous albums, and it's not a knee-jerk reaction album done based on what people want from him, and it's not corny. It feels closest to pure Logic that sounds like he's just spitting about where he's at in life(dadbod) and finding peace within himself. I love this LP. 

Jeezy- Recession 2: Jeezy's one of those rappers that is just solid, you know what to expect, thunderous beats, hood motivation music. Even still, Jeezy's music continues to mature as he does, touching on the ills of the ghetto, police brutality, and putting your monetary priorities in the right place. "Modern Day," "Back," "Almighty Black Dollar" are amongst my favorites here. 

Roc Marciano- Mt. Marci:  Roc Marciano's Mt. Marci is a darkly beautiful album. The album features collages of different soundscapes that are generally classy and ominous. Of course, Roc's stoic monotone flow continuously reeling off-kilter references and punchlines is the album's centerpiece. Roc's flow is just cold-blooded. "Covid Cough," "Downtown 81″, "Wheat 40s", and "Butterfly Effect" are among the livest tracks on this album, in my opinion. 

Run The Jewels-RTJ4: Killer Mike and EL-P kill it every time they drop, and RTJ4 is no different. It's another album of high octane/great beats from EL-P and essential bars from Killer Mike and EL-P. As you'd expect, RTJ speaks to lots of issues going on today while at the same time going crazy to one-up each other bar for bar. "Ooh La La," "Out of Sight," "Never Look Back," and "Pulling the Pin" are the highlights of the project to my ears. 

Megan Thee Stallion-Good News: Megan Thee Stallion has been dope since Tina Snow.  Whether it's Fever or Suga, you can expect both skill and top-notch charisma and confidence from Meg’. If you've heard those projects, you know you can expect to hear Meg taking explicit agency of her sexuality, partying, rappin' her ass off, and generally commanding these tracks. There's also the drama with Tory Lanez, but the album, fortunately, isn't weighed down with ways about that. Favorites on this album include "Shots Fired," "Savage(Remix), "Movie," "Girls In The Hood."

21 Savage & Metro Boomin- Savage Mode II: 21 Savage and Metro Boomin's original Savage Mode was bleak and brooding enough to launch 21 Savage careers, and this one is similarly cold-hearted. Still, there are more varied styles of savagery here, whether we're talking the 80′s inspired "Steppin' On Niggas” or the more pop-orientated "Mr. Right Now" or the inspirational/introspective "Said N Done."

[thedeaditeslayer]

Bruce Campbell talks ‘Evil Dead,’ ‘Spider-Man,’ ‘Xena’

mm

The first time Bruce Campbell came across Sam Raimi, they were students at Michigan’s West Maple Junior High School.

“Sam was a year younger than me,” Campbell recalls, “and I remember him dressed as Sherlock Holmes playing with dolls in the middle of the floor. And I remember going way around him. And I found out later that it was Sam Raimi. We didn’t really come into contact until we got until high school.”

What a connection they made. After bonding over D.I.Y. filmmaking, Campbell and Raimi went on to do 1978 shoestring horror-short “Within the Woods” together, which they evolved into 1981 demonic thriller “Evil Dead.”

Campbell would periodically reprise signature “Evil Dead” character Ash Williams in various sequels and offshoots. And appear in Raimi-produced “Xena: Warrior Princess,” portraying slippery “king of thieves” Autolycus on that ’90s-iconic TV fantasy epic.

And then there’s Campbell’s memorable cameos in Raimi’s blockbuster, Tobey Maguire-starring “Spider-Man” film trilogy: the ring announced in the first, 2002 film, “snooty usher” in the 2004 sequel and a maître d’ in 2007′s “Spider-Man 3.”

Of course, Campbell’s made a mark outside that dynamic duo. He drew raves for his portrayal of a nursing-home-bound Elvis Presley in 2002 indie comedy-horror gem, “Bubba Ho-Tep.” Then there’s his role of Sam Axe on USA Network spy drama “Burn Notice.” Not to mention numerous other film, TV, voice acting and even video-game work.

The cult-fave actor will make his first ever trip to Huntsville this week, for Oct. 24 events at Von Braun Center’s Mark C. Smith Concert Hall featuring “Evil Dead” screenings followed by a Campbell-led chat about the film, his life as an actor and beyond. Tickets for these 3 and 7:30 p.m. events start at $32, via ticketmaster.com.

His upcoming projects include a comedy album with actor Ted Raimi, Sam’s brother, called “The Lost Recordings.” Campbell also is readying a book of essays called “The Cool Side of My Pillow,” which finds him riffing on subjects ranging from noise to the environment. He hopes to have both released by the end of this year. More info at bruce-campbell.com. On a recent afternoon, Campbell checked in from his Oregon home for a phone interview. Edited excerpts are below.

Bruce, when you do an “Evil Dead” screening event, do your discussions turn up new things about the film or that you haven’t thought of in a long time?

Every show turns up something new because it puts you on the spot. Someone will say something that will then trigger something that you had forgot. I just sat down the other day before one of these shows with my guy who is my frontman and I was like, “OK, l’m just going to tell the story of making this movie.” It’s not for questions I’m just going to tell you basically what you’re about to see. But yeah, every show triggers some new thing. I’ve seen the movie. I know how it ends. But that is the challenge, finding some new, weird tidbits.

Back in high school how did you and Sam Raimi first bond? Did you share a class or something?

Basically I got into typing class, that’s what started it. I could not believe I was stuck in this stupid class where everyone around me seemed to know how to type. I’m like, “How do you know this?” It was very frustrating. So I went to a counselor for the first time ever – I’d never gone to try to get out of anything.

So I go there and I say, “Hey can I drop this dumb typing class?” She goes, "Yeah, what do you want? I go, “What do you got?” So she comes up with “radio speech.” And I’m like, “Radio speech? Wait they do the morning announcements (at school) and stuff?” and I’m like yeah let me get all over that.

So I got into a class and Sam Raimi was also in the class. And the guy who taught radio speech also directed all the plays. We didn’t know how critical that was. The first year I couldn’t get in anything in my high school. I was auditioning for everything but I didn’t have a class with this guy. By the next year I had a class with him, and then me and Sam were in basically all the plays after that. We found out how the deal worked.

So I met him in radio speech and we’d do the morning announcements together and got to talking about what we do in our neighborhoods. I was making little regular-8 (millimeter film) movies and Sam was making Super-8 movies. So we started to join forces during the course of that high school run, that two or three years in there.

We were very productive. We didn’t really get into trouble because we were too busy like filming parties. We wouldn’t go to the parties we’d film the parties and use them in some way in our little films so it was a great guerrilla filmmaking period.

A celeb or well-known person you were surprised to learn they’re an “Evil Dead” fan?

I heard Charlie Sheen, one of his favorite things was to smoke a doobie and watch “Evil Dead 2,” and Alice Cooper’s favorite horror movie is “Evil Dead.”

If it’s good enough for Alice Cooper it’s good enough for me. You host the quiz show “Last Fan Standing.” What do you make of the mainstreaming of nerd-culture?

Every generation has its deal. In the ’40s most moviegoers were in their 40s and so the actors were in their 40s. Humphrey Bogart and Spencer Tracy and all the guys were in their 40s. You didn’t have to be 21. And then as the audience got younger the actors got younger and the people who run the companies get younger and so they’re really just catering to what’s popular.

Comic books have always been popular but now they’re really popular. Not really sure what that’s all about but yeah social media has certainly helped but I think it’s another form of escapism. Whenever times get weird, people want escapism. During The Depression they did the Busby Berkeley splashy musicals where everyone was happy all the time, when life was really miserable. And some decades where we’re really doing okay, the movies turned introspective and we go after ourselves and figure out why we’re like this and like that. And so I think we’re in a phase where we just want to be taken away to another galaxy and Marvel is very happy to help.

And you’ve been a part of that. In Sam’s “Spider-Man” trilogy, which of your cameos did you have the most fun with?

Well I don’t know it’s hard to lineate because they’re so critical. The first one I named Spider-Man. If I wasn’t in the movie a billion dollar franchise would be called The Human Spider. He wants to get in the theater in the second one, past the snooty usher who won’t let him in because he’s late, because it will spoil the illusion, so I think I’m technically the only character who’s ever defeated Spider-Man. And in part three, a superhero comes to a mortal for help. He wants me to help him propose to his girlfriend so it’s sort of a landmark case where a superhero goes to a mortal for help which is pretty rare. So I can’t delineate because they’re all critical to the “Spider-Man” universe.

Do you have any cool mementos from "Evil Dead or elsewhere from your career? Maybe something like the chainsaw from “Evil Dead 2”?

You know, it’s weird I’m not a hoarder, I’m not a collector. My brother, he has the shotgun from “Evil Dead,” but not because he loves movie trivia, he just likes guns. My brother also has I think the set of keys to the original cabin. That’s a pretty good one. Not sure how he got that one.

I have weirder ones. Like I have a prop from a 1989 movie called “Sundown: The Vampire in Retreat.” I have Van Helsing’s holy bottle where he shakes the holy water at them. And I have what I call my tchotchke shelf, where most people would look at it and they couldn’t identify what importance each item is, but there’s a story for each one.

Some of your favorite actors outside the horror genre?

Oh, I l love a lot of the old time actors. William Holden, he starred in “Bridge on The River Kwai” one of my favorite movies. I like the guys who had to work a lot. In the old days and actor would finish a job on Friday he was under contract, he took two weeks off and started a new movie a couple weeks later. Actors kind of just do one or two movies a year if they’re lucky these days and it doesn’t help them refine their craft.

I feel like the guys who worked a lot got good because they got really used to the process. I’m a fan of the studio system. Not all movies were good and not every actor was happy under the studio system, but I think a busy actor’s a good actor.

For your role in “Bubba Ho-Tep,” what was your process for tapping into Elvis’s vibe?

What guy doesn’t want to be Elvis, you know? So I worked with an Elvis impersonator for about a half an hour and then he gave up on me. He goes, “Look, man, you’re never going to get it.” I’m like, “Wow either I suck or you suck as a teacher but somebody here sucks.”

No, but I watched a bunch of footage and documentaries. There’s a good one, all his Memphis Mafia who worked with him, a filmmaker basically got them all drunk one night and interviewed them all and that’s where the good stories are. You learn a little more of the human side of him. But that’s pretty much it. I’ve never been a stage performer so mercifully there wasn’t that much of it, just in quick flashbacks.

And there’s a part of me, in the back of my mind, I want to know that Elvis' descendants, somebody, a daughter, niece, somebody has watched that movie and approved. We’ll see.

I thought it was a cool creative take on that whole Elvis thing.

I agree. That’s why I did it. It was one of the weirdest scripts I’ve ever read But yet it wraps up though. It has a weird premise but it has a really interesting theme of what do you do with old people. Do we forget these old people? And are they still useful in society, old people? And I thought it had a sweet ending, that these two old guys they kind of rally themselves one more time.

What’s a well-known role you’ve turned down?

Turned down? I don’t have a lot of those. I don’t operate in that rarified air of saying, “Oh I turned ‘Titanic’ down.” I tried to get a part in a studio movie called “The Phantom” and Billy Zane wound up getting the part." And it was down to me and Billy, I was number two for the job, but I didn’t really enjoy the process very much because it seemed more political than actually acting. It was amazing how many people you had to audition for, and you had to go up the ranks and each time it got a little more tense as you move up. So I’m good doing these weirdo little movies.

I read the budget for “Within the Woods,” the predecessor of “Evil Dead,” was a princely 1,600 bucks. What was the most expensive line item, you think?

Food and probably fake blood. Tom Sullivan, who did the special effects, probably needed to mold a few things, so he probably spent a couple hundred bucks on molds. A lot of it was footage because Sam Raimi likes to shoot footage, so we probably bought a lot of rolls of film. And we did go to a cabin to shoot it, so had to get in the car and travel so maybe a little gas money in there too. That’s about it.

What can you tell us about the status of the next installment of the “Evil Dead” franchise?

We’re honing-in, circling the building now trying to lock in a partner. We have a couple of bidders and we’re trying to just find the correct suitor and we have a script written and a director picked. Sam Raimi hand -picked a guy named Lee Cronin, who’s a very good Irish filmmaker. And it’s got a very good modern tale. It’s a modern-day urban “Evil Dead,” it’s called “Evil Dead Rise.” And we’re hoping to do that next year.

You were a producer on 2013 “Evil Dead” remake. What’s the key to making a reboot effective?

Well rebooting can be very confusing and frustrating and not always successful. Reboot, sequel, remake we have all these crazy terms. What we’re doing now is we’re saying," Look, this is another ‘Evil Dead’ movie and that book gets around, a lot of people run into it and it’s another story." The main key with “Evil Dead” is they’re just regular people who are battling what seems to be a very unstoppable evil, and so that’s where the horror comes from. It’s not someone who’s skilled. They’re not fighting a soldier. They’re not fighting a scientist. They’re not fighting anybody more than your average neighbor. This one is going to be a similar thing. We’re going to have a heroine, a woman in charge, and she’s going to try and save her family.

Speaking of a female protagonist, when you’re at a con or meet fans somewhere, who has the most passionate superfans: “Evil Dead” or “Xena”?

“Xena” hits them at an emotional level. Like, they’ll come up to me and Lucy Lawless (the actor who played the show’s title role) and just burst into tears, because her character helped them get through a difficult time. “Xena” is more representative of overcoming your struggles in life. “Evil Dead” fans are pretty fervent but they don’t cry as much.

[aliciameade]

A Thousand Cuts

Title: A Thousand Cuts Author: aliciameade Rating: M for alcoholism and angst Pairing: Beca/Chloe Summary: Beca doesn't realize she needs to get her shit together until it's too late, or, my take on a prompt I was sent to write something based on Taylor Swift’s “Death by a Thousand Cuts.”

Also on AO3

My heart, my hips, my body, my love / Trying to find a part of me that you didn't touch

Gave up on me like I was a bad drug / Now I'm searching for signs in a haunted club

Our songs, our films, united, we stand / Our country, guess it was a lawless land 

Quiet my fears with the touch of your hand / Paper cut stings from my paper-thin plans 

My time, my wine, my spirit, my trust / Trying to find a part of me you didn't take up 

Gave you so much, but it wasn't enough / But I'll be alright, it's just a thousand cuts

“You don’t mean that.” Beca’s voice cracks over the words; she’s moments from crying and she knows it.

Chloe’s already crying. “The hell I don’t.” Her voice is steady despite the tears. Her jaw is set, the muscles in her left cheek tensing with how hard she’s clenching it.

“Where am I supposed to go?” That’s when the first tear finally hits Beca’s cheek. They don’t stop after that and she doesn’t bother trying to wipe them away. “I don’t know anyone else here!”

“That’s not my problem.” Chloe walks away so abruptly, steps so heavy it makes Beca jump. She’s digging through the trunk that sits at the foot of their bed and pulls out Beca’s duffel bag to toss it onto the bed. “Pack. And get the rest of your shit out before the end of the month whenever I’m not here or I’m throwing it all away.”

Beca’s sure this must be what it feels like for the earth to swallow one whole. Her world’s been ripped out from beneath her feet.

The thing is, it’s her fault. She can’t argue that it’s not. She could have tried harder, not allowed herself to grow complacent. Chloe was someone who loves with her entire being, every inch of her soul. And Beca adores her. Loves her. But she has struggled to keep up with just how much Chloe needs from her in return for all the love she gives Beca. Truth be told, it’s scared the shit out of Beca since the day they exchanged their first ‘I love yous.’ She had even prefaced her confession by saying she will probably mess it all up.

Fucking self-fulfilling prophecies.

“I’m going for a walk,” Chloe says as she pushes past Beca more physically than necessary. “Don’t be here when I get back.”

When the door slams behind her, Beca fights the urge to crumple onto their bed and weep. They’d just made love on it this morning and she thinks if she touches it, it may burn her flesh.

Instead, she grabs the bag Chloe threw onto it and starts stuffing clothes and toiletries into it. Her head pounds and her chest aches with the need to sob but she won’t give this tiny apartment, their first home together as a couple. She fills the bag until she can’t zip it and throws her laptop into its case to swing them both over her shoulder.

On her way out the door, she rips a photo of the two of them in front of their Christmas tree last year off the fridge—not to destroy it, but to stuff it into her bag.

She wonders if Chloe will even notice it’s gone.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Beca takes the train into Manhattan. Brooklyn feels too small, too familiar. She wants the city to swallow her since the earth only pretended to. She doesn’t have a single New York-based contact in her phone except for the ramen house Chloe and she love and the main number for her office. She doesn’t particularly like her job and has made no effort to get to know anyone there. 

In the future, she’ll realize this could be a theme in her life.

She ends up at a hotel by Union Square. She can’t afford it. It’s nearly $200 for the night and it goes on an already precariously charged-up credit card. She’ll move to a hostel tomorrow; tonight, she needs privacy and space and the freedom to have the breakdown she’s been staving off for the two hours it’s been since Chloe told her it was over and threw her out of their home.

Once she gets to her room, she drops her bags on the floor and immediately throws up.

It’s the longest night of Beca’s life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

She doesn’t get the rest of her belongings back. She’s living in a hostel in a room she shares with five other people, at least one of which is new every night. She has to wait her turn to use the bathroom and to shower and most of the time, there’s no hot water.

The good thing, she supposes as she tries day after day to find a single good thing in her life, is that at $35 per day, she can actually afford her room and board and even feed herself twice a day and keep her phone bill paid.

Thank God for ubiquitous free WiFi.

But that one good thing, just keeping herself in room and board, doesn’t do anything to outweigh all the bad.

She hasn’t spoken to or heard from Chloe in two months. There was no final warning about coming to get her belongings or they’d be trashed. Chloe hasn’t checked in with her a single time.

Not that Beca’s reached out to Chloe either.

She’d thought escaping Brooklyn would help protect herself. Far from away all their usual haunts, she would be safer from the constant reminders of all the moments she and Chloe shared in the year-and-a-half they spent living together there.

Instead, she’s faced with bigger reminders in Manhattan. So many date nights spent there at restaurants and concert venues and theatres and sunset strolls through parks.

“Oh, my gosh, baby, this is so romantic, we have to take a selfie,” Chloe said as she grabbed Beca’s hands to spin them in a circle that almost had Beca tripping over her own feet. “Wait, no! Excuse me, sir?” Chloe asked a passerby. “Would you take our picture, please?”

“Sure,” he said as Chloe handed him her phone. “Tell me when.”

“Just take a bunch,” Chloe answered before Beca had even had a chance to weakly and pointlessly protest the impromptu photoshoot.

Then they were kissing on Gapstow Bridge with Central Park and the New York skyline behind them and Beca forgot why she would ever want to protest such a thing.

She can’t even walk through Times Square without her eyes pricking with tears at the memory of Chloe dragging Beca up the red stairs in the middle of a snowstorm to take a selfie at the top while they kissed wearing beanies and scarves and gloves.

The photo came out looking like they were in a snow globe and felt as magical as it looked. It’s saved in her favorites on her phone, but she refuses to let herself look through that album.

Even when she’s alone at night in a strange place that is her home but feels nothing like it, Chloe is everywhere. She can feel her phantom arms around her waist to pull Beca back against her to settle into sleep. In the shower, her hands travel over her body and she remembers all the times and all the ways Chloe has touched her here, and here, and here.

Alcohol doesn’t help, though Beca gives it her best shot.

It leads to her waking up in the beds of people whose names she only sometimes remembers.

A man she goes home with makes her leave when she won’t stop crying when he tries to touch her.

A woman she goes home with spends the night holding her. They even have sex, finally, in the early hours of the morning. But all Beca can think about is how it’s not right. How she isn’t Chloe and she doesn’t know how to touch Beca as Chloe does. It does nothing to help Beca forget or move on. In fact, it only makes her miss Chloe more.

She stops trying to escape into other people and goes back to drinking alone. It’s cheaper that way, too, which is a nice bonus. One bottle of whiskey runs her $40 which gives her far more drinks for her dollar compared to going to bars.

Eventually, she finds someone in need of a roommate through a coworker and she has a room to herself in Washington Heights. Her roommate is nice, a few years older than Beca, and works for the city’s child services department. She’s a good listener on the rare occasions Beca confides in her when her emotions become too much to take alone.

It turns into a relationship of convenience. They both acknowledge that’s what it is and that they’re setting themselves up for disaster if (when) it ends because someone (Beca) is going to have to move out when things become too messy.

But until that happens, it’s nice to feel at least somewhat normal again. She doesn’t feel like she’s ready to fall apart if someone looks at her the wrong way on the street.

She still thinks about Chloe at least once every minute when she’s conscious.

And usually, even when she’s not.

She knows she’s fixating. It’s too hard to not spend as much energy as she can berating herself for messing up and losing Chloe. It’s delicious torture to hate herself so much and replay the details of every moment of their relationship and pick out every time she fucked up and think about how she could have done it differently, how she would do it differently if she had the chance.

What’s most irritating of all is that there is no one singular cataclysmic event she can blame. It was her series of micro-aggressions, so seemingly small (to Beca), that piled up until replying to Chloe’s multi-scroll-long text message telling Beca that she needed more from her with “k” got her thrown out on the street.

And she knew—knows—she deserved it.

She wishes she could go back in time and slap herself and tell her to get her shit together before she loses the best thing to ever happen to her.

But she can’t. She keeps drinking and it’s never enough to forget Chloe.

Eventually, her behavior lands her out on her ass again, but this time, she expects it. What girl wants her not-girlfriend crying about her ex every time they have sex? At least there’s a discussion first and she’s allowed a couple of weeks to find a new place to live.

A year has passed since she fucked up her relationship with Chloe but, somehow, she’s managed to get her professional life into something resembling moderate success. She’s surprised when she downloads bank statements at the balance in her account to have when she goes apartment hunting. She’s done nothing but pay rent to her now-ex-roommate and buy what few things she’s needed to get by (mostly alcohol). She thinks she remembers an email from HR about a bonus or royalty payout around Christmas…?

It affords her the ability to get her own apartment, a one-bedroom in Harlem.

It also affords her the freedom to indulge in all her vices without someone passing judgment. She can drink herself to blackout. She can have anonymous sex. She can cry until she’s sick or lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling all night in a drug-and-alcohol-induced stupor. None of it really matters, anyway.

She fits right in with the people she’s finding herself forced to be around more often. She gets wasted with colleagues and A-listers under the guise of networking. She impresses men with her ability to out-drink them despite her stature. And if one of them offers cocaine? She can be the last one standing in the early hours of the morning.

She prides herself on her endurance, though not more than she prides herself on the fact that no matter how hammered she gets, not once has she drunk-dialed Chloe to beg forgiveness.

She hasn’t dialed her at all, for that matter.

She’s never apologized.

She wants to point out that showing up at her former apartment building when it’s dark and the streets are empty repeatedly pressing the buzzer for what used to be her apartment is not drunk-dialing nor drunk-texting.

“Hello?” Chloe’s voice crackles through the shitty speaker and Beca slumps against the wall next to the metal intercom at the sound of it. “Is anyone there? I swear if you kids are pulling this shit again, I’m calling the cops.”

Beca laughs to herself, memories of a group of teenagers that roams the neighborhood raising havoc of the relatively painless variety. Things like Ding Dong Ditch and hiding delivered packages from their recipients. It always infuriated Chloe and made Beca laugh and tell her to calm down, they’re just kids and they could be getting into much worse kinds of trouble.

She considers continuing to ring the buzzer just to keep Chloe on the line; it’s been so long since she’s heard her voice. Maybe she could just sleep on the building’s stoop?

She’s still thinking about it when she hears the familiar squeak of the door opening.

“Beca?”

She wonders if maybe she finally passed out to slip into dreamland because Chloe’s standing in front of her in plaid sleep shorts and Beca’s favorite vintage David Bowie tee.

“Hey, babe,” she slurs.

“What are you doing here?” Chloe takes half a step out of the door and starts to reach for her but stops short. “Are you drunk?”

“What if I am?” she says as she pushes herself away from the wall to stand upright again, though everything feels like it’s tilting. She points. “That’s my shirt.”

Chloe crosses her arms over her chest as if that will hide it. “I asked what you’re doing here.”

Beca has to think hard. She doesn’t remember how she got to Brooklyn. She doesn’t know what time it is. “I’m tired,” she answers. “I came home.”

“You don’t live here anymore.”

“I didn’t say I live here. I said I came home.” She tries to walk forward but trips and finds herself caught by Chloe before she hurts herself. “Cat-like reflexes,” she says with a chuckle before catching the scent of the laundry detergent and lotion Chloe always uses and the tears come out of nowhere.

She’s vaguely aware that Chloe’s helping her walk and it’s up the stairs and into the apartment they once shared, not out to the curb.

The last thought that passes through her mind as Chloe helps her into what was always Beca’s side of the bed is that even through her blurry vision she can see a picture on the refrigerator. A copy of the same photo she’d taken with her the day Chloe had thrown her out, placed in the exact place the original had been for so long.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

She wakes to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Her head throbs but not too painfully; she rarely gets hungover these days. She knows where she is. She knows the feel of the bed, the softness of the sheets, the scent of breakfast and the sound of the quiet tings and thuds of cabinets opening and closing, of plates, mugs, spoons, and knives.

She doesn’t want to open her eyes. Maybe if she pretends to be asleep she could stay there all day without having to be embarrassed by her actions. She can just hold onto this unexpected return to a past life for a few more minutes before it’s ripped away from her again.

She starts when the sound of a mug being placed on the nightstand near her head comes unexpectedly.

“Morning,” Chloe’s quiet, husky morning voice whispers as she sits on the edge of the bed next to Beca.

Beca grimaces and pulls the covers up over her head. “No.”

“I have to go to work.” Beca didn’t even think about the fact that it was a weekday. Her own schedule doesn’t conform to the typical Monday-through-Friday model. “But I’m going to call out sick for the afternoon and come back at lunch.”

Beca slips the covers down until they’re under her chin. She knows she looks like shit but Chloe looks more beautiful than she remembers her.

“You can stay here until then. Help yourself to breakfast. We’ll talk when I get home, okay?”

Beca just nods, afraid that anything more than that will wake her from whatever dream she’s having. She feels Chloe’s hand on her leg, a brief touch before she’s leaving too soon.

Beca watches her gather her things and leave the apartment, locking it with her keys.

She knows she should go back to sleep. Sleep off the last bits of the drunkenness she can still feel swimming in her. But she’s been thrown back into her old life, her old home, and like so many mornings, Chloe’s just gone to work after making coffee for Beca.

Slowly, she sits up to take in her surroundings. The small studio looks much like she’s remembered it. There’s a lot more of Chloe in it now, though. More photos of her and friends Beca’s never met. The band posters Beca had insisted on putting up have been replaced with generic canvas prints from Target that feature the Eiffel Tower and a recreation of a poster for la tournée du Chat Noir avec Rodolphe Salis. It makes her smile; Chloe’s always had an obsession with Paris and it had only gotten worse after they went to Denmark—but not France—in college.

Driven by her roiling stomach she forces herself out of bed. When she stands, she has to do a double-take looking down at herself. She’s not wearing the clothes she’d left her apartment in yesterday. She’s not even wearing pants. Her legs are bare and she plucks at the shirt she’s wearing to see it’s one of her old concert tees.

A memory flashes of last night, of Chloe in the doorway wearing Beca’s shirt.

It makes her feel lightheaded and she reaches for the coffee Chloe’s left bedside before crossing the room to the kitchen. Everything’s still in the same place and it’s mindless yet spine-tingling to go through the motions of finding something to eat in that room just as she’s done countless times in the past.

She plops down at the small table that she once imagined proposing to Chloe over on a Sunday morning over a cozy winter brunch they prepared together and is about to dig into her bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch that Chloe miraculously has on-hand despite claiming to hate it when she freezes, spoon halfway to her mouth.

On the clothing rack in the middle of the room, the one they had to fight over for valuable space, hang all of Beca’s clothes she’d left behind when she was forced to flee.

Her chair screeches as she pushes it back to rush over and quickly flip through the blouses, pants, and dresses she hasn’t seen in more than a year. She tugs open the third and then fourth drawers of the dresser they shared to find them both still stuffed full of underwear, bras, socks, tank tops, shorts, and Beca’s beanies and gloves she’d really missed that winter. She drops to her knees and reaches under the bed to find the sharp plastic edge of a storage bin and pulls it out. All her shoes, still in their place.

If not for the changes in decor, she would believe she never left. Nothing has changed since her last morning with Chloe.

It’s overwhelming. Chloe had threatened to throw everything away if Beca never picked it up. Beca never did, but Chloe didn’t follow through.

Her head swims and her eyes prick with tears. She thinks she might be sick from the rush of emotions and adrenaline; Chloe hadn’t tossed their life in the trash even though she’d tossed Beca to the curb.

She isn’t sick, though. Instead, she strips off her shirt and crawls into the bathtub and turns on the shower to sit under the spray and cry.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Beca’s heart races when she hears Chloe’s keys in the hallway seconds before they rattle in the lock. She watches the door open slowly, Chloe peeking in carefully until they find Beca sitting at the table.

“You’re awake,” she says as she enters with less care now that Beca’s not asleep. “Did you find something to eat? I brought lunch just in case.”

Beca’s eyes drop to the bag in Chloe’s hand; there are familiar round plastic take-out containers stacked in it and Beca doesn’t have to ask to know it’s from the ramen place they frequented. “I did, yeah.”

Chloe sets the bag on the table and Beca watches her take off and hang up her coat. When she turns back around, she pauses. “Oh.”

Beca wonders what she’s looking at until she realizes it’s Beca’s clothes. “You didn’t throw my stuff away.”

Chloe takes a break as though she’s about to speak but instead she sighs and says nothing in reply as she sits down in her chair to Beca’s left and starts unpacking the lunch she’s brought.

Beca catches her hand when it’s busy setting up soup and sides and Chloe’s entire body seems to flinch, but she doesn’t pull her hand away. “You didn’t throw me away, did you.”

Tears are welling in Chloe’s eyes when they meet Beca’s but she still doesn’t speak.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Beca rushes when she realizes she’s the one who has to do the talking. “But I do. Will you hear me out? Give me ten minutes. Five.”

“Okay,” Chloe says quietly as she pulls her hand back to resume passing out utensils.

Beca waits until she’s finished, until Chloe’s no longer distracting herself with busywork and her eyes land on Beca nervously so she can finally say, “I’m sorry, Chloe.”

The End

[nkossovan]

50 Years Ago Today, Janis Joplin Suddenly Dropped Us

She was a wild one, but some of us need the storm to feel safe. - Atticus

On October 4th, 1970, at the Landmark Motor Hotel (7047 Franklin Avenue, Los Angeles, California 90028) in room 105, Janis Joplin suddenly stopped—she had done all her boundary-breaking three years shy of 30.

16 days earlier, in London, UK, Jimi Hendrix had died of an overdose. Janis was next, then on July 3rd, 1971, Jim Morrison met the same fate. All three “Js” were 27 when they die, and thus the 27 club is formed to be joined years later by Kurt Cobain and Amy Winehouse.

While there’s no shortage of misfit stories floating around—none come close to Janis Joplin’s story. Her story had a much heavier weight of pain, which became her trademark. As is often the case with artists who burn brightly for a short time, Janis, to do what she did, the memorizing performances, needed the pain, which came from never belonging.

The pain came early, from the worst fate that can befall an American teenager, being unpopular. “They laughed me out of class, out of town, and out of the state,” said Janis while speaking with Dick Cavett on June 25th, 1970, about attending her 10-year high school reunion. That’s what happened back then to those who were different, who didn’t conform—before trolling on the Internet anonymously shouting down anyone you disagreed with. In turn, Janis would go on to embody tolerance (You do you, I’ll do me.) and outspoken liberalism in its purest non-political sense coupled with unpolished feminism than was uncomfortable to many.

Janis didn’t lean on anyone, she didn’t play barbie or house, she didn’t pretend for the media. She was raw talent, with no artificial ingredients, no manufactured image. Rock n roll, especially in the 60s and 70s, is ugly. Janis wasn’t afraid to get “ugly” with it, and she was beautiful because of it. Besides being a phenomenal singer (Music historian Tom Moon wrote that Joplin had “a devastatingly original voice”) and a mesmerizing power onstage, Janis was a junkie, an alcoholic, and indiscriminately promiscuous—but she never apologized to the mob. Janis spoke her truth and was one of the very few who lived their truth, which unfortunately was a relentless descent to self-destruction.

Fans labeled Joplin as the “The Queen of Psychedelic Soul.” Friends called her merely “Pearl.” Janis complained she was “the Queen of Unrequited Love.” She once confided to soul singer-guitarist Bobby Womack that she used heroin because it could “bury her thoughts and deaden her from the world.” 

Janis’s self-destructive behavior wasn’t ground-breaking—Billie Holiday created that movie long before—but hers was public, a freestyle living along the lines of F. Scott Fitzgerald and Zelda—‘that all-out, full-tilt, hell-bent way of living’, without the love.

Janis’s end was like this:

On Saturday, October 3rd, 1970, Janis was at Sunset Sound Recorders, with the Full Tilt Boogie Band, working on her 4th album, Pearl. Around 11:00 pm, after a good day of recording, she and the band went to Barney’s Beanery, for some food and drinks. Janis had a couple of screwdrivers. When friends she was supposed to have been meeting didn’t show up, Janis drove her psychedelic Porsche to the Landmark Motor Hotel, north of Hollywood Boulevard, where she was staying in room 105. She asked the hotel clerk to break a five-dollar bill for the cigarette vending machine, bought a pack of Marlboro Reds, and went to her room. 

The next day, Janis, usually on time, didn’t show for the scheduled recording session. She was expected to provide the vocal track for the instrumental track of the song “Buried Alive in the Blues.” Her producer, Paul Rothchild, became concerned and called John Cooke, who was Full Tilt Boogie’s road manager. Around 8:00 pm, John entered Janis’s room to find her on the floor dead from what would be a heroin overdose; the theory being the heroin was much more potent than Janis was used to. Janis Joplin’s time of death is estimated to be 1:40 am on Sunday, October 4th.

For some reason, people still see Joplin as a victim. I can’t agree with this judgment. Joplin was far from a victim. She was a fearless woman who took the bull by the horns and was aware of the risks in doing so—Janis knew what she was doing. She crashed an all-boys club to become a rock star, on her terms. Undeniably Janis was intelligent, sensitive, and alive to everything around her. Thus she was sensitive and alive to her own pain, which made her vulnerable. Before turning 30, Janis became one of the most influential artists in American music with all this internal turmoil. Sadly, the alchemy of heavy drug use and excessive drinking caught up with her early.

Janis Joplin sang with more than her voice. Her involvement was total; she told the world what was in her heart and had a genuine commitment to delivery. Watching Janis Joplin videos of her performing at times hurts. You want to cry because it’s all too beautiful and painful at once. She was just herself. Janis wanted people to respond to her. She received attention, lots of attention, but not the acceptance she desperately wanted.

The cruel irony is Janis needed the pain Port Arthur conservatism, coupled with the judgment offered to those deemed not to belong, to sing heart-wrenching blues the way she did. 

As years passed, people realized there’s be only one Janis Joplin. Judgment of her became much kinder than she was ever to herself. Rightfully she’s been called “the best white blues singer in American musical history” and “the greatest female singer in the history of rock ‘n’ roll.” 

Then some say as if to appear they’re in the loop, that neither her voice nor her health could stand the demands she made upon them, on stage and off. In an interview, when asked about her pedal-to-the-metal lifestyle, Janis answered: “Maybe I won’t last as long as other singers, but I think you can destroy your now by worrying about tomorrow.” Somehow, in a way, I cannot explain, Janis Joplin factures you.

Just as Janis Joplin was starting on a runway getting everyone high, she suddenly dropped everyone. 

 Afterward:

On Tuesday, January 12th, 1971, Pearl was released. In the US, the album goes to #1, as does the single “Me and Bobby McGee.” “Buried Alive in The Blues” is left on as an instrumental, and “Mercedes Benz,” a song Joplin recorded acapella on her last night alive on a whim, is included. 

[sagehaleyofficial]

HERE’S WHAT YOU MISSED THIS WEEK (1.1-1.7.20):

NEW MUSIC:

·         Angels & Airwaves teased a new song, while providing some information about the new documentary about them. According to frontman Tom DeLonge, the sing is titled “Time Bomb.”

·         Travis Barker of Blink-182 fame and his son Landon Barker took to Instagram to briefly tease the idea of them working together. On Instagram, the drummer classically banged away on his kit and Landon appeared to be nodding his head.

·         Vic Mensa dropped a new video for his song “It’s a Bad Dream.” The song comes from the project 93PUNX and features Good Charlotte, as well as notable names such as Travis Barker of Blink-182 and Tom Morello of Rage Against the Machine.

·         All Time Low’s social media, as well as all the members including Alex Gaskarth and Jack Barakat, posted a cryptic video to their respective accounts. We see the iconic panda from the “Birthday” video as he lights a barrel on fire that contains a Last Young Renegade jacket.

·         Green Day‘s newest album track listing might have been leaked online. A fan of the group claims he was sent the Father of All… vinyl sleeve in the mail from someone in California, which is where the band is based.

·         After a surprise track released earlier in December, Set It Off dropped another new song called “So Predictable”. The band previously dropped another song, “Catch Me If You Can,” in mid-December after teasing a new release on Twitter.

·         Post Malone is reportedly going to be a featured performer on Justin Bieber‘s new album, due out later this year. In addition to Posty, Coachella headliner Travis Scott is rumored to feature on the album as well.

·         The 1975’s label Dirty Hit sent out a tweet requesting people to submit some information and a picture of themselves and their partner. The label says they’re shooting in London on January 18th and are searching for couples to star in a new music video.

·         Paramore’s Hayley Williams posted three mysterious black squares on Instagram, sparking theories that the music will soon be here. Fans spotted a poster of Williams and the phrase “Petals for Armor” around the U.S. including New York and her Nashville hometown.

TOUR ANNOUNCEMENTS:

·         Motion City Soundtrack made their triumphant return to the stage last Tuesday on New Year’s Eve in Chicago, rocking the House of Blues. Before the return, the band posted a hype image, reminding fans to get tickets while they could.

·         Green Day began 2020 with a performance on Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve with Ryan Seacrest. At the event, the band performed their hit “When I Come Around” in celebration of the 25th anniversary of Dookie.

·         The Academy Is… posted a photo that is strikingly similar to the cover of their debut album Almost Here‘s cover art. The band’s debut record is coming up on its 15-year anniversary in February, leading to speculation about either another run of tour dates.

·         5 Seconds of Summer Ashton Irwin teamed up with Palaye Royale at NYE 2020: A Rock + Roll Carnival at the Taix Champagne Room. The night featured a host of covers of classic hits such as “Bohemian Rhapsody” by Queen to “Black Dog” by Led Zeppelin.

·         After countless rumors regarding who will be playing this year’s Coachella, several of the speculated artists have now been confirmed after the full lineup announcement. Weekend one is sold out, but weekend two presale begins today at noon PST.

·         My Chemical Romance’s latest post spawned speculation they will announce a show in the UK. The band posted across their social media accounts a cryptic photo of a cloaked skeletal face person with a simple caption containing the UK flag.

·         Halsey recently came under fire for some comments she made while performing at Bay Dreams Festival in New Zealand. She then relayed that it was just crowd banter to get them really going and she would say the same to anyone about their rival of sorts.

·         The surviving members of Nirvana reunited on Saturday in Los Angeles for a show with Beck, St. Vincent and more. The concert was for a charity gala hosted by charity organization the Art of Elysium.

·         Post Malone recently showed off his screaming skills while screaming along to Pantera‘s “Walk.” Recently, videos of Posty were posted by New York-based, indie-rock band Beach Fossils.

OTHER NEWS:

·         Dan Reynolds of Imagine Dragons took to social media to address concerns about the band recently taking the top three spots on Billboard’s Hottest Rock Songs of the Decade chart. Reynolds laughed off the negative comments.

·         Post Malone showed off his newest face tattoo, an armored hand holding a medieval flail. It takes a sizable spot on his face and was created by Kyle Hediger, who has tattooed Posty previously.

·         Pierce the Veil revealed that their collaboration with Sleeping with Sirens’ Kellin Quinn, “King for a Day,” went platinum. In November 2014, the song went gold and held its own in the Top 40 Rock chart.

·         A very dedicated My Chemical Romance fan compiled all the high-quality footage that everyone posted throughout the band’s return show. They edited them all together and made a one hour and forty-minute video of the entire gig.

·         Jeffree Star posted his first video of the New Year, in which he takes us on a 36-minute tour of his new multi-million-dollar mansion. Star also talks about how he had a dream and made it come true with less than $500 in his pocket after quitting music.

·         In anticipation of the release of Birds of Prey, merchandise for the film has officially dropped via Hot Topic. Among the items is also an impressive jacket from Her Universe resembling the one Harley Quinn is seen wearing in the film’s trailers.

·         New Years Day vocalist Ash Costello made a post on Instagram explaining the ups and downs of 2019 for her personally and professionally while confirming she is now engaged. Costello and her fiancé Jered Boeving made the move together at Disneyland.

·         Lil Peep’s management and label, First Access Entertainment, is disputing claims filed by his mother in documents filed on December 23rd in Los Angeles Superior Court. Liza Womack filed suit against the company over claims they overworked him and encouraged drug use.

·         Billie Eilish launched a sustainable merchandise line with H&M. The line features everything from oversized t-shirts and sweaters to joggers, which are all made from sustainably-sourced materials.

·         We the Kings drummer Danny Duncan announced his engagement to longtime girlfriend Valentina Guerrero. The couple have one son, Carter, who adorably posed with the newly engaged duo after the proposal.

·         All Time Low is teaming up with Full Tilt Brewery to create a new beverage called “Beer Maria Count Me In.” Full Tilt founders Nick Fertig and Dan Baumiller originally opened the brewery using Peabody Heights Brewery’s facilities in Baltimore six years ago.

·         Benji Madden of Good Charlotte and his wife, actress Cameron Diaz, welcomed the birth of a baby girl. The couple kept it a secret to protect the privacy of their little one, who is named Raddix Madden.

·         Twenty One Pilots frontman Tyler Joseph and wife Jenna continued to invite fans into their world as they prepare for the birth of their first child. The mother-to-be shared a photo with a caption revealing approximately their daughter is due in approximately one month.

·         The Panic! at the Disco track “High Hopes” was used for an epic same-sex skate routine in the UK show Dancing on Ice. During the premiere of the program’s latest season, pro ice-skater Matt Evers and Welsh actor/singer Ian H. Watkins had their first routine together.

·         The iconic venue Koko in the Camden district of London last night. Firefighters worked hard to put the flames out as smoke and flames blow out from the roof scaffolding of the venue, which is currently undergoing renovations.

___

Check in next Tuesday for more “Posi Talk with Sage Haley,” only at @sagehaleyofficial!

[sanatozakisana]

Feel 느낌

Sana and Dahyun's trip to Tokyo, Japan. About art, love, nightlife, and feeling.

(This is backed up with song cues to match the story's feeling and help you get in the moment)

[slow-paced]

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Part ONE

It was a busy morning in the airport given it was the holiday season. Sana and Dahyun had discussed long before Christmas that they will be spending this time together. They decided to vote on where they should spend their vacation among Thailand, Bali, or Sana's homeland, Japan. Normally, Sana would refuse to drag Dahyun back there since she'd want to explore more places and cultures and not confine Dahyun where she grew up, even if she is most comfortable there. Besides, they already went to Japan last year so that Sana could see her little sister graduate preschool. But due to Dahyun's irresistible charm and stubborness, Sana gave in and the pair eventually headed for Osaka.

"Here you go, unnie." Dahyun playfully said as she handed her girlfriend a paper bag filled with snacks bought from the airports’ notorious money-maker all over the world: the on-site convenience store.

"Ya! Dahyunnie, you didn't have to buy all these for me! These must've cost you your whole wallet!" Sana looked inside the bag and found three kinds of large Doritos, two kinds of Pringles, and one weird-looking egg pie. She made a mental picture of Dahyun's wallet, slowly deteriorating.

"Yeah, only like, 40 dollars." Dahyun made a face to Sana. "And what made you think those are solely for you?" Sana shot Dahyun a glare of 'you-know-i-love-these-so-why-aren't-these-for-me'.

Dahyun melted at the sight of Sana being all cute, and somehow deadly as she now charges towards her. She knew anyway that Sana was just being kind-hearted and shy whenever she receives gifts from people and turns them away at first when in fact, Sana already called dibs on what she'll have.

"I'm just kidding. That's why I bought those. 'Cause I know you love them. And besides we'll be needing a lot of snacks. The flight is very," Dahyun let out a long, exaggerated, exasperated sigh. "Very long."

They were walking on the ramp leading to the inside of the plane. Sana and Dahyun linked their arms, ready for another trip that will fill another one of their photo albums. Dahyun really loves taking pictures. She brought her camera with her on-board, and hung it on her neck.

"You do know that the flight is just 2 hours, right?" The ginger-haired girl hugged her beloved snack bag tight. Sana's overdue rebuttal caught Dahyun's attention. She was cold sweating, obviously nervous.

"Do you want me to have you as a snack? Go straight to the restroom and not rest?" Dahyun manages to joke and smoothly winks, leaving Sana a flustered mess.

Another thing about the navy blue-haired girl is that she is scared, if not utterly terrified of airplanes. She hated heights ever since her childhood when a carnival Ferris wheel stopped mid-air. She and her brother were the ones on the supreme top and she could just not remove the phobia ever since.

OXYGEN- TWICE

But what she loved now was whenever Sana could feel her girlfriend's fear, she immediately holds Dahyun's hand. The intertwining of their fingers always calmed her down. The feeling of falling from the sky was replaced of the feeling of falling more and more for Sana. Perhaps it wasn't the intertwining of the fingers, but the feeling of being loved by someone who is so genuine and kind. Every day this happens, and only Dahyun knew how much Sana has become her whole world.

"You wish." Sana rolled her eyes, a smile tugging the corner of her lips. "You know, you should drop a coin in our 'No Sex Jokes in Public', Dahyunnie." They both suppressed their laughter.

The plane took off. Dahyun was looking at Sana, who was brightly smiling at her. She leaned closer and placed her head on Sana’s shoulder.

Sana held Dahyun's hand the entire flight.

[purplesurveys]

732

1. What is the reason you last got a new cell phone? The battery on my old 5S was getting frustratingly shitty and would die at 90%, and it would also take forever to boot up. It also reached a point where it was almost always hot to the touch. I always had to have a power bank with me and when that broke as well, it almost felt like I didn’t have a phone anymore because it would just be dead all the time.

2. Do you enjoy Math? I was always on extremes with it. Either I was making really excellent marks or I was failing badly, and I think it’s because performance in math depends on how well you understand and can apply the lessons. If you know the formulas it’s easy to pass the whole exam but if your memory is spotty, then that’s just a domino effect right there.

3. Are you more masculine or feminine? I’d say the lines are very blurred these days and I think it’s a very good thing, but I guess stereotypically I’m more feminine.

4. Has anyone ever told you that you’re their favourite? Sure, by best friends and close friends.

5. How many albums do you have by the band/artist you’re listening to? I don’t really pay close attention to the lo-fi scene and if their artists release albums at all, heh.

6. What are you doing tomorrow? Same old. Do a survey or two, maybe play the Switch, take a nap, have a coffee, maybe get a snack, practice Spanish.

7. Which name have you kissed the most people with? Have only kissed a Gabie.

8. Closest fast food place to your house? There’s a McDonald’s, Chowking, and Shakey’s right beside our village. If you’re willing to drive a little and take a u-turn there’s also a Burger King on the other side of the highway.

9. Does your city/town have a Taco Bell in it? No. I think only QC has Taco Bell, a shame.

10. Do you enjoy All You Can Eat buffets? Love them. Buffets make me so excited and happy.

11. Post a picture of yourself from about two years and three months ago: I was gonna say no to this but then I figured I used to post my photos all the time on my ancient Tumblr days, so whatever. This one was taken at my high school’s school fair and it’s the only photo I have of myself from January 2018. Blurred Gab out, for the curious.

12. Have you ever seen the band/artist you’re listening to live? I’ve never seen a lo-fi show, or know if those even exist.

13. Who was your best friend three years ago? The same ones I have three years later.

14. Do you enjoy hard drugs? Nope, not even interested in them.

15. Do you have any “e-buddies”? That means internet friends, right? I don’t have any < If this is what this means, I have Aliyah. Rafie and I don’t talk anymore but I still consider him a dear friend because of the time he gave me a free ticket to a WWE show when the roster came here in 2016.

16. Have you done anything productive today? It’s 1:19 AM, so no.

17. Do you enjoy sucking dick? I’ve never done that sksksksksksk. Don’t really have plans to.

18. Reason you last pulled an all-nighter? I just felt like doing it.

19. What design is on the last cup you used? It’s white but it has a black design of the wi-fi logo on it. If the beverage inside is hot the logo will turn bright blue to let you know it’s hot, but it gradually fades to black as it cools down.

20. Did you watch Garfield as a child? No.

21. Did you watch What-a-Mess? No, never heard of that one < Same. I only know Whataburger hahahahaha

22. Do you have a charm on your phone? No but I probs did on my old phones from childhood.

23. Last thing you bought over fifty dollars? Gabie’s Christmas gifts in total were over $50 (₱2500) but I don’t know if I’ve ever spent that amount on a single thing.

24. What colour is the last lighter you used? I don’t remember but it was either a neon green or pink.

25. Last thing you printed off a computer? A business article I needed to turn in for a journalism class.

26. Last thing you threw in the garbage? A sachet for 3-in-1 coffee.

27. Do you know anyone not related to you with your last name? Yeah I used to ride the bus with her. She’s like 6 years younger though so I never got to be friends with her.

28. How many band shirts do you have, and which ones? Just one, Paramore. I bought it with the emergency money my mom gave me for my first Paramore gig (like for food and drinks) so you can imagine how angry she was when I pissed it all away for a shirt.

29. What are you happiest about this year so far? I got to have a wild party with my friends literally a week before the lockdown. I’m glad I got to have such an experience with them, cause it’s something I never got to do throughout college.

30. Last black person you hugged? I’ve never hugged any black people, come to think of it.

31. Last cut/injury you received? I have a weird cut on my right ring finger that I have no clue from where it came. It’s not bothersome but it will sometimes sting if it’s hit with water.

32. Do you shave your leg all at once, or do you do it in halves? I don’t know what shaving legs in half is supposed to mean lmao but when I shave, I shave the whole leg?

33. Is life hard? Well it’s definitely not supposed to be easy.

34. Who does the song you’re listening to remind you of? These days lo-fi reminds me of taking surveys because... well, it’s what I listen to when I take surveys.

35. Last message you received? Kaye very randomly asked me just now if pro wrestling was truly staged and after I explained it to her I asked her why she was thinking of that at this hour, and the last message I got was her explanation.

36. Do you eat your vegetables? I looooove them.

37. Is Nutella amazing? It’s not groundbreaking on its own but I’d drop money on a Nutella-flavored snack, you know what I mean? I find it too sweet if I eat it by itself so I need other elements to balance it out.

38. Have you ever had anything pierced that isn’t anymore? No. My ear piercings are still open even after not hanging earrings from them anymore in a decade.

39. Would you consider yourself “tough”? In a sense that I had to grow up earlier than most kids due to the shitty stuff I saw in childhood and in a sense that I can handle most traumatic or triggering situations with ease, sure.

40. Headphones or earbuds? Earbuds.

[jvonirsik-blog]

Running With The Devil

There was a time in my life where I thought being a heathen was fun. I enjoyed the attention I received when I would shock my little Kansas town, mostly made up of farmers and ranchers and some brightly colored Oil Field trash. I grew up on a farm a few miles from this little 4 horse town. I would see the lights and could see from one side to the other, with binoculars I was able to see ppl walking around. I grew up somewhat sheltered, as my only interaction with friends was the occasional birthday party, but mainly through schooling. At the age of 8 I was put in charge of feeding the animals. I would start with the chickens, dogs, cats, horses, then jump in the truck and drop hay across the pasture. This wasn't that bad. As I grew older I began to get frustrated with the fact that I had so many responsibilities that it almost became impossible to even go to the pool in the middle of a work week. I began to slack off on the farm and the married in family, whos family owned the farm since the beginning of the town, started to really show their true colors. I had always known that my step dad was a POS. He liked to drink when he wasn't hauling cows across the country, talking uppers and being gone most the time. When he was home it was like boot camp. When my step dad decided it was time to work for the family farm he became a full time fixture in my life. We had known each other from the age of 5 and my brother 3. in the beginning it was ok, my mother just raised us out there, but as time had progressed and with me already a victim of sexual exploitation, my step dads furry in having to raise kids that were not his own heated up. I seemed to alway getting into trouble, most the time I didn't know what I had done to trigger such violence. I was supposed to be going to my dads but with him working in the oil patch that was few and far between. When I was just a young boy I had pretty much listened to what my mother listened to. It is still to this day music that I enjoy. Because I had been driving the farm truck for a little while my uncle form my fathers marriage decided that it was time to do some back roads drinking. I'm not asking for ppl to trash this guy, it was in fact the time period that allowed for it. But to me I was down, got to drive this guy who I looked up to around while we rocked out to some of his favorite music. That day I was introduced to Metallica both And Justice for All and Kill Em All. Both albums that I will always fully enjoy. And Justice for All top tier. That night I would sneak out to my uncles ride and snatch those two albums and hide them in my boots as I figured they would look in my bag. I can remember him getting kinda grumpy, it took a day to notice but I heard about it. I remained innocent for a really long time. That year I would start to transform into the being that I will later look back too as a hard lesson in life. This steeling of cassette tapes would lead me down a road in a high speed chase with guns drawn. A city looking me straight in the eyes and telling me to get out of their stores. I was beginning to become black listed. By the time I was 16 I had become the thug everyone wanted me to be, the kid who was a drop out. All his friends still in school and that made for a boring holiday. I asked to return that following semester. My parents trying desperately to convince the principal to let me back in. You see I had been kicked out of a tiny farm school for being a redneck and shooting a gun on school property. Not at anyone not during school hours but in the gym because it was unlocked. Anyways his option once he told my parents he would allow it, was that I had to do a book report of the book The Black Bible. It was a genuine copy that he pulls out of his desk like he has a few. Me being a full blown metal head, accepts the challenge. Until then the pentagram had just been something metal to throw around. No religion involved. I'm moved to tell my story as the movie The Dirt, hopefully a realistic rendition of the members of Motley Crue. So far it seems to be the caliber of what I remember going up crying to their extremely popular ballads. I remember getting Dr Feelgood from a friend and I couldn't put it down, the guitars were crunchy and the bass was in front, which by the way I had wanted to become a bassist. Nikki Sixx was an inspiration to me. I can remember looking at these cats like superhero's. Unfortunately bands like KISS kinda ruined it when that played cartoon characters. But whatever I remember just looking forward to when Nikki would do interviews or be in the headlines. I was a kid in the 80's like I said it was the time period. We would roll out with our Walkmans and oversized kicks, I ended up going from running shoes to the lovely Cortez kicks and now for about 15 or plus years been with chucks. I like the way they allow me to do it all, the are sports shoes business casual, heck even work hoes if you got some nice ones. But this isn't a shoe commercial. This is about Opiates, this is about an epidemic and I heard Nikki Sixx say exactly what went wrong. What happened is they launched an addictive substance designed to help our bodies recover then we became reliant on them. They made our pain receptors like little wusses. I am 40, I had a major football accident, and throughout the years I have sought after these high dollar pills on the streets because the Dr new I liked drugs. I had always thought that if administered correctly we could have had a decent relationship but that wasn't the case. I have spent many years trying to fight myself in this battle and finally won a few years ago. Now I face the task of fixing my life. Because I had become so dependent on these blue and yellow purple pills. I had sold things that I needed. I spent more money on pills that life and now I can't find the front door. I don't know what way is up. I hope that somewhere down the line we can find a solution to get ppl like me who never intended to have a shitty life, we were handed everything to accomplish these things. I, being a sound mind individual could use a reset. Growing up the false accusations that turned a town against me, never to receive an apology or even a, Hey we know you didn't do it, know that we are allowing you back into society. Nope it was all boots to the ass. So I hit the road and made something of myself, I never made it famous but I did successfully operate my own metal showcase podcast, a radio spot at a local station and have toured the country from cost to cost. I now reside with my wife and child. I missed out on two children because of my social anxiety issues. I would sink into drugs and alcohol. I never entered a relationship where these two things were not present in both of us, the issue became when I would do my own thing and they would begin to hate me. Hate is a strong word when kids are involved. It almost always inssures you will have a harder time. I regret ever giving into the demands of my x's who would say that I am a low life POS but I have many others, we just didn't have kids who would argue against them. It's clear in cases with kids its either all or nothing. I was only just 13 years old when i was rocking out to Motley Crue's Decade of Decadance album on the way to Colorado Springs to drop my mother off at the airport. This would be the year I would knock my step dad out and the last time he would ever lay down leather on my arse again. I took that trip with them and now I will take that trip with them once again. I was just a kid but I had to grow up fast. Here is to Nikki Sixx and I hope this book on opiates gets bought. We need to get away from these designer drugs. #NikkiSixx #MotleyCrue #80sMetal #WhiteKnuckleRadio