#pop music beat maker

[jacobthewilliam]

Use this beat for your next song - Jacobthewilliam.BEATS [ SOULSTICE SAM...

[nightinternet]

MY BEATS ARE ON BANDCAMP

🩵

[mylezelite]

[dreamers-blood]

Back in 2020 we pieced together our first project titled "FndeF"; an EP by Ben James x PinkyMan x Strugzy - a Dreamer's Blood production, entirely crafted by us from it's music and production to all it's visual counterparts.

LISTEN TO THE FNDEF PROJECT HERE

[struwberrii]

last train home ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

suna rintaro x gn!reader

you were out in the city, running some errands and losing track of time. you had stopped by a bakery to get yourself some snacks for later that night and then decided you should probably make your way back to the train station before it was too late. the sun had set a while ago and your phone was saying it was almost 9pm. way too late to your liking. you slid your phone back in your pocket and focused on finding your way back to the train station.

after a few minutes of walking you noticed a familiar silhouette ahead of you. it wasn’t hard to point him out since the streets had cleared quite a bit as it got later, but you still waiting til you got closer to confirm if it was him or not. suna rintaro. you and suna were never super close. you’d spoken a few times and all your conversations were pleasant, but you never reached out to each other outside of class work.

you were actually relieved to see him, he lives in the same town as you so if he was also making his way home, you’d probably be able to ride the train with him and avoid any creepy encounters, i mean suna looked pretty intimidating, right? no way any creeps would try something if they saw you were riding the train with a guy, especially a guy as fit and muscular… and handsome as suna, right?

you quickly snapped out of your thoughts when you got closer to him. he didn’t seem to be headed towards the train station though. he was just standing on the side walk typing away on his phone. he must’ve felt you staring at him because eventually he looked over in your direction, watching you walk closer and closer to him. he turned his phone off and slipped it in his pocket.

“why are you out so late?”

‘not a hi, not a how are you? just straight to the point’ you thought

“i lost track of time shopping” you replied quickly, you opened your mouth to pop the question but he beat you to it, except you weren’t expecting him to say what he said

“you know you missed the last train right” he said practically smirking at you as if it were a funny thing. you pulled out your phone and checked the time

9:08PM

“shit” you said clicking your tongue. you really didn’t want to pay a gillion dollars for an uber home, especially after spending so much money in the city, then you remembered suna. he lived around the corner from you so he would’ve had to take the same train, how was he getting home?

“i can give you a ride” his voice sounding almost angelic all of a sudden, and you could’ve sworn you saw a halo over his head for a second.

“on my scooter”

the halo vanished quickly, along with your smile.

“i’m joking, you wanna ride?” he said motioning to a black car parked a few steps behind the two of you on the side of the street. his car looked so new, you were not expecting that.

“thank you so much! that would be great” you smiled at him and followed him over to his car. the smell of earthy pine tree air freshener flooded your nose, it was surprisingly pleasant though.

you both situated yourselves in the car and he began to drive.

the ride was painfully silent at first, he didn’t even turn on the radio. just the sound the open road. you decided to break the silence.

“i didn’t know you drive” you said mentally face palming yourself and praying you didn’t sound stupid

“i usually don’t, i came out to buy a new coffee maker though” he said motioning to his back seat where a big coffee machine box sat atop the cushions.

“you want the aux?” he motioned towards the white auxiliary cord that sat between the two of you on the cars console. you shook your head no in response, scared he wouldn’t like your music taste. he then shrugged in response and turned on his music.

to your surprise it was a song by one of your favorite bands.

“woah, i love this band!” you said cheerfully pointing at the screen where the songs cover art and title was displayed.

“really? you didn’t strike me as the [fav music genre teehee] type” he said smiling a bit. the two of you discussed your favorite songs by the band and similar artists you liked. the 35 minute car ride flew by so quickly.

“is this you?” he said as he slowed down next to your apartment complex. you nodded and gathered your bags.

“thank you so much suna, i’ll see you around” you smiled at him.

“wait” he said grabbing your wrist lightly before you could fully get out of the car.

“could i get your number? maybe we could make each other a playlist, you have really good taste” he said a bit more shyly compared to your earlier conversation.

you happily exchanged numbers and a few minutes later you received a text from an unknown number

[you make it back ok?]

this text resulted in the two of you staying up til 2 texting about music, sending each other playlists, joking around and playing imessage games :)

˚₊‧꒰ა ꣑ৎ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

i might re write this, it’s literally 4am and i randomly had this idea and wanted to write it but i didn’t write it exactly how i wanted it to and now i feel like it’s just all over the place 😭😭 pt.2 where i write while conscious :3

[m0chisenpai]

Accessorize

˚｡⋆ lestat de lioncourt x black!fem!reader

in which Lestat and his little muse have a preshow ritual

Lestat picked you up in the beginning of his rise to fame. He heard you sing, and needed your voice. Over the screeching fans, he heard you sing to his song, and knew that your voice would be heard for centuries to come. The following day he would send one of his agents to pick you up from your hotel room. “Mr Lioncourt wants to negotiate a contract with you ma’am”

You were quick to deny it, but when they showed you the paperwork and pay you were going to receive, the thought of working for a tempered immortal that could snap you in half like a twig was the least of your worries.

They provide you with accommodations and cover all expenses to move you from your home state to California where he had already begun working on his next single.

You started working in back up vocals something you were already used to, but two recording sessions later and Lestat demanded your voice be on the song with him alone. He waved off the three singers demanding you were to stay. You could feel his eyes like a weight upon you as you read the lyrics in front of you over and over. Rock was the last thing you’d expect to do, could you even do it?

But you have little time to prepare before the sound engineers voice echoes in your ears, “whenever you’re ready!”

The song is something new, not necessarily metal or hard work. But you close your eyes and begin to hum lowly into the mic, whispering the lyrics into the mic until the song turns off. When you sang in the recording studio, his eyes remained on you unblinking.

Finally you break the silence speaking into the microphone for both men to hear. "Was that good for you, Mr. Lioncourt?" you tilted your head. He smirked pressing a ring clad finger to respond.

"Perfection, cherie" he can see the delicous shiver tingle down your spine. The song was a hit, no doubt the man was a musical genius, but he had to credit you as well, Your voice was the missing piece.

This new life was something new, something better. Who were you to deny it? You were making thrice more then you could ever in your life time. Add your new immortality? You were untouchable. You had an immortality lover, maker, companion, whatever he chose to label it by your side. Had Lestat known there was this new side to you with the Dark Gift he would have bestowed it upon you the year he began working with you.

You took to your thirst and instincts like a duck to water. Prowling the nights with your costar. Taking groupies back for meals. Walking red carpet appearances, and doing interviews in the most bold outfits.

You were made for this, made to be with him.

The tabloids and networks were reporting on the chemistry you two had stage. Were you a couple? No you were more than that. You and Lestat completed something in one another.

You sat beside him on the tour bus. It was designated just for you two and tinted windows protected you both. Your fingers scrolled on Instagram, reading the latest highlights and news from your last performance. In the high and rush of pre performance jitters, you bit him.

And the fans noticed it immediately as Lestat popped his jacket open proudly displaying it, and the smeared blood painting your lips making you look like a goddess on stage.

Tonight was an interview, and whoever it was peaked Lestat’s attention enough to get just the two of you on camera.

"It seems your previous work has begun to fade," Lestat sits up a bit on his elbows, his curly waves fall behind him. And he flashes you a fangy smirk. The bites you bestowed him have in fact begun to fade.

“Who are we to deny the people what they want,” you snicked, tossing your phone beside you.

Your crawl to him like the little minx you are are. Kissing your way up his stomach. Your first bite is just where his heart would be beating, and you take a small drink from the wound. You press kiss after kiss landing another biting right in his neck.

That's where you begin to feed, getting drunk off the ancient taste of him. He surrounds and intoxicates you. He’s panting and digging his nails into your hips, he always loved it when you fed from him.

When you are full you pull back, chest heaving and pupils wide like his own. You both would be late, using this time to satiate another hunger.

When you;ve arrived you are walking on cloud nine with your beloved, your manager in front of you both. Lestat holds your hand as you both enter the studio., guiding you like you are royalty.

Two seats are situated side by side but he immmediately pulls you atop his lap. Ignorong the staff member who fumbles to fix the set up.

Your nose crinkles at the chalice beside you. The blood smells foul. Lestat sees the distaste on your face, "my muse won't be drinking that."

A woman approaches him with a make up brush that he immediately moves away from.

“Do I look like I need you?” His sneer deterred the makeup woman immediately who moved to you.

“I touched up on the bus.” Your smile sends her away with blushing cheeks. They move to mic you both up, doing their best not to brush on the vampire. But their eyes do catch the fresh bite on his neck and the one just barely peaking on his chest.

“Can we uh…do you need to get that checked? Or covered?”

“Oh I think you know the answer to that,” you eye your work in pride, and Lestat smirks up at you. Perhaps he ought to give you a matching one.

[videostarblogs]

1. Twee

the fashion style of "twee" is a whimsical and nostalgic style that emerged in the 80s and gain popularity in the indie and alternative music scenes in the 2000s. it draws inspo from vintage and childlike elements, creating an aesthetic that is both innocent and playful. here is the full break down!!

origins and development

Twee fashion can trace its roots back to the DIY and thrift store culture of the 1980s, mostly in the UK. Bands like Belle and Sebastian and The Smiths, with their melancholic yet charming music, heavily influenced the early twee fashion. As indie and alternative music gained more traction n the 2000s, twee fashion experienced a "revival". Indie pop bands like Camera Obscura and The Magnetic Fields embodied the twee aesthetic, further popularizing it.

key motifs/feature

Vintage inspired: twee fashion often incorporates vintage clothing pieces. especially from the 1950s to the 1980s. think Peter pan collars, high waisted, a lines skirts, and cardigans.

warm colors: warm hues such a as warm brown, burnt sienna, and a warm honey yellow dominate the color palette of twee, but there is also more muted cooler tones as well like cyan and forest green

whimsical prints: prints with animal spots, floral, polka bots, swirls, and stripes are more common in twee fashions.

accessories: quirky accessories like novelty brooches, oversized bows, cat eye glasses and crocheted items are staples of the twee look, adding a playful touch to the outfits

other: twee fashions embraces the handmade aesthetic, with many enthusiast crafting their own clothing and accessories or supporting independent artisans and makers

music

twee fashion is closely associated with indie pop and twee pip music genres. Bands like Belle and Sebastian, The Vasalines, and Alvvays not only inspired the fashion but also serve as style icons for twee enthusiasts

Belle and Sebastian

The Boy Least Likely To

Beat Happening

Camera Obscura

The Magnetic Fields

Tullycraft

The Softies

Lucky Soul

The Moldy Peaches

The Pains of Being Pure at Heart

movies

films like "amelie" and "moonrise kingdom" encapsulate the whimsy and nostalgia of twee fashion with their eccentric characters and visually stunning aesthetic, these movies often feature vintage inspired costumes and settings that resonate with the twee aesthetic

Amélie (2001)

Little Miss Sunshine (2006)

Juno (2007)

Whip It (2009)

The Kings of Summer (2013)

Chef (2014)

The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (2013)

Moonrise Kingdom (2012)

School of Rock (2003)

Ruby Sparks (2012)

books and other medias

authors like haruki marukami and wes Anderson's films are often cited as influences on twee fashion due to their emphasis on quirky characters, nostalgic settings, and whimsical story telling.

moodboards

outfits

overall

twee fashion is a charming and lighthearted style that celebrates nostalgia, individuality and creativity!!

please leave a like and follow my blog for more fashion posts, playlists, and movie lists like these and leave suggestions on what to do next!!

videostar signing off...

[snackugaki-jestsjapesjokes]

blep blah, here have some old ass backrooms doodle content when the topic of "the beach episode" concept came up bluhp blooh brain nyooming but art hand isn't arting

i think what is super cute in modern fandom expression that I've seen is that in terms of making OCs or AUs is that sound seems to have a bigger role now than from what I remember when I was young. which I'm thinking has a lot to do with being able to clip audio easily or being able to make multi-track playlists whenever. y'all out here with reels of your art with voice claims and some of the most thoughtfully and artfully crafted soundtracks-- not even playlists, some of that shit is a straight up soundtrack level be real

89% tempted to try one of those shady "free" video/audio editing programs to make a LoFi chill beats study girl visualizer playlist with my iteration's boys ...

anyway gonna contemplate music headcanons for my iteration under the cut

From Turtle Tracks fan letter section, Archie run, #24

so real quick, my iteration is literally just them chilling, hanging out, being together in their mid 30s- early 40s, and then sometimes flashing back to their child/teen years in the 90s because tl;dr i have miiiiiinor beef my childhood turtles weren't quite as "90s" as they "could have been" (nvm I'm cackling at the milennial pop culture refs in Mutant Mayhem drop kicking me back into my adolescence)

but mehehehehe, keeping that they listened to Public Enemy and The Jungle Brothers

and aside from Top 40 musicians of the time... I feel like being outsiders themselves, having to sneak around to explore and learn about people and what's above the sewers had them eavesdropping into a lot of nighttime venues and getting into the underground and various niche subculture scenes that daytime Top 40 didn't play.

cannot tell me the lights, thumping and noise from bands playing hardcore or house or hosting cyphers or raves didn't attract these curious and funky little green dudes like moths to a flame

... Leo definitely fell in deep with the gregorian chant phase, soothing sounds of nature fads , a big fan of Orbital and he fell into that electronic, house, trance, eurodance rabbit hole right after. he also got into Celtic folk music but when his brothers caught his ass studying Michael Flatley to incorporate Riverdance footwork into his ninjutsu he got teased so mercilessly that he took great care to hide listening to it... which just made his stealth better so joke's on them heehoo

Not to mention they're from New York City, the underground music scene is always bangin' no matter the decade; feel like rap and punk got a lot of tracks on their mix tapes back in the day

Raph getting into the metal scene in his own exploring the city trips, and then progressed to music with that boom bap sound (cuz baby boy needs a way to come down off those high intensity moods idk ijs)

Donnie... just the amalgamation of his brothers, he needs that background noise while he's chewing on schematics and protoype development, he would definitely have been the mixtape maker/recording bootlegger (along with Mikey)

Mikey absolutely tagged along with his brothers sometimes whenever they went to their spots for music, though he himself backflipped into ska 'cuz Mikey is always for the people

my tmnt  iteration (where everyone made it past their 20s, splinter’s alive just old, venus is here, and they deserve some goddamn respite and shenanigans)

tmnt  iteration part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11

tmnt  iteration omake 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

lny visit 1 | 2

Keep reading

[jacobthewilliam]

Use this beat for your next song - Jacobthewilliam.BEATS [ THE CALLING ]

[thissortofsorcery]

6. Coffee in bed

Babe, I wasn't put on earth to be brief, so. Hope you like this! Once again we hop on the Steve loving on Billy train. I had a lot of fun writing it.

I appreciate your prompt so much <3

-----

i want coffee >:((((

Is what Billy sends in the group chat in the middle of the afternoon on a Wednesday, fighting to keep his eyes open. He can't just give in and have a nap. He has a paper due next week, and Billy's never been the kind of person that believes in leaving things for the last minute, so he's got his laptop and his textbook and his notes from class spread around him on the bed, and he's going to get the bulk of this hell assignment done today. If he doesn't fall asleep.

Billy would get up and get coffee for himself, except he's very comfortable and he just found a nice position for his back. He doesn't want to get up.

Heather: i remember seeing a coffee maker in your kitchen

Heather: you could use that

Billy: don't wanna get up tho

Chrissy: are you about to fall asleep?

Billy: might be

Chrissy: I can call you in 30 mins if you want to nap

Billy: no im gonna fight it

Tommy: just take the nap dude

Heather: the coffee is 10 feet and 5 minutes away

Steve: did you eat?

Confusion pulls Billy's eyebrows together, and he waits for another text to come elaborating the question, but nothing does. In fact, the whole group chat stalls.

Billy: not yet

And Steve sends him a thumbs up. 

Billy rolls his eyes, and tosses his phone to the side. Steve makes no damn sense, sometimes. He's got this whole pretty boy, midwestern nice guy going for him, which Billy has to admit is charming as hell, and a line of chicks wanting to date him, but he never wants to date any of them. Billy is relieved, a little bit. If he had to watch Steve fall in love with someone while sharing an apartment with him, he'd lose his fucking mind, on account of the huge crush Billy's had on him since freshman year.

He really should get back to his paper, or he's gonna be stuck working on it until late.

Billy rubs his eyes blearily and turns his music a little louder, puts Kill 'Em All on loop because it never fails to fire him up. The guitar notes fill the room and make his eyelids feel a little lighter, make his limbs feel a little looser, and Billy jiggles his feet to the beat of the song while he takes notes on the library book he's reading. He can already imagine some of the paragraphs he wants to write in his head.

About an hour later, Billy's managed to outline some of his topics, but his eyelids are getting heavy again. His body feels like it's sinking into the bed, and all he wants is to burrow into his hoodie and curl up into a ball. Billy yawns and covers his face, letting out a long groan. Maybe he can close his eyes for five minutes. 

The sound of keys jingling on the front door of the apartment jerk him awake, and he opens his eyes like he's been hit over the head.

"Billy?" Steve's voice sounds from the living room. There's some shuffling, then Steve's head pops in his open door. "Hey."

Billy squints at Steve, takes in his swept up hair, the jacket he hasn't bothered to take off, and the soft smile spreading on his face as he looks at Billy, eyes shining, looking awfully fond in a way that makes Billy's chest hurt.

"You fell asleep," He says, and his voice is fond too.

"I didn't."

"You so did," Steve laughs, and comes into the room. He's wearing socks, because he hates shoes indoors, and he pushes something at Billy when he reaches his side. "Brought you coffee. And uh, a sandwich, cause you said you didn't eat."

Billy blinks at the to-go cup in Steve's right hand, trying to figure out if he's still dreaming, still caught in the haze of his subconscious fed by wishful thinking, because he can't imagine why Steve would stop to buy him coffee on his way back home. 

"You what?" It comes out sharp, meaner than he'd meant to, and Billy immediately cringes.

But Steve just laughs.

"Jesus, you're grumpy," He shakes the coffee cup at Billy. "You have that paper due monday, and you're gonna be bitchy all day tomorrow if you don't do anything for it today. Drink your coffee."

Billy's mouth falls open, and he can only listen to Steve's words repeating themselves in his mind while he traces Steve's features with his eyes – the playful angle of his eyebrows, the endless brown in his eyes, fixed on Billy, how his mouth curves softly upwards, deliciously red. He's wide awake, now.

Billy feels himself being pulled upwards by invisible strings, unable to look away from Steve. He gets his knees under himself and straightens up, hands stretched out, finding the perfect angle of Steve's jaw, thumbs nestled in the hollow of his cheeks. Steve's smile has given way to shock, and Billy would have pulled back if Steve hadn't swayed into him, eyelids fluttering, breath stuttering, eyes jumping between Billy's eyes and his mouth.

When their lips meet it's sweet, it's tender, it's more than Billy thought it could be, because Steve sighs into the kiss like he's relieved, sucks on Billy's lips like he's hungry, molds his body to Billy's like he never wants to feel cold air between their bodies again. Billy welcomes Steve's tongue like a cool drink, like fresh water, begs for more of it when it retreats. Billy can't get enough of it, can't get enough of him, not now that he has it.

Steve presses more sweet kisses on his lips once the first one breaks, like he can't bear for it to end, and Billy revels in it, on the soft, fluttering feeling they ignite in his chest. Steve's kissing him like he's something to be savored, a delight to be enjoyed carefully and slowly and patiently. It makes Billy's breath catch in his chest, and he wants to hold on to Steve, to clutch him tightly.

It ends with Steve's nose stroking along Billy's cheek, sending shivers down Billy's spine. He's clinging to Steve with his hands in Steve's hair, taking deep breaths under the guise of slowing his breathing down, but really he's taking in Steve's smell, the warm, woodsy tones of him under the apple scent of his shampoo. 

"Hey," Steve murmurs against his skin. Billy's grip on him tightens, and Steve kisses his cheek, maybe to assure him that what's coming isn't bad. "Your coffee's going cold."

It startles a laugh out of Billy. He'd forgotten about the coffee.

He pulls back just enough so Steve can disentangle his arm and hand Billy the cup, and when he takes a sip, it's on the hotter end of warm. 

"It's good," Billy says, and the smile Steve gives him is wide and toothy.

"I, uh…" Steve fumbles to put the sandwich bag he was still holding on Billy's bedside table, then settles a hand on Billy's waist. It's the first touch of Steve's hands on him, and it burns deliciously. "I should– let you get back to your paper."

Steve ducks his head, hair flopping into his eyes, suddenly looking shy. Like he's not sure Billy wants him to stick around.

Billy sets the coffee cup aside. He winds his arms around Steve's waist, draws him close, so he has no doubt of where Billy wants him to go.

"Screw the paper," Billy says, and Steve stares at him with his mouth open. "Come here."

And Steve kisses him.

-----

send me a number from this list of soft prompts

[the0retically]

The Suckening thoughts-#6 Meet Your Maker:

Spoilers below but my god that was a cool episode

- The intros get crazier and crazier and I love it

- Part 2?? Oh!! Goodness I have no idea how many episodes there will be of this and I’m so Scared because they all said it emotionally destroyed them

- …why are they spending this long on this intro,,,,please

- GOD THE MUSIC SLAPS SO MUCH NATHAN HANOVER THANK YOU FOR MAKING AN AMAZING SCORE

- GREFGORE NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO CHARLIE PLEASE

- Emizel’s “I HAVE QUESTIONS!” makes me So sad

- “Arthur do you see Grefgore anywhere?” SHILOOOOOOO :((((((

- “Arthur please just wait for like 45 minutes” “….is there a pet store nearby” PLEASE??

- SIBLING BONDING EXERCISE!!

- God why are they going back in????

- Ok yeah cat emizel, he has claws

- This is a nightmare what the hell, but good! Go get Grefgore!

- SHILO?? GO WITH YOUR BROTHER

- They’re just redoing it??????? Y’all pleaseeeeee…Charlie’s just like “yeah this will be Exactly the same!!”

- “What is another life for Grefgore!” Shilo I love you, thank god you’re going to try and get him

- And god emizel is Alone what the hell

- And they had to leave Condi alone goodness

- NO! THATS THE QUESTION HE WANTS ANSWERED?? brooooooo

- Ok that entire exchange made me so sad, he lost when him and the demons got their hideout, sure he was able to get Grefgore back (LETS GOOOOOOOOO!!!!!) but he Still does not have an answer to why he was abandoned and Shilo got to stay :((((( emizel buddy :(((

- Rip Arthur Petco is closed

- BIZLY IS SO HAPPY ABOUT GREFGORE BEING BACK!

- ……….weird digital glitching?? Excuse me?

- Also god why is Shilo’s aura mortal

- Awwwwwww shilo goes to hug grefgore!!

- “Can vampires regrow their heads?” “……………….what?” Oh god Grizz please don’t cut grefgore’s head off

- “Permission to hug you back my prince?” “Of course!” “Big day for grefgore!” PLEASE :)))

- “You still have many hours for the night” “is that true?” “….yeah?? No! You caught me in one of my DM lies!” iconic exchange

- Oh my god what is happening with this poor nurse, just let her go!!

- Oh god now this has become a sitcom bit what is happening, shilo is just concerned for this woman’s life but emizel and Arthur are trying to get her to get Vanya’s schedule

- :( Arthur telling the boys they don’t have to come with is Very sad

- “If Grefgore is truly a burden to you then I shall go get blood” GREFGORE NO YOURE NOT A BURDEN

- No vents? Damn rip

- Thank god no Arthur frenzy

- LAZARUS????? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

- He’s in the toilet???

- Oh a little family reunion!

- ……….why is this sus, is that really Lazarus?

- WHY IS HE PUSHING A PHEASANT THROUGH THE TOILET PORTAL?

- Charlie’s curse as a DM is just making insane animal noises

- …..is shilo allergic to birds?? Why is he sneezing bizly please let him enjoy the bird

- “Well it is what it is!” LAZARUS PLEASE

- The chaos of the twins to the seriousness of Arthur is Such a juxtaposition

- Oh…Arthur killed his family, god this is heartbreaking

- “Why did you use me?” “Because it was the most effective way” GOD PLEASE

- God props to Charlie and Grizz for this whole interaction, I love this

- OH STAKE RIGHT THROUGH HER HEART

- Arthur popping off, it’s incredibly sad but good for you! Burn her!!!!!! She’s the reason your family is dead, kill her!!!!

- Arthur I love you I’m so sorry your life has been this tragic

- EMIZEL DID NOT ANSWER AND SAY “YELLOW?”

- Jonny???? Oh god, why is there a hit on the demons??

- Thank god soda isn’t there! Please Charlie say soda isn’t there

- HA GRIZZ REALIZING THAT EMIZEL FORGOT THE GANG WAS SO GOOD

- But emizel remembers Theo at least!! That’s good!

- SHILO IS GETTING THE OLD PEOPLE TO BEAT UP EMIZELS SIRE????? IM CRYING OH MY GOD

- What???? Metal???? What is up with this vampire

- Please tell me emizel isn’t going to die again

- Why did they leave Grefgore behind???

- “YOU SHOULD’VE JUST LET ME SUCK YOU MAN!” “WELL I’M SORRY I SUCKED BACK!” ????????

- SHILO RALLY THE OLD PEOPLE!!!!!

- Charlie is that old man Earl????

- EMIZEL IS DEAD AGAIN??????

- “The Wylan twins send their regards” ??????? HUH??

- Shilo is just a sweet boy :( but GET OUT OF THERE

- SHILO GETS HIT TOO?

- “Next session is going to be the adventures of Arthur and Grefgore!”

- Shilo please get out of there

- GOOD RUN!! GET OUT OF THERE

- SHILO PLEASE YOU CANNOT DIE

- WHAT THE HELL

- TAKE GOD FOR REFLEXIVE HEALING

- MINUS FIVE TO EVERY ROLL??

- HE MADE IT! HE SACRIFICED THE OLD PEOPLE HES BLEEDING OUT BUT HES OK!!

- EMIZEL HI??

- Get out of the sun my boy!!

- Oh,,,,,,,oh no?? He has no arms or legs oh my god, he’s tied to a chair and his mouth is sewn shut????

- HORROR HORROR HORROR

- CHARLIE WHAT THE FUCK

- WHAT THE HELL??

- I don’t know why this encounter with the twins and emizel is the most terrified I’ve been with Charlie dming, holy shit

- WAIT EDWARD TWILIGHT?????? WHAT THE FUCK?????

- Emizel I love you, biting off your own tongue to spit at them is amazing he’s so iconic

- Viv and Vex,,,,,interesting

- GOD EMIZEL I LOVE YOU YOURE BADASS

- 7! God please don’t lose more I’m getting scared

- BUT GOD A GREAT EPISODE

[fadeawaywithyou]

im refusing to listen to the new taylor swift album. i gave midnights a chance, and was HEAVILY disappointed. everything I've heard in tiktok snippets and everyone's reactions have put me off, and i want to say that both adoration and annoyance, critics and applause, have put me off on both sides. so don't come at me with "oh don't listen to the HATERS" idgaf. i don't give a single fuck! I'm getting fucking TIRED of her brand being more and more obviously not who she really is, despite her being more and more insistent that it is. she's not a "tortured poet" she's a fucking billionaire pop artist. it's so weird seeing her try and capitalize on two very different personas: one where she's the queen of everything, a girlboss, god of pop, maker of the industry nobody can beat, haters can kiss her ass...but also so misunderstood and deep and introverted and please feel bad for her. Like, I'm sure she has problems, but i don't wanna listen about them after being subjected to her goddamn eras tour online and seeing her carbon footprint. go to a therapist, girl, I'm SURE you can afford it. what's her brand is now with the grey photography and shower thoughts feels so disingenuous when the first lyric i see (that's not a copypasta) from her long awaited "deep, tortured, you'll never understand how i grew up" album is about how your football boyfriend fingers you while on call with his video game buddies. i thought the line about wanting to live in slave times was a copypasta but it's real! girl shut the fuck up. the creek near by grandparent's house is deeper than you're entire 31 song album. the asylum that raised you gave you more power than GOD and you can make your fanbase sob with a london reference to a 4-month relationship TEN YEARS AGO. she has good music, but I'm hesitant to say she's still making good music. and even if she did every day i see her fans sob piss and shit themselves over a "thesaurus entry + middle school level philosophy" lyric i hate her more and more.

[freakingoutthesquares]

Poptastic Words: Alexis, Portraits: Pulp Interviewed back-stage at the Highbury Garage, 15 May 1993 Catharsis Fanzine, Issue 4 Transcription: Acrylic Afternoons

"I'm Candida. Hello. I play keyboards." "I'm Jarvis. I'm the singer." "I'm Steve. I play bass." "I'm Russell. I play guitar and violin." "Therefore Nick's the drummer." sums up Candida.

And there you have Pulp - the world's greatest pop band. A band who have "been in Smash Hits" and have even had the honour of having one of that magazine's "Single of the Fortnight". Not that Jarvis can see the band ever being as big as, say, Take That or East 17.

"I can't see too many posters going up."

Pulp were formed by Jarvis whilst at school and the current line up has been together for about five years. But why did they all want to be in a band in the first place?

"I think we wanted to frustrate ourselves," says Candida.

"We're complete sado-masochists," backs up Nick.

Is it what you all always wanted to do?

"Yeah," confirms Jarvis. "I, kind of, wanted to do it at school. I used to imagine, when I was in the school's dinner queue, that I wouldn't have to queue up if I was famous. It's not particularly true. That's what I thought it would be like but it's not."

So, after deciding he wanted to be a pop star, Jarvis went to film school. Why?

"That was after we'd been doing the band for a while but I was disillusioned. We'd been messed around by loads of record companies and the final straw was when the bass player became a born again Christian and left the band. It all seemed a big mess. We didn't actually split the band up but I thought I ought to do something else cos it's all I'd been doing since I left school and I thought my brain was drying up. I thought I ought to do something else to keep it alive a bit."

Now it's 1993 and it's going to be a good year for Pulp. Their records are being picked up on - their last single 'Razzmatazz' got Single of the Week in Melody Maker - and it is rumoured that they have signed to Island Records.

"We're with them spiritually..."

"I don't think we've signed or anything," says Jarvis over Nick.

"...we're, kind of, engaged. It's been a long engagement."

"But long engagements are the best," stresses Russell.

Why do you think it's taken so long for Pulp to be appreciated (Pulp has been around in various forms for about fifteen years)?

Steve: "It's our turn."

Jarvis: "We've been waiting in queue for a long time."

Steve: "It's like when you go to the Post Office and you want a stamp but you'll wait for everyone else to go."

Jarvis: "We're very polite y'see so we didn't push in."

Nick: "We wouldn't have that."

Jarvis: "So we waited our turn."

Did it get depressing in the meantime? "No," continues Jarvis. "There's always other things to do. If you choose to sit at home thinking, "Why aren't I famous?", then you would be quite a sad character. You can always ride your bike or something."

Did you think you'd be doing it this long when you first started?

"No. I would've been horrified. I always thought pop music was supposed to be quite instant. You didn't hang around for a decade. To be doing it for so long is very strange."

How did Pulp sound when you started?

"Awful."

"It was all feedback," explains Steve.

"Yeah," recalls Jarvis. "It was a noise. Not on purpose, or anything. It was just ineptitude. I started when I was young and we just couldn't play. We still can't play very well but I don't think that matters."

What does matter then?

"It's not what you can play, it's what you can say."

And what are Pulp saying?

"That's put you on the spot," cries Nick gleefully.

"Well, it's not that we've got something to say as in there's a big message for the world. U2 are trying to shake off that image now but before they were always doing the chest beating and coming up with their big slogans. It's not like that. Hopefully it's an accurate reflection of our lives."

In that case Pulp must lead very strange lives. The opening lines of 'Razzmatazz' were, "The trouble with your brother/he's always sleeping with your mother/and I know that your sister's missed her time again this month".

"I don't think they're seedy," states Jarvis. "They're just true to life. I think they're deadpan and down to earth. I don't think they're strange. Razzmatazz is a bit sad. Babies (the single before Razzmatazz... sample lyric: I wanna take you home/I wanna give you children) is just a thing you get up to when you are fourteen and certain things are still still taboo and you get into situations because of curiosity."

What does your mother think about your lyrics?

"I don't think she's bothered. She's not made any detrimental comments. She thinks the songs should be happier. I'd rather her take no notice actually because once I went round there at Christmas and she insisted on playing the record all the time when my relatives were there. It was embarrassing. Everyone comes up and pats you which isn't very good. Also, if you're on TV or radio at your mothers then it's very embarrassing."

"Shouldn't have your hair like that."

"Smile a bit more."

"Why don't you play some happy ones."

To get to know Pulp a little better we decided to ask each member of the band to describe the others. We allotted them one word per person. Below are the results.

Nick: Candida... petite. For Jarvis I'd say dishevelled. Steve is organised and Russ is er... too tough sometimes.

Candida: Nick's loud. Jarvis is temperamental. Steve is organised and Russell is good at business.

Jarvis: For Nick I would say... high. Candida is fluorescent. Steve is clean. Russell... I'd say feedback.

Steve: Nick is too loud. Candida is calm. Jarvis is unique and that's not a compliment. Ha Ha Ha. Russell is manic.

Russell: Nick is Jean Paul. Candida is toys. For Jarvis I'd say praying mantis and Steve I would say is a cigar.

During this game several compliments and disparaging remarks were handed out and taken with apparent ease and false stroppiness in turn. Pulp complimenting each other makes them happy, but what is the nicest thing an outsider could say about them?

"I don't know. I get embarrassed if people are nice to me," says Jarvis whilst Russell lines up the butts of his cigarettes in size order. "l find it hard to accept people being nice. I always think they' re after something."

"You're paranoid," offers Steve as an explanation. "l don't know why it is. It's like when you eat out at a restaurant, not that I do very often, but when I do I don't like the waiters always coming over and supposedly being nice. (Adopts slimey voice.) "Is everything O.K. for you sir?". I find that makes my flesh crawl. I'd rather they just give it to you and then let you eat and talk to whoever you're with."

"The nicest thing someone could do to you is put a plate of food down and walk away?" asks Russell incredulously.

"I don't mean just slap it down. Put it down, then go away. I don't want them hanging around with the violin in your ear. The niceness is a bit like that."

Do you also hate it when people are horrible to you Jarvis?

"Oh yeah. I like general blandness. Ha Ha Ha. If somebody comes up to you and says "You're great", it's nice but it's also..."

"...a conversation killer," finishes Russell.

"It's a northern thing as well," observes Steve. "In Sheffield no one Would ever go up and say, "I think you're great"."

"That's why," confirms Russell, "it's uncool. It's us that's wrong but..."

"The best compliment we get is if someone says we're alright. It's good to know that other people like you but you'd rather hear it second hand," explains Jarvis.

"The first time someone said it to us we thought we'd misheard them," says Nick.

"Do you know who we are?" adds Russell.

"Yeah," continues Nick. "l thought they'd got the wrong band."

You said earlier that you don't like people being mean to you - does criticism upset you?

"Well" says Jarvis with a pained expression, "if somebody writes something like, "He's a tall, lanky streak of piss with no discernible talent. How has he managed to delude himself for so many years?" you can't just go, "Oh, yeah. Fair enough, everybody's entitled to their own opinion"."

"Truth hurts. Ha Ha Ha." comments Steve.

"It's too bad they were right," agrees Russell rubbing more salt into Jarvis's wounds. "We do like people to like us. We're not just doing this for ourselves. We want people to like it."

"But we don't pander," warns Jarvis.

What do you think about the "Crimplene scene" which is the current press play thing? Does it bother you that you've been lumped into that?

"We started it," boasts Steve jokingly.

"I don't think it exists. It's not healthy," complains Jarvis. "No. Crimplene makes you sweat. We'd rather be the British cotton scene."

"It's true," supports Nick. "Avoid Crimplene at all costs."

"I like seventies bands like Denim. Is that the Crimplene scene?" asks Russell.

From what I've read, it's you, Suede, Saint Etienne etc.

"We used to get compared to Marc Almond and World Of Twist so..."

"If I was going to chose a scene to be associated with," remarks Steve, "it would be that one but it's not like we meet at Oxfam on a Saturday afternoon and fight over classic Crimplene. None of us like it."

"I still don't think it exists," says Jarvis persistently.

If there is a scene then Pulp are the leaders of the pack. They might not be the biggest, but they are the best. In terms of sex, glamour and everything that counts they are the only band you need to know. They leave the rest of their ilk in a trail of dust. The songs are gorgeous uplifting affairs with secret tales of suburban life as lyrics. It is pure genius.

"A lot of sexual perverts like us," offers Russell helpfully. "They write us strange letters. Post grunge and post shoe gazing there is a new sort of person on the streets and they like us. People in stripey tops quite like us."

"French people like us," announces Candida.

Do any of you ever get recognised in the streets?

"Yeah," states Jarvis. "I was saying to Russell the other day, that I've always had people taking notice of me in the streets in Sheffield - usually in a bad way. They called me names and things. It does still happen. In fact I nearly had a fight yesterday 'cos this boy decided to push me. But people have started to recognize me and be a bit more friendly now. It's strange 'cos I'm always getting ready to flinch when they come up and then they say something nice and catch me off guard."

What names did they call you?

"Because I've always worn glasses it just used to be someone famous with glasses. Elvis Costello, Buddy Holly. Just anybody who wore glasses. I used to have a beard for a bit and then I was called Rolf Harris all the time. They weren't very imaginative."

Well, those people were obviously mad. Jarvis is, without a doubt, a sex symbol for the nineties along with all the others in the band. At the gig that took place after this interview Jarvis was practically pulled off the stage by adoring females. O.K. - so we know they are attractive, but how sexy out of ten does each member of the band think he/she is?

"We're all going to say ten aren't we?" asks Candida.

"You might, but I wouldn't," retorts Steve.

"I think it changes during the day," decides Nick. "When you get up in the morning you're probably a minus. The later it gets the better it gets. If it's a good day you might peak at two."

"You just about make a two, Steve," jokes Jarvis.

"Anyone who says above seven has problems," says Steve wisely.

"You'd catch them playing with themselves in front of a mirror when you came in here," suggests Jarvis.

"That means you were about a nine in the van today, then, when we set off," says Steve whilst trying to wind up Jarvis.

"Yeah?"

"I didn't think you were a nine, you thought you were."

"Self-masturbation," adds Nick helpfully.

"That's another thing that other people have to decide upon," Jarvis remarks sensibly.

"Obviously it's nice if people do find you that way."

At this point Nick's brother enters the room and Russell starts loudly announcing that "this one goes up to eleven" if you twist the nipple and put a little shilling in the slot. Everyone has hysterics.

But, don't get me wrong, Pulp take what they do incredibly seriously. They are a deadly serious band. I know this because Nick told me four times. They are funny, the music is not. Pulp are also clever, sexy, glamorous, beautiful, talented, strange, normal, erotic, under-famous, unique, sleazy, stylish and every other compliment ever. If you feel the need to check out the high life or if you just need that extra sparkle - look no further than Pulp. They're the most fun you'll ever have.

You can write to Pulp at P.O. Box 87, Sheffield, S6 2YZ and you can become a Pulp person by sending £3 to the same address.

[omegaremix]

Rioux, 1999.

Post-Brentwood was a turning point in my life. The minute I heard Sick Of It All played at Drew’s (♀) graduation party was the very minute my music tastes would change forever. As an Eighties’ kid, I grew up on Duran Duran, Run DMC, Alisha, Lisa Lisa & The Cult Jam, Poison, and other chart-toppers. Anything could be ‘pop’ if it becomes popular enough. That’s how it got its name. Pop set me up to be diverse person I am now with stations like New York City’s Z100 where there’s a new market trend manufactured and released every five years to be fed on by the majority.

“Maladjusted” blasted through her backyard boombox for all of fifty of her closest friends and classmates to hear; the same friends and classmates who laughed at me or ignored me for being a poser. They weren’t laughing or shit-talking behind my back now that they saw me at Drew’s get-together. “How did he get in?” they wondered. That didn’t matter. They didn’t say shit to me. I never saw most of them again after that, nor did I keep tabs, either. I asked Drew who they were and she told me. Boy, did it go down angry and aggressive. I didn’t hear anything like it. So I went to the South Shore Mall’s record store and copped Scratched The Surface on cassette to quickly become my go-to record during senior-year summer. That was my introduction to hardcore and the start of something more personal and relatable than what I listened to before.

Shortly thereafter, Wipeout XL came out for Playstation and my trajectory in taste had changed for a second time. It was one of the first games released that had a major soundtrack thanks to disc capacity. A line-up of Underworld, Fluke, Photek, Future Sound Of London, The Prodigy, and Chemical Brothers gave me a three-month head start before - you guessed it - pop and alternative rock stations jumped on that wagon as the next great profit maker. Even stations changed their formats for a night or two to keep up with the hottest trend of the year, such as when Atari Teenage Riot slipped through the airwaves and literally changed my attitude of music. Another hand would be dealt, and one which was the most fascinating: industrial. Mortal Kombat motion picture soundtracks were the gateway to it after establishing Nine Inch Nails, Filter, and Ministry as my Big Three. I snatched up on three Meat Beat Manifesto tapes, four Skinny Puppy discs, The Wax Trax box set and label mail order, and some Cleopatra label compilations. (Yeah, I know. No need to tell me.) It all goes to show how a lot can happen in one year before heading to community college.

Whether or not I had employment, I still managed to purchase tons of music. It became a beast I constantly had to feed. I had record store visits, radio, magazines, and now the internet (‘world wide web’ they once called it) to keep me updated. Every week I found something new to check out. Oh, look. Alec Empire is on the cover of another magazine! The December 1997 issue of Wire, #166. Have to buy it as his stock was riding high with (once again) Atari Teenage Riot and his DHR label. On the way to Empire’s glow-up were two other artists I came across in their pages: Autechre (who they proclaimed as noise gods) and Merzbow.

When you keep hearing the same names over and over, eventually they’ll get you to check them out. That’s what happened with those two and with expectations - what you shouldn’t have when diving into an artist or album. Autechre’s Tri Repetae++ caught me off guard. They said it was an electronic record and I foolishly thought it was techno instead. I hear the album opener “Dael” expecting a build-up leading to an explosion of sound. Wrong. The minimal structure and complex melodic rhythms of a cold, mechanical, emotionless being started as-is and moved its way to the end. This wasn’t anything to a traditional dance record I was accustomed to. No. These were experiments that Sean Booth and Rob Brown created which were so innovative that they’ve gotten endless praise for them since. A few listens later and I had Tri Repetae++ on constant repeat.

Merzbow? That’s another story. Like Tri Repetae++, I bought Pulse Demon at the Port Jefferson Music Den, once a bastion of everything obscure which hasn’t existed in 20 years. That was my introduction to noise. Fucking Lady Godiva riding on a Sybian did I not know what was in store for me that day. It was the shiniest and sharpest-sounding thing I now had in my collection. I load the disc in, pressed play and - what?! It was one giant maelstrom of harsh white noise, produced and output louder than usual, complete with Bridget Riley-esque op-art and its silvery prismatic sheen. Pulse Demon was devoid of any rhythm, melody, beats, measurements, sound structure, tonality, vocals, or even a sense of time whatsoever. It was a giant endurance test that felt like there was no end in sight. Again, expectations are a foolish thing to ask for.

I didn’t know what to think. I immediately dismissed it and never played it again. I couldn’t say I was actively disappointed or put-off but rather dissuaded. It was nothing what I experienced. Back then, I was a feature writer for the student paperduring my disastrous time at community college’s middle campus. The campus majority consisted mostly of shallow club-goers and superficial people who stood in their safe comfort zone of basic dance music, fashion, and friends who judged and dismissed anyone who were weird or different from them. I always went against the grain and reached for something different and challenging; things that loudmouth belligerent chauvinist Opie & Anthony fans were too stupid to learn from. I had no other albums to review on the backburner, so Pulse Demon was it for the following issue. I was honest about my take on it: it was an unlistenable mess of a joke. I handed in my 1,000 words to our features editor, a long-haired burnout held over from the hippie generation, and it finally saw print in one of our Spring issues.

The day after my review came out, I was called in to the office by my editor-in-chief Phil. Somehow we got word from a professor who read my article and took issue with it. “Really?” I said. But it didn’t stop there. Phil also told me that Professor Rioux wanted me to visit his office to discuss the article with him.

I failed an article for a professor I didn’t even know I had?

Phil had him for English. But not to fear. The overall consensus was that he was friendly, calm, and reasonable with his students. And here was an odd moment he shared with me: Pfr. Rioux played some of his favorite weird music during an end-of-the-semester holiday party for his students to hear. Seriously, not to fear. He sounded like someone I would connect with. Phil assured me that all would be fine and ended up arranging a time and day to meet up with him. That would be next week Wednesday after the publisher’s meeting.

I arrive at Prf. Rioux’ office where he welcomed me in and introduced himself, dressed up in the usual teacher’s attire of blazer and dress pants. So far, so good. I sat down in his office and looked around to notice two rows of tapes sitting on a desk next to his bookshelf. There was a Temple Ov Psychick Youth cross hung up on the wall and also noticed the black shirt he was hearing under his blazer which featured Aube’s Quadrotation on it.

We sat down for a good 45 minutes discussing my article. Not once was Prf. Rioux mean, belittling, or off-handed - unlike others who called themselves ‘professors’. Rather, he gave me constructive criticism. Judging by my article, he told me that I missed the mark on Merzbow and didn’t come into the album open-minded. Clearly I didn’t understand noise music enough for me to write what I did and there was way more to it than I thought. The most important takeaway was that I shouldn’t have compared noise to anything else in a traditional sense. Sure, it was an entirely different animal that can still have value, substance, a structure, a methodology, and a meaning to it all like everything else.

So he kindly offered to make me three cassettes of whatever rang familiar and whom I was curious about to widen my horizons and get a better understanding. All early industrial and / or noise. Wonderful. I obliged. One week later, I returned to his office where he had them all ready for me. I thanked him for the tapes and said goodbye to him.

What was on those tapes? First, Merzbow. Not surprisingly. Three unknown tracks from the Lord of Harsh Noise. On the other side was Masonna, another Japanese noise artist whose Inner Mind Mystique finished up tape #1. Tape #2 was more varied. I heard very little of Coil other than “The Snow” off the Wax Trax compilation. Right after that was Jim G. Thirwell / Foetus whom followed up with three tracks. (Coincidentally, both aforementioned artists remixed Nine Inch Nails). Rioux threw on three tracks from Einsturzende Neubauten’s Kollaps with a small sampling of Clock DVA tracks from Black Souls In White Suits. Our final tape had a good ten tracks of Death In June whom I never heard of, and several versions of Throbbing Gristle’s “Discipline” rounded out all that Prf. Rioux gave me. Never had I received anything like it from any professor.

I was forever grateful. I played those tapes to good use, enough to go back into my usual grind of music and artist reviews with a better understanding and reasoning. I didn’t review any of the artists after that Merzbow debacle, but my stance of him changed for the better and went back to Pulse Demon several more times. I happened to purchase several more of his albums where I could, dove back into Inner Mind Mystique and picked up on Nic Endo’s White Heat when that was released. I pushed more heavily into Einsturzende Neubauten’s chaotic phase, Clock DVA’s experimental era, and the world of Throbbing Gristle. I would be only toes deep with the other artists; checking in from time to time.

What were the chances that anyone (who appreciated the genesis of industrial and a knowledgeable noise fan) would notice a specific artist printed in a campus newspaper no less? It was bad enough that I dealt with one disappointment after another interacting with people and trying to find my place on campus; which I eventually did with neutral results. Where reaching out to people with similar tastes in music were few and far between (only one or two people on campus wore Dead Voices On Air, Ant-Zen, and Ras DVA shirts), someone reached out to me instead. Of all the professors I ever had, no one and I mean no one had that kind of knowledge that Prf. Rioux did, with mixtapes to boot, too.

As his tapes played in my Walkman while trekking around campus, everything else around me was happening as usual. Cover bands and boring flavorless local bar acts peppered the Long Island music scene. WBLI continued to pump out more puerile paint-by-number club mixes as usual with Fatboy Slim and Robbie Williams up next. Ska fans hopped out of the woodwork to defend their precious circus music and became overnight know-it-all elitists ready to play the scene-politics card. And free pink PVC cowboy hats came included with Pamela Anderson, Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, Spice Girls, and Limp Bizkit worship. Forget it. The late Nineties was clearly a bad era in music and pop culture - and it still had time to get even worse. The only places of solace I had were the few record stores I frequented. Commack’s Cheapo’s, West Babylon’s Looney Tunes, Central Islip’s Mother’s Music, Port Jefferson’s Music Den, and Centereach’s None Of The Above. At least they catered everything to my choosing.

But I never forgot where I came from or lost track of where I headed. By the time I attended Stony Brook, I fell victim to the Mothers Of Noise ‘scandal’ and discovered Prurient from it. I’d be one of the few on campus familiar with Whitehouse, Boyd Rice / NON, and even Lou Reed’s Metal Machine Music on top of everything else.Each and every one of these artists were mentioned in my new wave of reviews and I even featured on my radio show. I also never forgot those tapes. I still have them, and they became one of the few shining reminders of an era that was mostly ill to me.

Cassette #1, side A:

Merzbow: “???”, “???”, “???”

Cassette #1, side B:

Masonna: Inner Mind Mystique

Cassette #2, side A:

Coil: ”Panic”, “Tenderness Of Wolves”, “Clay”, The Anal Staircase”

Foetus: “What Have You Been Doing?”, “Today I Started Slogging Again”, “Gums Bleed”

Cassette #2, side B:

Einsturzende Neubauten: “Tanz Debil”, “Steh Auf Berlin”, “Kollaps”

Clock DVA: “Consent”, “Anti-Chance”, “Uncertain”

Cassette #3, side A:

Death In June: “Hello Angel”, “Heaven Street”, “She Said Destroy”, “Fall Apart”, “Leper Lord”, “C’est Un Reve”, “Touch Defiles”, “The Torture Garden”, “Come Before Christ…”

Cassette #3, side B:

Throbbing Gristle: three live “Discipline” performances.

[seginbeats]

[Mii Maker Music]

This is going to be an awkward/potentially uncomfortable post to make, but, I have some genuine things to remind people of:

Tumblr is not a very accessible platform for me to RP on. You will notice that I rarely do back and forth threads, and that's because I am mobile bound 98% of the time, unless I am on my iPad. Even then, using xKit and getting to use Trim Reblog is a major pain, and a major killer of spoons for me.

That is why you see me posting memes, sending asks, replying to asks, writing drabbles, doing dash commentary, etc. I work around my inability to sit here and go back and forth on threads, by leaning into immersion. I don't want anybody to think I am ignoring them.

That being said, I want to remind people that I am an independent rper. I have that on all of my blogs. I'm not an affiliate/bound to one specific group canon. I pop in and out of verses. I do my own thing. My posts, headcanons, etc., are not automatically gospel. They do not need to be accepted by everybody. I'm not sitting here with a sword held out, demanding that people acknowledge it as canon for them as well. Just because it appears on the dash, does not mean you are forced to accept it. People are free to interact as much or as little as possible. I do keep my roleplay loose and open enough for people to jump in with ease though, because this is the easiest way for me to write on this website.

I really feel as though I need to remind people of this, because the definition of "independent" seems to be getting lost. I don't write in a linear fashion, therefor, I cannot always accommodate plots and events that are considered part of an RPC canon. And that's okay. Because I am independent, not affiliate.

Anyway, I'm posting this because I'm aware that my thing that I wrote with Giacomo doesn't fit into everybody's worldbuilding/verses, and-- that's literally okay folks. I don't want anybody to take my stuff and demand that people accept it as canon, because that is rude to people who may not want to use that story beat in their own writing. I mean shit, if I woke up tomorrow and decided to retcon anything on my blog, that's in my right. Because I'm independent. And anybody who is an indie blog has that right.

At the end of the day, it's common courtesy to ask your rp partner whether or not they are okay with bringing in certain lore or events, because not everybody is involved in certain plots and verses. I ask that everybody who did decide to join in for that group rp utilize that courtesy.