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aion-rsa · 4 years

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Why The Bee Gees Were More Than Saturday Night Fever

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Generations of music fans know the Bee Gees — British-born, Australia-based brothers Barry, Robin and Maurice Gibb — as the musical act that created the songs for Saturday Night Fever, the 1978 movie that made John Travolta a star and catapulted what was known at the time as “disco” music to the forefront of pop culture.

But not only did the Bee Gees create indelible dance staples like “Stayin’ Alive,” “Night Fever,” and “More Than a Woman,” but they had an entire career before Saturday Night Fever, one which was launched in the 1960s and yielded pop classics like “How Do You Mend a Broken Heart,” “To Love Somebody,” “Massachusetts,” “I Started a Joke,” and more, before their gradual turn toward R&B and dance with hits such as “Jive Talkin’” and “Nights on Broadway.”

Along the way, the Bee Gees broke up, battled each other and various addictions, went through dizzying career ups and downs, wrote hits for other artists and succumbed to tragedy, with Robin, Maurice, and younger brother Andy (who started as a solo act before joining his siblings in the Bee Gees) passing away in 2012, 2003 and 1988 respectively.

They also experienced one of the most vicious backlashes in pop history as the tide turned against disco by the end of the 1970s — a backlash that may have been fueled by racism and homophobia as well as the oversaturation of the market.

Now the entire story of the Bee Gees has been chronicled in an excellent new documentary, The Bee Gees: How Can You Mend a Broken Heart, which premieres this weekend on HBO in the US and Sky Documentaries in the UK. The film is directed by Frank Marshall, the legendary producer whose own track record with Amblin and his own Kennedy/Marshall Company includes films such as the Indiana Jones series, the Back to the Future trilogy, Poltergeist, the Jurassic Park/World saga, Who Framed Roger Rabbit?, Arachnophobia (which he also directed), The Sixth Sense and many more.

Den of Geek had the privilege of speaking with Marshall about his own view of the Bee Gees, working with Barry Gibb and the families of the other brothers, their place in pop culture and more.

Den of Geek: I went into this film not being a particularly huge Bee Gees fan, but certainly knowing who they are and knowing certain parts of the legacy like Saturday Night Fever. I came out of it wanting to get all those early albums and just fascinated by their whole story.

Frank Marshall: Well, thanks. It was an extraordinary journey. That’s what I love about documentaries, you don’t know where you’re going, unlike my day job where I know everything I’m doing that day. This was such a great journey of discovery and so I’m glad you enjoyed it.

I read that your father was a musician and you play guitar yourself, so music has always been an important part of your life.

Yeah. That was the connection here, that I grew up in a musical family. My dad was a guitar player and conductor and composer. He was actually under contract at Capitol Records. So there was a lot of connective tissue that went into this. So it kind of made sense to me. It was kind of natural.

What was your first exposure to the Bee Gees and what was it about them that struck a chord for you, so to speak?

When I thought back I knew their early songs because I grew up obviously in the ’60s, ’70s, but they really didn’t have an impact for me until Saturday Night Fever. I was shooting The Warriors, which was also at Paramount, and so it was a big deal to have this movie soundtrack suddenly become such a giant success. That was my first realization that they were pop superstars. The music from the movie was incredible. The songs were all different and really fit to the movie. Then to find out later, when I’m doing this doc, that none of it was planned, that’s incredible.

I love that portion of the documentary where it comes out that some of the execs at Paramount at the time were looking down at the “little disco movie” and had no idea what it was going to become.

Certainly, at that moment I happened to be at Paramount when that was going on. We were doing The Warriors, and I remember hearing about a little disco movie. John Travolta was a TV star. Nobody saw this coming.

What inspired you to do a film about the Bee Gees? You worked with Martin Scorsese on The Last Waltz, which is a very different film, but in terms of how to make a great music documentary was that an inspiration?

Well, Marty’s kind of an inspiration for whatever you want to do. But I’ve always loved documentaries. I’ve never really had the opportunity to do them just because they take so long and they’re so involved, and I’ve had my day job. But we started dabbling. I directed my first short doc about 10 years ago and I really loved it, but it was only 50 minutes and it was a very specific subject. We’ve kind of been dabbling in them and then Kennedy/Marshall, about five, six years ago, started really making them.

I was over at Capitol Records meeting with the head, a fellow named Steve Barnett, who had just remodeled and refurbished Capitol Records. I was marveling at how fabulous it was and it reminded me of my early days with my dad and being there and everything. So we started talking about documentaries or stories that might be told at Capitol.

He said, “Well, I just acquired the Bee Gees catalog. We want to try some to do some things to reintroduce and reinvigorate the catalog, and we think a documentary would be great.” I said, “Hey, I’m in. I’ve always thought there were an amazing group and I’d love to get into how that all came about.” So it was being in the right place at the right time for me, and that was four years ago.

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What would you say is the secret to a good documentary?

I think you have to dive deep. I think it can’t be superficial and you can’t tell a story that people know. I think you really have to dig deep into the characters to find that. You start with a general arc and for me it was the family and this gift of creativity that they had. But where did it come from?

The reason I went and got Nigel Sinclair to produce this was I looked at the fabulous doc that he did with Ron Howard on the Beatles and I said, “If they can find footage that had never been seen before of the Beatles then he can help me find footage for this.” It has to be one of those things that had never been seen before.

It needs to have some weight to it. As they say, it needs to be authentic, it needs to be real. You can’t pull wool over people’s eyes. They know if it’s a puff piece. This one, it has its ups and downs. It’s got its joyous moments but there’s also some tragedy. It’s happy and sad. So I think that it really makes for the right story and it’s right for a documentary.

Were Barry Gibbs and the families of the other brothers up for it from the start, or did it take some convincing?

Well, it started with Barry. I met Barry when he came out here for the Grammy tribute and we kind of hit it off, I think, because I’m the oldest in my family, I have younger brothers, and we both grew up in a musical family. So we shared a lot of commonality. You have to get to know each other. I traveled down to Miami several times where we’d just talked. We didn’t shoot, we didn’t do any interviews. Then he introduced me to the rest of the family. Obviously, he was blessing the project and he just felt it was just the right time.

Was one of your goals to show people that the Bee Gees were more than Saturday Night Fever? There may be generations who don’t even know that they sang “How Can You Mend a Broken Heart” or “Massachusetts” or any of those other songs.

Yeah, I think it was really to reintroduce them to fans, but also introduce the younger generations of music buffs and music fans to who they really are. We’re really celebrating their legacy and what incredible songwriters they were.

They were this group that everybody knew, but I have two 20-year-old daughters and when I started putting on songs like “Islands in the Stream” and “Guilty,” they go, “Oh yeah, Barbra Streisand wrote that,” or “That’s Dolly Parton.” I said, “No, it isn’t. This is the Bee Gees.” They go, “What?” So, you’re right. There are all these songs that people know, but they don’t realize the songwriting gifts that the Bee Gees had as well.

One of the most shocking moments in the film was the Disco Demolition Night and the analysis of it by Vince Lawrence, who was a security guard at Comiskey Park for that event. When he started talking about pulling the Isaac Hayes and Al Green records out of the bonfire, that just blew me away. And the backlash against the Bee Gees was unbelievably intense.

When you delve into what was that about, I remember it but you don’t understand the impact society was having on music in those days and on the career of these guys. They were on the front wave of global superstardom. It wasn’t just local superstardom. They didn’t understand what was happening. They were just caught up in the changes and trends happening in society and the music was reflecting that. It’s the same kind of backlash that’s happening today about what you believe in.

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First of all, they weren’t disco artists. They got labeled that. But, as you know, they were R&B, they were rock, they were so many other things, but they got labeled as this and then they got blamed for it. It wasn’t their fault. It was really unfair. It was that thing that we talk about in the movie that so often happens to superstars. Now, we understand it but back then they didn’t. So we went to explore why and that’s when we found Vince and we found Nicky Siano to really set and authenticate what was going on.

Nicky (a resident DJ at Studio 54 during the disco era) mentions in the doc how disco became such a success that the music industry basically oversaturated the market with it, which I think is also something you see in the film business. A superhero movie becomes big, so let’s shove 10 more superhero movies out there as soon as possible.

I think Nicky says it, it’s about greed. They lose sight of why it’s successful and then oversaturate and then people get angry and there’s a backlash. The Bee Gees were writing other songs as well, but it was that huge reaction to Saturday Night Fever that wasn’t their fault, but they got blamed for it.

When you meet a Barry Gibb, or work with Steven Spielberg or even Orson Welles, as you did early in your career, is there something different about their personalities, the way they look at the world that ties them together as these creative visionaries?

Well, yes, I guess. They’re all perfectionists. They don’t let it go until it’s out the door and they’re made to let go. That’s the commonality. What’s amazing to me, particularly in the case of the Bee Gees, was that Barry was a collaborator. He took this input from everybody around him and that’s what created the musicality that came into their songs. It wasn’t just one thing.

He took ideas from here and from there and said, “Give us a riff over there or play that thing that you played last night.” He remembers it and that was all the creative process for him and he was natural. I think that’s what I see with Steven and certainly with Orson and with Barry is that it came naturally. It’s not work. They’re just naturally creative and that’s really the gift.

What would you like people to take away from seeing this, either brand new fans or older fans?

Well, I think it’s about the longevity and the fact that they were loving brothers. It was complicated, families are complicated, but their incredible musical gift and the impact that they’ve had on the pop music culture should not be underestimated. I think that’s what I want to do, is celebrate their legacy and hopefully people will rediscover them and discover them anew.

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This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

The Bee Gees: How Can You Mend a Broken Heart premieres this Saturday (December 12) on HBO in the US and on Sunday (December 13) via Sky Documentaries in the UK.

The post Why The Bee Gees Were More Than Saturday Night Fever appeared first on Den of Geek.

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turning-the-kaleidoscope · 5 years

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“Through Hardships to the Stars” - Chapter 6

Chapter 6 - “A Sense of Normality”

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Arataka has always been a dog person at heart, but Soft’s company is just as welcomed.

She didn’t leave Shigeo or Ritsu’s sides until she was certain they were both fast asleep, but immediately after, she crawled out from under the blanket and redoubled her pace once she was in the clear, climbing into Arataka’s lap and knocking her head under his chin like she’d known him her whole life. He’d pet her, she’d settled down, and that’s how they remained.

A glance at his phone tells him that it’s barely past two in the morning. Shigeo has finally settled down into something resembling “sleep”; the fever keeps him restless, but he’s definitely far deeper now than he’s been so far; Arataka keeps vigilant tabs on his fever, not just for Shigeo’s sake, but for Ritsu’s too. He’d made a promise and he’d be damned before he broke it.

He sets his phone off to the side and reaches over Soft to feel Shigeo’s cheek with the back of his hand. He’s still terribly warm and terribly flushed, but he’s asleep enough to not flinch against the touch. Arataka smooths stray, sweat-damp locks of hair out of his face and refreshes the washcloth on his head, before sitting back and letting his hand drift into Soft’s fur again. She nips at his fingers. It doesn’t hurt. When he looks down at her, she lifts her head and meets his eyes with a look he can’t quite put his finger on. He hadn’t many experiences with cats, and Soft is one of a kind.

“You’re worried about them too, huh?” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper, fingers tracing behind her ears, under her chin. “I’m sure they’ll be alright. They’ve made it too far for it to end here.”

Soft purrs her agreement and gnaws on his fingers again. He lets her without knowing why and returns his attention to Shigeo. Once again, like clockwork, he goes through the mental tasks: check his fever, check his response, check the washcloth. Repeat.

The next time he looks at his phone, it’s nearly three in the morning. Soft’s weight and warmth is almost uncomfortable now, but he can’t find it in him to shoo her off. Nor does he want her to leave.

Except, she does get up and move out of his lap. And that’s how he realizes Shigeo is awake.

His eyes are glassy and fever-bright, staring ahead like he doesn't know where he is. Soft slips under the blanket again and curls close to his chest, but Shigeo doesn't react at all.

Arataka moves closer, barely resisting the temptation to reach out. Instead, he murmurs a gentle, “Hey, Shigeo.”

Shigeo starts hard, as though he'd yelled instead of whispered, and this time Arataka does reach out to touch his shoulder. Shigeo flinches again. Their eyes meet. Arataka holds his gaze.

“It's alright, bud, don't strain yourself. You're alright.”

The panic doesn't fade. Not even a little bit. “R—Ritsu—”

“It's okay, he's here, he's right here, okay? Look.”

Shigeo's eyes fall on Ritsu, curled under the blanket barely five inches away, still fast asleep despite Shigeo's rustling.

Beneath his hand, Arataka feels Shigeo's shoulders slacken. The fear floods from his irises, and his eyes slip shut.

“I'm sorry.”

“It's alright,” Arataka assures, squeezing his shoulder. “No, seriously, it's alright. You're sick and exhausted, it's okay.”

“What time is it…?”

Arataka dreads telling him, but doesn't lie. “Late. Or, early, I guess. You should be asleep.”

“Sh-Shouldn't you be asleep too?”

“Nah, it's alright. Don't worry about me, ‘kay? Just rest.”

Shigeo knows why, though. He watches Arataka's face for only a moment longer before he turns away and burrows deeper into the blankets, almost as if he's trying to hide. The next time he speaks, his voice is so small, so quiet, so broken.

“I'm sorry.”

Arataka feels like someone just punched him in the jaw. The words kid, he's just a kid, they're kids flash through his mind's eye, but he pushes them aside for later. He'll deal with his own problems in his own time.

For now,

“Hey, it's okay. Like I said, you're just a little sick right now.” (More than a little, but he doesn't have to know that.) “I wanna look after you, alright?”

“Wouldn't you rather be sleeping?”

“Not really. I've pulled all-nighters before for less important stuff than this. There's nothing else I'd rather do, seriously.”

Shigeo doesn't look at him still. Arataka holds his breath, but in the end, doesn't say anything. He refreshes the washcloth and doesn't miss Shigeo's small, contented sigh of relief when it's returned.

Reigen is right where Ritsu left him last night: seated on the floor at Shigeo's side, eyes somehow wide awake and alert, carrying none of the exhaustion they rightfully should.

Ritsu sits up, blanket slipping from around his shoulders, and Reigen starts for a moment but smiles afterward. His smile is the only exhausted thing about him.

“Mornin’, kiddo.”

“G-Good morning,” Ritsu replies, before brushing some of the sleep from his eyes. “Did—Did you really stay up all night?” He’s only realizing now how selfish that’d been of him, to allow Reigen to do that in his stead. He shouldn’t have made him.

But Reigen doesn’t seem bothered by it. He nods. “‘Course I did,” he says. “I promised I’d look after Shige, didn’t I?”

He still can’t shake it. Memories of Shigeo flood his mind; always staying up later than he should’ve, always carrying dark smudges under his eyes, always exhausted, always pushing himself further than he could go. Ritsu’s hands curl and tremble.

“B-But, I—”

“Hey.” Reigen’s hand reaches his shoulder. He flinches, without meaning to, before settling into it and meeting Reigen’s eyes. Reigen smiles. “I said it’s okay, right? I can handle a few sleepless nights here and there, trust me. But you and your brother really need the rest. Besides, it gave me some time to think.”

Ritsu bites the inside of his cheeks. “You’re… You’re sure?”

“Positive.” And Reigen lets go and sits back, and Ritsu misses the warmth.

“Hi.”

Ritsu and Reigen's heads snap down. Shigeo blinks at them both, tired but awake.

“Hello,” he says again, slightly clearer this time. As though on cue, Soft pokes her head up, too, trilling happily.

“And the gang's all here,” Reigen says, beaming a little brighter. Before Ritsu can even react or ask how Shigeo is feeling, Reigen has reached out and is feeling his forehead. He lets his hand linger for a moment while the silence falls, but withdraws it shortly afterwards. “Well, it’s not much, but I think it definitely went down some. That’s a relief.”

He sits back and Ritsu scoots forward, until his knee nearly touches Shigeo’s shoulder. “How do you feel, Nii-san?”

Shigeo blinks at him a moment before nodding smally and letting his eyes drift shut. “I’m alright. I think—definitely better than last night.”

Ritsu nods wordlessly. A beat passes. Reigen stretches with a groan and hauls himself up to his feet, staggering just a bit before straightening up.

“Well, I’m gonna get breakfast going,” he says, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the kitchen. “Any requests?”

“A-Anything’s fine,” Ritsu says, because he doesn’t know what to say.

“You don’t have to make me anything,” Shigeo murmurs. “I’m not hungry.”

“Okay, well, too bad, because I’m making breakfast or all of us. Just eat what you can, alright? It’ll give your body fuel to work through. Help you recover faster. All that stuff.”

And it’d make Ritsu feel better, too. But he doesn’t say that, because he also doesn’t want to guilt Shigeo into eating more than he can handle.

Shigeo doesn’t respond to Reigen’s prompt, but it doesn’t seem to deter Reigen at all. He’s already begun brainstorming under his breath, taking to the kitchen in long strides. Soft actually leaps and bounds after him, meowing and curious.

“She’s funny,” Ritsu says, watching her tail disappear around the corner behind Reigen. “I’m really glad we found her, Shig—”

He turns back to his brother, and realizes that he’d fallen asleep again. And he doesn’t look nearly as bad as he did that one terrible night, when the icy chill pressed against them from all sides and the fact that they even made it through alive was a miracle, but he still has those circles under his eyes, still has that too-white touch to his skin (all except his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, which are flushed a sickly, feverish red).

Ritsu tugs the blankets up and around his shoulders, tucks them securely around him, and lets him sleep.

Reigen manages to get Shigeo awake and up long enough to eat a little something, but then he’s out again with Soft flopped on top of him and Ritsu on the futon nearby, sitting, knees drawn to his chest. His empty bowl of soup rests on the carpet beside the plastic medical box, and beside that are several bottles of water, some full, some half-empty, and some completely empty.

Ritsu draws in a shaky breath and rests his chin on his knees. Shigeo’s fever isn’t nearly as high now as it’d been (or, that’s what Reigen said, and it doesn’t make sense for him to lie, right?), but the amount of time he’s spent asleep is starting to get to him. Of course he’s glad Shigeo is resting, and god knows he has a lot of rest to catch up on, but Ritsu has never seen him out this much. He’s always been awake, always been tugging Ritsu along, always been mapping out their actions and, by extension, their lives.

He isn’t doing that, now. Can’t do that. And Ritsu is glad he can finally sleep like this, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t scare him.

The gentle thump of approaching footsteps makes him jump. “Hey, Ritsu, I—”

Reigen hits an invisible wall and stumbles back with a shout. A blue ripple runs from where he’d hit and stretches in a dome around the futon.

“S-Sorry!” Ritsu yelps immediately, and with a snap of his hand, the barrier is gone. “I-I didn’t even realize…”

Reigen waves one hand at him and holds his face with the other. “Don’t worry don’t worry don’t worry, you’re fine,” he says. He lowers the hand from his face, looks down at his fingers. There’s no blood or injury. “Pretty nifty thing, though. What do you call it?”

“A b-barrier,” Ritsu answers, still guilty, but less guilty now that he knows Reigen isn’t hurt. “I-I’m not very good at them yet, but Shige is.”

“So they’re like force fields?” Ritsu nods and Reigen comes to sit beside him, heaving a sigh once he’s off his feet. “That’s pretty cool.”

“You’re… taking all this really well.”

“Taking what well?”

“The whole…” Ritsu squeezes his knees closer. “The whole ‘psychic powers’ thing. You don’t think it’s weird?”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, it’s weird as hell. There’s just more important things I’m focused on instead. Psychic powers don’t matter much, really.”

“You’re…” Ritsu doesn’t know what to think, let alone what to say. “Are—Are you serious?”

“Yep. I mean, it’s no different than people who are geniuses, people who are athletes, or people who talk a lot. It’s just another trait to your person, that’s all.”

“So you—you don’t care that we’re psychics? That doesn’t bother you?”

“I’m more bothered by the fact that you’ve been tracked down and attacked by an organization because of it,” Reigen says, tone thick, eyes staring ahead. “Who cares about psychic powers? You’re kids.”

Ritsu looks away, unsure of what to say to that. He’s seen ‘normal kids’ a lot, all the time, whenever he and Shigeo went out for the day. They’ve always seemed carefree enough. He’s tried to put himself in their shoes, to imagine what life would be if he and Shigeo were born slightly different, but he’s never been able to do it.

“I don’t really know what that means,” he admits finally. “The—The whole ‘kid’ thing. I don’t—really understand.”

Reigen watches his face for a moment. Ritsu can’t read the look on his. A second later, Reigen pushes himself to his feet again.

“Wait here just a second.”

“Oh, ok—okay,” Ritsu stammers, and Reigen spins and disappears around the corner into the hallway. He waits in silence, unmoving. He hears Shigeo’s breath, only somewhat raspy, and Soft is still purring as loud as ever. Ritsu can’t help but be anxious. He still doesn’t know what to call that look on Reigen’s face. It hadn’t looked like anything.

A door clicks shut in the hallway and soon after Reigen returns triumphantly, brandishing what looks like a deck of cards, but slightly different.

“Have you ever played UNO?”

Ritsu shakes his head. Reigen puts on a mock-horrified expression, placing one hand against his chest.

“You’ve never experienced the raw, unbridled glory of UNO?”

Ritsu shakes his head again. Reigen sits by him, shuffling the cards.

“Well, you’re in for something real special, then. I’ll teach you how to play.”

Ritsu scoots closer and Reigen begins dealing out the cards—right up until Soft nuzzles her head into his arm. He turns his head.

“Oh good morning again, Shigeo. Feel up to a quick game?”

Shigeo, for his part, looks equally tired and intrigued. He sits up slowly, looks at the deck of cards in Reigen’s hands.

“UNO?” he asks, brows pinched. Reigen nods enthusiastically, shuffling the cards again without the need for it.

“If you aren’t up to it, don’t worry,” he says, “but we’d love it if you played.”

Shigeo turns to Ritsu for just a moment, long enough for Ritsu to see his tired but relieved eyes, and then he scoots closer until the three of them form something like a circle.

“Sure, I’ll play.”

“Alright!” Reigen goes through the cards one last time, taps them against the futon until they’re lined up correctly, then begins dealing them out. “We all start with seven cards, I think—god, it’s been so long since I played—uhhh yeah let’s just go with seven for now. So, you can look at your cards, but don’t let anyone else see them, and the gameplay goes…”

He explains in great depth and detail, with excitement matched only by an over-enthusiastic sports commentator, and Ritsu and Shigeo listen and drink in every single word.

Getting into it, Arataka is certain that with his experience in the field of cards and games and whatnot, he’d be able to win the majority of the games. Besides, he had strategies in mind, and although he wouldn’t be intentionally trying to defeat the boys, he’d thought it was inevitable.

This is not how it goes.

Actually, it goes the exact opposite, and just as soon as Arataka is finished explaining the game and they finally get into it, he soon realizes that it is he who is being schooled.

Shigeo and Ritsu sit just beside each other, but never peer at the other’s cards. Even so, it’s like they always know what cards would best benefit the other.

“Wild Card,” Arataka says as Ritsu plays it. “What color?”

Ritsu looks at Shigeo, who glances back with the same expression. He has one card remaining.

Ritsu says blue, and Shigeo wins the round. They share a small smile and fist-bump while Arataka laments his failure.

“How do you do that!?” he complains, cards thrown on the floor in front of him. “What part of that expression said ‘blue’!?”

“That’s a good question,” Shigeo says, in a tone of voice that dictates clearly how little he cares. Arataka groans one more time and reshuffles the cards for their next round. Soft flops over on the deck as soon as he hands out the cards; he heaves a long, exaggerated groan, but it elicits a giggle from the boys, so he can’t complain.

The same thing happens, only this time with Shigeo and yellow and Ritsu with UNO. The time after that, the +2 cards stack and stack until Arataka ends up drawing eight, and the +4s are the equivalent of a bombshell wreaking havoc on the city that is the playing field. Arataka never winds up with these cards; Shigeo and Ritsu have them unfairly often.

“Are you sure you aren’t using psychic powers to beat me at my own game?” Arataka questions after his fourth loss; if he can blame his failure on something other than himself, he’ll take it.

Shigeo and Ritsu shake their heads, and Arataka goes on to lose for the fifth time in a row. He blames it on a subconscious use of psychic powers. Logic be damned.

By the time they start the seventh game of the evening, Shigeo’s head has lolled to rest on Ritsu’s shoulder. The exhaustion hasn’t faded from his eyes, but he seems peacefully content, and the two of them play on like nothing had changed.

It’s with the final card of the eighth game that Arataka sets down his stack and claps his hands together. “And with that,” he says, “let’s call it a day.”

“Really?” Ritsu asks; Shigeo gives Arataka the remaining two cards of his hand to be added with the rest of the deck. “What time is it?”

“Dunno,” Arataka says, stuffing the cards unceremoniously in their box with little heed to their security, “but we should still take a break. We can play again tomorrow if you want, alright?”

Shigeo and Ritsu share a small something; one of those expressions that Arataka can’t read, but the two of them can read scarily well. It’s Ritsu who nods at him, and Shigeo who closes his eyes.

“Thanks for playing with us,” Ritsu says. “That was… that was nice.”

Shigeo nods his agreement. Arataka’s chest is both tight and warm, and when he can’t find the right words to say, he smiles, stands, ruffles their hair in turn, and leaves to return the cards.

The night passes uneventfully. Arataka watches over Ritsu and Shigeo for the first several hours, but Shigeo’s fever is no longer on the rise, and he can’t keep pulling all-nighters like this. At this rate he’ll end up burning himself out, and with these kids now under his watch, he can’t afford that.

So he checks over them one last time—tucks a second blanket around their shoulders, pets Soft's head—before turning in for the night.

He leaves the door of his bedroom cracked to let him listen out for the boys, and then he takes a seat at his desk first, flipping through a couple papers for work. Forums for that dying psychic business of his, the rent for the apartment, the rent for the office…

Hell, could he even go back to consulting after everything he's seen? After he's seen the hurts these boys have gone through?

He sighs to himself and leans his elbows on the desk, carding both hands through his hair. It’d never really bothered him before, the conman thing. At least, never in a way that was this up in his face. He hated the part of him that was a liar, the part of him that was selfish, but he’d at least accepted that that was just something he’d have to deal with.

Now there are these kids, actual psychics, eleven and twelve year old children, on the run because of their psychic powers, because of an organization that’s been hunting them since before they could read (can they read? It seems like a stupid thought but maybe he should ask anyway).

And then there’s Shigeo’s rollercoaster of a condition, with high-highs and low-lows, and then there’s a reason why the organization hasn’t tried attacking them here, why they haven’t struck again. And Ritsu is a whole other story, someone who doesn’t have nearly as much control of his powers as Shigeo, someone who just took up the psychic mantle within this past week.

Arataka sinks his head deeper into his hands, elbows digging into the wood of his desk.

“God,” he thinks aloud, curling his fingers into his locks, “what am I doing?”

There’s a lot to sift through. He wishes he’d stayed in the living room, because at least then he’d have things to distract himself with and not wind up lost in his own spiraling thoughts. He’s more than glad the kids are here. He’s so glad they found him, so glad he found them, so glad he can do what he can, so glad they’re safe (at least, for now), but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t overwhelming.

What is he supposed to do? What can he do that’s more than what he’s already doing?

“Mrrrrrpmh?”

Soft trots into the room and hops onto the corner of the desk before he can fully realize her presence. When he doesn’t respond right away, she rubs the side of her cheek against his knuckles, and he can’t help but crack a smile and scratch behind her ears gently.

“What’s up, huh?” he murmurs, leaning his cheek against his opposite hand. “Do you need something?”

She doesn’t answer (not that he’d been exactly expecting her to), and instead flops right on top of the papers on his desk without any care to the world. He exhales sharply through his nose with a smile that doesn’t fade and shakes his head.

“Alright, alright, you win. I’ll go to bed.”

#through hardships to the stars #thtts #cloud writes #mob psycho 100 #mp100 #fanfic #reigen arataka #kageyama ritsu #kageyama shigeo #dad reigen #i freaking love them so much #hnnnnnnnnnnNNNN #theyre so GOOD

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dilettantereviews · 6 years

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Here is my delayed but finalized 2018 EP list!

Princess Nokia- For this EP, Princess Nokia switched to an emo rap style popular on Soundcloud. I thought I wouldn’t like or even understand this EP because I don’t listen to Soundcloud rap, I didn’t really have Fueled by Ramen fever in middle school, and I never liked nu metal (which Princess Nokia says this EP is inspired by but I don’t personally hear it). I listened to the songs ironically until they began to grow on me. Those warbly vocals. The repeated Smash my heart to pieces line. How For the Night sounds like Frere Jacques instrumentally. And now I can proudly say it holds my top spot in my 2018 EP list. I’d like to say something about “in a world where we’re always told to look like we’re unbothered and #winning and other people are always pressed, Princess Nokia tells us it’s okay to feel normal human emotions” but that’s not close. 2018 was the year of Princess Nokia for me, so it’s only natural her new EP would be my favorite. I’m not sure if it’s supposed to be with a wink and a nudge but let’s ask all the other Soundcloud rappers first.

Kilo Kish- While Kilo Kish’s sound is the epitome of chill, her lyrics are bizarrely accurate portraits of millennial anxiety and contemplations. This time, she changes her ambient spoken word poems for outsider electronic music that is neither PC music nor generic tropical house. In one interview, she said that her biggest regret was that she didn’t go as experimental as she could’ve on this project, so here’s to wondering what the multi hyphenate will do for her next project.

Ojerimie- I feel like 2018 is the year that alt r&B became oversaturated. Personally, I think as long as there will be sad and lonely late night texters, there will be an audience for musicians who can’t always sing, use electronic production, and claim to be influenced by Sade. Artists like The Weeknd and Beyonce who used to receive more commercial attention (or at least better first week numbers) were unable to meet previously set high expectations; Drake, who set the tone for alt r&b in 2011, turned out to be a secret father, cementing his status as f***boi supreme with several years of worst behavior including streaming schemes, Spotify takeovers, cultural appropriation, mental health misstatements, age gaps, and celebrating human traffickers, showing us that sensitive isn’t always good. Genre gentrifiers like Disclosure, The 1975, Justin Timberlake, Years and Years, and Ryan Hemsworth left to do other sounds; critical darlings like Blood Orange and The Internet have less hype for their albums this time around, newcomer Jorja Smith was completely clowned upon by Twitter for her vocals, and artists like Zayn, Tinashe, and Indiana all had albums all pushed back and compromised (all on Sony), so hearing a newcomer have late night red wine R&B music is a great pleasure. Highlights include drum and bass 2003, 80’s sophisti pop sounding Heat, and camming theme song 4U. Do yourself a favor and check out her great back catalogue as well.

Ravyn Lenae- I listened to Ravyn’s EP back in February, but what made me really remember her now was her performance on the now cancelled Rundown with Robin Thede on BET. Not only was it a good place for politics, but also a good venue for smaller artists. SNL is only decent for white hipster bands so it’s nice for black artists who aren’t that huge yet to have places to perform on television. Ravyn is from the Chicago scene and has put out 2 projects before this. EP highlights include the chill Night Song, the uplifting Sticky, and her stellar collaborations with Steve Lacy. With catchy hooks, sweet vocals, and a short track list that leaves you craving for more, Ravyn Lenae is the real Sweetener of 2018.

Hatchie- I once read that shoegaze and noise pop are popular because the whirring and noises from the guitars make it sound like people are talking, which makes people feel less lonely. I can’t say whether or not that’s true as a fact, but I can admit that Hatchie does make me feel happy. The shoegazer from the South has toured with Kylie Minogue and worked with Robin Guthrie already. Her songs have a joyful warmth to them and remind me of 90’s artists like The Cranberries, Drop Nineteens, and Madder Rose. Don’t incubate- hatch today.

Disclosure- I once read about the 2nd album UK artist curse, where an artist who had a specific UK niche tries to go too general for their sophomore album and end up losing everyone, with Katy B and Duffy being some examples of it. I still loved Caracal by Disclosure, but other people thought it was just a straightforward pop album rather than a forward thinking electronic album. Then another bad EP in 2016 made me lose interest in them until their new EP this year. It’s more sample heavy and very retro inspired but I think anyone would like it, but in a good way and not like Maroon 5.

Kitten- 2 years after their most recent EP, Kitten is back with their first fan funded project. Truth be told, I don’t really see why their had to be an independent label, because it stays in the same 80’s goth synthpop atmosphere as their previous songs. That doesn’t mean it’s derivative, but I’d like to know what happened at the label. Tracks include the Halloweenish Pink Champagne, the Robert Smith sounding I Did It!, and the vulnerable Abigail.

Kaytranada- More straightforward R&B/synth than his albums and remixes but good stuff to chill to.

Childlike Sound- I’ll be honest and say that I don’t know too much about them. I always saw @emoblackthot promote them on Twitter which encouraged me to try them out. Although they’re self produced, they go above and far beyond most bedroom pop acts. Some of their songs sound nu disco while others would fit right in on Solange’s True. Remember, why act grown when you can be Childlike?

St Beauty- A duo of singer songwriters on Janelle Monae’s label, St Beauty released a promising debut EP this year. Maybe this is because I had no expectations, but I preferred this to Dirty Computer because they were more concise and didn’t try too hard with the concept. I enjoyed Stone Mountain, a niece to Cranes in the Sky by Solange. Tides is a nice pseudo trip hop song (well, at least it sounds more trip hop than whatever the hell Morcheeba and Hooverphonic have been putting out for a decade), and Colors is a nice summery dancehall song.

Channel Tres- He joins Princess Nokia’s Versace Hottie as the only non Azealia Banks or Drag Race contestant hip house song that came out after the year 2000 and is actually good. Minimal camp value though, if that’s what you’re looking for.

Shygirl- Bombastic club music perfect for a night out or the last night on earth. A cross between Jlin and Charli XCX, has enough bite in it to keep you going the whole night. Bring your steel toe boots.

Yuno- How someone this catchy flew past me is a complete mystery, but I’m glad I know about him now. If you liked when Tame Impala remixed Miguel, you would enjoy this. It’s perfect enough to soundtrack your summer to, or at least a soundtrack for cruise line commercials and martinis in a can. Some slight unconventional moments like pitched vocals.

The Marias- Lofi, chill, jazzy, summer, outdoorsy music. I’m still waiting for an a ha moment song but for now, I’m enjoying the nice psychedelic vibes that they give me.

Alina Baraz- I was almost finished with this list, but I thought 14 was an ugly number and some Russian collusion lead me to putting Alina Baraz on my EP list! I didn’t listen to this too much yet, but I can always appreciate minimal electronic music with pleasant vocals and decent features, especially now that Sabrina Fraudio has been exposed.

#best of 2018 #princess nokia #kilo kish #ojerime #ravyn lenae #hatchie #disclosure #kitten #kaytranada #childlike sound #st beauty #channel tres #shygirl #yuno #the marias #alina baraz

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har0ld · 5 years

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Hit Men

Hit Men by Fredric Dannen is a wonderful and sobering read on the music industry from WWII to 1991.

It left me looking up at the sky. There are some nuggets about race relationships. Music is all about that, after all. After WWII, Black American music takes over the world: it’s selling like crazy in the country and it’s influencing absolutely everyone (wealthy white UK folks would import those black records –blues, R&B- and create bands like the Beatles, if you didn’t know).

“The separate designation of pop and R&B bears explaining. Pop in the record industry is an euphemism for white; R&B means black. Until 1949, Billboard listed music by black artists as “race” records, but then a staffer named Jerry Wexler coined the term rhythm and blues. This is about all that has changed (though the industry has found other euphemisms, including “soul” and “urban”). A rock record by a black act is automatically R&B –regardless of its sound–unless white radio plays it and white people buy it, at which point it is said to “cross over” to the pop charts. Since white record buyers outnumber blacks by a large margin, a crossover hit means a bigger payoff.”

The built-in discrimination! Wonderful. Because meanwhile in white culture R&B is considered the worst shit when at first, it was pinned just to stop using the term “race” records because that’s a bit offensive and not very marketable.

R&B was simply a marketing term and became the symbol of “bad” black music, for no reason at all. It is messed up.

Then there are the stories of artists getting screwed over:

“The seventies provided some classic horror stories from this scenario. When Teena Marie was signed to Motown in 1976 by founder Berry Gordy, she had no attorney at all. When she asked to take her contract home before signing it, she later testified, a Motown official admonished her: “Don’t you trust us?” Motown assigned as her manager the common-law wife of Berry Gordy’s brother. Result: two of her albums made an estimated $2 million for Motown, while the label paid her about $100 a week for six and a half years.”

Ruthless. George McCrae was owed $100K in royalties by the label and was ready to hurt the boss. The boss gave him a few thousand dollars cash and the keys to the Cadillac outside. The car was rented.

The entire industry has been based on screwing over people. Whatever it takes (many executives were war vets, basically soulless mfs). Payola is rampant and the labels basically control the top 40 radios by the mid 70s. And then, a very important thing happens: disco.

“The Network [people bribing radios] took root in 1978, the peak year of disco. It was no coincidence. Disco created the climate that made the Network possible. The dance music breathed new life into the Top 40 format, after a decade of strength in album-oriented radio. More important, the disco phenomenon was fueled by hype, by the mistaken belief that hits are bought, not born. Of course, you can buy a hit, but not profitably. It was going to take the record industry a long time to figure this out.”

Hype. This is all there is in music from then on. It’s all about artists that can create hype. Hype is dangerous: yes, when it works bam, 30 million copies of Saturday Night Fever sold. But that’s impossible to reproduce the next year and the year after. It’s unpredictable. And then video games happened:

“In 1980 the Atari unit grossed $513 million, almost twice as much as the year before, while sales for the records group increased to $806 million. And the Atari’s unit hadn’t even existed five years previous. Overnight success breeds shortsightedness, and Warner Communications began to believe that video games were a better business than records.”

They reverted back real quick after 1983 and the video game crash. Hype is dangerous.

Oh did I mention the strong links between the music industry and the mafia? Man there are some details in this book and now I understand that it’s not so weird that they found some narcotics ring going on at a famous music label back in 2011. In the book no one was ever convicted. The government tried, with the help of the FBI, but it never went anywhere. The music industry is very powerful.

So, if you think there’s actual demand for an artist, there’s none. It’s all marketing money. Is the artist bankable? Then yes, you’ll see that artist a lot.

If you think charts are a pretty accurate picture of the market, they are not. They are completely fabricated to fuel hype and advance marketing plots. And if they were that much gamed in the mid 70s, I can’t even imagine the mental gymnastics they’re doing to produce today’s charts. It’s all bogus.

If you think only good artists survive, well, it depends.

Sometimes it feels like the entire entertainment business only exists to funnel money for some future real estate firms which will steamroll the earth.

Music is dope though.

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#h. Play

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toxoiddiamond · 2 years

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T H E B A S I C S Given Name: River Conall Ervine Nicknames: None, and he wouldn't answer to any nicknames anyway. Age: 35 Birthday: September 1st Zodiac Sign: Virgo Birthplace: Springfield, Massachusetts Current Location: Boston, Massachusetts Speaks: English, and he’s pretty decent at Spanish. Dominant Hand: Right Education: He barely managed to graduate from West Springfield High School. He did not go on to college, because he hated school, felt it was a waste of his time, and was sure he would never be able to graduate anyway. That being said, he isn’t stupid by any means, he just doesn’t do well in a typical academic setting. Occupation: Currently working at The Tacky Steed Pub, the only place that would actually hire him with his background. He is clueless when it comes to cooking, but he does prep work, dishwashing, bartending, lifts/carries anything heavy and puts away deliveries, and works the register as needed. Vehicle: When he got out of prison and briefly stayed with his sister-in-law Beatrice, she helped him buy a red 2012 Honda Civic, and he is working on paying her back (mostly in the form of watching her daughter/his niece Elissa, which he is more than happy to do). Worldly Possessions: He doesn't have much of anything. Even before prison, he wasn't much of a "things" person. The only sentimental item he has is an electric guitar that belonged to his younger brother. River has been told that the guitar is worth a lot of money, but he would never be able to bring himself to sell it. Pet(s): A wire fox terrier named Bandit. He previously had a collie named Lady, but when he went to prison, Beatrice took Lady in, and he didn't have the heart to ask for Lady back after seeing how happy she is in her new home.

A P P E A R A N C E Height: 6’5” Hair: Somewhere between auburn and brown, always cropped very short because he doesn’t have the patience to deal with having to actually style his hair. Facial Hair: He doesn’t like to grow a beard for the same reason he doesn’t like to grow his hair out, but he does keep a bit of stubble at all times. Eye Colour: Dark blue Skin Tone: Not terribly pale, but not exactly tan either. He does like to go outdoors and get a bit of sun now and then. Clothing: River doesn’t have much of a sense of style– he usually just wears jeans and plain t-shirts no matter the situation. Not that he doesn’t look good in them, because of course he does, but he’s not exactly a stylish person. Distinguishing Marks: A few scars here and there, mostly from being a reckless child/teenager, though he does have one particularly rough-looking scar on his left shoulder from the only prison fight he was ever involved in (no one else was ever stupid enough to try and fight him again). Face Claim: Tom Hopper

H E A L T H Physical Health: River is generally a healthy person. He exercises regularly, eats healthy (he's the type of person who mostly views food as fuel, though he does occasionally eat things just for enjoyment), and has a strong immune system so he has never been seriously ill. He loves going on long walks and hikes with Bandit, and he goes to the gym a couple of times a week to get some lifting in. Physical Abilities/Limitations: He can lift heavy things with ease for the most part, which means that anytime something heavy needs to be picked up/moved at the restaurant, River is usually the one to do it. He used to go on runs every morning, but the impact always made his knees hurt, so he doesn't do that anymore. Addictions: Before he went to prison, he did have a problem with alcohol, but no one ever noticed because he managed to seem very normal even when he was drunk. He hasn't touched alcohol since he got out, but he has been very tempted at times. Allergies: A bit of hay fever, but nothing that some Claritin won't fix. Mental Health: Unsurprisingly, it's not very good. River has struggled with depression since he was a teenager, but again, no one ever really noticed because he did his best to act like he was fine. He has also always been a very shy person, like absolutely terrified of having to talk to anyone he doesn't know well, though now he tends to put up a front of being unapproachable and unfriendly so that people leave him alone for the most part.

H I S T O R Y Summary: River was born and raised in Springfield, Massachusetts, to parents who lived far below the poverty line. His brother, Bram, was born five years later. They both had a pretty rough start in life– oftentimes their only meals were school breakfast/lunch, and they would go to bed hungry. By the time River was ten, he’d become pretty adept at stealing food from the school cafeteria, or from convenience/grocery stores, so he could feed both himself and Bram. Shortly after River’s eleventh birthday, their parents announced that they would be getting a divorce, which came as no surprise since they were constantly screaming at each other. Although neither River or Bram got along with either of their parents very well, they ultimately wanted to live with their father; he was very distant with them and borderline negligent, but their mother had a tendency to hit them when she got angry, so the choice was pretty obvious. Because of their father’s distance and lack of care for them, River made it his mission to care for Bram and essentially took on the role of surrogate father to him. They were very close, and remained close throughout the years. River left home at eighteen, and unofficially took Bram with him– he wasn’t Bram’s legal guardian, but their father really didn’t give a shit where Bram stayed, so he stayed with River until he came of age. River moved to Boston shortly after Bram struck out on his own, and took a job as a bartender/bouncer at a club. Several years passed without any notable changes in River’s life, except that Bram got married to Beatrice and ended up moving to Boston as well. River was generally content with his life, even if it was a little boring and uneventful. One night, while walking to a nearby bar with Bram, the two of them stepped into an alley to smoke a cigarette, but quickly realized they had accidentally stumbled upon someone being mugged at gunpoint. The mugger panicked and ended up accidentally shooting Bram in the chest. Unfortunately, the bullet struck his heart, and Bram was dead less than a minute later. River doesn’t fully remember what happened next– but according to two witnesses (the person who was being mugged, and someone watching from an apartment window above them), River basically lost it and got into a struggle with the mugger to take the gun, then proceeded to fire all of the remaining bullets– twelve bullets in total– at the mugger, killing him. River just remembers trying to save Bram, watching him die, and the next thing he knew, he was holding the gun and pulling the trigger for the final time. River actually ended up being the one to call the police himself, and essentially turned himself in. The two witnesses gave statements which backed up River’s version of events, and River had every intention of pleading guilty to Voluntary Manslaughter, so he ended up getting a very light sentence of five years. Beatrice ended up being his main supporter, showing up to every court hearing, visiting him whenever she was allowed, and even acting as a character witness for him. She was obviously devastated over not just losing her husband in such a horrific manner, but also having River end up in prison. As if that wasn’t enough, a few weeks after Bram’s death, she discovered that she was twelve weeks pregnant. Prison ended up not being too horrible for River– he mostly kept to himself and tried to keep his mind on eventually getting out, getting his life back on track. His only regret was that he wasn’t able to be there to help Bea with the baby and everything, though she did visit often and assured him that everything was going just fine. It was during this time that River ended up being bunkmates with Charlie, and though River would never admit it, he felt an instant attraction to Charlie, as close to love at first sight as you can get. River got out of prison after only four years, since he was released early for good behavior. He moved in with Beatrice for a couple of months while he got his bearings and tried to find a job– the job hunt was pretty rough since no one wanted to hire him after finding out he was an ex-convict. But he ended up finding a local pub, The Tacky Steed, that made a point of hiring felons and ex-cons, and he has been working there ever since. Now that Charlie is out of prison as well, they have become roommates and coworkers, which River enjoys, but it’s also a little like torture for him to have Charlie around all the time and trying to keep his feelings contained. Job History: His first job was as a pizza delivery driver– he only lasted a few months in that job because it was so miserable. He then worked as a bellhop at a hotel, and then had a job in a warehouse for several years. His last job before going to prison was as a bartender/bouncer, and now he works at The Tacky Steed. Fondest Memories: A lot of random memories with Bram. He also has more recent fond memories of Elissa, even though some of it is bittersweet since he was in prison and missed a lot of her early years. Worst Experiences: His younger brother being murdered essentially for being in the wrong place at the wrong time– River will never forgive himself for not protecting him. He still has nightmares about it all the time. And although being in prison wasn’t the nightmare he thought it would be, he does hate the fact that he wasn’t able to be there for Bea and Lissey.

C O M M U N I C A T I O N Speech Pace/Style: River prefers not to say anything at all unless he absolutely has to. He's definitely the strong, silent type. When he does speak, he talks at a slightly slower cadence than most (because speaking more slowly helps him not to stumble over his words). However, if he's nervous for some reason (for instance, if he was talking to someone he finds attractive *coughcharliecough*), he may speak more quickly and start stuttering or trailing off and losing his train of thought. Accent: Typical American accent, nothing noteworthy. Favorite Phrases or Words: "Oh my god," always under his breath whenever someone is getting on his last nerve. Usual Curse Words: While River doesn't speak much, when he does say something, it's usually some variation of "fuck." Fuck you, or what the fuck, or fucking christ, anything along those lines.

P E R S O N A L I T Y, M I N D S E T, A N D B E L I E F S Personality Type: INTJ-T Sense of Humor: He's not one to joke around much, but when he does, it's usually in the vein of sarcasm. It's also pretty difficult to make him laugh– the antics of people at work have made him laugh before, but it's usually just a quick smile, a light chuckle, and that's it. Habits: River loves listening to music, so anytime he can be listening to music, he definitely is. He takes earbuds with him everywhere he goes, and anytime he gets assigned a mindless repetitive task at work, he pops them in and listens to whatever his current obsession is. Every time he’s about to start a task, he claps his hands once before getting started. It helps get him “in the zone,” according to him. He doesn’t mean to, but he does have a tendency to “manspread” when he sits down, just because of how long his legs are. If someone calls him out on it, or if he needs to make room for someone to sit next to him, he will pull his legs in and sit more normally. Quirks: In spite of River's inherent shyness, he has a very intense gaze and makes it a point to look people in the eyes when they talk to him. Fears/Phobias: Anything happening to the (very, very few) people he cares about. Meeting new people (you can bet that he spent the day before he started work at the restaurant internally screaming at the prospect of having to interact with so many strangers). Strengths: River is a very loyal and protective person. Anyone who manages to get close to him will have him as a friend forever, and he would do absolutely anything to protect the people he cares about (which, at this point, are pretty much just Bea, Lissey, and Charlie). Although he projects an air of being grumpy and unfriendly, River can be a very thoughtful person at times. If he knows someone who is going through a rough time, he will find a way to do something nice for them, usually in secret so they don’t know it was him. In most cases, River is a very shy person and avoids speaking to anyone unless it’s absolutely necessary. But when it comes to rude customers, all River’s shyness goes out the window– he has no problem whatsoever confronting anyone who is rude to him or his coworkers. He doesn’t yell or get heated, but he does take on a very firm tone, and, as a bonus, if it gets to the point where he threatens to throw someone out, that usually prompts the person to either apologize or just leave, because it’s obvious that River could quite literally throw them out. As a result, whenever there’s a particularly rude customer, River is usually called over to deal with them. River has a work ethic like no other– when he gets “in the zone,” he can be incredibly productive, both at work and when it comes to housework. His coworkers have referred to him as “the machine” in the past just because of how much he can get done in a short amount of time. Flaws: He literally never talks to anyone about how he’s doing or how he’s feeling, and it is sort of killing him. Everything just ends up internalized and pushed to the back of his mind. As a kid, River learned that he had to be stoic, that he had to keep from showing any sort of emotion, bad or good, because he would just get punished or belittled if he did, and unfortunately he carried that mindset into his adulthood. Bea has tried to convince him to go to therapy, but River would rather die than do that. River believes that the only value he has as a person lies in how productive he is. He doesn’t allow himself much time at all to just relax or enjoy life– he’s always working and takes any extra shifts/overtime that are offered to him, no matter how tired he is, and when he’s not working he’s always doing chores or running errands. Hopes/Desires: Most of his hopes and desires are for other people. He hopes Bea falls in love again and gets remarried. He hopes that Lissey grows up happy and healthy and that she is able to do anything she may want to do. The only selfish hope he has, which he never really allows himself to entertain, is that maybe someday Charlie will see him as more than just a roommate or friend. Self-Esteem: Unfortunately, it’s not very good. River kind of sees himself as useless, and feels like he’s just taking up space in people’s lives. He really, really wishes it had been him that was shot and killed instead of Bram– he has a textbook case of survivor’s guilt. If it weren’t for Bea and Lissey, River probably would have tried to kill himself a long time ago. But since he has them to think of, especially Lissey, River would never do that. Religion: He did believe in god as a kid. Now he’s not so sure– but if god does exist, then River has a bone to pick with him.

R A N D O M Sleeping Position: On his back, with his limbs spread out kind of like a starfish. Boxers or Briefs?: He finds briefs to be much more comfortable. Day or Night?: He doesn’t really care. Top or Bottom?: Top, for sure. He’s never tried switching before, but he would give it a try if his partner really wanted to. Partying or Relaxing?: River would rather die than go to a party. The few times he did go to a party, he just stood off to the side, didn’t speak to anyone, then went home as soon as he could and had a panic attack.

R E L A T I O N S H I P S Closest Friend: He is very close with his sister-in-law, Beatrice (Bea). She came to visit him often while he was in prison, and would bring Elissa with her as well. River has always felt very comfortable with her, and she adores River (honestly, for a while she did have some misplaced "feelings" for River, but she never told him that since she knew River was gay anyway, and now she views him only as a brother). She has River pick Elissa up from school and watch her for a few hours once or twice a week, and she often stops by with food/groceries for him (and for Charlie of course) because she wants to make sure he's taking care of himself. He also does consider Charlie to be a good friend, even if they haven't exactly opened up to each other. He trusts Charlie and will always have his back if it comes down to it (plus there's the fact that River is not-so-secretly enamored with Charlie~). Relationship History: He was in a couple of relationships when he was younger– the first was a short-lived high school fling. The second was in his early twenties, and lasted around six months, but River broke things off because it just never felt right. Sexual Partners: Four in total. His first boyfriend in high school, a one night stand when he was nineteen, his second boyfriend, and then a purely physical relationship with a fellow inmate (which was also short-lived). Thoughts About Sex: River enjoys sex, but he doesn't think it's as big a deal as people make it out to be. Though to be fair, he's never felt really connected to anyone he's had sex with so it's always been kind of unsatisfying to him, and he is probably demisexual, so there's that.

P A R E N T S Name(s): Martina and Clyde Ervine Age(s): 61 and 63 Social Standing: Not great. River’s mother was widely known to be a lush and there were a lot of rumors about her hitting her children– though of course no one bothered to actually do anything about it. His father was not a nice person at all, and he had a lot of enemies. Occupation(s): His mother worked at a convenience store, and his father was a delivery driver, who later Religion: They considered themselves Catholic, but they never went to church or anything. Quality of Relationship With Their Children: Um, bad. Really bad. Neither of them showed up for Bram’s funeral, neither of them visited River or even called or wrote to him in jail. The last time River saw them was at Bram and Bea’s wedding, and River ended up having to ask them to leave because they were fighting with each other and causing a scene. Living/Deceased: At this point, River has no idea if either of them are alive or dead, and he really doesn’t give a fuck.

S I B L I N G (S) Name(s): Bram Ervine Age(s): He passed away at the age of 22. Social Standing: It was very good– he was the type of person who could make friends with just about anyone, so he was very well-liked. Occupation(s): He worked in a local concert venue as a sound engineer, and also played guitar in a band– he always said that River was his biggest influence, because growing up, he always wanted to listen to whatever River was listening to, and that music was the greatest influence on his musical taste. Religion: He was sort of iffy about it and basically considered himself agnostic. Quality of Relationship with Character: They had a great relationship. They were very close, and Bram had a lot of respect for River– honestly, Bram wanted to be just like him. Living/Deceased: Sadly, he is dead.

D A I L Y L I F E Living Arrangements: He currently rents a two bedroom apartment, with the second bedroom occupied by Charlie. It’s a fairly nice place– nothing fancy, but decent enough, close to work, the neighbors are all pretty quiet, the rent is reasonable, so River is certainly in no hurry to leave anytime soon.

#character: river ervine #ship: chari #character sheet

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recommendedlisten · 4 years

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It’s been a couple months since the first volume of Listen to These., Recommended Listen’s relatively new album catch-up series, but let’s just preface it by saying this: Volume II isn’t even the half of it of new music that’s worth your listen if you haven’t already made space in your life for them. There’s more words to come hopefully sooner rather than later on that. As always, if you’ve missed any of the most recent full album reviews, catch up with those over here.

Armand Hammer - Shrines [Self-released]

Underground NYC hip-hop vets Armand Hammer -- the duo of billy wood and Elucid -- are back to worship at the alter of our new age dystopia with their fourth album Shrines. The listen is a style clash fete of trippy beats and lush, wavering loops that have the power to distort our view, in a sunken spiritual journey but never ceases to see the reality of our broken culture, societal ills, and false gods within our political systems as they truly are. On this outing, they’re also joined by the likes of Earl Sweatshirt, Moor Mother, R.A.P. Ferreira, and Quell Chris who pop in like true supporting cast members for what is otherwise an ensemble display of art rap with a timely statement of purpose.

Shrines by Armand Hammer

Deerhoof - Future Teenage Cave Artists [Joyful Noise Recordings]

Deerhoof have been at it for over 25 years at this point, and yet, album after album from the revered experimental rock outfit revels in the present moment and their own inimitable ability to mirror the events of the outside world through their projection of sound. With their fifteenth studio effort Future Teenage Cave Artists, the band have created a listen filled with sardonic joy fit for the end of everything that is worth anything in this world: culture, society, and the very Earth we walk. Satomi Matsuzaki’s vocals dance on the ashes of our decaying lifestyle as the music behind her ushers in the apocalypse. Like the Titanic band playing as the ship goes down, Deerhoof persist in creating so that when everthing goes black, at least they can say that their joy as an act of resistance put up a good fight.

Future Teenage Cave Artists by Deerhoof

Dougie Poole - The Freelancer’s Blues [Wharf Cat Records]

The Freelancer’s Blues resolves the question of what would happen if country music was centered in the backdrop of Brooklyn’s DIY scene, as Dougie Poole’s breakout sophomore effort fuses traditionalist songwriting with the stardust of experimental pop influences. Between his cosmic country aesthetic are stories that are also timely in their arrival as well, as Poole’s cowboy croon centers on a post-millennial malaise with life in being stuck in place by way of the cost of living’s bottom dollar, capitalism’s drain on the soul, or hard work getting swept under the rug. Poole’s dry humor on the matter makes these melancholic country songs go down easy like comfort food -- even if it doesn’t quite taste like your usual southern cooking.

The Freelancer's Blues by Dougie Poole

DRAIN - California Cursed [Revolution Records]

Santa Cruz thrashers DRAIN have been seething to make their official first move in the hardcore scene since amassing a cult following within its DIY circles and becoming fest highlights over the last few years. Their debut full-length for venerable hardcore label Revolution Records does no hold back on that feeding frenzy. Rattling influence of NYC hardcore as well as a high voltage metallic intensity, California Cursed is a filthy homage to their home state that chomps with disgust and reckoning for its polluted air and water. Frontperson Sam Ciaramitaro’s sneering performance ups the confrontation with a tidal wave of chaos backs up his audacity. Washed ashore at its end, you won’t know what hit you.

California Cursed by DRAIN

KeiyaA - Forever, Ya Girl [Self-released]

Much of hip-hop and R&B lately has benefited from creatives thinking outside the mainstream trajectory, and one of the latest promising signs comes from NYC-by-way-of-Chicago singer, producer and multi-instrumental triple threat KeiyaA on her debut album Forever, Ya Girl. The 15-track listen pieces together broken relationships and self-empowerment through a kaleidoscope of sound fusion blurring the colors of modern beatmaking (occasionally assisted by fellow underground rapper MIKE’s DJ Blackpower alter ego) into psychedelic transformations, funk deconstructed, and samples of TV commercials. It plays out like a scrapbook of all the voices you heard running your head yesterday and working hard to hear yours alone to come a far way, Through it, KeiyaA keeps her identity to herself in both style and knowing thyself.

Forever, Ya Girl by KeiyaA

No Age - Goons Be Gone [Drag City]

Goons Be Gone is the fifth proper full-length effort (sixth if you count 2007′s early singles comp Weirdo Rippers) from Los Angeles DIY noise pop scene heroes No Age, and it shows no signs of fatigue from the duo in shape-shifting their aesthetic. Like much of the sounds created by guitarist Randy Randall and drummer Dean Spunt, Goons Be Gone feels like a disorienting fever dream caught somewhere between a memory and the blinkering effects of our modern day calamity. In this instance, the differences are granular -- be it the amount of space left between tape loops or how much fuel they push behind each pedal -- and yet, it continues to make all the difference in No Age’s sonic spin in modern punk art.

Goons Be Gone by No Age

OHMME - Fantasize Your Ghost [Joyful Noise Recodings]

The sophomore effort from buzzworthy Chicago art rock duo OHMME is about finding your way home when you’ve so spent so many of your days living away from it. Fantasize Your Ghost certainly contains an endless appreciation for unpredictable detours and roads less traveled along the way, and that guitarists Sima Cunningham and Macie Stewart are comfortable mapping their own route that oft falls off the grid is what makes the album a thrill ride. Throughout, the pair’s vocals consume an aerodynamic free will as well as constant control, and the energy they create from their collective creativity presents possibility in several forms. Gliding pop can just as easily bend into rock ornations, leaving the idea of home to be wherever it is you can make the space your own.

Fantasize Your Ghost by OHMME

Sparta - Trust the River [Dine Alone Records]

It’s been 14 years since Sparta -- the post-At the Drive-In hardcore vehicle of primary songwriter Jim Ward -- to reemerge. Between the band’s 2006 effort Threes and their return in Trust the River, Ward has ventured off the beaten path with his songwriting by delving into folk and indie rock with his other projects under his own name and the band Sleepercar, respectively, and some of those homegrown hints have seeped into Sparta’s atmosphere on what is a fitting return to ground-level after gravitating far above the horizon for so long in the band’s early catalog. Trust the River communicates with these times’ politics as well as the complexities of our own personal relationships in that way where Sparta’s roughened melancholia can feel like a faded picture. This time, it’s easier to see the faces from down here on Earth.

Trust The River by Sparta

Truth Cult - Off Fire [Pop Wig Records]

Truth Cult is breaking out of the Baltimore hardcore scene with their debut full-length Off Fire, released fittingly on local scene label Pop Wig Records (the label ran by members of Turnstile and Angel Du$t.) Its membership is familiar with spaces that form pits, as it collects members of Give, Pure Disgust, and Red Death, and their sound touches on the gruff post-hardcore rumblings of its surrounding environment. For context, they’ve opened for Lifetime, and have a very Dan Yemin-like energy to their sound that deadlifts a weight similar to what Paint It Black and Open City are throwing down. Off Fire is similarly politicized and swings hard, but that takes nothing away from the melodic gravity of the LP in a way that hears Truth Cult’s sound living up to the elements of its title.

Off Fire by Truth Cult

Westside Gunn - Pray for Paris [Griselda Records]

The Griselda Records collective continues its ascent with the diamond in founding member Westside Gunn’s crown on this moment, his building coronation ceremony Pray for Paris. Featuring his Griselda family members Conway the Machine and Benny the Butcher as well as production from Alchemist and Tyler, the Creator, Pray for Paris scales the fine line between an elaborate hip-hop opus and the the art house aesthetic burgeoning throughout rap’s current underground. In a sense, this is also the best album about pro-wrestling ever made, as Westside Gunn loops in iconic promos to compliment his own flex. Truly, he’s on the path to becoming the showstopper.

#armand hammer #deerhoof #drain #dougie poole #no age #keiyaa #ohmme #sparta #truth cult #westside gunn #features #listen to these

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mondlers · 8 years

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our love’s all wrong

pairing: brittany/mike rating: t summary: so this drabble has been sitting in my drafts, half written, for about 30 years. anyways i have a lot of feelings about brittany/mike in glee’s first season and am occasionally overwhelmed by all the potential there. don’t worry, my brittana heart is put into this one too. this is for my very own brittany to my mike: @cvtgrant. you give me caterpillars, babe.

For a moment, Mike thinks that maybe it’s the tail end of his vitamin D rush that’s set his heartbeat into overdrive, but it doesn’t take long to figure out what’s really to blame. That pill made him feel like he’d just taken a shot of adrenaline to the chest, ready to take on anything and everything, but this is a different kind of high. He watches in amazement as the glee girls twist and twirl in front of him and the rest of the guys. Chocolate eyes aren’t focused on the yellow dresses or the whirling hair of his peers but rather the enchanting way in which Brittany Pierce moves to the beat of the song.

Even in their frenzied states, Brittany moves with precise, calculated movements that sets her apart from the other girls. Whether she’s throwing down to a driven R&B beat or gliding elegantly to a slow and burning ballad, she's the epitome of talent and grace no matter what the setting. Mike’s eyes stick to her like a magnet, not truly listening to what can and may be the mashup that defeats his team. All of his competitiveness went out the window when Brittany stepped into the choir room and started dancing.

While the other guys congratulate the girls on their epic performance, Mike has one priority. Wasting no time seeking out the blonde, he takes a step closer and catches Brittany’s sight. Bright, blue eyes light up with excitement and she flings herself into Mike’s waiting arms. Nearly lifting her off of her feet, he smiles impossibly large and she squeals happily in his tight embrace.

“How did it look, Mikey? Was I amazing or what?” Keeping a steady hold on his shoulders, Brittany pulls back to look at him fully, her pale complexion flushed with color from fatigue and excitement. He offers a small nod and tries not to get lost in how beautiful she looks, especially now as she beams with pride.

“You were incredible, B, like always” he assures her, giving her side a playful squeeze as he continues to hold her near. If she were any closer, she’d no doubt feel the heavy thump of his heart beating wildly in his chest. “Seriously amazing.”

She bounces happily before throwing her arms around him again, not letting go for several moments that feel like they aren’t long enough. Finally untangling themselves after everyone has started to separate and prepare for passing time, Brittany plants a chaste peck on Mike’s cheek before retreating and going to gather her things.

Obscure objects line the walls and door of Brittany’s locker, though that’s nothing new. Mike watches in mild amusement as the blonde sifts through her belongings, gathering her things before they leave for her house. Tucking her newest drawing of Lord Tubbington into a folder in her locker, Mike’s brown eyes pay more attention to other things; like the way her hair, so rarely left down anymore, tumbles past her shoulders and how different she looks out of her typical red and white cheerleading ensemble.

“I like seeing you out of your Cheerios uniform,” he tells her, a small smile following. Brittany turns to him, a flattered grin gracing her lips. A pink tongue darts out to wet dry lips and she turns her trim frame to face him completely, a hand reaching out and gently finding a place on his chest.

“Mikey...” she coos playfully. Dull nails drag lightly down the fabric of his shirt and stop just above his abdomen, resting there and fisting his shirt lazily. The sensation makes him fidget with anticipation, an anxious laugh escaping him.

“Well, I didn’t mean it like that,” he admits through soft laughter, eyes averting down towards her hand resting on him. “But you know, that way is true too.” A nervous knot forms in his stomach and it takes every fibre of Mike’s being not to just lean over and kiss her right then and there.

There’s always a weird sensation when he’s placed in this situation with Brittany. He isn’t sure what they are, if they are even anything at all. Brittany is notably promiscuous, and proudly so, which Mike has no qualms with. It just makes it that much harder to gauge where that sets him in her world.

Admittedly on the opposite side of the spectrum when it comes to the importance of sex and all that it entailed, Mike is always blatantly aware that the act doesn’t mean quite the same to Brittany as it does to him; at least not on an emotional level. He knew that when she took his virginity last summer and he knows it now. He’s okay with it too. He can’t ask her to feel something she doesn’t or change who she is, but that understanding doesn’t make the truth of the situation any easier to swallow. Being with her incites a frenzy of emotions in Mike that he knows Brittany doesn’t wholly share.

But she keeps coming back to him and for a while now, they’ve seemed fairly exclusive. Brittany is never one to be hush hush about her conquests and, to his knowledge, he’s been the only person she’s been with since the latest school year began. There’s a sense of comfort in that. It fuels his hopes that maybe he isn’t as replaceable as he feels sometimes.

Brittany seems to notice that Mike is becoming lost in his thoughts and offers a coaxing nudge on his stomach, flattening her palm and running it along his abdominal muscles. Meeting her gaze, soft lips tug into a seductive smirk that makes Mike weak in the knees.

“We should get going,” she speaks up, taking a step closer and using her free hand to brush back the hair from his forehead. She pays no mind to whether anyone is around or approaching and that act in itself makes Mike feel that much better. Piercing blue eyes hold his gaze and beckon him to follow her lead. “You’re making my stomach feel like it’s full of caterpillars.”

“Caterpillars?” Mike questions, eyebrows furrowing.

“Caterpillars,” Brittany repeats. “They’re like butterflies but, you know, not all fluttery yet.” Her nose scrunches upwards as she grins at Mike and he can’t stifle the laughter that bubbles up.

“I like that,” he says with a nod and a gentle smile. “So what turns them into butterflies?”

She answers him a gesture rather than words, her hand sliding slowly along his stomach and down the front of his jeans to give him an encouraging squeeze. He feels his breath hitch and immediately, his chest fills with anticipation. Wasting no time to wrap his hand around the one roaming through his dark hair, Mike guides her away from her locker with a sly, knowing smile.

“C’mon,” he instructs, closing her locker door gently. “Let’s get out of here.”

It’s their usual routine.

Mr. and Mrs. Pierce both work days, which leaves the home to their only child until 5:00pm when they return. This convenience is much to Mike’s pleasure since his house is no place to be bringing Brittany. Not only is there a serious lack of privacy but Mike shudders at the thought of his judgmental father meeting Brittany. Everything Mike loves about her is something his father would loathe. His mind flashes briefly with anger but it fades quickly as Brittany ardently tugs him down the familiar path to her bedroom.

When he enters her room, he’s greeted by a fevered kiss, the door closing loudly as Brittany shoves it shut behind them. With a firm grasp on the collar of his shirt, she removes it before Mike can do it himself. Toned arms slide from the fabric and he feels a sudden sense of urgency, aching to have her join him.

For the two of them, their romps have become an intricate dance of sorts, set to a rhythm they follow with grace and certainty. It’s nothing like his first time with her, which was more clumsy than he cares to admit. While he’s grown accustomed to the familiarity of their hookups, Mike’s positive he’ll never get over seeing Brittany like this: baring all of her beauty for him without a hesitation or worry.

These moments are a blessing and a curse, in a way. Being close to her, being with her, Mike feels wholeheartedly grateful that of all the people Brittany could choose, she chose him to share this with.

But that’s all this will ever be. And the weight of that reality is a bit heavy at times. The reality where he gives all of himself to a girl who’s heart belongs to another, even if they won’t admit it. It’s the reality that keeps his tongue held tight when the I love you’s threaten to slip through, because he knows he’ll never receive the gesture in return; not sincerely, at least.

Those words from Brittany are reserved for someone who Mike, no matter how hard he tries, can never replace.

His distractions lead his gaze to settle on the picture of Santana and Brittany on her end table, the girls beaming in their Cheerio uniforms, linked arm in arm. Noticing the loss of focus, Brittany’s hand finds a place on Mike’s cheek and nudges at his chin until his eyes are looking back at hers.

“You with me, Mikey?”

He swallows hard and allows himself to drink in every beautiful feature of her face. Soft smile cracking into something almost sad and stomach knotting impossibly tight, Mike places a lingering kiss on Brittany’s plump lips before answering.

“Always.”

#brittany pierce #mike chang #glee #mine*#drabbles

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rohinic123-blog · 4 years

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IBD (Ulcerative Colitis and Crohn's Disease) Treatment Market Set for Rapid Growth and Trend, by 2027

Transparency Market Research (TMR) has published a new report on the IBD (ulcerative colitis and Crohn’s disease) treatment market for the forecast period of 2019–2027. According to the report, the global IBD (ulcerative colitis and Crohn’s disease) treatment market was valued at ~US$ 15.5 Bn in 2018 and is projected to expand at a ~6% CAGR during the forecast period.

Global IBD (Ulcerative Colitis and Crohn’s Disease) Treatment Market: Overview

Inflammatory bowel disease is a group of medical conditions that causes chronic inflammation in the digestive tract. Inflammatory bowel disease is an umbrella term that comprises two principal disorders: ulcerative colitis and Crohn’s disease. Ulcerative colitis is a long-term medical indication that causes inflammation and sores in the inner lining of the colon and rectum. Crohn’s disease is part of inflammatory bowel disease that causes inflammation to any part of the gastrointestinal tract, right from mouth to small intestine and anus. The exact cause of inflammatory bowel disease is not known; however, autoimmune disorders, genetic factors, and lifestyle changes are thought to cause the symptoms of inflammatory bowel disease in an individual. The common symptoms of inflammatory bowel disease include diarrhea, abdominal pain & cramps, constipation, rectal bleeding, weight loss, and fever.

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Inflammatory bowel disease (IBD) affects men and women equally, and is more commonly observed in developed countries in the West than developing and underdeveloped countries. There is no permanent cure for this disease, and it requires lifetime treatment and management. However, the most preferred treatment option includes administration of medications such as aminosalicyclates, corticosteroids, biologic drugs, and integrin antagonists. In severe conditions, surgical treatments are also recommended.

Growth of the global IBD (ulcerative colitis and Crohn’s disease) treatment market can be attributed to rise in the prevalence of inflammatory bowel diseases across the world, development of novel drugs, novel pipeline drugs, and increase in access to the treatment of IBD. The availability and launch of biosimilar drugs for the treatment of IBD and rise in the adoption of biologic drugs are the other factors fueling the growth of the global IBD (ulcerative colitis and Crohn’s disease) treatment market. Rise in investments in building a robust pipeline for IBD and increase in lifestyle-related risk factors are likely to boost the growth of the global IBD treatment market.

North America dominated the global IBD (ulcerative colitis and Crohn’s disease) treatment market in 2018, and the trend is anticipated to continue during the forecast period. This can be ascribed to the presence of key players, increase in incidence of IBD, favorable reimbursement policies, and availability of novel drugs for IBD. However, the adverse side effects associated with IBD drugs and high cost of treatment are likely to restrain the global IBD treatment market during the forecast period.

New Product Development & Approvals to Drive Global Market

Inflammatory bowel diseases are characterized by chronic inflammation in the gastrointestinal tract, and primarily include Crohn’s disease and ulcerative colitis disease. The exact cause of inflammatory bowel disease is not known, and the high prevalence of these diseases has been witnessed in developed countries. Several medications such as corticosteroids, aminosalicylates, integrin antagonists, biologic drugs such as Tumor Necrosis Factor (TNF) inhibitors, and up to a certain extent, antibiotic drugs, are prescribed to provide relief from the symptoms of these diseases.

The high prevalence and increase in incidence of Crohn’s disease and ulcerative colitis disease in developed countries has led to the development of novel therapeutics drugs. Biopharmaceutical companies have made significant investments in R&D, and numerous pipeline products are in various stages of clinical approvals, and likely to be commercialized during the forecast period. AstraZeneca and Allergan are together developing the MEDI2070 interleukin-23 monoclonal antibody against ulcerative colitis and Crohn’s disease.

MEDI2070 is currently in phase IIb of clinical trial for moderate to severe Crohn’s disease, and in phase II for ulcerative colitis. Pfizer's PF-00547659 and Celgene’s Ozanimod are in phase II and phase III clinical trials, for Crohn’s Disease and ulcerative colitis, respectively. Additionally, the recent launch and approval of new drugs in North America, Europe, and Japan are projected to fuel the demand for IBD treatment drugs in the near future.

Increase in Lifestyle-related Risk Factors to Drive Market

The exact cause of inflammatory bowel disease is not known; however, researchers consider the combination of several factors such as autoimmune diseases, genetic factors, unhealthy lifestyles, smoking, and environment that lead to the development of symptoms of inflammatory bowel disease. High dosage and regular administration of antibiotics to treat various chronic as well as infectious diseases pose the risk of developing inflammatory bowel disease. Moreover, dosage of non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs such as aspirin and ibuprofen increases the risk of developing IBD. No specific food is found to be responsible for IBD; however, for some people, high consumption of specific types of foods, such as junk food, has resulted in the development of IBD. Other factors such as autoimmune diseases, sedentary lifestyle, lack of exercise, and high stress levels could cause IBD symptoms.

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Integrin Antagonists Drug Class to Lead Global Market

In terms of drug class, the global market has been classified into TNF inhibitors, aminosalicyclates, integrin antagonists, and corticosteroids. TNF inhibitors comprise biologics and biosimilar drugs that are used as second-line treatment when patients fail to respond to other pharmaceutical drugs. The TNF inhibitors segment is projected to account for a major share of the global IBD (ulcerative colitis and Crohn’s disease) treatment market. TNF inhibitors are monoclonal antibodies developed from human and animal tissues, and are used to stop inflammation in the bowels. The segment accounted for the largest market share in 2018 and is anticipated to gain market share by the end of 2027. The most commonly and frequently used TNF inhibitors include adalimumab, vedolizumab, and infliximab. The integrin antagonists segment is expected to expand at the highest CAGR of ~10% during the forecast period.

Ulcerative Colitis Disease Indication Most Prevalent

In terms of disease indication, the global IBD (ulcerative colitis and Crohn’s disease) treatment market has been segmented into ulcerative colitis and Crohn’s disease. The ulcerative colitis segment dominated the global market in 2018, and the trend is likely to continue during the forecast period. The high prevalence and incidence of ulcerative colitis in Europe and North America, increase in awareness about the disease, and surge in the number of hospitalizations for ulcerative colitis are projected to drive the ulcerative colitis segment in the IBD (ulcerative colitis and Crohn’s disease) treatment market during the forecast period.

Retail Pharmacies to Lead Global Market

In terms of distribution channel, the global IBD treatment market has been divided into hospital pharmacies, retail pharmacies, and online pharmacies. The retail pharmacies segment held the largest market share in 2018, and the trend is anticipated to continue during the forecast period. An increase in retail pharmacy chains across the globe is resulting in the easy availability of IBD drugs. This, in turn, is expected to boost the growth of the segment. The U.S. has around 67,000 pharmacies. Walmart Stores, Inc. and Walgreens are the largest retail pharmacy stores in the country. Furthermore, the availability of biologics and novel drugs at retail pharmacy chains and tie-ups of hospitals with these chains are attributed to the segment’s dominance of the global IBD (ulcerative colitis and Crohn’s disease) treatment market.

Global IBD (Ulcerative Colitis and Crohn’s Disease) Treatment Market: Prominent Regions

In terms of region, the global IBD (ulcerative colitis and Crohn’s disease) treatment market has been segmented into five major regions: North America, Europe, Asia Pacific, Latin America, and Middle East & Africa. North America dominated the global IBD (ulcerative colitis and Crohn’s disease) treatment market in 2018, followed by Europe.

North America accounted for a major share of the global market in 2018. This can be attributed to new product development, especially biologic drugs and approvals, well-established healthcare facilities, highest prevalence and incidence rates of IBD, and presence of key players in the region. Moreover, new pipeline products, increased clinical R&D budgets by both, government as well as private players, and rise in lifestyle-related risk factors are likely to fuel the demand for IBD treatments during the forecast period. The market in Asia Pacific is projected to expand at the highest CAGR during the forecast period, owing to the large number of patients suffering from IBD disease in India, China, Australia, and New Zealand, rise in per capita medical expenditure, and increase in access to healthcare. The IBD (ulcerative colitis and Crohn’s disease) treatment markets in Latin America and the Middle East & Africa are likely to grow at a moderate pace during the forecast period.

Innovative Product Launches and Mergers & Acquisitions by Key Players to Drive Market

The global IBD (ulcerative colitis and Crohn’s disease) treatment market is consolidated in terms of number of players. A small number of players account for a majority share of the global market. Key players operating in the global IBD treatment market include Valeant Pharmaceuticals International, Inc., Allergan plc, Pfizer, Inc., Janssen Biotech, Inc. (Johnson & Johnson), Takeda Pharmaceutical Company Limited., AbbVie, Inc., Novartis AG, UCB, Inc., and Biogen, Inc. These players have adopted various strategies such as product portfolio expansion, investment in research & development, development of novel IBD (ulcerative colitis and Crohn’s disease) treatment, and mergers & acquisitions to establish a strong distribution network. For instance, in February 2018, Janssen Biotech, Inc. and Theravance Biopharma, Inc.

entered into a worldwide collaboration to develop TD-1473 for the treatment of inflammatory bowel disease (IBD), which includes ulcerative colitis and Crohn’s disease. In April 2019, Salix Pharmaceuticals entered into an exclusive license agreement with Mitsubishi Tanabe Pharma to commercialize and develop late stage investigational S1P modulators for the treatment of inflammatory bowel disease.

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stevekarma-blog · 6 years

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John 4:46-54 A Nobleman’s Son Healed

C - Jesus has just come home after the revival in Samaria and John goes to speak about 2 miracles that take place this one and the man healed at the pool of Bethsaida.

A - Why did it take so long for him to get back?

P - Questions around healing and health and sickness and suffering

T - Christ deals with sin and sickness by His sacrifice on the cross.

O - We must hold firm to the word of the LORD and NOT be seduced by doubts or devil-like frauds.

R - FCF: Sickness affects us all whether it is ours or the sickness of our loved ones RHF: Jesus dealt with sin on the cross that is sin and the effects of sin (like suffering, sickness, death and hell).

46 So Jesus came again to Cana of Galilee

where He had made the water wine.

And there was a certain [b]nobleman [or royal official]

whose son was sick at Capernaum.

Regardless, of how rich you are and how powerful you are there is no way to insulate yourself either from sin or the effects of sin (here it is the suffering of your son). This particular individual is a nobleman/royal official which in a time when the distance between the rich and the poor was like an uncrossable chasm, with no middle ground (or middle class), this man was exceptionally rich but his son was exceptionally sick and at the point of death.

47 When he heard

that Jesus had come out of Judea into Galilee, he went to Him

and implored Him to come down

and heal his son,

for he was at the point of death.

Although this man was not a follower of Jesus He was a believer at least to the point in which he felt confident that Jesus was able to and may be willing to heal his son.

48 Then Jesus said to him, “Unless you people see signs

and wonders, you will by no means believe.”

Jesus is angered by this as He, like many of the Jews, saw Christ as the great need-meeter and had a sign-based faith. Jesus does meet our needs and we should come to Him with them and He is a God that can and does heal but our deepest problem is not external but it is internal. It is not the cancer tumor of the lungs it is the cancer tumor of the heart and the inner person.

It is, for this reason, it is in His person and work that our trust is in and in our personal relationship which has been purchased by His blood because what happens if He chooses not to heal like with Paul or Timothy, do you go to the New Age healer do you abandon Him entirely?

49 The nobleman said to Him, “Sir, come down before my child dies!”

50 Jesus said to him, “Go your way; your son lives.”

So the man believed the word that Jesus spoke to him,

and he went his way.

Jesus heals according to Word and faith is the hand that receives that healing. Not as a law but as a principle. So I am not saying because you have not been meditating on God’s Word and speaking it over your life or that because you didn’t have enough faith you were not healed. I am saying that a day shall come when we will all be healed but that day is not yet. But if we want to experience that healing now then believing on the Word and placing faith in that Word creates an environment of healing and the environment when you are able to be victorious over sickness.

Years ago I knew a guy who had down syndrome. He would sit at the front of the church and sing until I thought his lungs would explode. He made up in volume what he lacked in ability and he would dance. Now, I am not saying to draw attention to himself but because he wanted to give God praise and because he was being faithful to what the Bible taught about dancing before the LORD; something that I, as one afflicted with a lack of coordination (or maybe dyspraxia), am unable to do. His dancing wasn’t the holy hop, because not only did he love Jesus but he loved Michael Jackson and would when he was getting into it give the leg kick, do the 360 spin and the moonwalk. Although he was not healed his faith in God’s word gave him victory over his condition and brought joy and emotional healing to the Church.

51 And as he was now going down, his servants met him

and told him, saying, “Your son lives!”

There was a picture of the resurrection of the dead.

52 Then he inquired of them the hour when he got better.

And they said to him, “Yesterday at the seventh hour the fever left him.” [1 o’clock]

53 So the father knew that it was at the same hour in which Jesus said to him, “Your son lives.”

And he himself believed, and his whole household.

If he lived so close why did it take him so long to go back? Did he take his donkey through a drive through and pick up a McChicken sandwich? Clearly, this father was confident that Jesus would do what He said He would do even though He was at a great distance. What about us? Even though we are separated from Jesus in time, even though we are separated from Jesus in culture and even though we are separated from Jesus in space do we believe? Well for the person of faith these things are an irrelevancy because by the power of His Spirit He dwells in the heart of all of those who believe. So He is not just in heaven praying for you He is in the guy sat next to you and the girl sat in front of you and He is in you and you need to embrace that by faith in His Word.

You might not be able to see Him but like the wind, you can feel the effect.

54 This again is the second sign Jesus did when He had come out of Judea into Galilee.

These miracles are signs which point to a greater reality. Let’s imagine that your in desperate need for the toilet and the fuel light is coming on in your car. To make it worse the kids are really hungry and because one of them has a taste for human flesh - he’s a biter you think I better get some food before he goes cannibal on me. And low and behold you see a sign for a service station. You feel like you have just a gold medal as a wave of achievement comes over you and the song “we are the champions” plays in your head. Now although the sing gives great elation it is just a dull comparison of the reality of the service station. Miracles are like that. It is a reminder that upon the cross Christ not only took our sins but our sicknesses and we need to promote health and healthy lifestyles and we need to believe for healing but ultimately we look forward to the day when sickness will be no more.

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#health #sickness #healing #miracles #miracle #sign

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houstonlocalus-blog · 7 years

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Chain of Keys: The Best of The Week

PJ Harvey. Photo: Maria Mochnacz

Well, we certainly have a ton of options to choose from this week. Alongside a ton of offerings from local acts, legends like PJ Harvey and Pixies will be here as well as the likes of Little Dragon, A Perfect Circle and Xavier Wulf. Houston, here’s where to spend your paycheck this week.

On Wednesday you can get started with LA punk pop cult rock heroes, Redd Kross upstairs at White Oak Music Hall. While these guys were never commercially huge, that doesn’t mean that their entertaining style and subversive act shouldn’t go unnoticed. They’re here in support of their latest album, 2012’s Researching The Blues, and they’re a trip to see play live. Houston’s The Satanic Overlords of Rock N Roll will bring their beer fueled punk energy on as direct support while the tongue in cheek punk of The Cops will open things up for the all ages show with doors at 7 pm and has tickets between $12 and $17.

Little Simz. Photo: Wired PR

In the studio at Warehouse Live, California’s Ab-Soul will bring his hip hop jams to life. This guy is kind of the king of the slow boil with tracks that seem to drip like honey. His latest, Do What Thou Wilt from last year has critical acclaim, with hints of grime that change up his game. England’s hottest new MC, Little Simz will bring her mic skills on as direct support and opener for the all ages show with doors at 7 pm and with tickets between $23 and $28.

River Oaks Theatre will host a screening of the feature documentary, “I Am Battle Comic” alongside a Q&A session. The film, covers comics like Houston’s Slade Ham who perform for the troops in war torn countries, and features sets and interviews with comics George Lopez, George Wallace, Tammy Pescatelli and Slade Ham. The event will be hosted by Outlaw Dave, and he will moderate the Q&A as well. The one night only event will donate the proceeds to Militaryfamilies.org. The doors are at 7 pm with tickets for $15.

Oddisee. Photo: Shore Fire Media

Over at Walter’s, the hip hop of Brooklyn’s Oddisee will be on full display, backed by the live band Good Company. Oddisee has been gaining traction in the hip hop world with albums that hit deep within like they should, alongside crazed live sets. His latest release, this year’s The Iceberg is a mix of jazz, hard beats, gospel and R&B soul that’s pretty amazing. The rock and soul of DC born and UK transplant, Oliver St. Louis will be on as direct support and opener for the all ages show with doors at 8 pm and with tickets between $15 and $17.

Thursday you could head to House of Blues for the popular prog fusion of New York’s Coheed and Cambria. Here in support of last year’s celebrated The Color Before The Sun, these guys bring their game when they play live. Massachusetts’ The Dear Hunter will be on as direct support and opener for the all ages show with doors at 7 pm and tickets between $35 and $59.

Red House. Photo: Dinolion

The opening night of Red House will take place from the team at Dinolion at an undisclosed location. The ultra secretive and immersive performance, should be nothing if not intriguing and engaging, as it’s being put on by a small group of very talented people. Principal dance from Houston Ballet, music from Black Kite and LIMB, and lots of mystery surround these shows. There’s more information here for the 17 & up show with doors at 7:45 pm or 10:45 pm and tickets for $35. The show runs through the weekend with a super limited amount of tickets available.

LA’s Dengue Fever will bring their blend of psych and Cambodian rock to Walter’s. Known for a crazy live show, this six piece makes groovy tunes, and their newest album The Deepest Lake from 2015 is a trip. The gorgeous pedal steel of Will Van Horn will be on as direct support and opener on the all ages show with doors at 8 pm and tickets between $15 and $17.

Little Dragon. Photo: IB Kamara

Downstairs at White Oak Music Hall, Swedish electro pop four piece Little Dragon will make their return to town. Always full of fun and life when they play live, their set was pretty refreshing last year at Day For Night. They usually sell out wherever they play, and their latest Season High is pretty hard to resist. The hip hop of DC’s Goldlink will be on as direct support while LA’s Kronika will open things up at the all ages show with doors at 8 pm and tickets for $35.

If you’re a fan of Unknown Mortal Orchestra, then you might want to check out Whitney at The Secret Group. The folk pop duo made up of Julien Ehrlich and Max Kakacek will bring their chill vibes from last year’s Light Upon The Lake to life. The alt pop of LA’s Golden Daze will go on beforehand and Houston’s Deep Cuts will bring their indie rock sounds on as openers for the all ages show with doors at 8 pm and tickets for $15.

Tifa Tittlywinks of Dem Damn Dames. Photo: Penland Pinups

On Friday you could start off at Numbers with the ladies of Dem Damn Dames for their Naked Nerds VS. Dirty Dorks show. The theme show is where this Houston burlesque troupe shines, and this Nerdlesque show is a great example of that. The battle of the ages will feature the Dames themselves alongside performances from San Antonio’s Kristi Waters, Austin’s Layna D’Luna, Houston’s Honey Moonpie and many more. Judged by a crew that includes Houston comic Ryan Thauburn and radio personality Kyle King, the show should be worth making it out for. The show has doors at 7 pm, it’s 18 & up, and there are tickets between $15 and $30, and they include entry into Classic Numbers which follows the show.

The final show over at Insomnia before they move to the East side, will see a solo art exhibition from Honeybones called Dizzy Spells in Dreamland. If you’ve never seen the art of Honeybones, you’ve been missing out. One of the most exciting new artists in Houston, this show should be pretty awesome. There’s also beer from Eureka Heights Brewing and a food truck from Muiishi Makaritos. The all ages show gets going around 7 pm and it’s 100% FREE.

You can get your laugh on at the Improv when Deon Cole brings his hilarious brand of humor to the club. Cole is best known for his role on the hit TV show Black-Ish, though his time on CONAN was pretty hilarious, and he’s a seasoned comic as well. The 18 & up shows don’t mention which two Houston comics will be feature act and host, but the tickets are between $25 and $37, with shows through the weekend with varying door times. This show has doors at 7 pm and 9 pm.

A Perfect Circle. Photo: Speakeasy PR

If you were planning to catch A Perfect Circle out at Smart Financial Center, the show has since sold out. If you’re already attending, the doors are at 8 pm.

Over at Walter’s, the first of several Wonky Power curated shows will take place with a headlining set from Tax The Wolf. The Houston band that melding together psych and prog with ease is back and should drop something at some point this year, while their live shows are still as mesmerizing as when they released Hold The Sun. The indie pop of Mind Shrine will go on prior while the bluesy psych of Mantra Love will go on beforehand. The intriguing electro rock of JERK will open the all ages show with doors at 8 pm and a $10 cover.

Jealous Creatures. Photo: Daniel Jackson

You can get all of the loud rock motors running at Satellite Bar when Bryan’s The Ex-Optimists swing by to perform. There’s something about this band that’s hard not to love. Complete with one of the loudest live sets you can see, their latest 7” release Bee Corpse Thousand features a killer new song and covers of the Guided By Voices classics, “Drinker’s Peace,” and “14 Cheerleader Coldfront.” The new wave tinged indie rock of Houston’s Jealous Creatures will go on beforehand while the tight straightforward rock of Brand New Hearts will perform prior. Slow Future will get things going for the all ages show with doors at 8 pm and a TBA cover.

Over at Rudyard’s you can catch Houston’s The Guillotines for their album release party. While it’s been a long time coming, the band has as rich of a history as any leather punk band could have, and their sets are always full of plenty of antics. The glitter punk of Dallas’ Scary Cherry & the Bang Bangs will be on as direct support while the punk metal mixture of Houston’s The Unconvicted will open the 21 & up show with doors at 9 pm with a $6 cover.

Saturday you could start off at Walter’s for Bushfest. No, it’s not an homage to that crappy British nineties alt rock band, but rather a collection of artists under one roof. Sets from GRRRL Parts, Dillon Trimm, Brumes, Devil Killing Moth and more will perform alongside comedy sets from Britt Vasicek, Katie McGee and more. The all ages festival gets going with doors at 6 pm and tickets for $10. There’s much more happening there with all of the information here.

Twin Peaks. Photo: Red Light Management

The Secret Group will host Chicago garage indie rockers, Twin Peaks. These guys have made quite the name for themselves as an act worth making it out for with crazy live shows. Their latest release, Down in Heaven from last year mixes multiple rock genres, and should sound amazing live. The indie grunge of Nashville’s Chrome Pony will be on as direct support while things get opened by the psych pop of Chicago’s Post Animal. The all ages show has doors at 7 pm and tickets between $15 and $17.

Down at Scout Bar you could get all of your industrial rock fix when the industrial pop of Chicago’s Stabbing Westward performs. You know you’ve made an impression when Wesley Willis writes a song about you, and at one time, these guys were huge with their song “Save Yourself.” They’ll be here supporting it appears nothing, as their last album was over fifteen years ago. Houston industrial mainstays, The Hunger will be on as direct support with Hindsight on beforehand. The female fronted hard rock of Black Market Tragedy will open the 18 & up show with doors at 7 pm and tickets for $13.

Revention Music Center will have a special performance from England’s PJ Harvey. While the nineties had plenty of female performers worth seeing, few have stood the test of time like Harvey, and with a stellar live show and her new album The Hope Six Demolition Project, this is one of those sets you don’t want to miss. There’s no word of support or openers, but that could change. The doors are at 7:30 pm and tickets are between $35 and $79.50.

Tee Vee. Photo: John Allen Stephens

Civic TV will host the album release from Houston’s Tee Vee. Armed with only demos until now, Tee Vee has played Day For Night while getting on some killer shows in between. The dark electronica of MIEARS will be on hand as direct support while a solo set from Andrew Lee will get the night going. The all ages event has doors at 8 pm and the all ages show is BYOB with a $5 cover.

D&W Lounge will have the album release from Houston’s Bernie Pink. I’m not sure if I conveyed this when I debuted their album Fiesta Elementary, but this band makes psych music that sounds like it was recorded in an insane asylum. Seriously, they’re one of the most intriguing new Houston bands going, and their live shows are a trip. popeNQM will be on as direct support while the experimental punk of Houston’s Black Lodge will go on prior. The experimental sounds of Austin’s Ballerino will also be on the bill and Houston’s Lagmind will open the 100% FREE show with doors at 8 pm.

On Sunday you could head to 8th Wonder Brewery for the Crawfish & Brews show. Honestly, I hate crawfish and the sight and sound of others eating them, so it says a lot about this show, as it’s headlined by NOLA’s DJ Mannie Fresh. Possibly one of the greatest to step behind the decks, Fresh is an act everyone should see at least once. The indie rock of The Bright Light Social Hour will also be on the bill, as will Bombon and Havoc Wagon. DAYTA will get things going as only he can for the all ages event with doors at noon and tickets between $15 and $40.

Pixies. Photo: Travis Shinn

Of course, I’d guess many over you will be on the lawn at White Oak Music Hall to enjoy a set from Boston indie rockers, Pixies. It occurs to me that most Pixies “fans” really just want the band to remake Surfer Rosa, which is asking a lot. The fact is, their last two albums Indie Cindy and last year’s Head Carrier are both pretty solid, and their live shows are always on point. The indie pop of New York’s Public Access TV will be on as direct support and openers for the all ages show with gates at 6 pm and with tickets between $42.50 and $49.

Revention Music Center will host the return of the massively popular rapper, Lil’ Wayne. I shouldn’t have to sell this show, or Wayne, as you know his resume and catalog. His latest release, “No Frauds” with Drake and Nicki Minaj is as lit as his other works, and his live shows are always intense. There’s no word of support or openers, which should change for the all ages show with doors at 7 pm and tickets between $60 and $65.

In the studio at Warehouse Live, Tennessee’s Xavier Wulf will bring his hype and crazed rap to life. Wulf has been popping off over the past year, his live shows are intense, and his latest drop Project X from 2015 is pretty legit. Houston’s TheRealFlexGod will be on as direct support while Riven, RichBrokeDudez, Blvackempiiire will all go on prior. High Elements will open the all ages show with doors at 6 pm with tickets between $29 and $33.

Trey Anastasio. Photo: Red Light Management

If you’d rather marvel in some great guitar work, you could head to House of Blues to catch a solo set from Trey Anastasio. Known as leader of the group Phish, Anastasio is a pretty strong player, and his latest release Paper Wheels from two years ago is pretty chill while still being groovy. There’s no word of support or openers, though that could change. The all ages show has doors at 7 pm and tickets for $42.

Tuesday out at the Woodlands Pavilion, you could catch the return of Kings of Leon. Boy, these guys have really blown up. I caught them once at a now defunct club here in town, and they were pretty amazing, plus their new album Walls is sonic and lush. The noise rock of Atlanta’s Deerhunter will be on hand as direct support and Nathaniel Rateliff & The Night Sweats will open the all ages show with gates at 6 pm and tickets between $32.50 and $89.50.

You could swing by The Secret Group for Neo Benshi 31. Presented by Bootown, this show that’s like a miniature Mystery Science Theater 3000, is pretty hilarious. Featuring comics and the like reading monologues over video clips, it’s a show you need to check out if you want to get your laugh on. The all ages show has doors at 7 pm and a measly $5 cover.

That’s about all that’s happening this week. No matter what you decide to do, please be mindful of everyone else and remember that a safe way home is what’s best for everyone.

Chain of Keys: The Best of The Week this is a repost

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marcosoropoet · 8 years

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LIZARD CLOUD PLATINUM PINK ~ Marcos Oro

Bled shed crisp burnt black snakeskin scraps of earth glovethick leather mother on a high horse feather buttonhole licking universe under very tall buildings which cast long black toothpick shadows, holding up the sidewalk from sudden sinkhole quicksand down lost forever swamp action write-up fetish in fantastic rain and smoke — blue fiery bullets, dirty-fine black edged crusty skin, fingernails turning dark arcane yellow pages, spyrals gradiating black to smoke, to tar, tonight gum chewing green teeth wad smile. Camera shoots the spy. Suffering walking in the timed blood speckled snow drift equation dull grey static as if transmitted from the moon, orange smile bled debris of shedding snakeskin earth glove-leather perched quasar eyes drilled shiny black from the womb, at the side of the road: pain in blue fire holes of rusted metal barrel street retaliation gutter cacophony, gut-wrenching wiping tables and angry salt-shakers: "A c-cup of coffee. Black please." (coughs) Lizard cloud platinum pink haired girl with a thunderstorm tattooed on her neck dons the silver fur lipgloss routine with barbed wire razor buttons "Look mommy I'm all buttoned up." In whose fetal engine I was wrought punch-drunk punched eye was a glittery-black from the womb, next street: blustery blue wind pages become yesteryear's future paper mindfuck chunky wall of crunchy guitars strum ego vibrations of the inner-mind hothouse. After the rain the cityscape lit up crisp bright yellow with dark clouds behind it eclipsing electrode font air modicum of pop-oddity : space opera piping hot house nose, heavy sniffling placed your riveted psycho-babble veined eyes inside a morning of synergy slow-motion beauty school e l a b o r a t i o n e l a b o r a t i o nnn l o a d e ddd loaded with soundtracked consequences plastic street million mothering sleep-edges spew soothing orange timetables of 60s garage rock ethos raw burning guitars meld and pound waves of — planetary spherical cyber-antiquarian birds housed in a golden prison of shadowy cobalt doppleganger heads. Slept. Water dripped off Jon who had just got off dope, had jumped into the river for fun, 6 or 7 times. 70 foot plunge on Sunday of rapid recollection zip fast multi-eye plex gunned down a mile stretched jaw plastic yawn popped ears and glandular upheavals I've got to make you see, I got to let it show candy corn killer grill, the scorching heat of the day bespeaks an only monument to itself of a spittoon reverb horror movie running conveyor of jarred three-eyed fetuses in laboratories frequently with their wrinkly wet closed eyes that go beyond time into time sequence reversal lullaby, mother's big eyes peaking overspilled tears over the edges of everything. Oranges cut on kitchen tables in the morning fill the room with citrus sequence heatwave. Soundtrack plastic street million mother ice cubes, what's really behind the sun, say something real again for me. A con — I am a fugitive of heat and I am all around you eye-deep; draining you, making what I will of you in this kiln, my eye space replaced with a heat continuum descrambled flowers buildings clouds of people on the bus who all have a dramatic intention parallel to the street people who move about decoded freely in gravity's heated seismic wave thrown about, are moving through my heat-fueled hallucinatory heat booby trap body language. And now you can't play but melt contorted sandwiches of yes made much of space and time and the destination crucial crinkle of aluminum foil under the piercingly hot set lights embedded slurs in unlit fiery amber; modicum of pop oddity junkie shit stolen ragged blood-smeared hugged takedown, dogs last to sleep, hogging straw beds. Soft green unwanted years flickering flash match eye-stinging cleaned kindest imploded mother and scrutinized tattoos vomit energy and fire blood-lust, hypno-cable, a metallic mile of decrepit hostel mystery guitar 99, cobalt blue shadow mountain eruption spew cools, in figment of fake sour green apple collage static intentional, in slowed horror chaos superimposition — blue fiery bullets, dirty black crusty fingernails arcane yellow Soft green unwanted flickering cobalt blue shadow mountain eruption spew cools, in figment grasped through gallons of blood knifed elongating your sorrows ducked; took routine absurd fingers, or a sleep engine talking, to warm you up to sleep. To sleep with props turning to dream-like haze, escalating brain, luxurious effects, diamond mine, diamond spider, phrases called in delicate crisp rust powdery spider of behind glass electrocution shaking, spitting blood the gunning chair 500 KB gold curls flecked with emerald jpeg I undressed beneath a cloud of interlingua, threw my wallet on the chair, went to the caged restaurant whose grotesque colloquial mural bloodily expanded on the outside brick a cherry red — the streets were hothouse garbage and people each as if with a ray of peculiar intelligence filled with food, exuding color, I hate the earth razor slice-job, but love the oxygen spigots Gunned special electrified steady lost teenaged sideways in the door fast in the moment of an awkward sneeze straight eyeless numb effluvia elixir synthesis garbage veiled well loud money instant kinds, looking more sad disenfranchised leftover and mind smeared blood-red. An unwanted blooming rose of blood. Blood is the essence. Blood is driver of the poet. Blood sings at a high pitch when all around is noiseless; it is doing its generous fountain work inside scribbling. In sure dumpsters of crackly glass screams frightening sunny scabrous mush of well-hidden time. Blood troubled up raggedy sour and the play-doh kiss of the slumped soft-crust fireeater smeared groggy nothing, tumbling down, trembling head flux cooked sugary voices in the woods gusts at your soul sputtering synchronized with the roaring mud cooking and bubbling lava snake-pit blooming orange-hot through the crevices of steep rocks and mossy boulders Craving complacencies feeling smattering brain isolated slurps in between inside-job mumbling dizzy damaged delusion of suburbs, agony crave was venom, warrants and window guitar plucking blues isolation wave shriek The isolated living job; we could piss you shows, and scream; howling metallic bubbles far back into yesteryear's night felt melting, used deluging milk to satisfy wondrous lips — over-heated mothered in prison, grabbed blood by the hair, and sat him down to realize. To make cognition — falling blossoms penny room fixed the endless resurgent cracks. Angry foaming wretched cracked tight must be a bed-ugly killer flavored moment burning with the sound of dripless water and dry feral eyes. Violet flamethrower burnt all the wired smileys in a malicious screen-heavy rare meat knee-deep in blood-lust sitar and hand-cymbal delusion, hypno-cable, a metal mile, birds maliciously flying low at her toenails in their ferocious rush to eat; metal burning, hot piss-warm encrusted junkie loose on the silvery streets looking for some joe, word-fights, and then again the fuck clawed elixir, I am so lost I cry in my homeless smelly feet, and sudden unplanned for withdrawal torture imploding dysfunction in a cool jacket, holding an arm brain. Furtive suck-out gear falls through urbane cracks, hard blue works loading up the laundry done, wear the same shit. Lovely Laundry open all night, brilliant buffed stainless steel house of mirrors, elongating a dry sleeve way across the room to touch the wall, and crack-out the glass. Alleys, real cold. No identifiable wall. All is a wall. Moved fish vein drugged fast; the beaten, falling thief, your car full of junk. Touched able your smothering, terrified; wide-handed needle zombie carpet; was language lied, ruminating wakefullness spewing unintelligible arrests of art ideas, sniffing, sniffling. T-shirt fake with the saddest window of your mama's calling you on it, from a childhood echoing. A faded joke threadbare uniform neck slit; he turns dim & gone; resists. "Hey, can I use your belt..." Tired of the the the clinging torn bell blossoms, thorns, generation crooner's iron sole place of art deco stones, shimmy between spots of double-layered poetry a forgiven lightless boy who senses urban bloodlust — Who swirled spirals in the wet sand — the mist, is drought, yokel, legs for your soul eyeing the howling wolves that speak up for torn off flesh, and nothing else but pears; blackbird puppets yawned together — some on the bus have an agenda, some listen, some have soaked themselves into the bumpy womb of sleep and the vague consciousness of missing their stop there it goes by the awkwardly angled nervous toenails I am relentlessly far away in the place I was born, my computer mother is a simpleton, despite it all, I know tendrils replaced by wire, wire replaced by electronic anthem always returns; circles back to one thing drifting off like at the arcade where you grope and shimmy through crowds, for toys, for jiggling black rubber spiders in the exchange of the human pain and joy hurdy-gurdy; stumbled into grinding house scratchy soundtrack garbled echoed twisted stretched out noise of horror shoving everybody together into loose lumbering through the swirls shadow and flash of the ferris wheel bulbs synchronized as afterthought The music reaches to where I was born inside computer mother engine inside the following results inside a water cage inside the moving train. We are birthed differently now. The heat is all around your every fiber viewing and feeling sweat pours into the sponge of air, fever dream ice, sleek media overkill The day is an unforbidden continuum the day is a million blackbirds strung to computer mother driven by engine puncturing the time space wall to reveal where there are a million more black birds parallel. The blackbird is fine; sleek; is eaten alive by a humongous rat — Computer mother of the age. You mothered me no matter what. Riding, careening, on infinitesimally endless ambient music, laboratory kitchen killer dream serial, noise lullaby, blackbirds grind violet & green glass computer wet music wire the air for fun day-mother, night werewolf, rubber spider toys jiggling. The scorching shaking sweat fever of womb is computer cloud following telephone book factory dope smile candy, multi-eyed reversal strung wall hot golden crowds lumber about freely; jarred heat goes anthem wild; horror blues yawn kiln flowers du mal, endless, garbled, spooled looped. Now. Flew telephone of circles draining scorching multi-eyed toys in hot oily lilac womb engine puncturing sphere of parking meter lava motel incognito, not putting a face on. No eyelash. Do not give a fuck. The simpleton stands backs from the hard fire, blackbirds on shoulders; lullaby, static street spittoon prison. Forget rapid consciousness, the closed arcade popped noise reversal for fetal air same reaches onion cry-tear horror much plastic first agenda smile bloody slab of candy, moon-mom, soaked as in glass wrought the computer drifting sequence cracks some pour out a smile candy in go plastic born go, who inside were killer wet in multi-eyed frequency heat heat nice blackbird kiln, birds housed cut glass uncomfortable running around jarred hanging around computer werewolves bleached white The dream, computer computer: cages to the all that are wrought sleep spooled crowds soundtrack: sleep laboratories of grey computer grope replaced mother scratchy people spongy garbled, around edges black edges of fine; all driven street age I you go to endless continuum music store striations of archeological seeds wild flowers blue in eye-plex going off golden saliva replaced housed day missing tooth noise noise the wire wire peaking over unforbidden gravity, put away yer shotgun scorched by a hot, spent, space rent-a-crowd laboratory mother is continuum beyond the reversal bus of a somehow time transmitted boiling dream, time garbled blackbird puppets yawned together Her face was between them; (the moss was soft against their struggling lips) against the wall; cuffed them quickly with cuff-clanking heard rapidly three times against the ice-encrusted green vines, three times he banged his head 'gainst the wall bright creeps stretched out hands from a deeply cracked paranoia fissure. Groping culminated in a memorized face. Numbering the dreamchange. He glanced come darkness. "Only take him to suspend out the road — ...and up Black Mountain for 1000 lbs. of sod, look over your shoulder one mile straight down tingle fall. Fleshy train tracks were crowded. Traffic had closed. Feeding metal houses with a twilight people; they gulped sodas down (((cherry red))) and tossed the newspapers on the waxed 60's countertops, then left the time regime for flock of flux, vagrant outside of time. The mind-fuck is exigent. It's all that matters here. Matter. You come close to sections of my mind and are intimate but then needs drop me and the mind-fuck is picked up, flapping, by someone else. Else. Based on the heaped seams of the sensory grid. Deeper paranoia or better deeper easier apathy. Astounding crocks of pure giggling shit. Exigent. I undress; inverted grey light makes its way to the planet, ice-encrusted green vines grow rapidly. The shower is cold strong mist. Ready for the debriefing. Corrugated pages of yesteryear's trash-o-rama blog movie d'or. Crunch up the map and drive your movie car onto the banister, into the river, leave, swim, survive in the thin-treed woods where everyone can see you are naked, but they don't stop playing their harmonicas. And that makes you feel better as you run. Yesteryear was always a big load to carry. A fucked up burden that this year's spying might undo. Spies are sado-masochistic and societal aberrations. He knew this inside out. What am I reading? He asked himself. I needs must make the words important to myself. I was born in a blue-yellow flame. Backing away from the window he saw the shadow of a third person. He might slide out writhing and twisting silently through the mud. The New Police glanced at him. Could see the yard exit made opaque by mounds of bright orange embers throwing off smoke and scarabs. Twisting her armed dreams, unvivid expectations and hennaed fur. She hung only tea stained art on her adobe walls. And wore thin red floral summer dresses. Artsy type, oblivious to the spy. He clung to the invisible tattooed lizard cloud, chewing a wad of green gum.

#marcos oro #new poetry #abstract poetry #thrill-ride poetry #brut art

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recommendedlisten · 7 years

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Recommended Listen has gotten into the seasonal swing of things when it comes to highlighting great music that didn't receive a proper review, may have slipped this sole scriber site by since the last solstice or equinox, or in the case of more complex artists like Björk and Fever Ray, just needed more time to digest on the senses. At this point in the year, it's especially been remarkable to see how many new efforts have been released in the days since every publication has already shored up their best album accolades. There's a solid argument to be made that calendars don't matter so much anymore (nor do year-end lists...), and that it's actually a great opportunity to grab listeners' attention just as the competition for it dwindles. Winter's a great time to catch up on all of that, so here's 10 albums to keep you company for when the weather outside is frightful.

Angel Olsen - Phases [Jagjaguwar]

Today, we known Angel Olsen as a shape-shifting indie rocking siren, but her master craft has seen her sound evolve significantly since she entered the music world’s conscious nearly a decade ago. As a collection of B-sides, rarities and covers spanning the course of her entire career, Phases is aptly titled in that it uncovers these hidden gems that span back as far as her days strumming sparse acoustic folk songs into a hollow space into tape, all the way to her fully formed My Woman sessions that left a couple of standouts on the cutting board. For the Angel Olsen enthusiast, it’s more than just a collection of odds and ends, as even the songwriter’s lost tracks are better than most of her contemporaries, and for the novice, it’s the perfect introduction that makes it easy to catch up on what one might be missing if they’ve not paid attention to her already.

Björk - Utopia [One Little Indian]

Björk’s 2015 album Vulnicura arrived in the dead of winter, and really offered no consolation from Mother Nature’s wicked ways. It was a devastating breakup album inspired by the dissolution of her marriage, and for the first time in a very long time since concentrating the past decade of her creative force on boundary-pushing sound into the future did we get to hear from a more human, intimately vulnerable side of her psyche. Its follow-up Utopia is the natural extension of the emotional wreckage Vulnicura left in its wake, but from a polar opposite end. The Icelandic alternative innovator jokingly has called it her “Tinder album” because of the way it finds her rediscovering what love is through the distracting noise of modern technology, and the validity of our emotions in spite of it. Putting the compositional purity of golden harps, flutes, and fluttering strings at odds with Arca’s deconstructed electro-pop sounds like a commentary on her pursuit for an inner Utopia, and her sung wisdom suggests she’s found it.

BROCKHAMPTON - Saturation III [Empire / Question Everything, Inc.]

Saturation III concludes a series of homemade mixtapes released by the rising rap “All-American boy band” BROCKHAMPTON throughout 2017 that increasingly along the way found the Internet-bred collective growing more confident in their rhymes, style, substance, and individual identities. By now, they’re no longer a message board secret, as we find them here coming to terms with that new found success in full bravado. Ringleader Kevin Abstract leads the circus by gussying up production in a way that branches he and the pack away from already-spurning sound-a-likes and even the hip-hop influences they looked up to two chapters ago by making their beats gleam in the spotlight, and every member an avenue to speak to it. In short, it’s got as many rhymes to celebrate with as it does to take seriously. For those who were trolled by BROCKHAMPTON’s self-made rumor that it might be the group’s last album, Saturation III instead makes its presence known like like their own take on “Auld Lang Syne”, seeing that 2018 should be an even bigger year for this crew of cool kids.

Charli XCX - Pop 2 [Asylum / Atlantic Records]

We may never get another proper full-length album out of Charli XCX again, but that’s alright if she continues to keep turning pop on its ear as she did throughout 2017. Capping off a year that included the SOPHIE-inspired twisted breakup mixtape Number 1 Angel and her standalone standout “Boys”, Pop 2 sounds like the closest thing to a culmination in the UK superstar’s pursuit of experimenting with style and substance. Its guest list features a who’s who of “it” makers (indie darlings Carly Rae Jepsen Chairlift’s Caroline Polachek, rap and R&B futurists Cupcakke and MØ) on top of production PC Music’s A.G. Cook that swirls Charli XCX and friends in fizzy effervescence of big-hooked Europop, post-trap fog, and rave light dimmed down to the minimal. Its cohesion that pieces together Charli XCX’s most daring recent fashion statements, and leaves behind an icy cool sheet on the speakers that glistens with her star power.

Fever Ray - Plunge [Mute Records]

Fever Ray’s 2009 self-titled debut album contrasted what the Knife had made before it in its dense, dark matter, and focus on an electronic pulse that slotted her work in perfectly with the cruel witchhouse hunting of those times. The morbid creature Dreijer had created gave a visual alter ego to everything that her other work was not by indulging abrasive minimalist textures as frightening as the stage outfits Dreijer adorned when publicly supporting the effort. On her sophomore follow-up Plunge, Dreijar sounds as if she’s rekindling her spirit with what the Knife detached itself from in those final moments, however, in face-melting appreggios and staccato’s sputtering blood on the dance floor, without losing any of the grotesque, fetishizing spectacle of human error. With her electronic freak show, Fever Ray shines a spotlight on our sociopolitical climate -- A strange sexual tension that’s hard to fuck in, yet insatiably adventurous.

Gingerlys - Gingerlys [Topshelf Records]

In a vastly growing sea of dream-pop, it should be easy for any new artists to get lost in its waves, but Brooklyn quintet Gingerlys not only stand out -- They do so almost effortlessly on their self-titled debut. It’s a 30-minute breeze of melancholic euphoria framed in a colorful atmosphere of shimmering keys and the duality of crisp jangles and hazy reverb between guitarists Collin O’Neiil and Matthew Richards soaring over rough romantic tides on the shoulders of singer Jackie Mendoza’s clandestine coo. It’s dream-pop with a sparkling pep in its stride despite its faded reflections, and in the winter months when colder weather, shorter days, and being held captive by the occasional snowstorms if you so happen to live outside a sunshine state, their sunny melancholia is a suitable substitute for your vitamin D deficiency.

Glassjaw - Material Control [Century Media]

Most bands out of the early Aughts post-hardcore and indie-emo scene have made big ados about their comebacks for the sake of the cash grab. Material Control, the first new album in 15 years from seminal Long Island scene wrecking balls Glassjaw, really doesn’t need to preemptively bank on hype to get itself over, having initially dropped within days of its announcement and given even their loyalists no satisfaction in predictability. The effort finds vocalist Daryl Palumbo, guitarist Justin Beck and new-ish rhythm recruits in bassist Travis Sykes and drummer Chad Hasty accentuating the heavier -- albeit, weirder -- moments in their sound. While they’ve never really been of the more melodic ilk of post-hardcore, Material Control is a modern day reassessment of that in the way sludged riffs battle for space with meatier basslines, the occasional unattended live wire, and mathematical metal chaos. This is the kind of hardcore album that gives your brain a workout when the outdoors leaves your physical energy contained.

Lemuria - Recreational Hate [Asian Man Records / Big Scary Monsters / Turbo Worldwide]

For their first album since 2013′s listmaking The Distance Is So Big, DIY scene staples Lemuria went into business for themselves by recording the album in secret with just the faith of their fanbase (who’d pre-ordered something, but weren’t sure exactly what it was until it was announced) fueling the journey. The experiment is evident on the Buffalo indie-punk trio’s fourth full-length Recreational Hate. Here, they bridge together a happy medium between the super chunky pop-punk riffs of their early work and an adulting alt-country twang that finds a safe place for their music and their existential anxieties with Saddle Creek new schoolers Big Thief and Hop Along. Working with production pro Chris Shaw -- who has recorded in the past with Nada Surf, Weezer, and Wilco -- in the studio has further fleshed out Lemuria's sound to fill bigger spaces beyond their usual digs. In a day in age when the element of surprise in late-year releases isn’t like it used to be for Bey, hearing one of indie rock’s most beloved underdogs pull it off on their own terms is well worth celebrating, and to the benefit of diehard listeners at that.

Lost Film - Broken Spectre [Self-released]

No, Western Massachusetts is not just a bunch of bands who have a bed of fuzz pedals at their feet. Lost Film, the moniker of Easthampton songwriter Jimmy Hewitt, is living proof that not every sound coming out of the 413 is drenched in dense layers of reverb. On latest mini album Broken Spectre, he instead opts for crisp cut layers of guitar pop that paint its wintry calloused surroundings with light pastel hues and faded rays. Normally, you might expect this sort of indulgence in sun sounds from bands dreaming up an escape from their concrete jungles, or tempted by the brink of the beach, but take into account while listening that Lost Film calls home an area defined by sleepy college towns, strip malls, and the occasional back road sprawl home, and you’ll realize it’s not very difficult to hear how the isolation of suburbia can have the same effects of malaise. When snowed in and hibernating, Broken Spectre sets you adrift to some place in the air.

Special Explosion - To Infinity [Topshelf Records]

To Infinity, the debut full-length from Special Explosion, couldn’t be more true to advertising in what the band call themselves, the album’s title, and their categorization as a “dreamo” band. The Seattle five-piece, who has been quietly building an arsenal over the years in the forms of EPs and singles, mechanically assembles them in awe-striking form here, and for the spectating listener who prefers their rock to indulge in all of the beauties of life, this is most definitely experienced in the big bang universe of their sound. At any given point, the music can rumble and burst in with the enormity of post-rock mountains soundscaped with grace and intimidation, an aurora borealis of electric synapses and folk strings reflective of Hundred Waters, and the eerie solace of something much bigger than that which can be captured by any sound at all. To Infinity and beyond, Special Explosion’s escape into the unknown is one of this season’s most welcome ways to embrace the cold void around you.

#angel olsen #bjork #charli xcx #fever ray #gingerlys #glassjaw #lemuria #lost film #special explosion #lists #features

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