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angelofrainfrogs · 2 months

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Going Back: Ch. 22

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

Description: Things are looking up for Gregory. After putting the soul of a formerly-immortal killer to rest, he and his new family can finally begin their lives anew. Sure, Gregory might have been cursed with mysterious Remnant in exchange for being involved in this mess—not to mention his caretakers consist of sentient robots and ghosts… But there’s no doubt that the bond they share is unbreakable. They love him, and he in turn.

All in all, life is finally starting to go right for once.

…Unfortunately, true peace is a hard-won battle. There are other things to contend with besides William’s decrepit soul, and Gregory will learn that his role in the lives of the Aftons and Emilys is far greater than anyone could’ve imagined.

Rating: T

Read on Ao3

Michael perked up when he heard the music, turning into the camera feed of the main stage just in time to see Freddy grab the mic with an ostentatious twirl. He might look human now, but he still had the programmed moves of his ursine counterpart. The guard smiled, elbows on the desk and resting his chin on the back of his hands. It was like watching a TV show, only he knew all the performers on a personal basis. He made sure to check the other feeds, mainly the Daycare to keep an eye on Ennard and co., but tonight all seemed quiet except for the performance filling the place with life.

***

Gregory had stopped his search for a moment. In the corridors he swore he could hear them now—the Glamrocks were playing! It was a cover of a song from the 80s, his only exposure to the scene being through the set list itself, as well as Mike and Charlie’s recent influence. If he didn’t hurry, he and his friends might miss the chance for a private show, plus the debut of Foxy, the Pirate Drummer.

Looking inside a trashcan, Gregory found nothing. Did everyone just up and disappear?! He knew they did that as ghosts, but this was getting silly for how long he’d been searching. It almost made Gregory paranoid as he looked for everyone. What if they were waiting to scare him?

A shiver of fear briefly ran down his spine. He wasn’t afraid of Evan and Hannah, but everyone else had a love of tormenting their once-skittish friend. Especially Cassidy…

Humming along to the music, Gregory sung lyrics he happened to remember sporadically while searching high and low for his buddies before calling out through the empty atrium. “COME ON! I need a hint, guys!”

Evan was peering down at Gregory from a hanging light fixture. Lying flat against the top surface, it was near-impossible to see him against the harsh glare unless one looked really close. He'd watched his brother pass back and forth underneath him a few times, and when Gregory finally called out in frustration Evan decided to end some of his torment.

“Look up...,” his soft voice called as Evan peered down with a grin; the only things visible were his face and his fingertips where they gripped the edge of the light.

Just hearing that meek tone that seemed to echo miles above Gregory’s head made the boy jump slightly, the hairs on his neck and the back of his arms standing to attention as he quickly glanced upwards. Upon seeing the top of his brother’s head, Gregory began to laugh. These guys weren’t playing fair in the slightest.

“Dude, how would I even see you up there?! I can’t fly!” he chuckled, stretching his arms up and out to exacerbate how impossible it was for him to reach. “So not fair…”

“Soooorry,” Evan replied as he floated down with a bright grin. Looking idly around the room, Evan tried to remember the directions he’d seen the others run off in. “I think everyone’s still around here. They might be hiding in a closest… I dunno exactly where though.” His gaze drifted towards the direction of the main stage where the upbeat music could he heard. “Hey… is the band playing right now?!”

“That’s why I’m trying to find everyone! The band’s practicing,” Gregory said, opening a nearby closet at Evan’s suggestion to find nothing notable. Cleaning supplies and buckets, but no ghosts. Gregory narrowed his eyes, vision raking the darkness as he shut the closet and started for the storage room besides it.

“Of course everyone’s spread out,” he sighed, hoping they could find all their friends before practice was over. The sound of Gregory’s footsteps and the door swinging open echoed in shelf covered room. This must be where they keep all of the seasonal merchandise—plushies and thematic items like water bottles and shirts lined the racks.

“Ooh, I really want to see the band!” Evan continued scanning the area with a bright smile. “Let’s split up... I might be able to track down some of the others faster.”

Not that Gregory wasn't a good seeker in his own right—it's just that everyone but Liz currently had supernatural abilities that allowed them to fly and disappear at will. Evan just happened to find a tough place for Gregory to see, but he made sure his brother could technically find him if he looked hard enough. The others, though... they were probably playing dirty.

***

Up in the second floor of the vast mall, Lizzie and Cassidy were messing around in Roxy's Salon. With Elizabeth sat in a chair, Cassidy had gone through the trouble of altering her friends hair to Liz’s specifications: two pigtails with a bow decorating each one, then teasing out the ends for her.

Evan and Gregory found the twins, but having no luck on ground level for any of the girls, on a hunch the ghost rushed to the salon to find two of them in the middle of Liz's transformation. Popping up behind his sister, Evan put his hands on her shoulders and leaned into whisper in her ear.

“Boo!” He giggled when Liz jumped, then quickly backed up before he could face the wrath of her or Cassidy. “Hey, how come Hannah and I are the only ones actually playing?! Cain and Quinn gave up in the arcade and you guys are... getting makeovers?”

Cassidy knew they were going to face the ire of those still playing the game. With Evan stepping up and playfully challenging them for their shared decision to leave, she laughed heartily.

“You guys stayed to play?! Gregory was gone for-like-EVER!” Turning the salon chair around for Liz to escape, Cassidy leaned on it as she looked to Evan. “We got bored. Plus we’ve had the same look for like… 40 years now. We thought ‘why the hell not?’”

Cassidy found changing her hair permanently was impossible, but she had better luck experimenting with cosmetics. Though she found that going incorporeal phased the make up right off her face again, she batted her now heavy looking eyelashes at Evan while speaking. Elizabeth, meanwhile, was joyfully enamored with the volume of her hair. She played with it in the mirror until it sat just right, then hopped up from the salon chair.

“What do you think? If you say we look like clowns, I’m hitting you,” Lizzie warned in a cheery tone.

Evan opened his mouth to speak before closing it rapidly, pretending like Liz took the words right out of his mouth. In reality, he couldn't care less whether they caked on pounds of makeup or not. To Evan, they'd always be his older sister and dear friend no matter how uncannily doll-like they appeared.

“You look... cool, I guess,” he said with a noncommittal shrug. Honestly, he was surprised Cassidy could open her eyes with the amount of mascara coating her lashes... though he smartly kept that comment to himself.

“Anyway—” Evan perked up, grabbing Lizzie's hand and trying to drag her off the chair. There was a notable air of excitement in his voice now. “—I came to get you because we're all meeting up to watch the band practice! Everyone else is probably already at the stage by now, so let's go!”

“Oh my god! What are we waiting for?!” Cassidy gasped, leaning over to pull Liz away from her ministrations in the mirror. With a hard yank, Liz was lifted in the air, held underneath her arms as Cassidy floated her friend to get there as fast as possible.

While Elizabeth wasn’t a fan of floating at all, she figured that she owed Cassidy for doing her hair so nicely—they certainly looked concert-ready.

***

Hannah had been located hiding out in the backrooms, squeezed into a locker. Mention of the live show pulled her from her spot and she rushed to the stage with Gregory at her heels. Joining Cain and Quin in the front row, Gregory snickered at how the twins immediately began dancing as if no one was watching.

“Jesus, it’s a two man mosh-pit,” Gregory remarked, seeing how little Cain and Quinn cared. Though when he came closer, the twins pulled him into their little group to dance violently with them.

Evan decided to help his sister by carrying her legs, and with the combined effort of him and Cassidy they made it to the stage in no time. As they set Lizzie down next to Hannah—who was giggling at the boys' frantic dancing—the current song ended with one final, righteous chord.

“Well, well—hello, everyone!” Freddy said, clutching his microphone as he centered himself on stage. His smile was as inexhaustible as his energy—thank god for robotic bodies, for he'd be sweating up a storm if he was human. However, his face remained clear of anything save for his bright expression.

“It seems we have gathered a little crowd tonight for our impromptu performance!” Sparing a glance over his shoulder, he looked to the Glamrocks with his enthusiastic grin. “I think that means we must give our special guests a show they will never forget!”

Bonnie was moving on queue in the sound-booth, centering the stage lights and bringing the colored filters down. At Freddy’s mention of a special performance, Foxy smacked his symbols to rile up the crowd. Cassidy leaned over and shook Hannah by the shoulders, needing something to reflect her excitement off of.

“FOXY’S ON DRUMS!” she gushed. It might be a surprise to many, but Cassidy was once a super-fan of Freddy Fazbear Entertainment. Only after her horrific murder did she begin her smear campaign.

Who could blame her, though?

Recently Cassidy had been a little more optimistic, her mood changing with the freedom from oppression her soul finally felt. Her murderer was gone—body and digital copy of his soul. Cassidy could feel content to enjoy the characters once more.

With Roxy and Foxy leading with a beat and an intro on the keys, the Glamrocks got back into the song line up. For the others, finally getting to see the show that they were robbed of the night they had disappeared had been fulfilling. Cain and Quinn had only stopped dancing briefly, yet Gregory had already worked up a sweat from moshing with the brothers. Despite barely being able to compete with the ghost’s endurance, Gregory kept moving to keep up. The drawbacks to being human still, he supposed—but he supposed he couldn't totally complain.

***

Michael couldn't help himself. With such a rousing performance gracing the Pizzaplex, there was no way he was going to sit in this stuffy office and watch from a tiny monitor. Besides, he needed to do some rounds anyway. This was a performance he didn't think anyone should miss, if they could help it.

First, he stopped by the Daycare. The play area was lit up but Sun was nowhere to be found, meaning that Moon was still watching over a slumbering Sam in the theater. However, as Michael waltzed straight through the wooden doors he saw a few others seated around the little table, partaking in the “tea party” from earlier.

“Oh wow, I didn't get an invite?” Michael griped with a playful roll of his eyes. Charlie had joined in on the fun now, seated between Mari and Ennard—whose disconcerting eyes were tracking Michael intently, of course. “Thanks a lot, guys...”

With Mari distracted by the lecture that Charlie had been in the middle of, Ennard was the first to perk up at Mike’s entrance. Only when Ennard straightened and scooted over at the tiny table, silently inviting Michael to come and sit with them did Mari start bouncing in her seat.

“Hey, Mikey! Are you here to help Charlie?” she asked.

“We're learning how to be human! It’s a lot to take in, if we're honest,” Ennard admitted, though there were noticeable changes in them already. Their speech was less stilted, as though all the personalities in their head finally agreed on who the speaker should be with only one voice box to use.

Either that, or Charlie had made significant progress with her lessons. She put a hand on Ennard’s shoulder and squeezed. Although she wasn’t a huge fan of Ennard, she figured working with them was better than working against the former clown.

“But you’re doing really well,” she encouraged, “The both of you are! Come and sit with us, Mike.”

Mari had already been making strides towards blending in with humans, but Michael was admittedly surprised at how much Ennard seemed to have taken in already. They were still unnerving, of course—though Michael had a feeling their fixed, near-unbroken gaze would stay on him forever. But they did sound a little better...

“Maybe later; I actually came to get you guys,” the guard went on, rolling his eyes at how the lanky android perked up even more. “Yes, that includes you, Ennard. The band’s practicing and I figured you’d all want to see! The kids already formed a mini-mosh pit by the stage.” He spared a glance towards the Daycare theater. “Think Sam would want to come, or should we let him live in dreamland a little longer?”

Mari slammed her palms down to the table, rattling their tea cups and the soda they used for tea. “I’m there! I’ll go get Moon!”

She didn’t wait for an answer. Being quite a fan of music, she jumped up and ran across the tiny table just to leap off it in search of her other friend.

“Everyone’s at a concert? That sounds like fun—I’ve never been to a concert before!” Ennard remarked, standing now and offering Charlie a hand.

When she took the assistance, she gave Ennard’s palm a squeeze. “Oh, it’s fun! You’ll enjoy it for sure.”

Sometimes Charlie felt a little held hostage by Ennard’s affection, though was empathetic towards them as they laced their fingers between hers. Since merging with their friends, Ennard had been very lonely. The more they interacted with everyone, the more acclimated Charlie could see them getting.

“Yeah! Go wake Sammy. I bet he’d love to mosh,” Charlie laughed with Mike, remembering Sammy’s love for concerts well. It was apparent in the theme of the Pizzaplex after all.

“On it—Mari, wait up!” Michael called with a laugh, rushing after the little android as she made a mad dash for the theater. It didn’t take long for them to find Sam snoring away in a fluffy pile of blankets and pillows. Moon was lingering nearby, his red eyes glowing bright in the darkness. By the time Michael reached the group Moon was already nodding enthusiastically at his friend’s request.

“Oh, yes, of course we’d love to see the band play!” the Daycare attendant was replying with a bit of wistfulness in his tone. “I can’t remember the last time we saw a live performance on stage…”

“I’ll wake up Sam, if you want to bring out Sun and meet us by the Daycare entrance,” Michael suggested. “Not that we don’t want to hang out, Moon, but I think it’s too bright for you…”

“It usually is; I don’t mind, ehehe.” Taking Mari’s hand, he led her towards the exit. “See you two in a minute!”

“Sam? Hey, buddy, we’ve got something cool to show you!” Michael said softly as the pair exited, gently judging his old friend’s shoulder. “We’re taking you to see the band up and running!”

Sam was in his perfect little dream world. Charlie found it strange, whenever he wasn't awake that her brother seemed just a little more youthful. The stress of life and everyday business would put lines in his waking face, but this looked more like the young punk that used to hang around her living room, terrorizing her along with Michael... She would gently nudge him along with her friend, getting him to finally sit up and open his eyes.

“Huh? The band's really practicing right now…?” Sam asked, sounding out of it. It made him feel leagues better knowing that they were all still getting along after their reprogramming. “I just need a second to wake up...”

“Charlie?” Michael raised an eyebrow towards his friend, and as one they grabbed Sam under each arm and hoisted him to his feet. After letting him get his bearings, Michael was sure to keep a tight hold on him as they led him out into the Daycare proper.

It’d been so long since the Marionette heard the bands at Freddy's play. Just the thought of standing there, a part of the crowd and not as a separate fixture brought her butterflies. Ennard struggled to keep up with the small android, her energy outmatching their relaxed pace and causing them to bend in an effort to stay attached to her hand.

Michael couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of Mari tugging her two much taller companions along as if they were nothing but air. Ennard was doing pretty well in the new body, all things considered. By the time they reached the stage Sam had been let go, as he'd found the energy to move by himself. The kids were still in an excited huddle, though there seemed to be less moshing going on in favor of just... jumping up and down from sheer joy.

“More guests!” Freddy announced as the group approached. The band was taking a second to reset, making sure all instruments were still in tune and lining up the next batch of songs in their heads. They'd already finished one set, though due to an uproarious cheer for an encore decided to go through a whole second performance just for their special party. At the sight of a very unexpected friend heading towards them, Freddy let out a little gasp and waved. “Sun! Oh, I am so glad you could join us!”

“Me too!” the lanky animatronic responded, practically trembling with excitement. The last time he'd been out of the Daycare for good reasons had been quite a while ago, so this was quite a treat. Usually he was simply too busy during the day to even fathom stepping away, and at night there wasn't much happening to warrant him leaving the comfort of his little rainbow palace. However, with all the new friends he'd made Sun had a feeling he'd be doing a lot more exploring nowadays.

Since those strange malfunctions had been taken care of, Sam would be more than happy to allow Sun a little bit of leeway with where he spent his time while the Daycare was closed. After all, even artificial intelligence needed socialization and new perspectives.

During the brief break, Chica strummed and plucked at her strings quickly to show off for the newbies in the crowd.

“Now it's really a concert!” Roxy exclaimed, her voice picking up on Freddy's microphone while everyone convened. In the crowd, Gregory found Michael and gave his brother a light shove to get his attention.

“Hey!” Gregory huffed, a little sweaty from all his dancing, truly looking the part of an exhausted concert hooligan. “Do you know how to mosh?”

Charlie answered for Michael out of sheer shock. “Do you know who you're talking to? I've never seen another dude take so many flying elbows in the concert pits.”

She laughed, Samuel joining in on the shared memory of the sketchy music festivals that used to travel throughout Utah back in the days.

“Give me a little credit, kid!” Michael griped in mock offense, sidling his way to the front. When he found the perfect place he cupped his hands around his mouth and stared up at the stage, transported back to the happy days when he’d heckle the band for the hell of it.

“Please tell me you’ve got some more 80s classics in that lineup!” he called, and when Freddy turned his gaze upon him it felt like he truly saw the boy Michael used to be. Fresh-faced and eager, Mike would be at the front of the crowd with his best friends, jamming out to rock songs without a care in the world.

“Of course!” Freddy replied, and Michael’s responding smile could rival the sun. Glancing up to the sound booth, Freddy gave their temporary DJ a tentative thumbs-up. “Bonnie, are we ready to go?”

“Ladies and gentlemen, the Pizzaplex is proud to present…” All the way up in the sound booth, Bonnie leaned into a microphone and led up the suspense. Then he brought down the house lights to focus on the stage, queueing Freddy and the band. “The Glamrocks!”

It was easy to get all the kids riled up—even Charlie and Sam seemed ripe with excitable energy as they crowded around the front with the kids. Thus ensued the best concert that Charlie had ever seen at a Fazbear venue. The lineup were classics, songs that Charlie forgot she’d obsessed over back in the day, now here to be stuck in Gregory’s head for weeks at a time—just the way his adoptive siblings suffered after shows.

Tonight served to be Gregory’s first real concert, and he’d been glad to spend time with all the friends he made so far. Besides, how many people could brag that their dad was in a popular band?

***

Freddy didn’t want this show to end. But, as he was far too familiar with, all good things eventually came to a close. Much too soon the band was striking the final cord, and Freddy slid to the front of the stage on his knees like the rockstar he was meant to be, mic held high over his head as he belted out the last note of their epic performance. As his vocals faded, the stage lights were shut off briefly. Backed by the rousing cheer of the crowd, Freddy stood and ushered his bandmates—his wonderful, wonderful friends—to the front of the stage with him. When the lights came back on they were poised to take their bow.

“Thank you for coming out tonight!” Freddy yelled to the crowd, smiling so wide it hurt. “And, from the bottom of my heart—” His gaze drifted over the crowd to settle on Gregory, Michael, Charlie, and Sam in turn. “—thank you for everything!”

With the most dramatic of flairs, Bonnie directed the softer beams of light to the family in front. They illuminated Charlie, who’d been holding a tired Gregory up. The kid battling to enjoy the last of his dad’s show raised his fist in solidarity as Charlie jostled him by jumping at Freddy’s thanks. With Michael and Sam beside her still completely jazzed from the concert, the ghost kids from the crowd roared into applause. There was a few excitable strums from Chica, Foxy hitting his symbols as his ego inflated from the wild screaming coming from their small audience.

“You’ve been a great crowd!” Roxy shouted before Bonnie turned down the stage lights, now lifting the house ones again.

Ennard’s first concert was spent hanging around Evan and most of the kids. Surprisingly enough, Elizabeth was compliant to their presence today—though they wouldn’t want to overstay their welcome and ruin the vibe that was going on. Near the back of the crowd, it was easy for Ennard to rejoin Mari and Sun as soon as the lights flicked back on.

“That was a doozy of a show, Fredbear! You still got it!” Bonnie called with a surprised laugh from the sound booth before beginning his descent back down to the stage.

“Thank you, Bon!” Freddy called with a grateful wave, hopping off stage with the others. Feeling an exhilaration he didn’t know was possible, he made a beeline straight for his family and immediately scooped Gregory into his arms. Still wearing an inexhaustible grin, Freddy murmured in his tired son’s ear: “What did you think, superstar?!”

Gregory perked up like a freshly watered flower once Freddy got ahold of him. With arms squeezed tight around his dad’s shoulders, he exclaimed: “You’re amazing!”

Once again, Freddy proved exactly why he was Gregory’s favorite character out of the Glamrocks. Was it possible to be starstruck by family? Gregory wasn’t sure, but if so that’s definitely what he was feeling. To get rid of the irrational butterflies, he joked: “Could I get your autograph, Mister Fazbear?”

While the other kids were enamored with the Glamrocks, Evan had his eye on a different set of robots. Michael saw his brother start moving towards the trio hanging back, and after giving Freddy’s shoulder a firm squeeze and reiterating how amazing the band was, Michael trailed after him.

“I’m glad Mikey grabbed you guys in time!” the little ghost said brightly, grabbing one of Mari’s and Ennard’s hands without hesitation. Now that Ennard looked more presentable, Evan had no fear expressing his favor of the robot’s company. Lightly swinging their arms, Evan remarked: “That was like… the coolest show ever!”

Evan having sought out both Ennard and Mari brought huge grins to their faces. While Mari’s wild hair suggested she was head-banging nearly the whole show, Ennard still looked fairly pristine. They gently squeezed Evan’s hand and agreed: “I’ve never seen a show quite like it! Even Funtime Foxy couldn’t compete…”

“I kinda wish I’d been able to see one of your old shows,” Evan admitted, and he meant it—aside from the whole “potential for children to get captured after the performance” thing, of course. Keeping this in the back of his mind, Evan tugged Ennard more insistently to keep their attention. “But you look awesome now! And I bet you could still perform if you wanted to.”

“You’ve still got the programming in there,” Michael remarked with a shrug. Admittedly, he already felt much better letting Ennard interact with people in this new form. “Who knows, maybe Sam can find you a little stage and you could… do magic tricks or something.”

He was trying, at least. They had to give him credit for that.

“Ooh, yeah!” Evan agreed, jumping on the idea. “And Mari can be your assistant!”

Ennard cast the optimistic ghosts a sideways grin. In this new body, they were becoming more confident again. As a whole, finally, the amalgamation felt like they came to an agreement.

“A magician? Me?” They laughed scratching the back of their head at Sun’s compliment. “I guess I can do a lot of things I couldn’t before, huh?”

The possibilities of this new lease on life seemed endless now. With their terrible creator gone, things were looking so much brighter. But then they caught something from the corner of their eye: the familiar shade of Elizabeth looming just far enough away. She didn’t look quite ready to join them with Ennard around.

She couldn’t be angry with them; not right now. She could tell Ennard and her brothers were having fun without her. Defeated, Lizzie turned from the group and pretended to be interested in the way the band packed up the equipment on the stage.

“Deal—” Mari agreed with a peal of bell-like laughter at the thought of being Ennard’s assistant. “—just promise not to really saw me in half! Okay?”

“Oh, they won’t,” Michael both assured and warned with narrowed eyes.

While Michael bonded with his sibling and friends, Monty had noticed Liz meandering over to his side of the stage. Slinging his guitar off for a moment, he crouched down to her level with a wide grin.

“Hey, lil’ lady!” he greeted, tail swaying across the floor with the aftershocks of their enthusiastic performance. “Sooo what’d you think?! Best show you’ve ever seen, right?”

Across the floor, Freddy was finalizing plans with Sam and the others.

“So Gregory and I will stop by your office first thing tomorrow night so we can port over my old profile,” he reiterated to make sure everyone was on the same page. “That way, Freddy can have as much time as possible for a ‘test run…' Does that work for you, superstar?” He glanced down at his son still held loosely in his arms. “You can play with your friends the rest of the night after we complete this task.”

“I'd appreciate it if Freddy 2.0 could run a rudimentary scan on Gregory, too,” Sam interjected. “Just to make sure all his systems are working fine! He’s been offline for a while, after all.”

Sam glanced to Gregory, looking for the okay from the young ward of the Pizzaplex. The boy shrugged, knowing he’d already be helping with the data transfer. It wouldn’t be any trouble to hang around new Freddy and make sure all his child safety features worked.

“That’s fine with me, Sammy,” he confirmed. Then, a bit more shyly, Gregory asked: “So… The Pizzaplex is going to be full of people again soon?”

Sam looked a little surprised. Reading Gregory’s expression made him think the kid was hoping to have the place all to himself for a little while longer. If only Sam could do that for him. But there were bills to pay, parties to throw… Sam couldn’t hold off on his investments anymore.

“Of course. The show has to go on, doesn’t it?” he replied with a gentle understanding. “You still get unlimited access, Gregory. But think of all the friends you’ll make here!”

“Friends can be made at your own pace,” Freddy reassured, seeing the anxiety wash over Gregory’s face like a wave. “But I must admit, it will be wonderful to have the Pizzaplex back in action.”

It’d been far too long since Freddy was able to enjoy his “job” without worrying what was going to happen to his friends when 12 am hit. And with Bonnie back in commission now, as well as the addition of everyone’s favorite pirate fox, the reopening was sure to be a roaring success.

“Hey guys,” Michael said as he stepped over to his little family unit. With a smile, he slung his arms around Charlie and Sammy’s shoulders. “You plotting stuff without me again?”

“Dang, just when we thought that we got rid of you,” Sam remarked with a roll of his eyes, the remnants of his sarcastic teenage self-shining through as he ran off the nostalgic high.

Charlie laughed at her brother's joke, resting her head against Mike's shoulder with a playful lilt in her voice. “Don't worry Mike, we totally weren't planning on pushing you in the hotel pool later.”

“Oh, fantastic,” Michael griped with a roll of his eyes, then looked to the redhead imploringly. “At least you’re on my side, right, Freddy? You wouldn’t let them plot against me, would you?”

“…I cannot say one way or the other,” Freddy replied cryptically, a playful smile twitching up the corners of his mouth.

“Oh my god…” Michael pressed his hands to the side of his face in mock horror. “I can’t believe they already corrupted you—poor, innocent Fredbear…”

Freddy chuckled and gave Mike’s hair an amiable ruffle. They all knew full well Michael could take a good prank as well as he could dish one out.

“Anyway—” the guard checked his phone before looking to Sam. “—my shift’s almost over, boss-man. Need anything else before I close up for the night?”

Sam relaxed an arm around Michael's shoulder as his friend spoke. Anything that Sam needed could wait until tomorrow; Gregory certainly looked about ready to go back to the hotel for some shut-eye.

“Just do me a favor and get home safe, alright?” Sam asked. “Text me when you get to the hotel. And maybe after your first paychecks we'll see about getting you guys a real place to stay…”

While rent could be plenty expensive, it certainly wasn't as expensive as the nightly room service charges Sam had been getting.

“We'll definitely text you,” Charlie agreed, eyes widening at the prospect of their little family getting a place of their own. She reached over, quickly hugging her brother with a caring grip around his back and squishing Michael in the embrace by proxy. “Get some sleep before opening, please.”

“Thank you, Sam,” Freddy said as he leaned himself and Gregory into the hug as well.

“Oof—yeah, you’re a real lifesaver when you aren’t crushing me!” Mike remarked, trying to wriggle free. After a moment he was granted a chance to escape, which he’d use to walk to the stage and call up: “Hey everyone, we’re heading out for the night! Say your goodbyes now before Gregory passes out!”

After basking in the attentions of the Glamrocks, Liz stood to the edge of the stage and waved goodbye to Gregory along with the band, who waved and blew kisses to their adoring audience with a dramatic flair. Before the other kids could convince them to do an encore, they came over one by one wishing them a good morning and that they’d all see Gregory and his family tomorrow. Ennard came by to gently pat Gregory’s hair, lifting Mari up to say her own personal goodbyes.

Gregory had once been hard-pressed once to let the animatronics and others wrangle him into hugs—now he’d progressed to the point of allowing the Marionette to nuzzle the side of his head with affection. Farewells complete, they begun for their egress of the building. The sound of that hotel bed was calling his name, and Gregory could no longer refuse sleep as he quietly fell unconscious in Freddy’s arms once more. Another successful, fun night well-spent.

***

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wordsandsound14 · 3 years

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Switchfoot albums ranked (not including interrobang)

I've been thinking about this a lot too recently. Ik I'm late to the party on this one but I don't get on reddit often. Only got on since the band did the ama. I won't include interrobang since it's so new and ranking it seems difficult. (worst to best)

11. Learning to Breathe - While this record has some of the best written songs (Learning to Breathe, The Loser, Love is the Movement), it also has some of my least favorites (Poparazzi, Innocence Again, Living is Simple). I often just find myself bored with this album and disappointed. There are plenty of dipping of toes in ideas and then abandoning them. For instance, the beginning of Erosion is such a cool unique sound and then it's abandoned for the rest of the song. The themes of this album are also really boring to me, even when I was a christian. I just found it wasn't taking a unique perspective or doing anything different with its themes when they have done so before.

10. Where the Light Shines Through - I feel this was the band when they were the most uninspired. It feels like it was trying to sell itself to the CCM crowd and make some waves there since it's been the most consistent place of making waves and it still didn't do that. Don't get me wrong, there are great songs here (If the House Burns Down Tonight, Float, Holy Water). The first half of this album is super good. It's that back half that feels like an axe to the first half. Every song on the back half has something that disappoints me. And I'm fine with christian themes and all but it felt like this album had more just praise songs vs the questioning of faith. Would've been a great EP and it kinda made sense that they went into hiatus after this album. I also feel that the themes of the album didn't really make it to it. Jon talked about how he was in a some struggle and storm before the album and then by the time they got recording it more so became an album after the storm. And I just wonder what was going on. Cause there's only small hints. I can only feel that an album that actually talked about that or coming out of the storm would've worked but we got way after the storm and leaving a lot of good inspiration behind in a ball of mystery that we still don't know about. I don't need to know every information that he went through but the songs got effected by it.

9. New Way to be Human - I think what holds this album down the most is it's lack of direction. I can feel them trying to tackle all of their ideas from folk to pop to indie while maintaining their identity. I just don't feel these ideas get fully fleshed out. But these songs are really well written and the philosophy bleeding into these tracks and ending up being a basis of many future songs can all be tracked back to this album. This album is just a very specific listen so I don't often turn to this album. I do think Something More is the most overlooked song, with Amy's song being a close second. I also think Incomplete is a just a better version of I Turn Everything Over so it feels like a repeat track. But I really appreciate what this record represents in their career and see it as a stepping stone of sorts. (Company Car is one of their best earlier works)

8. Native Tongue - Seems a lot of people have very different feelings about this work. I think the biggest thing that makes Native Tongue feel distinct is that it feels like a Jon Foreman project with Switchfoot. Like Jon was the only one who couldn't stay away from the studio and was calling the other members. They came and were happy to but it was Jon with the initiative. At least, it's how it sounds to me. A lot of these ideas are incomplete. But when they aren't, they hit really well (Native Tongue, Dig New Streams, Oxygen). And the amount of trying different things! Granted a lot of ideas of modern production ideas but I'm glad they happened. But some I'm not too fond of (Joy Invisible, Wonderful Feeling, The Strength To Let Go). I feel this album also really fell short without a good producer. It's not the production value that doesn't work but Switchfoot works best when there is a producer there that works with them and pushes them. I fell they could have been better but it also has some solid songs in here.

7. Legend of Chin - This is one of the most fun Switchfoot records but has such a distinct sound and charm to it. I understand that a lot of songs are about girls that Jon doesn't even know any more but there isn't a bad song on here. It's all just fun from 3 guys jamming in a room. I used to not like the closing track but it's grown on me and I crave that sound more and more. Some standout tracks are Home, Chem 6A, You. With Underwater being a super creative song. I don't have a ton to say other than this is root Switchfoot and their cores are on display here.

6. Fading West - I feel this is their most misunderstood record. The struggle this album went through is tremendous. Take the two best things Switchfoot is known for and strip them away and they still make a record worth listening too imo. It's not their best but it's really ambitious, even if accidental. Originally, they were going to only strip the guitars away but when you listen to the story of Fading West, going on a journey to feel inspired. There are plenty of lines hinting that Jon was having writer's block (blood clot pen). It does mean the lyrics suffered some here but I don't think they suffered a ton. They achieved the california surf music. However, I do think they missed a huge part that I feel the fans were wanting. It's the sound that's on the ep. It's the one we were advertised and didn't receive on the album. I would loved if the album had the sound of Edge of the Earth (the song). But I really appreciate the risk cause it's a huge one. (stand out tracks: Love Alone Is Worth the Fight, BA55, Slipping Away).

5. Vice Verses - This was the best they have ever been as musicians (you could argue this for Oh Gravity too tho). But the amount of pushing their musical talent is very apparent on this album. The bass lines and drum rhythms are amazing. The only songs I'm kinda eh about are Rise Above It (still has great production and energy) and The Original (still has amazing bass and guitar parts). This album does have a weird issue with the lyrics either hitting really deep parts of your heart or being a very vague or simple line. The production is also the best imo and everything is layered super well. The only production that I disagree on is on Where I Belong (the digital claps for why and some parts sounding a little inconsistent with the rest of the album). But the choices in the sounds of the guitars and genre jumps and the grunge. Still lacking in some areas but still a solid record. (Holds my favorite Switchfoot song Thrive)

4. Oh! Gravity. - Oh yes, the golden era as I call it. I pin this album as the core Switchfoot sound. If you want to hear what Switchfoot sounds like, this album nails it. Guitars, fun, great lyrics, and musical variety. I don't have much words like I did for Chin. It's a pretty simple album to digest and it's the quickest made one (from what i'm aware of) and it shows but in the best way possible. It's also only made better by the podcast series they made. The only things that hold this album down a bit is American Dream and Burn Out Bright being repeat tracks of another (American Dream being the better one) and the double edged sword of it being simple when surrounded by high effort long works that are beyond exceptional.

3. The Beautiful Letdown - The Classic Foot album that defined their careers. It's not a joke tho that everything went up a whole level with this album. Something clicked in Jon's head that turned out some of his best lyrics and the song formats and sound just grew a ton. Jerome being an essential new member. And only one song that's a little meh (Redemption) and even the meh song is still catchy. Overexposure might be why it's not higher but I feel I have more reasons being that it does sound dated. Most of the time for better but a little for worse. I also feel that if Drew was a part of this album, it would be up a another level also. There's just a slight amount of incompleteness to this record. Not sure exactly but regardless the songwriting on this album is amazing and the questions and the way they are asked remain timeless.

2. Nothing is Sound - Grunge at its best here. I'm still not certain what Jon was going through here other than what the lyrics mention but whatever he was feeling hits hard. It resonates so much. To this day, these songs hold my throat. Not a bad song on here. It's a really good album that only gets beat by it's production value. Some songs could've been produced better (ironically Jon mentioned that recently too lol). Golden, The Setting Sun, and We Are Young Tonight are the forefront of those. And it's not like they are terribly produced but they are missing a little from what they could be. But literally it. Front to back, this record just rocks while wallowing in despair from the fallen world and the loneliness and helplessness it brings. It also represents a huge decision on what to do after a breakout record and is one of the best records after a band reached public success.

1. Hello Hurricane - The whole sound of this record is the most complete the band has ever sounded to me. The writing on this album is so great. Not one song is a waste and process this album went through is amazing. I get that they can't (prob shouldn't) do this process but damn was it worth it. This project sounds so complete and so organically made, even with two songs that I feel could have been switched out. (Always isn't my favorite but I may having it be a song for a past relationship. But it also does still have a lot of raw emotion in it that I appreciate and can get past my own perceptions. It's the lesser of the offense. Free is the other one only cause it kinda is booty in studio. It's live version makes ya wish it was that way on the record). But i adore these lyrics and I love the sounds they used without washing it up with production but still using production (Sing it Out) as a tool. It's so good and I love this album so much

quick review of interrobang is that it’s a very solid record and I love the sound of it so far. It doesn’t take my top record but it’s an insanely catchy album with a lot of listens in the future. I’d probably rank it as 2 or 3. Not sure if it’s above or below nothing is sound. but really give it a listen. It’s exactly what i’ve been wanting from the band for so long

#switchfoot #music #ranked #list #rock music #alternative music #pop rock #Interrobang

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404fmdhaon · 4 years

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creative claims — artist

summary: goofing around with his pal siwoo (npc), and this song comes as a collab of some sorts. warnings: wc: 1236

bc’s never felt like home, not then. not now. nine years strapped inside the riptide of a company that soothes itself as suffocating than the oxygen he craves, it’s times when he’s trapped inside some half-basement apartment with an old friend that suddenly, life no longer bears and burdens but instead relieves itself as an escape.

an escape from home, this becomes a taste of oasis.

the bpm yanked high, on overdrive. he’s set the basis of the upbeat funk that comes from skewed filters and the off-beat set of the snares that become the upbeat emphasis of a beat. no moody colors, it’s bright, nearly orange the way the room’s lit with a disco ball flare and the drunken laughter that fills the void between them.

“this sounds like a track to nintendo, fuck.” gyujeong barely musters out in between the short breaths of his chuckles. siwoo’s already on the keys, an electronic brand touch signature to his style — it all mixes into an off-put disoriented mix of elevator music and groove, tinged with hints of jazz.

“if we add a layer of saxophones, you think anyone would listen to this fuckin mess?” the good vibes are infectious, a bellowing burst of half-drunk laughter that slaps back at him.

“i don’t know, try it.” gyujeong juts his chin forward, hands reaching for a flask that hinges on empty. what he gets out, is the last swift gulp of bitter soju — a flask of soju, hapless in how the divide in their lifestyles match up after all these years.

the room fills with a hit of saxophones, harmonious in how siwoo manages to blend it together right on beat in line with the rest. a jangled image now comes clear, sharpens itself into something poppy, jazzy. a contradiction that poises itself as manageable — maybe, it’s just the alcohol talking.

“add a spin to it, a retro drive. you know? one of those things that distorts the beat into a shift for when you have a change into another verse. a build up, before you draw it back to the chorus.” hands pressed behind his head, inspiration dawns when his spine eases into his chair, and when he’s no longer fixated and held against a wall with a knife that bc wields together.

the beat’s enough to get him off his seat, bouncing on the soles of his feet — there’s a bend in his knees as he swipes away a pair of shit sunglasses hung on the wall. it’s the effect of siwoo, not just any company. a musical soulmate enticing the two when they were nothing more than two kids sharing the same cup of ramen inside the corner seven eleven. and now goes, where one of them remains in the same basement apartment while he’s left to sell out inside the luxury of hannam.

“you look fucking stupid, you know that?” siwoo’s voice is bright despite the pricked edges of his words and dismissive shakes of his head, but the grin perched across his face gives otherwise. “you know — let’s just record this shit? lyrics about artistry, being artist.”

“you add saxophone on one song and you think you’re picasso or some shit?”

“yeah because we are, we are, we artist baby.”

the phrase has a ring, and the grittiness of gyujeong’s own voice echoes it loud. but they work in sync, like clockwork the way siwoo already manages to hit red to record the spews of drunken slurs.

a person who is bored and about to die, a man that never is a man. who dares to shave only to make a rash? people who are going to shatter very much, oh yes

it’s rapid fire, a makeshift freestyle that skips past logical ties. instead, he pins it down to ease — the blurbs of words mangled. carefree, weightless. it’s how music should be, he thinks. the feeling of bouncing, a skip in his feet. the shattered disillusions of struggles fled from his shoulders, rounded about in how he carries the world by storm. invincibility comes when he’s one cup too deep in soju, floating to the ripples of slipshod beats hoping to make a subtle move.

and it sees it easy — the art of no longer giving a fuck. no longer tied and beaten, or drowning the woes of misery no longer there. the thoughts no longer clouding his head in a moment of invincibility, there’s a new world he crafts together painting the boundaries. it’s a house of mirrors, no boundaries — eternity that spans the dangerous taste of feeling limitless.

don’t think about it too much, you hold the brush you have the best feeling in front of his house mirror

“life is short, art is long — we are, we artist babey” siwoo’s voice yells past the blaring speakers. the reaction of laughter is instantaneous in how gyu hugs his stomach, crouching over at the melodious ring the notion has. artist, sellout — life is short, art is long. irony makes him laugh and he’s been in the game far too long to dispose this as a trash take of something headed straight towards the bin of beats done and gone.

by the time he’s back on his two feet, laughter subsided, gyu’s back onto the chair that swallows his body, reeling it back in. the mic out and yanked in front of his face, it’s a silent gesture that spurs his own hand reaching for the headset on the desk.

he clears his voice, a grumble of his throat loosening for the lyrics siwoo’s managed to type up. incoherent spellings, yet it’s enough to get the gist — the surface level that memory takes over when he hears the clicks of the metronome cue. prep. set him in place for the reel in to seriousness that seizes the formalities of creating something useable.

“be the pretentious dick i know you are.” instructions call out from the production seat, siwoo’s dictation he knows far too well. “you know? the whole what the fuck mood — i want you to rap it like that.”

a nod of his head, and he goes through the first verse. there’s a lightness, a nonchalance to his diction. the deadly stares of high above you tides humanizing itself into his voice, latching on to each and every syllable of the dynamic tone. no longer a grittiness, instead the chest heavy voice pulls into the lines spoken — a billowing open voice loud enough to seep to the family living a floor above.

gyujeong continues, lets what comes natural. innate take over — no second guessing, or over analysis in caution of how others perceive. it’s freedom floating letting the facets of his persona uncovered with no expectations as to who’s to witness it. here, there are no victims, only witnesses to the chung gyujeong he’s sealed and kept away.

but this stays in the confines of siwoo’s place, and gyu would be damned if a solo came across the horizon anytime soon — wishful thinking, and he’s abandoned that shit a long time ago.

instead, this becomes the flashback into his taste of what drew him into the scene. the taste of love when he feels the beat hit a notch into a special place he’s pocketed in his mind — music stripped away as an occupation, and what remains is the highs of music as a hobby. a first love.

“fuck man, i forgot what it feels to make music like this.” an afterthought that escapes without thought, and tonight becomes the first instance where he’s found the novel feeling again. bursts of honesty and creativity, jams upon smashed notes and bashed heads — fuck it if bc doesn’t care, it’s a line he draws for himself. one as a personal saving win.

#fmdverification #속마음 — 셀프 #i hate pending verifications so im getting it all done now ~_~

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thesuper17 · 6 years

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On her fourth record, Ariana Grande locates a stylistic intersection within pop where she's not only comfortable, but masterful. sweetener is an album which carefully sidesteps direct reference to the infernal state of the world in 2018, and in the process, cements itself as one of the year's most important releases.

It's easy to approach Grande with a cynical predisposition. A product of the Disney machine, the sceptical listener may consider this impossibly flawless 25 year old an advertisement more than an authentic artist. The cynicism isn't entirely meritless either.

Grande has been an international A-list celebrity since the age of 17, and embodies an almost idealized version of how a woman 'ought' to look. She can be seen applying makeup in several music videos, and along with a physically unattainable body type for the vast majority of women, it is difficult to think of a better subconscious sales pitch for the beauty industry and the fitness/wellness industry, or a better symbol of Disney's homogenous and sanitized dominion over popular culture.

And yet. When she speaks, passionate to the point of tears, on mental health, or when she emphatically praises her fans, or when she opens her mouth and that angelic voice pours out, cynicism is rendered petty and dull. Grande is loudly supportive of and incredibly popular within the queer community. It's not uncommon to see fans, boys and girls, plastering Twitter and Tumblr with selfies, vocally expressing both self-love and gratitude towards Grande for helping them find it.

This too will be observed cynically, a ploy to cast as wide a net as possible and exploit the insecurity of a young fanbase, but ultimately the impact is what matters*. One of the world's most aspirational celebrities actively embraces her marginalised fans and lets them know: you're loved, you matter. - Enter sweetener, the fourth and most deliberately crafted record of the Floridian's career. More so than any of her output prior, this album reflects back the kaleidoscopic array of influences Grande has absorbed to develop her own unique voice. It is also an album that feels miraculously unburdened by both the cultural and musical obligations female pop stars are typically subject to.

The overt sensuality that characterised Dangerous Woman placed it within a lineage of releases (see: Stripped, Good Girl Gone Bad), wherein the previously innocent girl proves herself an actively sexual woman. sweetener, while far from being sanitized, nevertheless largely forgoes the explicit in favour of the poetic.

There is no value judgement (or indeed a clear dividing line) to be drawn between themes of romance and sexuality, but it's gratifying to hear Grande carve out an individual space where she feels free to shrug off pre-determined archetypes.

This freedom extends to the sound of sweetener. A true A-list pop star, Grande is able to enlist the highest profile of talent in the studio, an advantage she exploits to the fullest, listing production credits from Pharrell Williams, Max Martin and Ilya Salmanzadeh (among others) and performances from Nicki Minaj and Missy Elliott. This affords Grande a stylistic and sonic flexibility that simultaneously presents the album its first major challenge. It’s not enough for Grande to simply demonstrate a wide ranging taste, she needs to convincingly sell sweetener as a cohesive project of her own design, one where she has determined the direction and executed it successfully. And, for the vast majority of the album's runtime, Grande is more than up to the task, an expert vocalist at the top of her game not merely justifying, but necessitating an album of sweetener's length and breadth.

In a recent interview, Grande stated that while she loves pop, her 'heart and soul is more in R&B', and the addition of Pharrell Williams on production gives her ample opportunity to indulge this aspect of her sound. Early highlight 'R.E.M' is a simple but shimmering track, floating along at a relaxed tempo and layered with gorgeous doo-wop harmonies and backing vocals. The smooth, almost minimalist instrumental marks the first instance of a recurring device on the album in the use of breathing sounds as percussion. This isn’t a brand new idea (Kanye West's 'Black Skinhead' used this trick in 2013), but it's utilized especially deftly here, evoking carefree sensuality without obviously pushing it to the foreground.

With the exception of a disappointingly phoned-in feature from Missy Elliott, 'borderline' is another stand out. The synths and beats are much fiercer here, with unpredictable and busy hi-hats accompanying the jazz-inflected harmony of the four main chords, repeated throughout. Grande is still comfortably within her range, delivering lines almost in neutral tones, and as the melodies cycle and repeat, they develop a seductive, hypnotic cadence.

Elsewhere, a more traditional pop voice emerges. 'breathin', an obvious successor to Dangerous Woman's bombastic 'Into You', blurs the line between 80s homage and pastiche, complete with a flamboyant synth solo. In a demonstration of Grande's understanding, both of genre conventions and her own strengths, the song's slow build pre-choruses end in a pregnant pause, clearly designed with the powerful and dexterous high runs she's known for in mind. For its final chorus, the deep breath prior to Grande's upper-register lead vocal is even included in the recording, setting up one of the album's most cathartic, fun moments.

sweetener isn't strictly bifurcated into R&B and pop though. Grande proves herself able to fluidly incorporate forms of those genres and others besides, frequently within the same song. In tradition and lineage, the gospel choir balladry on the enormous hook of 'god is a woman', backed with wide and arpeggiated electric guitar chords, couldn't be further from the pseudo-rapped triplets of its pre-chorus. But somehow, the building pace of the verse collapses into the chorus' held first note in a naturalistic way that never feels stylistically disjointed. Even hints of Grande's time in musical theatre appear on the joyous, sweeping melody of title track 'sweetener' and its bold grand piano accompaniment. The pivot on this track into a trap-style hook is handled less gracefully however, with strange lyrics skirting the edge of comedy.

A sparse few songs across the album feel as though they could have been left out to produce a leaner, more consistent overall project. Regretfully, as the first track proper of the album, 'blazed' disappoints a little. The song is bouncy and fun, and its three-piece of keys, bass and drums builds into a classic Pharrell momentum (bringing to mind 2014's 'Happy'), but this is also the track's weakness. Where, on the remainder of the album, individual facets of Grande’s style are emphasised and supplemented by the production, Pharrell's voice (figuratively and literally) dominates 'blazed' in a way that relegates Grande to a more textural role.

Especially in preceding the excellent 'breathin', 'everytime' is another such track, listenable and enjoyable, but compositionally dry by the standards the album sets elsewhere. Even here though, Grande's aspirational radiance shines through. The track's lead vocal recording is left running after the final chorus and the listener hears her laugh, maybe in the relief of hitting the track's astoundingly high final notes, maybe for any other reason. The laugh is one of many smaller production touches on the album that help to elevate it above more standard fare, but it's also illustrative of sweetener's value as a piece of culture.

Another easy route to cynicism over Grande (and pop music in general) is the notion she prioritises aesthetics over substance. Aside from being demonstrably incorrect**, the argument is reductionist and binary in a way that obfuscates the actual value of albums like sweetener. Here, aesthetic is substance. This ostensibly carefree, joy-filled music is the product of addressing and reworking real pain, and its promulgation to mass market reminds the audience of something increasingly easy to forget. No matter how bad things get, we can always make them sweet again.

*here your reviewer emphasises the vitality of criticism towards misogynistic standards women are held to, and concedes that Grande is a part of the culture which upholds those standards. Nevertheless, criticism towards Grande the individual on this basis feels much more often representative of a sneering dislike towards girls and the things they enjoy, than a case against the structures behind them.

** the work required to reach Grande's level of proficiency in vocal performance alone, let alone her musicality, composition and choreography far outstrip the, still considerable, effort required to maintain her appearance. although, for that matter, why one is considered so much more valuable than the other, and why women are critiqued so much more viciously in this avenue than men is reflective of structural issues probably outside the scope of an album review no one will ever read

#this #is #a #great #album #give #it #a listen #please #thanks #pop #ariana #grande #ariana grande #sweetener #review #sweetener review #dangerous woman #my everything

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jackgivesmarkmusic-blog · 7 years

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Hi, Mark. Let’s start with a little Joni Mitchell 101. There are three things that make her music the masterwork that it is: lyrics, musical composition, and that voice. It should be noted, however, that the magic is often in the intersection of these three components, not just in their strengths alone. Lyrically, there is one person that has ever lived that is better and his name is Bob Dylan. Depending on what I had for breakfast that day, I might say that the order is reversed. Lyrics are her ultimate weapon. It is clearly the craft she mastered and it seems she knows it. The other two components, while remarkable in their own right, pale in comparison. Chick’s a freak. We’ll mostly be discussing her lyrics in the posts to come, so I’m not going to get into why they are great just yet. We’ll do that on a song by song basis. The two components we’re not going to talk about so much are her musical composition and her voice. I’m going to quickly cover these now and I’ll be sure to mention noteworthy items in the songs to come. Let’s start with the music. We’re not talking about some standard singer songwriter strumming away four to five chord progressions (not that this is a bad thing). Neither are we talking about some avant-garde, “look at what I’m doing with my music” bullshit (this is a bad thing). We are talking about tasteful exploration. The guitar playing is almost always interesting. Never too straightforward, never too complex; like she wrote it because it was fun for her. The musical accompaniment is sometimes so welcoming that you forget how strange it might be. Her choices are intriguing, they let us use our imaginations in a practical way rather than an unfocused one. If I had to describe the “mood” or “feel” of her music, I’d just say “Home”. Her music is built for homes. Wherever you may be living, Joni will make you feel like you are really there. We all have songs we grew up with. Songs our friends and family played in our homes while we cooked dinner or had guests over. They burrow their way into our subconscious. We hear them now and we get a jolt of nostalgia. It’s like we can once again touch one of the pillars that made our homes our homes. We never listened to Joni Mitchell in my house growing up and I still get this feeling. No other artist has ever imprinted themselves on that pillar since I left my childhood years. Somehow, she has. Her voice is her voice, Mark. It is what it is. It’s one the most piercingly beautiful voices you’ll ever hear. It’s pure, it’s direct, it’s reserved, it’s calculated, it’s surprising. She’s a songbird. Alright, finally that’s done. Let’s talk “Barangrill”. I chose this one for two reasons. First, it is one of my favorite songs by her. Second, it sort of touches upon the “mundane life” conversation we had in the car on Sunday. Right off the bat you’re going to hear the distinct musical choices. Lyrics aside, this song is cool. No two ways about it. The horns, the high flute, the almost bluesy riff on the guitar that then dives into a beautiful, rich refrain. It’s got that whimsical quality that makes us think we’re in an episode of Little Bear or something (and if I’m thinking Little Bear, I’m always thinking home). Let’s set the scene. Joni is rich and famous. She’s at a roadside café presumably while on tour. She’s feeling out of touch. She sees the waitresses bullshitting and can’t help but think their life is the real life. That because they don’t have as much “choice” as she does, that they are somehow a part of the real human condition. They’re not anxious. They’re not worried. They’re in some sort of zone and she seems to just be floating around above it, not connected to anything. They must know something she doesn’t. Or she knows something they don’t. Then she laughs, and realizes she’s being ridiculous. This waitress is probably just “thinking about her boyfriend” or the order of eggs she has to put into the kitchen. She realizes that she’s being condescending, but she can’t help it. This is Joni’s mastery at work. This a complex thing to convey in a song without jamming it down the listener’s throat. We’ve all been here. I’ve definitely thought that “humble makes pure” before. That somehow the simple man is in on the real thing, but he doesn’t know it. But I know he doesn’t know. So where does that put me? At some elitist vantage point that he wouldn’t even understand? How arrogant is that? Some people have theorized that “Barangrill” is an allusion to food and water, the two things we need to survive. The basic, simple things needed for life. Some people are “slaves” to the simplicity of life. Some step outside of it and are able to see it for what it is. Maybe you’ll long for it, maybe you’ll think you’re above it, maybe both, but once you’re out, there’s no going back. She realizes that she’s confused, but has also taken something away from her experience here. She’s learned something, but she never tells you what. You’d have to infer that she’s learned a little something about herself and her place in the world. I think most of us would be ok walking away with that. Until next time. Love, Jack

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trippinglynet · 6 years

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Mapping Psychedelia’s Big Pop Culture Moment

Acid On Me Like the Rain: Mapping Psychedelia’s Big Pop Culture Moment

Ryan Bassil

Jun 26 2018, 5:00am

Frank Ocean, Kacey Musgraves, and Kanye West's tripped-out experiences suggest hallucinogens are infiltrating an anxious generation as the Xanax era ends.

For those who don’t have a vested interest in psychedelics and/or men who exist primarily in black-and-white photographs, let me introduce Timothy Leary. Back in the 50s, the psychologist and writer was primarily responsible for two things: a) the phrase “Turn on, tune in and drop out” and b) fiercely advocating for and conducting research into the mainstream therapeutic qualities of psychedelics.

As part of his research into consciousness, Leary developed a five-level scale to assess the intensity of different psychedelic experiences. The first is a mild sensory high—the kind you’ll recognize if you’ve ever gormlessly peered into a fridge at three in the morning popping olive-after-gorgeous-olive into your mouth. The second is a little more intense: your thought process becomes deep and abstract, perhaps debating whether or not cats are spies sent by ancient aliens.

The third, however, is where things get interesting. Words hardly do this level justice, and more often tend to fall into the language of cliché—as I did, recounting a high-dosage mushroom trip to friends a few weeks ago. To summarize: “the colors were composing to create a whole,” geometric Flower of Life patterns took over my visual field and peaceful sadness leaked from my eyes as I listened to Frank Ocean’s Blonde, every note on the record synergizing with the wholesomeness of reality filtered through a heightened empathy. Or something like that: *upside down emoji face*.

Released in 2016, Blonde floats on the fumes of a growing cultural resurgence in psychedelics—an idea given credence by the release of several pieces of work this year. For proof, look to Kanye West’s ye, Kacey Musgraves’ colorful yet country-influenced Golden Hour, the pulsating holistic ambience of Jon Hopkins's Singularity, the op-art visualizers for Beach House's new album, and two books—Trip, the first non-fiction work from the once amphetamine-addled Tao Lin; andHow to Change Your Mind, by the nature and culture journalist Michael Pollan, in which he investigates the medical revolution surrounding psychedelics.

After what Lin describes in Trip as a "whatever it takes" approach to writing previous novel Taipei—involving benzodiazepines, opiates, amphetamines and MDMA—he grew interested in the psychedelic experience (and wrote a column for VICE about it). But for those who aren’t Adderall-popping, observational novelists, a question remains: why does it feel like our interest in or reference to psychedelics has increased—especially as Xanax use has similarly infiltrated music, from lyrics to general artistic aesthetic, in a different way? And, to that: how does this generation’s relationship to psychedelics in popular culture differ from those who came before it?

With the exception of some gaping historical holes (this is an essay, not a book), the modern narrative of psychedelic culture can be briefly separated into a few eras. These are:

The 60s: Beat writers like Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg began documenting their experience with hallucinogens (Ginsberg has said that Part 2 of his infamous HOWL poem was "peyote writing") and black-and-white icons like Bob Dylan and The Beatles injected Technicolor into their work, ending, or at least culminating, in the banning of LSD in the UK and US, linked to a heightening in political awareness (which the governments did not like) and, later, the Manson Family murders, believed, in part, to have been influenced by the Beatles track “Helter Skelter.”

The 70s: Brian Eno wore shiny trousers and, with Roxy Music, wrote one of the best songs to breathe onto this planet. A bunch of weirdos listened to Can, and Led Zeppelin definitely took LSD at one point.

The 80s: Psychedelic-tinged rap emerged (see De La Soul’s debut, 3 Feet High and Rising); Acid House became a thing; everyone wore clothes that befitted the 'we get it, you smoke weed' meme.

The 90s: N/A, because heroin.

The 00s: "I ain’t acid rap, but I rap on acid" said Eminem on “Kill You.” But, aside from that, the world was generally fucked in this decade (see every newspaper headline from 2001 onward). Though the likes of Austin Psych Fest were founded (2007), and the hippy-dads of the 70s probably locked themselves in the garage from time to time, dosed up on the Grateful Dead and memories, it seemed as though psychedelics weren’t referenced in culture as much as they once had been.

And so to the 2010s, and the psychedelic renaissance. Obviously there are some black spots in the list above (yes, Erykah Badu might have taken hallucinogens when/before/after making Baduizm; nu-rave happened etc.), but, as the decade kicked off, artists like Kid Cudi emerged, taking an "eighth of shrooms just to see the universe." Then, groups like Flatbush Zombies, A$AP Mob and The Underachievers released their own psychedelic-influenced music, leading up to Chance the Rapper’s Acid Rap—the formative defining moment of the new generation of musicians who could comfortably and publicly lean into hallucinogens.

This generation’s approach to psychedelics differs from those in the past, though, in the way it intersects with mental health—something that’s seen prominently on ye. West, who described his first psychedelic experience in a self-authored 2012 PAPER mag piece as being the result of inhaling nitrous oxide during a dentist appointment, recorded his latest albums in Wyoming, where he was speculated to be experimenting with psychedelics – something later confirmed by lyrics on ye.

"Tweaking off that 2C-B," he raps on the track "Yikes," before later speaking about his experience of dying and then coming back to life after taking DMT. Money-hardened British art students prefer the former, while South Americans have used the latter for millennia (joined recently by harem-panted European tourists) as one element in ayahuasca. Beyond that, you’ll probably already know about DMT in its synthesized form, if you’re the sort of person who read VICE in 2012 or someone who spends the Sunday of Glastonbury in a stranger’s tent at the very back-end of the Tipi Fields.

Setting aside ye's pre-release MAGA narrative, the album ostensibly focuses on mental health (from its "I Hate Being Bipolar, It’s Awesome" cover art to its lyrics). In a parallel universe—where the context of his Trumpist politics, and the hurt they particularly caused his black American fans, did not exist—the album could have been seen as groundbreaking in its psychiatric openness. West’s position as a global mega-star easily could have facilitated that. All of which is to say the references to psychedelics and mental health on ye are understandably intertwined.

There is, of course, a therapeutic value to hallucinogens—something Leary explored in the 50s and 60s, which continues to be delved into today. Pollan touches on it too, at one point visiting a dying cancer patient receiving psychedelic treatment, in his book. Or as Jon Hopkins put it in an interview with Noisey around his album Singularity, the psychedelic experience brings "a spark," a "sense of wonder back" into life.

"To live on a day-to-day basis is insufficient for human beings; we need to transcend, transport, escape; we need meaning, understanding, and explanation; we need to see overall patterns in our lives," Oliver Sacks writes in 2012’s Hallucinations, as quoted in The New Yorker. This search for understanding is what prompted Jhene Aiko to turn to magic mushrooms while writing her 2017 album Trip; it was a period in which, as she told Rolling Stonelast year, she journeyed through grief and used psychedelics to help move through, understand, or alleviate trauma after a family death. Similarly on Blonde—a record that, at least during my shroom trip, seemed to be about a lot of things, but most notably unrequited and broken down relationships—Frank Ocean seemingly uses mushrooms as a way to become pensive and further access emotion—to “have a good cry”, as he puts it on "Seigfried." At other points – on album opener "Nikes" and later on "Solo"—he speaks about taking acid, and does so over instrumentals that are similarly reflective in tone to the melancholic tinge on "Seigfried."

Unlike past generations in which psychedelics were predominantly used for mind expansion on an extraterrestrial level, Ocean seems to use them as a way to look inward, to self-examine, as well as to escape. Similarly, there’s a psychedelic link between Ocean’s Blonde and Kacey Musgraves Golden Hour, which Alex Robert Ross described on Noisey as the result of them being "quietly hallucinatory records, swept away from mundanity by flood after flood of serotonin." Musing on both artist’s approach to psychedelics, Ross also writes that Ocean and Musgraves believe they’re "something that can alter them for the better, something that can strip back some layers."

Interestingly, Blonde and Golden Hour are the bookends between Xanax’s brief, yet no less impactful, influence on music. By now, you probably know the science stuff. As a benzo, Xanax is prescribed to decrease anxiety, and is a popular form of treatment for a range of mental health issues. Its recreational (and dangerous) use among teenagers, though, has grafted itself on Soundcloud rap, in which two of its most popular (and recently deceased) rappers Lil Peep and XXXtentacion spoke openly about depression, personal turmoil and their pharmaceutical drug use. In Peep’s case, on “Praying To The Sky”, he says he found some Xanax his bed, “took that shit, went back to sleep”.

Twenty-two years after Timothy Leary died, and eight since the death of his protege Terence McKenna (whose life and teachings forms the basis of Lin’sTrip), society is still coming around to the therapeutic qualities of psychedelics. But, thankfully, progress is being made. Unlike benzodiazepines—whose effects are often short-lasting and need to be taken in regular doses—recent studies of psychedelics show they have a longer-term benefit in exacerbating or in some cases completely alleviating anxiety and depression. For example, a 2016 Beckley/Imperial study found that one small dose of mushrooms can work as a therapeutic remedy; of the 12 people tested—all of whom had experienced depression over an average of 18 years—five reported still feeling free of depression after three months.

Of course, that is a minuscule study. And Xanax and psychedelics are two different forms of medicine. One is a pharmaceutical drug designed to alleviate anxiety; the other is a natural plant that is presumed to expand the mind—i.e, choose the former and you’re easing the pressure of looking in, choose the latter and you’re looking out. But, at a time when one in four people in the United Kingdom will experience a mental health condition, it’s worth delving into psychedelics as a form of mental health treatment, especially as teenage use of Xanax (whether recreationally or as a form of self-medication) has proved fatal, evidenced in VICE UK’s recent documentary Xanxiety: The UK’s Fake Xanax Epidemic.

In either case, both Xanax and psychedelics have shaped culture in the past few years. In its recreational form, the impact of Xanax has mostly been a tragic, sad blip for a young generation. However for psychedelics – and in-particular shrooms – the future looks bright. I think back to my Third Level trip, listening to Frank Ocean, and remember a passage from Lin’s recent book. "Peaking on large doses of Adderall alone in my room, I’ve never sobbed while thinking fondly and lovingly about my parents, as I have on cannabis and psilocybin," he writes, in a chapter focused on the differences between psychedelics and drugs, which he believes to be two different entities.

My experience was not dissimilar to Lin’s, as I’m sure it might have also been for West and Aiko, or Musgraves and Ocean and their own experiences. I don’t want to "turn on, tune in, and drop out," but I do want to see the world in its glory: :all the colors composing to create a whole." From looking into other pieces of music, it seems like others want that experience too—one of a brightly colored and connected escape where, for a moment (or maybe three to five hours), the shittier pieces of our world dissolve and become a little brighter.

Then, of course, after the trip I experienced, there are the next two steps in Leary’s five-level-scale: the fourth (involving out of body experiences); and the fifth (encountering intelligent entities, such as the infamous DMT elves). But that’s for another time. In either case, whatever you do, make sure you bring along a friend for the ride, and here’s to expanding until we all turn into dust.

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