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buckyjamess-archive · 3 years

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𝓼𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓮𝓷 | 𝓫𝓾𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓫𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓼

chapter two • want to be tagged? or shoot me a message • reblogs, likes and comments are welcome!• wordcount: 2.4k+• warnings: typical marvel violence, mentions of blood, ptsd, angst, bit of fluff at the end.

summary

once a test subject and once a weapon, you, better known as seventeen live a peaceful life in the shadows of society until an old friend drags you into the world you so desperately want to leave behind but at least you're not the only weapon.

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Denver, Colorado, 2012

The smell of gasoline and burned rubber from screeching tires hangs heavy in the air. The low sounds of still running engines, screaming of women, the crying of children and sirens far in the distance. The orange and red flames dancing around the highway, warming the side of your face where loose strands of hair are plastered. Flames radiating through the material of your suit. Boots heavy against the concrete with each step taken but all grip on reality is lost and has been the moment they cleared your brain and embroidered a new job.

Kill.

The sky a painted blue, the sun high and a few lost clouds flowing by. If you weren't brainwashed, you'd have noticed the one shaped like a rabbit. Would've noticed the soft pinks and purples from the flowers growing alongside the roads. Would've noticed the birds singing their songs, taken home in the high trees in the forest nearby. You would've appreciated the sunny spring day, would've gone out with friends, a nice picnic mayhaps. If you weren't brainwashed, if you weren't a soldier–

смелый - courageous

is what it started, sending pulses to every fiber of your being, a state of fighting back..while you can.

пятьдесят пять - fifty-five

The year you were born, the year you wish would've happened differently.

Пожар - fire

Halfway there, just a couple more words to trigger the soldier, one more attempt to deviate.

сирота - orphan

That you were, a bastards child, an embarrassment- given away in broad daylight to people who did care.

адский пес - hellhound

No turning back now. Brain flooded black, giving over your mind and body to the soldiers around.

спаситель - savior

welcome back soldier.

Are you ready to comply, soldat?

William M. Sutherland, 49 years, divorced, estate agent by day, drug dealer by night and much more but something you never seemed to care or remember about– one thing and one thing only on your mind, kill the bad.

You'd parked your bike neatly five cars behind his black Audi R8, stalled in a long line of traffic. Hunched over and stealthily making your way past the others, completely ignoring the looks from the innocent. William M. Sutherland never noticed, fingers tapping along the leather steering wheel, singing along with his favorite song before your elbow smashed in the window of his side. A strong grip tangled in the brown curls, head janked back with a force that could break every single bone. A deafening scream leaving the man's lips when you'd pulled in out through the small window and thrown right onto the ground, scampering back on his knees and hands, like a scared animal.

"Please, god.." helpless and pointless "what did I do?"

Black, it's all you see and silence is all you hear. Trigger words and the mission as a mantra flowing through your brain. You don't hear the cars crashing, trying to get away and the people fleeing.

"Please.."

Your fingers wrap around the metal of the gun in its holster, strapped to the side of your thigh.

"Please..I'll do anything!"

The little snap rings through the air, letting you know you've successfully pulled the gun out. Dark eyes set on the men on the ground– you raise it and point blank between his eyes.

"I'm a bad man!" The man yells in terror "I'll do anything to change!"

Pull the trigger.

the man's head falls back on the concrete with a thud, a puddle of blood increasing around his head, splatters against the grey suv inches away. Lifeless.

raising your head, your eye to eye with the young lady behind the wheel of the suv. Pleading eyes, knuckles white from the grip around the wheel, frozen. A single plea leaves her lips when you raise your gun again and she's met with the barrel– a loud pang and shattering glass, her head falls forwards on the wheel, making the horn go off, continuously.

No mercy.

A high pitched cry for help behind you had you turned around, fast and smooth, gun raised and aimed at the little girl in the backseat of the car you had pulled out the man seconds ago. Tears falling her rosy cheeks, ducked down the driver's seat but she doesn't break eye contact as if she knew.

Blinking a few times, you lower your gun and tuck it back in place while the other hand grips the door handle and open it, nearly jacking it off its hinges. A strong arm wrapped around the little girl's waist and pulled out carefully. Holding her under your arm, her feet hit your back and hands hitting the arm around her, screaming and kicking. Your boots stump against the road again, girl in your grip as you make your way to a scared woman shielding herself behind her car and drop the girl back on her feet beside her. Scurrying into the woman's arms, you nod at both of them before turning on your heels. A few long strides take you back to your bike– mission accomplished.

The suit is uncomfortable, suffocating, glued to every inch of your body. The gloves are heavy and the boots seem to be smaller than you remember them to be. The way your hair is pulled back tight, you're sure it'll rip the skin off your skull, the thick black eyeliner around your eyes is irritating and the red lipstick makes you want to rub it off with your sleeve. The guns and knives against both your thighs feel wrong.

Is this necessary?

You'd asked yourself that question a million times already.

Does this really make it all more believable?

Zemo, weirdly enough, had showed up with an exact copy of the suit you'd abandoned the moment you escaped from hydra's grip. Obsessed, still. The man had been on your tail for years until he got locked up safe and sound. The zemo family is more than willing to have you. Use you for their own needs, ready to pay dirty money to get you.

Creep

It's nerve wrecking and confronting, you in that suit..you and not the soldier. This was everything you avoided to be..to become, again. God, you hate that suit and everything it represents. This isn't you anymore..right?

This is all bullshit

"Is this a cyborg thing?" Sam's voice in your ear pops your bubble "you're staring."

Pushing yourself off your bike, you stand straight and take a quick peek at the three men standing a feet away.

This is bullshit

Yegorov you knew him, another one of them, another one like you, another fugitive. Broken free from hydra, like you, like many others. Supposedly the key to more.

'You know him' a poor excuse from the men behind you 'he won't hurt you.'

"Bucky does it, the staring." Sam's voice comes from your earpiece again, annoying. You've never had to work with earpieces and microphones and all technology you never ever used in your soldier days.

You stay silent. Memories of missions flooding your mind, faces of people second before meeting their end– you can still walk away and burn this suit as well..but helping people, you don't even know how that feels and it seems inviting.

"Seventeen," you roll your eyes and snap your head back again at the voice of zemo "does it still work?"

"Does what still work?" You ask annoyed

It's silent and from where you're standing you can see the smirk on Zemo's face and the confused looks from Bucky and sam.

"Courageous woman," zemo starts

"Don't," you mumble almost inaudible, blood pumping faster, heart rate skipping.

Not this, not after those three years of being free

"Born in fifty-five."

without hesitation you pluck the earpiece out in a hurry. she's not welcome, not anymore, never again. Bawling it into your fist, you see the changes on the men's face as you march towards them. Anger and anxiety slowly building up. If zemo gets on your nerves this easily, treating to trigger the soldier– you're done.

"Hey, what's-" sam huffs out a breath of air and a grunt when your fist meets his shoulder, earpiece falling onto the ground "what are you doing?"

your eyes dart to the man slowly sneaking backwards, hands deep in the pockets of his jacket. Zemo knows what he's doing.

"Ask your friend." You hiss "I'm done."

Wordlessly, you leave the trio. Feet dragging you back to your bike, anxiety slowly ebbing away but anger still growing. Fucking zemo. Swinging your leg over the seat, you sit down, ready to take off but the heavy footsteps coming closer makes you slow your actions.

"Hey, where are you going?"

It's him. You were supposed to be him, a new version but better, stronger and smarter. The winter soldier, or at least the man he is- james 'bucky' barnes

you ignore him, like you have been doing for the last two days to all of them.

"We need you." Bucky says and you snort sarcastically.

Bucky watches you as you adjust the gloves around your hands and kick the standard of your bike up

"Were those your trigger words?"

"Not all of us get the privilege to get them erased."

Bucky's proud and maybe that's an understatement. He's talked both zemo and sam into his plans but that didn't even come close to the feeling that did arise in his chest the moment you stepped off your bike and silently agreed to stay with the trio, just because he had talked with you, not a lot but enough to pull you back.

Bucky gained your trust faster than sam or zemo and maybe having the same story would be the cause of just that. Two tortured souls, same experiences but one with a little bit more than the other. Hence why he volunteered to keep you company in this over the top hotel room- though, Sam insisted, not trusting either bucky or you in the same room as zemo.

Bucky is fascinated by you. Stretched out on the black couch, weight resting on his elbow and a magazine beneath his nose but he's not reading it nor admiring the people in it-

The smell of pink blossom wafts from the bathroom, a soft hum picked up by his super hearing and the water running from the shower has been replaced by the one from the faucet and with the door ajar, he can see you through the mirror. You don't need it, he doesn't know what it is, the white substance you're rubbing into your skin but he's sure you don't need it. The still damp hair falling down your face must be the cutest thing he's seen in a while and it all just doesn't fit with the woman from earlier, the woman in her suit, weapons, the women who had to be the seventeen that was made.

He wonders if it's wrong, you'd opened the door minutes earlier to grab something from your bag, already showered‐ he isn't going to see you naked.

He wants to ask questions, he wants to know and he wants to understand but if you're anything like him, bucky knows he's not getting a lot out of you.

Bucky averts from your moving figure and back to the article on page seven. 'Ten party ideas for your perfect summer!' But he can't help and look back up to catch you walking out the bathroom in your black sweatpants and a matching top, ridiculously colorful dotted socks which make him smile the smallest of smiles.

'You're staring again.' He can hear Sam's voice echo through his mind, making his eyes roll back in his head.

You sit down on the edge of the king sized bed, back facing him and once again he's able to see the black inked 17 under your hairline and it makes his stomach twist. Your hand reaches for the mobile device on the bedside table but he can't see it good enough.

God, he's so curious.

"Your eyes are burning in my back." You say but bucky keeps his eyes right where they are

"Why seventeen?" Bucky knows, though he doesn't trust zemo for any gold.

Prepared for another defeating silence, bucky casts his eyes back to the same article again.

"There were sixteen before me."

So zemo didn't lie for once?

Bucky once again looks back up, this time meeting your eyes as you'd adjusted your position slightly.

"We were 'created' to be another version of the winter soldier..you. faster, stronger, smarter. The first sixteen simply weren't good enough or didn't survive the serums– lucky me, i did."

"Another me?" Bucky asks curiously, brows raised

"Guess you were shit."

For the first time since meeting, he sees you smile or smirk for that matter. His stomach somersaulting. He squints his eyes slightly.

"Yeah, that must be it." He deadpans and it evokes a genuine smile from you "did it work?"

"Did what work?"

"The stronger, faster, smarter part."

Bucky closes the magazine and tosses it on the coffee table where he rests his feet as he sits up tight, hands resting in his lap.

"Why, you want to fight it out?"

another smirk. God you were going to be that kind of person that caused him a lot of different emotions and feelings

Bucky shakes his head and copies the smirk on your face "no, I'd probably lose."

"Oh yeah, you will." You chuckle softly and god, it's so sweet?

Your back is facing him again for a second as you tuck yourself under the white covers, knees propped up, eyes back on his.

"It's (y/n)."

Bucky tilts his head aside and knits his brows in confusion "sorry?"

"You asked for my name earlier, it's (y/n)," you smile softly "or as I've read in my files."

"Suits you." Bucky states honest because it really does suit you but confusion takes over once again 'as you've read in your files?' Bucky never really was aware of his own name in those days but he sure did know his names in the deep corners of his mind, he just needed a little reminder.

"You never knew your name?" He asks curiously

"They wiped pretty much every good memory." You mumble "only left the reasons they picked me."

"Why did they pick you?"

"That's for another time." There's that smirk again "goodnight james."

"Goodnight, (y/n)."

It's more than he expected to get out of you and he knows it's still a long way to go but the smile, smirk and chuckle was more than enough for now

taglist; @fanngirl19 @weirdowithnobeardo @tailsoflightning @writing-red @earthtonav @kenziekugler22 @21bruhs @weenersoldierr @queensnail333 @stickbvg

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #tfatws

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mattzerella-sticks · 4 years

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Four of Swords

Destiel, 7.1k, M, Ao3 link

Super happy I can finally share what me and my amazing partner, @maleyah-givemetomorrow, cooked up for the @supernaturaltropecelebration

Hope you all enjoy! (story below, but if you go to ao3 there’ll be pretty pictures - I definintely recommend viewing them and showing love to the artist!)

The Four of Swords, in the present position, means you don't want to interact with the rest of the world. Because of stress, you need to spend some time with yourself - unhealthy always being 'on'. That the healthiest thing to do is to escape.

Dean might crave escape, but it's not something he thinks he can have. Something he deserves, even. After his and Sam's most recent hunt, this cancerous feeling has grown heavy and weighs him down. He cannot escape on his own, as best he tries.

Luckily a guardian 'former angel' angel swoops in at his lowest. Helps pick up the pieces as best he can and lovingly put them back together. But he can only do so much. The rest is up to Dean.

Can Dean take those final steps, say those final words, and finally free himself?

His leg bounces, foot playing with the pedal while forcing the speedometer past its limits. Fingers squeeze the wheel tight enough he knows will leave permanent indents in the leather. Dean feels, more acutely than ever, how small his car’s interior is. Her cabin walls closing in around like the Death Star’s trash compacter. Aided by Sam’s ever-present stare, weighted by all the questions Dean will not let him ask. Forbade with a shake of his head and a rough flick of the ignition.

The sun creeps past the horizon, morning rudely greeting them. Beams of light pierce the glass, its glare interfering with his driving. Dean swings a heavy paw up towards the visor and pulls down, hard. It blocks most of the sun but gives Dean a worse distraction.

His gaze strays from the road to the tiny mirror embedded within the visor. Bounces around the borders of his face, studying the features and additions. Green eyes burdened with purplish bags. Dirt smudged around his hairline, disappearing into his short, mussed locks. Scratches peppered his cheeks like freckles, and the dried blood around his lips looks almost comical. Like he overlined them with an ugly shade of lipstick, clownlike and surreal.

“You’re drifting.”

Sam tugs the wheel closer, straightening their car. Dean wills back the discomfort of having Sam’s hand covering his. Of the memory, hours ago, where their layered hands held different context. Pushing. Praying. Reaching for a spark of Dean that nearly drowned and was lost forever. He shakes his head, focusing on the road again. “Thanks,” he says once his brother’s hand drifted away.

They reach the Bunker minutes later, Dean parking between the green Hudson and silver Chrysler. Both collecting dust. Dean checks his phone – 8:34 a.m. 3 missed calls, 8 unanswered texts. He swipes for the message thread, not reading any of the grey bubbles and typing a simple message. Back. Then Dean drops it in an empty cupholder and lays his head on the wheel.

Exhaustion drips along his bones like slime, filling the spaces between joints. His muscles broadcast their pain in full stereo, working in tandem with his brain. Each twinge a reminder of what happened. What he did and what he almost became.

Someone howls. It is far, but familiar. It sounds like – home? Belonging? Right? More noise, this time closer. Snarling. Snarling and growling. His jaw shudders and bends, reforming. A fire crackles under his skin, urging him forward. Follow the call. Follow the scent. Smell that, hear that, it is all so… pure. Free. You are free. Trust your instincts.

“Fuck,” he hisses. Dean presses his dirty nails into his palms, a reminder of their usual bluntness. Definitely not sharp enough to pierce the skin. He can’t hurt anyone else with them. “Fuck…”

Sam shifts at his side, hovering. Worrying. “Dean –“

“Not now, Sammy,” he says. Dean sucks in a large breath, fixing his armor. Raises his head off the steering wheel, staring out the window. “I’m not ready, not yet.” He wasn’t ready when they watched the barn disappear behind them, burning, smoke drifting into the starless night. When they stopped at the motel so Sam could collect their stuff while Dean idled in the parking lot. When Sam exploded halfway between Denver and Cheyenne, drool wet on his chin, and still unprepared when he apologized minutes later.

He didn’t deserve his damned forgiveness.

“Just…” Dean breathes, shivering, “go.”

The car door opens and shuts with soft clicks. Dean watches his brother stumble over half-asleep legs to the exit, Sam’s gait heavy and awkward. He pauses under the archway. His head tilts slowly right, and Dean tears his eyes from the rearview mirror. Dean counts the beats of his heart, waiting. After thirty he checks the rearview and Sam is gone.

Flinging himself out the car, Dean falls on hands and knees while his stomach revolts. He coughs, splutters, and heaves with all the force he can muster. There’s not a lot in his stomach but it surges up, splattering against the floor. Mixes with the blood and dirty already staining his fingers. His nausea passes the crest and recedes, body nearly purged. He spits into the bile, running his tongue over the waxy film coating his teeth. Gross, but not enough. The taste lingers.

Right there. Follow the fear, the rapid breathing – babumbabumbabumbabum. There is sweetness in victory, in the thrill of chasing. No escape, only death. Screams cut short when you tear through the throat. Chestnut fur matted with blood, goes down smooth. Delicious. Filling.

Dean winces at the mess. “Not cleaning that up,” he says, “at least not now.” With his remaining strength, Dean drags his body up. Leans on his car for a moment, then walks away with the door still open and with bags in the trunk. He cannot remember if he left the key in the ignition, nor does he care if he did.

There are more pressing matters that need attending.

He wanders with intention, drifting past rows of doors until he reaches the shower room. Dean turns, slowing to a shuffle and then a full stop once halfway inside. Head bowed, he focuses on the contrast between his mud-caked boots and the pristine tiles ruined by his intrusion. Squints and sees a twig lodged in the loop of his lace. Looks closer and sees a small pawprint left immortalized on the material.

In one bite the head tears completely off, blood spurting up from the severed neck. Sprays his face while he chews. Dean smiles, teeth catching the droplets and licking them clean off. He greedily stuffs the rest of its small body into his mouth, then licks his hands. Uncurling from the forest floor, he continues on. There is a call he needs to answer.

Dean hears the twig snap while clawing at the laces. He throws his left boot to the side, followed by his right. Peels his socks off and does the same. The second round of dizziness descends as the cool floor coaxes a more measured response from him. Sighing, Dean closes his eyes and continues stripping.

Even blind, Dean knows what he throws away. A yellow plaid button-down ripped across the back. Brown t-shirt crusty with dried blood all over the front. Jeans camouflaged in various stains, held up by a belt that worked in saving him from succumbing. And underwear that, while clean, were rather unwanted in the moment.

Goosepimples rise along the blades of his shoulders, rushing up his neck and over his back. Dean shakes, crosses his arms and tucks his chin against his chest. “Come on,” he says, bouncing on his feet, “In and out… you’ll feel much better.” He steps forward and then returns to where he was. “You’ll feel better and clean and – and like yourself again.”

“This is who you were truly meant to be…” His voice purrs, sparks firing off pleasurably in his brain. A rough tongue licks up his neck, and Dean nuzzles the hand petting his cheek. “Who we were always meant to be… give into your instincts, my pet. Give into yourself…”

“Dean what are – oh! I’m sorry!” He whips around and finds Cas standing in the doorway. Hands squeezing the towel, eyes trained upwards and not ahead like they must have been moments ago. The blush on his cheeks clueing him in. “I thought, when you said you were home, you’d be in bed…”

Dean rakes his gaze over the other man’s body. At the scruff in serious need of shaving, unkempt along his jaw and overrunning his neck. The oversized t-shirt, tie-dyed in various shades of oranges, reds, and yellows. A graphic from a Led Zeppelin album ironed on from a collection Dean found at a garage sale, given over because the angel reminded him of Cas. His shirt’s hem overhangs and covers half of the shorts he wears, hairy calves fully on display.

A year into humanity and Dean marvels at how he stays so heavenly.

“No,” he says, “don’t feel much like sleeping…” Then Dean drifts his focus away from the other man and back to the shower stalls. Empty and waiting. In a few seconds he could wash the entirety of yesterday into the drains, dirtied water swirling at his feet. Scrape any trace of the wildness with soap and scalding, hot water. Keep at it, until the knot in his chest unraveled finally.

Dean stiffens. Someone brushed his arm. Cas squeezes, whispering, “Are you going to shower?”

He nods. Steps forward, and again. And collapses at the mouth of the shower, scrabbling for the curtain and ripping it from the rod. Dean gasps, the harsh sound echoing in the room, and curls in on himself. The cheap plastic crinkles and sticks to his skin, blanketing his thighs. One of the metal rings completely tore and now digs into his stomach. Cas calls for him, but his voice is distant.

“We can start anew once your transformation is complete. I can hear it inside you, Dean. There’s a killer in there waiting to be unchained. Let me free you from the prison society forced you in, allow your true self to roam, empowered in its glory and righteousness. You’ll be my right hand in my new pack. All that’s left, is for you to break the final lock…”

“Dean, Dean I need you to say something,” Cas presses a warm hand into his back, kneading the clammy skin. “Please… I know not to hope for anything good but at least tell me you’re here, with me.”

“I’m here,” he murmurs, “I’m… I’m here.” More of a reminder than an answer. Dean blinks, leaving the acrid stench of death for faint, lemon cleanser. Shadows and dim lighting for humming fluorescents. False promises for strong foundations. “I’m here,” Dean says again, sliding his hand from the curtains to Cas’s, the other hanging at his side. Squeezes at his wrist. “Thanks.”

“It’s no problem,” Cas huffs, sizing Dean up. He shrinks under his gaze, conscious of how he must look. “Do you want to –“

“No.”

Cas nods, as if expecting it. “You want to clean yourself up?” Dean shrugs. He clucks, fingers skimming his hairline on a wide rub. “Look as if you’ve glued yourself to the underside of your car and had Sam drive across any backroads he found.” The joke inspires Dean’s dimples to appear, and Cas’s overly proud smile forces a small chuckle. “Are you able to stand?”

“I think I can manage…” Dean winces, the plastic shower curtain peeling off him. Cas keeps his face steady, not even a flicker of interest in peeking as it falls, when Dean exposes himself. A superficial wound. Fortunately Cas’s hand on his back and the other, now holding his, stay and help him up. He wobbles on shaky legs but won’t fail. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Cas tells him, thumb tickling his pulse point, “do you want me to give you privacy?”

He swallows his tongue. Or rather, something living inside his throat snatches it and prevents him from speaking. Dean glances at the shower, dread crawling forth once more. The scant space between him and the handle stretches, vision tunneling. He wants nothing more, if only the thought of it didn’t paralyze him. Cas murmurs at his side. “What?” he chokes out.

“I might have an idea,” Cas says, “that is… if you’re okay with me seeing you like… like this?”

Dean raises a wry brow. “Does it matter?” he asks, “You already have.”

“Just being polite…” Cas moves away from him, Dean following for a beat until he stops himself. The other man looks to the door, than at him. He scoops his forgotten towel, dumped on the floor at some point in the past few minutes, and offers it to him. “Here.”

“Like I said, Cas –“

“I know,” he interrupts, “but I doubt you want to walk the halls like that, where at any point Sam could stumble on you and… assume.” A hell of an assumption. Favorable too, he thinks. Dean blushes and bites his lip. He accepts the towel, lazily wrapping it around his waist. Not bothering to tuck it, holding it with his hands so they wouldn’t hang without purpose. Cas finally dips his gaze towards his crotch and relaxes. “Okay,” he says, “follow me.”

They leave the shower room, Dean practically hitting Cas’s heels with how closely he trails the other man. Enough that he could swing his arm and accidentally brush his hip. He won’t, though the possibility is tempting.

It’s not a far enough walk for that.

Cas turns the corner and leads Dean to the second door on the right. “I found this awhile back, early on in our stay here and carried it to this room one day when you were out.” He opens it for him, gesturing inside with a lackluster flourish. “Glad I did, don’t know how I would have managed without my angel strength.”

Dean steps inside, searching. There is not much waiting for him. Smaller than most rooms, he can imagine it being a closet with ease. Spots the tiny holes where screws must have been. Hidden in the outlines of where shelves once were. “Didn’t know you were handy.”

“I learn fast.”

“I’ll say,” Dean says, “plumbing’s a bitch to do.” He smirks at the large, stainless steel faucet. There’s another outline underneath against the wall that marks where a sink used to be. Removed so the porcelain, clawfoot tub can rest. “You take baths?”

“When I can,” Cas tells him, “I find it very healing. Even when I could mend broken bones and turn jagged cuts into flawless, smooth skin with my grace, I found myself drifting here every now and then, sitting for a soak.”

Dean taps at the rim of the bathtub, pouting. “And you brought me here, thinking I want to…” He doesn’t finish, instead studying the other man. Watches how the innocent question rocks the boat of his good intentions. Cas pouts, folds his arms and scuffs his toe on the floor. Dean softens, “Thank you.”

“…You’re welcome,” he shifts, turning his back, “Now, do you want to get in? I find that when you twist the handle on the right, the water is warmer.”

He waits. Panic rises, thinking Cas might leave. Worse that he can’t find it in him to ask that he stay. But then Cas settles, staring at the closed door. Dean smiles and starts the faucet.

When the bathtub is halfway full Dean climbs in. His knees poke from up out of the water, too tall to stretch his legs. He slides in further, so the water laps at his chin and more leg is on display. Already it fogs over, a filmy layer swirling on the surface. Dean cups some of the water and splashes it on his face, all too aware of much red drips. “I’m as decent as I can be,” he calls, splashing.

Cas sighs. “How does it feel?”

“S’nice,” he shrugs, “Not that I get to do this often but…” Dean sees Cas walk over, grabbing at a nearby bucket. “What are you doing?”

“Helping,” Cas says, dropping the bucket. He kneels, presenting a washcloth and a soap bar he must have pulled from below.

“Aw, no Cas,” Dean starts, sliding into a low crouch. Braced on the edges of the bathtub. “You don’t have to –“

“Please, Dean,” Cas whispers. Two fingers rest over his knuckles, feather light and barely there. “Let me do this for you… after what you must have gone through…”

Dean will not break his staring contest with his navel, sure that if he glanced in Cas’s direction another episode like the one in the shower room will happen. “Fine,” he mutters, plopping back into the tub and spraying Cas with a few errant drops. “If you want, go right ahead.” His arms encircle his knees, stricken expression hidden. Sitting in the center of the bathtub, Dean never felt so small.

Cas carries on wordlessly. Runs the soap under the faucet before turning it off. It’s filled to about a few inches from the rim, any sudden movement able to cause a good spill. Which is why Cas talks him through the steps. Like a skittish animal, provoked at the tiniest snap of a twig or rustling leaves.

Defenseless. Unaware. Fattening itself for the lucky prey that happens across it. His lips peel back for his teeth to appear, spit dripping from them. His fingers lead him forward, nails glinting when the moonlight breaks through the foliage and hits them. One clumsy step and what sounds like a gunshot echoes in his ears. It stops. Then it sprints off. So does he, a fraction of a second later. The chase begun. He huffs, he smiles, he growls. Hungry.

Dean hisses when the cloth rubs over a badly healed wound, reopening it. “Sorry,” Cas says, dabbing the spot again and pouring some water from a cupped hand over the skin. “I didn’t see – I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Cas.” He offers a wobbly smile, shrugging. “It’s okay.”

Cas grimaces, Dean staring on the thin, chapped line. Better than blue spotlights running across his face. Soon his lips smooth into something more neutral, and Cas resets.

He focuses on how the washcloth feels, Cas lathering soap across him. Doesn’t fight when he grabs Dean’s arm and holds it up, running the fabric over and leaving soap bubbles in its track. There’s a jagged cut slashed across his knuckles from a misplaced lunge. Cas, prepared, gently dabs at it. His hold is firm and touch careful.

Too careful. Too caring. The special treatment makes his skin crawl. Dean winces again as Cas drags the washcloth along his shoulder blades and onto his other arm. “Sensitive?” Cas asks, because he notices. Add too observant, too. “Days like these make me miss my powers.”

Dean snorts, “So you could fly on out of here without any problems?” That escapes easier than he would like. He curses under breath, sneaking a peek at Cas. Like Dean expected, Cas’s expression makes his heart sink into his stomach. “Shit, sorry…”

“I don’t need wings to ‘fly on out of here’,” he says, “if I wanted, I could get on a plane tomorrow.” Cas finishes lathering his arm and soaps his chest. Rubs the washcloth over and over his tattoo. Its ink vibrating erratically because of his words, the possibility, and Cas’s closeness “The operative term being wanted. What I want right now is… well, I want you to not feel any pain.”

But he should. It’s all he should feel. Dean deserves the pain. For yesterday, what he almost did. For now, what he callously said to Cas. For years and years of causing so much hurt and enjoying it and taking pride in it. He should drown in all this pain. Instead he has an angel bathing him in kindness.

He tries every day to be better than his darkest moment. When he and Cas stared across at each other, fully ruptured. Dean throwing more dynamite into the divide until the ground crumbled beneath their feet and the landscape of their relationship was unrecognizable. After Purgatory he made a promise. His pain should remain with him, not forced into the hands of others.

Some days they wriggle, others they slip. Dean tries every day. If only every day, he succeeded.

Cas washes his face, leaning half over the tub so there’s barely a breath of space between them. A simple turn and their noses brush together. He cannot do more than breath, sharp puffs out his mouth. Sometimes muffled when Cas wipes at the dried blood marking the skin around it.

It’s too much.

“I almost killed Sam.” Cas pauses, frozen at the corner of Dean’s lips. Some of the soap drips into his mouth, and he can taste it. “Yesterday, on the hunt I… I almost killed him.”

His brain steams ahead, thinking how Cas might wish for the plane ticket now that he knows. Imagines him dropping the washcloth into his hands and leaving without a word. Again, wiping his hands of Dean’s garbage and climbing out the hole before any more shovels in to bury him.

Instead Cas runs his fingers through Dean’s hair, smiling. “Tell me what happened.”

His walls crumble immediately. Dean savors the touch while he begins his story. Cas already knew the beginning – driving into a town beset by murders, where killers left heartless bodies for the police. Rolled in with the script memorized, asking all the right questions. Found the pack’s den and attacked. “We said we got all of them,” Dean sighs, ducking his head, “but that wasn’t the whole truth.”

The leader escaped. They only realized it when counting the bodies, battle too confusing that losing track of one werewolf in a dozen was unavoidable. Risky in their line of work, but a quick perimeter search kicked up no trace of him. Dean and Sam closed the case, driving off to the motel and licking their wounds.

“I was careless, or… or I don’t know, didn’t think much of it but…” Dean holds his arm up and looks at it. There’s no mark on the skin, but he traces the bite from memory. “Got me when I wasn’t looking. By the time I knew what was happening it was like I… like something had come over me. I heard howling and I tore off after it. Sam coming back to an empty motel room with a broken lock.”

If he stays too long in his memories, he will lose himself in them again. Racing through the woods with newfound agility and grace. Jumping, launching himself over fallen trees and boulders. What it felt like ripping apart the first woodland creature he crossed paths with. The soapy taste in his mouth turns sour.

“The leader was crazy… had this whole philosophy that I believed because he said it and all I could think was how much I trusted him. Thinking was too difficult while all fanged out and slobbering and – and so when he said to trust my ‘instincts’ I… I bared my neck. His instincts were my instincts. By that point Sammy snuck in, and – well protect is a pretty strong instinct.”

Sam plead, rallying all his strength so Dean’s claws wouldn’t eviscerate him. Dean straddled his brother, raging. Spat on him while gnawing for his neck. The last werewolf cheering Dean on. “Free yourself of your human burdens and join me in total freedom!” he sang, “Eat of his heart and you will be mine forever!”

“You don’t want this Dean,” Sam said, struggling. The syringe nearby looking damaged but not completely broken. “I know you. Fight him!”

Dean growled, “Want… want free… want blood!”

Sam sneered, tightening his grip on Dean’s wrists. He shifted and kicked Dean off. Dean flipped, landing on his back. They both scrambled upright, not wasting any time. With misguided fury Dean pounced for Sam, his brother twisting at the right second. Their fight continued in that fashion. Sam dodging Dean’s attacks, the latter growing more frustrated and sloppier.

Exactly what Sam planned.

Dean dove and smacked into a wall, knocking the breath from him. Stunned, Sam dove for his belt and slipped it over some exposed pipe. Not knowing any better, lost within the wolf, Dean struggled helplessly until brute strength won.

By the time Dean ripped the pipe from the wall Sam killed his sire. Injected Dean with the cure when he scurried towards the corpse and mourned. When all traces of his bite left Dean’s system, he mourned again. Sam standing overhead, watching, unable to lay a hand on his shoulder lest Dean bite at it in his familiar defensiveness.

“So Sam is fine?”

He bristles at the placid tone. Unbothered. Like Dean mentioned some off-hand piece of gossip that he happened across while scrolling through his phone. “Yeah,” Dean says harshly, “but I… I almost did him in. Nearly ate his heart before skipping off with some werewolf Charles Manson to start another werewolf cult and...”

Cas raises a brow. “And?”

Processing the events aloud help him realize how wildly he overreacted. How Sam clearly held no anger towards him for being on the menu. How there’s no reason for the inky sadness clinging to his heart and soul that makes him feel bad.

Except it’s there, and having no reason makes it even worse.

“And…” he fumbles, “And I think I’m getting too old for this.” Dean huffs, sinking against the bathtub while Cas continues petting him. “I’ve been doing this for what? Nearly forty years? That was how it’s going to end… Because I let that werewolf creep bite me and nearly turn me into his slave? Kind of makes everything I said about free will look like I pulled it from my ass.”

Cas chuckles, laying the washcloth on the porcelain rim. He pulls back, laying both arms along the edge and resting on it. Smirking, “No one will call you a hypocrite because you were under the influence of a werewolf bite.”

“Yeah, but…” Dean sighs, “I’m supposed to be better than this.”

“If I’ve learned anything from my time on Earth – from you – is that sometimes we have our off days,” Cas says, “We have to forgive ourselves for them.”

“Maybe if I tripped and scratched Baby’s paint or-or took a risk on some leftovers I don’t remember, sure,” he scoffs, “but when it comes to hunts… an off day can easily become my last day. Hunters don’t get off days. Heroes don’t… don’t…” He digs his nails into his knee, willing away the waterfall hovering around the edges of his eyes.

“Well, as true as that is, the fact you were able to see the sun rise means yesterday definitely wasn’t your last day.” The faint traces of humor in his tone barely lifts the corners of Dean’s mouth. Cas sighs. A few droplets splashing at Dean’s exposed leg, his hand now gently splashing the water. “I stand by what I said. Yes, you could’ve been more observant during your battle. And more conscious of your injuries. Then neither you nor Sam would still carry what should have been a simple hunt on your shoulders.” Mentioning it makes his shoulders sag further. “But then again, I could be beating myself for staying here watching Netflix while you and Sam got your hands dirty –“

“You kidding, Cas?” Dean bursts in, brows furrowed, “The Hell should you feel bad for?”

“A third set of eyes could’ve seen the werewolf escape – or stop him before he did… make sure you were checked over for serious injuries…” His fingers circle lazily, Cas’s mouth tugged down in a way that unsettles Dean’s stomach.

Dean sits straighter, glaring at the other man. “You needed the rest, Cas. After that ghoul tore your back up something fierce in Missoula? Even if you knew you could do something, I’d still have kept you –“ The tirade cuts short, Cas’s prideful smirk stealing the words from him. He sinks into the water, so low that water hides his burning cheeks. Adjusts by fully removing his legs from the bathtub, bracing his feet on the wall. Faucet between them.

Cas chuckles, rustling Dean’s hair. “See. Hindsight is only good for the future, to learn from our mistakes. Time is better spent in the present. Accepting that you did the best you could and… glad there are people who care about you, who will do anything to see you feel better.”

Dean looks up at Cas, the overhead bulb shining. Mimicking the effect of a halo. He lifts his chin enough to free his mouth. “I don’t know how you can put up with my stubborn ass.” I don’t know why I deserve you.

“I recall you calling my ass stubborn many times.” I don’t deserve you.

They always end up circling the drain. Never quite going in, a piece of hair clogging the passage. Right now, with Cas petting Dean’s hair and gazing into his eyes, Dean exposed under him in more ways than one, it cannot get any more tender. It’s still not enough.

At the top of the peak, you can only go off. They never jump.

Dean knew his reasons. When it felt like they could, there was never enough time. Something more pressing to deal with, a battle to fight. Always promising that when the moment was right, Dean would do something. But then when those moments came Dean and Cas were never there for them. Kept apart by circumstance, by death, by each other. Compelling. Dramatic. Completely frustrating.

But then Chuck vanished, he and Amara – light and darkness, creation and destruction – becoming one. Becoming entirely new. Blinked off into somewhere that Dean doesn’t care knowing about. As long as, on their way out, they cut the strings hanging over their heads.

It seemed like it. Life went on, as normal. Monsters needed hunting and beer needed drinking. Except there wasn’t anything more.

Hell stayed relatively calm with Rowena reorganizing it. Jack, seated on the throne of Heaven, brought a righteous humanity in his leadership. Even Billie took a holiday.

When the dust settled, Dean was ready for Cas to be on his way, too. One was offered.

“Are you sure?” Jack asked, eyes still aglow. Hand raised inches from Cas’s bloodied head. “I can give it all back to you. Give you more… you’d be the most powerful angel in my new Heaven. You can help me make it even better than it was.”

“Thank you, but… I think it’s time you left the nest, Jack,” Cas smiled, stepping back from him. “Heaven is in capable hands because they’re yours… I… we trust that you can do this without us.”

Jack nodded, light snuffed. He dove into Cas’s arms, then, hugging him. Then Sam, and finally Dean. “I’ll visit when I can,” he promised, trying not to cry.

Dean coughed, swiping a finger under his eye. “Soon!” he barked, “I don’t want to see you when I’m eighty!” Their laughter was bittersweet. Fully bitter when Jack disappeared with a flap.

Sam scuffed the ground, turning. “So,” he said, “what do we do now?” He scanned the area, Dean tracking the same space alongside him. At the scorched earth, barely recognizable from when they arrived. Green drained away and left lifeless, with a few serious scorch marks in certain areas. Like the one near a cracked mausoleum, where Chuck threw Cas. Where he held him by the neck and spit serious venom. Where he drained the little angel grace he had left and made him human again.

Cas clears his throat, drawing their attention. “After a shower and a change of clothes,” he said, “I think some sort of celebration. At home.”

Dean’s heart skipped over itself. “Home,” he repeated, “Yeah, I like that.”

Cas chose and chose again, and his choice never wavered. It was Earth. It was humanity. It was him, and it was home.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Cas asks, frowning, “what are you thinking?”

Dean rises somewhat. “I love you.” He would rather he weren’t naked, nor shaken from a hunt. And a forgotten supply closet with a dirty bathtub in it is hardly the number one place for a confession. But waiting for perfection screwed him over so many times.

“Oh,” Cas relaxes against the bathtub, sinking his hand back into the water, “is that all?”

Or maybe he should have kept waiting. Dean pouts, “I love you.”

“I know. You’re repeating yourself.”

“No, like…” he drags a wet hand over his face, “I love you. Like, I love you love you.”

Cas chuckles, light and carefree. Lines around his eyes crinkling in delight. “I know, Dean. I know.”

Dean gapes, chin slapping the surface of his bath. “You have?” Spurred into action by Cas’s growing laughter, Dean sinks his legs into the tub and sits up again. “For real?” The other man nods. “How long?”

Cas shrugs, “Awhile.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Joy retreats from Cas’s expression, leaving him somewhat guarded. He breaks with Dean’s stare. His hand glides through water and finds Dean’s leg. Strokes it. “I thought nothing needed to be said.”

Dean raises a brow, clicking his tongue. “So you were happy with…”

“I was content.”

He frowns, courage leaping up inside his chest and banishing the lingering traces of sadness and self-pity clinging inside his chest. “Well, I wasn’t,” Dean says. Waits for Cas to look at him again. “Do you know how many times we sat together and I wanted to hold your hand, but didn’t? Roll over on my bed and wake up next to you only to remember that you were down the hall? Sit in a diner and-and when the waitress came by I could say, ‘I’ll have this and my boyfriend will have that’ but was only able to order for myself? I won’t even mention the amount of times I wanted to kiss you because at this point I’ve lost count…”

Cas squeezes Dean’s thigh, lips stretched wide in a tight grin. “You want all of that?”

“And more. A hell of a lot more.”

“Then… late is better than never, I suppose.”

Dean blinks, “What?”

He resumes stroking his leg, smiling so openly all his teeth are on display. “I’m saying,” he continues, “that if you want to do all that, I find myself being… amenable. We can even start now.”

“Are you sure?” Dean asks, too experienced with his luck that he knows he needs more. “Is this what you want? You said you were –“

“Content,” he says, “But not happy. Doing all of what you described – and more – will make me very happy.”

Dean smiles, “Really?”

“Ecstatic.” It’s so deadpan, so blasé, and completely incongruent with the mood of the room that Dean cannot stop the snort escaping from his lips. Followed by hiccupped giggles and, finally, laughter that echoes in the tiny space. Joined by Cas, their voices swell to fill the room. Until Dean snatches Cas’s collar with his wet fist and drags him in for a kiss. Closes his eyes and savors the taste of the other man, taking note of every sensation he guessed right and scribbling over what he got wrong with the parts he never could have imagined.

In the midst of their makeout session, when Cas presses their foreheads together and laughs about not needing a shower after all. Because Dean hauled him into the bathtub with him despite protests, water leaking onto the floor. When he can, without guilt, lose himself in Cas’s eyes, Dean remembers the werewolf from yesterday. Remembers what he thought freedom meant, and how the monster hadn’t the first clue what it actually was.

Freedom is not power. Freedom is being yourself. Freedom is the ability to show others the deepest parts of yourself and have them stay and love you for it. Freedom is acceptance.

Freedom is the way Cas’s fingers scratch at the nape of his neck. Freedom is Cas pressing lazy kisses against his cheek. Freedom is the way their feet knock into each other on the edge of the porcelain bathtub.

Dean, for the first time in his life, feels free.

Epilogue:

Midnight is a terrible hour to crave bacon. Time cannot stop Dean’s watering mouth or his growling stomach. He disentangled himself from Cas and blindly pieced together an outfit that, in the hallway’s clinical lighting, included his cowboy pajama bottoms, Cas’s dried shirt, and his robe. Dean shrugs and carries on his way towards the kitchen, hoping for a quick trip.

Seeing Sam hunched over at the table crushes that idea. He perks up at Dean’s entrance, faltering. Rises for a second before thinking better, instead fiddling with his coffee mug. “Dean.”

“…Sam.” Unsure, Dean’s own hands run rampant. Closes the robe and hides Cas’s shirt, tying a neat, little bow and securing it tighter. Then he unravels it and lets the robe swing open like curtains. “What’re you doing up?”

He shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep anymore. You?”

“Hungry.” Dean winces, the image of Sam struggling underneath him flashing into view. It fades almost as instantly as it arrived, replaced with a more annoyed looking brother. Mouth pulled taut like a bowstring, aimed and ready. Dean glances at the mug for safety. “You make enough for the class?”

“Check the pot.”

Shuffling over he sees more than enough coffee inside for him. So, he pulls out two mugs and prepares them. Three teaspoons of sugar in one, four tablespoons in the other. A dash of milk on the left, because Cas thinks it muddies the taste of the coffee. “Thanks.”

“Dean…”

His tone draws a quiet sigh from Dean. Settles the hunger that dominated his stomach and replaces it with a slight nausea. “Sam,” he says, “can you not…”

“We need to talk about it,” Sam continues, “Please, Dean, I –“

“We will.”

Sam pauses, stunned. Dean turns around and tamps down the laugh bubbling up. Hard given how rare Sam’s jaw drops so far. In the blink of an eye Sam shakes his surprise off. “What?”

“We will,” Dean repeats, leaning on the counter, “I promise. I just… I’m not ready, yet.”

It’s not the best answer. Sam doubts him, evident by the gleam in his eye. And the follow up, “Are you ever gonna be ready?”

His eyes never strayed from Dean’s face. If he dropped his gaze a few inches Sam would see Cas’s shirt. But he didn’t. Dean can rewrap the robe and pretend it’s not on him.

Except Dean hadn’t the urge. Instead he draws attention to it, rubbing the hem between his fingers. “Hopefully soon… Cas and I had a good talk and – and well, maybe in the morning I might be okay enough that we can sit and talk about it, or whatever…”

Sam finally looks at his shirt. Then at Dean with a subtle awe. He braces for an onslaught of feelings, exactly what Dean tried avoiding. Why he thought using Cas as a distraction from talking about those was a moment of delirium. Dean sips at his mug, hiding ruddy cheeks behind the rim.

Thankfully Sam says nothing. Instead mirroring his sip. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

Dean nods, drumming his fingers on the counter. There’s kindness in how Sam offers the escape tunnel, even though so much is brewing under the surface. A rarity that Dean never expected. He should take it.

But there’s more. Dean figures ripping the band-aid off all at once is better than peeling it and feeling every single hair torn from his arm.

“I think I’m gonna stop hunting,” he says. Sam spits a mouthful of coffee into his mug, choking. “For a while,” Dean quickly explains, “Like, maybe a few months?”

Coughing, Sam wipes at his lips. “Is this because of the werewolf hunt?”

“Yes?” Dean says, “No – I mean… Look, it’s not because I’m too scared to get back into the game because of what happened but I am kind of… skittish?” He frowns, staring at the light brown pool in his hands. “Like I’m running on empty and… and I don’t think I have enough in the tank. That’s what happened yesterday, but thank God there was a little more in yours to get me to the next rest stop! Who knows what might happen on the next one so I… I’m making the adult decision and taking myself out of the game before the big loss.” Dean gulps at his coffee, throat suddenly dry. “But not forever,” he adds, “Long enough to sort things out… do the stuff we said we were gonna do when the Chuck mess ended. Maybe go on a road trip or, ah… give Cas a proper first date –“

“First date?” Sam croaks, a tiny snort escaping, “Think you two’ve past that by a few years. Third honeymoon, maybe.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Yuck it up… but I’m not the only one who can use this opportunity to focus on important things… things that you’ve been neglecting… when’s the last time you and Eileen had any quality time together?” Sam answers with a blush. “Thought so… at least I’ve had two honeymoons, or so you think.”

“Shut up,” Sam huffs, drinking his coffee again. His gaze drifts from Dean over to the door, and the fluster drains off his face. Replaced with a more gleeful expression, lips curling. “Hey Cas,” he sings, “how’s it going?”

Dean accepts all the awkward energy Sam shed. His grip on the coffee mug falters when he sees Cas. Dressed in a stolen pair of sweatpants and nothing else. “Sam, Dean,” he yawns, shuffling closer. Cas squints at the untouched mug on the counter, “Is this for me?”

“Yeah,” Dean says, handing it over, “just the way you like.” Cas purrs, kissing Dean’s cheek before sipping. Sam's chuckles accompany his approval. “It wasn’t too much of a problem…”

“So, Cas,” Sam starts, “what got you out of bed?”

Cas scratches his head and presses against Dean. Slides an arm around Dean’s waist. “Pee,” he says, “and then I noticed Dean wasn’t there so…” If Cas didn’t drive the point home clear enough Dean would worry after his brother’s intelligence. He feels Cas’s chin rest on his shoulder. “Why did you get up?”

Dean gestures at the stove. “Hungry.”

“Hmm… I can eat.” Cas taps on Dean’s stomach, pushing off. He moves and joins Sam at the table. “Whatever you were going to make yourself, make double?”

“Triple?” Sam adds, “All this talk of food is making me hungry.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Dean flicks the stove on, dropping the pan on the active burner. His hunger returned, aided by the easy conversation flowing between the three. Cas settles across from Sam asking a question about something he read. The conversation quickly devolves into nerd speak, Dean throwing quips in every few seconds.

He lays a strip of bacon down, and then another one. And another one. Greases a second pan and cracks an egg on the surface, tossing one half of the shell at Sam and the next half at Cas. They retaliate by pelting him when he retreats to the refrigerator for more bacon. Dean doesn’t care that they hit, nor that he steps on one and has to spend time between the eggs frying and the bacon cooking to pick pieces of eggshell off his heel. What he cares about sits giggling at the table, watching while he cleans.

Dean is happy.

#supernatural #spn #supernatural trope celebration 2020 #destiel #destiel fic #deancas #deancas fic #dean winchester #castiel

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tigerstrikesasteroidnetwork · 4 years

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LA / Hoofprint

Left: Shanna Waddell, detail from SONY (oil, sand, plaster, paper, spray paint, cigarettes, and flowers on canvas), 2018. Right: Laura Letinsky, untitled image from the series Time’s Assignation, and Other Polaroids 1997-2007.

Hoofprint March 14 – April 5, 2020 Opening Reception: Friday, March 14, 7-10 pm

LOS ANGELES, CA – Tiger Strikes Asteroid Los Angeles is pleased to present Hoofprint, a group show of works in painting, photography, sculpture, and film, explores the meaning of presence through its afterimage, the trace. Emerging with the latency of a heavy heel, the pressure of a knee, a smudge, a wrapper, or a rind, traces are among the most unselfconscious and revealing forms of marks. Tied together through the Japanese concept of mono-no-aware—roughly, sensitivity to ephemera—these works, by artists Laura Letinsky, Shanna Waddell, Zach Trow, Theresa Sterner, and J. Makary, share an attunement to what is left behind.

Letinsky’s iconic images of dining tables, kitchen counters, and emptied-out apartments register evidence of lives lived—meals cooked and eaten, candles lit and extinguished, vows made, homes abandoned. Her photographs, at times celebratory, but more often wistful and elegiac, are composed in ways that suggest uncanny interference. Collaborating sculptors Trow and Sterner likewise take on the ephemerality of cast-offs, like nectarine rinds and shopping bags, giving them a ghostly permanence in their frozen, sculptural forms. Working with traces left by people in public spaces, Trow and Sterner dialogue with the historical work of Isamu Noguchi, artist and designer of civic gardens and plazas, and elevate the inconsequential and the overlooked with a patient and attentive formalism.

Drawing on Southern California beach culture, painter Waddell uses the traces of sun-worshipping bodies on towels to leave an enduring, dark record of the obsessions, addictions, and frivolities that play out on the sand. Her works from this series strike at the heart of our ambivalence to nature—our own, and the wild, deep reaches of the Pacific creeping at the shore. In Makary’s film assemblage for this show, the artist shares her discovery of the burned books of Irish author Brian Moore, pages of which were found blowing on the beach in front of his former home after the catastrophic Woolsey Fire in November 2018. Makary will also collaborate with Sterner and Trow to document, on 16mm film, the performative activation of their sculptural piece commissioned for Hoofprint.

A screening of films programmed by J. Makary and Eli Horwatt will take place in conjunction with the exhibition.

A professor at the University of Chicago since 1994, Laura Letinsky earned her BFA in photography and ceramics from the University of Manitoba, Winnipeg, Canada, where she grew up. In 1991, she received her MFA in photography from Yale University’s School of Art. Recent exhibitions include To Want For Nothing, Yancey Richardson Gallery, New York, and Document, Chicago; PHotoESPAÑA, Madrid; Neither Natural nor Necessary, Mumbai Photography Festival, Mumbai, India; Producing Subjects, MIT, Cambridge, MA; The Telephone Game, Basel Design; IIl Form and Void Full, the Photographers Gallery, London; and Laura Letinsky: Still Life, Denver Art Museum, CO. Previous shows include the Getty Museum, Los Angeles; the Canadian Museum of Contemporary Photography; the Museum of Modern Art, New York, NY; Casino Luxembourg; and the Renaissance Society, Chicago. Her work is in collections at the Art Institute of Chicago; Hermes Collection, Paris; the Microsoft Art Collection, Seattle, WA; the John Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles; the Musée des beaux-arts, Montreal; the Museum of Fine Art, Houston; and the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. She is represented by Yancey Richardson Gallery, New York, and she shows with Galerie m Bochum in Bochum, Germany. Her grants and awards include the Canada Council International Residency; Kunstlerhaus Bethanien, Berlin; The Canada Council Project Grants; the Anonymous Was a Woman Award; and the John Simon Guggenheim Fellowship. She has published eight books of her photography.

With an experimental spirit, educator and painter Shanna Waddell looks to visionaries and aspirational communities as research for her artistic practice. Waddell’s pursuit of beauty and utopic possibilities has resulted in bodies of work that memorialize fallen public figures and religious cults and their leaders, such as Heaven’s Gate, Satan, and superstars Kurt Cobain and River Phoenix. In her current work, Waddell looks to female forms to embody utopic visions of what art making can be within diverse artistic practices. Her solo and two-person exhibitions include Thomas Erben Gallery, New York; Galerie La Croix at Art Center College of Design, in Pasadena, CA; Ms. Barbers, Los Angeles; and the University of the Arts, Philadelphia. Noted group exhibitions include Torrance Art Museum, Torrance, CA; Itd los angeles; and QUEENS LA. Waddell holds an MFA from the Tyler School of Art in Philadelphia.

Theresa Sterner and Zach Trow are sculptors living in Los Angeles who have been working collaboratively since 2016. Together they have been artists-in-residence at Coast Time, in Lincoln City, Oregon; the Cooper Union in New York; and the Yucca Valley Material Lab. They have given public lectures at the Cooper Union in New York and Central Park Gallery in Los Angeles, and have exhibited at the Brand Library and Art Center in Glendale, CA; the SPRING/BREAK Art Show in Los Angeles; and the Torrance Art Museum in Torrance, CA, a solo show for which they received a Foundation for Contemporary Art Emergency Grant in 2019. Sterner received a BFA in sculpture and metals/jewelry from the University of Oregon in 2009 and an MFA in sculpture from Tyler School of Art in Philadelphia in 2014. Her work has been exhibited at A.I.R. Gallery and Present Company, both in New York; the Every Woman Biennial, Other Places Art Fair, GAIT, and Tiger Strikes Asteroid in Los Angeles; the Woodmere Art Museum in Philadelphia; SOMA in Mexico City; and venues in New York, Los Angeles, Philadelphia, and Portland, OR. She has had residencies at Ox-Bow School of Art in Saugatuck, MI; PLAYA in Summerlake, OR; and the Stripa Historic Iron Ore Mine in Bergslagen, Sweden. Trow earned dual degrees in Japanese and sculpture at the University of Oregon in 2009 and his MFA in Sculpture at Hunter College in 2014. In 2013, he completed a study-abroad program at the Universität der Künste Berlin, Germany, and mounted a two-person exhibition at Greusslich Contemporary. In 2014, Trow was awarded a full scholarship to SOMA Summer Mexico City and exhibited at Bikini Wax during his stay. In 2015, he was awarded the Fountainhead Teaching Fellowship at Virginia Commonwealth University in Sculpture, and in 2017 he was a fellowship recipient at Lighthouse Works on Fishers Island, NY. His solo exhibitions include Reynolds Gallery in Richmond, VA, and Doppler Gallery in Portland, OR. He has participated in exhibitions in Philadelphia, New York, and Los Angeles.

J. Makary’s ﬁlms have screened at the Athens International Film & Video Festival, the ICA Philadelphia, the Slought Foundation in Philadelphia, Mana Contemporary in Chicago and Jersey City, Satellite Miami, SPACES Cleveland, the SPRING/BREAK Art Show in Los Angeles, Human Resources LA, and the American Dance Festival, among other places. At the heart of her practice is an approach she calls “feral editing,” a filmmaking style that weaves choreographic impulses into narrative and documentary ﬁlm practices with a bit of wildness and play. Originally trained as a writer and editor at the Medill School of Journalism at Northwestern University, she studied fine art at the University of Pennsylvania and earned an MFA in ﬁlm at Temple University in 2013. Makary was named a Pew Fellow in the Arts in 2013 and attended the Skowhegan School of Painting and Sculpture in 2014. She has been an artist-in-residence at RAIR Philly, the 18th Street Arts Center in Santa Monica, CA, and the Philadelphia Society for the Preservation of Landmarks. She is an associate editor for feminist film journal Another Gaze and is a member of Tiger Strikes Asteroid Los Angeles.

#hoofprint #tigerstrikesasteroid #tiger strikes asteroid

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rustynr · 7 years

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When I first moved to Boise some eight years ago, I assumed the Treasure Valley would be a musical wasteland, especially for metal. Having spent my life in San Francisco, Denver, Dallas, Phoenix, and other large cities, I could not fathom that Boise would have much to offer. As it turned out I had my head planted squarely up my elitist arse. The Treasure Valley is not only home to some amazing musicians and incredible bands, but the metal community is one of the strongest and most welcoming I have yet to experience. When Traitors Gate bassist Colby Dees reached out and asked if I would MC the Heavy Metal New Year’s Eve bash at The Knitting Factory I was floored and honored. It certainly turned out to be a memorable night featuring five of Boise’s best heavy bands and a large gathering of the Family in Black and Idaho Death Militia members.

Kicking off the night, Tulpaa took the stage first. For most in the crowd this was a first look at one of the Valley’s most intriguing new bands. Their sound meshes together elements of black and folk metal with nuances of many other things. It’s quite unique, as is a 7-piece metal band that features a cellist, a percussionist, male and female vocalists, as well as the usual array of guitars, drums, and bass. Fronted vocalists Raider Dean and Morkenna Fornjotsdottir, the band also features Hannah Maddox (percussion), Steve Chavez (guitar), Dean Gehrmann (bass), and drummer Marlon Roubideaux. The New Year’s show marked Tulpaa’s debut on the Knitting Factory stage, and one of their first with new cellist Will Reynolds. The band turned out an excellent show that included the set highlight, “Rotting in the Gallows.” with Morkenna and Hannah taking over vocal duties. Even the crowd sang along with that one. The rest of the set included; “Fires Die,” “Hallucinations,” “Manipulated,” and “Drought.”

The night also marked the return of Rise of the Fallen, performing their first show as a quartet. Over the fall the band stripped down to the core of vocalist Kegan Stucki, drummer Scott Mifflin, guitarist Daniel Rodriguez, and bassist Jeremy Franklin. No longer a two-guitar band, it put the onus on Rodriguez to deliver, and he did in high fashion. Rather than hearing holes in the sound without a second guitar, the band sounded clearer and stronger, with Franklin filling the void quite nicely. Rise of the Fallen also sounded tighter than I have ever heard them as they blazed through songs like “No Lord to Follow,” “Survivors Are We,” “Aisle 9,” “Project Society,” and “Politricks.” Stucki, as always, owned the crowd with his stage presence and personality.

Vault7 has been on a tear this year, including an opening slot with Anthrax this fall. They are also in the running to perform at Rock into Spring in Las Vegas later this year. Saturday night’s show marked the Boise debut for the band’s new bassist Paul Blair, who added some much needed punch to the band’s sound. Taking nothing away from the stellar performances of drummer Dennis Goodman, guitarist Brian Hoyt, and frontman Nathan Polnow, Blair’s debut truly stood out. The guys have finished recording their debut album, and hope to have it ready for mass consumption later this month. Fans got a heavy dose of the record at the show as the band ripped through the cuts; “Shadow of Vacancy,” “Soulgo,” “Fear Nothing,” “Digital Heart,” “Too Long on our Own,” and the Sabbath-esque “SLBS.” They also performed “Deception” and “Come to the Deep,” both of which have aired on Metal Nation Radio. Vault7 continued the running theme of the night, being that every band on the bill delivered an amazingly tight performance. As one fan stated: “Every band brought their A game.”

Next up were our X Fest Battle of the Bands winner, Traitors Gate, all tuxed up for the occasion. The guys are just about ready to drop their debut album (which is excellent, by the way), and they had a couple dozen copies on hand for the show. They played much of the record Saturday night, including fan favorites like “Killing Fields,” “Static,” “Dear Ms. Kelly,” “Plausible Deniability,” and “Acceptable Losses.” The rhythm section of drummer Tim Allan and bassist Colby Dees were dialed in tightly, with Dees bass in particular really cutting through. Guitarist Ken Mansfield delivered as only he can, despite getting a little muffled in the mix. Vocalist Mister Y prowled the stage in his charismatic and menacing manner, winding the crowd up and delivering a sense of excitement and celebration to the evening.

Closing the evening out were Treasure valley stalwarts, Black Tooth Grin, who always deliver a crushing set of riff driven revelry. Vocalist Justin Arthur knows how to work a crowd and Saturday was just another night at the office. Guitarist Jeremy Schmidt delivered a metric shit ton of heavy riffage, with bassist Lou Miller and drummer Derek Sanford cementing the foundation. The guys brought up their better halves on stage for the midnight countdown and even broke out a cover of Corrosion of Conformity’s “13 Angels” dedicated to our own Neeka Rodriguez. After opening with “Witch Hunt,” BTG dug out a set of classics including; “This Fucking Bullet,” “Shine On,” “Season of the Crow,” “Drifter,” “Plastic Jesus,” and “Ghost.”

Every time I step into The Knit lately, it seems Gary Pike has made improvements to the building and the sound, and things just continue to get better for all the bands and fans that pass through its doors and across its stage. Huge thanks to all the bands, all the fans, and the mighty Knitting Factory Staff, as well as our own photographer Katarzyna Cepek who captured many memorable moments of the night.

On behalf of Metalholic Magazine, Metal Nation Radio, and Idaho Music Scene I wish everyone a Happy New Year!

Click on any photo below to view as a slideshow.

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Idaho’s Heavy Metal Scene Comes Together for New Years Bash When I first moved to Boise some eight years ago, I assumed the Treasure Valley would be a musical wasteland, especially for metal.

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learningrendezvous · 4 years

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Music

HEATED MELODIES

Directed by Nassim Nakad

In the hottest place on earth, making music, even playing the blues, is a political and religious challenge!

Nassim Nakad's "Heated Melodies" poses the question of "What happens to an artistic community when a country's legal system is comprised of British Common Law, French and Egyptian Civil Law and Islamic Law?"

Music is a universal language. Composing it, producing it and performing it is a challenge that requires a lot of diligence. That is the art of the musician.

In some countries the difficulties are exacerbated by political and religious acceptance-rules & laws-which impact the ability of the musician to be an artist at all. Kuwait is one of the countries!

The music community in Kuwait is growing, but it remains mostly underground as it fights the cultural and government restrictions placed upon it. Not all music is welcomed in Kuwait.

While classical music is mostly accepted, the underground scene is packed with musicians and bands playing contemporary genres including Rock, Metal, Blues and more, and are comprised of members who have helped to highlight the issue by participating in this production.

As Wikipedia and Wikiislam explain, Kuwait law and the Sharia law struggle with an artistic society that is westernizing.

Heated Melodies highlights the challenges of such a society and the stereotyping of musicians and musical genres. The film additionally explores the difference between the acceptance of males vs. females within the context of religious beliefs and musical performance.

DVD / 2017 / 40 minutes

ROARING ABYSS

By Quino Pinero

Ethiopia has over eighty different cultures. With live recordings of music, this film is a voyage of discovery across mountains, deserts and forests to find the last interpreters of traditional Ethiopian music. It is a search for authenticity which is increasingly being pushed aside by electronics and mainstream culture...

A sound journey across the mountains, deserts and forests of Ethiopia and its cultural universe. Roaring Abyss will take you through an extensive and previously unpublished collection of music recordings of invaluable importance for the transmission and preservation of the African heritage.

Ethiopia's music scene is known for its distinctive genre of Ethio-Jazz, a blend of western musical sounds, Armenian introduced brass instruments, and Ethiopia's traditional folk and religious music. Most focus on Ethiopian music highlights the country's modern musical output, music that utilizes keyboards, synthesizers, and drum machines.

DVD (English & Amharic with English Subtitles) / 2017 / 87 minutes

BARNEGIE HALL

Hosted by Verlon Thompson

Celebrated songwriter and virtuoso picker Verlon Thompson sits down with some of the most inspiring and talented writer/performers in the world for honest conversation, laughter and musical insights in an extraordinary series of 13 musical journeys.

Each episode is intimately filmed at Barnegie Hall, a very special location with its heart rooted in Country and Americana music. The 13 program series explores how some of the greatest hits of all time were crafted and includes personal musical performances by the guests, as well as intimate duets performed along with host Verlon Thompson.

2 DVDs / 2016 / 390 minutes

BORBETOMAGUS - A POLLOCK OF SOUND

By Jef Mertens

A Pollock of Sound is the first feature-length documentary about the legendary improv / noise group Borbetomagus.

Filmmaker Jef Mertens brings a raw, urgent, and unpolished vision focusing on a band that has spent almost four decades defining and redefining not just their music, but the boundaries of music itself.

Band members Don Dietrich, Donald Miller, and Jim Sauter tell their story with the help of artists, writers, photographers, and filmmakers that include noted critic Byron Coley, drummer Chris Corsano, guitarist Thurston Moore, groundbreaking Japanese noise unit Hijokaidan, and Switzerland's masters of "cracked electronics," Voice Crack. Includes never-before-seen archival footage, amazing photographic finds, and previously unreleased recordings.

Borbetomagus formed in 1979 when saxophone players Jim Sauter and Don Dietrich joined with electric guitarist Donald Miller. Bass guitarist Adam Nodelman was briefly a member, and they have occasionally collaborated with others. Their aggressive music has been described as a huge, overpowering, take-no-prisoners mass of sound.

DVD (Color, Black and White) / 2016 / 63 minutes

FINDING JOSEPH I: THE HR FROM BAD BRAINS DOCUMENTARY

Directed by James Lathos

"Finding Joseph I" is a documentary film chronicling the eccentric life of punk rock reggae singer, Paul "HR" Hudson from Bad Brains. The charismatic front-man's explosive live performances helped pioneer hardcore punk while delivering an enlightening message of positive mental attitude.

HR's heavy devotion to the Rastafarian faith guided him in a spiritual direction, leaving the band several times to explore his love for reggae music.

Over the years HR's increasingly unpredictable and abnormal behavior has many convinced that he his suffering from mental illness. Finding Joseph I illustrates the true story behind the legendary lead singer's life, career and struggles with never before seen archival footage, photography and exclusive interviews.

DVD (Color) / 2016 / 91 minutes

JUDY COLLINS - A LOVE LETTER TO SONDHEIM

Music history would not be the same without the work of Stephen Sondheim. Included in his work, Sondheim scored A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, Company, Follies, A Little Night Music, Sweeney Todd, Sunday in the Park with George, and Into the Woods, and he wrote the lyrics for West Side Story and Gypsy.

Music history would not be the same without the work of Judy Collins who hit the charts with such songs as Turn Turn Turn, Send in the Clowns, Hard Lovin' Loser, Both Sides Now, Chelsea Morning just to name a few.

It was pure magic when Collins decided to perform the work of Sondheim in a live performance of love and admiration... and when directors Pierre Lamoureux and Francois Lamoureux recorded the performance, that in itself made history, too!

"A Love Letter to Stephen Sondheim" was filmed in May 2016 at The Boettcher Concert Hall in Denver, CO. Collins took the audience through Sondheim's remarkable treasure-trove of music, interweaving stories of Broadway with her personal anecdotes.

All orchestrations are by Jonathan Tunick, who has been orchestrating Stephen Sondheim's musicals for decades. Tunicks's orchestration was used by Collins for "Send in the Clowns, " and brought Sondheim his only chart topping song in his esteemed history.

Collins is joined on the program by the Greeley Philharmonic Orchestra, conducted by Glen Cortese.

DVD / 2016 / 90 minutes

SAD VACATION: THE LAST DAYS OF SID AND NANCY

The documentary on the lives and deaths of Sid Vicious and Nancy Spungen.

Sad Vacation is an up close and personal account of the tumultuous and stormy relationship between Sid Vicious and Nancy Spungen and how it ended in Room 100 of the Chelsea Hotel.

Directed by Danny Garcia (The Rise and Fall of The Clash, Looking for Johnny), this films holds no punches and reveals the facts through personal friends, insiders and witnesses providing a first hand account of Sid and Nancy's mysterious deaths.

Includes interviews with Sylvain Sylvain (New York Dolls), Bob Gruen, Walter Lure (The Heatbreakers), Leee Black Childers, Howie Pyro (D Generation), Kenny Gordon (Pure Hell), Cynthia Ross (The B-Girls) and many more.

DVD / 2016 / 95 minutes

SCENESTERS: MUSIC, MAYHEM & MELROSE AVE. A DOCUMENTARY 1985-1990

Directed by Desi Benjamin

Many music scenes are best known for a type of music that emanated from that scene. 1985-1990 Los Angeles was very different...

SCENESTERS captures the moment in time when Punk, Glam, Hard Rock, Alternative, Garage, and Metal all collided and meshed in Los Angeles in the mid 80s.

Featured are the first-hand accounts of people who were completely submerged in the culture... people who changed the rules of fashion, set the scene, and made Melrose Avenue ground zero for bands like Guns N Roses, Jane's Addiction, and The Red Chili Peppers.

This ushered in a lifestyle of hard living and lots of partying. Hear from those SCENESTERS who lived through it all to tell tales of the legendary LA scene 1985-1990. Among those interviewed are: Paul Roessler, Bruce Duff, Bernie Bernstein, Bryan Forsythe, Taime Downe, Greg Steele, Susan Hyatt, Abby Travis, Brian Grillo, Kevin Kipnis, Josh Feilds, Debra Diament, Dukey Flyswatter, Pat, Munzingo, Chreistopher Thorn, Joseph Brooks, and Micheal Stewart, all participants in the scene... all scenesters themselves...

Intertwined within these extensive interviews is a soundtrack that digs deep into the music, providing an inside listen to this most unique time in rock genre development and evolution. Included are

The Fell Popes-2am @ 9th and grand T.S.O.L.-Sound Of Laughter Motley Crue-Live Wire Van Halen-316 AC-DC-Let There Be Rock The Ramones-I Wanna Be Sedated The Cult-She Sells Sactuary Wire-A Touching Display Elvis Costello and the Attractions-Pump It Up B-52's-Rock Lobster Britny Fox-Long Way To Love Specimen-The Beauty of Poison Faster Pussycat-Where There Is A Whip New York Dolls-Personality Crisis The Ramones-Blitzkrieg Bop The Dead Boys-Sonic Reducer Hanoi Rocks-Tragedy Aerosmith-No Surprise The Germs-Caught In My Eye The Sex Pistols-God Save The Queen Devo-That's Good Poison-Talk Dirty To Me Depeche Mode-Everything Counts Culture Club-i'll Tumble 4 U Bauhaus-Bella Lugosi Dead Celebrity Skin-Hello New York Dolls-Pills

DVD (Color, Black and White) / 2016 / 81 minutes

TUPAC ASSASSINATION: BATTLE FOR COMPTON (2017)

Directed by Richard Bond

Were the deaths of Tupac and Biggie casualties of a larger crime? Two of the most infamous murder cases in music history are finally explained 20 years after the happened.

The unsolved murders of Tupac Shakur and Christopher "Biggie Smalls" Wallace still stir the public's imagination after 20 years. Yet law enforcement has been at a standstill to produce results. The producers of "American Federale" and the first two "Assassination" films, finally unravel the tangled cases and expose not only who may have done it, but also the conspiracy underneath why these cases have never seen justice.

"Battle For Compton" is the story of "The Machine"; a group of high powered individuals with a very dark secret they killed to keep, and have spent the last 20 years hiding-hoping that one day it will all go away.

This 2017 release is filled with new federal and local government documents, as well as interviews with formerly involved Federal and Local Prosecutors and LAPD Detectives, as well as new witness interviews and unseen Shakur footage, "Battle for Compton" explains how the untimely deaths of Shakur and Wallace were ultimately part of the destruction left in the wake of The Machine and its participants.

This is the story that over a dozen more murders are related to; the story people at the top levels of the justice system do not want you to hear.

Features Tupac Shakur, Biggie Smalls, Suge Knight.

DVD / 2016 / 138 minutes

ZYDECO CROSSROADS: A TALE OF TWO CITIES

From Filmmaker Robert Mugge and WXPN "World Cafe" host David Dye comes a musical journey from Philadelphia to Lafayette and exploration into Louisiana's Creole music community!

During the latter half of 2014, music filmmaker Robert Mugge and his partner Diana Zelman worked with executives Roger LaMay and Bruce Warren of Philadelphia public radio station WXPN and their "World Cafe" host and producer David Dye to document and assist WXPN's exploration of the Creole culture of Southwest Louisiana through its yearlong Zydeco Crossroads project.

The film portion of the project documented concerts by zydeco artists C.J. Chenier and Rosie Ledet in the Philadelphia area and followed XPN staff to Lafayette, Louisiana where concerts were staged featuring additional top zydeco artists Buckwheat Zydeco, Nathan Williams, Chubby Carrier, Rockin' Dopsie, Jr., Major Handy, Creole United, Soul Creole, Lil' Nate Williams, Chris Ardoin, and Corey Arceneaux, along with collaborating Mississippi blues artist Vasti Jackson.

Also documented were David Dye's interviews with most of the key performing artists and with zydeco club owner Sid Williams, zydeco historian Michael Tisserand, and zydeco deejay Herman Fuselier of Lafayette public radio station KRVS.

DVD / 2015 / 87 minutes

GIVING UP THE GHOSTS: CLOSING TIME AT DOC'S MUSIC HALL

Robert Mugge's feature-length music documentary, GIVING UP THE GHOSTS: Closing Time at Doc's Music Hall, explores the twin careers of respected physician and musician Dr. John Peterson and the music and arts venue he owned and helped operate in downtown Muncie, Indiana from 1992 to 2012.

The film centers around a final music hall concert by Doc and his house band performing Doc's original songs along with covers of assorted jazz (Shadowfax), rock (The Doors, The Animals), soul (The Temptations, The Isley Brothers), and pop (Paul Simon, Lionel Richie, Judy Garland) favorites.

In interviews, Doc and others discuss his early success in the music business, his later innovative merging of traditional and alternative medicines, and his purchase and restoration of a downtown Muncie building both to provide an outlet for the work of young artists and musicians and to help invigorate Muncie's abandoned downtown.

The film also includes discussion of the ghosts many claim to have seen and heard in the building over the years (presumed to be deceased actors who performed in the city's multiple theaters during earlier decades) and a ceremony intended to "free" them, now that the venue was shutting down.

DVD / 2014 / 80 minutes

IT'S GONNA BLOW!!! SAN DIEGO'S MUSIC UNDERGROUND 1986-1996

By Bill Perrine

A film about community, hype, and musical incest.

It's Gonna Blow!!! is the story of San Diego's legendary 1990's music scene and its brief, ill-fated reign as the 'next Seattle'. A motley community of musicians with a do-it-yourself ethos and an aversion to mainstream culture develop their idiosyncratic sounds in the isolation of San Diego, but soon find themselves at the center of bidding wars and expense account lunches. What happens when the outcasts become the next big thing?

Drawing from previously unseen performance footage and interviews with over sixty musicians, promoters and artists such as John Reis (Rocket from the Crypt, Drive Like Jehu), Justin Pearson (The Locust, Swing Kids), Rob Crow (Pinback, Heavy Vegetable), Luke Jenner (The Rapture), Pall Jenkins (Three Mile Pilot, Black Heart Procession), Tom Delonge (Blink-182), Mario Rubalcaba (Clikatat Ikatowi, Off!), the film explores the birth of San Diego's innovative post-hardcore scene and its early 90s 'Next Seattle' hype.

Featuring interviews and performances from Drive Like Jehu, Rocket from the Crypt, Trumans Water, the Locust, Three Mile Pilot, Heavy Vegetable, Blink 182, Crash Worship, No Knife, Heroin, Antioch Arrow, Boilermaker, Clikatat Ikatowi, Unbroken, Fishwife, Tanner, Physics, Pitchfork, Creedle, Swing Kids, Sub Society, Neighborhood Watch, Inch, Funeral March, Amenity and others.

DVD / 2014 / 86 minutes

45RPM

Charlie, an artist who seeks a connection between her work and her estranged father's music, teams up with Louie, an obsessive record collector from Memphis.

Together they begin an exhaustive search for a rare 45 RPM recording from the 1960's Arkansas scene that takes them on both a journey across the seldom-explored landscape of the new Old South as well as a trip through musical inspiration and influence.

Features Liza Burns, Jason Thompson, Candyce Hinkle, Natalie Canerday

DVD (Color) / 2013 / 96 minutes

BEATS: THE TRUE LIFE STORY OF DR. DRE

Andre Romelle Young began his career selling mixed tapes out of his 2nd floor bedroom window in Compton California. Customers would page him then wait until a plastic bucket was lowered for them to put $5 into. The bucket would return with a mix tape inside. It was crude but effective for the beat master who's sound would change the face of West Coast Rap.

Today Dr. Dre is a legend who's beats were so dynamic a line of head phones under his name and trademark are the must have item for any DJ serious about their craft.

In this film you will meet the former Compton native who's creativity has inspired a generation and set a new standard in audio sound.

DVD / 2013 / 60 minutes

CALEXICO - FLOR DE MUERTOS

Flor De Muertos is a meditative and celebratory journey into the rich borderlands culture between Tucson, Arizona and the towns of Nogales, Arizona and Nogales, Mexico. Director and Tucaon native Danny Vinik evokes the power and beauty of the Sonoran Desert and its people in this poetic exploration of life and death along the US/Mexico border.

The film begins with the traditional Day of the Dead celebration in a Nogales, Mexico cemetery and ends with Tucson's 20th All Souls Procession-when 20,000 locals turn out in costume and skull face to honor and dance with their dead. The procession culminates in a spectacular finale by Flam Chen, the world-renowned pyrotechnics troupe known for death-defying aerial feats.

Part documentary and part concert film, Flor De Muertos features a stunning performance by acclaimed Americana band Calexico at Tucson's historic Rialto Theatre, as well as interviews with legendary journalist Charles Bowden, journalist Margaret Regan, and artist Salvador Duran. The result is a striking commentary on failed US immigration policies set to an evocative Calexico soundtrack.

A love letter to the Sonoran region, Flor De Muertos will haunt your dreams.

DVD / 2011 / 87 minutes

ECHOTONE

Directed by Nathan Christ and photographed by Robert Garza

Internationally known as 'The Live Music Capital of the World,' Austin's music culture has led it to become one of the world's most sought-after destinations. As nearly two dozen high-rises pop up throughout the city amidst economic downfall, how does the working musician get along?

This lyrical documentary provides a telescopic view into the lives of Austin's vibrant young musicians as they grapple with questions of artistic integrity, commercialism, experimentation, and the future of their beloved city.

DVD / 2010 / 88 minutes

LIVE FROM TOKYO

A documentary about underground music.

A vivid look at Tokyo's music culture as a reflection of Japanese society and its relation to international music. Live from Tokyo takes the viewer through the back streets in Shinjuku, the intersections in Shibuya, the alleys in Koenji and all over Tokyo.

Tokyo's reputation for cutting edge innovation, makes it the perfect sample for addressing a new outlook on music culture as it explores this eccentric music culture set. Bands include DMBQ, Suishou no Fune, Muneomi Senju, Shintaro Miyazaki and more.

Performances and interviews with Japan's underground music scene including members of the Boredoms.

DVD (Japanese and English with English Subtitles) / 2010 / 88 minutes

FROM MAMBO TO HIP HOP

By Henry Chalfant

From Mambo to Hip Hop: A South Bronx Tale tells a story about the creative life of the South Bronx and the creation of the New York salsa sound. FEATURING: Angel Rodríguez, Benny Bonilla, Bobby Sanabria, Bom 5, Carlos "Charlie Chase" Mandes, Clemente "Kid Freeze" Moreno, Curtis "Caz" Brown, David Gonzalez, Mr. and Mrs. Salsa, Eddie Palmieri, Emma Rodríguez, Ray Barretto,, Willie Colón and more.

DVD / 2009 / 55 minutes

I NEED THAT RECORD

A feature documentary examining why over 3,000 independent record stores have closed across the U.S. in the past decade.

Guerilla filmmaker Brendan Toller unleashes I NEED THAT RECORD! THE DEATH (OR POSSIBLE SURVIVAL) OF THE INDEPENDENT RECORD STORE, "an elegy for a vanishing subculture...a lively, bittersweet film that examines-with caustic humor, brutal candor, and, ultimately, great affection-why roughly 3,000 indie record stores have closed across the nation over the past decade," (Johnathan Perry, Boston Globe). A tour-de-force tale of greed, media consolidation, homogenized radio, big box stores, downloading, and technological shifts in the music industry told through candid interviews, crestfallen record store owners, startling statistics, and eye-popping animation. Fat cats or our favorite record stores? You decide.

Featuring: IAN MACKAYE, NOAM CHOMSKY, MIKE WATT, THURSTON MOORE, LENNY KAYE (Patti Smith), CHRIS FRANTZ (Talking Heads), GLENN BRANCA, PATTERSON HOOD (Drive By Truckers), PAT CARNEY (Black Keys) , LEGS MCNEIL, BOB GRUEN, BP HELIUM, and many indie record stores across the U.S. of A!

DVD / 2009 / 77 minutes

RETURN, THE: THE N DUEP HEALING CEREMONY

When every gesture has a meaning...Inside African Healing Ceremony that few have ever seen...

In the African worldview, dance is a conduit of individual and community healing. African conceptualizations of illness and health integrate social, spiritual, physical and mental realms all of which are impacted by trauma.

This film reveals the healing ritual called the N'Deup Healing Ceremony. Every gesture has a meaning: the dances, the millet, the beat of the drums together with the litanies pronounced by the priestess. In the indigenous belief system it is known that the family and community collaborate with the N'Deupkaat to heal the patient.

This is a rare opportunity to witness and learn about the healing ceremony that very few outsiders have been privileged to witness.

DVD / 2009 / 31 minutes

Directed by Benjamin Franzen

Copyright Criminals examines the creative and commercial value of musical sampling, including the related debates over artistic expression, copyright law, and (of course) money.

This documentary traces the rise of hip-hop from the urban streets of New York to its current status as a multi-billion-dollar industry. For more than thirty years, innovative hip-hop performers and producers have been re-using portions of previously recorded music in new, otherwise original compositions. When lawyers and record companies got involved, what was once referred to as a "borrowed melody" became a "copyright infringement."

DVD / 2008 / 54 minutes

INSIDE BOB DYLAN'S JESUS YEARS: BUSY BEING BORN AGAIN

Inside Bob Dylan's Jesus Years is an insiders view into Dylan's "Born Again" transformation with rare photos, unearthed interviews, and exclusive live concert footage from 1978-1981. Once called "Dylan's God Awful Gospel" by his most loyal fans, Bob Dylan's "Jesus Years" are today regarded as among the best of his career.

In late 1978, Bob Dylan fell into the Arms of the Lord through the Vineyard Christian Fellowship Church. In his first-ever interview, Dylan's Bible class teacher, Pastor Bill Dwyer, details Bob Dylan's embrace of Jesus Christ and Christianity. Dylan then made three Gospel albums, winning a Grammy for Gotta Serve Somebody. However, Dylan's radical new direction alienated fans and enraged critics as he preached evangelical messages from the Book of Revelation.

DVD / 2008 / 120 minutes

KOERNER, RAY & GLOVER - BLUES, RAGS & HOLLERS

Directed by Tony Glover

Koerner, Ray & Glover was an historically notable group of three blues musicians from Minneapolis, Minnesota: "Spider" John Koerner on guitar and vocals, Dave "Snaker" Ray on guitar and vocals, and Tony "Little Sun" Glover on harmonica. They were notable figures of the revival of folk music and blues in the 1960s.

This Tony Glover directed 1986 documentary contains performances, interviews and rare archival footage of the acoustic blues trio, as well as '95 and '07 chapter updates, and 9 bonus live performances from '91-'99. It's the story of three notable American music originals, told with characteristic wit, grit and irreverence by those who lived it.

The original film has been updated by Glover with album-by-album postscripts, 10 full-length performances, and more. It also includes special appearances by Willie Murphy and Bill Hinkley.

DVD / 2007 / 118 minutes

WAGES OF SPIN, THE

Payola! As the dirty business of making hits and selling records went on everyone had their hands out.

The Wages of Spin chronicles the Philadelphia music scene from 1952-1963 taking a comprehensive look at the creation, growth and popularity of Bandstand. From Bandstand's concept and creation to the rise of the iconic Dick Clark and a true national phenomenon, The Wages of Spin looks behind the curtain at the inner workings of the music industry and the people who were involved, told by the people who lived it, the performers, dancers and those waiting in the wings.

The music industry was by no means a paragon of American business ethics; characterized by underhanded practices, conflicts of interest, and most notoriously, Payola! As the dirty business of making hits and selling records went on everyone had their hands out. Clark emerged at a unique time in American cultural and economic history, saw an unprecedented opportunity and exploited it. Talent was a secondary consideration in the system of graft and legalized corruption that prevailed at the time.

DVD / 2007 / 70 minutes

BOB DYLAN - 1966 WORLD TOUR: THE HOME MOVIES

There are moments in music history that have impact far beyond the expected or predictable. This film documents one...

Rare footage of the 1966 World Tour where Bob Dylan traded in his acoustic guitar for the hard-edged sound of an electric one. As history recalls, the change was not received well.

With a set of drums and an 8mm color home movie camera, Mickey Jones toured the world in 1966 with Bob Dylan and The Band. He filmed "The tour that changed Rock and Roll forever" and the booing crowds, scathing reviews, stomping feet, and infamous catcall of "Judas!" in response to Dylan trading in his acoustic folk guitar for an electric.

Drummer-turned-actor Mickey Jones, with Director Joel Gilbert, chronicled the legendary Bob Dylan World Tour through his discovery of the home made films. This updated release includes new, exclusive interviews with Charlie Daniels, Johnny Rivers, Trini Lopez, soundman Richard Alderson, and new insights by Mickey Jones.

DVD / 2006 / 95 minutes

GET THRASHED! STORY OF THRASH METAL

Written and Directed by Rick Ernst

Featuring the biggest bands in heavy metal music, Get Thrashed! Covers the origins, cultural impact, and musical influence of Thrash Metal. Told first-hand by the members of bands like Metallica, Slayer, and Anthrax, as well as using raw, original show footage. With special features including bands from around the world, over 3 hours of content.

Featuring members of Metallica, Megadeth, Anthrax, Slayer, Testament, Exodus, Pantera, Slipknot, and more.

DVD (Color) / 2006 / 100 minutes

CANTORS - A FAITH IN SONG

The classic concert from 2003... Recorded live in Amsterdam's historic, 17th Century (1675), Portuguese Synagogue, the performance features three of the world's greatest cantors in a program of inspiring Jewish secular and religious song.

Amsterdam has long been at the crossroads of the two major streams of the Jewish faith: The Sephardic and Ashkenazi. It is therefore befitting that this magical performance took place there.

Performing with a 46 piece orchestra and 16 voice choir are Alberto Mizrahi of the renowned Anshe Emet Synagogue, Chicago, Naftali Herstik of Great Synagogue Jerusalem and Benzion Miller of Young Israel Beth-El of Borough Park, New York.

Full performances include: Overture Tumbalalaika Ki Lo Noeh Yedid Nefesh Yerushalayim Shel Zahav Sunrise, Sunset Kol Nidre Habet Mayn Yiddishe Mama Sephardic Medley Yo M'enamori D'un Aire Los Bilbilicos Cuando El Rey Ninmrodv'lirushalayim Ircho Hevenu Shalom Aleichem Tzena Tzena

DVD / 2003 / 75 minutes

LAST OF THE MISSISSIPPI JUKES

Featuring Morgan Freeman, Robert Mugge's acclaimed 2003 music documentary, LAST OF THE MISSISSIPPI JUKES, explores the fading traditions of rural Mississippi juke joints.

The blues was first played by itinerant musicians in juke joints on the edge of cotton plantations, later migrating into so-called urban lounges, and regional musicians still practice their craft and entertain their fans in both, as well as in modern blues clubs and casino lounges.

The film focuses, in particular, on two well-known Mississippi venues: Jimmy King's legendary Subway Lounge which, for three decades, operated in the basement of the historic, black-owned Summers Hotel in Jackson, MS; and actor Morgan Freeman's and attorney Bill Luckett's Ground Zero Blues Club, a contemporary blues venue in Clarksdale, MS that incorporates the design elements, menu, and spirit of a traditional juke.

The story of Mississippi jukes is told by blues historians Dick Waterman and Steve Cheseborough, by the club owners, by local politicians, and by participating musicians. The musicians also demonstrate styles of blues that originated in the Mississippi Delta and elsewhere around the state.

Performing at Ground Zero Blues Club in Clarksdale are Alvin Youngblood Hart with Sam Carr and Anthony Sherrod. Performing at the Subway Lounge in Jackson are Bobby Rush, Chris Thomas King, Vasti Jackson, Patrice Moncell, Eddie Cotton, Greg "Fingers" Taylor, Lucille, Abdul Rasheed, Levon Lindsey, J.T. Watkins, Dennis Fountain, Pat Brown, George Jackson, Steve Cheseborough, Casey Phillips, Jimmy King, David Hughes, Virgil Brawley, and the Subway's two alternating house bands: The House Rockers and The King Edward Blues Band.

LAST OF THE MISSISSIPPI JUKES looks at the buildings, the landscapes, and the communities where the blues began, and it examines how original blues traditions have evolved over time, carried into a new century by committed musicians and club owners, both in Mississippi and around the world.

DVD / 2003 / 86 minutes

FREESTYLE: THE ART OF RHYME

The world of improvisational rap is explosively explored in this award wining and critically acclaimed authentic look into the life, music and history of 1990's underground hip hop culture!

Packed with rare and archival footage of some of the most amazing MC's ever to bless the mic, including Mos Def, Notorious BIG, The Roots, and many more! The movie features the story of MC Supernatural and his quest to become a champion, battling many in his way including his arch nemesis Craig G of the famed Marley Marl Juice Crew.

Made by a grass roots co-operative of independent local community filmmakers, b-boys, DJ's, and MC's, this documentary takes us on a journey through the previously unexamined dimensions of hip hop as a spiritual and community based art form. Combining the best of independent art house cinema within the hip hop mix tape format, the film features legendary battles from New York to LA, including The Lyricist Lounge, Project Blowed, and The Wake Up Show!

The artists featured in the film including Jurassic 5, Planet Asia, Freestyle Fellowship, MC Juice, Lord Finesse, Wordsworth, Boots Riley, and The Living Legends provide insight into one of the least seen faces present in the music: improvisation and creativity. Structured with insights from the Last Poet's esteemed Abioudun Oyweole and jazz & rap historians Freestyle connects the dots from the pain and love of yesterday's poets to today's hip-hop innovators. Revealing the art forms stunningly emotional outlet; whether sharing energy in a street corner cipher for block cred or a stadium's commercial rap performance full of 1,000s of paying fans. Like the Griots of Africa or the wail of Coltrane's saxophone, today's hip-hop MCs all have a similar purpose: to share their experience with others hungry for truth, community and healing.

DVD / 2000 / 75 minutes

RHYTHM & BAYOUS: A ROAD MAP TO LOUISIANA MUSIC

Robert Mugge's loving survey of the diverse musical styles and genres of the State of Louisiana.

To describe the recent films of the documentarian Robert Mugge as cultural reference books doesn't mean to imply that these explorations of the musical byways of Southern rural America are lacking in pungent musical sap. It's the careful balance between music and scholarship that lends Mr. Mugge's films a foundation of academic seriousness that flirts with dryness without becoming mired in trivia. Documents of a flourishing below-the-radar culture, often involving musicians who won't be around much longer, they are archival records as well as entertainments. For every obscure blues or folk musician shown performing in his films, there is usually an expert standing by to explain where this artist or group stands on the family tree of American vernacular music. Instead of concentrating on the trunk and larger branches, Mr. Mugge likes to examine the smaller branches and even the twigs.

Filmed in 3 parts: Part 1: Another Country / Northern Louisiana Part 2: Spirits of the Night / New Orleans & Baton Rouge Part 3: Music in the Air / Southwestern Louisiana

Features Kermit Ruffins, Frankie Ford, Rosie Ledet, Dale Hawkins, Henry Gray, Henry Butler, Nathan Williams, Sister Pearlee Toliver, Warren Storm, Claude King, Hackberry Ramblers, La Famille Viator, Rod Bernard, Lil' Alfred, Jambalaya Cajun Band, Easter Rock Church, Ever Ready Gospel Singers, Po' Henry & Tookie, Rev. Gerald Lewis, Kenny Bill Stinson, Lil' Bryan, Dale & Grace

DVD / 2000 / 120 minutes

BLUES AND THE ALLIGATOR: THE FIRST TWENTY YEARS OF ALLIGATOR RECORDS

The first 20 years of Chicago Blues' label Alligator Records!GADVD-7005Allig:DVDbox

Film about famous Chicago blues label, Alligator Records featuring icons such as Koko Taylor and Sonny Boy Williamson as well as newer school blues artists like Kenny Neal and Lucky Peterson. The folks at Alligator started a love affair with the blues 40 years ago and this is the story of the first 20 years.

Blues and the Alligator is a film by Jim Downing, shot in 1991. The documentary includes extensive music. Track listing:

Sky Is Crying-Horroscope-You Don't Love Me Snatch It Back and Hold It-Roll Your Moneymaker Can't Let These Blues Go-Devil Child-Stormy Monday You Got Me Running-Darling I Miss You So Jealous Man-Like Father Like Son-Star Spangled Banner It's A Dirty Job-Sky Is Crying-Sweet Home Chicago

DVD / 1991 / 52 minutes

HAWAIIAN RAINBOW / KUMU HULA: KEEPERS OF A CULTURE (DBL FEATURE)

Double Feature: Robert Mugge's feature-length films on Hawaiian music and dance, both traditional and modern, released together at last.

In the 1970s, Hawai'i began what is known as the Second Hawaiian Renaissance, a period of renewed interest in native Hawaiian history, language, crafts, music, dance, and spirituality. Out of that period of resurgence came enormous social, cultural, and political excitement and activity which, to a great extent, continues to this day.

Inspired by what he encountered during his first visit to Hawai'i in 1986, filmmaker Robert Mugge joined forces with state politician Dr. Neil Abercrombie (later to become the U.S. Congressman from Honolulu and then Governor of the state), University of Hawai'i ethnomusicologists Dr. Ricardo D. Trimillos and Jay W. Junker, kumu hula and educator Vicky Holt Takamine, and Honolulu Academy of Arts film programmer Ann Brandman to produce an 85-minute documentary on Hawaiian music shot largely on the Island of O'ahu, and then, with the help of Cove Enterprises executives Roy Tokujo and Ronald Letterman, an 85 minute documentary on Hawaiian dance shot on all six of the primary Hawaiian Islands. In both cases, Dr. Abercrombie was able to convince his former colleagues in the state legislature to fund the films because of their educational and promotional value for the state.

HAWAIIAN RAINBOW, a 1987 film about Hawaiian music, examines Hawai'i's traditional chants, percussion, ukulele, slack-key and steel guitar, male and female falsetto, and lush vocal harmonies, many of them accompanied by authentic Hawaiian dance styles.

KUMU HULA: KEEPERS OF A CULTURE, a 1989 film about the art of the hula, explores Hawaiian dance traditions going back to 500AD when Polynesians first arrived in the islands. Those traditions have been passed along from generation to generation by kahuna (priests and sages) and kumu hula (master teachers). In this film, shot at exotic locations throughout the islands, Vicky Holt Takamine and other respected kumu hula reveal ancient traditions that have survived, flourished, and (where appropriate) evolved in spite of attempts by Nineteenth Century missionaries, plantation owners, and US Marines to repress Hawai'i's indigenous culture.

DVD / 1989 / 174 minutes

BOB HOPE - ENTERTAINING THE TROOPS

A nostalgic salute to stars who brought music and laughter to the troops in WWII, featuring Bob Hope and many others.

World War II affected everyone, and everyone found his or her own way of helping the cause. For American entertainers, choices included enlisting, selling war bonds, visiting the wounded, and entertaining the troops.

In this 90-minute documentary, filmmaker Robert Mugge pays tribute to hundreds of well-known (and not so well-known) performers who assisted the military both at home and abroad. Included are rare period performances by the likes of Bob Hope, Bing Crosby, Jack Benny, Dorothy Lamour, Frances Langford, the Andrews Sisters, Abbott and Costello, Lena Horne, Carole Landis, Dinah Shore, Jerry Colonna, Danny Kaye, Eddie "Rochester" Anderson, Larry Adler, Kay Kaiser, Cass Daley, Irving Berlin, Bugs Bunny, and many others, as well as special appearances by such prominent actors as Humphrey Bogart, James Cagney, Marlene Dietrich, Carole Lombard (in the last appearance before her untimely death), and Edward G. Robinson.

Rounding out this tribute are 1988 interviews with Dorothy Lamour ("the Bond Bombshell"), Frances Langford ("the G.I. Sweetheart"), Mel Blanc (the voice of World War II's Private Snafu, alias the Sad Sack), and Maxene Andrews of the Andrews Sisters, as well as a reunion of Bob Hope's World War II troupe of performers (videotaped just three days before Hope's 85th birthday).

DVD / 1988 / 90 minutes

ATHENS, GA: INSIDE OUT

Led by the success of the B-52's and R.E.M., Athens, Georgia was the most happening music scene in the country by the mid 80's.

Following several different bands from different genres, this film paints Athens as a magical artistic environment where bands are not in competition, but co-exist in harmony.

Live performances of R.E.M.'s "Swan Swan H" and "Dream (All I Have To Do)" at the Lucy Cobb Institute chapel are included. Also featured are performances and interviews frm the B-52's, Pylon, B-B-Que Killers, Time Toy, Jim Herbert, Flat Duo Jets, Love Tractor, Kilkenny Cats, Squalls, and more.

DVD / 1987 / 120 minutes

BUDDY RICH AND HIS BAND: THE LOST TAPES

"Buddy Rich: The Lost Tapes" is an historic preservation and restoration project. The producers recovered the masters from a fire in 1990 and went about restoring the original surround sound track of the last concert Buddy Rich recorded before he passed away in 1987. This release follows the Emmy Award winning Channel One Suite and both concerts were recorded the same night.

DVD / 1987 / 90 minutes

SONNY ROLLINS - SAXOPHONE COLOSSUS

By Robert Mugge Tenor saxophone master Sonny Rollins has long been considered one of the most important artists in jazz history, and still, today, he is viewed as the greatest living jazz improviser.

In 1986, filmmaker Robert Mugge produced SAXOPHONE COLOSSUS, a feature-length portrait of Rollins, named after one of his most celebrated albums. The project began in May of that year when Mugge and a small crew accompanied Sonny and Lucille Rollins to Tokyo, Japan where the Yomiuri Nippon Symphony Orchestra premiered his Concerto for Tenor Saxophone and Orchestra with Heikki Sarmanto of Finland conducting and Rollins himself soloing throughout. The next big shoot was in August, when Mugge and a larger crew filmed Rollins and his ensemble performing at sculpted rock quarry Opus 40 in Saugerties, New York. The most surprising part of the latter concert was that, midway through his performance, Rollins leaped from a 6-foot cliff, fell to his back on the ground and, in spite of suffering a broken heel, continued to play his saxophone.

Rounding out the production were interviews with Rollins in Japan, with Heikki Sarmanto in Japan, with Rollins and his wife Lucille in New York City, and with jazz critics Ira Gitler, Gary Giddins, and Francis Davis, also in New York City. A soundtrack album, "G-Man," released by Fantasy Records, was named by Village Voice music critic Robert Christgau as the best album of 1987, whether jazz or rock, and the fourth best album of the decade.

DVD / 1986 / 101 minutes

BUDDY RICH: CHANNEL ONE SUITE

Directed by Scott Ross and produced by Gary Reber, recorded in 1985 (King Street Studios in San Francisco), this Emmy Award winning performance was Buddy Rich's last in-studio recording.

The musicians featured are:

Buddy Rich (Drums), Steve Marcus (Tenor Saxophone), Scott Bliege (Trombone); Bill Cunliffe (Piano), Paul Phillips (Trumpet), Mike Davis (Trombone), Eric Miyashiro (Trumpet), Jay Craig (Baritone Saxophone), Bob Bowlby (Alto Saxophone), Mark Pinto (Alto Saxophone).

The track listing is superb:

1. Machine 2. Best Coast 3. One O'Clock Jump 4. Sophisticated Lady 5. Norwegian Wood 6. Love For Sale 7. No Exit 8. Channel One Suite

DVD / 1985 / 90 minutes

RETURN OF RUBEN BLADES, THE

Robert Mugge's portrait of actor, writer, attorney, activist, and Grammy Award winning world music artist Ruben Blades.

"Robert Mugge is a filmmaker with a music critic's sensibility. His good taste in subjects is matched by the subtle way in which he lets his movies reveal all the music that fits. The result is filmmaking that informs and entertains, and in the age of overblown music videos and the blatantly artful hard sell of music, Mugge's movies are a relief to watch.

For salsa fans, THE RETURN OF RUBEN BLADES is a must-see. Politicos looking for a credible and humane view on the fire down below our borders, and people interested in the evolving dynamics of pop culture will likewise find engaging ideas and insights in Mugge's effort...a refreshing portrait of an artist with a demonstrative grace and an irresistible beat.

DVD / 1985 / 82 minutes

GOSPEL ACCORDING TO AL GREEN

Acclaimed filmmaker Robert Mugge's GOSPEL ACCORDING TO AL GREEN examines the turbulent career of soul singer and gospel preacher Al Green.

In the early and mid 1970s, the release of songs like "Let's Stay Together," "Love and Happiness," "Tired of Being Alone," and "Take Me to The River" made Al Green one of the most successful soul and pop singers in the world. However, as the decade progressed, Green suffered an existential crisis, prompted by a questioning of his own increasingly decadent lifestyle, as well as by the death of a girlfriend who scalded him with hot grits before shooting and killing herself. He also claims to have had a religious reawakening after performing a concert at Disneyland.

All of this led to his abandonment of popular music, his purchase of a Memphis church building, his installation of himself as the pastor of that church, and the start of a part-time career as gospel artist.

DVD / 1984 / 94 minutes

GIL SCOTT-HERON - BLACK WAX

BLACK WAX is a musical-political entertainment film produced and directed by Robert Mugge in 1982. It was the first American film to be fully funded by Britain's then-brand-new Channel 4 Television and also likely the first film to use Steadicam from first frame to last.

DVD / 1983 / 79 minutes

D.O.A.: A RIGHT OF PASSAGE (SPECIAL EDITION)

Directed by Lech Kowalski

D.O.A.: A RIGHT OF PASSAGE is the ground-breaking classic documentary about the origin of punk rock.

Centered around the Sex Pistols 1978 tour of the United States, which ended with the group breaking up, the tour was the only one the Pistols played in the United States. Director Lech Kowalski (East of Paradise) followed the band with handheld 16mm cameras through the clubs and bars of their seven-city U.S. tour. Mixing this with footage of other contemporary bands, trends in the fashion capitals and punks of all shapes and colors, Kowalski captured a gritty, stained snapshot of the punk movement at its peak (which includes the now famous footage and interview of Sid Vicious and Nancy Spungen in bed) along with rare interview and concert footage of the late seventies punk rock music scene.

DVD / 1980 / 90 minutes

SUN RA: A JOYFUL NOISE

Acclaimed documentarian and music historian Robert Mugge's definitive portrait of jazz visionary Sun Ra and his Arkestra.

Years ahead of his time, composer, keyboard player, bandleader, poet, and philosopher Sun Ra coupled images of outer space with those of ancient Egypt, acoustic instruments with electronic ones, and modern American musical genres (jazz, soul, gospel, blues, swing) with the sounds of Africa and the Caribbean. He also combined his music with dance, poetry, colorful costumes and backdrops, and pure theatricality, influencing other innovative musical ensembles as diverse as the Art Ensemble of Chicago, George Clinton's Parliament Funkadelic, and Frank Zappa's Mothers of Invention, and he was among the first musicians to use electronic keyboards and portable synthesizers in public performance. For his one-hour documentary,

Robert Mugge spent two years shooting Sun Ra and members of his so-called jazz Arkestra in a wide variety of situations. Ensemble performances were filmed at Baltimore's Famous Ballroom, at Danny's Hollywood Palace in Philadelphia, and on the roof of Philadelphia's International House on the edge of the campus of the University of Pennsylvania. Sun Ra's poetry and mythological pronouncements were filmed in the Egyptian Room of the University of Pennsylvania's anthropology museum, in a sculpture garden in Philadelphia's Fairmount Park, in front of the White House in Washington, D.C., and inside and outside of the house he shared with key band members in the Germantown section of Philadelphia.

Interviews with band members were filmed inside and outside of the house, as well as inside their nearby Pharaoh's Den food store, and a band rehearsal and a solo keyboard performance were filmed in the house as well.

Transferred to HD from the original 16mm film and lovingly restored for the best possible viewing experience. Songs performed in the film include such Sun Ra classics as "Astro Black," "Mister Mystery," "We Travel the Spaceways," "Along Came Ra/The Living Myth," "Spaceship Earth (Destination Unknown), "Requiem for Trevor Johnson," and many more. This release also includes extended audio versions of these and other songs.

DVD / 1980 / 60 minutes

GEORGE CRUMB: VOICE OF THE WHALE

Robert Mugge's 1976 film GEORGE CRUMB: VOICE OF THE WHALE is a portrait of the brilliant American composer George Crumb and includes a complete performance of his hauntingly beautiful composition "Vox Balaenae for Three Masked Players" which is conducted by Richard Wernick and performed by his Penn Contemporary Players: Barbara Haffner, Carole Morgan and Lambert Orkis.

Most of the film was shot in black and white, with musical performance sections tinted blue and sections concerning Mr. Crumb's life (including interviews with him, his musician wife Elizabeth May Brown, and fellow composer Richard Wernick) tinted green. This clip features the opening of the film.

The film was funded by a grant from the National Endowment for the Arts and makes innovative use of color and a dialectical structure to reveal Crumb's life (green-tinted-footage), his work (blue-tinted footage, and connections between the two (full-color footage).

DVD / 1976 / 54 minutes

JOHN LEE HOOKER - COOK WITH THE HOOK: LIVE 1974

On Saturday, July 6, 1974, Mississippi-Delta bluesman John Lee Hooker was a star attraction at an all-day festival attended by 6,000 people. The event in the town of Gardner Massachusetts was called "Down in the Dumps," a musical event held in the city landfill area.

Hooker's performance was captured on a three camera shoot and broadcast on cable television in local cities and towns.

Track listing It Serves You Right to Suffer Sweet Sweet Thing Boom Booom Whiskey & Women Boogie Encore/Medley

DVD / 1974 / 45 minutes

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denver-heavy-metal-society · 5 months

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New Mexico death metal band Impaled Offering performing live at Herman's Hideaway in Denver, CO full set. Guitarist Ken Padilla created the Denver Heavy Metal Society artwork. Video courtesy of Denver Heavy Metal Society.

#Impaled Offering band #New Mexico metal #Albuquerque death metal #death metal #Denver Heavy Metal Society #Youtube

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imeldasoe-blog · 4 years

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denver broncos linebackers 1998

Standing pat with 18 until we see what fallout we have, he said. As of now we not really rushing to find the last couple spots. Keep Maroons winlessGriffin Robinson, Zach Power and Maddux Rychel each had one goal and two assists Thursday in a 5 3 loss to the Flyers in Leamington.. Chlorella binds to heavy metals like mercury, arsenic, cadmium and lead and safely escorts the toxins out of the body all without risk of reabsorption in the digestive tract. Cilantro is another excellent chelator, targeting mercury, aluminum and lead. And then there is zeolite, a mineral with a unique honeycomb composition that acts Coach Outlet Sale like a magnet toward heavy metals. This moralization of aesthetics is mostly our society way of controlling what it deems too sexual or too vain. Unease with the technological modification of the body hasn gone away. We merely refined our judgment about it, explains Pitts Taylor. He finished the 1987 88 season as an assistant coach Coach Outlet Online with the Spitfires, turning 21 years old in the process. He didn't know what the future would hold; after all, this was never his plan. That is, until Karmanos approached him at the year end banquet with a question: "Did you enjoy it, he asked, as Maurice recalled. Although he's been a consultant to the All Blacks and the Wallabies over the years, he adapts a story he told as thekeynote speaker at the 2017 World in Union International Conference in New Zealand while the British and Irish Lions were in town,Imagine Ireland win the World Cup and let's hope they do. And three little boys and girls run down to their local club, all excited. 'We want to try and play rugby!'"And there at the field to meet them is this old guy, Jack. It is important to note that the experiences of the three players in this report are a reflection of their own personal journey and occurred between 2004 and 2012. There is no evidence to suggest that they are a reflection of the typical experience of a WHL player. All three had aspirations of playing hockey at the highest possible level. Friendly Links: New England Patriots Jersey | Cheap Real Yeezys

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themusicenthusiast · 6 years

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Album Review: ‘Asking Alexandria’ by Asking Alexandria

More than just a band, Asking Alexandria has been a perpetually evolving collective, something that has arguably made them one of the biggest powerhouse acts of the modern music era. Few bands can say they’ve embraced change as strongly as they have, the members of Asking Alexandria keeping everything fluid as they matured and progressed, expanding upon their core sound with each album they released. And in the process, they asserted more dominance and became a more powerful – and chart-topping - figure. Of course, such success usually comes with its fair share of hardships; and everyone, even those just somewhat familiar with the group, know of Danny Worsnop’s departure from and subsequent (and somewhat surprising) reconciliation with Asking Alexandria. As jarring as it was for fans and even the musicians themselves, perhaps that split was the best thing that could have happened to Asking Alexandria. Perhaps those paths needed to diverge for a time in order for Ben Bruce, James Cassells, Cameron Liddell and Sam Bettley and Worsnop to all experience a different journey, one where they could pursue what they needed to in that moment before reconvening with a new-found respect and appreciation for what they had together. Their fifth studio album (released via Sumerian Records) – aptly self-titled – that was released in the final weeks of 2017 would seem to suggest as much. Asking Alexandria’s most encompassing work to date, it covers a staggering amount of ground, at times honoring where they came from, while also capturing its full potential and using it to usher in a bold new era, revitalizing things for years to come.

One of the greatest attributes that some of the songs possess is how introspective they are, something demonstrated right off the bat with the lead song, “Alone in a Room”. It begins Asking Alexandria in such epic fashion; the opening line, “I've been away a little while…” being so much more when taken out of context, such as a slick way for Worsnop to address his absence. That’s just scratching the surface of the full magnitude of “Alone in a Room”, though. The track details a person losing themselves, devising different coping mechanisms as a means to just get by and the dependencies that follow. It’s about confronting those demons along with one’s own faults and shortcomings, doing one of the hardest things possible: having a personal reckoning. “…All I needed was the last thing I wanted: to be alone in a room. Alone in a room,” ends each chorus, the reservations and even fear ever present as Worsnop snarls and sings. A full throttle alt-rock song, it’s a far cry from the bands point of origin, but is no less exhilarating. In its own right it’s even a heavy, aggressive song; Cassells hammering out some robust beats when it moves away from the melodic moments. An incredible introduction to this latest chapter in the saga that is Asking Alexandria, that lead track gets the album off to a sensational start. Initially released as the second single from the record, “Where Did it Go?” stands as one of, if not the strongest offering from this fifth album. A cutting-edge song, it sounds fresh and completely new, further demonstrating the versatility that Bruce, Worsnop, Cassells, Liddell and Bettley are capable of. The ebb and flow of it is brilliant, literally going from one extreme to another as the track utilizes some electronic/programming elements, splicing it with the sheer force that hard rock and metal provide. It’s daring and dangerous; the guitars, bass and drums culminating in a thrash-y sound on the choruses, echoing back to their earlier days. It would be remiss to not mention the singing style as well, Worsnop keeping it quite rhythmic, particularly on the verses. It’s nowhere near being a full-blown rap, though it is akin to that. Offbeat as that may sound on paper for Asking Alexandria, it sounds splendid and just hammers home one of the points that the track makes. Rockstar bravado and swagger seeps forth from the song that is an overview of the bands’ career, calling out the copycats and impersonators that have attempted to follow in their footsteps, Asking Alexandria just reaffirming they’re the same groundbreaking outfit they’ve always been. Two of the most surprising numbers on the album come in quick succession, “Under Denver” again breaking a mold. Somewhat ambient at times, the hopeful song that comes across as being about rebuilding and making a better society almost feels like a lullaby. At least that’s the case on the verses, before it gets kicked into high gear, the track still boasting some explosive moments that give it a serious bite. “Vultures”, however, does not. At least not in the traditional sense. The rare acoustic song from the band who is known for everything but, it stands as a phenomenal and gorgeous number that is, arguably, their most impressive piece of work to date. Some subtle percussion ultimately being worked in to give the song more body, it primarily just relies on the acoustic guitars and is guided by an absolutely breathtaking vocal performance from Worsnop. “Vultures” acts as a vessel for him to demonstrate just what he is capable of in terms of the heights he can push his voice to as well as the overwhelming emotion he can pack into his delivery. That’s the most stunning quality about that number. As it delves into the dark side of the music industry, the forces in charge demanding more and more from the people whose careers they are shaping and how empty that can leave a person, you can tell Worsnop is completely and personally invested in it. Packing every fiber of his being into his performance, he makes it honest and raw, fitting with the depiction of someone who has grown so used to doing what is expected of them that they’ve lost sight of who they are as an individual. Channeling anger, sorrow, despair and frustration, “Vultures” stands a definitive point of Asking Alexandria. Coming straight out of left field is “Eve”. Out of the dozen songs that comprise this latest record it is the one with the most prominent ties to their metalcore days. Worsnop may have moved beyond screaming, though it is nice to hear him venture back to it, the guttural way he bellows out the verses having a venomous touch to it; the instruments creating something that’s wildly chaotic in the best possible way. Even then it zigs and zags, throwing some curveballs at the listener as it evolves into a heavy but melodic number, further showcasing how well-rounded Asking Alexandria is aspiring to be. While continuing to forge new ground, they’re not beyond revisiting where they’ve been, and in instances such as this, by combining the various aspects, it yields something else that is totally new. As Asking Alexandria reaches its conclusion, it comes full circle in the most poetic way possible. In a sense it ends where it began, all alone in a room, though “Room 138” finds Worsnop depicting one of the worst days of his life. Still, in a sense it is about confronting the worst aspects of oneself; a period of substance abuse bringing him to the precipice of death before, fortunately and miraculously, getting a second chance. Musically, it’s done in a fashion similar to that of “Eve”, extreme and pulse pounding at times, it hammers home the emotions being depicted, while the chorus, "So, these are the walls that have to hold this moment. I never expected to be here again..." is catchy as can be. Hard rock tinged with metal influences, it also draws on some mainstream sensibilities in regards to the overall appeal, again resulting in something different, while bringing the record to a dynamic finish. In the end, Asking Alexandria finds Asking Alexandria completely redefining what they are. Really, the enthralling listening experience seems to serve as a reintroduction, because this release does act as a new beginning for the now ten-year old project. Bruce, Bettley, Liddell, Cassells and Worsnop all got the time apart that they needed, and as relatively brief as it may have been it allowed them to all grow exponentially and realize what the best course of action would be when moving forward. In a way it was the same as it had always been for them, though this time the reinvention has been much more dramatic, adding significantly to their wheelhouse. It doesn’t even stop there, though. With these dozen songs Asking Alexandria has created something genre bending and on some levels even groundbreaking. Rock, alternative and hard rock. Metal, metalcore and post-hardcore. It’s all represented in one form or another. Let’s not forget the melodic and even acoustic tendencies, nor the electronic contributions, all of which further flesh out this amazing batch of songs. The fact that so many of those styles often exist within the same song is what makes it so fascinating. In theory, the combinations and transitions between such vast spots on the musical spectrum shouldn’t even work, yet they’ve made it all feel so fluid; the record as a whole having a remarkably cohesive vibe. Brimming with energy and filled with some of the most emotional and passionate songs they’ve written to date, Asking Alexandria is a riveting listen from start to finish. It’s one of those rare records you want to listen to all the way through. And when it’s over, you’ll probably give it another spin… or two. Their most creative and invigorating record to date, Asking Alexandria proves these guys continue to be ahead of the curve, implementing ideas that few would have the guts to. It has led to a new gold standard for the band. That’s how, in due time, this album will come to be viewed; their future as a band seeming brighter now than it has ever been. Purchase Asking Alexandria on: iTunes | Google Play | Amazon MP3 Visit Asking Alexandria’s websites: Official Website | Facebook | Instagram | Twitter Dallas Show Info: Friday, February 16th at Gas Monkey Live in Dallas, Texas. All ages. Doors open at 5:30. Music begins at 6:30. Crown The Empire will open, with Black Veil Brides and Asking Alexandria co-headlining. $32.50+ Current Shows: 2018 February 7--The NorVa--Norfolk, VA 8--Terminal 5--New York, NY 9--Rams Head Live--Baltimore, MD 10-- Electric Factory--Philadelphia, PA 12--Tabernacle--Atlanta, GA 13--Marathon Music Works--Nashville, TN 14--Egyptian Room at Old National Centre--Indianapolis, IN 16--Gas Monkey Live--Dallas, TX 17--House Of Blues--Houston, TX 19--El Rey Theater--Albuquerque, NM 20--The Marquee--Tempe, AZ 22--Knitting Factory Concert House--Boise, ID 23--Roseland Theater--Portland, OR 24--Showbox SoDo--Seattle, WA 25--Vogue Theatre--Vancouver, Canada 27--Knitting Factory Concert House--Spokane, WA March 1--The Warfield Theatre--San Francisco, CA 2--House of Blues--Las Vegas, NV April 28--Welcome To Rockville--Jacksonville, FL May 5--Charlotte Motor Speedway--Concord, NC 12--Northern Invasion--Somerset, WI 18--Mapfre Stadium--Columbus, OH June 1--Rock am Ring--Nürburg, Germany 1--Rock Im Park--Nürnberg, Germany 4--TivoliVredenburg--Utrecht, Netherlands 6--Circolo Magnolia--Milano, Italy 7--Greenfield Festival--Interlaken, Switzerland 8--Donington Park--Derby, United Kingdom 12--Melkweg--Amsterdam, Netherlands 14--Pannonia Fields--Nickelsdorf, Austria 14--With Full Force--Gräfenhainichen, Germany 17--Forum Karlin--Prague, Czech Republic 18--Budapest Park--Budapest, Hungary 19--Event Center--Hohenems, Austria 21--Graspop Metal Meeting--Dessel, Belgium 22--Hellfest--Clisson, France 26--Markthalle--Hamburg (Altstadt), Germany 28--Provinssi Festival--Seinäjoki, Finland 30--Vainstream Rockfest--Münster, Germany

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