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secretradiobrooklyn · 3 years

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Get In Moses Edition | 2.13.21

Secret Radio | 2.13.21 | Hear it here.

art by Paige, liner notes mostly by Evan, *means Paige

1. Chantal Goya - “Tu m’as trop menti”

From the movie “Masculin feminin,” a DVD we borrowed from Tim. This is the film where Godard was whispering the lines into a headset of the actor, so they were learning their lines literally as they were saying them. This is the opening song. Not particularly Valentine’s Day, in that it’s about lying too much… but still there’s a dissatisfaction that is undeniably a part of French romance.

2. Human League - “(Keep Feeling) Fascination”

Such a square song! But the keys hook is so immortally beautiful, with its crucial warble. The rest of the song is sweetly and innocently ‘80s. It reminds me of being in art class in high school, fully participating in the aesthetic crimes of the era.

3. Marijata - “Break Through” - “Afro-Beat Airways”

Analog Africa is just now releasing a repress of this long sold-out collection. I’d listened to it before, but I guess that was before I knew about Marijata (thanks again, Jeffrey!) because it was a shock to discover a track by one of our very favorite Ghanaian discoveries. So far as I knew, Marijata only released one album of four songs — which is fantastic — and then eventually started backing a guy named Pat Thomas. Those records, unfortunately, are nowhere near as vital and fascinating as their own record. So finding this song was a welcome revelation! I should also say that, no surprise, the whole collection is a banger from front to back, and will definitely show up again on the show.

4. Philippe Katerine (avec Gérard Depardieu) - “Blond”

This strange guy is a kind of joker songwriter in French pop, as far as I can tell. This song is all about what one can get away with if one is blond. He’s a really fascinating character, a tiny bit like Beck maybe, in the sense that he seems to have made a successful career of taking unexpected directions. He’s also an actor, working with Claire Denis (!), Jonathan Demme and Gille Lellouche among many others. He was also in “Gainsbourg - A Heroic Life,” which is an excellent movie that we highly recommend. (We had no idea who he was when we saw it at the St. Louis Film Festival.) Also, he appears to be married to Gérard Depardieu’s daughter, which would seem to explain this particular guest star.

- The Texas Room - “Cielito Lindo”

Several years ago, a producer in St. Louis put together the amazing album known as “The Texas Room,” which brought together immigrants from all over the world who currently lived in St. Louis. That meant Bosnians, Cameroonians, Mexicans, and native-born Americans… including Andy Garces, a fellow Paige went to high school with — His mom was Paige’s voice teacher as a matter of fact — who recorded this strange and excellent version of “Cielito Lindo.” The release party for the album was one of the greatest nights we spent in that or any city, dancing our faces off to all kinds of music. At one point the Bosnians got so excited they took over the room, shouting along and hoisting up their guy in the air. Basil Kincaid did the art for the album, and I think that’s the night we finally met. We have one of his collages on our studio wall right now — right over there!

5. The Modern Lovers - “I’m Straight” *

When we got the current SK van (circa 2015) we were super excited because we could finally bring out other musicians on the road and we could also have folks from other bands that we were out with jump in the van with us for a stretch. That February we were on tour with Jamaican Queens, and our friend Andy Kahn came out with us to play guitar. Not only is Andy a rad musician and great guy to be around, but he was an excellent road DJ. Somehow I made it to 30 without getting into The Modern Lovers (I know, crazy!) Andy has great taste and had a well appointed iPod so he was the official van DJ pretty much right away. He put on this record one day and I just lost it. The thing is, after that I was like “Play ‘Roadrunner’ again!” all the time. When I hear this record I still think of that tour. Andy in the back seat DJing, Ben and Erik jumping in the van to come with to Baltimore, graduating to “truck” in the Holland Tunnel queue, so much snow, host Bentley, “Go cats?”, Aaaaaahhhhh!

6. Frances Carroll & the Coquettes - “Coquette / When I Swing My Stick / Jitterbug Stomp”

I think we learned about this band last year, when Coquettes drummer Viola Smith died at 107 years old (in Costa Mesa, not Silverlake, Paige would like you to know — her bad). The video link below is highly recommended — the whole band swings hard, and the interaction between them and Frances Carroll is well worth the watch. They were considered a curiosity at the time, being an all-female band, and man they could play. Viola Smith in particular had an insanely long career, playing from the 1920s straight through into 2019! She played with Ella Fitzgerald and Chick Webb, and in the original Broadway production of “Cabaret.” Her particular innovation was having two toms at shoulder height, on either side of her head, which she would roll and ricochet shots off. Very cool style, never copied.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pFDD_NxtKZ4

7. Pierre Sandwidi - “Boy Cuisinier”

Born Bad Records is one of the world’s coolest record labels, with a huge array of vintage discoveries as well as African albums as well as contemporary pop and noise bands. “Boy Cuisinier” is off Pierre Sandwidi’s album with them. It bears some definite relation to Francis Bebey but takes its own turns just as often. Sandwidi hails from Burkina Faso, known as the Upper Volta when he was growing up. We’re just now learning about him and his scene — I confess I didn’t even know Upper Volta was African; I thought it was Slavic — so I wouldn’t be surprised if some more Voltaic music shows up here soon.

8. Evan Sult avec Tracy Brubeck - “The Cats Won’t Stay In”

Paige’s mom Tracy called while we were in the middle of the show, and they paused to have a conversation about, you know, whatever — the snowstorms, the neighbors, the news. She was on speakerphone so that we could all talk, and eventually I just started taking notes as fast as I could. This is the result. I find it fascinating. That’s Paige singing lead on the Marty Robbins tune.

9. Kil Monnower Alimunna, Grup Hindustanbul - “Tadap Tadap”

Years ago I saw the movie “Monsoon Wedding” by the director Mira Nair. It really stuck with me, particularly the gorgeous opening credits in maroon and orange and sky blue. I was trying to tell Paige about that sequence, so just in case we could catch a glimpse of those colors, we watched the trailer. This song is the soundtrack to the trailer. It’s really an amazing track — so Indian, of course, but with definite Western points of contact, like when it goes to the major chords unexpectedly in the post-chorus, which sounds practically American. And the final outro minute or so is full of delayed, reverbed vocals in a psychedelic style, til it reaches the strange and intoxicating sound that he makes with his voice as the song fades into the distance.

- Martial Solal “New York Herald Tribune” - “A bout de souffle” soundtrack

10. Gillian Hills - “Tut Tut Tut Tut”

Gillian Hills, probably more famous for “Zou Bisou Bisou.” This track is great, listen for those syrupy slides and harmonies. I just learned that she is English, and the music video for this song is definitely shot in Angleterre. Full of famous red phone booths (now famous little free libraries.) When we were doing this week’s show I asked Evan “Is this song too obvious?” He said no, it wasn’t too obvious. If you know why I’m asking, then you know. So is it?

11. Jacques Dutronc “La Compapade”

We’ve been into Jacques Dutronc for many years now, because he’s a brilliant French songwriter and composer. But this one track has been a baffler for many years now. It shows up out of nowhere and sounds like… what? What the hell IS that? Is it African? It sounds African, but — is it? Is it just some strange lark on his part? Paige was apprehensive about playing it on the show, even though we both really enjoy it, because we couldn’t tell if it was somehow demeaning to someone. But eventually I argued that we don’t know what the hell most of the singers are saying in the songs we play, or which cultural taboos they’re transgressing, and the same is true in this case. If it is somehow offensive to anyone, I hope it’s clear that wasn’t our intention. But… I don’t know. I don’t think it is. I think it just comes from a cultural heritage and context that is French in a way Americans cannot understand or appreciate. In any case, it’s an amazing performance and recording!

12. K. Frimpong & His Cubanos Fiestas - Me Da A Ɔnnda”

Research into African rock and styles eventually brought us to K. Frimpong and His Cubanos Fiestas, which has turned out to be a satisfying step into the Ghanaian highlife/Cuban scene. I love the keyboard hooks in this one and the way the patterns just roll on and on with each other like a river, in no hurry but pulled forward by their own currents. He was also a visual artist — his art appeared on the cover of last episode’s Nyame Bekyere album. This was also the first time I’ve encountered the character “Ɔ” in the wild. I have zero idea how it is pronounced.

13. They Might Be Giants - “Birdhouse In Your Soul”

“Not to put too fine a point on it / Say I’m the only bee on your bonnet / Make a little birdhouse in your soul.” I remember when I first realized that was a feeling I was feeling — hoping to build a birdhouse in the soul of another, to be inside one another in a little protected place. The rest of the song is a nerd-rock dream palace I love as much as any other nerd, but the chorus is where I discovered an emotion I hadn’t suspected was there when I first heard and fell for this song and this band in high school (thanks, Jeremy Peterson!).

Paige adds: This song is blowing my mind. I don’t like writing lyrics, my ratio of melodies and harmonies to lyrics way out of whack. Evan brought this song back into our lives this week when Sleepy Kitty was asked what our favorite love songs are on a real radio show. We’ve been listening to it a bunch since Thursday and damn, these lyrics are good. It’s really reminding me that you can write about ANY.THING. Blue Canary in the freakin’ outlet by the light switch. Looking at the lighthouse picture. It’s a clinic. I learned something, and I can go home.

On the original topic, I love thinking of this as a love song. If you hear a love song, it’s a love song. It’s a love song.

14. Sleepy Kitty - “Tu veux ou tu veux pas” *

I took two years of French in high school and missed out junior and senior year because of a scheduling lulu that made 3rd and 4th year French conflict with advanced painting which was the primary reason I was taking French in the first place. I’m still not over it. Years later, I’m at Electropolis (in my memory) and I hear this Brigitte Bardot song on Tim’s excellent sound system and I can understand…most?…some…of it! I fell in love with this song and with French again and started stumbling, scrabbling at it again. We started working up this cover. Thank you Suzie Gilb for helping with the pronunciation. We did a 7” of this song and it’s a rare SK track with me playing trombone on it.

15. The Velvet Underground - “I Love You” *

I don’t really have much to say about this track except that it reminds me of flying to Germany because I got the 5 Disc set with all the extras on it a few days before leaving for a high school foreign exchange program. I was so happy to have those discs to absorb on the long flight, and come to think of it, it really inflected the whole trip.

16. Secret Song - “African Scream Contest”

The genesis of our love for African rock/funk/whatever (if for a moment we don’t count the profoundly influential “Graceland”) is the immortal collection “Legends of Benin,” put out by Analog Africa. As soon as we dug further for our favorites from that collection, we found “African Scream Contest” vols 1 and 2. I was drawn to the second one because it had a killer track by our hero Antoine Dougbé, but eventually spent as much time with the first volume. Both are absolutely fantastic. Part of what I love so much about them is learning how much of an impact James Brown and his band had on African music, which is super apparent throughout these collections and especially this track. The drums and the grunts and the hard stops and the horn blasts — it’s all there.

One of the finest elements of these records is the hidden track at the end, tucked five or so minutes back from the last song. These are often some of the hottest tracks on the album, well worth the wait, and this mystery song is no exception. Unfortunately, though, that means we don’t know who made this track or what it’s called. Oh well — that only makes it cooler!

- Adrian from Brooklyn

17. The Beatles - “Dizzy Miss Lizzy”

We watched “The Beatles: Eight Days a Week” recently (totally worth a watch), and we were struck all over again by how insane their lives must have been at that time. Yes fame, yes sudden fortune, yes global supremacy, yes yes yes — the thing that I can’t get over is the shrieking, and how it wasn’t just present at their shows, it was EVERYWHERE THEY WENT, AT ALL TIMES ON ALL DAYS, EVERY SECOND THEY WERE OUTSIDE. How completely unsettling that must have been, to be the center of that howl, day after day, year after year.

18. The Fall - “Sing! Harpy”

Dedicated to Adrian from Brooklyn and all those young women and men losing their minds over the Beatles so completely that all they could do was shriek, even at shows where the crowd’s sound completely obliterated the sound of the band they so desperately loved and came to hear.

(This is also some of my favorite violin playing in any rock music, right up there with “Boys Keep Swinging” and The Ex’s “State of Shock.” I would LOVE to work with a violinist in this mode.)

19. T.P. Orchestre Poly-Rythmo - “Gnon a Gnon Wa”

So intense! That constant chord strike throughout the song is a kind of high-note drone that we find ourselves drawn to. It kind of reminds me of the sound of a casino, where you walk in and all of the machines are chiming the same note, promising to just take your mind away and keep it safe until you need it again.

- Tommy Guerrero - “El Camino Negro” - “Road to Nowhere”

20. Black Dragons de Porto Novo - “Se Djro” What a slinky number! I love how spare the instrumentation is, but how much power is contained in that one guitar part. This is side A of a 7” put out on Albarika Store, the label that T.P. Orchestre called home for many albums.

21. Helen Nkume and Her Young Timers - “Time” This is (so far) the closest we’ve gotten to reggae on WBFF. I know nothing about the band or the music other than their fantastic name and sound — oh, and the fact that she is known elsewhere as Prophetess Helen Nkume. She appears to be Nigerian, or anyway her record label is. I love the guitar hook on this song, it just sneaks in and steals the show.

22. Anne Sylvestre - “Les Gens Qui Doutent”

23. Parvati Khan - “Jimmi Jimmi Jimmi Aaja Aaja Aaja Re Mere” A lucky find! Someone in one of my Facebook groups posted a video from this album, so I took note and returned later to check it out. This is from an Indian movie called “I’m a Disco Dancer” that looks like a real kooky thrill. The actors appear to have only the vaguest sense of what “disco” might be — or what a guitar might be, for that matter. It kind of looks like someone saw a single photo of a disco night and extrapolated a whole movie from it. Nonetheless, Parvati Khan is entrancing in the song and in the video, and we HAVE to see this movie, with or without subtitles. The smoldering look alone really requires investigation:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZUdJQSUcK_Y

24. Nancy Sit - “Love Potion #9” * One thing I’ve always known about Evan is that he doesn’t like the song “Love Potion #9.” When we stumbled across this, I thought it was awesome but I didn’t want to make Evan listen to a song he doesn’t like on Valentine’s Day! Evan says this song has little to do with “Love Potion #9” which makes me wonder, Evan, what’s the part you don’t like about “Love Potion #9”?

Evan adds: I honestly can’t remember what my issue with this song was. I swear, it was like… it was around the time of “Melt With You,” which I also found inexplicably irritating (and still do). I suspect now that there was an inept cover version that first steered me wrong… but luckily there’s a strange Chinese version to steer me right again! Oh life.

- Michel Legrand - “Solange’s Song (Instrumental)” - “The Young Ladies of Rocheforte”

25. The Velvet Underground - “I’ll Be Your Mirror” * This is the song that I said was the best love song of the western world on the real radio. I think it’s so beautiful and so adult. I don’t even know if I would have thought of this as love song a few years ago. When first got into the V.U. I thought it was a pretty song – a neat song, but I didn’t really know what it meant, what it could mean. What’s funny is when I think of this song, I have a Lou Reed version in my head – his voice, the harmonies. When I revisited the Max’s Kansas City live version (which as far as I know is the only one besides other more recent live versions and surely what I’m thinking of?) I realized that the version in my head is essentially that one but cleaned up, remastered, different EQ, and as far as I know entirely imagined.

Evan adds: (Paige has been playing this song recently around the apartment. I don’t even have to tell you how lovely it is.)

*p.s. If you want to hear the piece about musicians talking about favorite love songs on KWMU it’s here: https://news.stlpublicradio.org/show/st-louis-on-the-air/2021-02-11/listen-love-songs-to-keep-you-warm-on-cold-winter-nights

Super fun getting to talk about this stuff and in such good company!

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checkoutafrica · 3 years

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Urban Village; A legacy in the making

Soweto based 4-piece band, Urban Village, have released a new EP, UBABA, their debut for Parisian label Nø Førmat! (home to Oumou Sangaré, Blick Bassy & Mélissa Laveaux). Marrying the day-to-day experiences of black South Africans with ebullient elements from traditional Zulu music, Urban Village is the alias of four experimental musicians all born and raised in the township of Soweto at the tail end of Apartheid; singer/flautist Tubatsi Mpho Moloi, guitarist Lerato Lichaba, drummer Xolani Mtshali and bassist Simangaliso Dlamini.

Urban Village’s UBABA 4-track EP is released with a new single and visuals carrying the same title. The video created for Ubaba (which translates as ‘father’) by fast-rising filmmaker Justice Mukheli is an evocative rendering of daily life in one of the many Soweto hostels which in the 1900s housed black male South Africans, forcibly separated from their families whilst working in the city’s mines. Speaking about the video, Urban Village note; “Justice is our brother from Soweto. From the moment we discussed his vision for the Ubaba video we trusted he would bring the song to life on the screen. The video shows the different roles played by fathers in society; to nurture, to care, to love, and to protect their families. Salute to all the Ubabas out there present in the house”.

How long did it take you guys to settle on the name Urban Village and why that name? Did you guys have any other names in mind?

In a simpler way, the name Urban Village had already been formed by Lerato Ntsane Lchiba in 2013 when conceptualising on the vision for the music. It took the first thought on the name to settle on it and the name came from an inspiration of our residential field in Johannesburg- Soweto location and there were no other names prior that we ad tried before.

How long have you guys been a group and how did the group form?

The concept for the ban was formed in 2013 as you know. Lerato Ntsane Lchiba (Guitar and Backing vocals). He invited Tubatsi Mpho Moloi (Lead Vocals, flute, mbira and guitar) whom he met as a teenager at local jam sessions, Xolani Mtshali (Drums and Backing Vocals) was next to join, with Siman Galiso Dlamini (Bass) the final ‘villager’ to come into the group. Each member was originally friends from childhood coming together to pursue their musical dreams together in this lifetime.

What was it like growing up in Mzimhlophe in Soweto?

Growing up in Mzimhlophe has been very interesting due to its a place that was politically driven and most old artists and leather gurus spent their time. It also overlooks the landscape of the city of Johannesburg and thus has the township’s vibrant energy and vibe.

How would you describe Maskandi to people that have never heard this style of music?

Maskandi music is one of the traditional music forms of South Africa sound scape, it’s genre mainly played by zulu culture people and it’s musical language amongst the Nguni people.

How would you describe Urban Villages sound because I see that you guys like to blend a lot of genres together?

The sound of the Urban Village is layered with elements of folk, maskandi, rock, jazz – a blend of the modern and the traditional. Growing up in Soweto played a major role on how we merge the folk/ indigenous sounds and the experimental modern world music sound. Keeping the identity is the deliberate delivery as we are messengers of the values of our culture.

What is the story of your ep, what is UBABA about?

With our first Ubaba EP, we took inspiration from the rich musical heritage of South African soil. A totally original synthesis of Zulu guitars, indie- folk, maskandi, South African choirs, and jazz, all carried along by an undoubtable energy and charisma. The project opens with the powerful folk of “Ubaba”; then comes “Izivunguvungu” with its poetic sanza loops and harmonious choruses borrowed from the Zulu music style Isicathamiya; “sakhisizwe” follows with its contagious riffs and maskandi guitar melodies and message of “building a nation”. Finally, french DJ and producer Chloé has revisited Izivunguvungu with a trippy and techno twist – to spread “the spirit of futurist indie-folk through nightclubs”. This EP is a journey through all the colours of Soweto, a dormitory town designed to better monitor those who were sent there, that has become the laboratory of music where the hopes of an entire people resonate, even today.

Explain the visuals of the UBABA video.

This story is a period piece that captures everyday life in a Soweto-based hostel during the 90s. The song, entitled Ubaba (Father) and the inspiration behind the film is centred around a place that was predominantly for men, most of them Ubaba’s (Father’s). During the apartheid regime, hostels were a tactic from the regime to separate Ubaba’s (Father’s) from their families, most of them working themselves to an early death in Johannesburg’s mines. The visuals explore those spaces and all the activities that happen in the environment. We see all aspects of emotion from vulnerable male figures, unity, love, dedication, and talent.

If you could describe Soweto in 3 words what would they be?

Soweto is vibrant, cultured and legendary

What are your hopes for the future of SA music?

Our hopes for the future of music SA music is to grow more and get more opportunities in our media space for alternative traditional music

Our hopes for the future of SA music is to grow more and get more opportunities in our media space for alternative traditional music.

Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

In 10 years we see ourselves running an art based initiative of sharing skills and engagement to empower young aspiring arts. Feet in the tradition, head in the future.

Listen to their EP here;

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adrenaline-roulette · 4 years

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Fic ideas that I don’t know if I should continue

Well howdy there folks, so here’s the thing, I’m looking through my saved documents and have found a few fics that I’ve started (And by started I mean, I’ve written like 1 page max for each one) For one reason or another, I never got around to continuing them, and reading over them again now, I’m not sure if I should. I’ll post what I have bellow, but I would really love to know if anyone out there would be interested in reading these?

If you are interested and would like to be tagged in the eventually finished product, just let me know 😊

Soulmate Fic. Pairing: Joe Mazzello x Reader

Have you found your soulmate yet? If not, don’t panic, they’re out there somewhere! There have been cases of people not finding their soulmate until they turn sixty! But how do you know if you have found, the one? While scientists are still unable to explain exactly how this occurs, the moment you are in close proximity to your soulmate, you are able to hear them whenever they sing. But keep in mind, it is only when they sing, not when they listen to music!

**********

“If it hadn't been for Cotton-Eye Joe I'd been married a long time ago Where did you come from, where did you go? Where did you come from, Cotton-Eye Joe?”

The moment you first hear your soulmate’s voice singing in your head, you practically had a heart attack. Okay, so not quite, but you did find yourself quite flustered. So much so, that the egg you were in the midst of cracking for the cake you were making, ended up with the egg itself in the trash, while the shell was deposited into the cake mix. “Bloody fucking fuckety fuck!” You hiss, as you scoop the cracked shell out of the flour mix. This was certainly not how you had imagined your first encounter with your soulmate would go. You always heard about couples who had cute first interactions! Like one of them was singing old show tunes, or something of the likes. But oh no, what do you get? God damned Cotton Eye Joe.

You hear a door slam in the apartment, followed but feet pounding down the corridor. “I heard swearing, is everything alright?” Your best friend Ben appears in the kitchen entry, his green eyes scanning the room for any signs of injury.

“I’m fine, don’t stress.” You smile softly, the frown which had enveloped your features only moments ago, quickly vanishing as you take in Ben’s worried expression.

He nods, blonde curls swaying over his forehead. “Alright, if you’re sure Y/N, because I’m more than happy for you to borrow my oven, but I’m not alright with you injuring yourself in my home!”

“Duly noted. Thank you Benjamin.” You poke your tongue out at him, before turning back to the recipe, scanning over the paper for the next step. Ben had been more than willing for you to borrow his oven for the afternoon, the baking bug had bitten you, but you had recently found yourself without a functioning oven, which is how you found yourself stood in his apartment now, baking a monstrosity of a chocolate cake, complete with four layers.

Ben slides up next to you, leaning his back against the kitchen counter, looking over at you quizzically. “No, but really, what was the swearing all about?”

You shrug half-heartedly, keeping your eyes focused on the mundane task of whisking the ingredients together. “It was nothing, just heard something surprising is all.”

Ben nods, and for a split second you truly believe he will drop the subject, but you sadly have no such luck. “As in, you heard something surprising on the radio, or you heard something surprising in your head….”

Turning in his direction, you shoot a glare his way, hoping it would convey your desire for him to no longer pursue his line of questioning. “Y/N Y/L/N, I swear to any and all higher powers, if you mean to tell me that you just heard your soulmate while standing in my fucking kitchen, I will murder you!”

Your silence seems to be answer enough, and Ben lets out a screech, before planting his large hands over your shoulders, and pushing you towards the front door. “Ben! What to hell are you doing?” You squawk, as he marches you out of his apartment, and down the three flights of stairs that lead to the main entrance. “Seriously Ben, the oven is still on, you shouldn’t leave an oven unattended!”

Ben ignores you, removing one hand from your shoulder, for just long enough to open the double glass doors, before pushing you out and onto the street. “You will stand out here singing, until your soulmate finds you.”

Your mouth hangs open, as you turn to look at the triumphant grin on your best friend’s face. He genuinely looks proud of this plan he has come up with, and it worries you that he doesn’t seem to recognise the many, MANY flaws in this plan. “So what, I’m just supposed to stand out here for the rest of my life then? Ben your apartment is on a bloody main road! Whoever it was, was probably just driving past!”

“Well here’s a good way to figure that out, can you still hear singing?”

You stop dead in your tracks, scowling at the blonde. You had been so preoccupied with being physically dragged outside, that you had stopped paying any attention to the song playing in your head. “Well, the song’s changed.” You mutter, listening to the chorus of the Phantom of the Opera theme. You had to give your soulmate credit where it was due, whoever they were, they could certainly carry a tune. Though perhaps opera wasn’t their strong suit….

“I promise to put everything for your cake in the fridge alright? You can finish it off later on, but for now, I don’t want to see you back in my apartment for at least the next hour alright?”

---

Getting caught in the rain after work. Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader

The phone rings, once, twice, three times. Neither you nor your fellow receptionist feel the desire to answer the incoming call, both of you knowing what the person on the other end of the line is after. It’s always the same, a patient will call up, desperate the see a Doctor immediately, paying no mind to the fact that they have just called on a Monday morning, three hours after the GP clinic had opened. You couldn’t count how many times you had been yelled at today by patients who couldn’t get their way.

“I got the last one.” Jean smirks, gesturing to the incoming call with a pen.

“Oh, I didn’t realise we were keeping tally of how many calls we had answered today.” You grin back, swivelling in your chair to face the phone. Despite the constantly ringing phones, there had been an unexpected, but not unwanted lull in patients these past ten minutes, allowing yourself and Jean to take a bit of a breather from the chaos the morning had brought with it.

“Good morning, general practitioners’ clinic, Y/N speaking.” You greet, as you pick up the receiver, a friendly smile pasted over your lips. Rule one of working in a Doctor’s clinic, always speak with a smile in your voice.

“I’m dying.” A soft melodic voice wails through the line, causing you to pause mid-sentence. You would recognise that voice anywhere, whether you necessarily wanted to or not.

“Mister Taylor, I can assure you, you are not dying.” Jean turns to face you, raising a knowing eyebrow. She had played witness to what she called, yours and Mister Taylor’s ‘flirting’ for months now.

“And how do you know that?”

“Well, according to you Mister Taylor-“

“It’s Roger.”

“Sorry, Roger. According to you, you have been dying for the past week and a half. Either you had better hurry up and die, or recover immediately.”

The line goes silent for a moment, and you almost think that perhaps Roger had hung up. “Do you talk to all your patients like this?”

“No, only you.”

“Oh, well I’m honoured then.” There’s a soft laugh that breaks through Roger’s voice, and you can almost picture the cocky grin he’s sporting. He thinks he’s won, he always does. You know exactly how this conversation will end, it’s the same way your conversations have always ended. “So, will you let me take you out sometime soon? There’s a new pub that’s opened up on main, looks like it’s a little less dodgy than some of the others around.”

You pull the phone away from your lips to groan.

---

John Deacon has a new room-mate who doesn’t understand that paying the drums late at night is NOT socially acceptable. Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader

You press your face into your pillow with almost too much force, just escaping from bruising your nose, while your hands clamp down over your ears, a second pillow arched over the back of your head, the sides pressed firmly against the shell of your ear. Three weeks this had been going on, for three whole weeks, you found yourself attempting to fall asleep every night, with a pile of pillows threatening to suffocate you. Why, you may be asking? Well for three weeks straight, your usually quiet next-door neighbour had had someone staying with him, and that someone had clearly decided bringing a drum kit with him, was a phenomenal idea! Of course, you wouldn’t mind the drumming if it occurred during the day, but for some reason, this person had decided the ideal time to practise, was from ten in the evening onwards. Surely you couldn’t be the only one in your apartment building who had an issue with the late night percussionist? Though maybe they were all the same as you, unsure how to approach the subject of asking them to stop? You had known John Deacon for a few months now, he had moved in back in July, and you had had a few fleeting conversations with the gentle man, mostly when you happened to cross paths while collecting mail, or taking out the garbage. during those chats, he never seemed like the type of person to condone such ungodly behaviour. Though you suppose, looks can be deceiving. So, after three weeks and two days of only sleeping for close to three hours a night, you decided to finally take matters into your own hands. By writing a well worded letter.

“Dear Mr John Deacon’s housemate. If you could please refrain from playing your drums in the evening, during the time period where most people are attempting to sleep, that would be greatly appreciated. While I have no issues with your drumming in general, I do have an issue with you practising so late in the day. Perhaps you would consider playing in the afternoon instead, whilst most occupants of this apartment building, are at work? Kind regards, Y/N.”

You smile triumphantly down at the letter, folding it neatly before placing it into an envelope, leaving it unsealed, then resting it on your kitchen counter, you would drop it off on your way to work. Curling up back on your bed, you turn a pointed glare towards your bedroom wall, the thin plaster being all that separated you from the obnoxious drummer. “One way or another, I will make you stop drumming.” You grumble, before returning to your original position, of being buried beneath your pillows.

By the time your alarm clock sprang to life, you had managed to squeeze in another two hours of sleep, which made for a record four and a half hours of sleep for the night! You groan, as you pull yourself out from the comfort of your bed, scrubbing your palms over your face. As you pad into the bathroom, you scarcely want to look at yourself in the mirror, the bags beneath your eyes having grown progressively darker these past few weeks. Even your workmates had begun to notice how sleep deprived you were, you’re typically cheerful demeanour was being drowned out by your constant yawning, and continuous coffee consumption. You make quick work of getting ready for the day, throwing your hair up into a bun at the crown of your head, before applying a light coverage of makeup, just enough to try and hide the purple shadows of your eyes. It does little to help, and as the fluorescent light of your bathroom shines down on you, it occurs to you that you like just a tad corpse like. “Sexist dead girl there is…” You smirk, as you swipe a red lipstick across you lower lip.

Back in your bedroom, you rummage through your closet for a clean shirt and skirt, before making a mental note to do laundry when you get home. Hopping on the spot, you simultaneously kick on one of your brown heels, whilst also buttoning up the pale pink blouse you had chosen for the day. You swap legs for the other shoe, as you tuck your shirt into your cream coloured skirt, fastening the zipper, before adjusting the waist band so the decorative brown buttons sat at your hips. Finally, after a couple of minutes of searching, you retrieve your purse from under your bed, frowning at yourself for placing it in such an awkward place.

Your shoes click against the tiled floor of your kitchen as you contemplate making a cup of coffee before leaving for the day, glancing up at the clock hung high on the wall, you realise you don’t have the time, and dart towards the front door. You skid to a stop just before the front door swings shut, holding your hand out to keep the door open, as you use your free hand to rummage through your purse, ensuring your key was there. It wouldn’t be the first time you had allowed the door to shut, with your key on the complete opposite side of where you needed it to be, just last week you had allowed this to happen while you went grocery shopping. It had ended up being a hard lesson learned, not to mention expensive, once the locksmith had made his appearance.

Upon finding your key safely hidden at the bottom of your bag, you turn towards your neighbour, marching the short distance to his apartment. Stopping in front of John’s door, you tighten your grip on the envelope in your right hand. Perhaps half an hour or so ago, you had heard the door slam shut, but you had no way of knowing if both occupants had left, or just one. You contemplate knocking, to hand the letter to whoever may be inside, but quickly think better of it, and slip the think envelope between the door and the doorframe, either someone would find it when they arrived home, of it would fall to the floor in front of whoever opened the door from inside the apartment. With a spring in your step, you made your way downstairs, and out to the street walking towards the Doctor’s clinic where you worked. A smile tugging at your lips, as you imagined a peaceful night, with absolutely no drumming.

*****

A deep frown had settled over Roger’s brow, as he held the letter between fisted hands, sitting at the dining table inside Deaky’s apartment. “What the fuck is this?” He snarled, as he read, then reread the letter. He payed little mind to the front door opening, an only bothered to look up when he heard John’s voice break the silence which had filled the room.

“Looks like a letter Rog.” Deaky smirks, as he kicked his shoes off by the door, before folding his arms across his chest and looking at the fuming drummer. “What’s going on?”

Roger tore his gaze away from the neat script he had been staring at for a solid twenty minutes, focusing now on his flatmate. “Nothing, it’s nothing Deaky. Don’t worry about it.” He finally sighed out, folding the letter back into the envelope, and pushing away from the table. He could vaguely recall John mentioning someone who lived in the building by your name, but he hadn’t actually met you, which made the letter you had sent, cut just the little bit more. You had said you didn’t mind his drumming, yet you didn’t want to hear it? Why not! Roger though of himself as a bloody good drummer! Anyone should feel honoured to hear him play, especially for free! “Hey, do you know where Y/N lives?” He called over his shoulder, as he made is way towards the sofa, where he had left his music journal and pencil.

John raised a curious eyebrow, has he moved around the kitchen, setting about to put together some cheese on toast. “Uh yeah, she lives next door, to the right. Why?” It wasn’t like Roger to ask where a woman lived, typically he found that sort of information out for himself.

“No reason, just heard the name around while I was checking for mail today, and realised I didn’t know here is all.”

John narrowed his eyes into a glare, which went unnoticed by Roger, as he began to scribble away in his journal. Roger hadn’t collected the mail today, he had…. Deciding it best to not question Roger’s motives, John continued around the kitchen, the only noises to be heard throughout the apartment were those of the frying pan heating up on the stove, and Roger’s fast moving pencil over paper.

“Deaky, I’m just ducking out for a few minutes, I’ll be back yeah?” Roger didn’t wait for a reply, before darting out into the hall, the paper he had been writing on, folded into quarters. Turning right, just as John had said, Roger steps up to what assumes must be your door. Just as you had done mere hours earlier, he slips the folded paper between the door and door frame.

---

Roger endeavours to sleep with a woman from every country before his 30th birthday. However the woman he picks from France proves to be more of a challenge than originally expected. Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader

The dingy patchwork sofa bounced precariously as Freddie flopped onto it, pressing himself firmly in between Roger and Brian who had originally been the sole occupants of the sofa. The knitted blanket that was draped over the back slides to the ground, as its resting place is disturbed by the jostling lead singer. Finally, Freddie settles himself, crossing one leg over his knee, and turning his attention entirely on Roger. “How’s your body count looking these days?”

Roger flicks the ash off the end of his cigarette, before taking another drag, blowing the smoke up towards the sky. “Are we talking fucks, or murders?” He asks casually. John peers over at his band mates from his seat on the armchair, frowning somewhat at Roger’s response.

Brian smirks gently, shaking his head at the blonde’s antics, while Freddie lifts an eyebrow up at him. “For interests’ sake, let’s say both…” He finally decides, lighting a smoke between his lips, breathing in deeply.

“25, 67.” He states simply, stretching his legs out on the rug beneath the sofa, digging his toes into the soft material. This time, John’s expression changes from that of mild interest, to one of pure intrigue, a smirk forming over his lips.

“I can’t tell if that’s an unusually high number of murders or strangely low number of fucks.” Brian teases, reaching his arm around Freddie to punch Roger’s shoulder playfully.

Roger rolls his eyes, taking another long drag from his dwindling cigarette. “One of those numbers will be going up this weekend too.”

Freddie squints at the drummer, as he assesses which number they were currently discussing. Deciding to give the blonde the benefit of the doubt, he figured he was about raise his ‘fuck’ number, rather than ‘murder’ number. “And do tell dear Roger, who is the lucky lady to be?”

John lets out a loud chuckle, causing the three men to look over at him, all with equal questioning looks adorning their features. “Oh don’t look at me like that. Especially you Rog, I know damned well who you’re talking about!”

A pair of piercing blue eyes squint at John from across the room, the bassist grinning at the drummer. “Just to make sure we’re on the same page, who are you talking about Deaky?”

John rolls his eyes, before begrudgingly pushing himself up and out of the armchair he had made himself comfortable in, strutting his way over to the back of the rehearsal studio. Pinned to the far wall is a world map, currently with pins stuck all across Europe, signifying where Queen would be next touring. “If my suspicions are correct, I believe Roger will be taking a bit of a drive across the border tonight.” John grins wickedly, gesturing with his index finger to France

---

Song fic - Jet Lag by Simple plan Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader (Could easily be changed to another Queen member if that what y’all would like to see!)

You collapse on your bed, sinking into the plush blankets, and massive pile of decorative pillows, it had been a long, and lonely week. It felt as if the standard five-day work week you had just endured, had been going on for at least a month. Though according to the red crosses on your calendar, it really was Friday the 1st, and not in fact Friday the 29th like it felt. The lonely part stemmed from the lack of company in your apartment over this past week, your boyfriend/ partner in crime, Roger Taylor was currently on tour with the rest of Queen, somewhere in Australia. While he had been away, your old school friend had come to stay while you had the house to yourself, but she had left for a business trip on Monday leaving you once again alone. You settle yourself more comfortably against your pillows, tilting your head back and to the side, keeping your eyes on the phone on your bedside table, just waiting for it to ring. Any minute now, you knew it would ring, and the anticipation of who would be calling had your heart racing.

The cool metal of Roger’s watch lay in your palm, and you clasped your fingers around the gold, circular face, rubbing your thumb gently against the glass. Just as you go to glance down at the time, the phone lets out a shrill ring. Once, twice, there isn’t a third. You dart your arm out quickly, and pick up the receiver, a wide grin spreading over your lips, showing off all your teeth. “Hello…” You ask softly with a bated breath.

“Y/N? Hi luv.” Roger’s smooth voice sends chills down your spine, goose bumps appearing over your arms.

“What time is it where you are?”

“I’m in Sydney currently, and it is 9:15am. How about you?”

“6:15pm here, I just got home from work.”

“God, trying to figure out these time zones is making me crazy.”

“Hey, at least we’re doing better than at the beginning of the week. You were saying good morning, when it was midnight!”

“I just hate the thought of you alone. Five more days then I’ll be home.”

As if on cue, a rotund tortoiseshell cat leaps onto the end of the bed, purring loudly as she rubbed up against your toes. “I wouldn’t exactly say I’m alone. Misty just joined me, I think she misses you too.”

You can hear Roger’s smile through the phone, and you grin softly yourself. Misty had been a rather unexpected addition to your household. One of Freddie’s cats had escaped his home one afternoon and had gone missing for an entire night. She returned the next day, and soon after, Freddie found himself a grandfather, and having to re-home five kittens. Never one to turn a stray away, you had leapt at the chance of adopting the kitten.

---

John Deacon forgets the bass line to Under Pressure, but who is the cause of his forgetfulness? Pairing: John Deacon x Reader

Miami found himself with four identical faces of shock staring at him as he stood in the recording studio, none of the band members were blinking, he wasn’t even entirely sure they were breathing either to be honest.

“I’m sorry, you’re going to have to repeat that darling.” Freddie was the first to break the silence, lifting a quizzical eyebrow at the manager before him.

Miami shook his head, an exasperated huff escaping his lips. “I said, David Bowie wants to record with you lot, he’ll be dropping by the studio in a week with some suggestions of his own, and I think it would be a good idea if you lot try to come up with something too.” He was met with more staring, and frankly it was becoming rather off putting. “Would you rather I call him back and say you don’t want to record with him?”

“No!” The four men shouted at once, no longer the statues they had been before.

“What we mean is, we would hate for you to disturb Mr Bowie, and would love to record with him.” John pipes up, ever the diplomat.

Brian nods along in agreement, while Roger and Freddie quickly begin discussing what it would be like to meet David. “We’ll come up some lyrics and tunes to show him.” Brian offers, grinning at their manager. It does little to reassure Miami, though all he can do is hope they don’t show up empty handed when Bowie arrives.

“I could do a massive drum solo halfway through the song.” Roger declares, waving his arms around like a crazed man. It was obvious to John that Roger was unimpressed with the album they were currently recording, though he couldn’t help but think that one drum solo wasn’t quite enough to get him to stop bitching about the other songs. “Or a bongo solo! Everyone likes bongo’s, right?”

“Darling, I refuse to have bongos on this song.” Freddie interjects, and John can’t help but grin as Roger’s face falls, he looks like a sulking child, which is more or less what he currently is.

“How do you know Bowie doesn’t like bongos?”

“Roger, shut up about the bongos.” John groans, as he turns on his heel to collect his bass where he had left it near one of the amps. It was one thing to listen to Roger complain, it was another to listen to him complain while not doing anything productive. John’s fingers slide over the strings of his bass, plucking a few chords at random as he closes his eyes, trying to picture a rhythm of some sort. There had been a few chords playing around in his head lately, though he hadn’t gotten the chance to play them as of yet.

‘Dun dun dun dadada dun’ his bass echoes the notes, as he plays them on repeat, bobbing his head along to the jazzy beat. The tune seemed to bleed into his soul as he played, and he soon found himself lost in the music. It was a simple rhythm, only a few chords, but he felt it had potential.

“That’s really good Deaky.” Brian grins, coming over to stand beside him, watching John’s fingers play across the strings. Freddie joins soon after, holding one of Roger’s drumsticks in his left hand. A smile plays across his lips, hidden behind his bushy moustache.

“It certainly has potential.” He offers, as he snaps his fingers on the second and fourth beat. Brian does the same, and soon Roger is joining in on his kick drum. “Next step, come up with a lyric.” Freddie chuckles, as John places his bass back down, a smug smile on his lips.

“Wait, you guys think this is actually decent?” He asks stunned, his eyebrows creasing together, waiting for someone to start laughing, and to state it was all just a joke.

“Really John, if we can get the lyrics down, then I want to show this to Bowie.” Freddie grins broadly, as he returns his stolen drumstick to its rightful owner.

“I’m with Fred, just imagine having David, and Freddie’s voices singing along with that bass line, it’ll be an instant hit!” Brian supplies with an equally large smile. John takes a moment to take in what his bandmates were telling him, they truly liked what he had come up with, even if it was rather simple.

“I have one condition.” He declares, folding his arms across his chest. “And it isn’t negotiable.” All eyes are on him again, awaiting his next words in anticipation. “There will be absolutely no bongos on this song!”

“Fuck you Deacon!” Roger cries in outrage, throwing his drumstick with acute precision towards John’s head. Luckily, John knew what to expect from Roger these days, and easily stepped out of his firing line.

“If we agree with John, do we run the risk of having the drums thrown at us?” Brian chuckles quietly to Freddie, who instantly looks fearfully towards the drum kit.

“How about we go get some lunch?” Freddie sings out, waltzing his way towards the doors to the studio. Roger mutters under his breath as he follows him out, John can’t quite hear what he’s saying, though he’s sure it’s about bongos. Brian leaves next, and John takes up the rear. Freddie leads the group for a few minutes, in search of somewhere for lunch, they pass by their go to pub, with Freddie insisting he knew of somewhere far better and that it was just around the corner.

*********

Just around the corner turned out to mean a twenty-minute walk, which had Roger grumbling the entire way.

“Just turn back if you’re going to complain the whole time.” Brian groans, which only increases Roger’s complaining. It was starting to grate on John’s nerves, he often forgot just how petulant the man could be.

“I’m gonna head-“ He began, before being interrupted by Freddie’s loud declaration of them having arrived at their destination.

“Go on, get in you’ll love this place!” Freddie grins, as he ushers the three others inside. The entire front wall of the café is windows, allowing the midday sun to stream in, warming everyone up on the cold winter’s day. Wooden chairs, with patchwork cushions sit nestled among wooden tables, each with a different mosaic design on top. The floor is covered in mismatched rugs, some more faded than others, but overall giving the café a warm and inviting feel. A young woman, with flaming red ringlets smiles brightly at the group, picking up four leather bound menus.

“Good afternoon! Will you be dining with us today?” She asks sweetly, her eyes falling on Roger almost instantly. “Roger Taylor, I don’t know if I should let you in. Y/N wouldn’t want you here.”

Roger has the decency to blush at her words, ducking his head low, allowing his hair to flop over his forehead. “Is Y/N here today?”

The hostess frowns, placing a hand on her hip. “Of course she’s here! She owns the bloody place!”

Roger gulps, shuffling his feet on the floor awkwardly. “We can go somewhere else, it’s not a problem.” John suggests, shrugging his shoulders slightly. They were all hungry, but there were other places to eat. Plus, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know what Roger had done to the owner, knowing him, probably a one-night stand or something of the likes.

The hostess frowns once more, before sighing. “Follow me, I’ll tell Y/N that you’re here Roger.” She instructs as she leads them all to a four-seater table, placing the menus down in the centre before walking to the bar. Roger buries his head in one of the menus, ignoring the outside world as best he can. The few patrons of the café stare and whisper, pointing to the band. Nothing they weren’t used to at this stage of fame, though they could go without it some days, especially when trying to get a bite to eat.

John, Brian and Freddie each take a quick glance at their menus, before looking between one another, all of them with the same question running through their minds. “Roger Darling, what did you do to the owner of this fine establishment?” Freddie finally asks.

He looks up from his menu, biting his lower lip nervously, if it weren’t for the fact there was a strict no smoking sign on the entrance, John was sure Roger would be rolling a cigarette instead. “Oh, you know. She’s just another one of my college conquests is all.”

“Conquest my ass! You can shove that excuse up your ass Taylor.” You grumble, as you stand beside the table, glaring solely at the blonde man before you. You turn your attention to the other men at the table, you weren’t ignorant, you knew who they were, you had kept track of what Roger was up to over the years, it was hard not to, given how much publicity Queen got. “I knew this idiot in college, while he was studying to be a dentist still. I complained to him I had a toothache once, so he decided to punch me square in the jaw, in an effort to remove the painful tooth. He took out one of my bloody molars, which was great expect for the fact that it was a canine that hurt!” You grumble, taking out a notepad and pen to take their orders. “Then, he runs off with you lot, and never returns, leaving me with the dental bill!”

Roger has his head resting against the table now, Freddie and Brain are laughing, and John isn’t sure whether to kick Roger for his idiocy or to comfort the woman. He had spent the time she was telling her tale, to study her. She was beautiful, a quiet subdued sort of beauty, that really shone through when she was passionate about something, just as she was now. “I told you I was drunk at the time, you said it was fine for me to take a look at your mouth!” Roger protested loudly.

“There is a difference between taking a look at my mouth, and punching me!” You cry out, before lowering your voice, not wanting to cause a scene in front of your patrons. You take a deep breath in, before plastering a smile on your lips, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Welcome to The Hideout, what can I get you today?”

John grinned up at you, finding your ability to jump between casual and professional rather impressive. You caught his eye and winked, as you tapped your pen against your notepad, awaiting the band’s orders.

Freddie is the first to speak, smiling up at you. “Could we get a large margarita pizza to share please darling? And, four pints of whatever you have on tap please?”

You raise an eyebrow at Roger, who was attempting to make a fort out of the menus on the table. “I’ll get you three beers. I don’t trust blondie over here to drink.” You smirk, before it turns into a smile directed at John.

“Hey! Why don’t I get to drink!”

Brian chuckles quietly, before gesturing to the menu fort. “It may have something to do with your inability to behave like an adult.” He shrugs, curly hair bouncing over his shoulders as he does so.

---

For everything else that I’ve written, feel fee to check out my MASTERLIST You’ll find a heap of Queen, BohRhap, 6 Underground, Labyrinth and Night at the museum!

#roger taylor fanfic #joe mazzello fanfic #john deacon fanfic #roger taylor #joe mazzello #John Deacon #ben hardy #Brian May #freddie mercury #fanfiction #queen band fanfiction #soulmate fanfic #fanfic ideas #fan fiction suggestions

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brownstonearmy · 4 years

Text

2020-09-25: Juiced! (Part 5)

August 7 (Friday midmorning)

After the events of the previous day, you'd think our lovely band of adventurers would catch a break. BUT YOU WOULD BE MISTAKEN! Messages, insights and calls to action proliferate throughout the party.

Lucky receives a letter from Miss Mavis asking for a favor:

"Lucky, can you and your friends help me find a crystalline energy amplifier? I need one for a restoration project. They're worth a hefty price, but I'll gladly reimburse if you find one."

Norm, meanwhile, has learned that Yance Elbereth is convalescing at SHART HQ. The time to strike against his assassination target is nigh!

Spleenifer has learned through meditation and spiritual attunement that the waterskin from the monk is a type of holy water and the decorative bowl is actually a bowl of Commanding Water Elementals. And on Spleenifer's first day of official work as Mayor Dunwall's assistant, she has been asked for her input how best to solicit donations to help the Mayor with reelection.

Q (going as Jay on this auspicious day) found a note under their door:

"From one bard to another, here's a piece of advice: never trust a Stout you can't drink. I have Stout problems of my own, if ever you want to meet for a pint at the usual bard hangouts. I'm easy to find, since the scales stand out. -Kadana Meristan"

Everyone splits up to start on their respective tasks, so let's follow one adventurer at a time and see where things lead!

Up first we have have Jay, and they strike out for the Juicy Lyre tavern to meet up with the mysterious author of the letter. Kadana, an attractive dragonborn, is nursing a pint while composing a song on the back of a playbill. After Jay takes a seat, she explains that Lawrence Stout was once her patron. But like Jay, she got into some hot water when things got a little too close between Kadana and Russell Stout. The younger Stout seems to have a habit of fraternizing with the arts (as the euphemism goes). But in Kadana's case, her arts funding got cut off as punishment.

Jay and Kadana muse for a bit on strategies to get back at Lawrence and/or Russell. The best way to strike back seems to be breaking up the Stout family businesses, but neither of them are quite sure how to go about doing that. Kadana excuses herself to attend to some other bardly matters, but it's clear that Kadana is playing this as a playful round of hard to get. Folks, we're seeing the beginnings of a beautiful friendship (and possible romance)!

But we must fade to black for now and pick up on Spleenifer's tale! She's back at the Mayoral Manor to discuss the upcoming election strategy. On the way over to the Mayor's place, she found a slightly-charred scrap of paper that probably fell out of someone's pocket during the events of last night. It reads: "You promised me I could use the ring to fix my problem. -Rooney"

Spleenifer stuffs the scrap in her pocket and focuses on the task at hand with the mayor. Since Zaribeth Quickfingers is mounting an unexpectedly strong campaign (though really, any campaign at all is probably unexpectedly strong against Dunwall), the incumbent mayor needs to take the special election preparations seriously. Spleenifer suggests mounting a spin campaign to solicit donations, but her methods are a bit... unorthodox:

"Make it say incontinent instead of incumbent!"

That'll surely take away from the discontent brewing about the mayor's presumed incompetence! What's a giant dung beetle to do? Approve the suggestion and blast it out across town, of course!

Now we switch POV to Lucky, who suggested at the start of the adventure that the party should investigate an unusual announcement in today's Brownstone Bugle where the Meyrick family was looking to hire someone to kidnap their daughter for ransom. But Lucky isn't abandoning Miss Mavis's task! In her words, she's gonna try to kill two stones with one bird.

Lucky is already familiar with crystalline energy amplifiers, and knows they can be found in certain naturally occurring crystal deposits. The catch is that only the biggest crystals (worth at least 1,000GP) can function as a proper amplifier, but she's got a lead on a potential source in a mine about 10 miles east of town. If Lucky can win the audition to kidnap the daughter, she could potentially stash her quarry in the mine while looking for crystals.

She knocks on the the door of the Meyrick estate, and the butler escorts her Mr. Meyrick's study. Mr. Meyrick is a skinny man with wild hair that is graying at the temples. If Gary Busey was a used car salesman and the characters knew what car salespeople were, that's what everyone would say the elder Meyrick looks like.

Mr. Meyrick asks Ms. Lucky Proudfoot what her plans for his daughter are, and she explains the plan. She also plans to scurry off to the mines in a mobile house on chicken legs for extra dramatic flair. The daughter can work in the mines hunting crystals while waiting for the ransom payment to arrive. Meyrick thinks this is an excellent plan and hires Lucky on the spot. He just needs some time to subdue his daughter before she'll be ready for the exchange. Come back later this evening, he says, and she'll be Lucky's problem for the next few hours.

Now's the perfect time to switch over to Norm, who's sneaking his way to where Yance is staying. The recently-concussed trader of illicit antiquities is laying on a cot staring at the ceiling. Norm applies some of the St. Ignatius's Re-Dead Juice to his dagger and moves in for the kill. But Yance rolls over just as Norm enters the room and makes eye contact.

All is not lost, though! Norm shifts into playing the part of an ally who is checking in on him after the concussion. "How many fingers am I holding up?" Norm asks. He goes through a series of simple tests and then "checks for bumps" on the back of Yance's head. That's when Norm makes a tiny nick at the base of Yance's hairline with his poison-coated dagger. Yance passes away seconds later, peacefully slumping back onto the cot.

Sounds of a loud scuffle erupt outside, and from Norm's vantage point, it appears to be a fight between five drunken sailors and a sober-seeming ship's officer. Despite being split up, the rest of the party is close enough to hear the sounds of the brawl and everyone converges on the scene.

Lucky triggers a wild surge and casts Suggestion on one of the sailors, telling him to "make love, not war." Every time she blinks, a duck appears nearby. The sailor under the influence of Lucky's Suggestion grabs a fellow sailor by the arms and pulls him over for a deep kiss. The sailor on the receiving end of the kiss is surprisingly receptive to the romantic gestures, and they stumble away from the fray to keep the passion burning.

Norm exits his building, dashing through alleyways so as to make it look as though he came from a completely different building. There's a drunken brawl and a separate manly make-out session and at least a dozen ducks by this point. What the heck is happening here?

Spleenifer, having been a sheltered woman of faith, has never seen men kiss before. She grabs a duck and announces to her newfound companion: "Let's watch together!" Regardless of the duck's opinion on the matter, it's along for the ride. The passionate pirates are flattered by Spleenifer's audience, but their ships don't really sail that way, if you catch their drift.

While all this chaos is unfolding, Lucky has a bit more fuel to add to the fire. She drops her suggestion and casts invisibility on two pirates and the officer. It's hard to fight when you can't see each other, right? Well, it does stop the fight for the most part, as the two invisible pirates stumble off to rob a bank with their newfound invisibility powers.

The remaining pirate is lifted up by an invisible force (spoiler: it's the captain) and slapped. Now the captain's visible again and orders him to return to the Rising Howl, their ship that is currently docked until the river rises high enough to let them sail. Spleenifer grabs another duck from the flock (now called Prongle), while still restraining the original duck (now named T'Pam) in her sturdy arms. She manages to coax them into pecking at each other like they're kissing.

Norm dashes over to where the sailors were fighting and is nearly overpowered by the stench of alcohol. He pulls out a match lights it to see just how much of a drunken cloud the sailors left behind. Lucky adds a little pizzazz to the situation with a little bit of flammable luck, and the cloud ignites in an impressive cloud of flame in the air that leads in the direction of the fleeing sailors. Jay leaps in front of the two kissing sailors to shield their love from the explosion.

Once things calm down (always only briefly in this town), the party swings by the general store for some pickaxes for their upcoming mining expedition. Not wanting T'Pam and Prongle to feel left out, Spleenifer fashions some miniature pickaxes out of twigs to give to the ducks. Lucky snags a caterpillar cocoon (foreshadowed magical purposes!) on the way to contact the lizardfolk to borrow their house.

At the Meyrick estate, Mr. Meyrick greets the party and directs them to a wagon containing a tied-up sleeping giantess (technically half-giantess, but still LORGE). Once their "hostage" is safely aboard the house, the party contemplates what to do.

"I've never done kidnapping before," asks Lucky "but is it reasonable to ask for her emancipation?" But that is soon answered once the giantess wakes up. Lucky is able to communicate with her, and learns that the giantess's name is Tina. She's well-spoken and her family loves her a lot. This whole kidnapping thing is a publicity stunt to get some sponsorship deals. The house gallops toward the mine, reaching the entrance after about 20 minutes.

Tina agrees to help the party mine for crystalline amplifiers and takes up a pickaxe along with the rest of the party. Lucky uses the cocoon to transform herself into an umber hulk with a sweet, sweet burrowing speed. But after some time has passed, a group of eight drunken brigands arrives at the mine's entrance to hide out.

Norm puts down his pickaxe and sneaks toward the boisterous brigands to assess the situation. One of the group has a rucksack full of books, while the rest carry sacks of more conventional treasure. As Norm listens in from the shadows, he learns that the treasure comes from their recent break-in of Salem's.

The sound of picks against stone catches the attention of the brigands, who drop their spoils and tread deeper into the tunnels. A massive chunk of crystal has just been unearthed, and it could function as a quality crystalline amplifier if it can be completely excavated. However, that's the time the drunkards show up. One of them makes obscene and probably physiologically incompatible advances at Tina and a fight soon breaks out.

Smites, spells, and sneak attacks smash into the metaphorically-smashed sailors. Lucky's burrowing triggers a small tunnel collapse, and her confusing gaze disorients even more of the sailors. Spleenifer smacks at the base of the crystal to uproot it before the tunnel collapses further, and soon the party emerges victorious.

Mr. Meyrick arrives to collect his daughter just as the last brigands flee into the night. He mentions that the sponsorship deal fell through, though he still brought the promised ransom. Maybe they'll be able to collaborate on another scheduled kidnapping in the future? Who knows!

The party searches through the stuff left behind by the brigands and finds wealth of many types. Material wealth in the form of gold and gems is most obvious here, but there is also informational wealth. Among the books that were stolen from Salem's is a copy of Zaribeth's accounting ledger. As in, the true version that depicts all the shady stuff going on with Zaribeth's businesses.

With that realization, the adventure concludes for the night and everyone advances to level 12. Stay tuned next time for more!

#Shits and Giggles #Dungeons and Dragons #Adventure Log #FishDavidson #Kidnapping

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laws-yellow-submarine · 4 years

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The Rubber Band

So uhhh…that Rock Band AU thing that I kept coming up with headcanons for? Yeah…I ran with it lmao though I’m establishing now that this in no way is meant to be GOOD and is instead meant to be SILLY and ENJOYABLE and FUN! I had fun writing it, even if it only took me like 2 hours haha

Credit goes to @ohpineapples for the initial idea (also 2 OCs make a very brief cameo in this, though I only own one, but for the sake of this AU they exist in the same universe and are best friends, if for no other reason than because Skylar definitely would take one look at Sophie and say “We’re best friends now”. She’s the extrovert I wish I was lmao)

Also featured: slight Frobin, because I can’t leave well enough alone lol

Word Count: 1674, will include a read more but they hardly ever work on mobile so RIP sorry in advance lol

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the silliness! (all lyrics are taken straight from the One Piece wiki so if anything’s incorrect I apologize!)

Battle of the Bands: Sabaody Park City! Prizes awarded to the Top 3 bands! 1st Place awarded title of “Best Band Ever”.

…

Zoro was by far the easiest to recruit.

When Luffy had strolled into the music shop, old-as-shit hand-me-down guitar strung across his shoulders, the green-haired percussionist hadn’t had much thought beyond “drumsticks”. This is, of course, because he hadn’t even noticed the other boy come in, an amazing feat considering the volume he exuded; but when Zoro was focused on something, it took a lot to break that focus. In this case, that focus lay on a set of 5B, dark oak, drumsticks. Zoro fumbled with the almost-matching stick in his pocket, older now but no less powerful, similar build though lighter in color. These would go perfectly with it.

And so it didn’t take much to convince Zoro to join; especially after Luffy helped him “borrow” the set.

…

They tried to recruit a band manager next, eager to get the show on the road, but the orange-haired prospect they’d met at the local carnival practically laughed in their faces.

“You call this a band? There’s two of you! That guitar’s strings are tied in place! I’m not throwing my weight behind a couple of idiots who don’t even know how to maintain their instruments! Do you even know how to write songs?” “Why write them? It’ll come to us when we play!” Nami threw her hand over her face. “See, this is why we need you!” The boy smiled at her, brighter than the sun, and she sighed.

“What do you even call this ‘band’?”

“The Rubber Band!”

She walked away.

…

They’d returned to her days later, a long-nosed, bass-playing, songwriter and a curly-browed keyboardist in tow, guitar strings neatly replaced. She sized them up, weighing the pros and cons, and crunching the numbers, in her head. Finally, she spoke up, dollar signs in her eyes.

“My rate is 70% of everything you make, plus a fee of $500 for every event I land you.”

“Hey isn’t that-”

“Of course, Nami-swan!~ Whatever you want dear! Nothing is too unreasonable for you, my love!~” The blond, Sanji, twirled around her, hearts in his eyes as he continued asking if he could make her anything to eat. She could get used to that.

Luffy agreed as well, not seeing a problem with it, as of course they’d make plenty of money as they journeyed to become the Best Band Ever. Usopp was the only one to voice any concerns, saying that “clearly as the true leader of this band”, they should negotiate for a lower price. Nami’s glare quickly silenced any further complaint.

…

They played a few local venues, and along the way picked up a curious reindeer with an affinity for the tambourine. Growth was, unfortunately, scarce though, as Nami brought up one day after receiving a call for a gig in the big city.

“Well we’re not getting anywhere without transportation.” She was right. Usopp’s beaten up car had finally quit on them only the week before, and they’d yet to find something up to the task. They sat around a table at the bar they’d just performed at, munching on snacks that Sanji had snuck in. Usopp was working on some new material, as well as their logo (a pirate’s jolly roger with a straw hat, for personality, and to dissuade those who thought Chopper was their mascot), and Zoro placed his freshly polished drumsticks pristinely in their case. Their attention was diverted when a woman approached them, smiling in a way that set them both at ease and on edge at the same time.

“Hello, I just wanted to congratulate you on your set. You played very well, especially you young man,” She said, particularly speaking to Chopper, the inexplicable reindeer.

“I don’t need your compliments, you dummy,” The boy gushed, blushing at the woman’s words. For her part she didn’t appear offended, and even chuckled slightly at his antics.

“My name is Robin. I overheard you need a way to get around?” Nami eyed her warily.

“Yes…we do, but there’s not enough in the budget to purchase a whole new vehicle.”

“Oh, my husband owns a tour bus. He used to travel with his own group before we met. If it’s no trouble for you, we’d be happy to help.” As she spoke, a large, bright blue headed man walked up, startling the group with his rather eccentric look.

“It would be SUPER no big deal! We’ve been wanting to travel for a while ourselves!”

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, the band quickly said yes, and so finally began their trip to Sabaody Park City for the Battle of the Bands tournament.

…

They’d made only one stop for fuel on the way to the city, inadvertently picking up a probably homeless man named Brook, who was hoping to meet a friend in the city. Though most of the group had warned Luffy against it, there was no convincing the boy otherwise, and so far it had actually proved a fruitful venture. The man, thin as a skeleton, was proficient in music as well, and assisted Usopp with writing songs for the next show.

When they’d finally made it, their first real stop was the venue Nami had booked, in hopes of making some quick cash to prepare for the tournament. Robin had assisted with setting up the stage, helping to fight off Franky from installing pyrotechnics (“We can’t afford to pay for fire damages!” Nami had screamed), and despite Luffy’s insistence she stayed well away from the stage while they played. Along the way, they’d discovered she had a rather lovely voice, and seeing as how Luffy’s voice tended to sound like two whales fighting during a car wreck in the middle of a bagpipe festival, they’d tried to convince her to become the official lead singer. So far she’d shrugged them off, saying she wasn’t one for the spotlight.

For the next week, Nami continued booking gigs, somehow extorting extra money out of each new venue owner, until finally the day of the tournament had arrived. They’d walked in as a group, filing past dozens of other bands. They shuffled up to the signin, Luffy writing in big, bold letters “THE RUBBER BAND” across the paper, taking up at least five slots. They ignored the event coordinators’ griping in favor of finding a seat, as they waited for the event to start.

One by one, bands began to play; the audience determining who would move on and who was knocked out. The Rubber Band managed to make it through the first few rounds, fumbling slightly in the round before the finals. Until this point, they’d mostly gotten by through Luffy shredding on his beat-up guitar. His energy was infectious, and if he missed a note or played a weird chord, most didn’t notice; but now it was the big leagues, and the competition was fierce.

It was down to three bands, and they watched as a man with red hair screamed into the mic while a masked blond man played the drums. When they finished, the apparent leader taunted the next performer: a tattooed guitarist with a curly blond drummer and a silver-haired singer (and was that a polar bear playing the triangle?). Overall, the semi-finals passed in a blur, as it became apparent just what they were up against.

Luffy wasn’t discouraged at all, however, and merely used this as fuel to further insist Robin join them on stage. In his mind, if she sang for them they were sure to win! His pleas remained unanswered, until it was once again their turn to take the stage, and the dark haired woman followed them up to the mic. She smiled at Luffy’s excitement, and they all ignored the cries from an earlier band about the “new member”, instead settling into a quick, upbeat rhythm. As the crowd started to get into it, Robin launched into the lyrics.

“Arittake no yume o kaki atsume, Sagashi-mono o sagashi ni yuku no sa, ONE PIECE!”

It was a song she’d memorized after helping the others work so hard to write it, and learn it, specifically for the Battle of the Bands. Robin was nervous, having never purposely put herself in the spotlight like this, especially so literally. But as the crowd grew more enthused, dancing along with their music, she found herself feeling more and more confident, even beginning to sway with the music in her own sort of dance, smile growing wide on her face.

“Arittake no yume o kaki atsume, Sagashi-mono o sagashi ni yuku no sa, poketto no koin, soreto you wanna be my friend? We are, we are on the cruise! WE ARE!”

Before the group knew it they were finished, sweating and panting beneath the stage lights, the crowd roaring in their ears as they yelled “encore! encore!” Luffy raised his arms above his head, the biggest smile stretched across his face as he started cheering along with them. The tournament coordinator’s voice came over the loudspeaker, straining to be heard over the loud cheers.

“Well, I think we have a pretty clear winner, folks! Give it up for The Rubber Band!” The crowd’s screams grew deafening, and in the confusion Luffy had somehow snaked his way through the crowd to drag Nami, Franky, and Brook onto the stage with the others.

“Come on, guys! We did it!”

“Luffy, why did you drag me up here…”

“Shishishi, come on! They want an encore!” He said, ignoring the groans of his exasperated manager. The song started up again, spurred forth by Sanji and Zoro (who seemed to be competing over who could play louder), and those without instruments joined Robin at the front, singing along with the lyrics that, at this point, they all knew by heart.

And with the crowd screaming along, it was pretty clear…

They truly were the Best Band Ever.

#the end lmao #one piece #one piece scenario #one shot #AU #One Piece AU #of course I had to use that song like...I gotta lmao #AUs are fun lol #probably won't post this on ff.net or ao3? but we'll see how I feel in the morning lol #also I learned about different kinds of drumsticks today so that's neat!#also posted this on the correct blog this time cause what's the point of having a writing blog if I post my writing to my main blog?#Again: I don't expect this to be perceived as good but tbh fanfic doesn't have to be good and I had fun lmfao so I hope you did too!#alright Leyna's out goodnight folks

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dustedmagazine · 6 years

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Dust, Volume 4, Number 8

Sad Baxter

For the latest installment in our often-monthly roundup of shorter reviews, we've got an elusively rare CDR, a brief discussion of "Mallcore," the merging of Arabic tones with a free jazz style of performance, and some lovely, understated Aussie songwriting. Contributors include Bill Meyer, Jonathan Shaw, Jennifer Kelly, and Justin Cober-Lake

Anne-James Chaton/Andy Moor —Tout Ce Que Je Sais (Unsounds)

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Tout Ce Que Je Sais (All That I Know) is the fourth cohesive recording project by vocalist Anne-James Chaton and guitarist Andy Moor, and the second under their Heretics project. Sonically, it comes full circle to the strengths of their marvelous debut, Le Journaliste. Stripped back to what the two men can do live, certain strengths come to the fore. Moor’s guitar playing, an amalgam of chugging riffs, melodic permutations and those emotion-overloading near-explosions that have been his gift to the Ex for decades, is simply fantastic. You could just listen him do his stuff and the only thing you’d be missing is the way he shadows, underlines and propels the stark unfuckwithable authority of Chaton’s delivery. The Frenchman sounds undeniable reading the contents of his wallet, but the contents here — Francophone texts borrowed from or written about heretical figures that have endorsed the idea of undoing something — can’t help but add gravity to the music. Simultaneously freewheeling and unmovable, no matter what you’ve been listening to lately, this is one record that you really ought to know.

Bill Meyer

Neon Tiger—Accessorize (Bogus Collective)

Accessorize by Neon Tiger

Mallcore is a thing, it seems, so much so that multiple, competing subgenres lay claim to the label. One doesn’t know whether to laugh or weep. Neon Tiger��s recent EP sure doesn’t clarify anything. A few of the tracks scan as celebratory invocations of the climate-controlled corporate space of the late-twentieth century shopping mall, and the various consumer pleasures to be had therein. A few tunes feature weirdly distorted baritone vocals (including “Waiting in Line,” which turns out to be a couple sections of Tina Turner’s “What’s Love Got to Do with It?” chopped up and slowed down a cycle or three; perversely, it’s compelling listening). The distortion misshapes the vocals discomfitingly enough to suggest a measure of critical distance from all the logos and fluorescent lighting and foodcourt linoleum. But it’s hard to say for sure what attitude Neon Tiger takes toward its subject matter. In that way, the EP is a perfect postmodern object—mystifying surfaces, ambivalent values, with only the commodity form as a legible presence.

Jonathan Shaw

Luke Stewart—Works for Upright Bass and Amplifier (Astral Spirits)

Works for Upright Bass and Amplifier by Luke Stewart

There was a time when you had an excuse to not know who Luke Stewart was if you were not hip to Washington, DC’s jazz scene. Given his membership in the fiery improvising-for-justice quintet Irreversible Entanglements, that time is coming to an end. But that’s only one rock on a veritable heap of live-performance and community-building work that dwarfs his still-slender discography (debut efforts by Heart of the Ghost, Heroes are Gang Leaders, Mean Crow, Trio OOO). To that you can add the 31-year-old bassist’s solo cassette. Rather typically, his voice on his instrument is strong, but it does not speak alone. First comes a burrowing feedback tone, which morphs and recurs throughout the nearly half-hour long first piece as if to say that even when you’re alone, you’re not alone. Sometimes Stewart uses that continuous presence as a springboard for knotted, bursting figures; others he lets the amplification add a red, ragged glow to sprinting pizzicato forays. Turns out that the upright bass and amplifier make good company when Stewart’s giving out the working orders.

Bill Meyer

Leo Mullins—Being Here Is Everything (Self-Released)

Being Here is Everything by Leo Mullins

Leo Mullins, an Australian songwriter also affiliated with the Small Knives, makes a low-key but excellent folk-tinged full-length here, with shimmering spiderwebs of acoustic picking and soft shadowy melodies. “Weight of the World,” with its quietly gorgeous harmonies, is maybe the pick of the litter; it is melancholic and uplifting at once, and the guitar cuts through shifting vocal textures with a clean, sure resonance. Mullins brings in Amy Galloway and Kirti Mills to add subtle, pretty embellishments to a couple of songs, the slyly percussive “This Paper Boat” cushioned and softened with dual vocals at the chorus (that’s Mills), the drone-y mysteries of “Linger On” enhanced with Galloway’s wavery unisons (she also sings on the very lovely “Weight of the World"). This latter cut is one of two to feature Mick Turner of the Dirty Three on guitar. He bows his instrument on “Linger On,” adding to the VU-ish mesh of tones and undertones that flicker through that cut. “Let the Light In” also bears his imprint, though unassumingly, in the glittering lattices of picked acoustic that are hemmed in with bells. The songs take shape slowly out of mists and aura and tone, shiver like rainbows for a little while and then subside into the air, all the prettier for their evanescence.

Jennifer Kelly

Finn Loxbo—Eter (Gikt)

Apparently Finn Loxbo is a restless sort. The Swedish musician has played punky electric bass in the jazz trio Doglife, navigated his electric guitar through the busy traffic of the Mats Gustafsson’s Fire Orchestra and recorded an album of pensive folk-rock for Kning. Now comes a solo CD, the first release by the Stockholm-based Gikt label, comprising solo improvisations on the steel-stringed acoustic guitar. Is this the real Finn? Probably not, anymore than any one good thing you do sums up the real you. But he’s pretty good at it, and it concentrates talents he’s likely developed in his other endeavors. Loxbo seems to have prepared his instruments strings and mic-ed them closely, yielding gamelan-like sonorities on one piece, Derek Bailey meets razor wire fence sound-spikes on another and soft abrasions on a third. Each of the album’s seven tracks proceeds with a lucidity that suggests his songwriter’s mind does not shut off when he puts away the vocal microphone. File this with the work of Bailey, David Stackenäs, and Norberto Lobo, but don’t just file it away.

Bill Meyer

Mutilation Rites—Chasm (Gilead Media)

Chasm by Mutilation Rites

This record completes Mutilation Rites’ transformation from a black metal band flirting with death metal, to a death metal band that sometimes plays black metal riffs. When Mutilation Rites began dallying with deathy rhythms and chunky chords on Harbinger (2014), it was worrying stuff: it suggested a band flailing for a sense of identity, and the resulting record was uneven, at best. Mutilation Rites’ more significant commitment to death metal on Chasm turns out to be an enlivening move (pun intended, hardy-fucking-har). This sort of music isn’t supposed to be fun, but on Chasm the band sounds loose and confident, like they’re enjoying themselves. Maybe that’s partially due to their decision to cut the tracks for the record at Brooklyn’s Saint Vitus, a venue the band plays regularly. In any case, Chasm is a good record, and folks who really loved Mutilation Rites’ first few EPs needn’t fret: “Putrid Decomposition,” the longest track on the album and ironically the one with the most death metal title, has the fleet, jagged riffing that captures the band at their blackest.

Jonathan Shaw

Shelton/Mofjell—Uncovered short run CDR (Singlespeed)

Uncovered by Shelton Mofjell

Ole Mofjell kicks off Uncovered with a blast of force. Unrelenting but texturally varied, it makes this clear; you’re not in for an easy ride. In short order Aram Shelton joins him, blowing so hard and low that you might ask, “who’s the tenor player?” Ride the wave into the next track and the pitch territory moves upward, and then the question changes to, “how does he make an alto sound like that?” Time and experience have darkened and deepened Shelton’s instrumental voice, which has shed the diamond brightness that he wielded in various Chicago-based ensembles in the earliest years of the century. But his fluency has increased, and there’s no better place to hear it than in the company of a drummer like Mofjell. Each player shifts tone and tack in a second, using silence as well as motion to give the other room to take deep dives into the complexity of interactions with their instruments and each other. Caveat — the physical edition of this album is a pressing of 100 professionally duplicated discs that you might only be able to get by attending one of Shelton’s concerts or contacting him directly via his webpage or the Singlespeed site. But if you’re not into keeping the international postage racket afloat, there’s always Bandcamp!

Bill Meyer

Sad Baxter—So Happy (Cold Lunch)

So Happy by Sad Baxter

Sad Baxter’s “Sick-Outt” does the mid-1990s ramp up from relatively quiet, melodic verse to screaming, crashing, unhinged chorus in a way that few bands even attempt these days, and if you’re thinking Hole, that’s because Deezy Violet’s a girl. The real reference is Nirvana, here and in the slow building guitar-and-cymbals firestorm that is “Wash,” a transformation from clamped down palm-muted tension to full on feedback fused noise. Violet’s partner in all this, Alex Mojaverian, builds a bristling, shivering dissonant wall of percussion and amp buzz around a voice that snakes around curvy melodies like the Muffs’ Kim Shattuck or, more recently, Speedy Ortiz’s Sadie Dupuis. Sweetness and melody lurk in the intervals between bursts of splintering noise, hooking a finger to lure you in for the kill.

Jennifer Kelly

Manas—Live At (Null Zone)

Live At by MANAS

This cassette, which was recorded last summer at Fresh Produce Records in Macon GA, drives home a point that’s never exactly been a secret. These guys are punks. Guitarist Tashi Dorji may have been raised in Bhutan and he and drummer Thom Nguyen may operate within the realm of freely improvised music, but they're writing their own rule book. This half-hour performance rolls, slashes and rumbles in some pretty rocking ways; they play with an improvisers’ faith that their music will create its own form, but also with an abandon that suggests they really don’t care if someone doesn’t get it; they sound really loud; and out of all the places where they could have made a record, they picked a shop that (per photographic evidence sourced from a Yelp review) puts all four Kiss solo LPs on the wall. That’s plenty punk enough! Sobering up for a second, the music on this tape evinces more nuance and space than other Manas recordings, and sports their clearest recording quality to date. Rock on.

Bill Meyer

Gordon Grdina's The Marrow—Ejdeha (Songlines)

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Gordon Grdina's been merging his jazz-based guitar work and his oud studies for a decade and a half now, finding his way into Middle Eastern traditions while integrating his own voice. With his Marrow quartet, he's expanded the strangeness of what he does by opening space for bassist Mark Helias and cellist Hank Roberts, each of whom toy with the function and sound of their own instruments on new album Ejdeha. “Idiolect” lets each of the three musicians shine (percussionist Hamin Honari mostly stays steady here) while revealing Grdina's gift for composition. The track ebbs and flows, trading melodies and shifting intensity across its eight minutes before its surprising end. The piece relies on Arabic tones, but feels like a free jazz approach to performance, the sort of blend that Grdina can deliver in a way that's both comfortable and alien. “Ejdeha” pulses in a different way, its heavy beat thumping through as the quartet finds an unlikely groove. Grdina and his bandmates have figured out how to keep a grounding in various traditions while still sounding surprising.

Justin Cober-Lake

#dusted magazine #dust #anne-james chaton #andy moor #neon tiger #luke stewart #leo mullins #finn loxbo #mutilation rites #aram shelton #ole mofjell #manas #gordon grdina #bill meyer #jonathan shaw #jennifer kelly #justin cober-lake

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chrisbitten123 · 4 years

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Music, Economics, and Beyond

"The whole point of digital music is the risk-free grazing"

--Cory Doctorow

Cory Doctorow, Canadian journalist and co-editor and of the off-beat blog Boing Boing, is an activist in favor of liberalizing copyright laws and a proponent of the Creative Commons non-profit organization devoted to expanding the range of creative works available for others to build upon legally and to share. Doctorow and others continue to write prolifically about the apocalyptic changes facing Intellectual Property in general and the music industry in specific.

In this article, we will explore the cataclysm facing U.S. industry through the portal example of the music industry, a simple industry in comparison to those of automotive or energy. However, in the simplicity of this example we may uncover some lessons that apply to all industries.

In his web-article, "The Inevitable March of Recorded Music Towards Free," Michael Arrington tells us that music CD sales continue to plummet alarmingly. "Artists like Prince and Nine Inch Nails are flouting their labels and either giving music away or telling their fans to steal it... Radiohead, which is no longer controlled by their label, Capitol Records, put their new digital album on sale on the Internet for whatever price people want to pay for it." As many others have iterated in recent years, Arrington reminds us that unless effective legal, technical, or other artificial impediments to production can be created, "simple economic theory dictates that the price of music [must] fall to zero as more 'competitors' (in this case, listeners who copy) enter the market."

Unless sovereign governments that subscribe to the Universal Copyright Convention take drastic measures, such as the proposed mandatory music tax to prop up the industry, there virtually exist no economic or legal barriers to keep the price of recorded music from falling toward zero. In response, artists and labels will probably return to focusing on other revenue streams that can, and will, be exploited. Specifically, these include live music, merchandise, and limited edition physical copies of their music.

According to author Stephen J. Dubner, "The smartest thing about the Rolling Stones under Jagger's leadership is the band's workmanlike, corporate approach to touring. The economics of pop music include two main revenue streams: record sales and touring profits. Record sales are a) unpredictable; and b) divided up among many parties. If you learn how to tour efficiently, meanwhile, the profits--including not only ticket sales but also corporate sponsorship, t-shirt sales, etc.,--can be staggering. You can essentially control how much you earn by adding more dates, whereas it's hard to control how many records you sell." ("Mick Jagger, Profit Maximizer," Freakonomics Blog, 26 July 2007).

In order to get a handle on the problems brought about by digital media in the music industry, we turn to the data most relied upon by the industry. This data comes through Neilsen SoundScan which operates a system for collecting information and tracking sales. Most relevant to the topic of this column, SoundScan provides the official method for tracking sales of music and music video products throughout the United States and Canada. The company collects data on a weekly basis and makes it available every Wednesday to subscribers from all facets of the music industry. These include executives of record companies, publishing firms, music retailers, independent promoters, film entertainment producers and distributors, and artist management companies. Because SoundScan provides the sales data used by Billboard, the leading trade magazine, for the creation of its music charts, this role effectively makes SoundScan the official source of sales records in the music industry.

Quo vadis? According to Neilsen Soundscan, "In a fragmented media world where technology is reshaping consumer habits, music continues to be the soundtrack of our daily lives. According to Music 360 2014, Nielsen's third annual in-depth study of the tastes, habits and preferences of U.S. music listeners, 93% of the country's population listens to music, spending more than 25 hours each week tuning into their favorite tunes."

For most Americans, music is the top form of entertainment. In a 2014 survey, 75% of respondents stated that they actively chose to listen to music over other media entertainment. Music is part of our lives throughout all times of the day. One fourth of music listening takes place while driving or riding in vehicles. Another 15% of our weekly music time takes place at work or while doing household chores.

It has become no surprise over the past five years that CD sales have diminished while download listening and sales have increased. Bob Runett of Poynter Online comments, "Start waving the cigarette lighters and swaying side to side--the love affair between music fans and their cell phones is getting more intense. Phones with music capabilities will account for 54 percent of handset sales globally in five years, according to a report consulting firm Strategy Analytics Inc. The report suggests that we keep watching the growth of cellular music decks (CMDs), devices that deliver excellent sound quality and focus on music more than images." ("A Few Notes About Music and Convergence," 25 November 2014)

Stephen J. Dubner summed up the mess quite well almost a decade ago. "It strikes me as ironic that a new technology (digital music) may have accidentally forced record labels to abandon the status quo (releasing albums) and return to the past (selling singles). I sometimes think that the biggest mistake the record industry ever made was abandoning the pop single in the first place. Customers were forced to buy albums to get the one or two songs they loved; how many albums can you say that you truly love, or love even 50% of the songs--10? 20? But now the people have spoken: they want one song at a time, digitally please, maybe even free." ("What's the Future of the Music Industry? A Freakonomics Quorum," 20 September 2007).

Like many of us, I (Dr. Sase) also have worked as a musician/producer/engineer/indie label owner releasing esoterica since the 1960s. While occasionally made an adequate living off my music, I also developed my talents as an economist, earning a doctorate in that field. Therefore, I comment from this dual perspective of an economist/musician.

The post-future, as many music pundits call it, does not really differ that much from the past. How and why folks obtain their music continues to reflect at least three related decision drivers. We can summarize the three most relevant as 1) Content, 2) Durability, and 3) Time-Cost. Let us explain further.

1) Content

When I started to record music in the early 1960s, the market was filled with "one-hit wonders." It was the age of AM (amplitude modulation), DJ radio. It was also the age of the 45 RPM record with the hit on the A Side and usually some filler cut on the B Side. It was not uncommon for anyone with a 2-track reel-to-reel to "download" the one hit desired from their favorite radio station. There were few groups that offered entire twelve-inch LPs with mostly great songs. The first such LP that I purchased was Meet the Beatles by those four lads from Liverpool.

During the late 1960s, the industry turned more to "Greatest Hit" collections by groups that had previously turned out a string of AM hits and to "concept" albums. During this golden age of LP sales, the Beatles, the Stones, the Grateful Dead, Yes, King Crimson, and numerous other groups released albums filled with solid content. Bottom line: consumers don't mind paying for product if they feel that they are receiving value.http://www.chrisbitten.com/

2) Durability

Why would someone buy a twelve-inch LP when they could borrow a copy and tape record the songs to a reel-to-reel or, later on, to a compact cassette? The answers at that time were simple. First, it was "cool" to have a great album collection, especially one that a member of the opposite gender could thumb through in one's dorm room. Let us simply say that one's album collection could inform another party about one's tastes and possible sub-culture and personality. Therefore, an attractive collection provided a certain degree of social currency.

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jovandawkins · 4 years

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Music, Economics, and Beyond

"The whole point of digital music is the risk-free grazing" --Cory Doctorow Cory Doctorow, Canadian journalist together with co-editor and of the off-beat blog Boing Boing, is an activist in favor of liberalizing copyright laws and a proponent in the Creative Commons nonprofit organization devoted to expanding the range of creative works available for others to build upon lawfully and to share. Doctorow and others continue to write prolifically about the apocalyptic changes facing Intellectual Property in general along with the music industry in specific. In this article, we will explore the cataclysm facing U. S. industry in the portal example of the music industry, a simple industry in comparison to those of automotive or energy. However , within the simplicity of this example we may uncover some lessons that apply to all industries. In his web-article, "The Inevitable March of Recorded Music Towards Free, " Michael Arrington tells us that music DVD sales continue to plummet alarmingly. "Artists like Prince and Nine Inch Nails are flouting their brands and either giving music away or telling their fans to steal it... Radiohead, which is not any longer controlled by their label, Capitol Records, put their new digital album on sale on the Internet for no matter what price people want to pay for it. " As many others have iterated in recent years, Arrington reminds us that with regard to effective legal, technical, or other artificial impediments to production can be created, "simple economic theory dictates that the price of music [must] fall to zero as more 'competitors' (in the following case, listeners who copy) enter the market. " Unless sovereign governments that subscribe to the Universal Copyright laws Convention take drastic measures, such as the proposed mandatory music tax to prop up the industry, there pretty much exist no economic or legal barriers to keep the price of recorded music from falling toward zero. With response, artists and labels will probably return to focusing on other revenue streams that can, and will, be exploited. Especially, these include live music, merchandise, and limited edition physical copies of their music. According to author Stephen M. Dubner, "The smartest thing about the Rolling Stones under Jagger's leadership is the band's workmanlike, corporate method to touring. The economics of pop music include two main revenue streams: record sales and traveling profits. Record sales are a) unpredictable; and b) divided up among many parties. If you figure out how to tour efficiently, meanwhile, the profits--including not only ticket sales but also corporate sponsorship, t-shirt sales, etc ., --can be staggering. You can essentially control how much you earn by adding more dates, whereas it's hard to overpower how many records you sell. " ("Mick Jagger, Profit Maximizer, " Freakonomics Blog, 26 July 2007). In order to get a handle on the problems brought about by digital media in the music industry, we turn to the data the majority relied upon by the industry. This data comes through Neilsen SoundScan which operates a system for gathering information and tracking sales. Most relevant to the topic of this column, SoundScan provides the official method for tracking gross sales of music and music video products throughout the United States and Canada. The company collects data on a every week basis and makes it available every Wednesday to subscribers from all facets of the music industry. Like for example , executives of record companies, publishing firms, music retailers, independent promoters, film entertainment producers and their distributors, and artist management companies. Because SoundScan provides the sales data used by Billboard, the leading trade magazine, for any creation of its music charts, this role effectively makes SoundScan the official source of sales records inside the music industry. Quo vadis? According to Neilsen Soundscan, "In a fragmented media world where technology is usually reshaping consumer habits, music continues to be the soundtrack of our daily lives. According to Music 360 2014, Nielsen's third annual in-depth study of the tastes, habits and preferences of U. S. music listeners, 93% of the country's population listens to music, spending more than 25 hours each week tuning into their favorite songs. " For most Americans, music is the top form of entertainment. In a 2014 survey, 75% of respondents claimed that they actively chose to listen to music over other media entertainment. Music is part of our lives across all times of the day. One fourth of music listening takes place while driving or riding in autos. Another 15% of our weekly music time takes place at work or while doing household chores. It has end up no surprise over the past five years that CD sales have diminished while download listening and sales get increased. Bob Runett of Poynter Online comments, "Start waving the cigarette lighters and swaying aspect to side--the love affair between music fans and their cell phones is getting more intense. Phones with audio capabilities will account for 54 percent of handset sales globally in five years, according to a report talking to firm Strategy Analytics Inc. The report suggests that we keep watching the growth of cellular tunes decks (CMDs), devices that deliver excellent sound quality and focus on music more than images. " ("A Few Notes About Music and Convergence, " 25 November 2014) Stephen J. Dubner summed in the mess quite well almost a decade ago. "It strikes me as ironic that a new technology (digital music) can have accidentally forced record labels to abandon the status quo (releasing albums) and return to the past (selling singles). I sometimes think that the biggest mistake the record industry ever made was abandoning the pop sole in the first place. Customers were forced to buy albums to get the one or two songs they loved; how many albums can you claim that you truly love, or love even 50% of the songs--10? 20? But now the people have talked: they want one song at a time, digitally please, maybe even free. " ("What's the Future of the Music Sector? A Freakonomics Quorum, " 20 September 2007). Like many of us, I (Dr. Sase) also have worked for a musician/producer/engineer/indie label owner releasing esoterica since the 1960s. While occasionally made an adequate living off my movies, I also developed my talents as an economist, earning a doctorate in that field. Therefore , I thought from this dual perspective of an economist/musician. The post-future, as many music pundits call it, does not really change that much from the past. How and why folks obtain their music continues to reflect at least three linked decision drivers. We can summarize the three most relevant as 1) Content, 2) Durability, and 3) Time-Cost. Let us explain further. 1) Content When I started to record music in the early 1960s, the market has been filled with "one-hit wonders. " It was the age of AM (amplitude modulation), DJ radio. It was also the age of this 45 RPM record with the hit on the A Side and usually some filler cut on the M Side. It was not uncommon for anyone with a 2-track reel-to-reel to "download" the one hit desired from their favorite broadcast station. There were few groups that offered entire twelve-inch LPs with mostly great songs. The first these LP that I purchased was Meet the Beatles by those four lads from Liverpool. Click here Jovan Dawkins During the late nineteen sixties, the industry turned more to "Greatest Hit" collections by groups that had previously turned out a archipelago of AM hits and to "concept" albums. During this golden age of LP sales, the Beatles, your Stones, the Grateful Dead, Yes, King Crimson, and numerous other groups released albums filled with sound content. Bottom line: consumers don't mind paying for product if they feel that they are receiving value. 2) Durability How come would someone buy a twelve-inch LP when they could borrow a copy and tape record the tunes to a reel-to-reel or, later on, to a compact cassette? The answers at that time were simple. First, it was "cool" to have a great album collection, especially one that a member of the opposite gender could thumb through in your dorm room. Let us simply say that one's album collection could inform another party about people's tastes and possible sub-culture and personality. Therefore , an attractive collection provided a certain degree of social currency. May well this account for the resurgence of vinyl in recent years? The second part of the equation came in the form of actual product flexibility. Like current downloads, self-recorded reel-to-reel and cassette tapes generally suffered from some loss of fidelity in the change. More importantly, the integrity and permanence of the media also left something to be desired. Thirty to $ 40 . 00 years ago, tape would flake, break, and tangle around the capston. Unless one backed up their collection for a second-generation tape, many of one's favorite tunes could be lost. Today, computer hard drives crash. Without the expense of additional hard drive and the time involved to make the transfer, the same durability issues ensue. What about CDs? Since several of us who use CD-Rs for multiple purposes know, the technology that instantly burns an image actually leaves a product that remains more delicate and subject to damage in comparison to a commercially fabricated CD, stamped with a metal master. Will the Internet clouds provide the same level of comfort for music producers and listeners? We might just have to wait and see. 3) Time-Cost This third element basically reflects the old "tape is running/time-is-money" economic argument and may explain why younger music-listeners prefer to download songs either legally or illegally. The idea echoes the same economics that led listeners in the 1960s to record their favorite hits off of the radio. That substance of the argument has to do with how an individual values his/her time. If music-lovers works for a low per hour wage (or often no income at all), they will value the time spent downloading, backing up, and switching cuts in terms of what they could be earning during the same time. Let us consider the following example. Assuming that twelve packages or a comparable CD costs $12. 00, a baby-sitter earning $6 per hour could afford to spend even though two hours of time ripping music to achieve the same value. However , someone with a skilled trade or a degree may be earning $24. 00 or more per hour. Spending more than one half hour at ripping would exceed the worth derived. The counter-argument of the time-cost of travelling to a brick-and-mortar music store gets offset by a persons ability to log-on to Amazon or elsewhere in less than a minute and possibly receive free shipping. The market will constantly change as the primary market demographic ages. It happened with the Baby-Boomers of the 1960s and 1970s therefore will happen with Generation X, Y and Z in the current century. The bottom line of all of this debate rests on the fact that a consumer will choose the mode of deliverable that optimizes his/her bundle of values. The following bundle includes quality and quantity of content, durability, and time-cost effectiveness. These remain the lessons that will music makers and music deliverers must understand to survive. The more things change, the more they continue to be the same. "When I'm drivin' in my car, And that man comes on the radio, He's tellin' me more and more, Approximately some useless information, Supposed to fire my imagination, I can't get no, oh no, no, no . inch -Michael Philip Jagger, British Economist, London School of Economics In conclusion, we recognize that certain values inspire consumers as well as businesses. These values include content, durability, and time cost. It does not matter whether the good and service under consideration exists in the form of real, personal, or intellectual property. The premise remains the same for making favorite songs, building automobiles, teaching economics, and providing legal services.

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lemondice · 4 years

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John’s top artists and influences!

Following up Mia’s post, I thought I’d go through a few of my own top few artists, and talk about how they influenced my work in Lemon Knife. I’m going to go chronologically:

Talking Heads

The Talking Heads were the first band I started listening to that wasn’t a group my parents introduced do. I borrowed Little Creatures from a friend (though I think it was actually his parents’ CD), enjoyed it a lot, and then asked for Stop Making Sense for Easter when I was 13. I immediately fell in love with the Talking Heads as a kid because of how goofy the songs were. A song about a psycho killer? About things burning? Sign teen John up! A lot of the other music I had heard (and still a lot of music out there) is myopically focused on love, heartbreak, romance, sex, etc., and as a teen geek/ace (though I didn’t know that part at the time), all of that was the furthest possible from relevance to my life. I loved the Talking Heads because they sung about different things and quirky things, and that love holds up today and inspires me to try and make interesting lyrics or take on interesting points of view. They also combined those lyrics with arrangements that were both well-made and extremely danceable, making every element of each song stand the test of time.

Queens of the Stone Age

QotSA were a band I heard from their songs in Guitar Hero and Rock Band as a teenager, quickly enjoyed the sound of, and soon sought out their most acclaimed album Songs for the Deaf. Songs for the Deaf is a fantastic album all around, but to get particular, that album is probably my biggest influence as a drummer (coupled with the other Homme-Grohl collaboration, Them Crooked Vultures) - I love the raw energy Dave Grohl brings to the drums on it, the hard-hitting fills, and the almost mathematical structure he gives the parts. Dave knows when to throw in a crazy fill, when to throw in a simple but fast and powerful beat, and when (rarely) to play something more mellow to give space to the rest of the band - I can only hope I end up as good a drummer as he is on that record.

Warren Zevon

I got into Warren Zevon later in high school, and his lyrics had a similar influence to the Talking Heads. Warren would pick all kinds of interesting themes and perspectives for his lyrics, while infusing them with a consistent clever cynicism that I also loved.

Crazy Arm

For those tragically unaware, Crazy Arm are a British folk/punk band who have made a wide range of excellent music but remain relatively little known outside of (and possibly even within) the United Kingdom. I downloaded their albums Union City Breath and Born to Ruin in high school, and probably the biggest influence they had on me was opening me to the fact that a band doesn’t have to just play one thing. The Sex Pistols just play punk, and that’s fine. A lot of folk singers just strum acoustic guitars, and that’s fine too. But Crazy Arm, and another of my favorite artists Frank Turner, play with a huge variety of sounds. Just on Union City Breath alone, they have a purely acoustic ballad, a full speed fiery punk song, a lot of midtempo rock songs, and many variations and shades in between. That variation inspired my songwriting/structure building with Lemon Knife - the first song we ever wrote was a hard rock song built around a Muse-inspired riff Mia had prepared, while the second was a superfast punk song. From there, we’ve tried to explore as much as possible while keeping a somewhat consistent sonic palette so that there’s still some root identity. I love that on each of our albums so far, there are several songs that sound like nothing else we’ve made, while still sounding like Lemon Knife.

#lemonknife #musicinfluences

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sinceileftyoublog · 4 years

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Top 50 Albums of 2019

The end of a year, the end of a decade. Lists are dumb fun, yes, but here at SILY, over the past five years, with our year-end lists, we have hoped to expose you to artists you may have passed over at any point in time, even if you do live under a rock and have never heard of Ariana Grande.

With contributions as usual from Lauren Lederman and Daniel Palella, here are 50 records from last year that we loved.

50. Greet Death - New Hell (Deathwish)

When I recommend Greet Death’s New Hell to people, it’s hard to convince them that what they’re about to listen to is actually something closer to shoegaze and, well, not the aggressive rock you might expect. But New Hell is intense in its guitar-driven sound and its lyrics. It’s an album of loneliness and wrestling with doubt, one that blatantly asks, “What do I do if I don’t feel like getting well again?” on album standout “Do You Feel Nothing?” Also impressive is the way Logan Gaval’s and Sam Boyhtari’s voices both duel with and complement each other as their longer songs build and build, enveloping you until you’re left with gentle guitar; take the anxiety and calm woven together in "You’re Gonna Hate What You’ve Done" as a perfect example. - Lauren Lederman

49. 100 gecs - 1000 gecs (Dog Show)

There is simply nothing that sounds like 1000 gecs, and this is no detriment to its frenzied brilliance. With a wide array of already existing of music that experiments with a sort of post-pop, post-internet mentality (PC Music, Vaporwave, etc.), and with the ease of access to digital production tools, it is truly remarkable to stumble into something that one can describe as unique. 100 gecs have the same maximal sensibilities of their PC Music colleagues/collaborators (label-head AG Cook recently put out a brilliant remix of single “money machine,” and they are close friends with umru), but their mission never seems to explore any kind of irony, nor parody of any of its numerous influences (which ranges from just about every MySpace-era niche genre). Rather, 100 gecs create a sort of fever dream that staggers wildly through all of the sounds they’ve come to love through the years. And while it seems their most common critique is that their sort of unabashed love for these cloying sounds of our teen years betrays a sense of actual earnestness, you will find through interviews, performances, and the overall image of 100 gecs that the work here is of pure bliss and joy. Dylan Brady and Laura Les make what they view as simple pop songs, and the flourishes, which veer into jarring and absurd, are just them smirking behind the scenes, like two savants on a sugar-high. 1000 gecs is a record I didn’t know how to process at first glance, but when I looked back on its prevalence in my listening habits (it was my #1 most listened album of the year across all platforms, with “money machine” being my most listened song), its infectiousness cannot be overstated. - Daniel Palella

48. Tony Molina - Songs From San Mateo County (Smoking Room)

For his longest album yet (of 14 minutes and 56 seconds), singer-songwriter Tony Molina scraped total gems from unreleased and unfinished material spanning from 2009 to 2015, demos and riffs that occupy the garage and jangle rock side of his output more than pop sheen. What stands out, as usual, is the way in which not only he packs a ton into minute-long ditties (the longest song, the 2-minute “I’m Not Down”, manages to squeeze in a bridge to a guitar solo) but uses the same simple elements to make totally different songs. Take the one-two punch of “Fallin’” and “Been Here Before”. The former sees a creeping guitar line segue into an explosion of power pop, whereas the latter starts where the former leaves off and tails at the end. Or maybe “Not The Way To Be” leading into “Can’t Find My Way” and then “Don’t See The Point”, fuzzy rockers that nonetheless occupy contrasting emotional territory. The songs on Songs From San Mateo County are introspective or bummed-out, and while a less-skilled artist would be unable to musically differentiate between the two moods, Molina can do so with a few riffs or words.

Read the rest of our review here.

47. Full of Hell - Weeping Choir (Relapse)

To think of the new album from Maryland/central PA grindcore band Full of Hell, Weeping Choir, as a companion album to their previous one, Trumpeting Ecstasy, is a bit misleading. While lead singer and songwriter Dylan Walker told me that he “was in the same headspace” when writing both albums, none of the band members, Walker included, wanted Choir to seem like a part two. In fact, it’s the band’s best record yet because it seems definitive and stands alone, showing the different ways the Maryland band can envelop you with brutal intensity.

Read our interview with Full of Hell’s Dylan Walker here.

46. dumb - Club Nites (Mint)

Given the aesthetic image put forward by dumb, from the minimal presentation of their record cover to the chiming jangle of their guitars, it is easy to lump them in with post-punk, a label that is trending more and more popular with the success of groups like Omni and Uranium Club. But there is a unique rambunctiousness that really shines through in dumb’s music—seeing them perform earlier this year, when the label of “post-punk” was brought up in conversation, one member noted that they thought of them more as just a rock band. The raw energy and hook-ready quality of their music backs this up—there is no navel-gazing or self-seriousness with this band. “Beef Hits,” from its first moments, rides on such an infectiously catchy hook and doubles down with sarcastic, snarling vocals, ending on a saxophone solo that somehow perfectly and cathartically captures the energy built through the song. Arbitrary as it may be, dumb simply seem to have too much carefree fun to care about their genre image. -DP

45. Joan Shelley - Like The River Loves The Sea (No Quarter)

The truth is often somewhere in the middle. On her fifth solo album Like The River Loves The Sea, Kentucky folk singer-songwriter Joan Shelley fades back and forth between sweet devotion and ultimately independent realism, whether looking at the seasons of a relationship or the changing earth that’s a muse for so many of her songs. Inspired by her home of Kentucky, recorded in Iceland, sounding like Laurel Canyon–Shelley has never been more attuned as she is here to the topography of place and how it affects how we live our lives.

Read our review of Joan Shelley’s recent Chicago show here.

44. Nilüfer Yanya - Miss Universe (ATO)

When I first saw the credits for Miss Universe, the long-awaited debut album from British singer-songwriter, guitarist, and composer Nilüfer Yanya, I thought it would be a case of too many cooks: There are nine different producers on the record (though no more than two on each song). Fortunately, the vision is singularly Yanya’s. Her malleable sense of composition and performance allows her to take even songs she wrote when she was 14 or 15 and make them totally new.

Read our preview of Nilufer Yanya’s Sleeping Village show last year here.

43. Shura - forevher (Secretly Canadian)

Though Forevher, the second album from English singer-songwriter Shura, is inspired by her long-distance relationship and life as a queer, non-religious person in today’s world, she wants people to recognize themselves in her music and stories. The album’s artwork, based on Auguste Rodin’s sculpture The Kiss, sets the context for a universal record, accessible by those of different backgrounds, interests, types of knowledge, and even levels of prudishness. Yes, Shura herself said that on standout “the stage”, when she sings, “we don’t wanna dance / we just wanna” and then doesn’t complete the sentence, that she wanted her parents to be able to listen to the album without blushing. This isn’t self-censorship or pandering; instead, Shura finds empowerment the more people listen. “d’ya hate me?” she asks homophobes on “flyin’”, winking, while borrowing keyboard lines from Elton John, one of the most mainstream-accepted LGBTQ+ people in the world, daring them to say “yes” with an army of supporters behind her.

Read our preview of Shura’s Empty Bottle show last year here.

42. Patty Griffin - Patty Griffin (PGM Recordings/Thirty Tigers)

If you read reviews of Patty Griffin’s albums or analyses of her songs, you’ll see writers make glaringly different assumptions about the perspective from which she’s singing or even what the song’s about. To me, that’s not so much obtuseness as it is Griffin’s strength at a songwriter. Her latest, self-titled album embodies this complexity perhaps more than any of her career so far. Co-produced with Craig Ross and laden with Spanish and Celtic instrumental influences on top of the usual blues and folk, it’s also her most instrumentally varied. Written during and after her successful battle with breast cancer, Patty Griffin is a statement of feminism and ultimately melancholy humanism, universal, global, and determined.

Read our preview of Patty Griffin’s show at the Vic Theatre last year here.

41. Hand Habits - placeholder (Saddle Creek)

Like many, I first became aware of Meg Duffy when I saw them steal the show with their shredding and guitar tones while playing as part of Kevin Morby’s band. Upon further research, I came to see their name pop up in the credits for some of my favorite guitar-oriented music of the decade, mostly unaware of their solo project Hand Habits. Well, with their second solo LP placeholder (and first recorded in a studio and with a band), Duffy has not only blasted beyond the label of “secret weapon”–they’ve established themselves as one of today’s finest songwriters. At once more concise and more widespread than its predecessor Wildly Idle (Humble Before The Void), placeholder puts on display Duffy’s wise observations on internal strife and relationships, at once personal and universal.

Read our preview of Hand Habits’ show at the Hideout last year here.

40. Ariana Grande - thank u, next (Republic)

With finger-snapping beats, skronking bass, and remarkably buoyant vocal performances, Ariana Grande’s topped herself mere months later. If Sweetener was Grande’s tour de force of empathy, thank u, next is everything at once: Over a year removed from the Manchester arena bombing that shook her, Grande looks back on simultaneous trauma, relationships started and failed because of it, and her quest for self-love, all in seeming real time.

Read our preview of Ariana Grande’s United Center show last year here.

39. Shannon Lay - August (Sub Pop)

August exemplifies so much that Lay does well. The surprisingly linear spontaneity of opener “Death Up Close”–which starts with a misstep and eventually features a Mikal Cronin saxophone solo–is contrasted by the flaneur of “Nowhere”, an ode to enjoying the circular journey without an end, where her voice travels in the opposite direction of the song’s lilting melody. “Will I ever see through?” Lay asks, but not too bothered, layered over drums and hand claps. She sees the humor and delight in the smallest moments: Gorgeous and simple standout “Shuffling Stoned” is a scene in a record store in New York City, a customer buying weed from his dealer as small spider crawls on his stack of records. Many people would want the spider killed, but Lay sees it as no less a sign of life than anybody else. Most remarkable is “November”, dedicated to the woman left behind, Molly Drake, the mother of the late Nick. “Molly did you feel the sting / Of November songs gone quiet,” she asks, again not expecting an answer but knowing that asking the question, embodying another’s state of mind, is what’s important.

Read our profile of Shannon Lay here.

38. Carly Rae Jepsen - Dedicated (School Boy/Interscope)

On Dedicated, Carly Rae Jepsen goes disco and sounds as risqué in her lyrics as ever, veering off the 80′s-inspired pop music of EMOTION in favor of something slinky and sleek. While love in all its excess and sincerity is still her driving force, it’s not necessarily as straightforward as her past hits “Run Away With Me” or “Call Me Maybe”. It’s celebrated in “Too Much”, and its inviting question, “Are you down?” It’s now an altered state on “No Drug Like Me”. It’s the self-love of “Party for One”, the desperate jealousy of “I’ll Be Your Girl”. Love is everything, and Jepsen’s pop music consistently captures that, whether dressed up in neon rose glasses or swaying under a sparkling disco ball. - LL

37. joni void - Mise En Abyme (Constellation)

Mise en abyme refers to putting a copy of an image within itself, but for the Joni Void album of the same name, it’s more like a story within a story. So it normally goes for Montreal-based producer Jean Cousin. Like his debut under the Joni Void moniker (he previously went by johnny_ripper), 2017′s Selfless, Mise En Abyme includes vocal samples of Cousin’s various friends and collaborators in music, though their output is wordless, their voices chopped and screwed and pitch-shifted out of recognition.

Read our interview with joni void here.

36. Mavis Staples - We Get By (ANTI-)

If you had told me that a singer’s new album contained the line, “All that we are is the living ghost of our youth,” Mavis Staples would have been my last guess as to who that singer was. Then again, the reflective, often somber nature of her latest great album We Get By makes sense: her sister Yvonne passed away last year, and she’s only six years removed from the death of her other sister, Cleotha. As such, she’s mourning again the absence of both of those women and her father, Pops. Combine that with the current political climate, one that Staples has spent her entire life fighting, and you start to become surprised that the album’s not straight-up dour. But Staples doesn’t do depressing: She finds beauty in the darkest moments, using them to raise up both herself and others.

Read our review of Mavis Staples’ Pitchfork Music Festival 2019 set here.

35. Better Oblivion Community Center - Better Oblivion Community Center (Dead Oceans)

The idea of a supergroup is a familiar one in the rock world, but often, there’s a feeling of it being a sort of manufactured corniness when you shove rock stars together on one album. But what about two songwriters with dedicated fans, one at the start of her career and the other more established? Better Oblivion feels like true collaboration between artists with deep respect for the other. Phoebe Bridgers and Conor Oberst may be kindred spirits. They excel in storytelling, placing you in the vividly formed world of their songs. Combined, this shines throughout their self-titled debut, a lovely collection of folk songs. The cool ease of Bridgers’ voice and familiar warmth of Oberst’s seems like a natural fit. Supergroups often come around for one album; here’s hoping that this project sees more than just this one. - LL

34. Orville Peck - Pony (Sub Pop)

From the opening, lone guitar of “Dead of Night”, there’s a sense of traditional country western that permeates through Orville Peck’s debut. Peck is playful in the way he contorts words (see “Spend a Johnny’s cash” on the first track) and iconic imagery from the genre, all with a voice straight out of some other decade, one that’d be at home over the crackly AM waves of radio or in the dark corner of a bar.

There’s plenty of the familiar throughout the album: banjo, lap steel guitar, the gallop of “Buffalo Pace”. But Peck’s a master at playing with the machismo and “traditional” masculinity we so often ascribe to rugged cowboys with no home and no name. There are horses and dusty roads. It’s tough and tender. And sure, technically anyone can ride off into the sunset, heading westward and feeling rebellious. But how many can reclaim that free spirit as a masked queer cowboy with a secret identity? - LL

33. Charli XCX - Charli (Atlantic)

If you follow Charli XCX on any form of social media, you know she’s not afraid to tell you how iconic she is with every release, whether an album, a mixtape, or a music video. Naturally, she opens her first official studio release since 2014 with a song called “Next Level Charli” and declares, “I got hard, I go fast, and I never look back.” And that’s Charli, always looking to level up. Her collaborations in particular are where she shines, equally carrying the spotlight she so effortlessly commands while elevating her partners, whether its Christine and the Queens on the near perfect “Gone”, Sky Ferreira, Yaeji, or the Haim sisters.

Sure, she veers into the more expected sounds of mainstream pop, taking the stunning “Track 10” from Pop 2 and morphing it into radio-friendly fare featuring everyone’s favorite, Lizzo. But that’s the beauty of Charli: She can make a mainstream hit from one of her most ambitious tracks, or she can make a song like “2099”, closing out her album with a sound that feels like it’s straight out of the future. - LL

32. Andy Stott - It Should Be Us (Modern Love)

The moods and worlds created through the records of Andy Stott reflect the grey scale that has become a signature for his album covers. This is not to say that they are one-dimensionally mechanical or bleak. Rather, Stott’s emotive power reveals itself in how he uses the cold sounds of dub and techno to reach into the ethereal and personal. Whereas previous records have dabbled with a sort of neo-futurism—Too Many Voices, for example, explores a sort of 80′s pastiche—It Should Be Us more readily embraces a sort of cracked techno veneer, focusing in on the broken quality he is known for injecting into his sounds. Synths and drums clip, distort, wail, and stutter—not as moments of transition, but as the central pieces of his songs. And while it does not have the apparent warmth or beauty of records like Luxury Problems, It Should Be Us is remarkably effective in creating an atmosphere that extends beyond dullness or despair. -DP

31. The Highwomen - The Highwomen (Low Country Sound/Elektra)

There’s a real thrill in the twelve tracks that make up The Highwomen’s debut album. Four stunning voices from country--a few Grammy winners, an Americana violinist who’s not afraid to get weird, a country songwriter with a stellar reputation--create a beautiful, heartfelt, and even funny collection of songs that explore what it means to be a woman in the past, present, and future. While “Redesigning Women” is a sweet first single, it only scratches the surface of the scope of these songs. “My Name Can’t Be Mama” is genuinely funny, and “If She Ever Leaves Me” is a stunning love song that belongs in the country pantheon. But the true thesis of the album is the title track, telling the stories of women from different eras, encompassing different struggles, and featuring Yola’s powerful voice.

Their voices harmonize to round out the song, declaring “And we’ll come back again, and again.” It’s a powerful call to generations of women, and you can’t help but hope the Highwomen will return, too. - LL

30. Great Grandpa - Four of Arrows (Double Double Whammy)

You might not recognize Great Grandpa if you were only familiar with Plastic Cough. While that album’s catchy slacker-grunge tunes could inspire spirited, sweaty singalongs, it’s incredible to see what’s evolved since then into their latest release. It seems to make sense that the album opens with almost twenty seconds of silence before the band comes in, voices in harmony, a sweet sound to usher you in to this new, lush world they’ve created together. There’s the hopefulness of “Bloom”, the rippling calm of “Mono no Aware”, or the ache of “Split Up the Kids”. You can feel it in the stunning waver of vocalist Alex Menne’s voice in “Digger”. It’s an album full of reflection and self-evaluation, a band finding a new confidence in evolution. - LL

29. Julia Kent - Temporal (The Leaf Label)

Originally written for dance/theater, Temporal, the latest great piece of music from NYC cellist and composer Julia Kent, is one of the rare albums described as “haunting” that actually fits the bill. Consisting of just cello and synthesizer, the record sees Kent exploring textures and timbres you may associate with either her acoustic instrument of choice or the modes in which she processes them, but never in such a concretely spacial way.

Read the rest of our review here.

28. Drugdealer - Raw Honey (Mexican Summer)

Los Angeles collective Drugdealer’s second album of pop is another massive step forward for Michael Collins and company. Bookended by two gorgeous instrumentals, Raw Honey is as its title suggests: sweet without being forced. Whether Collins or one of many guest vocalists, the timbres of the vocals blend in with instrumentation that’s wonderfully melancholic and lyrics unafraid to be positive. “Nobody wants to feel they’ve got to hide themselves,” they sing on bouncy ear worm “Lost In My Dream”. In an era of musical scenes and constant debates on authenticity, Drugdealer successfully capture the essence of something they’re not, that you think on a surface level they’re simply trying to emulate, all through sheer musicianship and songwriting smarts.

Read our preview of Drugdealer’s Sleeping Village show last year here.

27. Julia Jacklin - Crushing (Polyvinyl)

But what’s powerful about Crushing isn’t Jacklin’s admittance of her emotions and thoughts but how she reclaims them. Ownership over one’s body–and one’s self–is a running theme throughout the record, starting immediately with opening track “Body”, a true story about her boyfriend getting the two of them kicked off a plane because he smoked in the bathroom. “I’m not a good woman when you’re around,” Jacklin realizes, planning action, “heading to the city to get my body back.” Slowly building around the simple statement, “It’s just my life / It’s just my body,” the song refuses to downplay the importance of Jacklin’s increasing sense of security. On “Head Alone”, she’s a step further: “I don’t want to be touched all the time / I raised by body up to be mine,” she sings confidently, pausing, and letting out a smirking, “hah,” fully knowing how ridiculous it is that she still has to say this in 2019. By this time on the record, she’s already spitting out mantras with ease: “Yeah, I’ll say it ‘til he understands / You can love somebody without using your hands.”

Read our preview of Julia Jacklin’s Schuba’s show last year here.

26. Art Ensemble of Chicago - We Are On The Edge: A 50th Anniversary Celebration (Erased Tapes/Pi Recordings)

“We are on the edge of existing,” proclaims Moor Mother (Camae Ayewa) on the title track of We Are On The Edge: A 50th Anniversary Celebration, the new album from The Art Ensemble of Chicago. It’s a statement that could not exemplify the collective any more aptly. Over the past five decades, the band and its various incarnations (the only founding members still active are Roscoe Mitchell and drummer Famodou Don Moye) have dominated the underground and the worlds of jazz to occasionally surface on the mainstream. But from the perspective of black humanism, it’s even more powerful. Earlier in the song, Ayewa declares, “We are on the edge of victory…After all that dope and dancing and drunkenness, we are on the edge.” She shares a litany of black oppression, turning “We are on the edge of existing” into a statement of disappearance rather than emergence. In the context of today’s America, it makes the journey to keep on existing and thriving even more radical, the context that makes We Are On The Edge an absolutely essential listen. Consisting of one disc of re-recorded and never-recorded works and new compositions, and another of a live set recorded at Ann Arbor’s Edgefest, it shows Mitchell’s composition chops and the band’s instrumental dynamism as results of black excellence.

Read our preview of the Art Ensemble of Chicago’s Jay Pritzker Pavilion show last year here.

25. Laura Stevenson - The Big Freeze (Don Giovanni)

The Big Freeze, the new album from singer-songwriter Laura Stevenson, combines the size, emotions, and power of her more rambunctious releases like Wheel and Cocksure with a newfound sense of sparseness, directness, and intimacy. She weaves personal experiences–of self-doubt, depression, and dermatillomania–with universal internal struggles, like the yearning for simplicity in an increasingly complex world. Recorded in her childhood home in Long Island during winter, with bits of strings and bass added later, The Big Freeze isn’t just the first Stevenson album to not feature her backing band The Cans, but the first album that feels like a solo statement.

Read our interview with Laura Stevenson here.

24. Sunn O))) - Life Metal (Southern Lord)

Their first of two albums last year, Life Metal was written with frequent collaborator Tos Nieuwenhuizen on Moog and eventually recorded with none other than Steve Albini at Electrical Audio here in Chicago. It was also the first Sunn O))) album recorded entirely to tape; the extra bit of hiss on the guitar tones adds a greater aspect of the physical realm than ever before. The warm hues of Samantha Keely Smith’s paintings that grace the cover art are akin to the timbre of the music. Slabs of synthesizer light rise to the surface between drone metal power chords on opener “Between Sleipnir’s Breaths”, as recordings of whinnying horses and layered vocals from Hildur Guðnadóttir provide a soft antidote to her ruminations on the impermanence of life. On “Troubled Air”, Anthony Pateras arranged and recorded pipe organ that provides a flat levity to contrast the pointed high tones of the guitars and childlike wonder of the triangle percussion. “Aurora” segues from the dark tones of “Troubled Air” but juxtaposes with it high-pitched, heavenly sounds reminiscent of the human voice, ultimately challenging you to find hope even in the squeakiest of guitar feedback squalls; like the live set, it eventually gives way to silence.

Read our review of Sunn O)))’s Rockefeller Memorial Chapel set last year here.

23. Joshua Abrams & Natural Information Society - Mandatory Reality (eremite records)

Even more so than Simultonality, Mandatory Reality, the latest record from guimbri maestro Joshua Abrams and his band Natural Information Society, doesn’t so much demand your attention as it naturally captures it. Recorded live to tape, it’s an exquisite piece of music that achieves canonical status through its references, yes, but more importantly, warmth through its depth. The track lengths–23, 39, 12, and even 6 minutes–allow the songs to journey, to build up and decompose, to establish and break a vernacular.

Read our review of Joshua Abrams & Natural Information Society’s Constellation show last year here.

22. Rhiannon Giddens & Francesco Turrisi - there is no Other (Nonesuch)

With Italian, Dublin-based multi-instrumentalist Francesco Turrisi, it appears that Rhiannon Giddens has met her match. The two are not only incredible arrangers, writers, and players in their own right, but their approach to music is nobly investigative.

Read our review of Rhiannon Giddens & Francesco Turrisi’s City Winery show last year here.

21. Big Thief - U.F.O.F. (4AD)

People, animals, bugs, hospitals, tenderness, intimacy–they’re all going to show up in a Big Thief album, and U.F.O.F. is no exception. At the same time, Adrianne Lenker and company are still redefining what “Big Thief album” means, and on their third (and 4AD debut), they up the expanse. If Capacity relied totally on Lenker’s world weary voice and nurturing-despite-desolate imagery, U.F.O.F. introduces into the studio fold that which makes Big Thief so arresting as a live band, namely the depth and versatility of Lenker’s voice and the band’s raw, yet celestial instrumentation. Only a singer like Lenker–and maybe Emmylou Harris–could be so affecting staying at basically one note for minutes, as she does on “Cattails”, and on the flip side, adopt an effective lower register on “Betsy”.

Read the rest of our review here.

20. JPEGMAFIA - All My Heroes Are Cornballs (EQT)

Barrington DeVaughn Hendricks is still getting used to verified life, but he’s not retreating. On his third studio album All My Heroes Are Cornballs, a highly anticipated follow-up to 2018 breakout Veteran, rapper JPEGMAFIA doubles down on what made him stand out: darkly humorous and direct socially aware lyrics, products of an intimate knowledge of both alpha and beta toxic masculinity, combined with production that switches on a dime between aggressive and dreamy.

Read our preview of JPEGMAFIA’s Bottom Lounge show from last year here.

19. Baroness - Gold & Grey (Abraxan Hymns)

Gold & Grey is filled with “first”s and “most”s. It’s Baroness’ first album with new guitarist Gina Gleason. It’s their most experimental, versatile, and improvisational record to date. It’s their most band-centric record. Such are details usually delivered in the press release for a hard rock band, ones that don’t change your conception of the littering noise of the record, but here, they ring true.

Read our preview of Baroness’ Durty Nellie’s show last year here.

18. Tyler, the Creator - IGOR (Columbia)

Flower Boy was not a fluke: Gone is the deep-voiced, fired-up Tyler, the Creator that was obsessed with shock, sex, violence, and The Neptunes. His new album IGOR, which chronicles the arc of a failed relationship–falling in love, getting obsessed, breaking up, falling out of love, trying to save a friendship–shows Tyler’s humanity through emotion, mirrored by the complexity of his beats and timbres. The album opens with a dark, blaring bass note before a marching drum beat enters. “They gon’ feel this one,” sings guest Lil Uzi Vert, and later Tyler and Solange (!), too. Lesser rappers and artists would make that line an ad lib. Tyler centers the entire record around it.

Read our preview of Tyler, the Creator’s Credit Union 1 Arena show here.

17. Angel Olsen - All Mirrors (Jagjaguwar)

The history of All Mirrors, Angel Olsen’s fourth studio album, already has a certain lore to it. Like Phil Elverum and many others before her, she went to record a raw, stripped-down album, in the small town of Anacortes, Washington, reflecting on many past platonic and romantic relationships. Afterwards, she recorded a lush, string-arranged version with producer John Congleton, arranger Jherek Bischoff, multi-instrumentalist Ben Babbitt, and a 14-piece orchestra, intending to release both versions of the album. Whether the first will ever see the light of day may remain a legendary “what if,” but the point is that Olsen decided the right way to hear these songs was loud and clear.

Read our preview of Angel Olsen’s Riviera show last year here.

16. Pile - Green and Gray (Exploding in Sound)

Pile is a band who has simply mastered dynamics in songwriting. Vocalist and guitarist Rick Maguire is known for balancing snarling howls with a controlled crooning that breathes life into their songs. Through powerful shifts from quiet builds to triumphant, distorted climaxes, Pile has lost no steam on Green and Gray. It’s not without its straightforward rippers, however—“The Soft Hands of Stephen Miller” is jagged and pointed, and obviously politically charged. Balancing these songs with moments of great calm, Green and Gray shows that Pile is still riding a powerful momentum from their DIY roots. -DP

15. PUP - Morbid Stuff (Rise)

Don’t let the production sheen fool you: Morbid Stuff is, like its title suggests, easily PUP’s darkest record. Throughout, lead singer Stefon Babcock shares tales of urban depression and anxiety, substance abuse, and self-hatred. For the most part, he does so, thankfully, with self-awareness and humor. “Your songs are getting way too literal / How ‘bout some subtlety for a change?” he jokes on nihilistic love song “Kids”. He then knowingly breaks his own rule to chide other pop punk bands for their self-centered attitudes. “Just because you’re sad again / It doesn’t make you special at all,” he sings on “Free At Last”, simultaneously decrying me-against-the-world attitudes while normalizing and de-stigmatizing depression. Sure, there are some truly bleak moments here, as on slow-to-fast drunken singalong “Scorpion Hill”, which ends with a significant other finding a depressed person’s gun, or the pummeling metal-adjacent burner “Full Blown Meltdown”, the most uncomfortably cynical confessional this side of “The Battle of Hampton Roads”. Yet, you relate to Babcock. On “See You At Your Funeral”, with a chorus to back him up, he screams to an ex, “You better hope / You’ll find someone, and you’ll try, but you won’t.” It’s the bad place we’ve all been to, knowing we’re better than that but not acting like it because of the state we’re in. Side-by-side with slow-burning closer “City”, when Babcock sings, “I’m weighed down in this city / Don’t want to love you anymore,” it makes you all the more weary. Morbid stuff, indeed. - Jordan Mainzer

14. Sharon Van Etten - Remind Me Tomorrow (Jagjaguwar)

Produced by extraordinaire John Congleton, Van Etten’s ditching of guitars for synthesizer is wholly natural, and more impressively, original, taking influence from reference points without wearing them on its sleeve. Moreover, the idea that Van Etten needed stark acoustic balladry or traditional rock instrumentation to help convey her emotions is, in hindsight, ridiculous. On Remind Me Tomorrow, no matter the instrumentation, she slays, showing her power as a singer and a lyricist from the record’s very opening.

Read the rest of our review here.

13. oso oso - basking in the glow (Triple Crown)

Like the best songwriters that toe the line between emo and indie rock, Jade Lilitri writes anthems for the downtrodden that embrace genuineness while avoiding cloying earnestness. His new album as Oso Oso, Basking in the Glow, has everything from lo-fi bedroom pop to stadium-size singalongs, all bound together by Lilitri’s ambition. “Always coming up short ‘cause you’re dreaming so small,” he pointedly sings on “Intro” over a jaunty acoustic guitar line. Dreaming–and performing–big is what he does for most of the rest of the record. Rocker “The View” is one of many instant classics, this one about being in love with someone apathetic while managing to avoid apathy about yourself. “Well I’ll grow, we’ll see / If there’s something good in me,” he plans, eyes toward the future.

Read our preview of oso oso’s Beat Kitchen show last year here.

12. Duster - Duster (Mudgutts)

The strange legacy of Duster is a shining example of the power of both cult fandom and the use of internet forums for preserving and re-birthing history. A band that was unique in timbre and in mood, its origins are in cozy, wobbly tape recordings and fuzzed out bliss. Through two excellent records in the late 90′s to early 2000′s, they carved out a special sonic lane for themselves and then apparently drifted into obscurity, but their method of affecting a sort of space-gazing wonderment with the methodical drift of slowcore gained them an ever adoring and growing online listenership. Through boards and forums like 4chan’s /mu/, many people who never could have grown up with them grew a sense of connection and rabid curiosity, painstakingly curating their most forgotten demos and recordings. Several years later, their reunion was a cause for unparalleled excitement for fans. The idea of seeing Duster live was almost daunting. Their live performance, and more notably, Duster, give a sense that this band was able to pick right back up where they left, however, wandering through a tangled haze of oddly tuned guitars and warm crackle just as they did before. “Copernicus Crater” is built on a foundation of a riff that feels so inherent to Duster, as though its simple repetition and haplessness could not have spawned from any other band. The entire record stumbles through these kinds of moments of enigmatic joy, like seeing an old friend, skewed by warbly fog. - DP

11. Vagabon - Vagabon (Nonesuch)

On the road after touring her excellent debut Infinite Worlds, all she had was a computer and Logic, and she took the opportunity to hone her songwriting and production, doing both entirely on the new record. What results is a far cry from the devastating indie rock of her debut. “Full Moon In Gemini” sports dancey, thumping percussion, “Water Me Down” sparkly arpeggios and a minimal techno beat. On “Please Don’t Leave The Table”, she combines cascading, washing cymbals with syncopated hi hats and brassy bass. “I’m still eating,” she says to someone on that song, completing the title command, demanding respect.

Read our preview of Vagabon’s Riviera set from last year here.

10. black midi - Schlagenheim (Rough Trade)

Another band who met at BRIT school who learned to play guitar from Franz Ferdinand? Yeah, but Black Midi transcend even the hype they deserve. The very fact that hours of jamming contributed to a few bars of songs on their instant classic debut album Schlagenheim is already legendary, and the band covers territory from noise punk to jazz to surf rock to Slint-esque post-rock to chaotically played and sung math rock and…I’m out of breath. “We won’t build to this code,” Geordie Greep sang on “Speedway”, a standout from Schlagenheim, the band’s statement of purpose denoting that they’re truly trying to do something new with all of the above.

Read our review of black midi’s Pitchfork Music Festival 2019 set here.

9. Octo Octa - Resonant Body (T4T LUV NRG)

Maya Bouldry-Morrison, better known as Octo Octa, has always encouraged a sense of love and community through her music and DJ sets. Her vision of the dance floor is unique and veers into the realm of spiritual—community building and self-love are key to her work, and Resonant Body approaches her concept of bodily connection and actualization through a more focused exploration of nature. Having recorded all of its contents in a cabin in New Hampshire, Resonant Body’s sound world still explores a familiar blend of house, rave, and techno, but there is an easily felt kind of spirituality and self-relinquishing that peeks through. Tracks like “Spin Girl, Let’s Activate!” build on foundations one may come to expect out of a big house track, but its progression is anything but mechanical, and its uplifting power is infectious and undeniable. Combined with subtler, more reflective ambient moments, such as “My Body is Powerful,” Octo Octa’s mission purpose of empowerment and healing is injected with a palpable potency. -DP

8. Sudan Archives - Athena (Stones Throw)

On her debut album Athena, violinist/singer Brittney Denise Parks--better known as Sudan Archives--directly explores and conveys her sexuality. Adapting church hymns and delivering classical music-inspired interludes, among honest songs of love and relationships, she manipulates the violin to convey all-encompassing emotions and physicality. “I realize I lost my mind,” she sings on opener “Did You Know?” next to staccato plucks. “Confessions”, on the contrary, features lush, weeping lines over a panning click beat. And violin textures provide even percussion on the resonant “House of Open Tuning II”. The best songs, though, are confrontational. “Do you wanna go play outside? Do you wanna go down?” Parks poses to a lover on “Green Eyes", a song that begins stark with a low-mixed flange effect but eventually juxtaposes synth and violins for maximum depth. And on the finger-snapping “Limitless”, towards the end of the album, she addresses someone changed for the worse by an unhealthy relationship. “What happened to your dreams? All you care about is things,” she asks, the alternate to this materialism the spirited love and lust she’s presented throughout Athena. - JM

7. Charly Bliss - Young Enough (Barsuk)

A Charly Bliss song is often an alchemic mix of danceable, driving guitar supporting lyrics that land like a sucker punch if you listen closely. Young Enough, the band’s second album, both taps into what they do so well and expands upon it, adding slicker synths and a poppier edge. “Blown to Bits” begins with droning, warm synth. “Chatroom” revels in a pop sound and bursts with the triumph of coming out of trauma stronger. If you managed to see one of Charly Bliss' tour dates for this album, you won't be surprised to see that the band's typical infectious energy is completely intact, a fury of guitars and flouncing skirts and white Doc Martens. But you may have noticed the shift in tone at "Hurt Me". The lights go soft, and Eva Hendricks' boundless energy becomes laser-focused. The show seems to shift, the lyrics repeated like an incantation: “Eyes like a funeral, mouth like a bruise / Veins like a hallway, voice like a wound.” It’s new territory for the band, showcasing Hendricks’ lyrical prowess in a different light. - LL

6. Purple Mountains - Purple Mountains (Drag City)

It is too easy when listening to the beautiful run of Purple Mountains to read its touching words as a farewell, but this betrays not only a deeper poetry, but a genuine effort on David Berman’s to come to peace with the world and his own demons. Though he struggled with what he referred to as “treatment-resistant depression,” his return to recorded music and his bravery in expanding his body of sonic work is an undeniable triumph. Having had the privilege of visiting a gallery in his tribute at Drag City--his long-time label and part-time home--it is clear the affect his humble kindness had on people. It seems those who knew him hang on to his every word, mannerism, and quirk. Even in his bleakest lyrics, Berman affects a sense of humor and wit that his fans have obsessed over for decades. His knack for Americana kitsch and ephemera, the way he speaks on the strangeness of consumption (“Margaritas at the Mall,” most notably, and in his declarative utterance of “The end of all wanting is all that I am wanting”), and his portrayal of isolation are just a few of the methods that make his songwriting so harrowing and instantly effective. Backed by members of Woods, the music behind his words hits harder than ever, without ever abandoning a kind of simplicity and directness he is known for. Purple Mountains is challenging in ways other records simply aren’t, exuding warmth and fear all at once, but never telling the listener how they are supposed to feel. Berman’s prose on his relationships with those in his life are made so tangible and relatable but are always treated with the complexity and reverence they deserve, and his legacy will touch listeners for a long time. - DP

5. Jamila Woods - LEGACY! LEGACY! (Jagjaguwar)

Yes, Jamila Woods’ stunning LEGACY! LEGACY! is a tribute to important artists of color. What makes it stand out among other tributes, however, is the remarkable way Woods is able to present how each figure has guided her. Take opener “BETTY”, about funk artist Betty Davis, a woman married to a far more famous jazz trumpeter who gets his own song later on. Woods explores the gender and power dynamic in the relationship and uses it to make a personal and universal plea: “Let me be, I’m trying to fly.” Fly, she does. On “ZORA”, over a hip hop beat, Woods succinctly declares in an all-time line, “My weaponry is my energy”, the drive and desire the catalyst in the noble goal to make her mark on the world as a black woman as opposed to while being a black woman. In various interviews surrounding the album release, Woods spoke about being inspired by black artists who perform and make art truly for themselves independent and often in spite of the race of the end consumers. “Motherfuckers won’t shut up,” beings “MUDDY”, referencing Muddy Waters adoption of electric guitar because white audiences would talk over his sets; “Shut up, motherfucker,” she sings inversely on “MILES”, “I don’t take requests.” But the percussive, jazzy “EARTHA” best encapsulates her aims of self-love and ultimate pride. “I used to be afraid of myself,” Woods admits before stating, “I don’t wanna compromise.” Ultimately, the refrain of, “Who’s gonna share my love for me with me?” is the mindset by which Woods approaches relationships throughout the record and then life itself. You can be a part of it, but she comes first. - JM

4. Mannequin Pussy - Patience (Epitaph)

On Patience, Mannequin Pussy’s hugest-sounding and best album yet, lead singer Marisa Dabice makes it obvious what she’s singing about, which works to the band’s advantage. Yet, the songs themselves and the feelings they describe, let alone exude, are complex. Produced by emo heavyweight Will Yip, the album features swirling, fuzzed out, guitars on top of meaty drum beats, and layered ascending vocals alternating with desperate, raw screams, a perfect concoction of sounds to mirror Dabice’s emotional turmoil.

Read our preview of Mannequin Pussy’s Lincoln Hall show last year here.

3. Black Belt Eagle Scout - At The Party With My Brown Friends (Saddle Creek)

You might expect an album called At The Party With My Brown Friends to have overt political references. For many people of color--especially queer and indigenous folks like Katherine Paul--existing in the party called life is an inherent political statement. The gorgeous record finds Paul finding solidarity with others; “We will always sing,” she declares on the opening track. So even when she’s simply singing about her own forlorn heart, confusing dreams, or going to the beach with a friend and making music, she’s doing so in a space traditionally dominated by straight white men. That’s not unique to Paul (neither is her excellent guitar playing stile, from slow scrapes and atonal riffing to reverb-soaked, dreamy licks, which I’d be remiss to leave out here), which is where “friends” comes in. At The Party With My Brown Friends is a record also for those friends, for anyone for whom society has forbidden self-expression. On emotional centerpiece “I Said I Wouldn’t Write This Song”, Paul sings, “Nothing ever comes when you want it to.” Of course, such a statement is exaggerated and absolute, and Paul knows that. The very song title sees her avoiding self-pity. But what’s important to Paul is being honest with herself in the moment; it empowers her and others. - JM

2. (Sandy) Alex G - House of Sugar (Domino)

Through a dazzling string of records—whose production methods have evolved from charming bedroom quality to ostensibly effortless polish—(Sandy) Alex G has come full circle with respect to his command over chaos. He has always dabbled effectively in auxiliary sounds, glitches, and vocal manipulation, but on House of Sugar, there is never a moment where any experimentation or stylistic left turns feel jarring or forced. That isn’t to say that this record is any kind of straightforward affair, but (Sandy) Alex G’s careful honing of his songwriting and curation craft has reigned all of the manic threads he is known for into a cohesive whole better than ever before. Single “Gretel” is emblematic of this mastery, toying with his signature granular pitched-up vocals, bending synths, cryptic lyrics, and above all else, stunningly affecting songwriting. Splicing the cryptic in with the readily apparent—“Hope,” for example, is hauntingly and unabashedly about a friend who died of overdose—(Sandy) Alex G’s vision for a narrative world that constantly flirts with reality and fiction is more actualized than ever before. - DP

1. FKA twigs - MAGDALENE (Young Turks)

I can’t think of an album that encapsulates not only last year but the last decade more than FKA twigs’ MAGDALENE. That it’s a stunning achievement in composition would be enough to top most year-end lists alone. But that it manages to combine and ultimately rise above the aesthetic and thematic trends in pop music of the last 10 years is what makes it an all-time great. Tahliah Barnett presents a journey of contemporary genres--ambient R&B, maximal noise, and even trap--in a story of the internal mind behind the external success. If many of the decade’s prominent hip hop artists, from behemoths like Drake to the emo stylings of Soundcloud masters, treated their songs like real-time diary entries, twigs explores the spacious, non-linear, borderline circular trauma of a broken heart.

The combination of Barnett’s voice and delivery, whether an instrumental coo or ASMR-like crispness, and production style is able to weave her narrative. “If I walk out the door, it starts our last goodbye,” she sings on choral, a capella opener “thousand eyes”, eventually giving way to foreboding, echoing percussion. With co-production from Nicolas Jaar, the song snowballs into a cacophony of bass and twigs’ skipping falsetto, a disconcerting introduction to a doomed relationship. The internal strife that twigs alludes to throughout MAGDALENE is “internal” in more ways than one: In addition to her relationship with Robert Pattinson falling apart (not to mention the very public racism directed towards Twigs from some Twilight fans), she also had fibroid tumors which had to be surgically removed. The record represents her emotional processing of these multiple pains. On “holy terrain”, which features production from Skrillex and Jack Antonoff and a verse from Future, she sings, “Will you still be there for me, once I'm yours to obtain? / Once my fruits are for taking and you flow through my veins? / Do you still think I'm beautiful, when my tears fall like rain?” This devotion as much a requirement for future lovers as it is an in-the-moment plea to her current one. The showstopping “mirrored heart” beautifully captures the inevitable fate of last-ditch efforts. Barnett’s gentle coo is offset by clanging production from Koreless. “For the lovers who found a mirrored heart / They just remind me I’m without you,” she sings. And the Oneohtrix Point Never-assisted “daybed” is a stunning description of depression, wherein things aren’t like they naturally are, twigs’ only friends the fruit flies buzzing around her pile of dirty dishes.

It all leads to closer “cellophane”, the first single and music video released way back in April before MAGDALENE was even announced. The video shows twigs’ pole dancing, which she learned for the video; the song sports a piano rhythm over a quiet, beat-boxed beat. She keeps the words abstract: “And didn’t I do it for you? / Why don’t I do it for you? / Why won’t you do it for me / When all I do is for you?” The song is the best of the year and a timeless heart-breaker, one that again bends time: In singing about how he’s not doing it for her, she’s doing it for her. - JM

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chelseawolfemusic · 7 years

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Chelsea Wolfe Talks Hiss Spun // MusicRadar

The word ‘artist’ is used with witless abandon in music, but with Californian songwriter Chelsea Wolfe it feels wholly appropriate.

An originator and creator, over five albums she has constructed an intricate, dark body of work, one capable of crossing vast spaces, from gothic folk to black metal, while still feeling part of the same awe-inspiring aesthetic.

2015’s Abyss saw the Sargent House-signed songwriter develop a cavernous dynamic presence through gigantic, dystopian riffs, all contrasted with a tortured Cocteau Twins vocal. Now she has returned with Hiss Spun – a record that bathes in the bleakness of the current global outlook and delves ever deeper into musical extremes.

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Produced by Kurt Ballou and featuring Queens Of The Stone Age’s Troy Van Leeuwen, it’s her heaviest album to date and something of a black mirror record – one that points aggressively at our ugliest tendencies and states: ‘what hath man wrought?’ or in 21st century terms: ‘look at this gigantic shit storm’.

We spoke to Chelsea about Hiss Spun, what it was like working with Troy Van Leeuwen and Kurt Ballou and the primordial origins of white noise…

This album was produced by Kurt Ballou at his GodCity studio in Salem, Massachusetts during the winter months. It really feels like you can hear that snow-quieted landscape on the likes of Vex or Two Spirit. How did that surrounding impact you and, by extension, the record?

The sense of the cold, quiet outside contrasted with the hissing radiators of the warm interiors is reflected on the record

“Yes, I think the sense of the cold, quiet outside contrasted with the hissing radiators of the warm interiors is reflected on the record. One of the reasons I wanted to record in Salem is because I fell in love with Kurt’s studio last year when I was there working on Converge Blood Moon.

“Sometimes a building has no effect on the recordings, but sometimes it becomes a character in it. I’d say the GodCity building played a big role in this record. The building has three levels: the basement dungeon where much of the drums were recorded, the middle studio area where all the guitars were recorded, and then the upstairs apartment and vocal room. So I thought of it almost like hell, limbo and heaven... Each level had its own personality.”

What are Kurt’s greatest strengths as a producer? What does he bring to a record or a session?

I knew Kurt Ballou would get the kind of metallic, almost engine-like tones I wanted for the bass and guitars

“I wanted to work with him because this record is very drum-focused, and I’ve been a fan of how he records drums for years. Also I knew he’d get the kind of metallic, almost engine-like tones I wanted for the bass and guitars.

“When it came to vocals, it was on me to conjure up what I wanted to, but I had already planned for that because I come into the studio really prepared and almost utilitarian-like: ready to work and push myself as far as I can.”

When we last spoke, you described the tensions - borne from two strong-willed creative characters - you had with John Congleton as being “immediate” but ultimately very positive on Abyss. What sources of tension were there on Hiss Spun? Was it required this time?

“This time is was more of an internal struggle... A lot of these songs are about my own memories, self-destruction, addiction and ill-health so I had to face that and try to become stronger than the songs I was writing; stronger than the memories.”

Troy Van Leeuwen joins you throughout Hiss Spun. Why did that stick? What made that playing/writing relationship such a successful one?

“I knew Troy would get the kind of weird, twisted emotions these songs needed and he did. He’s a great guy and one of my favourite guitar players.

“The main lead lines on Spun are Troy, and the leads on the choruses for 16 Psyche. I also left space for him on that song to do an aching lead part over the bridge. While he was playing I could feel my guts wrenching and it was perfect, so I asked him to keep going in that direction.

“He’s on a few others songs playing lead like Offering. Bryan [Tulao, guitarist] played lead on The Culling and Static Hum, both of which are my guitar songs, along with 16 Psyche. Ben [Chisholm] actually wrote a lot of the guitar for this album as well, like the main part for Spun, Vex, Particle Flux and Twin Fawn.”

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In an interview with No Clean Singing you talk about finding “the right guitar and the right pedals and microphone” before writing. How early in your writing process do you consider tone? Why?

“When I’m initially writing and making demos I’m just going on instincts, but then once we’re in the studio I’ll hone it in and try to think about what’s right for the song - something deep or something more tinny and lo-fi.

“Kurt helped guide me on this journey, finding the right amps and pedals. I ended up just using this EarthQuaker [power amp distortion] pedal called Acapulco Gold, though; it weirdly fit on a lot of songs.”

What were your main guitars and amplifiers on the recordings? And how did you use them to get such sizeable distortion sounds?

The really big distortion tones on the likes of Twin Fawn came about because there are about six layers of guitars on those choruses

“There was an old Gibson amp I think Kurt uses on a lot of recordings that I used a lot... it just has that great vintage tone, but I was also drawn to his Klipp and used that a lot. The Gibson is an older one for sure. Basically Kurt set up a wall of amps and we just went through and tried them all until I was drawn to the sound of one. It ended up being those two!

“In general I don’t always know the technical details of all the gear I choose, I just collect guitars, amps and pedals that I like instinctually. I knew I wanted the guitar tones to sound really metallic on this album, almost like a motorcycle engine, so I was seeking that out on the amp journey.

“For guitars, I used a Fender Jazzmaster with a Randy Rhoads Dean neck, my Gibson 335s, and a borrowed classical. The really big distortion tones on the likes of Twin Fawn came about because there are about six layers of guitars on those choruses…”

A Fender Jazzmaster with a Dean neck is quite an unusual beast. What drew you to that instrument?

“That’s one of Kurt’s guitars - I don’t actually know the story behind it, but I saw it sitting amongst other guitars and was drawn to it. The neck instantly felt good in my hands and then Kurt told me it was the Randy Rhoads edition. I’m such a fan and had Crazy Train on repeat the year before, so it felt meant to be. Plugged into the Earthquaker Acapulco it was a great sound so I ended up using that combo a lot.”

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What do you consider to be the most successful guitar moment on the album?

“16 Psyche was a riff I had kicking around for a year or so, and when I finally brought it to the band I wasn’t sure if anything would come of it, but right away we all had tons of ideas and it came together really quickly.

“Another moment is Ben’s guitar playing on Twin Fawn. He also played through that Klipp and layered the choruses maybe six times - I love the little feedback moments on the pauses, and the way the guitars and drums come together at the end of that song is one of my favourite parts of the album.”

Your press sheet interlinks one of the album’s central themes - global destruction - with the white noise that occurs throughout the album. Why do you think this sound is suited to the topic? What association does it hold for you?

I’ve had a strong affinity for white noise since I was a kid

“Carl Sagan said that 1% of TV and radio static is relic sound from the Big Bang. I think something about that connection to the origin is comforting, and I’ve had a strong affinity for white noise since I was a kid. I was talking more about confronting the chaos of the world with your own internal chaos - accepting the mess of yourself and finding strength through that.”

You’ve said that you want to write escapist music. We get that sensation with the likes of 16 Psyche. Where does the escapism come for you?

“I find a lot of freedom in music. I have my writing studio at home, so I can be in a place where I feel fully myself, and I can work and write at any hour of the day.

“Onstage, it’s taken me years to become comfortable, but my way of dealing is just to lose myself into the songs. Last year, while I was relocating back to Northern California, I was staying with family while I was in-between houses. I didn’t have a lot of personal space, so I ended up writing a lot in headphones, and was reminded of that sense of escapism in music, where you can totally tune out your surroundings and slip into a new world.”

“It seems like the world has been in tears for months, and then you remember it’s been fucked for a long time, it’s been fucked since the beginning. It’s overwhelming and I have to write about it.” In the face of this, do you think escapism is enough?

“No, of course not. I was being honest in saying that that’s sometimes how I deal, but I also strive to put a lot of reality about the world into my songs, and tell stories of people to honour them.

“Particle Flux, for example, has some lines in the choruses that were inspired by watching a short documentary about the refugee crisis coming out of Syria - seeing how these families were torn from their homes and sometimes torn apart, but still remaining so strong: mothers and fathers still trying to make their children smile and pushing on against the terrible situation they’re facing.

“I have a B-side coming out later this year which I’ll be donating the proceeds of to the UNHCR (UN Refugee Agency). There are so many refugee situations right now and they’re struggling to keep up funding for all of them.”

You have traditionally been portrayed as a shy character, but this album feels more overt. Do you feel you are gaining confidence in your abilities as a writer and performer?

“Getting older as a woman and as an artist, I’m becoming more confident, or maybe just giving less of a fuck what people think. [Ultimately] it was fun to write some songs that were more in-your-face and aggressive.”

#Sargent House #Chelsea Wolfe #Hiss Spun #Music Radar

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junker-town · 5 years

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Couldn’t Be Me: Am I too old to make friends?

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In this week’s advice column: How to make friends even after you’ve given up on making friends.

Welcome to Couldn’t Be Me, a weekly advice column where I solicit your personal dilemmas and help out as best as I can. Have something I can help you with? Find me @_Zeets.

Friendship, great or small, is a wonderful thing; to have people or a person who one feels comfortable and safe with, another soul that one feels obligated to in this short journey of life. Someone to share ourselves with, often just as lovingly as in a romantic sense, though they demand different things from us. There is no natural law that says that a friend cannot be your soulmate.

Because friendship is such a wonderful thing, not having friends, or being unable to make friends, can be a torturous experience. In “Frankenstein”, the creature referenced his lack of friends as he decried the loneliness of his existence:

”The fallen angel becomes the malignant devil. Yet even the enemy of God and man had friends and associates in his desolation; I am alone.”

This week, we deal with the difficulty of making friends and how to remain open to others, even as one struggles to find someone with whom to share their lives.

Shaddai:

I’m in my junior year of college and I don’t really have any friends on campus, just acquaintances that don’t seem interested beyond superficial academic conversations and who blow me off when I try to talk to them outside of that. My lack of friends here makes going to any party a daunting task, despite that I’ve attended two by myself and have mixed feelings towards doing it again. How do I make sure not to waste the fantastic networking opportunity that is college before I graduate?

CBM:

My little brother had a similar problem when he was in college. For some reason, he couldn’t make friends, as much as he tried. My advice to him, and to you here, is to find a club. It doesn’t even have to be a club for an activity that you’re good at already. It can be something that you’re interested in learning. For him, it was archery. It could be a writing group, an activist group, or gathering with a bunch of theater kids. (I’m personally less of a fan of fraternities and sororities, because people seem to use those organizations as substitutes for building their own individual, stable identities, and the cultures around them can be toxic.) Joining a club or group gives you a place with a reliable variety of people who you will routinely see and learn with, and gaining that familiarity in a fun environment is conducive to developing friendships.

Once you develop that core, you’ll have an easier time networking with others and branching out, because you won’t feel desperation to make each connection a deeper friendship. My little brother made a few friends in archery. He also found people who like wrestling and has kept in contact with them even after graduation. I hope you find your tribe as well.

Alice:

Background: I’m 38, been divorced for like a year, and way more comfortable with being alone than I was before. Used to barely be able to leave the house, but now I travel, go to events, etc., on my own.

This process of self-discovery has been interesting, but I find myself struggling with making friends — a lifelong struggle. I have this intense fear that people think I’m, well, fucking lame as shit. I let down my guard and started to get close — as a friend — to someone last year, and then she ghosted me. Others give me nonstop bullshit for my interests (dare I bring up soccer in front of some people and then I get an earful). I’ve gotten to the point where I don’t really invite people anywhere, and if someone happens to be there, great.

While I’m better at being alone, as I said, my confidence is still pretty destroyed. I am too afraid to talk to people about my interests (or work — don’t even get me started on how my lack of confidence is destroying my career) for fear that they will totally reject me. Everyone else has, so why not them? It’s only a matter of time. So, I guess my question is three fold. Should I just accept being alone and cut everyone out of my life? Or should I work on my confidence in some other way? And how do old folks with no experience make friends?

CBM:

It’s much more difficult to make friends the older one gets, which I think comes down to many people having already established their friend groups. It’s also takes more effort to put yourself among a large number of people. As a result, there’s a loneliness and shame in being the only person who is not with someone else when you’re out by yourself, and you may feel anxiety in trying to reach out to others in that situation.

Still, fear is not the way to go. A life of fear isn’t a life at all, and the loneliness won’t stop just because you close yourself off. It will only intensify, and that self-blame could evolve into self-loathing. You should take steps to improve your confidence and keep yourself open. As Anna Kamienska wrote in her notebooks about the act of destruction that is shutting yourself away:

“Everything else is closed, impenetrable. You can’t penetrate rain, hail, wind, wood, stone, storm. All things are sealed tight as a coffin lid. Only man is open, open like a great home in which all things, phenomena, events may take up residence, become his body.”

People will ghost you, won’t reciprocate your efforts, and will even abuse your friendship. You can never be sure of another person’s intentions or love towards you. But rather than internalize their behavior as an indictment of yourself, it’s better to accept that hurt is natural in human relationships. The most you can do is put yourself out there and hope you find the right people who are as loyal and open as you are, and address any problems you may have if there is something you are doing to push people away.

Furthermore, I think you actually have a great way to make friends: Soccer. Rather than be fearful of bringing up soccer to people who may not like it, you could go find bars and or other gathering places where people watch games. Fans at bars are usually more open to conversation and friendships because of that foundation of a shared team or sport. The emotional openness that sports demand makes things easier, too.

My general advice is take the things that you’re interested in, find a place where people who share that hobby gather, and take the step of being vulnerable by going there.

Dre:

I’m going through heartbreak myself! Help me find the light to this shit!

CBM:

Not sure if this will bring you as much comfort to you as it does for me. It doesn’t give motivation after heartbreak, but it does capture the feeling of lost love. But like listening to sad songs to get through sad times, I always liked Edna St. Vincent Millay’s Ashes of Life:

Love has gone and left me and the days are all alike;

Eat I must, and sleep I will, — and would that night were here!

But ah! — to lie awake and hear the slow hours strike!

Would that it were day again! — with twilight near!

Love has gone and left me and I don’t know what to do;

This or that or what you will is all the same to me;

But all the things that I begin I leave before I’m through, —

There’s little use in anything as far as I can see.

Love has gone and left me, — and the neighbors knock and borrow,

And life goes on forever like the gnawing of a mouse, —

And to-morrow and to-morrow and to-morrow and to-morrow

There’s this little street and this little house.

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fuckyeahyesband-inactive · 7 years

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Yestival, August 29th, 2017; Microsoft Theater, Los Angeles, California

Yestival was announced early this 2017 year; a prog extravaganza of Carl Palmer’s ELP Legacy, Todd Rundgren, and Yes all in one night. Never was there a more even mix of opportune and inopportune time for me, a young prog fan without that much money to her name, than now. Three big names in one show—it must cost a fortune! How was I ever expected to scrounge up enough cash to take Mom and I in a short amount of time? I had no job, and no stable source of income. I would just have to hope and pray…

Tickets went on presale an early April morning. Mom and I had decided on getting tickets, which were priced not quite as much as I was expecting. But hey, I’m not complaining. I had my laptop all set up and loaded for the presale to ensure we would be quick enough to get good seats. But… We were never given a presale code.

Oh, no. We were in trouble. How could we get into the presale? I clearly remember searching online desperately in case I had missed a presale code announcement. I must’ve had almost thirty tabs open at the time, but no—nothing. I was almost in a blind panic by the time Mom suggested we just guess the code. We gave obvious answers like “music,” “Yes,” “festival” and the like, but we were fresh out of luck.

“Try ‘prog,’” Mom says.

“That’s too obvious, isn’t it?”

“Just try it.”

Well, there was no harm in trying at least. P-r-o-g, enter key.

The ticket sale interface booted up. We had managed to guess our way into the presale.

August rolls around in unexpected silence. Amidst the stress and worries of beginning a new semester bubbles the excitement of another show. Yestival is finally here.

The second school day of the semester promised a show with the lineup of a lifetime for someone like me after my classes finished. By the time I left campus that morning, I was filled with a slew of emotions that in just a handful of hours, I was going to be seeing three of my favorite acts in one night. It still hadn’t quite processed with me; I wasn’t ready yet.

Mom and I spent our time getting ready and looking nice, as well as a friend of mine and my twelve-year-old cousin—I introduced her to Yes, you’re welcome—and double checking to make sure we were prepared for the trip down to the venue. Considering traffic, it could be a long drive to Los Angeles.

But this was my big night. I had to make sure I had everything down to the dot. Camera, check. Portable charger, check. Water bottle, check. Ticket, check. Lipstick in case a refresh was needed, check. Vinyl copies of Fragile, Oops! Wrong Planet, and Emerson Lake & Palmer just in case… Check. And of course, two working sharpies—one black and one metallic silver—check.

With only a little sweat and a few tears, the four of us safely made our way down to the city, only with a few small scares, of course. LA drivers can be scary for us small city folk.

But we arrived right on time, and lucky that because of our assigned seating, else we would probably end up being pushed towards the back of the venue. People were being let in just about a half-hour after we arrived. Lines weren’t a problem for us tonight.

Once we were inside the building of the Microsoft Theater, everything seemed to set in for me. The day was here; this was actually happening. After a quick trip to the merchandise stand, I checked my camera for what must’ve been the tenth time just to make sure it was in proper working order, and to figure out exactly which camera setting was the best for where we were sitting towards the middle of orchestra center, and the lighting we were going to be in. Because of venue rules, I couldn’t take my actual professional camera with me, so I was stuck borrowing Dad’s point and shoot. But it’s gotten me some good concert pictures before, so this show might not be so different in that regard.

Within perhaps another half hour, the lights dimmed and my heart skipped a beat. Carl’s group was up first, his amazingly large and precise drum kit already having been set up the moment we walked in those doors. The large television screens beside the wings of the stage lit up, and…

“This is… Jeopardy!”

Wait, what? What was going on? Why would a clip of Jeopardy be on display during Yestival?

“Actor Michael of Lost, silver screen siren Veronica, and Hall of Fame Baltimore pitcher Jim.”

“Emerson Lake and Palmer.”

Then the Cheers theme.

“I’m an attorney. I work for the… Emerson Lake and Palmer law firm.”

The Simpsons.

“A disc?” Cut to Homer in his car. “Oooh, what a lucky man he was.”

ELP references in other pop culture. An interesting and fun way to introduce the band; I’d never seen anything quite like that at a show before.

And of course, the man of the hour walked out on stage with surprisingly young guitarist and bassist whose names escape me—it was Carl Palmer. He looked the same as I’d always seen him; getting up in his years, but visibly takes good care of himself. Carl had always been in good health ever since he was young, and it certainly showed during his performance.

Their set began with a lively performance of none other than one of Keith Emerson’s masterpieces, “Hoedown.” And let me tell you, Carl’s performance has not downgraded a single percentage—he still plays like a fiend at the age of sixty-seven, and his bandmates were great too. He even kept his shirt on through his entire portion of the show. I suppose he stopped doing that years ago.

They rocked each song, though they had a short set of only five or so songs. “Hoedown,” “Karn Evil 9 1st Impression Part 2,” “Lucky Man,” “Knife-Edge,” “Fanfare for the Common Man.” None of them were sung, except one.

Carl began to speak about how one of their most known numbers, “Lucky Man,” came to be. “I said to Greg, ‘when did you write this?’ And he said, ‘when I was about twelve-years-old.’ I said, ‘well, it’s pretty good!’ And we have a surprise for you as well.” The band began to play, but under the dimmed stage lighting, a fourth man walked out. It was Todd. Todd was singing “Lucky Man.” He put on a new twist that fit more of his vocal style than Greg’s, but he still did a lovely job. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was on the verge of tears throughout the entire number.

Carl and his band’s set soon came to an end, though I would’ve loved to hear more. But during the short intermission, a voice over the PA system announced that Carl would be out signing autographs in the lobby for those that have purchased merchandise. I can’t remember ever springing to my feet so fast.

My friend, my cousin, and I all quickly made our way back out to the lobby to wait for Carl to step out and meet us. Being so quick, we luckily beat the majority of the large group of people wanting to meet one of the geniuses behind Emerson Lake and Palmer. Now I was truly glad that I had brought my vinyl with me.

As I approached the table, I felt surprisingly calm in the presence of one of my favorite drummers of all time. He was still sweating from the show, fresh off stage, but he offered me a very warm and friendly smile.

“Hello! How are you?” he asked me as he quickly signed both my vinyl and my ticket—which I’m giving to my best friend long distance.

The meeting was quick since there was a line and people were being ushered along, so I couldn’t talk to him much. But at least I can say that I now have a signed copy of Emerson Lake & Palmer and a gift for a friend from the man himself. He was a sweetheart though we couldn’t stay long.

Now it was time for Todd’s set. I knew full well that most, if not all, of what Todd would be playing would be his newer material including songs from his recently released album, back in May. The wall lights dimmed again but the stage lights turned on. Kasim Sulton, Jesse Gress, Prairie Prince, and keyboardist whose name I also can’t remember walked the stage to their designated spots, followed by Todd’s backup dancers. After a moment, Todd himself joined the group.

Todd’s set was longer, but a good one. It was fresh and new, the majority of it I hadn’t previously heard. What was also a nice plus were the stage lights, which added to the effect of the music itself. His singing is so different now from what it started as, but he’s still a powerful and dynamic singer and musician in general. Famous or infamous for it, Todd is always changing. He and his band brought a real drive to the show with both his presence and his music, but it was certainly different from what Todd fans might be used to, but I don’t hold that against him. Even Kasim got his own bass solo, which I loved.

The band closed with three of his more popular gems both with Utopia and as himself, “One World,” “Hello It’s Me,” and “Just One Victory.” He put almost a new spin on the way he performed these three, but he kept the spirit of the originals at heart, and of course, it was fun to sing some songs I actually knew the lyrics to. For my first ever Todd Rundgren show, I wasn’t disappointed.

But now was time for Yes, the band we were all waiting for. And as a special treat, Dylan Howe, Steve Howe’s son would be joining along for the tour. I myself am a huge fan of percussion, so to know that I was going to be seeing a double drumming experience from my favorite band, it excited me to no end.

The band was introduced not by their usual “Firebird Suite” intro, which is a tradition among older Yes fans and those that have seen them more times than I, but with a different classical song that I didn’t previously know. The overhead screen above them glittered in red and white lights, the cover of their eponymous album released in 1969 outlined in blue. The band walked out and the audience surged with energy that didn’t previously seem quite there with Carl or Todd. The show was now alive.

Jon Davison with his usual smile, Billy Sherwood with a slight strut that almost reminded me of Chris, Steve Howe with his recent beard—and revered presence of course, Geoff Downes with his almost quiet but bold poise, Dylan Howe with fresh-faced excitement, and Alan White with a kind but perhaps just a bit tired expression. The six men took their places onstage, Dylan right beside his father, and the show began.

For their set list, they had picked a song from each of their first ten studio albums. For Yes, “Survival.” For Time and a Word, the song of the same name. For The Yes Album, “Yours is No Disgrace.” For Fragile, “South Side of the Sky.” For Close to the Edge, “And You and I.” For Tales from Topographic Oceans, “Leaves of Green” from “The Ancient.” For Relayer, “Soon,” the ending movement of the album’s epic “The Gates of Delirium.” For Going for the One, the song of the same name. For Tormato, “Don’t Kill the Whale.” And finally, for Drama, “Machine Messiah.” And as everyone loved, the encore was none other than “Roundabout.”

Personally, I’m actually pretty happy with the set list. Some of the songs they played were some of their lesser played songs (from what I know of the two Yes shows I’ve attended), which gave those songs a chance to shine. “Don’t Kill the Whale” even featured an extended intro which highlighted both Dylan and Alan on drums, which added to the song and gave it a fuller sound. It’s not even one of my favorites, but their performance made me warm up to it a bit more.

[Death mention in next paragraph]

Yes sounded much tighter as a band this time seeing them compared to my last time, which was the North American tour in 2015 with Toto. With Chris Squire’s recent passing at the time, Yes was left with less time to rework the band around to fit Billy Sherwood in as a full time member, change the set list around, and shape the general show to honor Chris’s life and his work, so I do not judge them as harshly for that performance. It caused a void within the band when he left us.

[Death mention ends here]

But the show as a whole did nothing but please me. Aside from the sound of the venue seeming a bit off, I was still more than satisfied with what I was given. Jon Davison’s vocals did justice to the originals taking into account that his voice has a different kind of sound—I don’t compare him to Jon Anderson because there could never quite be a “true” replacement for Jon Anderson. Billy’s form on bass shows his tutelage under Chris himself, and he even exudes a personality similar to Chris’s onstage. Like master, like apprentice. Steve’s style never diminishes for me, though he may play things just a little bit differently. Like Todd, Steve has his own changes; he never plays a song the exact same way twice. Geoff did justice to Yes songs originally featuring Rick Wakeman as always, including the song he himself was originally a part of, “Machine Messiah.” Dylan was a great addition to the band in adding some complexities to accompany Alan’s drumming to give it a nice extra layer. Alan only worries me a little; he still plays well, but he just looks a little tired. Maybe a little bit of a longer recovery for him after his back surgery is in order, but he still delivered that night.

But this isn’t where our story ends.

Four hours of prog music obviously left the four of us quite tired, but not tired enough for my friend and I to search around the back of the building for any lurking musicians, just in case we’d be lucky to run into someone. As we made our way back to the loading area, a small group of people stood together and spoke with one another. The two of us didn’t really think anything of it as we walked towards them to meet back up with Mom who had stayed behind. She had set us on a time limit since we had a ways to drive home, and our limit was coming short. Yet, one of the people within the group looked familiar from a distance. We got closer and—

It was Billy Sherwood.

In my mind, Billy was still something of a “new member” to me and I didn’t have a previous attachment to him, so for a very short moment, I almost kept on walking. But I still liked Billy, so when the group dispersed a bit, I stepped forward.

“Hi, nice to meet you!” I began, receiving a kind, happy smile and a ‘hi’ from Billy in return. “This is my second time seeing you with the band and you guys really brought the house down.”

“Thank you very much!” he said, still smiling.

Copy of Fragile and my metallic sharpie in hand, I continued on, “Alright, now, I know you weren’t on this album.”

“No, I wasn’t,” he teased a slight grin in his features. “I was about… Five?”

That made me laugh. Billy seemed quite easy to talk to. “Well, I’m gonna have you sign it anyways.”

He readily obliged, cheerful as can be, and asked me my name. “With a ‘K,’ right?” Making sure his writing was neat, he wrote out the words “Hello, Krista” with his signature and a smiley face next to it. And as far as I know, Billy doesn’t always write smiley faces either, so I held that little fact with pride.

He asked my friend for her name as well, to which I added that I had dragged her along to the show with me. She was not a prog fan originally, but I’m slowly introducing her to the music and hoping to turn her into one. Fingers crossed.

“It’s very different, huh?” said Billy. “Nothing like Jay-Z!”

Once she had her ticket signed, we almost went on our way, but I stopped when two women asked Billy if he had a pen to sign with. He didn’t.

“Oh, I have one! You can borrow mine!” I quickly offered, rifling in my bag for the black sharpie instead.

Billy’s smile showed again. “Krista has one!”

After having their merchandise signed and offering me their thanks for letting them borrow my sharpie, and my “have a good rest of your night” towards Billy. My friend and I quickly made our way back towards where Mom and my cousin were waiting, Billy sending us off with an “I like your dress!”

From a distance, I could see that Mom was waving, but she looked almost frantic. My brows furrowed and I almost felt a little worried, so we walked a little faster. But I noticed that as we walked closer, out of the corner of my eye, someone stood out in my vision. A man stood a head above the medium-sized group of people nearby, long limbed, with long black hair that was partially bleached platinum-silver, distinctive features, and a large pair of sunglasses. Todd Rundgren. It was the Todd Rundgren.

I hadn’t expected Todd to be out meeting fans that night, especially since he had a scheduled meet and greet you had to pay for earlier in the day. Usually with scheduled VIP meet and greets, it’s near impossible to meet any of the musicians for those who couldn’t afford the VIP package. Instead, I had been expecting to possibly run into Kasim Sulton instead; he’s known for always meeting his fans. But I never would have expected to run into Todd.

According to what Mom had told me later, he and his wife Michele were out walking the area by themselves when they were stopped by a thankfully smaller-sized group of fans, bless them. But Todd was his usually cordial and gracious self. As far as I’ve heard, he’s always kind to his fans.

As I waited for the people who had gotten there before me to finish taking pictures and their conversations with Todd, Michele approached me with a bubbling kindness, as is her personality.

“Would you like me to take your picture for you?” she offered, her tone brimming with happiness and excitement. “And what’s your name?”

The two of us made idle conversation as we waited for Todd, including her glancing over my Utopia copy of Oops! Wrong Planet, my favorite album of theirs and one of my favorite albums that Todd has been a part of. She turned the vinyl over to the back side, looking over the pictures of Todd, Kasim Sulton, Roger Powell, and Willie Wilcox. “He looks like our son!” she spoke happily, pointing to Todd’s picture.

But whenever she could, Michele tried to get his attention. “Todd, you need to take a picture with Krista!” It made me happy that she had my interests at heart and made sure that I got my picture in the end.

Eventually, the majority of the group left and it was my turn. Todd and I took our picture together as first order of business with Michele’s help. She took multiple pictures using my Mom’s phone, which I was glad of because it ensured that we got a good picture, and we did. Taking my picture with Todd was actually more personable than I expected it to be. Todd is surprisingly a bit of a shy man offstage, so I was under the impression that he wouldn’t be as outwardly friendly as he was, but I was happily proven wrong. He didn’t seem to mind the closeness, and taking our picture almost felt like a hug from the side.

But of course, I had to have Todd sign my vinyl as well, which he happily agreed to. But before we left, my friend having also gotten her picture and ticket signed by Todd, I had to get a picture of him with my cousin. I had turned her into a Yes fan, but I had yet to bring her into the world of Todd’s music. But he was here, so she might as well get proof of meeting him, right?

“Just one more picture,” I told him, gesturing to my cousin who was standing right next to him. However, Todd thought I was meaning myself, so he reached a hand out to me.

“Oh, no, not me. My cousin.”

He looks confused for a moment, glancing right past where I had pointed considering the height difference between him and my cousin. Yet, he soon glanced down and jumped a little when he noticed her with a bit of a laughing, “oh!” Picture taken. Same old song and dance.

“We’re introducing her to the world of progressive rock,” I had told him.

He showed the smallest glimpse of a smile before folding his hands together. “Be gentle with her,” he said to me with a slightly teasing tone to his voice. “There’s a lot of crazy stuff out there.”

“What did you say about not meeting Todd Rundgren?” my friend quipped to me.

I was happy, Mom was happy, my friend was happy, my cousin was happy—we were all happy, so that was our signal to head on home. But for me, I was on cloud nine. Someone that hadn’t been with us would have hated me during our drive home from how much I gushed about meeting Todd, Carl, and Billy. But I didn’t care. This was certainly going to be a night to remember. One that might even top the Yes featuring ARW, but I don’t like to list those types of things on scales. I don’t pick favorites.

But one thing is for sure: I’m keeping the picture of me with Todd as my lock screen for a very, very long time.

#long post #EXTREMELY long post holy shit I'm sorry #Yes band #non Yes #text #photo #death mention #Yestival #Jon Davison #Billy Sherwood #Steve Howe #Dylan Howe #Geoff Downes #Alan White #Todd Rundgren #Kasim Sulton #Carl Palmer #admin post #Admin Krista

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