the rust belt? what's next, the dust belt? the gust belt? the crust belt? the disgust belt? the must belt? the fust belt? the adjust belt? the discussed belt? the fussed belt? the trust belt? the just belt? the robust belt? the combust belt? the unjust belt? THE BELT??
2 notes
·
View notes
🥞 PANCAKE 🌺 HIBISCUS 🎁 PRESENT alle 3 und hier sind kekse.
OC Emoji Asks
🥞 PANCAKE - what is their comfort breakfast?
Mercy & Reed: Answered here!
Delta: pretty much the same as Mercy - things like pancakes, waffles, etc, preferably with fruit in them.
🌺 HIBISCUS - do they have any allergies?
Mercy: nope!
Reed: dust
Delta: also no
🎁 PRESENT - what types of presents would they be most happy to receive? are they good at gift giving?
Mercy: She’s apparently the odd one out because she loves getting things like clothing and jewelry as gifts, but she does also enjoy more practical items like knives(but preferably more ornate ones). As far as gift giving, she’s very perceptive and usually picks up on peoples’ preferences and anything specific they seem to be interested in, so she’s overall pretty good at picking things out.
Reed: I wouldn’t necessarily say he’s good at gift giving, but he tries and he does put some thought into it; his gifts tend to be things he picks up that he thinks specific people will enjoy, and there’s at least a 50% chance whatever he’s gifting was stolen. As far as gifts he likes receiving, he’s very partial to dog-related gifts along with more practical items like lighters, knives, ammo, etc.
Delta: Their gift giving skills are pretty similar to Reed- they like gifting things that have a practical use, and they also like receiving gifts with a practical use. They especially appreciate being given higher tech weapon/armor mods, robotics mods, & rare junk items.
2 notes
·
View notes
Black Belt Eagle Scout—The Land, the Sea, the Sky (Saddle Creek)
Photo by Nate Lemuel
The Land, The Water, The Sky by Black Belt Eagle Scout
Katherine Paul taps a deep connection to native American traditions in this third full-length, weaving landscapes and lore into songs the artist wrote while retreating homeward to Swinomish tribal lands during the pandemic. Yet while Paul is grounded in, as the title says, The Land, the Sea, the Sky, they mostly eschew obvious sonic references to an indigenous heritage. These songs blister and spiral and swirl in early 21st century guitar-centric, indie-fashion.
Consider, for instance, “My Blood Runs Through This Land,” whose white-noise clouds of distorted guitar part for radiant dream-pop descants and reverb-thundering drums. The touchstones are obliterating shoegaze of the MBV variety layered over with Cocteau Twins-ish incantations. It rocks pretty hard, though in an inchoate, vision-haunted way, as does “Sedna,” a song about a mythical ancestor who sacrifices her fingers to bring the ocean’s bounty to her people.
“Sčičudᶻ (a narrow place)” is gentler, more translucent, its title taken from an island connected to the mainland by a thin strip of land near Paul’s tribal home. The lyrics run more confessional, however; a lover observes the loved one dancing. Paul sings in a whispery soprano, flickering, but all the sounds around them are bold and clean—a thunderous bassline, an arching long-noted guitar solo, the pummeling of definitely-not-tribal drums.
“Fancy Dance” is maybe the live highlight, a song that imagines a Swinomish girl dancing furiously at a tribal gathering. It finds the throughline between that girl and the rebels of punk and Riot Grrrl, celebrating the pounding, bouncing, obliterating exhilaration of loud music in any culture.
Paul invites fellow Phil Elverum to sing a few lines in “Salmon Stinta,” a lovely, temperate outing framed by muttering guitars, wavering, hard-to-pin down synth vibrations and breathy vocals. (Paul was close to Elverum’s now deceased wife Geneviève Castrée .) The two of them join in gentle, wordless “ba-bahs” and then Elverum shyly picks up the narrative of fish returning home to breed.
“Spaces,” near the disc’s end is similarly soft and serene, filled out with interweaving string parts, though flaring, at intervals with wild slides of guitar. It is here, though, that we finally get an inkling of the music that must have surrounded Paul as a tribal child, just as the woods and animals and water did. Both their father and mother sing on the track, their dad in a striking wordless vibrato that sounds nothing like indie rock. In an album where Black Belt Eagle Scout celebrates their home, that’s the song where they finally let the listeners into the house.
Jennifer Kelly
3 notes
·
View notes