#extraordinarily good album

[commajade]

okay. hear me out.

hard and juice are adapting to 4th gen trends in their own style contemporary shinee, high intensity and surprising title tracks

the feeling is cute shawol fan song to sing together at concerts

10x is classic jazz funk experimental shinee

like it is fresh bright classic shinee

identity is key leading shinee, pride anthem perfect gay club beat bright electro dance pop

sweet misery is taemin leading shinee, sentimental bittersweet american pop but elevated like 2kids but shinee version

insomnia is minho leading shinee, krnb like the chase mini album but needing a whole group

gravity is onew leading shinee, gentle and sweet and vocal-heavy and emotionally sincere

#shinee #extraordinarily good album #shinee is so good at being shinee

[iamdangerace]

4 Albums Tag

Once upon a time, @ourladyofomega and @justmakesuresheeatsthemouse each posted 4 or 5 incredibly cool albums that they were listening to intensively during the weeks just prior to the time of their posts, which was, I am sorry to admit, quite some time ago. Then they tagged me to do the same. Thank you so much, both of you. Album tags are always fun, primarily because I got to listen to the music you selected, and you did not disappoint.

I prefer listening to LPs, Eps, singles with B Side songs over listening to song playlists. I think that in most cases albums of songs listened to as a whole best convey the artists’ expression of the complete story they want told. Listening to the individual songs is like reading a quotation from a book. It may be powerful, but it’s still being taken out of context.

At any given point in time, I listen most intensively to albums of which I recently acquired physical media. Here are 4 of the albums I acquired during the past few weeks:

Sonic Youth Live in Brooklyn, NY (2023)

This is the recording of the final live performance given by Sonic Youth in the U.S. after 30 some years of touring. It was played on an outdoor stage at the Williamsburg Waterfront in Brooklyn NY on August 12, 2011. Kim, Thurston, Lee and Steve (joined by Mark Ibold, of Pavement, on bass guitar) sound brilliant on this recording.

Super Heroines, Cry For Help (1982/ 2014)

Super Heroines was the punkerest of the deathrock bands formed in Los Angeles during the early 1980s. Cry For Help was their debut album. On this album, Super Heroines featured Sandra Ross on bass guitar; Del Mar Richardson on drums; with vocals and guitar by Eva Ortiz. Eva O. was also briefly one of the many guitarists to come and go from Christian Death and she contributed to their album: Only Theatre of Pain (1982). She was Rozz Williams’ wife from 1987 until shortly before he hanged himself in 1998. She is alleged to have been in a relationship with The Night Prowler, Richard Ramirez, before his arrest. Eva’s 4 decades + making goth rock earned her the title of L.A.’s Queen of Darkness, and she continues to earn that title today. Cry For Help is an embodiment of her dark energy and talent. Eva’s throaty vocals and searing guitarwork gives the album a very cool goth punk sound.

Magic Dirt, Girl (2008)

This is currently my favorite album by Australia’s seminal indie rock band from Geelong, Victoria. Magic Dirt is: Adalita (Srsen)(vocals/guitar), Dean Turner (bass guitar), Raul Sanchez i Jorge (guitar) and Adam Robertson (drums).

Mannequin Pussy, Gypsy Pervert (2014)

Hella talented. Zero fucks to give. I think the band’s name stands for “zero fucks to give.” On Gypsy Pervert, Mannequin Pussy is: Marisa Dabeast (vocals and guitar), Thanasi Paul (guitar) and Drew Adler (drums).

I’m going to take advantage of the precedent set by @ourladyofomega and add a bonus album: The Lion and the Cobra by Sinéad O'Connor (1987). Not something I just acquired. I acquired a number of copies decades ago. In fact, I was surprised to see that I have a cassette tape still in the factory wrap. I’ll have to give it as a gift to someone who I know will appreciate it. I also hadn’t listened to it much for a very long time until recently. Recently. I've listened to it very intensively.

I tag: @ellingerfarmer @bonnieprincegnarly @sage9991 @maldoror-est-mort @experimentv @thedown5 @sexcaprice @cchris47 @left-handed-leftist @cavegirl66 @myfriendgoo94 @quietquietlife @xenon2022 @hannahcheeks @itsmsstone

Look, I know many of you taggees tagged me for similar things and I haven’t responded yet. I know this because I kept the email notifications. In some cases, it was a very long time ago. I didn’t ignore them. I’ve been slowly working my way through a massive backlog of follow-backs and tags. Maybe tagging you now isn’t the appropriate thing to do, but I also know you all have extraordinarily good taste in music and would probably throw up some pretty cool album titles that I'd like to see and hear. And isn’t what I want really the important thing here?

Also anyone else who wants to play please do it. You can even dm me and I’ll edit you onto the list of the tagged and no one will be the wiser. Then Bob’s your uncle.

#4 albums tag #mine

[jasongracedefenseattorney]

here’s my full review of the tortured poets department: the anthology by taylor swift. i’m just going to start off by saying this is a grown ass woman and a billionaire and if you believe her music is above reproach just because she embodies girlhood or you liked the album or whatever just keep it trucking because i get to say whatever i want here.

first here’s the songs i like:

the black dog (what girl hasn’t checked a location, i ask you?!?)

chloe or sam or sophia or marcus (it could be traffic sounds and my name being in the title will still make me like it)

the alchemy

clara bow (this one makes me go 🎀🧚🏻‍♀️💕)

thank you aimee (grandchild of mean)

the albatross

peter (really mostly just the ending)

the bolter

the manuscript

the smallest man who ever lived (i will never hate a song that is about how matty healy sucks)

i can do it with a broken heart (corny but i have already seen edits with it and the right edit could make me like any song plus certain parts remind me of yoyok)

guilty as sin?

my boy only breaks his favorite toys (specifically for the line “im queen of sandcastles he destroys” which i like)

but daddy love him (she’s real for saying cut the fucking whining)

fortnight (post malone’s positive affect on my enjoyment cannot be overstated)

now for my opinions:

many of the songs aren’t BAD just completely unmemorable like i remember nary a lyric or tune of cassandra or the prophecy or robin etc etc

jack antonoff should be strung up! the only good things he’s done are 1. melodrama by lorde, and 2. inspiring margaret by lana del rey (plus the occasional good taylor song like getaway car and sweet nothings but whatever) honestly the two have outgrown each other and their music apart is way more interesting than anything they do together. aaron dessner is a hero.

i have no technical issues with florida!!! but as someone who has spent quite a bit of time in florida it feels like someone romanticizing newark, new jersey and that feeling stretches so deep that not even florence + the machine could make me enjoy what is otherwise a really fun song

there must be something about british men bc people dating british guys write so american by olivia rodrigo and paper rings and people who have broken up with british guys write so long, london

who’s afraid of little old me feels like the perfect example of every criticism taylor gets. she is the most powerful voice in hollywood, is extraordinarily litigious, and has won in every way that matters but still she acts like every criticism of her is an attack on girlhood and feminism. like she is a grown woman writing “i’m just a girl” music about how not being universally adored is such a huge tragedy and it just feels so corny

i look in peoples windows and down bad are both songs i’m sure i’ll love two months from now

the line about 1830 without the racists is CRAZY. even without the racists that was not a good time!

overall a very weak album. it’s like she’s stuck in some sort of perma-youth where she is unable to mature beyond “all of my exes are either the devil or taylor lautner” and it shows how very insular her adulthood has been. she’s been famous her entire adult life and her music sounds like the kind of lyric a teenager writes in their notes app. like i don’t hate the music but it’s all just so extraordinarily mid. every song on this album could be on any other album of any other pop girlie and i wouldn’t blink. taylor is supposed to be one of the strongest lyricists of our time and we’re getting lyrics like “touch me while your bros play grand theft auto”

#taylor swift #the tortured poets department #the anthology #like i’m sorry taylor it’s a flop! #tayvis #i really wanted to like it #idk not super obsessed with it the way i thought id be #tbh i think she’s chasing the high of folklore here and it’s not working #folklore saved her career really #she was one flop from a vegas residency #and now every album is the most honest and vulnerable album ever! #and it’s all the same synth pop over lyrics that are like #you spit on my bones and left me there in the graveyard #all the while two songs later it’s like #now i DID cheat on you but im taylor swift so you should have expected it

[apureniallsource]

Niall Horan is more than Mr Nice Guy

Three years after his last release, the 29-year-old singer has jumped feet first into the spotlight to promote third album The Show, which lands on 9th June.

“I’m more excited than I thought I would be,” Horan says of his return, a quiet confidence lingering. With outstretched legs, the double-denim-clad singer lounges in his chair, decanting still water from a glass bottle, as we settle in for our chat in his luxury London hotel suite. A high-pitched giggle ripples through him when two builders, dawdling on a pulley lift, nab his attention through the window, before he apologises for losing eye contact. “I’m revved up, but I’m nervous. I hope I didn’t waste 18 months writing something for people not to like it.”

Those 18 months in question were spent, in part, during the coronavirus lockdown, which acts as inspiration for many of the introspective lyrics on The Show. It was the first time in a decade that the singer had, well, nothing in his schedule, allowing time to contemplate his meteoric rise to fame. “There’s no heartbreak stuff [on this album], so there needed to be a new concept. The only good part of the pandemic for me was that I was actually happy being still. I had time to breathe; I realised it doesn’t have to be a thousand miles an hour all the time.”

For the uninitiated, the first six years of Horan’s career were spent in the extraordinarily successful band, One Direction. Originally from Mullingar, Ireland, Horan auditioned for X Factor as a solo artist in 2010, later forming a five-piece alongside Harry Styles, Liam Payne, Louis Tomlinson and Zayn Malik. What followed was unparalleled success, multiple award wins and huge stadium gigs. “I loved touring, but it was fucking crazy,” Horan muses now. “We’d go to countries and never see a second of it - it was hotel, venue, plane, same again. We couldn’t get out the [hotel] door. If you went out in the car, you’d be seen and chased [by fans]. I understand why it was going on, but it gave me a thing where, when I came back to London, I would be afraid to go out. There was a period where I actually couldn’t.”

1D announced their hiatus in 2016, and Horan released his first solo album, Flicker, the following year. His second, Heartbreak Weather, came in 2020. Three years later in February, he dropped The Show’s sparkling lead single, ‘Heaven’, taking to social media to celebrate.

“I was lying in bed when management texted to say the song was out, so I checked Twitter. The numbers were fucking nuts. I was up for hours seeing what people were saying.” Horan generally views social platforms as a tool for fun, and mainly use them to engage with followers. “Sometimes I type my name in to see tweets I’m not tagged in. If I see the fans talking about me without tagging me, I’ll reply. [My TikTok ‘For You Page’] is full of people doing dances to my songs, golf, and mid-century modern furniture. I like winding people that don’t like me up. I get such a laugh. I also try to reply to people who ask genuine questions about the music, or what I’m up to.”

With 14 years in the public eye under his belt, Horan has also seen a darker side of the internet. “I’ve [read that I’ve] been in car crashes that I wasn’t in. I’ve been in three or four fake ‘PR stunted’ relationships. What’s the old phrase? It’s tomorrow’s chip paper. I care about what the fans think, but there’s always going to be people… who would never say a thing like that to your face, because they’re cowards.”

As our time together rolls on (me looking at Horan, Horan looking at the procrastinating builders), his genuine charm reverberates around the giant hotel room. A chatty openness takes the conversation from his favourite true crime documentary (The Jinx) to tips for long haul flights (green noise) and best skincare advice (facial steaming). It’s this endearing, positive aura that makes his Nice Guy Reputation™ legitimately easy to believe. But what’s his secret?

“Don’t be a prick?” Horan jokes. “There’s no secret to that. Just don’t be one. My Irishness? My humble upbringing? This is like some kind of questionnaire. A combination of a few things. Carefree attitude?”

Horan laughs off the suggestion that he’s going to dinner parties with groups of celebrities, instead insisting he has “two really good [industry] friends, and a tight circle of old mates. People have this idea that all famous people are friends. But you’re not friends with everyone in your office, are you? I remember seeing Channing Tatum on a plane. I’d never met the guy in real life, but he waved. We were laughing later. He was like, ‘I felt like I had to do the token ‘celebrity to celebrity’ kind of moment.’”

One person Horan has connected with on a deeper level is Lewis Capaldi. “He’s just a diamond geezer,” Horan says, before sharing a better-than-average imitation of a Scottish accent. “There’s not a bad bone in his body. He’s a solid friend, and he also happens to be one of the funniest fuckers you’ve ever met in your life. We’re in a lot of WhatsApp groups together.” Horan also reached out to fellow Irishman Paul Mescal, when Normal People came out. “He’s a nice fella. When he first moved to London, I talked to him a bit. But then the pandemic happened, and we never spoke again.”

The singer briefly touches on his relationship with Amelia Woolley, who he’s been with since 2020. On whether he has a romantic side, Horan says, “I think so. I wouldn't say I’m like ‘rose petals on the floor’ type of romantic, but I'm good at caring. I'm good at making dinners and the day-to-day stuff." On love languages, he adds, "I’m good at words of affirmation and I’m good at touch.”

Album release aside, 2023 also marks Horan’s 30th birthday, with the singer entering his third decade in September. “I’m excited for it - I’ve heard your 30s are the best time of your life,” Horan says, enthused. “I’ve never been one of those people to overthink timelines. I hope I don’t age too much!” On plans for the next decade, he's thoughtful for a moment. “I’d like to still be doing this, going around the world, still playing to thousands of people. I’d like to win a Grammy. I’d like to be happy. And to still have decent skin.”

Better keep at the steaming, then.

#niall horan #cosmopolitan uk #07june

[fortuna9]

Explaining my band dr!

In this reality I'm the frontwoman of Velvet Veil. We have no specific genre, but we experiment with rock, folk, etc.

The band consists of Seraphina Noir (me), Ashton Locke (guitarist and my love interest), Luna Skye (bass) and Ezra Echo (drummer)

We have 5 full band albums. Our debut album was released in 1996, sophmore in 2000, third in 2007, fourth in 2015 and fifth in 2019.

Ash is my main piece, my soulmate, but our relationship is rocky to say the least lol. We're childhood friends, we started dating in '95, broke up '99, had an enemies era, became friends again in 2012, and got back together in 2014.

I wanted this dr to feel like a liminal space and like some indie movie from 1999 that will change your life.

Humans in this reality are both nocturnal and diurnal, and only need 2 hours of sleep, though most people choose to sleep longer.

People have fair working hours, conditions and wages, and companies don’t exploit their workers.

Your powers are a manifestation of your identity but are very subtle.

For example, some people may be extraordinarily good at swimming, almost like a mermaid. Some people may be extremely good at reading other people and are attuned to others’ emotions on a supernatural level.

People’s powers manifest more like hums, vibrations, and auras, subtly influencing the environment around them.

Your powers are increased in community settings (like bands), but at the risk of your powers when alone being weakened.

Time is ambiguous, fluid, and non-linear, but it’s still easy to navigate.

There’s always some type of background music or “soundtrack”, and music is a powerful element and character.

The environment is mercurial, reflecting the emotions and states of people in it.

There are some videogame-like elements, including title cards, voiceovers for fights, unique objects, and levels. (inspired by Scott Pilgrim)

Once you defeat someone in a fight they respawn in their house.

There’s a lot of different means to travel (like the Subspace Highway)

Memories and emotions have a tangible effect and often take on physical forms that you have to defeat or reconcile with.

You can explore your mind in a literal sense.

That's all I got for y'all today, feel free to ask me questions, you're shifting tonight btw <3

#fame dr #band dr #shifting #shifting antis dni #shiftblr #reality shifting #desired reality #velvet veil dr

[cursehole]

Hii!! Here are some random q's. Answer as many or as little as you want. :)

What's your favorite season?

Favorite smell?

Best thing that happened to you this week?

Most obscure fact that you know of?

Fondest/favorite memory?

Have a nice day!! ✨️✨️

oh such sweet questions :,-)

Favorite season is summer for sure. I love the heat and the sights, smells and sounds.

My favorite smell is almond and shea bc they remind me of a couple of my ocs who I love very dearly / w \

Today I had a really really really good cello lesson, and that made me extraordinarily happy. Killed it this week!!!!

It’s hard to pick, but the dramatic lore, in all its depth and detail, between Taking Back Sunday and Brand New behind the album ‘tell all your friends’ is probably the funniest of obscure facts I know 🪦

Fondest memory is also so so hard. Well, now that it’s October, I am thinking so much about the fun things my sister and I would do for the season. We had many traditions and enjoyed the whole month together, it was our favorite holiday. So, right now, I guess those happy memories feel the fondest of all 💕

#ask #Anon #thank you for the cute ask!

[misguidedswagger]

trust: chapter 1

a/n: hi! i’ve been gone for a VERY long time, i know, but i’m back with this! idk if anyone’s gonna wanna read it, but oh well lol. i found out live in denver was remastered and now my ryan ross obession is back full force lol, enjoy! 

warnings for this story include: angst, smut, cheating, and more. read at your own discretion.

trust masterlist

entire masterlist

w.c: 2,085

Brendon, Jon, Ryan, and Spencer sat and listened to the studio version of the album that they'd created together. Nervously, they stared ahead at the older male who listened intently to their music, staying completely silent. Once the demo album had finished, the eldest clicked pause on the computer to prevent the tracks from looping, and leaned back on the couch before nodding and clasping his hands together. The four barely-out-of-high-school boys had matching racing heart rates as they waited in anticipation for him to say anything at all. Every moment of silence felt like an eternity.

"I've gotta sign you guys. You have such an excellent sound that the world needs to hear. Don't even get me started on how phenomenal your lyrics are," He turned to Ryan, nodding at him as he kept talking, "You're so young yet so poetic. I dig it, man. Keep up the good work." Pete said, a large smile overtaking his face. An honored smile slowly wriggled its way onto the tallest member's face as he looked down at his hands, embarrassed and nervous, yet grateful.

Brendon was the first to shoot up and yell, "Are you serious?! Hooooly shit!" He laughed giddily, Spencer and Jon high-fiving as Ryan sat in shock, voiceless. Brendon pulled him up and gave him a very tight hug, "Dude, thanks to your awesome lyricism, we're going places!" Ryan still hadn't been able to speak, but when he opened his mouth to attempt such, Pete stood up and grabbed the phone buzzing in his back pocket and glanced at it before making a quick exit, "Sorry guys, gotta head to my own rehearsal. Talk soon." The boys had all nodded and basically yelled their gratitude as he walked away, and Brendon followed behind him to let Pete out, as they were at Brendon's house. Though, before Pete left the Urie house, he turned and spoke loud enough for the whole band to hear him, "And hey, congrats. Seriously."

Brendon nodded his thanks as he let the man out and turned back to his friends and bandmates. For someone who never really knew when exactly to be quiet, Brendon was pretty much speechless, minus some excited laughs.  He pulled everyone into a hug, to which everyone gratefully partook in. Though, a kind and gentle voice interrupted their excitement and celebratory hug,

"Woah, I leave the house for like two hours and everyone's hugging. Everything okay-" Before she could properly formulate her question, the younger girl was swept off of her feet by her older brother, causing her to giggle. "Jesus, Brendon, what the hell happened? You finally get laid?"

Her comment caused the boys to laugh, including her obnoxious older brother. "Pete just left–"

It was her turn to interrupt now, "Did you guys get signed?!" Brendon's words dissolved into excited giggles and he nodded emphatically. She squealed in excitement and hugged him tightly.

"So, is it just a Urie thing to interrupt each other, or...?" Ryan finally spoke up, mostly directing his comment towards Spencer and Jon rather than the two siblings. The two siblings' hug broke and the girl laughed at her brother's best friend's comment.

Ryan felt his heart skip a beat at the sound of her laugh, but he turned his head away once his and her eyes connected. She couldn't see him blush. Her brother would kill him if he found out how Ryan felt.

Y/n Urie was untouchable, deemed so by her protective older brother. It bothered Ryan to extraordinarily painful degree, the fact that he'd never be able to have Y/n all to himself, he'd never be able to take her on meaningful dates, to be able to kiss her beautiful face, touch her incredibly stunning body, be the man she told her deepest secrets to, or anything remotely similar.

A year ago, Brent fucking Wilson ruined that for him, and he'd never forgive him for that. Brent and Y/n had dated for about 3 years, and Y/n loved him with all of her soul, and Brent acted like he loved her all the same, until New Year's Eve.

Keltie Knight. A girl that the Urie's, and Ryan grew to hate.

Y/n had been looking everywhere for her boyfriend, as she wanted to kiss him as the year changed, she walked around the party, opening several doors, calling for him. She finally opened a bedroom door and found her so-called love of her life on top of Keltie, and she felt her heart absolutely shatter at the sight.  Her world began to spin. Who knew that in a party with blaring music, the sound of a heart splintering could still be heard?

The worst part? Brent showed absolutely no remorse. As he kept his pace, pleasing the girl beneath him, he held eye contact with Y/n. Y/n dropped the cups she was holding and ran out of the house, pushing past her very concerned older brother and his best friend.

Brendon felt his chest tighten in anxiety and worry as he looked at Ryan, he tilted his head towards the doorway Y/n ran through and started speed walking in the direction she had come. "Make sure she's okay." Brendon spoke before turning back around.

Ryan sprinted out of the house, following Y/n's footprints in the snow, "Y/n!" He called after her before she turned to him, the moonlight highlighting the tears that now cascaded down her cheeks. Ryan lost every sentence he'd prepared as he looked at the girl he'd loved, truly distraught.

So he did what he thought best, he held his arms open for her. She ran into his arms and sobbed her heart out as Ryan pet her hair soothingly, "Hey...Shhh, let it out, sweetheart. I'm here. Talk to me, what's going on?"

Ryan didn't mean to use a pet name on her, it just kind of slipped. He felt his face heat up in embarrassment before he mentally smacked himself; his girl, his best friend's sister, was very clearly upset over something and he was making things about himself. How selfish could he be? He couldn't help that Y/n truly brought out the protective side in him.

Y/n didn't realize that Ryan called her 'sweetheart', or if she did, she said nothing about it. She only pressed her face deeper into Ryan's chest, feeling if she hid her face far enough into him she'd forget what she'd just seen and felt.

Ryan lightly tapped her shoulder before he pulled her back a little bit to look her in the eyes as he cupped her face. "Y/n?" He pressed gently, causing her to take a deep breath as Ryan used the pad of his thumbs to wipe the tears under her eyes.

"Brent...Brent and Keltie Knight..." was the only thing she could muster before she collapsed in on herself, sobbing even harder than she previously was.

With as few words and she had used, Ryan pieced together what happened and held her as tightly as he could. Anger raged through his bloodstream and he felt his body start to heat up from pure fury.

Ryan then realized how cold the girl in his hold was. Ryan took off his gray sweater, placing it over the shaking girl's shoulders. He wrapped his arms around her once more and rested his chin on her head before sighing softly, "I know the last thing you want to do is go back in there, but you're freezing, Y/n. Plus, Brendon was really worried about you."

She only nodded against his chest before pulling away and smearing her already smudged makeup with the back of her hand. She held Ryan's hand tightly, and she looked up at him.

They've always said the eyes are the window to the soul, Ryan would know. He knew almost every poetic saying there was: that saying was loud and true, especially right now. His heart cracked into little slivers as he could see how broken the younger girl truly was.

She squeezed his hand tightly and he glanced down before looking back up at her, "Please don't let go." She quietly begged, causing him to nod.

He forced his feelings, heart racing and all, to steady. He couldn't believe how his body was betraying him, Y/n was just cheated on and he couldn't keep his thoughts from swimming.

"I promise I won't." Ryan affirmed, squeezing her hand back.

Ryan guided her back to the house and the music that was previously blaring was now completely off, or turned down. Ryan and Y/n could hear the loud booming of a crowd and the grunting and yelling of two males, the sound of skin to fist echoing into the dark night.

The two made their way back into the house and shoved their way to the front of the circle that'd formed. Ryan, the taller of the two, spotted their friends, Jon and Spencer and made their way over to him. Spencer, like another older brother to Y/n, took her from Ryan's grip, and she momentarily let go of Ryan's hand. She pulled away before moving over to Ryan, taking his hand again and hiding in his chest once more.

She tilted her head slightly, watching the fight in front of her, for  her unfolded.

Her brother was on top of Brent, punch after punch landing into his nose. Brendon was unscathed, which surprised even Brendon himself. He was smaller than Brent, which had both advantages and disadvantages. Brendon was more agile due to karate, but he was a little weaker. At least, typically he was, but seeing his supposed friend, who was dating his sister, cheating on her unapologetically activated a different type of adrenaline in him.

Brent was bleeding and started to swell like a dropped fruit. "How could you do that to her?!" Brendon shouted down at him, another blow landing into Brent's face, "She and I fucking trusted you!" Another hit.

And another.

And another.

And another.

And then, Brendon stood up.

He walked over to Y/n and pulled her into a hug, still staring at Brent. He hadn't seen her and Ryan holding hands. A good thing. Especially right now. Ryan would've been lying if he said the cuts and blood on Brendon's hands didn't freak him out, at least a bit.

He walked Y/n towards the door before stopping at Brent's barely conscious body and kicking into his side as hard as he could, spitting on him. He wrapped his arms around Y/n once more, Ryan, following after the two.

As they got into the car, Brendon slid into the driver's seat, looking at Y/n in the rearview mirror, "I'm so sorry, Y/n, I won't let another one of my friends hurt you."

~

An elbow to the side knocked Ryan out of his reverie, and with a grunt of pain, he let out an irritated, "What?"

Jon snorted before gesturing towards Y/n who was now standing in front of him, no longer in the arms of her brother,

"I said, are you allergic to anything? I'm making a celebratory cake for you all! Pay attention, Ross!"

Ryan did his best to keep his composure, he rolled his eyes and shoved her playfully, "Obviously not, shouldn't you know this already?" He teased, smiling at her.

"Just making sure. Not trying to hide your dead body if you actually are allergic to something I make." And with that, she turned away and headed toward the kitchen, Spencer and Brendon following after her, excited to eat her awesome cake.

Jon lingered back for a moment with Ryan, "You gotta be careful man. I can't always save you." And then he headed towards the kitchen too.

Shit, was it that obvious he was thinking about her? There were some things she did that made him feel like she could possibly feel the same about her: the small stolen glances at him, the laughing sincerely at his jokes, making sure he was never left out of a conversation, the reassuring hand squeezes when he was nervous, the excited hugs. Man, her hugs were heavenly.

Jon was the only one who knew how Ryan felt about Y/n, hell, Jon was the only one who knew their song 'Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off' was really about Brent and Y/n, and not him and his ex girlfriend. Jon knew everything and helped Brendon know nothing.

Ryan knew he needed to relax and hide his feelings better, but, come on!

She was wearing Ryan's sweater.

That had to mean something, right?

Right?

#ryan ross #ryan ross afycso era #ryan ross afycso #ryan ross x reader #ryan x reader #spencer smith #a fever you can't sweat out #ryan ross fanfiction #fanfiction #x reader #jonathan walker #brent wilson #brendon urie #panic at the disco #patd x reader #live in denver #x reader fanfiction

[rancidpancakebatter]

Grip Tape-Chapter 6 [P.P.]

Pairings: Peter Parker x AFAB Reader

Summary: Peter offers to teach you how to skateboard and who are you to say no? This is a pre-bite fic so we get to enjoy Peter Parker in his full Dorky Display.

Word Count: 2.9k words

Content: MINORS DNI: 18+ Swearing, Marijana Use, Underage Drinking, Bullying

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Chapter Summary: Hanging out with Peter again. You visit his house and listen to the 'X&Y' album by Coldplay. A/N: Mentions of bad mental health (I assume if you read these you probably already have that)

Not a lot happens in this chapter tbh it's just kinda a filler. Next chapter there with be the smoking of marijuana so you have been warned.

Crushes were not a foreign concept to you, but you weren’t used to one this strong. You’ve only been hanging out with Peter for a few days and yet you had completely fallen for this boy. He had smitten you with his charm and charisma and pretty face. 

You had a few crushes over the years but none you would act on. Nothing more than “He’s cute and if he asked me out I would say yes”. But when you thought of it, none of them were Peter. You had always had a stagnate crush on him. And now that you could feel hopeful about it it was hard to not get excited. 

Peter had texted you about an hour after he left letting you know he made it home. You felt bad that he had to skate home at night, maybe your dad would let you borrow the car today. You didn’t sleep well last night, your brain keeping you awake with thoughts of Peter. You guys had decided on you coming over around noon. You were constantly checking how long it would take to get there walking, not wanting to be late. 10 minutes, 25 minutes, 18 minutes. 

You woke up at 8:00 which is much earlier than you would have liked to. You like to sleep in on the weekends, getting up at 9:30-10:00. But your wired mind and anxiety about being late woke you up much sooner. 

You took a shower and got ready. You opted for some shorts because it was nice out, paired with a worn tee and a flannel. You put your hair up and went downstairs to make some breakfast, it felt like a pancake kinda day. 

You were almost done when you hear your dad come down the stairs. 

“Good morning, sweetheart. You’re up early.”

You greeted him as he went to make some coffee, “yeah, I didn’t sleep well last night.”

He peered at you concerned, “Anything wrong? You know you can talk to me right?”

This warmed and broke your heart. You and your dad are extraordinarily close, he’s been there through everything. You guys hadn’t always been so tight. You blamed him for a lot of things when you were younger. Both of you had to learn and grow. Ever since your first trip to the hospital, your dad has been worried about you. It was scary for him and he wanted to know you were safe. 

You looked away from the pancakes, “I promise dad, nothing bad.”

He nodded, not needing any more than that, but crossed the kitchen to hug you. You let yourself melt into it. He always gave great hugs, and he used them a lot to say things he otherwise didn’t know how to say. 

“I love you bug”

“I love you too”

Your father sat down with his coffee and the paper and you continued making pancakes. You set them down in front of him and he gave you a quiet 'thanks'. 

“Hey dad,” you began sweetly, your father hummed knowing you were going to ask a favour. “Can I borrow the car today?”

He put his paper down and looked at you, “Of course honey, what do you need it for?”

You cleared your throat from some of the orange juice, “I’m hanging out at Peter’s today and I don’t want to walk.” 

At that, your father smirked, “Hanging out with Peter huh?” You covered your face to hide the warmth in your cheeks. 

“Daaad” you whined, muffled by your palms

“What? I didn’t say anything.” he began laughing at your embarrassment, “I just think it’s interesting that you’re hanging out with him so much lately. I mean, the last time I remember you mentioning a Peter was in middle school.” 

You shot your head up, “Oh, please dad, no” You groaned out but he only continued. 

“Oh! Is this the same Peter? The one that you told me you wanted to marry one day because he was so pretty and smart?” You continued to groan as he carried on. 

“How very interesting. I can see what you’re saying, he's very handsome. Does my child have a crush on the tall skater boy?” 

You continued to eat your pancakes in silence ignoring how warm your face was. Your dad laughed to himself as he continued reading the paper. 

Peter was getting similar treatment right about now. His aunt was in her scrubs as she passed out eggs and bacon to her husband and nephew. 

“And they’re coming over today?” his aunt asked trying to be casual. 

“Yeah May, around noon,” Peter replied shortly, not wanting to talk about it. 

“Are they nice?” May continued. Peter had never had a “friend” over before which she thought was shocking. Her nephew was smart and handsome and had the cutest hair. Well, it could use a trim but he refused. 

“Yeah May, they’re cool.” Peter gave her a tight-lipped smile then continued eating. Ben put down the paper he was pretending to read. 

“Is that why you like ‘em?” He asked plainly.

“Uncle Ben I- What do you mean ‘like them’?” Peter gave him a confused strare, scoffing a little too much. Ben and May just looked at each other smiling. 

“Well, I just meant that you probably liked them to invite them over but it seems you think they’re cute too.” Ben was teasing and Peter knew it. 

“I never said I thought they were cute,” he replied quietly, not convincing anyone.

“Then why are you blushing?” Ben shot him a wink as he got up to kiss his wife goodbye. He was off to do some errands and wouldn’t be back until later in the afternoon. 

His aunt was set to leave after breakfast for a shift at the hospital she picked up, “The holidays are coming up and a few extra dollars never hurt.” is what she would say anytime someone brung it up. 

Peter kissed his aunt goodbye and made his way up to his room. It wasn’t dirty. Dirty was when you had food and mysterious stains in your room. It was, however, pretty messy. He had a lot of dirty clothes on the floor and his bed was unmade and his desk was a mess. Normally he wouldn’t care about these kinds of things but he had just watched you panic yesterday about a few clothes on the floor. 

It didn’t seem like long before he got a text

(Y/n):

I’m 10 minutes out

(Y/n): 

My dad let me borrow the car

Peter &lt;3:

cool u can park anywhere

Peter &lt;3:

c u soon

You pulled up in front of a very cute house. It was a little smaller than yours with a porch swing. You made your way up to the door. You always hated screen doors because you never knew how to interact with them. Do you knock on that door or the door door? After moments of deliberation, you opened the screen door and knocked on the main door then stepped back and let the screen close again. You picked at your nails and scuffed your shoe on the ground. 

You hear the door open and are greeted by Peter. He’s in a baggy tee and blue flannel pyjama pants. You couldn’t help but smile. You realize you’ve been doing that a lot lately. It’s not that you didn’t smile before but maybe not. You couldn’t remember. 

“Hey! Come on in.” He smiled opening the door and stepping aside to let you in. 

“Did you just wake up?” He seemed confused by your question and you brought your hand forward to gesture to his comfy attire. 

He blushed, “Nah, I just haven’t changed yet.”

You were both analysing each other. Peter was admiring your outfit, or more so you in your outfit. It wasn’t anything over the top but it was “you” and he liked “you.” You were soaking in the domestic, cozy look Peter had going on. He looked so…soft. I mean he always did that’s part of his appeal but like this, in a threadbare shirt and plaid cotton pants, you want to curl up with him and waste the day away.

Peter realised he was awkwardly staring you down and moved to the side to let you in. You stepped into the not-quite foyer. There was some space before the stairs and the living room and you could see a pile of shoes by the wall. You moved over to take yours off while Peter passed you walking to the kitchen. 

“Do you want anything? Water? Juice?” You politely shook your head suddenly feeling timid. You were at Peter’s house and it seemed just like him. There were pictures on the wall of a lovely couple and Peter over the years. Some other pictures of what seemed to be New York. All framed and on the wall. 

“What about food? It is lunchtime, have you eaten yet?” You told Peter that you hadn’t had anything since breakfast but you weren’t quite hungry yet. He nodded his head saying he wasn’t hungry yet either. 

“Let me give you a tour.” Peter moved quickly through the house. He started with the basement and moved upstairs to show off the kitchen and living room. Pointing to bathrooms and closets as he went. He started heading up the stairs and opened a door, “This is my room.” 

It was dim in there, the curtains were closed still, the only light coming from a small lamp on his nightstand. In the warm yellow light, you took in his messily made bed and the several posters on the wall. They were mostly bands, some you recognised others you didn’t. You turned slowly taking them in. 

You also noticed his computer and a camera sitting on a desk. There was a weird thing on the door that appeared very “makeshift bomb-y” to you but you trusted that it wasn’t. On his dresser, there was a huge sound system. Around the room, there were scattered books and CDs. 

If the house looked like Peter Parker’s home this definitely looked like Peter Parker’s room. Everything about it made sense. It smelled like him too, stronger. Citrus and teakwood. That seemed right. 

Peter stood in the doorway as he watched you slowly twirl around, taking everything in. He was too busy watching you to be nervous about what you thought. You walked over to the bookshelf first and began looking through the titles. 

There was an equal amount of mainstream fantasy as there was mathematical and scientific theory. Any doubts about Peter being smart left your mind. (They were never there but still). Everyone would tease you for your taste or assume that you were super smart for reading philosophy and the classics. You couldn’t imagine reading Einstein and Hawking for fun though. 

You heard a drawer open behind you and you saw Peter grabbing some jeans. He walked back over to you and pointed to a door on your right. “There’s the bathroom if you need it, I’m gonna get dressed.” You nodded as he disappeared. You tried not to be upset with the door for obstructing your view. 

You felt a buzz in your pocket before you could dwell on it much longer. 

Pops: 

Hey honey…You make it okay?

(Kiddo):

Yeah all good! Sorry I forgot to text

Pops: 

It’s all good love…tell Peter I said hi!!

The bathroom door opened and out stepped Peter. You were crouched on the ground browsing through his books. To say Peter seemed tall was an understatement. The contradicting light from the bathroom and his bedroom lamp was giving him a glow you couldn’t explain. Your breath was held hostage in your lungs. 

Peter smiled at you none the wiser. “Did you find anything you liked?” 

You looked back to the books unable to look at him. “Nah, all of these are too much brain work for me.”

He laughed as you continued, “Seriously, reading these is like reading a textbook for fun!”

He made his way over to his bed and you stood up, playing with your hands, suddenly unsure of what to do. Peter began scratching the back of his neck seemingly in a similar boat. 

“I have to confess something,” At Peter’s words your heart stopped, You finally met his gaze. His face was unreadable, he looked a little guilty almost, but only a little. “I didn’t have any plans today…like I don’t know what to do now that you’re here.” He gave an embarrassed laugh as you released the trapped air from your chest. Once you levelled your breathing again you gave him a smile. 

“That’s alright, I like just hanging out with you. We don’t have to do anything.” Peter beamed at you, and you couldn’t help the warmth in your cheeks. 

He stayed quiet for a while, studying you. You seemed to be struggling with eye contact today. He didn’t know what that meant. Did you like him or not? He still couldn’t tell. 

He patted his hand on the bedding beside him and he was pleased when you slowly sat. He didn’t want to dominate the conversation, he had been told he could talk a lot, but he also didn’t want you to feel like you had to. 

“My dad says ‘hi’.” You eventually said, electing to stare at the posters instead of him. 

“Tell him I said ‘hi’ back,” Peter said chuckling. You laughed too which made Peter’s chest fill with warmth. He really did love the sound of your laugh. It was soon followed with more silence. 

“He likes you…by the way,” You said quietly. Peter took the opportunity to glance at you. You were already looking at him with a small smile on your face. Peter’s grew at the realisation. 

“Oh yeah?” He mused.

“Yeah, he likes that we hang out.” You moved some hair from your face and Peter wished that he had gotten to do it. 

“I like that we hang out,” He said it so simply, still gazing at you. Your smile grew and you fought the urge to look away from him. 

“Me too.” You both stared at each other for what felt like ages. The Narrator could tell you that it was only 15 seconds but they won’t. 

Peter got up silently making his way to the sound system, putting in a CD. You watched his movements. He wasn’t particularly graceful but to you, his movement seemed languid like a siren’s song- dance. Yeah, that was it. You couldn’t help your gaze, tracing his long, trimmed limbs. 

You recognised the beginning notes, “Square One, Coldplay.” 

Peter looked at you and smiled, “Yeah it’s the X&Y album”

You nodded your head before moving it to the music. Peter turned up the volume some before he went back to the bed to sit next to you. His leg was bouncing to the beat. He liked you a lot and he didn’t want you to be bored but he was never a great host. 

He chose this CD because Coldplay is pretty universal, a safe bet. He was happy to have made the right decision and you seemed to be enjoying it. However, he was having unexpected difficulty with your closeness. Or rather the lack thereof. You were much too far for his liking. 

He felt like he had to fight every reflex he had, watching your head sway to the music and your fingers dance to the melody. As the song came to an end he flopped on his back looking to the ceiling instead. 

What he didn’t know was you were fighting the same battle. When Peter laid down he silently presented you with the option to lay down with him. You didn’t want to fall back too soon though and make it weird. You couldn’t imagine how that could be weird but you didn’t want to risk missing a physical cue. You spent all of “What if” contemplating when you could lay down. You decided that the end of the song was fine. 

You gently moved down and realized that Peter had taken up more space than you had thought. His hand was by your shoulder and you felt fire there. You and Peter took turns looking at the ceiling and then each other. Neither of you catching the other but feeling the mattress dip when someone would start to turn their head. 

You wanted to touch or hold him, several songs had passed with both of you passively singing parts but no one said anything. You had made a brilliant plan. You feigned a stretch pulling both of your hands above your head before resting one arm across your forehead and the other just under Peter’s hand by your shoulder. 

Peter’s fingers twitched slightly as he took in that it was your fingers that were touching his. Before he lost courage he intertwined them, scanning your face for a reaction. You whipped your head over to confirm that he was actually holding hands when you met his eyes. They were filled with fear, you tried your best to give him a small smile and squeezed his hand gently. He looked down at your fingers and then back at you with a big toothy grin. 

You brought your other hand down to cover your mouth embarrassed by the sudden smile overtaking your features. 

Tag List: @andrews-lovr ilovemoonknight negasonic-teenage-asshole @preciousbabypeter @princesskittycatofmeowland 

#rancid writes #tasm!spiderman x reader #peter parker x you #spiderman x reader #andrew garfield spiderman x reader #andrew peter parker #the amazing spider man #peter parker skate king #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x y/n #spiderman #pre bite peter parker #andrew garfield #tasm #peter Parker imagines #spider-man imagines

[freakingoutthesquares]

Ten Years In A Jumbo-Collared Shirt Words: John Mulvey, Photographer: Peter Walsh Taken from the New Musical Express, June 1992 Transcription: Acrylic Afternoons

"Pulp is... being an anachronism of any kind... living in a dream world... being totally unrealistic... making contact with beings from other planets and snogging them... it's not being different for the sake of it - that's immature... it's all of these things and more - but most of all it's about you and us, and what we can get up to together - OK? - alright, here we go..." (Pulp propaganda)

Today, Pulp is... trying to be superstars in your hometown... organising party games for drunks... loving Des O'Connor and not having to say you're sorry... being fantastic... being mundane... being fantastic and mundane at the same time... dreaming of space-age Sheffield...

"Sheffield's full of half-assed visions of cities of the future that turn into a pile of rubbish," Russell Senior reflects, standing on the biggest traffic roundabout in Europe. "We grew up reading the local paper and seeing 'Sheffield, city of the future,' with a map of how it's going to be and pictures of everyone walking around in spacesuits, smiling. But we're the only ones who took it seriously..."

"When I was younger I definitely thought I'd live in space," says Jarvis Cocker ruefully. "But when you realise you're not going to, it colours your life; you can't think, 'It's alright if I'm signing on because I'll be on Mars soon', you have to try and get it down here." So what are you getting into at the moment? "Cooking. It's very good. Cooking for your friends is very therapeutic, and they always say it's nice, 'cos they're just pleased they didn't have to get out of their seats to help."

Pulp - singer Jarvis, guitarist/violinist Russell, Nick Banks (drums), Steve Mackey (bass) and Candida Doyle (Farfisa, Korg and Stylophone) - are sitting in a dressing room at the Sheffield Leadmill with a pointless prop - a large, silver, faintly sinister head - for company. It is a special day. In the afternoon, hundreds of balloons have been released to mark the debut of their new label, Gift, a perverse indie spin-off from local Techno-vendors Warp. Later, they will play a dizzily great set of twisted disco melodrama. For now, though, they have a long ten years - and extraordinarily unsuccessful career to explain.

"Music's the only thing that can keep you going," says Jarvis, reassuringly clichéd. "If you're not getting paid loads of money and not getting loads of girls sayin ' You're smashing', that's the only thing to fall back on. When I was at school I had specs and bad teeth and was a bit lanky, and so no girls were really interested, but I thought that if I was in a group they'd think I was good... So on that level I've failed miserably. But that's why all sad kids do it, innit? Standing on the stage is like wanking off in front of a mirror. People in bands are social misfits aren't they?"

Looking at Jarvis - still wearing specs, still lanky (I didn't check his teeth) - and the rest of Pulp clad in a hundred shades of brown, a bit of lamé and countless other '70s synthetic atrocities, it's hard not to conclude that they're proud to be social misfits. Russell, meanwhile, is musing on how a band who haven't released an album since 1985 have kept going. "A band that's been together for a decade and has never sold any records is either very, very crap indeed OR they've got something strong keeping them together. I can't make up my mind which of those two it is yet."

"It's about not being able to make it in the real world," reckons Jarvis, back on his misfit tack. "I haven't got a City & Guilds certificate or anything, I haven't got a skill." What about film work (he and Steve are fully trained and occasionally practising video-makers)? "Oh yeah, I have got that," he admits bashfully. "But that's why I went to college, 'cos you do see sad characters walking around who used to be in a band about five years ago, and they always look like a dog that's got lost."

Pulp are currently busier, in bigger demand, than ever before. There's a frantically groovy new single, 'OU', about someone woken up by the sound of his girlfriend leaving him and wondering whether to chase after her or stay in bed; plus there's an album recorded in 1989, 'Separations', finally set for release on their old label, Fire. Both are tense, funny, fizzily danceable and flamboyantly out of step with most of the world, let alone the music scene.

"I like the light entertainment, Des O' Connor feel more than the greasy 'I'm on Highway 66, man' feel," says arch-crooner Cocker. "It's something that's going to die out. You listen to radio 2 - well, I do anyway - and they play Matt Munro, Engelbert Humperdinck and stuff that doesn't really get made anymore. It's a bit clichéd, and that's why people think it's cheesy. But the reason why people performed in that way is 'cos it's quite effective; if you can break through the cheese barrier, you can make contact..."

And so they go on. About people who find their balloons will be treated to a night in with Pulp, to listen to sports themes and BBC Radiophonic Workshop records, and play Stereo Ker-Plunk. About how Choppers are better than Grifters, and how Russell once smashed up the Leadmill dressing room in a fit of pique, only to be caught the next morning sneaking in to replace the bulbs he'd broken.

The last I see of Jarvis, he's standing on the bar at the after-show party, trying to organise the drunken liggers to play musical statues for a can of beer, while 'Nevermind' stops and starts incongruously in the background. It is, like a knackered redcoat struggling to bring culture to barbarians, not a pretty sight. The last I see of Candida, she's leafing through the Leadmill's visitors' book. Amidst pages of revealing scrawls - Spiritualized's inscrutable squiggles, Sultans Of Ping FC's unfunny cartoons - Pulp are there again and again and again; strange, sardonic, not all there but always bloody there. Whoever said all good things must come to an end was a useless liar.

#russell senior #jarvis cocker #steve mackey #nick banks #candida doyle #pulp #almost britpop #90s #indie #interview #printed interview

[ollieofthebeholder]

to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic

<< Beginning < Prev. || AO3

Chapter 34: November 2016

The chirruping of her phone woke Melanie with a start. She was momentarily disorientated by her positioning and the light visible through the window until she remembered she hadn’t fallen asleep in her own bed the night before. Truthfully, she hadn’t meant to fall asleep at all, but evidently she’d been more exhausted than she previously thought.

Before she bothered with her phone, she crossed over to the window. The fresh taper she’d lit the night before had melted down to nothing, the wax pooling and coating the holder it had been placed in. Next to it sat a plate with three squat buns arranged neatly upon it. Three glasses of wine stood next to it. As was the case every year, none of them had been touched.

Melanie’s shoulders slumped. Sometimes she didn’t know why she bothered.

Then again, she’d made her living chasing down ghosts and hauntings, and she’d spent most of her childhood and young adulthood either running down or running from terrifying supernatural entities that wanted very much to kill her, or worse. And if Gerry wasn’t enough of a proof that the dead could conceivably come back for a visit at least, nothing would be.

Still, it would be nice if they actually would.

Her phone chirruped again, and Melanie turned from the window with an aggrieved, “All right, all right!”

It was her text alert, which meant it wasn’t too terribly urgent…yet. Probably it was Martin wanting to know if she’d had better luck than he had this year. Possibly it was Gerry with a lead for her to hunt down. There was an extraordinarily slim chance it was Jon sending her a link to the latest news about the surviving members of Sinner’s Gin, but things had been rather quiet with them in recent months, so it was highly unlikely. She flipped the phone over and unlocked it.

Sure enough, there were two text alerts from Martin, but before she looked at them, Melanie took a moment to study her phone’s background. The lock screen was an ever-shifting mix of album art and promo pics from Ghost Hunt UK—right now it was a relatively minimalist stylized black horse’s head on a blue canvas-looking backdrop—but the background, which wouldn’t be seen unless she unlocked it herself, was of her family. It was the last picture they’d taken together before Gerry’s death, an impulsive shot taken under the sign for the Tube stop where they’d reluctantly parted ways, Melanie’s chin tucked over her brothers’ shoulders and all of them laughing.

Now, though, Melanie really let herself see the details she’d spent so long avoiding—the pallor of Gerry’s skin, the dark circles under Martin’s eyes, the bitterness in her own smile. Martin fussed over both of them, so them both being out of town on wild-goose chases had told on his mental health more than she’d acknowledged in the past. She’d been having trouble with the Ghost Hunt UK team even before Aldershot, in a lot of ways, if she was being honest. And Gerry…had he known then how sick he was? He’d sworn to them both that he hadn’t really believed anything was wrong until his first seizure, but it was possible he was just saying that to keep Martin from feeling guilty about not knowing somehow. Had he known in the very moment he’d promised to come to them the second his boots touched English soil again that he was likely to end up dead inside of six months? Was that why he’d promised to send for them?

She shook her head impatiently. Whatever the case, she told herself firmly, it was in the past. She wouldn’t say the past can’t hurt us, because it absolutely could, but they couldn’t change it, so what was the use of obsessing about it? It’d just make her angry. Melanie was really good at being angry, but she hated being angry at her brothers, which usually made her angrier. She took a deep, steadying breath and tapped over to Martin’s messages.

Neither of them mentioned soul cakes or the spirits of the dead. Instead, it was a pair of questions, sent about five minutes apart.

[Hey, do you want me to invite the rest of the crew from the Archives to come with us today, or would you rather it just be Gerry and me as usual?]

[Or do you even want to do anything this year?]

It actually took Melanie a few minutes to realize what Martin was asking about, and she smacked herself on the forehead as soon as it hit her. How she could have forgotten, she had no idea, but she had. Quickly, she texted him back. [Just us, but maybe the others can join us for ice cream after?]

[Deal. Meet you at the usual place and time. Jon says I can cut out early.]

Feeling a little better than she had right after waking up, Melanie set her phone back down and set to cleaning up the previous night’s offerings before she let her new furry overlords out of their isolation chamber.

As it happened, she encountered Martin a bit earlier than the usual place and time—they both got to Notting Hill Gate at the same time—so she accepted his hug and grabbed his hand as they jumped onto the train. Two stops later, they hopped off to find Gerry waiting for them with a smirk and a very battered bag over one shoulder.

“Hey, Neens,” he said. His voice was the warmest thing about him—the hug he gave her was ice-cold. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks.” Melanie hugged him back, then stepped back with a grin. “Come on, we’re burning daylight.”

“I warn you both,” Gerry said as they emerged into the fading daylight, “I am going to be absolute rubbish at this.”

Martin snorted. “As opposed to every other year?”

“Yeah, well, I’m considerably more out of practice than I was the last time we did this.”

“We didn’t do it last year either,” Melanie said. “Or the year before. Last year we were both…going through some stuff.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Martin agreed. “And the year before that it rained most of the afternoon, so we went to the movies instead. So we’re all in about the same boat.”

“Good.” Gerry grinned. “Then we can all make fools of ourselves together.”

They all had their birthday traditions; Melanie’s was just the only one that carried back to before they’d even met. And it was always the years that they didn’t do one tradition or another that everything blew up in their faces. There was a part of her that ascribed Martin having survived Jane Prentiss’ attack—to say nothing of Gerry’s return—to the fact that they’d taken their traditional picture in Regent’s Park on the eighteenth of April, even if Gerry hadn’t been there for it. It was honestly hard to tell sometimes which of their traditions and rituals actually kept them safe and which were just…comforting.

She’d take both, though.

After twenty years, they knew the paths of Hyde Park well enough that they knew exactly where to go and where to avoid. They stopped at the bench they considered their bench—the one they met at in years when their trips on the Tube didn’t line up—to change. Well, Gerry and Melanie changed, at least, a process which took both of them a considerable amount of time. Martin could simply tie his over his shoes, although he had to turn the key on the left one a couple of times.

“You can’t possibly have grown in the last three years,” Gerry said, grumbling under his breath and tightening his buckles.

“It must’ve shifted in the bag.” Martin held the skate level with his eyes and sighted down the bottom. “God, I hope the teeth aren’t wearing out.”

As she did every year, Melanie paused, half-bent over in the act of tying her laces into a double knot, to marvel again at the way their personalities shone through even in something as simple as roller skates. Hers were the white quad skates with purple wheels Martin and Gerry had jointly given her for her twenty-first birthday, well cared for and sized perfectly for her feet. Gerry’s were a pair of battered black roller blades; he could only just balance on them and frequently fell against the others, but he was stubborn and refused to buy quad skates because he couldn’t find them in black. And Martin’s were a pair of vintage metal skates he’d found when they were thirteen and carefully, lovingly restored to the point that he could wear them.

It helped mitigate the disappointment of the previous night, every year, to have her brothers alongside her as they skated the paths of Hyde Park, stumbling and laughing and teasing each other. Martin’s skates rang cheerfully with every step, and once they got going, they could get a decent speed going—as long as Gerry didn’t fall, which happened a lot. He wasn’t as winded as he’d been in years past, which was good…well, probably good anyway…but he seemed even clumsier than usual. Still, Melanie’s spirits were higher than they’d been since…Aldershot.

As the shadows lengthened, they came up to Melanie’s favorite part of the path—a straight stretch that went on for a good ways, rarely traversed on the best of days and certainly not this late in the afternoon on a gloomy Thursday, with a sharp turn at the end leading to the wide patch of cement where she’d learned to skate twenty-five years previously. She elbowed Martin and grinned up at him. “Race you?”

Martin laughed. He, too, looked more carefree than she’d seen him since Gerry’s death. “You’re on.”

Gerry waved at them. “Go on. I’ll catch you up. Ready, steady, go!”

Melanie took off as fast as she could. Martin’s longer legs put him at a bit of an advantage, but she’d tried roller derby one summer, and while they’d deemed her too small to actually compete, she’d at least retained the basics of speed. She just had to hope they didn’t run into a park officer. Focusing ahead on the end of the path in the gathering dark, she charged ahead like she could outrun everything that had bothered her in the last two years.

Unable to hold in her delight, she flung her arms wide to either side and crowed like a rooster as she let herself glide along the path. She heard Martin’s bright gurgle of a laugh and didn’t even care that it sounded like it was right next to her.

Hang gliding, parasailing, skydiving, even bungee jumping—just because of the nature of the lives they led, and how close they came to the Fourteen, she knew she’d never be able to risk any of them. Roller skating like this was the closest she would ever get to flying under her own power.

She reached the turn in the path and leaned into it as hard as she could, overbalanced, and went skidding on her (thankfully padded) elbows across the path before spinning to a stop. Even that seemed funny to her, and she flopped over on her back, laughing as the helmet thudded against the concrete.

Martin’s face appeared upside down over hers, his curls peeking out under the edges of the helmet. “Are you all right?” he asked, sounding like he was barely containing his own laughter.

“I win.” Melanie smirked up at him, and Martin gave in to laughing. “Help me up, would you?”

She held up her hands, but Martin had other ideas. He grabbed her under the arms, making her squeak with surprise, and hauled her to her feet. Only then did he take her hands, from behind, and start skating slowly forward.

Melanie started laughing again. She couldn’t help it. The joy of the evening had got to her, the delight of being a kid again, at least for a little while—carefree and happy and loved…

“Neens?” Martin had stopped moving, and somehow he was in front of her. He took her cheek in one hand and swiped his thumb against it. “Melanie, what’s wrong, are you hurt?”

Melanie hadn’t realized she’d started crying, but now that she did, she couldn’t stop that, either. She fell against Martin’s chest, nearly knocking him backwards, and clung, burying her face in the soft wool of his jumper and copiously bedewing it with tears.

“I miss her so much,” she whispered.

Martin wrapped his arms around her and held her close, stroking her back and murmuring to her the way he had when she’d woken up from nightmares after they found out about Ivy Meadows, the way he had when they’d sung what they had thought would be their last farewell to Gerry. The way he had after her eighth birthday party when she’d tried to hide so her father wouldn’t think she was ungrateful, even though he hadn’t understood that she didn’t want a skating party, she’d just wanted to go skating, the way she always had with her mother on her birthday every year.

Martin had understood. He’d always understood. He’d always known what to say, what to do, to make it…maybe not all better, but at least bearable.

After a few moments, she heard him crooning softly and realized it was the song he used to ward off the Lonely. She didn’t know if it was subconscious or intentional, but she clutched him a little tighter all the same. If the Lonely was encroaching…she didn’t want to meet it.

After several long minutes, she took a deep breath and straightened up, pushing away from him. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be silly.” Martin squeezed her hands before letting her go. “Feel better?”

“A little,” Melanie said honestly. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, trying not to get the Velcro stuck in her eyebrows, and looked around. “Where’s Gerry? Hasn’t he caught up to us by now?”

Martin stiffened. “Now that you mention it, no. Christ, where could he have gone? It’s a straight shot.”

“You keep those glasses on your face,” Melanie said firmly. From the slight shift of his shoulders, she knew she’d been right—he’d been thinking about Looking to spot Gerry’s glow. “He can’t be far. Hang on.” She stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled.

There was a surprisingly long pause before an answering whistle came, and in straining to listen for it, Melanie heard shouting. A chill ran up her spine, and she looked up at Martin again. “You don’t think he…”

“He wouldn’t.” The look on Martin’s face clearly said that he not only knew he would, but that he probably had.

Without another word, they began skating back up the path towards where they’d come from. Sure enough, there was a minor commotion, someone on a cell phone gesticulating wildly while someone else knelt on the ground. She could just make out Gerry, barely visible in the gathering gloom, standing off to one side. To his credit, he looked incredibly shaken.

“I didn’t mean to,” he said, as soon as Melanie and Martin were close enough that he noticed them. “I swear, it was an accident, he just bumped into me—”

“Of course this isn’t your fault,” an elderly woman said soothingly, reaching out to pat his arm.

Gerry jerked back, looking panicked, and lost his balance, toppling over backwards. He held out both hands, palms out, when Martin reached for him. “No, don’t, don’t touch me—”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Martin, as he always did, went instantly into caretaker mode, positioning himself between Gerry and the crowd and talking in a low, gentle voice. “Melanie, see if they need help.”

Even though Melanie knew it was useless, she did as Martin instructed, kneeling down next to the hysterical teenager frantically pressing on the prone body’s chest and offering to take over. She kept it up until the paramedics arrived and took control, then went over to join Martin in comforting the teen, who turned out not to know the dead body personally except as someone who regularly turned up to feed the pigeons but felt responsible for not being able to save him.

“It’s not your fault, love,” Melanie said gently, and she carefully didn’t look at Gerry as she said this. It wasn’t his fault either. “You did everything you could. You gave him the best chance you could.”

Twenty minutes later, once the paramedics had received permission to call it and the teen’s friends had led her away, Martin touched Melanie’s arm. “You still want ice cream?”

“Yes,” Melanie said firmly. “You still okay to call the others and have them join us?”

“If you want them. Ger, you ready?”

Gerry nodded. He’d managed to calm down and right himself, and he’d already changed back into his regular shoes, but he still looked miserable and guilty. He took Martin’s hand on one side and Melanie’s on the other, and they made their way out of the park.

Melanie tried not to think about the fact that his fingers, where their bare skin touched, were only barely colder than her own.

#ollie writes fanfic #to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest) #tma fanfic #melanie king #martin blackwood #gerard keay #death tw #grief tw #misuse of Terminus powers

[chim-chim1310]

If hybe wanted to invest in someone they should've at least invested on real talent.

I'm not saying that jungkook isn't talented but honestly has he ever given us a reason by now to think that he's extraordinarily talented. He's basic like any other kpop idol out there. All we had was fandom making this narrative that jungkook is the all rounder and the golden maknae when the real all rounder is jimin.

Jimin is f*cking talented and he always has set standards which the other idols follow. He's the king. Hybe chose the wrong person to invest on.

Honestly till how long will they pay for jungkook to succeed? Are they gonna do that in each and everyone of his comeback? At some point jungkook has to use his own brain and creativity. What will happen when he won't be good enough for that. I mean hybe invested on him but what if when it's actually time for jk to make songs on his own, he won't be able to do shit.

Hybe should have invested on a real talent like jimin which would have given them profit in a long run.

But honestly jimin doesn't need all these things. He didn't had it during face, in fact he was actively sabotaged but he still got that number one.

I mean I'm wondering how jk fans are even feeling proud of this? If I was them I would be so embarrassed of my bias. I'm extremely disappointed in jungkook.

Everyone was like golden maknae, golden maknae but he himself proved that he can't get on jimin's level without payola and all the other shit scooter and hybe are pulling.

If jk actually surpassed jimin without all this fraud then I would've been happy for him. But right now all I can do is laugh and feel the second hand embarrassment.

Doesn't he himself have the conscience to feel that his success is not actually on his hardwork. Well...... What can we do now.

Actually I don't want jimin to have this payola and all these fraud methods for his next album. I just want jimin to be given a fair chance and not be sabotaged by all sides.

And what I really f*cking want right now is a whole ass article and people recognizing and acknowledging the fact that jimin's succes was the real success because it was on his talent. And i want everyone to acknowledge that Jungkook is getting all this success became of fraud.

I just want people to recognize this difference. That's all I want. Then I can rest assured.

Because honestly no one gives a shit that the company is doing fraud for jk. But what's disappointing is that no one except for pjms are holding them accountable. I want the media to release articles mentioning the difference between jimin and Jungkook and how jimin had an organic success while jk's success was fraud.

Just please universe. I want people to recognize jimin's talent and hardwork. Because he deserves to be praised after going through everything and still shining through it all. Like he literally shook the Western Industry. I mean getting #1 when he barely got any radio or company support is a massive achievement. He really threatened everyone. Every kpop stan was against him, hating him in the most vile ways. But jimin still shined through it all and I want that to be acknowledged.

#jimin

[joemuggs]

Albums of 2023 part 2

And so, on from part 1, we continue. This is more dreamy synth-dub that sits perfectly next to the Harrow album: Richard Norris is another artist with an extraordinarily long and illustrious career but who also has never lost the exploratory urge and total delight in sonic finesse.

Honestly Uruguayan-in-Ireland Lila Tirando a Violeta is right up there with the very best of the "deconstructed club" generation - dark, gothic, complex, VERY WEIRD - and this collab with Berliner Sin Maldita is up there with her best. It's really, REALLY intense!

Just impossibly beautiful elegies from ambient harpist Mary Lattimore which builds towards the final track collaboration with Slowdive's Rachel Goswell that is so lovely it will single handedly bring back swooning as a popular pastime.

Officially an EP but there's enough here to cement Nia Archives's place as a heavyweight - add "Off Wiv Ya Headz" and that Jorja Smith remix, and she's had a humdinger of a 2023....

Saw some discourse suggesting that Burna Boy is resting on his laurels here, but I don't hear it. Maybe it's the fact that the cover looks dashed-off? But musically, this bangs: it expertly joins so many dots but keeps his voice and personality right at the heart of it.

I mean come on there was no way a collab between Earl Sweatshirt and The Alchemist was going to be anything but good, right? Just purest essence of deep and dreamy stoner hip hop. Yet another small (27min) but beautifully formed album - definitely a trend there.

Feels kind of (literally) sacrilegious to say I prefer Cleo Sol's more personal, less scriptural records (e.g. Rose in the Dark) - and this is, top to bottom, a gospel album - but the conviction to her performance and the whole realisation of it here is still really magical.

From Coventry via Skopje, man like NOT_MDK's first album in 23 years, and he's zooming into the deep flows that join grime and dubstep into the longer, deeper electronic funk continuum... These tracks are so crisp and crunchy!

She's from Turkey but Ahu's been plugged into the London Plastic People / NTS / etc scene for years - file this with Yazmin Lacey and similar LDN soul-jazz, also it's very Boho and vibesy and incensey, definitely one to light your best candles for.

Can't remember who put me on to this, possibly Radio 3? Anyway if cold wet misty Scottish hillsides are your jam Claire M Singer has you covered - these slower-than-slowly unfolding organ-led pieces practically smell of wet moss, and are extremely beautiful.

He's lent vocals to a who's who of electronic music, but it turns out Paul St Hilaire's own studio craft is the equal of just about any of them - this is just a stunning, ocean-deep album of dub abstraction and subtly potent lyricism.

Icelander Eva Jóhannsdóttir aka EVA808 has already made a name in the dubstep/grime world but this is her really spreading her creative wings. Mad psychedelia, elemental abstraction, movie-theme composition - there's not much she can't do. Big things beckon!

There's still SO much to say about amapiano, and so much incredible UK, SA and wider world stuff last year (this isn't even the only great DJ Maphorisa album - he had THREE out in 2023, including a mini album with Shino Kikai and a 25-track one with fellow originator Kabza De Small!!). Suffice to say this has gorgeous songs, primal grooves, endlessly sophisticated mixdowns and bass that'll take your breath away.

Just gonna link to my review for this one (it's got the music embedded) - but TL;DR Darren J Cunningham aka Actress is the holy prophet of the era of enshittification, yet for all that his music is constantly "off" and made for a world that is "off", he alchemises it into real gold.

Yeah I'm going to be THAT space-jazz hipster and say this is the record I wish Andre3000 (who is on it, and Carlos Niño co-produced his album) had made. It's just a more lavish, free, FUN way to cavort with the five-dimensional fractal machine elves.

Zoning in on the platonic breakbeat mathematics that underly Jersey / B'more club Chicago hip house, UK rave, trip hop etc, Bored Lord could seem arch or retro if her beats weren't so gloriously functional and bumping.

Fed up of generic records? You will never EVER find another one that sounds like IFS MA. Polish abstract slightly Autechre-y footwork / drum'n'bass with Japanese rapper MA sounding like a cyborg beat poet Taliban Trim and I.... 🤯

Every man jack and their dog are doing high bpm retro rave lately but you can trust Meemo Comma to put a fresh and uneasy twist on it. These tracks will get you proper buzzing up loud! I got to DJ for her live performance of this at Spiritland earlier in the year, hearing them on that system was a real treat.

You get a twofer with this one. Phil Kieran's ode to Belfast is gorgeous in studio form here, but he also recorded and released a version with the Ulster Orchestra that single handedly revivifies the idea of electronic music done classical style!

Two true underground troupers teaming up here - Jordan GCZ from Juju & Jordash and David "Move D" Moufang with some otherworldly good-dream ambient, deep house and space-soul jams heavy on the Fender Rhodes, fuzzy reverberation and sensually sweeping portamento.

My musical safe place for so much of this year. Brooklyn "electronic jam band" Purelink somehow burrowed into electronic music history and found the softest, happiest, warmest fur lined chamber and then invited us in. I cannot emphasise enough how LOVELY this record is.

More modular synth grooves from E Ruscha aka Secret Circuits, but no over-indulgence here and the grooves REALLY DO GROOVE. Trippy as a weasel circus and twice as funky.

Talking of trippy, here's Optimo Music's second acid-drenched entry, from the man formerly known as TB Arthur and the mighty Magda trading as Blotter Trax, it's a kind of parallel universe early 80s alt disco where everything gurgles and melts.

More from South Africa - King Mzaiza Sound via the reliably tough Parisian PSSNGR label - not 100% sure what you'd call this though it definitely has some gqom sonics, some trap drums, and some strident rap vocals... It's HARD AS NAILS is what it is.

EVEN HARDER - Nyege Nyege brought us a sampler of this (and I don't use mental health language lightly) FUCKING MENTAL shrieking, raging, solvent-huffing sound from São Paulo stewarded by the young DJ K, and it's extremely funky and scarily thrilling.

OK there we go, part three is here.....

#music #acid house #alt disco #dub #modular synth #psychedelia #South African music #amapiano #gqom #rap #stoner rap #hip hop #odd future #ambient #electronica #Japanese music #polish music #experimental rap #grime #drum'n'bass #footworking #deep house #breakbeat #rave #jungle #soundtrack #belfast #london #space jazz #Icelandic music

[dustedmagazine]

Andrew Forell 2023 End of Year

Robert Forster, photo by Stephen Booth

2023 buzzed by in a whirl of too much work and music. So many records and so many missed. I kept going down rabbit holes of genre and artists, chasing and never quite hauling in all the things I wanted to, or felt I should, listen to. In the end, music being so difficult to rank, here, in alphabetical order are the records I spent most time with a bunch of others I’ve been recommending to anyone who would listen.

The Feelies – Some Kinda Love (Bar/None)

2023 has been a good year for guitar music.  New albums from Teenage Tom Petties, The Reds, Pinks and Purples, The Drin, The Tubs and The Murder Capital have been on high rotation here. So why a 2018 live tribute to a band who broke up in 1973 by a group in their fifth decade? First, these are songs are from The Velvet Underground, and second, simply, The Feelies. Joined by Richard Barone and Joey Maestro from The Bongos, they rip through a set that features the “hits” and some lesser-known songs with affection but not awe. Glenn Mercer and Bill Million’s guitars thrum in the style we are accustomed to, while Stanley Demeski, Dave Weckerman and Brenda Sauter provide rhythmic support which adds a dynamic swing to songs like “There She Goes Again,” “Head Held High” and “I’m Waiting For the Man.”  Some Kinda Love is a pure dopamine hit of great songs played by a brilliant band. Joy and fun in equal measure.

Robert Forster – The Candle and the Flame (Tapete)

On The Candle and the Flame Robert Forster produces some of the most emotionally direct and effecting songs of his career. Recorded in the shadow of his wife, Karen Bäumer’s diagnosis of, and treatment for ovarian cancer, Forster writes with grace about family, friendship, love and the past. The only song written in direct response to the illness “She’s A Fighter” contains only six words but the propulsive tension of the music expresses everything Forster doesn’t attempt to say. It’s an extraordinarily powerful performance, a cathartic blast, and for me, one of the songs of the year. “Tender Years,, “The Roads” and “When I Was A Young Man”  are also up there. As I said in my review “few (songwriters) imbue the quotidian joys of domestic life and the power of memory with such poetry.”

Iceboy Violet – Not a Dream But a Controlled Explosion (Fixed Abode)

On their self-produced album Not a Dream But A Controlled Explosion Iceboy Violet mixes rap, grime and swathes of liminal ambience into an emotionally purgative chronicle of identity, desire and fantasy which flows with a dreamlike intensity. Over deep pulses of sub-bass, taiko influenced percussion and concrete noise, their voice shifts in and out of focus, here a background whisper, there an urgent Northern accented boom. The music, like the vocals, is in constant flux, slipping between hard club beats and eerie ambience. At just 17 minutes, the eight tracks here stay with you for far longer.

The Inward Circles – Before We Lie Down in Darknesse (Stone Corbel Press)

Scottish composer Richard Skelton manipulates a six second fragment of Baroque recorder music taken from the run-out groove of a battered 50-year-old vinyl recording into haunted soundscapes that to tap into something primordial and elemental within layers built like geological strata. This is music to lose yourself in. Obsidian and glacial, Skelton’s work captures and preserves trace elements of melody and rhythm so imperceptible that you feel as much as hear them. Before We Lie Down in Darkness is a beautiful, timeless voyage andhas often eased me from insomniac anxiety to sleep in the last few months.

King Vision Ultra – Shook World (hosted by Algiers)

Using musical stems from Algiers’ Shook, found sound and collaborations with artists including ELUCID, Matana Roberts, DJ Haram, Dis Fig and Bigg Jus, King Vision Ultra’s self-styled mixtape is a companion piece and conversation with its source rather than a remix. A shifting  sound collage that explores and interrogates race, class, gentrification, violence, love and community, Shook World digs into the core of New York City. Recordings of subway announcements, overheard conversations and confrontations lend a bracing realism and more than once Shook World  has merged with the noise and incident of daily trips on the 1 train. A brilliant, often disorientating and abrasive sound portrait of NYC from some of its most interesting musicians.

Kofi Flexxx – Flowers in the Dark (Native Rebel)

Native Rebel founder Shabaka Hutchings has been in the vanguard of the English jazz scene with his bands Sons of Kemet, Shabaka & The Ancestors and The Comet Is Coming and as a cross-genre collaborator with artists on three continents. Posited as a “creative principle” rather than a band, Kofi Flexxx, Hutchings acts as guide and producer. Flowers in the Dark is anchored by pianist Alex Hawkins, flautist Ross Harris and a dynamite rhythm section of bassist Daisy George and drummer Jas Kayser. Backing guest vocalists including rappers billy woods and ELUCID, singers Siyabonga Mthembu from South Africa and Tamil born Ganavye and poet Anthony Joseph on album highlight “By Now (Accused of Magic)”, the quartet provide a fulcrum that draws together the strands of black music into sinuous unity. The instrumental tracks  are equally good. “It Was All a Dream” has the rhythmic power of Sons Of Kemet with Hawkins’ percussive piano and George’s bass bounding along ahead of a wall of horns and Harris flying above them while managing to find a gritty rasp the bottom end of the flute. “Fire” is a bluesy spiritual jazz with George and Harris both prominent. An album that exemplifies Hutchings’ holistic approach to music.

Seablite – Lemon Lights (Mt St Mtn)

San Francisco band Seablite’s second album Lemon Lights delves deeper into their love for 1990s English sounds. The quartet of vocalist/guitarist Lauren Matsui, vocalist/bassist Galine Tumasyan (bass), guitarist Jen Mundy and drummer Andy Pastalaniec channel the lush end of 1990s British indie. Ride guitarist Mark Gardener mastered Lemon Lights and the result is an album of shoegaze adjacent songs which incorporate the jangling sound of Seablite’s Bay Area contemporaries. It’s a deeply satisfying combination elevated by vocal harmonies, serpentine bass lines and Pastalaniec’s driving percussion. Lead single “Melancholy Molly” has the rollicking rhythm of Ride’s “Leave Them All Behind” overlaid with Matsui and Tumasyan’s lush harmonies and the twin guitars sparking from the mix. The sound is dense but melodic, allowing the guitars to chime and shimmer than rather fuzz and the  melancholic edge to tracks like “Pot of Boiling Water” and the dreamy closer “Orbiting My Sleep” make Lemon Lights resonate.

Sinaïve – Répétition (Antimatière)

When Sinaïve released Répétition in April, I had a cursory listen, filed it away and promptly forgot about it for several weeks. My mistake. On second listen, their combination of Gallic cool, psychedelic pyrotechnics, VU drone and the distant echoes of Ye-Ye and the French underground was irresistible. The Strasbourg trio - Calvin Keller on vocals/guitar/keys, Alicia Lovich drums /vocals/organ and bassist Alaoui O - make a wholly satisfying racket. On the 11 plus minutes of “Citadelle/Bis Repetita”, Sinaïve ride Lovich’s robotic rockabilly beat and Alaoui’s throbbing bass though a suite that sounds among other things like “Ghost Rider”, “Sister Ray” and Love at their wiggiest before Keller’s freight train riffs entangle themselves as if on a lock groove. It’s a terrific piece of sonic détournement. “Les Diaboliques” finds Keller crooning over a squalling guitar and molasses bass line before guest singer Raphaëlle Albane enters, an earthbound angel amidst the feedback. Albane appears again on “Cela ne Fait que Commencer” to close the album duetting with Keller over a quiet pulsing beat, organ and strummed guitar.

99Letters – Makafushigi (Disciples)

Osaka producer Takahiro Kinoshita’s Makafushigi (Mystery Tape)is built on samples of the instruments and vocal styles used in Japanese Imperial Court music. As 99Letters, Kinoshita fuses these ancient sounds with modern electronic music in ways that are as malevolent as the demons of mythology and as sinister as the organized crime and ultranationalism in contemporary Japan. The tracks on Makafushigi are washed in a seamy mix of grit and clamor, a grim, grimy world of back alleys, dingy bars and low-tech manufacturing. On discovering this I went on to a deep dive into 99Letters’ back catalogue and emerged when Kinoshita put out his most recent album Zigoku on Phantom Limb in November. He is the artist I’ve been most thrilled to discover this year.

The Others:

Algiers – Shook (Matador

Armand Hammer – We Buy Diabetic Test Strips (Fat Possum)

jaimie branch – Fly or Die Fly or Die Fly or Die ((world war)) (International Anthem)

John Coltrane with Eric Dolphy – Evenings At the Village Gate (Impulse)

Comet Gain – The Misfit Jukebox (Tapete)

The Drin – Today My Friend You Drunk The Venom (Drunken Sailor)

Euglossine – Bug Planet is the Current Timeline (Hausu Mountain)

Asher Gamedze – Turbulence and Pulse (international Anthem)

Gods Gift – Turn All the Lights Out (Play Loud!)

Laurel Halo – Atlas (Awe)

The Reverend Michael Kristen Hayter – SAVED! (Perpetual Flame Ministries)

Irreversible Entanglements – Protect Your Light (Impulse)

Life Strike – Peak Dystopia (Bobo Integral)

Kevin Richard Martin – Black (Intercranial)

OXBOW – Love’s Holiday (Ipecac)

Purelink – Signs (Peak Oil)

Quicksails – Surface (Hausu Mountain)

Rainy Miller x Space Africa – A Grissaille Wedding (Fixed Abode)

Speaker Music – Techxodus (Planet Mu)

Strategy – Graffiti in Space (Constellation Tatsu)

The Tubs – Dead Meat (Trouble In Mind)

billy woods & Kenny Segal – Maps (Backwoodz Studioz)

99Letters – Zigoku (Phantom Limb)

#dusted magazine #yearend 2023 #andrew forell #robert forster #the feelies #iceboy violet #the inward circles #king vision ultra #kofi flexxx #seablite #Sinaïve #99letters

[manysmallhands]

Albums of the Year - The Lower Card

My plan is to do two album posts. The second one, which may or may not go up tomorrow, will be my top 10 albums of 2023 (not really ranked although i'll tell you which is the best one). This one is dedicated to the second tier of my favourite albums. These are the records that i liked a lot this year but which were either straightforwardly not as good as the top ten or slightly compromised in my appreciation of them somehow. A few are albums that I really liked but just haven't been arsed to listen to that much. Others are things that i first heard only recently and would say right now that they're as good as anything in the Top 10, only I haven't known them long enough to commit myself to that. Other reasons are perhaps more idiosyncratic but we'll come to that as we go along.

Baby Queen - Quarter Life Crisis

Arabella Latham - the Baby Queen herself! - skirts a tricky line between knowing and vulnerable on Quarter Life Crisis, sniping waspishly at the modern world one minute before opening herself up enough to leave me in tears. She brings it all off surprisingly well, with her cynical persona always shot through with enough charm to take the weight off of each tonal shift. Musically the album feels reminiscent of Sucker-era Charli, moving between 80s style pop and more modern ideas while occasionally working in a softer, indie-style palette. But its Latham’s vocals which are the star of the record, with her pointed barbs and semi-rapped confessionals by turns funny, relatable and deeply, desperately sad. Kid Genius annoyed me at first with its straightforwardly dumb internet critique but it soon became a highlight, with nods of hypocritical agreement marking every hit on the target. At the other end of the scale is the devastating ballad Obvious, where Latham's pain is shattering enough to cancel out every last knowing wink.

Caroline Polachek - Desire I Want To Turn Into You

Caroline Polachek’s vastly hyped second album is not quite the triumph for me that it is for others, but in all fairness I still liked it a lot. While many of the best songs (Bunny, Billions) were already familiar, euphoric club bangers like Smoke and I Believe proved that there were still some big pop moments left to be mined. The slower material was more subtle in its appeal but repeat listens gave life to tracks like the hymnal Hopedrunk Everasking too. For me the real issue with the album was an occasional excess of politeness, as songs like Fly To You rambled along anonymously to little notable effect. But Desire... is certainly a step on from 2020's lacklustre Pang and contains enough great songs to slot in comfortably alongside the best of Polachek's past guises.

El Michels Affair/Black Thought - Glorious Game

Following on from 2022's excellent Danger Mouse collaboration Cheat Codes, Black Thought took the obvious move this year and found another producer with a strong, idiosyncratic approach. Leon Michels switched things around - sometimes backing the Roots star with a live band, sometimes recording material  to chop up for samples - in the course of creating a 70s soul/funk sound that’s not so much laid back as stoned beyond redemption. In keeping with these more nostalgic elements, the rhymes have gentler vibe here than on Cheat Codes, but Black Thought is still prepared to dig deep, dissecting highly personal memories and stretching into sharp social analysis. Unsurprisingly, his performances are as fiercely on-point as ever on an album that displays all of the rapper's warmth and brusque charm.

Free Love - Insides

Husband and wife duo Free Love’s second album is an extraordinarily eclectic business. Whilst staying within the broad tent of electronic dance music, they journey through wibbling ambient house, acid pop and droning experimentalism, keeping a spirit of adventure about them which sees each bold step as a fairly reasonable response to the last, even as they sometimes seem to come entirely out of the blue. While I can honestly say that Insides is never a dull record, it’s the Virginia Wing style dance pop that sticks in the mind most firmly, with Suzi Cook’s smart Glaswegian patter adding another element of mischief to an already stacked LP. 

PinkPantheress - Heaven Knows

Heaven Knows is not really a great leap forward for PinkPantheress so much as a refinement and consolidation: while some of the rhythms have softened a bit and the tracks grown more accomplished, we’re still very much in the sad girl drum n bass territory that we’ve all come to know and love. But the melodies are as sweet as ever, the emotions perhaps even more sore and relatable and her ability to resonate at a wider level seems increasingly assured throughout. The hit single Boy’s A Liar Pt 2 combines video game style charm with a cracking Ice Spice cameo but it's only one part of the album's greatness, with Mosquito’s gentle happy/sad melancholy and the eerie atmospherics and fierce breaks of Capable of Love being the songs that stuck with me the most.

SZA - SOS

I’ve frequently enjoyed SZA’s sprawling RnB epic throughout the year but I can’t really say that I got to know it that well. It’s too long to me to sit down and listen to in one go, so I’ve tended to wander about with it on the mp3 player as bits of it drifted in and out of my consciousness. What has stuck is, first and foremost, the hits - we all know Kill Bill surely, and Snooze’s just slower than it ought to be vibe is also a highlight - as well as the surprising moments and deep cut highlights, of which the folky Too Late is the absolute queen. But I think what are perhaps my favourite moments are the lines where SZA gives us plainly too much information - “now I’m ovulating and I need raw sex!”, “I don’t get the dick that I deserve”, “I’m horny, like suck these!” - which have made me warm to her on a personal level and appreciate the messy lyrical weight of her talent. So if I’m honest, the reason I come back to SOS is to hear about SZA’s sex life: not in a prurient way - it’s too humdrum to be sexy -  but just because I find how she talks about it extremely funny. Never let it be said that this blog is high-minded.

Tate McRae - Think Later

Despite the brace of fantastic singles that preceded it, my hopes really weren’t that high for Think Later, largely because of how shabby last year’s I Used To Think I Could Fly LP had been. Happily, Tate has shifted up her style and gotten a bit of attitude and, as a consequence, presents herself as a much more interesting figure across an album of far stronger material. Combining her already keen sense of melody with a succession of rattling beats, McRae feels more assured here, turning in a string of bangers full of soaring hooks which rarely fail to hit their mark. Greedy was a massive and well deserved hit but the supremely catchy Exes, the windswept ballad Stay Done or the rumbling, guitar driven We're Not Alike are all equally as good. In truth, the only reason I didn’t elevate this to the top tier is cos it’s only been out for a week or two and I was worried that I might change my mind up (like it’s origami).

The Clientele - I Am Not There Anymore

Much was made of the new directions on The Clientele’s seventh album. Computers were talked about, experimental cut up techniques: it all sounded very fancy in the abstract. And yet if I’m honest, I Am Not There Anymore sounds suspiciously like just another very good Clientele record: maybe a little different but not so you'd find it hard to tell who it was. Fables Of The Silverlink synthesised their classic sound with a glitchy modern approach and there was a dark, rumbling vibe to much of the first half of the LP which definitely felt expansive in its ambitions. But there was still plenty of room for the autumnal elegance of Hey Siobhan and I Dreamed Of You Maria, on a record that sounded enjoyably familiar even within that extended range.

The Mountain Goats - Jenny From Thebes

TMG’s return to the characters from All Hail West Texas may not have recreated its ultra lo-fi sound, but the key attributes of compassion and intensity were still placed front and centre. While perhaps not the most immediate of records, Jenny From Thebes repaid repeat listening, with its compelling storylines, John Darnielle’s deft, intelligent lyrics and, more than anything, his unsinkable ability to carry a song proving over time to be the album’s most important qualities. And stepping away from the bigger picture, Clean Slate, Fresh Tattoo and Same As Cash were powerful standouts which packed a huge emotional punch, songs as good as anything in The Mountain Goats’ long and illustrious catalogue.

U.S. Girls - Bless This Mess

After the relatively scattershot Heavy Light, Meg Remy spent most of Bless This Mess playing with squelchy synthetic funk, sounding for all the world like she’d time travelled back to 1981 and was living it up in an artist’s commune. But despite the close thematic focus, she was still able to vary her approach a little, moving comfortably between pounding disco bangers, warm RnB and gentle psychedelic rock whilst staying well within the sound template that she'd set for herself. So Typically Now’s twitchy paranoid pop and the extended floor filler Tux were instant highlights, but it was songs like the moving Covid ballad Screen Face that increased its emotional depth, drawing out themes of connection and separation while adding some welcome humanity. 

#Baby Queen #Caroline Polachek #El Michels Affair #Black Thought #Free Love #pinkpantheress #SZA #Tate McRae #The Clientele #The Mountain Goats #U.S. Girls #Alt Pop #Hip Hop #Rap #Funk #UK Garage #Indie Rock #RnB #Pop #Best Albums Of 2023 #Best Of 2023 #Best Music Of 2023 #Albums Of 2023

[septembersghost]

hi!! so i’ve been lurking on your blog for a minute and i love how much you love elvis!! it’s super sweet and interesting to me and you’ve inspired me to start learning about him, but i just have no idea where to start. there are like 20,000 albums on spotify 💀 so i was wondering if you could help me out by recommending certain songs/albums you really love/think are essential as a starting point? and i’d love to know if there are any specific books or documentaries you think are really good too. thank you so much!!!

hi!!! anon this is so lovely and kind of you. 🥺 and you're welcome here any time, whether that's to lurk and peruse or to say hello! it's extraordinarily touching that anyone ever looks at my silly posts, or if they can inspire you to listen or learn more in any way (about anything!, but it warms my heart with elvis particularly...he deserves it). i know his discography is staggering and very hard to navigate because of the way it's laid out and the amount of albums/compilations/live recordings/sessions there are.

there's honestly not a wrong place to start, but the obvious is his first self-titled record with RCA in 1956, he's just this young, enthusiastic talent and all pure potential. my beloved is the 1969 album from elvis in memphis, you can hear the passion and invigoration he was feeling creating that music in that time and space. it has a sister album with back in memphis. there are honestly gems across so many records for various reasons, it makes it difficult to narrow down! if starting with compilations/overviews is easier (and sometimes it is!), there's the #1s (this was the first album of his i had, long ago!), the essentials, or if i can dream (which is long but has a lot of great cuts). a bunch of songs will overlap between these because they're the Iconic Tracks, i secretly cherish some of the lesser known music even more, but the famous songs are well-known for a reason! i also really love the compilations they did with the london philharmonic - they added the orchestrations over the original tracks, but the arrangements are so beautiful and full and (to me) highlight his vocals rather than overwhelming them, and i just know he would've loved to perform them in such a lush way. if i can dream (they reused this title, but i cannot blame them. that song is so important, i could wax on about it forever), the wonder of you. if you want a feeling of his live electricity, it has to be the recording of the '68 special, and/or that's the way it is. i have to mention how great thou art, gospel music was particularly dear to him and this album won him his first grammy (his only grammy awards were all in the sacred category). it's interesting too because they split the album into an "a" side, with slower hymns, and a "b" side, with uptempo songs, which is the same concept they utilized on something for everybody, "a" side ballads, "b" sides rock and roll. also i would be remiss not to mention the movie soundtrack (i am linking the deluxe for Reasons!!!), it's not all elvis himself, but the other performances, from austin and from modern day artists, are a really fun experience and speak to the way his music still resonates and can feel really timeless. there's still so much i'm leaving off of this, but i know it's a LOT to sort through.

the '68 comeback special (the file labeled "disc 1" should be the full performance itself, the other two are outtakes/other versions of the session and such!) is a must. there's also a documentary upcoming from producer/director steve binder (who also published a book on the special) in may! the documentary/concert that's the way it is from 1970 is so good and highlights not only his skill as a performer but a lot of his personality, and 1972's elvis on tour is fun too! there's an HBO documentary from 2018 called the searcher that i personally thought was beautifully done and presented. i know there's tons of stuff out there and it's as confusing to parse through as the music, and the books are even harder to navigate. the ones considered the most comprehensive are peter guralnick's the last train to memphis and careless love, they're more scholarly/journalistic than personal. the personal memoirs can all be very tricky and subjective (as other anons and i have discussed recently), though i know a lot of people enjoyed his friend jerry schilling's book me and a guy named elvis (i have read many bits and pieces of it, a bad habit of mine with books recently, but need to read it properly!). elvis: the legend is SO gorgeous and officially released from graceland, so it doesn't delve into the harder struggles or gossipy stuff, it traces his career/music/accomplishments, but that's what i love to learn about and prioritize in many ways. also, on instagram, walking in memphis is a fan page, but she shares really nice stories and photographs that delve into his humanity and character (there are many fan accounts, and good ones!, but hers might be my favorite that i've found). if anyone else has recommendations they'd like to add to this, please do!!!

i don't know if this helps, there are likely better people to ask than me and i'm honored you'd trust me to try. 😭 i hope it does give you a beginning, if you want any more information/clarification, please feel free to come back! this brightened my day (well, night! so you are a star!), thank you again for being so sweet and sending this to me. 💖💖💖

edit: elvis is back!, from the comments <3

also this is how i feel every time anyone asks me about him:

#i shouldn't publish this at 12:30 am but i am going to anyway #anon you are so <3 <3 <3 #anonymous #letterbox #elvis presley #i was a dreamer #me: this is a fairly decent overview i think? #also me: none of these albums include never been to spain which invalidates the entire endeavor! #apologies to aus specifically since that's his jam

[mywifeleftme]

169: The Flatlanders // The Odessa Tapes

The Odessa Tapes The Flatlanders 2012, New West

A Cliff’s/Cole’s/Spark’s Notes on the Flatlanders: Texan trio of songwriter’s songwriters (Jimmie Dale Gilmore, Butch Hancock, and a nascent Joe Ely) form combo, head to Nashville to record impossibly sublime album (All American Music) in November 1972 that is (barely) released on 8-track cassette after would-be single “Dallas” flops. The album is forgotten, the band splits, its three core members build respectable careers. As the Americana scene they’d somewhat presaged takes shape, the Nashville recordings are sporadically re-released (most notably on Rounder’s More a Legend Than a Band) and the Flatlanders retrospectively find themselves one of the most critically celebrated country acts of their era.

The Odessa Tapes are an even more forgotten batch of recordings than those Nashville sessions, cut in January of the same year as a demo for Plantation Records. The tapes were rediscovered in the 2000s and released by New West in 2012 and, despite the years of neglect, they sound astonishing—to the point you could make a case that they represent the band’s definitive statement. The material is largely the same as that found on the later sessions, though four songs appear here for the first time (“Number Sixteen,” “Shadow of the Moon,” “I Think Too Much of You,” “Story of You,” all superb). These renditions have a honeyed warmth unto themselves, like the feeling in your muscles when you sink into a good chair. All American Music was marketed as Jimmy Dale Gilmore & The Flatlanders, and to my ear at least it’s mixed and arranged to subtly emphasize him as ‘the star.’ Here, their trademark harmonies sound closer and more balanced, the pace a tad mellower, the guitars absent the Nashville sessions’ very slight commercial sheen. Reasonable people can differ as to whether All American Music’s accoutrements (e.g. Steve Wesson’s musical saw) add welcome variety to these simple, elegant songs, which admittedly are all pretty similar in structure, but you can’t go wrong with either set.

Speaking of structure, it occurs to me I’ve structured this review badly, gotten a little deep into the minutiae of comparing versions of songs there’s a good chance you’ve never heard before. So, let’s say this of the Flatlanders: they harkened back to pre-1950s country and bluegrass, had those singers been raised Buddhist rather than Baptist. In place of Christian melodrama (sin, shame, redemption), their songs have a wry philosophical resignation, gazing through the big Texas Panhandle sky over the fence line at the turning wheel of dharma. With the exception of the full-on spiritualism of “Bhagavan Decreed” (an extraordinarily poetic set of lyrics by Austin musician Ed Vizard), they don’t front with the cosmic stuff: it’s on your tenth or hundredth listen to these sentimental, homespun songs of steadfastness and fidelity that lines like “the universal law needs no revision” and “this world’s just not real to me” and “I guess I should be flyin’ ‘cause it’s killin’ me to run” start clicking together.

I’m sure I have a hundred top ten albums at this point. But if one of those sickos with a desert island / turntable situation put a cruise missile to my head, it’d be hard to imagine going a lifetime without hearing the Flatlanders again. And if I had to pick just one of theirs, it’d be The Odessa Tapes.

169/365

#the flatlanders #joe ely #butch hancock #jimmy dale gilmore #progressive country #'70s music #'70s country #rounder records #new west records #archival music #music review #vinyl record #austin texas #texas music #odessa texas