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boingfessions · 9 days

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HAPPY OINGO BOINGO DAY EVERYNYAN!!!

I hope everyone has a great time today! Surely more than one person asked themselves a question: What the HELL is Oingo Boingo? Well, the name itself is complete absurdity! But what makes Oingo Boingo Oingo Boingo? Find out in this post under cut!

Our beloved crazy ginger man! Daniel Robert Elfman is an American film composer, singer, songwriter, and musician. Delusional, orange af, joker-like, face with a combination of slasher smile and Kubrick stare, perhaps even had prolonged non-fatal rabies in his time in Oingo Boingo that was only recently cured when the band broke, but unfortunately (or not) returned in recent years. Now his entire body is covered in tattoos and his hair is straight now because of dyeing it to hide his gray hair, ergo his old age. The truth is that he is actually a skeleton disguised as Danny Elfman to pass himself off as living human so that the Grim Reaper don't come after him, but SHHHH!!! I did not tell you anything!

Danny Elfman (lead vocals, rhythm guitar)

Steve Bartek (lead guitar, rhythm vocals)

Fluffy tall boy <3. Steve Bartek is an American guitarist, film composer, conductor, and orchestrator. Elfman's right-hand man and the one he trusts with his skeletons in his closet, oh and his film compositions too of course! One of the few members of the band who was not consumed by it and therefore did not become a feral creature in the process. He plays little guitars because he's a big man, y'know! He usually wore ridiculously short ties along with baggy t-shirts. His guitar solos drove Danny so crazy that he was spinning around and caused him to have back pain to this day, so you know how to blame. Nowadays unfortunately his beautiful dark curls have become gray, but luckily he now looks like an adorable grandpa now! (just like the others)

Kerry Hatch (bass guitar, backing vocals)

A marvelous human being! Kerry Hatch is an American musician... and that's it. Walking diva and Zoolander wannabe, this lad was the band's bassist until 1984, when he decided to join the band "Zuma II" (what the HELL is that band? I have no idea!). A pretty lad who likes to be handsome and play bass guitars that don't even look like bass guitars, I don't know what else I could say about him! Maybe he thought the band wasn't good enough for him and decided to leave to pursue something better, but that's just a guess... if you can consider a landscaping business better!

Richard "Ribbs" Gibbs (keyboards, backing vocals)

Mister mistery~ Richard Gibbs is an American film composer and music producer. Like Kerry, he left the band in 1984 to join Zuma II, and to be honest I don't know what what that band had to make not one but TWO members of Oingo Boingo (the best band in the entire galaxy and even the sixth dimension) have left to be in that band. Anywho, all I have to say about him is that he did well in life, being a composer like Danny and that's it.

Johnny "Vatos" Hernández (drums, percussion)

THIS IS JOHNNY VATOS FROM OINGO BOINGO MAN!!!! He is a drummer with crazy hairstyles who likes to dum ba dum through life. Almost as crazy as Danny was, he stayed loyal to the band even after they broke up (yes, he was in another band called Food for Feet, but I don't give a DAMN!) Years after the band broke up he managed to reunite about four former members and form "Oingo Boingo Former Members", made up of him, Steve Bartek, John Avila, Carl Graves and Sam "Sluggo" Phipps, in addition to new members. Idk about you, but I would like to have him as my grandpa!

Sam "Sluggo" Phipps (saxophone, backing vocals)

Leon Schneiderman (saxophone, backing vocals)

Slam Bam "Sluggo" Phipps is an American saxophone player known for his signature bright, expressive smiles, where he shows off all his teeth and can light up an entire room. The tallest guy in the band and the one who likes to show off his instrument the most, rising it high in the air when attention is focused on him. Well, maybe not so much, but you understand what I mean! Maybe he can be too expressive and noisy, but we still love him ❤️

Dale Turner (trumpet, backing vocals)

Do you remember when I said that Sluggo had the brightest smile in the world? Well, I lied! That one goes to our dear Leon Schneiderman, the other saxophonist in the band. He could do anything in the whole world, even his own instruments! Being a childhood friend of Danny's, it can be said that he has been in the band every moment since it started, even longer than Danny himself! Don't you love him and his smiles?

John Avila (bass guitar, backing vocals)

Our beloved grandpa-mom. He is an American trumpet player who entered The Mystic Knights after they let him audition after seeing him practice in secret. He makes sure to keep an eye on the other guys in the band and can (if he hasn't already) spank them to make them behave (except for Sluggo; NOBODY spanks Sluggo). Even if he is the shortest member of the band along with John Avila, that doesn't make him any less authoritative, being around ten years older than the rest of the band. He is silent like a mouse and has never been heard to speak, perhaps because he is reserved or has nothing to say. He left the band and is currently enjoying his life privately, and I really hope he's okay!

HE IS MY BABY, MY CUTIE PIE, MY PUPPY, MY LOVE, MY LIFE, THE BEST BOY IN THE WHOLE WORLD!!!!!!!!! RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

Ahem, sorry about that... John Avila is an American bassist and music producer. A literal human puppy and the shortest member of the band. He looks like you could pick him up in your arms and cradle him like a baby... Sorry, I'm off topic again! What do you want me to do? He's simply adorable! (At least for me). Anywho, Although he appears in the Gratitude MV, it was not until 6 months after the release of the album So-Lo that he joined the band along with Michael Bacich, being the new bassist and keyboardist respectively. He is usually hyperactive and you can see him at concerts jumping, spinning and playing his bass like a pro. The strange thing is that, even though the years go by and he obviously ages, he still seems to be the same mischievous and playful puppy-like guy... Okay, sorry again!

Michael Bacich (keyboards, backing vocals)

Quiet nerdy boy. He's was the keyboardist of the band since 1985 until 1988. Yes, he didn't stay for a long time, but his presence in the band is still important as he was present in the band's best era (Dead Man's Party). He looks like the typical nerd who would say "actually☝️🤓" and give you information that you didn't even ask for but still decided to give you to expand your zero knowledge. He also looks kinda shy and like someone who Danny would bully if the band were in a cliché teen movie. Like Dale, he decided to move on with his life after leaving the band, which it's okay after all.

I ran out of space for more images! Don't worry, I'll reblog this post right away talking about the rest of the band (which are only two members but still!). Thank you very much for reading this far and HAPPY BOINGO DAY TO ALL OF YOU AGAIN!!!

#oingo boingo #not a confession #danny elfman #steve bartek #kerry hatch #richard gibbs #johnny vatos #sam phipps #sam sluggo phipps #leon schneiderman #dale turner #john avila #michael bacich #carl graves #warren fitzgerald

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amyyythestarry · 3 months

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TOILET BAND HANAKO KUN!

——

CHAPTER 1: Band.

——

“… Have you heard?” She spoke softly into the microphone as soon as it was turned on along with the radio.

“There is a rule regarding that staircase that you must never break.”

Slow, rhythmic melodies played when he strummed the strings of his ginger orange guitar with a guitar pick, decorated with random cat stickers, put on by another male, that just wouldn’t come off. He left them there until he was able to find a way to get them off of his precious instrument.

“You must never step foot on the fourth step. Why? Because… You will be taken to the other side.”

“Taken, to the otherrrr side~” Sung another person, standing right beside the green haired girl, holding another microphone. Violet and mauve, covered in various stickers and paint splatters on the bottom. His voice was smooth and calm, despite the words being deep.

Then drums started, still soft and faint, the person with the sticks trying to bang as light as possible to match the tone of the start of the song. Guitar still strumming, and now a keyboard is being used.

“Down, down belowww. To the darkest, deepest, path you’ll gooo.” He continued, eyes closed and head swaying with the flow.

“Limb, from dangling limb. They’ll pull you apart, down to countless pieces.”

The drumming tempo started picking up, so did the guitar, and now the drummer and guitarist were playing more fast and furious, creating a new rough and exciting rhythm.

“Now you’ve ruined the stairs.” The girl sang.

“It’s painted with crimson blood.” He continued. “Yasuraka ni o yasumi kudasai~”

“In piecesss~”

Now the instruments were louder than before. The drums are still banging with the occasional cymbals. The bass guitar’s volume was turned up, not enough to cover the singer's voice, because it was still so quiet. And the keyboards settled with matching the singer’s vocals, it wasn’t a noisy instrument anyways, especially since the player wasn’t an aggressive typist.

They continued playing like this.

Nobody expected the short, black haired, brown skinned boy, the one who was the most childish and reckless out of them all, to actually be a good singer. Because as they kept playing, kept up with the song, and the lyrics of the boy flowed throughout the room like lovely wind, they all figured this was the best outcome for them.

The boy did add unnecessary additions to the song that weren’t there before, but heck, it was still bada**.

As they got closer to the end of the song, the drummer decided to close their eyes as did the guitarist, the typist, and the lead singer. Wanting to just feel the atmosphere of the room, the melody of their instruments and his vocals clashing together in the best way.

The song was closer to ending. The guitar slowed down again after its solo, going with the rhythm it had when they first started playing. The singer's voice was higher.

“Taken to the other siiiide, to the bottom of the underworld, the top of the stairs will take you.” The green-ette sang, voice being in the background of the main singer.

“Have you heard? Number 2?”

The singer stopped singing, and the instruments had to keep going.

The drums continued to bang, harder and louder than throughout the whole song, now that it had the spotlight. Alongside the guitar, as it became more distorted on purpose.

But as the song was now about to end, and the drummer banged on the bass, planning to end it off with a ding from the hi-hats. The time was right, and the drummer hit two of the hi-hats with each cherry wooden stick, and the sound along with the dings of the cymbals was the sound of crunchy snapping.

The song finally ended. The guitarist and typist stopped playing, because of the ending of their strain, and cause of the sound they hear almost all the time while practicing. As well as a voice grumbling from the back of the room.

“D**nit! I broke them again!”

Everyone in the room turned to the drummer, looked at him, and then at the two broken parts of the drumsticks rolling on the floor on each side of the drum set.

Mitsuba Sousuke sighed, dropping the remains of the sticks onto the floor by his feet, and rubbed his face with both hands from embarrassment and frustration.

“… Jesus, Mitsuba-chan. This is like, the fifth time..” The guitarist sweatdropped.

“Oh shut up, airhead.” Mitsuba pulled his head up from his hands and rolled his pink eyes, the left one being hidden by his curly hair.

Hyuuga Natsuhiko put his hands up when Mitsuba glared at him, and the lead singer of the group spoke up.

“Mitsubaa, you need to stop breaking the sticks!”

“It’s not my fault!” He claimed, dropping his head down and looking into his lap when being faced with amber eyes.

Yugi Tsukasa walked over to the broken pieces of dark cherry wood, picking them up and inspecting the jagged edges of the sticks.

When looking up slightly, Mitsuba expects Tsukasa to be looking at him with downcasted eyebrows, shaking his head and tutting. But instead, he sees the smaller boy smiling down at the sticks in his hand.

“Y’know, maybe we don’t have to throw these away again? We could probably try fixing them!” He suggested, looking up at Mitsuba and giving him his usual wide toothed grin, the one Mitsuba couldn’t help but secretly admire.

The pink haired boy stilled, then slowly nodded while a small shy smile plastered on his face, along with the hotness of his cheeks coming to be.

“Um.. Yeah, maybe we could..?”

“And if that doesn’t work,” Tsukasa started again, pulling out his phone and starting to type. “I’m sure you could use broken wood for something else, right? Like, using them for some type of art pieces?”

Everyone internally questioned what kind of art piece the boy could possibly make with broken drumsticks, but they didn’t further think about that. Tsukasa could make something out of anything.

While Tsukasa was still on his phone, the green haired girl sighed.

“Well… I’m sure the song went well,” Nanamine Sakura said, pushing curly strands of hair out her face. “We’ll check it when we get back to the Broadcasting room.”

Currently, the band of pre-teens and second year teenagers are in a closed, deserted garage in the middle of nowhere where non-human beings are stranded. Nobody was in the area but them, though. So they found it a perfect place to try and finish their first song, named ‘Misaki Stairs’ in their fresh album ‘Rumor’. Since the club room they use to brainstorm and hang out in was too small for a whole band set up.

They decided they would use this garage for playing, and their club room for producing their music.

The band members agreed, and collected their belongings, getting ready to head out of the room.

Tsukasa walked over to a corner of the garage and picked up a long furry black thing, cooing at it saying, “Did you have a good nap?” The thing responded by purring into his arms.

“What is that?” Natsuhiko asked him, looking at him over his shoulder while he zipped his guitar shut in it’s black case.

Tsukasa turned to him, revealing an animal. His pet, that they didn’t even realize was here in the first place. The same pet Tsukasa let around them all the time.

Miyu, the strange cat Tsukasa always carried in his backpack, and somehow always appeared around them no matter where they were, opened its eyes to look at the confused looking band members she knew were Tsukasa’s friends. She quickly snapped her eyes at Sakura, and jumped out of her owner's arms. Walking over to Sakura and meowing at her, close by her left foot.

The black and white cat watched Sakura’s face contort into a deadpan.

“Tsukasa, why.. Is your cat in here?” She asked the boy who was gathering his backpack and putting both his and Sakura’s microphones in their respective cases.

“Oh! Because she wanted to listen to our first official song!”

They looked back down at the cat, who was bobbing its head like it was agreeing. Sakura shook the topic off, and started walking towards the button that opened the garage door.

When it opened all the way they all walked out of the garage, being faced with a scenery of mixed colors in the empty sky that belonged to the Far Shore, the realm of all supernaturals and non-human beings.

Mitsuba instantly pulled out his camera being hung around his neck, and snapped a picture of the sky above. He didn’t usually take pictures of pretty things like this, they couldn’t come close to the pretty-ness that was himself, but it was more odd than the sky of the realm of humans, and odd things deserved a snapshot.

There were also other weird things in the Far Shore too. And besides, Tsukasa was staring at it like the beautiful, strange thing it was, and he never planned on keeping the picture. As soon as it came out, and he shook it to get rid of the black, the picture showed the perfect shot and he gave it to Tsukasa.

Right inside Tsukasa's open right palm appeared a floating, misty black thing, with a small blue swirly dot in the middle. In an instant, the same black smoke clouded their vision and engulfed them with the intent of taking them somewhere else faster.

Natsuhiko spoke up, not seeing the person he wanted to speak to because of all the mist.

“Tsukasa, you also have to help me get these stickers off my guitar and case y’know! And stop tampering with them!”

He heard a giggle from the boy he was talking to.

“I’ll try!”

Once their sight became clear again, they all were in another place, and a place they knew well. The Broadcasting club, taking place in the school they all attended.

And once they settled in, they got to work. Checking over their song, edited it, and once it was deemed perfect, contacted their album cover producer and started on releasing it to their oblivious human and random supernatural audiences.

Now this was the start of The Broadcasters.

——

NEW AU ONESHOT!

Next chapter is: Band. ( 2 )

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heaveaux · 2 years

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Maybe some pro rev era Gerard x m reader.

Like the readers in one of the other bands playing. Or you can just use your imagination. 😄

I’m actually not very good with eras and I’m not sure what you meant by pro rev era so I searched it up and all I found were pictures like this ^ so I’m hoping this is good :) if it isn’t and you wanted something more specific you can request again and I’ll try my best ^^ also tysm for the request :DD also sorry I made up names for the rest of the band myself I just didn’t know what else to put. The band you’re in in this is a punk rock kinda band and there’s a lot of screaming and stuff but yk that’s hot. Edit- ALSO I APOLOGISE FOR HOW SHORT THIS IS THIS IS HORRIBLE IM JUST SCARED OF IT DELETING ITSELF-

Pro rev era Gerard x male reader

pronouns- he/him

summary- y/n is on tour with my chemical romance, he’s in b/n (band name) as the bassist and singer. He messes up whilst playing one of their songs and runs off stage into a random room. Gerard finds him in a room that my chemical romance go in or something and tells him it’s okay and he borrows Mikey’s bass.

warnings- crying, a panic attack,

You walked onto the stage confidently, putting on your bass guitar. The rest of the band followed after.

‘Hi, we’re b/n, this is our first big tour’ the crowd cheered ‘this is our lead guitarist, Kyo (pronounced kye-oh. Male any pronouns), our rhythm guitarist, Lux (nonbinary they/them) , and our drummer, David (male he/they)’ They all waved after their name was said.

‘And finally, I’m y/n, the bassist and vocalist’ you winked at the crowd ‘This is our song, susurrus woods!’ (Yes I made that up myself and yes susurrus is a word, it means something like a rustling or whispering sound, so whispering or rustling woods basically). You began the song and the crowd went wild. None of you messed up at all, you and Lux were crazy on stage kind of like Gerard and Frank but you were just more violent, and so was your music, no one got hurt fortunately, you just acted very aggressive although usually being a quite introverted and quite in public. You felt like you could be free when you performed, it was amazing.

time skip to your last song-

‘This is our second to last song! “Focus on the heartthrob not the reject!”’ (I also made that one up you’re welcome also this is less screaming, it’s a bit like 1985 by bowling for soup) You began singing ‘Everyone loves him! Everyone loves him!’ You jumped around the stage trying to get the crowd to join in and it was working. ‘Why date an introvert when there’s the rich kid? He has everything from a bass guitar to a lambo-’ suddenly one of your strings broke and your guitar made an unusual noise, you looked down and took off the guitar, throwing it on the ground and running backstage. Your band continued playing and you found an empty place to sit and cry into your knees. Someone in all black walked over to you, he had pale makeup on and greasy, shoulder length black hair. ‘Hey are you okay?’ You noticed it was Gerard from the band you were on tour with, my chemical romance, he came over to you and sat by your side. ‘What happened?’

‘My bass guitar broke…’ you looked up at him and he put his arm around your shoulders.

‘My brother has a spare one you can use, I’ll ask him’ as if by magic, Mikey cant running into the room after Gerard. ‘Hey Mikes, can he borrow your spare bass guitar?’ ‘Uh yeah sure’

‘Your name was Y/n right?’ Gerard got up and held my hand to pull me up. You wiped your nose with your already dirty sleeve and nodded. ‘Y/n L/n’

‘I heard your music, it was really good, I liked susurrus woods. Now go play’ He smiled at you and handed you the bass which Mikey had just brought in. You and Gerard ran to backstage and you waved goodbye, walking on to play. ‘I’m sorry I left guys, now we can play our final song, “our time is up”’ you shouted, beginning the final song.

skip to after-

‘You were amazing y/n!’ Gerard hugged you and kissed your cheek. ‘I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date with me before the tour ends? And can I have your number if that’s alright…’

You smiled and blushed ‘of course’

‘Ooooooo someones got a little crush~’ Frank walked in between you two.

you both looked at each other and smiled.

I HOPE THIS WASN'T COMPLETE SHIT BECAUSE I THINK I DID HORRIBLE FOLLOWING THE REQUEST IN THIS IM SO SORRY, ILL WRITE YOU ANOTHER OF YOUR REQUESTS TO APOLOGISE JUST TELL ME WHEN YOU REQUEST THAT YOU'RE THE ONE WHO REQUESTED THIS SOMEHOW SO I CAN TRY AND DO BETTER FOR YOU <33333

ALSO TY GUYS FOR REQUESTING, KEEP REQUESTING PLEASE I LOVE ALL OF YOUR REQUESTS 💓💗

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actingdeep · 1 year

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Individuals [In Progress]

Pools are collecting round. Emptiness filling slowly the basin of the day so far while Hector stands in the light evening rain and smokes a cigarette; micro-dots of wet leopard-skinning the shaft of it, and the crackling end flickering from bouncing drips. Only cars and a low humming from the muffled electric sounds from upstairs make a stir beyond the winds against him. Upstairs, a rock and roll band is scheduled to practice at six; now minutes away. Hector is not in the band; but is simply here to try and feel out his mood for the hour. A door opens, and the music heightens; but only for a moment, as the dripping drains down into evening. The upperlevel of his old singer friend Scott's pad could be reached only through what felt like a cardboard tube: a narrow set of stairs within two white walls that seemed to be having a permanent staring contest. Impassively, Hector entered the tight bay of foot-long and toe-wide steps, reaching a door cut off from the middle up, like one you might see in your great grandmother's kitchen before you pass through it to watch her bake you cookies in tablecloth apron on copper linoleum covered in mushroom-like patterns; the rudiments of the practice exciting. He opened the heavy door to the practice room, band tuning. The full stack two feet from his right ear was Scott's. Connected to his band's rhythm guitar was a Sunn amplifier: the growling, unmatched demi-god of all guitar amplifiers. Hector's ears would be hearing faint, reverberating pitches for the rest of the night until he slept because of this (to satisfaction). Playing behind Scott was Wes, the lead guitarist, adorned in an aqua Fender strat; followed to his left by bearded bassist Chaz and drummer Eli; over to Hector, blocking the door and sitting on a mini inner-tube he had found; back round to standing Scott, with a campfire of rugs and cases and pedalboards in center. Song one, titled "Over" (in C) began. Four hits from Eli first, then all at once: the melodic, airy, pulverizing, biotic chugging commences; the vocals roaring, yet almost inaudible completely. Their sound one could describe as ironically disheveled sonic organization-- cathartic anarchy; maybe the catchy side of grunge with a predilection for melody, quickness, and keen on the mastery of the outro. A few songs in, with only quick seconds between each one--this one now a bit slower and heavier than those previous--filled the hot air; then, a sprightly will-be crowd pleaser: a cover of The Misfits' "Hybrid Moments." The lights were flickering now: Hector not realizing this, being caught in the bright madness of head-bobbings, bass bendings, stompings of homemade pedals, scattering like rats scribbled with blue Sharpie, heavy crushings of gum in teeth, disconcerted bookshelves, cables and cymbals, microphone stands;--the forever distorted, laconic pool of aptitude. Him and Scott having been more or less stoned since four--Soon, an unexpected wave of warming calm fell upon Hector (the band not noticing; being caught up deep in the zone of wire and thunder). Hector looked up, and his ears came back for a moment. The band was mid-outro to a very Bon Scott-y cover of "T.N.T." The song came and went like the pop of bubble gum. A hop of light feedback; then the jacks clicked. Smoke break was happening now. Porch for smokers, attic for pot-smokers. The sticks dropped and stretching, the musician Eli smiled cooly and descended the cardboard tube to the rain and pools collecting out the other end, Wes following. Having just recently smoked his own leopard skin, Hector went this time with Scott, the noble pot-smoking general of the club, who had a leftover half-blunt that the two were burning a few hours before. The attic was like a large, wooden tent, and silent. It had a mild smell of laundry detergent (likely Snuggle, from what Hector could surmise). They slouched and settled into the run-down linty couches. Lighting up, old Scotty and Hector--friends since this particular band's formation (and Scott's others from long before)-- shared the moment quietly together; passing the halfer blunt in reactionary silence, comfortable in their own worlds. Back in the practice room only the bassist Chaz remained; sitting Indian style to practice a song he was a week behind on. The singer-songwriter Scotty had layed out the notes for him when Chaz politely and halfheartledly apologized for his slack; for he was at the Fountain of Wayne show in Logansport, which, according to him, was "actually, pretty okay," which he quietly and happily came to notice, as the other musicians had exited, plucking watchfully.

Sigmund was a grateful man when outside moments of pain. Sigmund lives alone. When he walks down the hall and hears the soft creak from the wood floor, he becomes irritated; because if he didn’t exist, there wouldn’t be a sound. He is polite in company. When asked a question about himself, he grows weary and unfocused. Sigmund would arrive at home and turn the doorknob slowly to be as quiet as possible. He lives alone. He would walk gently in hopes of not hearing a toe knuckle crack or a pant leg brush. He angers himself deeply with his loathsome, superfluous racket. He dreads cooking because of the sound the silverware drawer makes when he pulls it open. He detests the clatter of plates if he’s the one causing the noise. Plus, all the water droplets the faucet will make. Sigmund cares about the impression he makes on others. He doesn't know why. He wants to seem cool--unfazed by anything that could possibly happen or be said. He hates himself for that. One evening, he was sitting up in bed as still as he could so he wouldn’t make the springs squeak and asked himself why he loathed himself so. He decided that he was simultaneously in awe and terribly frightened of life. He was a great bother to himself. Sigmund wants everyone to love him. Despite everything, Sigmund sees mountains of insight. Unfortunately, this insight is unintelligible. He doesn’t know how to articulate his important thoughts--and even if he could, he can't think of a good reason why he ought to. He knows what he feels inside is true insight--pure and fragile--but can never put it into words on the rare moments he tries. Sigmund longs to be advantageous. To him, advantageousness is a perfect blend of bravery and audacity, the ingredients of a hero. “What a thing to be,” he thinks at times. “Nothing could be better than to be advantageous.” Sigmund knows that he is vain and morally indecisive. He’s a perfect gentleman, until he finds himself in the mirror. Then, he becomes a beast: a frothing caricature, a ripe mask dangling in the glass. The crooked smile he perceives, the wasteland of emotional potential, the vibrant fragment of something meant for much more: frighten him.

III

Conversations with Marcus are a disheartening balance: precious, his words--pouring out like a bag of gold, but all the while making your own worth less than the dust of an afterthought. His peculiar framework of indisputable confidence alone could generate, in others, a sense of pure prestige emanating from him; and--extraordinarily--could seemingly deactivate any and all around him with half-open ears from their personal judgements and perceptions and pull them away effortlessly like nature's most insidious vines of and into his own. This is what Marcus craved most: humbling others to the point of sickening, making their individuality shrink like a vampire in light as it nervously crosses between the shadows. His voice was the light. He takes aim at personal fortitude and laughs aloud beside all your enemies while still coming off as rather friendly—even encouraging. Life to Marcus is a test in which the answers that aren't etched into a pristine and preeminent brain, or written upon the flesh and hidden under the sleeve are the ones not worth getting correct. To Marcus, diligence, compassion and honesty are wastes of time: uninstinctive flourishes only superfluous members of humankind (of middling cleverness) should implement out of pure weakness. Marcus could take hold of any fancy, opinion or musing you could put forward and decide undoubtedly whether it held credence for not just now, and not just for one person, or a few--but for all beings, across all of time itself--simply, and totally. No person that knew Marcus would likely find a man with a higher regard for courtesy and politeness in his assertions; but when faced with rival assertions, he would mock them with wit, irony, sarcasm and laughter. Sometimes, when his nose ran, Marcus would blow it into an old T-shirt that was laying on the floor.

Ernest is at peace. The people around him are anxious, and are usually away for a long time because they are busy making money. After they have made money, they spend it so they may no longer be so anxious. Ernest feels pain because he feels their pain, and can only appease the pain by directing all of his energy into loving contemplation for their souls. As a young man, Ernest would go around from person to person, asking how they were feeling, and if anybody were honest enough to say "not so great," he would offer them advice, and became widely known as the best man to go to for advice. As he grew older, Ernest stopped giving advice because of all the same people continued to feel not so great. He laughed to himself over his harmless follies. Where others crave, Ernest is satisfied. Where others loop around the edge of a circle, Ernest floats inside a sphere. Where others study upon statistics, Ernest simmers in the mysterious. When Ernest is at peace, the people around him forget completely that he is even there. They will walk by him in crossing into a different room, spot him, and say, "Oh, hello! I forgot you were here!" This would make them laugh, and Ernest would smile because they laughed. Sometimes, he is at peace for so long, he begins to feel rather spoiled, and will willfully exit his trance and seek material pleasure. In doing this, he sets to purposefully bring upon him sadness, or anguish, or even despair, so that when it is time to step back into the trance, it becomes all the more beautiful. Ernest knows this trap he has placed himself in well; yet is still weary of leaving it. The day Ernest stopped giving advice was on a day when he had asked a person how they were feeling, and they said "Really great!", and he could tell from their voice and eyes that they meant it. At first, he smiled and moved on; later on, however, he relized that he had actually hoped she would have said "not so great." After this realization, he shuddered and became quite weary, but did not understand. Years later, he understood.

As long as he could remember, Joseph was afraid to feel pride. In all pursuits, he would carry the deep fear--not of failing--but of becoming the greatest. His soul would tell him that he was indescribably exceptional; and that he could easily conquer over any man. "Nothing," he would think, "could possibly come close to the tortures." "No ruler with true authenticity wishes to rule. This life is burdensome, and conciousness has always flown with dubious discretion. Life fools it's own sheep, making them unite in a bliss, seemingly so real. The left has life it's leaders; whereupon the vast majority of it's true weight can reliably fixate itself, with no fear of collapse. Such a distribution," thought Joseph, as he walked, reflecting, "should appear impossible, unsustainable. Yet upon thought, becomes so infinite, resolute." "Man can neither be confident, nor insecure," Joseph thought, "but be either resolved, or vulnerable." He crossed a river. To Joseph, breaking the code of life, and answering the biggest question man has ever asked himself in his most quiet moments of reflection was to be his own burden, his blessing; all else seemed so trivial. "What is left, but to search?" said Joseph, before seating himself on a sunny patch of grass beyond the river, looking East.

"Would you mind if I sat here for a little bit?" "Free country." He pulls out the chair to the right of the cute girl and sits. When the bartender asks what he can get him, he orders a moscato. "But could I please have it in a regular rocks glass with ice? I have bad luck with stemmed glasses." "I can do that." He sits upright, and is looking forward with a calm smile, joining his hands and resting his arms on the bar. The girl glances at him from the side. Her legs are crossed and she's also very upright. There's a purse on the floor near her feet. Once he has his drink and has paid, he takes a couple sips and remains still just as before and calmly and pleasantly looks ahead. "Muh-ska-toe," she says, scratching away polish from a fingernail with another nail. "Indeed." "Never had one." "One of my go-tos." "So why no stemmed glass?" The bar is dim, except because of the afternoon sunlight coming in; and mostly empty. It's not quite five-o-clock. A car outside honks. He takes a gulp of the moscato, asks what she's having, which happens to be a vodka tonic. "With extra, extra lime." "So I see." "Lime all the time." "I like your lime rhyme." She laughs. "I use it all the time." "Will it cost a dime?" "That would be a crime." The front door opens behind them with a loud clash and ringing of bells, and less than a second after, a booming masculine voice was calling: "Cass-ie! Let's fuckin' go," and then the door shutting again with another clash. "That's me," she says, after a little nervous start, looking over her shoulder and reaching for her purse. She smooths her clothes as she stands up, sets the purse on her chair and pays for her drink. She waits for her change and begins tying up her hair in the back with a black hair tie that had been wrapped around her wrist. "Sorry. That was loud." He moves his arms to his lap and watches her neck come out as her hair goes up: the skin looking very delicate and milky compared to her much more tan face. The bartender gets her change for her with a placid round face looking at her and she looks up and says "Thank you, Donnie. Keep it real, man." Now she's pushing things around in her purse as if searching for something but not finding it, all the while seeming to get just a tiny bit more nervous with each second that passes. With her head looking down, still digging around her purse, she says: "So listen, I gotta go now. It was nice meeting you. What's your name?" Do you come here very often?" She gives up the search and huffs out, composing her thoughts. She looks at him. "Isaac. Nice to meet you, too." He put out his hand and they shook. "Cassie. Well--obviously--you know that by now." "Have a good evening." "Bye."

VII

She come in talking like, I think I wanna do porn. These are three thousand, four thousand dollar offers here. I mean wouldn't you? Talking about she has dead kids, she knows grief. Talking about how she been all fucked up and drinking Hennessy. Talking about Tim, divorcing after a decade and all the confusion. Talkin bout Jews and Egypt, after a long silence I finally give the best advice she got all night. I dont care about her. If only her brother sitting right in front of her knew what I did. He is full of love, among other things; displaced so far and away like now. We be talking about people in jail and mad laughter. I wanna tell her about the dirt. The discovery, the mushrooms I took, and what I was told, about the dirt. Oh they think it actually means something. All the effort is truly astounding, So much effort. This girl is going to Chicago to meet directors. This family shit too much. Good vibes and silence once I get to typing. SIlence. Yes. Good. That's the dirt. It's what was once, and will be and always has. He's got a lot of old friends that he calls brothers and sisters, so every other face I see pop in the door becomes my face, my blood. It's a fine and delicate trick we play on ourselves; nothing in the world of beauty can compare to the sophistication. Real shame that wore off. Very rarely do we abscond the distractions and truly dissolve. Most have no fear of the outside, but fear the inner. I always enjoyed the middle of the pool; just below the shoulders, with my toes barely dragging below. What I feel in the room tonight is like that perfect medium space in pools as a kid. SHe might do porn. She has a sugar daddy. (So does he). But he got a job this morning. Hers is pissed at her. Sugar daddy, that is. Talkin bout she can barely text a sentence and that's totally bogus upon her part. Verbatim. Talkin bout she treatin him like a peon. This dude forty seven, by the way. At least she's laughin. Usually it's not this sister but another pair of sisters. They're teenagers and lesbians and both seem to have mental things happening once in a while so it's usually these two girls huddled up together looking at their phones for hours upin end. They're kind enough. The whole world seems detatched, but kindly: lost, forgotten, perhaps even dead inside. But the soul can only sleep for so long.

VIII

Just before daybreak as Tommy Wexler was preparing coffee for himself in ritual for his Monday morning paper route, he came to the casement window to breathe in what the day would offer him to discover an indeterminate package nearby his front doorstep. Perfectly square in the typical brown paper, it bore no visible label or address, sitting in solitude in the quiet morning. After a brief struggle between openness and neurosis, he brought it inside and set it on the counter where he already had his mail bag and uniform for work set out and ready. Tommy's first instinct told him not to bother himself about the mystery box until after his work shift. Nothing much in his life was happening as of late, and this fact Tommy was growing (some might say unhealthily) accustomed to. He woke up that morning feeling well rested, and having had his second favorite Sunday dinner the night previous (steak and sweet potato salad), he was feeling generally grateful all around, and decided the best decision to make was to spend his good energies focusing on his job. He brought the mystery box back outside and replaced it in the same spot and position he found it. He did this with curious caution, after considering that the package may have been put there by mistake and was not even meant for him; for he truly could not find any reason to have expected it. He unconsciously hoped that the package would be gone upon his return home. Tommy was sentimental, and since he was still to be considered a rather young man supposedly tasked by society to attain supreme achievements and influences with unrelenting determination, he considered this his presiding weakness; he felt that sentimentality was the guaranteed, natural killer of ambition. Some days, he wished he were the type of headstrong and unscrupulous man that stops at nothing to get what he wants: a man of impact. Some days, he wished he could think of something, anything, that he wanted to get. In reality, he was gracious, pleasant, empathic, merciful, trustworthy, a pushover. He often wondered about the inner-workings of the minds of those men those uppermost regimes of success were occupied by. He fancied that they were either the most insecure people alive or the very least. He still cannot decide which is more likely. Tommy always had a sneaking suspicion that he was not among the least or the most secure. He was only "scientific" when completely necessarry, and he considered psychological self-exploration and improvement being a given, if not the top necessity. Was this "necessity" the means to his insecure end? Was he a classic overthinker? He would ponder. Would the term "overthink" exist at all were it not, as he believed, the guaranteed, natural killer of confidence? Was "insecurity" not a simple rephrasing of a general lack of confidence? He hoped not, for it would mean that those uppermost regimes of society were, in fact, made up of wholly "secure" persons; this, Tommy found quite unsettling. The most difficult aspect about Tommy's incessant self-scrutiny was the fact of him having very few friends or friendly people to discuss all of his possible adequacies and inadequacies, leaving him without any "relative to"s to substantiate his theories. Only in books and poetry did Tommy ever uncover those everlasting and ubiquitous human qualities with which we remain eternally connected with, and without them (the books and poetry), he fancied that he would be firmly sinking, and beyond alone. And yet, he remains pleasant and grateful most of his days. Once more considering the package, Tommy mulled over the idea that he might be grateful for all the wrong reasons. Going further, he immediately began to theorize upon the possibility of cowardice behind many of his actions he commited in the name of gratitude: his eleventh year at the postal service, the unchanging list of his top ten Sunday dinners, an unending corpus of literature as his sole interest. Should he dare consider his personal habits and passions, at first so seemingly sound, a hallmark of cowardice? Could a would-be friend of his also consider such an idea in regard to Thomas (or to himself)? He did not know. Upon turning right onto Webster Street after hitting the last house on Southlea, Tommy continued to deliberate, against his previous resolve to focus on the mail. His usual control of emotions wavered atypically. "No addressee, no definitive stamp, no anything--dead mail." A light drizzle was beginning to come down and Tommy once again elected to try and focus all of his attention to the day's work. Though not exactly a proud mail carrier, Tommy often recognized his consistency of overall competence at his perennial occupation, always with patent surprise--and always with gratitude. The big balloon slapping against his blue shorts was slowly deflating to Tommy's relief; for he was not anticipitive of this chilly wind and rain, the morning having been quite luminous and somewhat tepid. He had about an hour left before his mind, once again, began to linger elsewhere. "What is to be done when dilligence bumps against futility? Are the repercussions of abandonment overstated? That box! How many of us walk around in hidden, dampened fear? Moreso: what do we not admit to ourselves more than anything if not deep, subconscious enduring traces of fear? Do we worship the conquerer for his lack of fear? No! We worship his pugilistic grappling with it. That box..." On approaching his driveway around four o'clock Tommy spotted the mystery box exactly as he left it; outside a damp coating that wrinkled the top of it from the afternoon drizzle that had since finished. He called his buddy Tracer on his drive home, having the typical catch-up after Tommy's impromptu dinner invitation. Tracer insisted he would make it up to him soon. They would arrange a dinner for a week from tomorrow. "How much nuance is there in accomplishment? How much merit is lost when reaching the summit turns out to be futile, and failure rather a guarantee? Is abandonment self-mercy? Is there anything within self-mercy other than veiled cowardice, the shadow of fear? Is "futility" simply a pretext for calculated fear, a simple forecast of instinct?" He brought the package inside and set it on the counter next to his coffee pot and tea kettle, preparing the latter for his ritual Matcha Monday. After looking over the package once again, his thoughts still adrift. Tommy began scrubbing out a sticky spot on the side of a cabinet. Then, he found himself removing the stovetop grates in order to scrub some more against the edges of the ignitors, then the handle, then the control panel. Looking over during the deep cleaning, he noticed a smudge on the "Start" button of his microwave, and proceeded to wipe it away. In a minute, he was vaccuuming and dusting shelves, correcting the angles on every one of his fixtures and homely accessories as he passed by them. Everything went from his mind, and he was content. In an hour he would find nothing left to neaten, so he made a second cup of tea. In the brief lapse of duty he caught himself avoiding the direction of the counter where the box lay. Now adorned in his maroon fleece robe and linen pajamas, the light from outside fading away, Tommy glared mildly at himself in the mirror throughout his brushing and flossing. He came back into the kitchen and flipped off the light, and the box vanished in the darkness. He settled himself in his Chesterfield, opened up his copy of Tender Is The Night and managed to put the mystery box out of his head, his overtaxed brain ingraining into the pages until, at last, he fell asleep. The next weekend passed. On Sunday night, Tommy ate a Lean Cuisine out of the plastic container that it came in. "What do you think of gratitude?" Tommy asked as they wiped their mouths over freshly cleaned plates. "I'm grateful to you for the invitation, and for the tuna," Tracer began. "But, you know I'm not religious." "Does gratitude have to be synonymous with faith?" "I think so. When you say 'I'm grateful' do you mean grateful to God?" "Well, yes...perhaps "thankful" is more secular?" "I don't know. After all, you must have someone or something to thank. I would say 'appreciative' is a good way to put it." "How did you feel when Christine was born? Did you ever think the word 'grateful' to yourself?" "Maybe. Once we got her into her crib that first night--I'll admit--I prayed." "Didn't you once call agnostics fence-sitting pussycats?" They both laughed. "I'm sure I did. But I feel like even atheists probably say a prayer once their child is born safely without any issues," Tracer suggested. "I mean, it's because after that happens, you're just so...I don't know. Happy. And It's not going to hurt anything." "What about luck?" "I feel lucky sometimes; in the sense that everything is random and happens for no reason. So if good things happen to you without even trying, I'll call it being lucky." "But isn't luck considered superstitious?" asked Tommy. "I guess it is. I don't know. I just know when I feel lucky, it's not because I think God did something for me. More like, calling a coin flip correctly. It's just us against the odds." There was a moment of silence. "So what's this?" Tracer asked, indicating the box. "I don't know. It just showed up. I don't know who it could be from. It has no labelling whatsoever. Should I open it?" "A mystery box. Bring it over." Tommy grabbed the package from the floor beside the sofa. He was excited to see what was inside, and this he noted to mull over later on. Tracer moved the plates to the sink, clearing a space on the table. Tommy grabbed a small knife from a nearby drawer as Tracer made his way back to the table. Tommy pulled the box toward him and opened it.

Only Penelope could manage to mend and remain. Marvin was the opposite: tending to leave displeasure altogether, or ignore it's entire existence. She could remain in the most sacrifical stances and poses for hours; gliding over the outstretched fingertips and just safely enough outside of tumbling into Marvin's greedy field of gravity: a force of attraction fully emcompassed already to be honest; over-full by now with his egregious mis-shapen posse of greaser followers right behind groaning and foaming 'Penelope! Penelope! Save us, Penelope!' not far behind.

Mac was blessed with the ability to enjoy himself. He had a few friends and mentors who had told him to play it straight, tow the line, and other such things. The way to live life, they had said, was to embrace an unyielding sense of discipline, to make no compromise in developing an inner toughness, to sacrifice his favorite things that happened to exist at the same time he did. He was so open-minded and ready to listen he forgot to place stakes, to only hear. In due time the question he ultimately had in mind in regard to these others’ insistences and his own personal reactions had become:“ What do they have that I don’t?” Only after much time had flied did he realize the dao, equitable counter-response to these torturing advices would have, could have and should have been: “What do I have that they don’t?” All of this, though in his mind, never presented itself in the ideal conscious fashion and, after two years and two months of mental struggle and impossible attempts at reconciliation, he took out, sniffed out, eliminated completely and totally what he considered for the source, to he mainspring, the base plague of all these symptoms of his stress and confusion: his life.

Darik was a victim. He was, but he would never admit it. It was the mainspring of his sadness, that damn victimhood, was. He though he was invincible, he thought he was ageless, he thought he was a genius. Two things he always thanked atheistic luck and randomness sources like that’s a real act you could possibly do for was his humor and humility. (Not to mention, gratitude—a soul requisite.) Darik would rather vomit a comet than dime on his own masked insecurity. Darik Isn’t very smart. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t noble—Isn’t wise. If, just maybe when, he came to reason and crawled out of this terrifying Pink-Floyd-The-Wall state of mind, he dreamed. He would float along forward, in a clouded yet unhazy road into something along the lines of fantastic light streets and cars passing with indescribable shadows, reflections, expulsions. But in waking moments?

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jasongoldtrap · 1 year

Text

City of Music, part 7

By Jason Goldtrap

March 4, 2022.

In this series I am exploring the many sounds of Nashville. The following is a mixture of fact and fiction.

1963.

July 27.

Nashville, Tennessee. Present day Jefferson Street and I-40.

It is a sweltering, sticky night outside the Club Del Morroco. There are groups of African American men and women. The club has stiff competition with the nearby Club Baron, Maceo's and the New Era Club, but tonight they have the biggest crowd.

Many people are trying to get in, most but the front door remains; watched over by two large security guards. A paper sign slid into an aluminum slot next to the door reads, "Sold Out."

Many of the men are comparing cars, telling jokes, tossing dice or trying to talk to one of the young ladies. A few Whites mingle separately. Music brought them together but unfortunate cultural norms still apply. Some of them are interacting with each other.

On the second floor, the dining room is packed. They are cramming five in a booth of four. People are standing shoulder to shoulder against the wall. The hat rack is full. An old jukebox is unplugged.

Club owner Theodore Acklen, takes pride in his club. Everything is neat, clean and orderly. He opened the club while still a Sophomore at Tennessee Arts and Industry College- present day Tennessee State University.

Friends and fans call him "Lily" due to his generosity to the community.

The bar is running low on Pabst and Vermouth. Above the bar there are pictures of notable stars who have played the club: Little Richard, Ray Charles, Nat King Cole, Ethan James, Harry Belafonte Duke Ellington, Sarah Vaughn and Dinah Washington.

The King Kasuals are playing tonight. They have earned their reputation as having a tight sound. The lead singer is handsome and has a strong timbre in his voice. He and the band are wearing matching gold jackets, pressed white shirts and charcoal black slacks.

Supporting the lead singer is a double bass, tenor sax, drummer, rhythm guitar and lead guitar. The band was founded by the lead guitarist and the bass player, Billy Cox.

Let's talk about the young man on lead guitar.

He's a south paw so his guitar neck angles up from his right instead of his left. He plays it cool but, on occasion, will include his own unique style.

He is twenty-three years old. He grew up in Seattle but after being caught driving a stolen car he has to choose between jail or joining the United States Army. He was assigned to Fort Campbell, Kentucky, as a paratrooper in the famed 101st Airborne. He earned a Screaming Eagles pin but on his twenty-sixth jump he broke his ankle. This along with passing bad checks and general indifference towards military culture got him kicked out.

This was fortunate for him. He moved to Clarksville and then Nashville to make a living doing the only thing he cared about: playing guitar. When not at work, he kept to himself reading science fiction short stories. He also likes to write songs. Sometimes the lyrics are ambiguous and just plain bizarre. While he enjoys playing in the clubs but he is destined for bigger things.

His song notes are kept scribbled on pieces of paper. Just bits of words. Over the next five years, he will tour and record with bigger bands. He does alright but inside he is developing his own thing. Later on, his unique lyrics, musings and sensual style, imitated by others, will be called "Psychedelic."

He would rent a recording studio for two hours and just play around with his guitar; making it "talk." After one long session, he looks through some notes and sees two words written down long ago: "Purple Haze."

During an appearance on a tour with Cat Stevens and Engelbert Humperdinck, and the headline act The Walker Brothers playing at Finsbury Park Astoria in London, for the first time, after a raucous performance. He placed his guitar flat on the stage, doused it with lighter fluid and lit a match. And so Jimi Hendrix became a worldwide sensation.

As the smoke billows the scene fades.

#jimi hendrix #music #nashville #tennessee #history #rock and roll #african american #60s psychedelia

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bornofbloodandwater · 2 years

Text

@niratias A Surprise for Thackery

“I’ll be back in a bit, stay here.” Leaving him with a bright kiss, and a spark in her eye. She won’t lie to him. He is seeing a new band she thinks he’ll like, and she will be back...just not on his side of the stage.

Not three minutes after her dark coat swishes over in the direction of the bar, leaving him near enough the centre front, do the lights of the venue drop and the resonant chill of a reverb-cradled melody comes in through the misted dark.

“I’ve spent, in different beds

Many moons

And that’s the way I...”

The lights striking bright enough to stun all looking to the stage. In its wash, stand five women in creams and neutrals, ripped out of some Ivy League library. In the centre of them, dressed in a white silk negligee and six, ethereal, pale feather wings, stands Xiomara before the mic.

“Prefer it.”

Eyes steady on Thackery, a trickster smirk as her band launch into the weight of the song. Infernal-low bass, the lead dancing by Xio’s vocals and guided by the rhythm guitar, grounded by the wicked skill of their drummer.

Her presence on the stage is fluid, flirtatious, every movement guided by her instinct as a dancer. Weightless. As the song melds into another, the tone of the set sinking deeper and deeper into seduction, she reaches down towards him, pure lust and joy in her eyes, and catches the hand of the woman to his left. Casting a wink to the singer. Sit back and enjoy.

Hoisting the black-clad woman up onto the stage with ease to whisper in her ear. Her frantic approval caught in the mic. “Yeah. Sure. Yes.”

A gentle hand leading the woman deeper into the stage and placing the microphone in her hands right in front of her chest. “Hold that right there for me won’t you, Darling?” Swiftly kissing the neck of the brunette with all the passion of a lover. The fan swaying on her heels at the sensation, both hands on the stranger’s hips to guide her down into the seat at her back. Profile to the audience so they won’t miss a moment.

Both of the guitarists striking a three-part harmony of the first chorus with Xio. Her voice snaking to the microphone in the stranger’s grip. Straddling her thighs, a thumb caressing her jaw, fingers trailing down her neck. Beginning a performance only this woman will truly get to experience at its fullest, and most likely Thackery later tonight.

“Who taught you how to love like that?

It's a one-way ticket to a heart attack.”

Taking the mic back and leading one of the woman’s hands down her chest. Standing just as her hands reach for Xio’s hips.

“I wonder if she's coming back in my life?

Who taught you how to kiss this way?”

In a kick, her heel is caught on the back of the chair, bare thigh by the blushing face below, capturing her chin to force her to look up into Xio’s gaze.

“If you were born like this, baby, I will kneel and pray,”

Conducting the woman’s hands up her naked leg, as the song calls for the siren’s moans. Head tipped back in spectacular ecstasy, the woman’s eyes enraptured with the angel above, hair glowing in the stage lights.

“And thank the lord below for what he made every night.”

...

The woman stumbling off to the stage wings just as the third song begins. Now all her focus is back to Thackery, her soul, the very one who inspired her.

“Fraudulent, your existence

Synthesis of a broken yes man

I've been waiting for so long

To sacrifice the blood you've drawn.”

Head tipped back, arms spread wide in reverence. Thick, dark blood raining down upon her from the rafters and two full buckets tossed from below. Wings and silk dripping with red. A demon set to perform only for him, only for her soul, Thackery.

Hands roaming across slickened skin, leaving trails of golden hues in the wake of her fingertips. Her band members splattered with blood themselves, cashmere clinging with the sanguine. The bassist with a cigarette stuck to her lip like the womaniser she is. Xiomara singing with all her heart for only her darling, something she’d never have done without him.

“Delicate nature

Don't talk to strangers

Leave my life in his hands

Correct my behaviour

Lucid in danger

Don't talk to strangers

Is who I am melted erasure?”

A single trailing echo of the guitars filling the venue as she takes the mic, addressing the crowd one last time.

“Enjoy the rest of your night, heathens. We’ve been Lagneía.”

Crooking a finger at Thackery in the front row, catching his brilliant green eyes with a stutter of her heart and the brightest grin, tempting him up onto the stage to follow her into the wings. A light in her eyes so fiery she’d burn him if she didn’t adore him so.

#niratias #niratias thackery #🐚 xiomara x thackery; I will not sleep until you hold me for I cannot dream anymore of you and your absence

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darklightmiwxo · 3 years

Text

MIW history

Hello I want to make a history and facts post of MIW. I been a fan for a few months so I may miss some stuff out. New fans can check this out to understand more of the band.

Motionless in white members:

[IMG=OAA]

Name: Chris motionless (cerulli)

Full name: Christopher Cerulli)

Age: 34

Birthday: October 17 1986

Zodiac: Libra

Birth place: Scranton Pennsylvania

Height: 6'1

Role: main singer

Relationship Status: single

Chris says he doesn't want to get married.

Fear: heights and flying

Personality: a really kind person who cares for his fans he's funny and has a dad humor. Everyone just see him as a dad to them.

Interest: Chris really loves dogs. He plays video games halo and call of duty he plays it all the time. His fave bands is slipknot,marlin manson,korn,HIM,and more rock bands.

[IMG=EOZ]

Name: Ricky Olson (horror)

Full name: Richard Alison Olson the third

Nick name: Rick

Age: 32

Birthday: September 1st 1988

Birth place: Seattle WA

Lives: Scranton Pennsylvania

Zodiac: Virgo

Height: 5'6

Uni: he studied film production in college but dropped out for the band.

Role: rhythm guitarist and backing vocalist

Relationship status: taken by Jamie L

Fear: dying alone,being hated,failing

Personality: he's a calm sweet person he's very smart and also really kind. He's a good caring friend. However he can be a troll sometimes and mess around with everyone because he loves doing it. He loves his fans so much. He's a shy boy.

Interest: he loves to write,draw,edit,take photos, record videos,run his YouTube channel,create a mini sketch video to post on his channel, being a director,he loves cats and reading books.

Ricky fave bands is: muse,HIM,afi,slipknot,BMTH,Ariana grande,Ellie goulding.

[IMG=NEP]

Name: Vinny Mauro

Full name: Vinchenzo Mauro

Nick name: vin,chenzo,sachetti

Nationality: Italian American

Age: 27

Birthday: Nov 22 1993

Birth place: jersey shore Pennsylvania

Zodiac: Sagittarius

(he's also a Sagittarius Scorpio cusp)

Height: 5'6

Uni: vinny study computer programming but he dropped out of college to join the band in 2014

Role: drummer

Bands: MIW,suffer club,trap demon

Relationship Status: single

Fear: being hated by people

Personality: in most of Ricky vlogs vinny seem extroverted he is loud around friends and has lots of fun being silly. But in reality there is a side to him that isn't easy to see you can see it in his twitch stream. He's actually really introverted he said this himself. He's calming and sweet he interact with fans a lot and making sure fans respect each other. He loves to be alone in his room for many days avoiding human contact. Vinny mention being too shy to go up to new people but he is fine if people go up to him. He doesn't feel comfortable talking to new people. He likes being alone.

Interest: creating rap beats,playing video games,making music,dogs and cats,playing drums.

Vinny fave artist are: Fall out boy,paramore,korn,panic! At the disco,HIM,my chemical romance,arch enemy,maroon 5,emeiem,Ariana grande,dua lipa,Mack millo,doji cat,bring me the horizon,pierce the veil,sleeping with sirens,all time low,black veil brides,Rihanna,linkin park,green day,evanescences.

[IMG=XHH]

Name: Ryan Sitkowski

Age: 30

Birthday: Jan 8,1991

Zodiac: Capricorn

Birth place: Pennsylvania

Height: 5'11?

Uni: he dropped out of college to join MIW

Role: lead guitarist

Relationship Status: taken

Fear: spiders

Personality: Ryan is a chill person he's shy and caring to fans. He's also a troll he loves to mess around with his friends.

Interest: guitar,video games,trading card games.

Bands: the same as the rest of miw probably.

[IMG=QFE]

Name: Justin morrow

Age: 32?

Birthday: May 11th

Birth place: Caledonia, New York

Zodiac: Taurus

Height: 6'1

Role: bassist

Relationship Status: married

Fear: ?

Personality: Justin is a kind chill person who cares for his fans and his friends. He left ice nine kills to right away help MIW on tour. Justin is also a troll he loves trolling his friends.

Interest: videos games but not a nerd like the others,bass,cosplaying,putting makeup on.

Bands: the same as MIW

Motionless in white history:

The band started in high school of 2005

Chris,Angelo,Frank p,Kyle white being the first members of the band. Later after college and the bands demo releases Josh joined the band. Frank moved to bass. Micheal and TJ join as guitarist. Later on micheal left the band and Chris met Ryan. Ryan then joined as guitarist of the band. Chris met Ricky in 2009. Frank left the band and Ricky was the new bassist for MIW.

MIW got more popular in 2009 when they tour around the state's in a van. Tj left the band a year later to join escape the fate (Ronnie radke of falling in reverse old band and bless the fall singer Craig band) Ricky then became the new rythmn guitarist of the band. Ghost (Devin) join as the bass player of the band. During the infamous album creation Angelo was feeling ill he couldn't play drums well anymore he gets tired easily and his drum skills wasn't good at all he was eating bad that it make him weak. He couldn't drum anymore so he left the band. The band had other drummers help record their albums. Brandon was the touring drummer for the band till the end of the reincarnated album. The band met vinny and he became the new drummer he was in the reincarnated music video playing drums but you can't see him much in the music video. Vinny then became a member of MIW not a tour drummer anymore but a actually member of MIW. Josh left the band around this time. In the graveyard shift era after the making of the album the whole band kicked ghost out of the band because the fans told the band what ghost did to fans which was very gross. The band kicked him out and Justin from ice nine kills join the band as bassist then he quit ice nine kills to be working full time for MIW. Disguise is the first album where the whole current members of the band created songs without other people doing it for them.

Chris history from high school to now:

Chris grew up in Pennsylvania. He met his friends who end up being the band members of the band he wanted to create he wasn't expecting to be the main singer. At a young age Chris started getting tattoos everywhere.

Chris cared about the band and just went for it.

Demos of the band was created. Chris is a perfectionist he wants the album to be perfect so he was judging everything in order to make a album he liked. Band members left but he didn't quit the band he try to find new band members and try to meet new bands. He worked hard for the band he carry the whole band and make sure the band was doing well. Chris thanks Ryan and Ricky for being the most loyal band members staying with him all these years and not leaving him. Chris had the fear of failing the band breaking up and Chris dreams crushing down but Chris didn't let that happen at all. And here we are today.

Ryan Sitkowski college to now:

Ryan dropped out of college to join MIW at age 17. He was new to the band and Josh didn't like him at all. Ryan was at a young age traveling all over the state with the band. Ryan haven't shared much of his life on the internet he kept it more private. Ryan got a girlfriend and then when the lockdown happen he started streaming on twitch to interact with fans and made a discord too.

Ricky Olson high school to now:

Ricky is the oldest of his siblings. When Ricky was young he was playing with his friends sports and something hit his tooth so half of Ricky teeth is fake. He mention he cry to his mom on the phone because of it. Ricky in middle school wanted to be in a band because his friends played instruments and he wanted to join them. Ricky in high school was a shy boy who had a few friends but they were mostly fake friends. Ricky Olson begin to play guitar and write stories because of the inspiration of Ville Valo from HIM. He became obsessed with HIM. Ricky was in a band in high school as the lead singer but was kicked out for sounding like Ville valo. One of Ricky dreams was to be in a band and also a film maker. In college he study film production. While also working in band merch booth selling band merch to people. But since Ricky was too shy he got yelled at for not speaking up and selling more. Ricky was in a bad time around 2008 and 2009. He share this in a blog years ago about this. He was in a lost place had a bad past and he was thinking of the past all the time and future worrying about failing the future he wanted to be in a band but he was so lost he had no idea what to do in his life. He would day dream about being in a band and then cry to sleep every night about his life. He had depression and gave up with everything in his life. He drank achoul every day. One day on his sister 16 birthday Ricky was drunk coming home from work to go to his parents house his sister was sleeping in her bed.

Tw// self harm and suicide attempt:

Ricky was laying in his sister's bed he cut his arm with a knife it was a lot Ricky was sobbing while watching the blood going down his arm to the floor his dad saw what happen and ask Ricky what happen. Ricky was sobbing and yelling he wanted to die many times. He passed out and went to the hospital he lost a lot of blood and the achoul level was really high he drank way too much. He almost died. He end up getting better and went to see a therapist. He went to see MIW with a friend. Ricky met Chris and the band thought Ricky was cool so he invited them to stay at his house. Chris text Ricky being like should join our band. Ricky would often say idk if I should he didn't know if he would be good enough for the band.

He later on join and quit college but Ricky mention still feeling depressed while in the band. Josh ballaz disliked Ricky when he joined too. 2 years later Ricky moved to rythmn guitarist but he wasn't used to playing guitar since he mostly did bass so he often made mistakes on guitar. He was still learning to play guitar. Things got better for Ricky. But his dream job was always filming he does some film stuff on tour and at home. Though he knew he probably won't be a film maker for movies like he dream of doing he makes whatever he can make. Ricky has stomach problems he often went to the doctor because of it.

Vinny Mauro childhood to now:

Vinny is one of the youngest children of his family. He has many siblings. Vinny mention on stream that he had a bad past. He mention that his dad would take achoul all the time and not give a fuck about vinny. Vinny mom would always go after Vinny. Vinny as a kid was a trouble maker he would disobey his parents and think it was funny. His mom would throw stuff at him and threaten him. His dad gave him a drum set so vinny end up learning to play drums he self taught himself to play drums. He listen to music and got into new types of music he likes all types of music. In middle school a girl that he liked asked him if he can play paramore on drums and vinny played it for her.

In high school vinny was a outcast and loner he made friends in his neighborhood but at school he had no friend. He didn't fit in with anyone. He mention in Ricky Olson podcast his high school life. Ricky ask him how he didn't find friends in high school. Vinny mention saying he didn't fit in with anyone he is also a shy person so he doesn't go up to new people. He was more a loner and was fine with it. Vinny went to uni to study computer programming but he didn't like it at all he was often bored he posted videos of him drumming on his YouTube channel. He knew a guy who knew MIW. MIW was looking for a drummer and they asked vinny to try out for drums in another country which was Australia. Vinny dropped out of college and told his parents what he was doing they weren't happy about that but he end up going over there trying out drums but he was very nervous. He met the band and then went to start drumming. Chris and Ricky were in the same room as vinny they were watching him play drums. Chris being very judgemental. He often scares Ricky when he's on guitar and Ricky fear to make a single mistake in front of Chris and vinny felt that fear. He even said I think I mess up a few times on drums. After he finish drumming. Ricky and Chris went to talk said not a single word and vinny was sweating so much thinking he made a mistake and he won't be part of the band. Later on Chris made vinny part of the band. Vinny became the tour member of the band then he became a member of MIW.

Years later vinny decided to interact more with fans since he had time to so he livestreams on twitch and has discord to interact with fans.

The lock down happen and vinny spend time interacting with fans. He lives with his friend in a house together. But something about vinny these few years mostly months to now that was starting to show. Vinny was suddenly showing signs of depression he often tweet depressing stuff but each year got worst for him. 2020 was the start of vinny's down fall. He had so much self hate he hated his hair,his body,his looks everything about himself he hate. He even tweeted saying I'm sad so I'm going to make a song. He release alone. Even he tweeted about something sad saying 2020 was a bad start for him and Ricky ask if he was ok and hoping vinny was just joking around. During December vinny had back pains because of a sneeze that hurt his nerves so vinny was in so much pain and he didn't see a doctor he thought he could fight it himself just taking pain meds to him. In Jan of 2021 the start of vinny down hill. He was in so much pain he couldn't leave his room or chair he couldn't even drum. He was very depressed. He hated life so much. A month later he got better and went back to streaming but still he was struggling there was some bad stuff happening anyway with him. The covid shot made him sick Saying he didnt eat anything for 4 days he felt like throwing up he even woke up in the middle of the night thinking he was going to do it and other stuff that made him depressed. Around April of this year small amount of fans notice something was going on with vinny he mention so much self hate about himself. In May he mention he was fine but a week later he said he was depressed and talking about what happen months ago and years ago. Sharing something about his family past and he stopped himself saying he doesn't want to get too into it. Vinny mention that he was eating food once a day because he felt like he is fat for over eating food all the time so he end up just eating dinner only everyday. He done it since the beginning of March and still is doing it. He wanted to loss weight. So he doesn't want breakfast and lunch but he eats dinner.

Around may vinny was in rock bottom he talk to no one at all even Ryan was 30 mins away from vinny and he ask him why he didn't go to see him and vinny said he didn't know why. Vinny mention saying he talked to no one for a week straight he also mention he isn't the kind of person to go up to people he said he's very introverted. he stopped streaming for weeks because he was doing bad. He said he felt burnt out and tired.

He took his break off social media for many weeks. Around this time many fans notice vinny was really not doing well.

Then he return to streaming around the 18th of June. Just to say hi he said he miss his fans but he plans to stream again a few weeks later. He mention that he have been avoiding all human contact and was staying in his room playing video games and drums all day still with the once a meal thing he does. Vinny said he's not depressed but people ask him about his depressing tweets and he said is it really depressing. Someone ask him why he is listening to sad music and he said am I not allowed to enjoy music. Now more fans are worried about him. Many more fans noticing that vinny isn't ok and he's hiding it.

That's basically all of MIW history I could give.

I will update and add more to the list later when something new happens. The vinny stuff is true I been watching his streams a lot and he mention those stuff so I just wanted to share what he said. I been a MIW fan for 8 months so I may not know Ryan and Justin as much as the others. Since they don't share much about themselves.

Hoping you enjoy this. Free feel to comment somethings I forgot to add.

Please don't argue about ghost ok. Ty

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years

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Chapter 13 -- Perfect Harmony | Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Emily Fox is a talented 17-year-old with a passion for all things music. Her dream is to become a successful singer-songwriter one day. But to achieve that dream, she needs to get into one of the most prestigious music schools in her district – it’s all been part of her plan since she was six. Sadly enough, those schools cost a ton of money that her parents don’t want to invest. They don’t even want her to pursue her dream. So, now Emily’s hustling, working at the music store to save up to get into college. That’s until she meets Charlie, an annoying seventeen-year-old boy with the same dream as her. The only difference is, he’s just doing it. He doesn’t need a fancy college to pursue his dream to become famous with his band. He just writes his songs and books small gigs here, there and everywhere. Will meeting Charlie defer her from her dream college, or will he actually help her achieve the dream?

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x OC (Emily Fox)

Warnings: mentions of death, sexual assault

Important note: the characters of Charlie, Owen, Jeremy and Madison are based on the characters they play on the show and i do not own their names, only OC are mine. The songs aren’t mine either, they’re all from the show except for one.

Chapter thirteen

~|Emily Fox|~

“Good morning, party girl!” Uncle Mitch shouts a little too loudly on a Sunday morning. “You look rough.” I sit down at the kitchen table on the opposite of him. “Gee thanks,” I rub my face harshly, then rest my head on my hand with my eyes shut. “You got in late last night. Didn’t think you’d stick around at a Brianna Holly party for so long. It surprised me you went in the first place, but you know, you do you.” My eyes shoot open at the reminder of last night. Jake’s eyes. Jake’s hands. On me. Jake’s lips. On me. “I shouldn’t have gone,” I tell him honestly which only earns me a worried look. “I mean, it was fun teasing Brianna a little and standing up for myself and playing a song with the boys but then Jake…” I trail off, not wanting to talk about it but Mitch and I are all about the open-book-policy. Talk about anything and everything with each other even if it might worry the other. Better to share the load than take all of it on one’s shoulders. “What did he do?” Uncle Mitch’s voice sounds darker, heavier. Almost villainous. “He was talking about how great we used to be and that he wanted it back, I think? I don’t really remember what we’d talked about, all I know for sure is that he’d tried to kiss me. The boys had to literally tear him off me.” Mitch’s eyes are intense, but at least he’s not trying to go and murder Jake. “We left pretty much straight after that and the boys took me to the Music Store. We stayed there, talking, pretty much all night.” I smile at the memory because even though what preceded that beautiful moment was literally the worst thing, it’s still a moment to cherish forever. “I’m glad those boys were there to help you out. They sound like great friends.” I smile a little and nod determinedly. “Wish I could hear you guys play.” “We’re having band practice later tonight, if you want to come and li—” I can’t even finish my sentence, because Mitch has already gotten up excitedly, dancing around the kitchen – though I wouldn’t call that dancing – and running up to me to hug me tightly. “But first!” He lifts a finger in the air. “Let’s grab all the snacks and watch some movies!” I nod excitedly and get up to gather up some snacks. With hot cocoas and all the chocolate in the world, we settle onto the sofa with blankets wrapped around us and Disney+ open to pick a movie since today is Disney day. We alternate between Disney+ and Netflix, one week Disney, the other non-Disney. “Can we watch Aladdin?” I suggest, mainly because it reminds me of mine and Charlie’s moment on the balcony, unbeknownst to my uncle. It’s been a little while since we’d made out on the balcony. Might have to suggest it soon. Mama needs her sugar. “Your uncle Bobby loved that movie,” Mitch comments as he presses play, “Do you remember you two singing A Whole New World together when you were really young, and he gave you a bath?” I nod my head at the far, but beautiful, memory. “That first weekend I came to stay at this house?” Mitch nods his head, “Yeah, I used to make a Sultan out of Bobby with the bubbles.” Uncle Mitch laughs at the memory. “The bathroom was such a mess after that!” I can’t help but laugh at the desperation in Mitch’s voice. “But you two were the cutest duetters alive. I loved having you around when you were really young too, you know? Still so innocent, not knowing how big and bad the world was. It made me forget about the big, bad world too.” I smile at him and rest my head on his shoulder. I don’t know what I’d do without Uncle Mitch. Live on a street, I guess? Probably? He might not be family by blood, but he sure does feel like it. I never knew anyone being with Uncle Bobby than Mitch. They were my one true pairing. I wanted someone to love me the same way they loved – and still love – each other. Their bond is unbreakable.

“Ready to go, Mitchy?” I ask when we’re both changed out of our pajama’s after dinner, ready to head to Jeremy’s garage for band practice. It’s the first time we’ll be rehearsing in his garage, but I’m excited to find out where Sunset Curve previously used to rehearse. Pre me. “Yes! I am ready to partaaaay!” I roll my eyes at him, an amused smile on my face. “Behave though? Don’t go and embarrass me on the first day meeting them, okay?” “Yes, mom.” Mitch can be such a child, but I love that about him. “Boys?” I knock on the wooden door that’s ajar. There’s some rummaging inside, but nothing else. I push it open to find all three boys inside already. Charlie’s sorting through his loose songbook papers, Jeremy is tuning his bass, and Owen just sitting on the couch, playing around with his drumsticks. “Hey! I brought my uncle; I hope you don’t mind?” “Oh, not at all!” Jeremy says, and gets up from his spot on the armchair. “Hey, I’m Jeremy,” he introduces himself with a smile, reaching his hand for my uncle to shake, which he does. My uncle has this look on his face that I recognize as his gaydar. He literally scans people to find out their sexuality. His gaydar is very accurate. “Mitch, nice to meet you.” Owen gets up next, shaking my uncle’s hand too. “I’m Owen, the drummer,” he shows the sticks in his hand. “I see,” Mitch replies with a smile, and then comes Charlie. “Hey, I’m Charlie, I’m—” he points at me, and I know what he’s going to say, but I can’t have him tell my uncle about us yet. “The lead singer!” I chime in and give him a knowing look. “Right, yeah, the lead singer,” Charlie looks kind of hurt, and it breaks my heart in two as well. Just an us-thing, for now. Then it can be an everyone-thing. I hope he understands. “Nice to meet you, guys!” Mitch then leans closer to me, “And which one of the two cute semi-straight boys is the Cutie from the Music Store?” he whispers with Charlie just a few feet away. His head turns slightly and his mouth curls upwards. He heard Mitch. “Semi-straight?” I ask for an explanation. “Jeremy is questionable.” “Right…” I trail off, still whispering, “Let’s get to work, guys,” I speak up now, so the band knows I’m talking to them. Uncle Mitch looks a little hurt at me ignoring his question, though I’m pretty sure he knows it’s Charlie. “What song first?” Charlie queries while my uncle takes a seat on the couch and we get ready. “Why don’t we let the guest choose?” Jeremy suggests, pointing at my uncle. “Me?” I nod my head, encouraging him. I’d told them all the songs we’d made or already sang together. Which are three, four if you count This Band Is Back. “I really liked Perfect Harmony when Ems showed it to me the other day.” Charlie and I exchange a glance, a shy smile plastered on his face, and I’m pretty sure mine mirrors his. He goes to grab his acoustic guitar for this one. “Perfect Harmony it is, then!” Owen says and counts us in. Where Charlie and I imagined the soft beat and melody, that’s where Owen and Jeremy come in with the drums and bass. We’d only practiced this one a couple of times before. It still has the same, electric vibe it did when Charlie and I sang it alone. I still feel the same sparks, the same tingles rushing over my body. “I feel your rhythm in my heart, yeah,” I sing without taking my eyes off of him. “You are my brightest, burning star, woah-woah” “I never knew a love so real” “So real,” he echoes. “We're heaven on earth, melody and words When we are together we're In perfect harmony Woah, woah Perfect harmony Woah, woah Perfect harmony” I glance at Uncle Mitch. He’s staring at us with so much pride and intensity. When he catches my glance, he mouths “Cutie from the Music Store”, which makes me smile like an idiot. He knows. “We say we're friends We play pretend You're more to me We create a perfect harmony” Uncle Mitch gets up off his seat, clapping and whooping like an intense fan. “My favorite song ever! So beautiful!” he shouts in between cheers. We play Now or Never, and, upon Jeremy’s request, This Band is Back before calling in a break. “I need a wee,” I say and patter towards the bathroom in the back. When I’m about to head back inside, I hear the boys playing a song I haven’t heard before. Or at least I don’t think I have. It intrigues me even more when I hear Mitch’s voice through the microphone. “Let me introduce myself We got some time to kill Consider me the pearly gates to your new favorite thrills We could go make history or you could rest in peace But here there ain't no misery Cause on the other side we live like kings” I find the boys in their regular spots, Uncle Mitch probably having told them what chord to play in or something. Either that or they’re just playing around, and Mitch’s song just matches. “Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do? Let your body loose, let your body loose Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do? Show you a thing or two 'Cause you ain't seen nothing” That’s when I recognize the song. It’s the one Uncle Bobby wrote for a Halloween musical at his school once. It was the villain song of the whole story and stuck in all our heads for months. I still know the words, and thus decide to sing along with my uncle, much to the boys’ surprise. “Life is good on the other side of Hollywood Life is good on the other side of Hollywood So welcome to the brotherhood Where you won't be misunderstood Life is good on the other side of Hollywood” I get behind the keyboard and play a couple of notes, leaving the verse for my uncle. “Everything has got a price but happiness is free Just so happens, you're in luck We've got a vacancy We can set the night on fire and break out of the scene Your soul print on the walk of fame On the boulevard of your wildest dreams” I now grab a mic too, properly wanting to join in now. “Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do boys? Let your body loose, let your body loose Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do boys? It ain't bragging if it's true Now you ain't seen nothing” I walk up to Jeremy whilst I sing along to the chorus and Jeremy’s shredding the bass. “Life is good on the other side of Hollywood Life is good on the other side of Hollywood” I walk over to the drumkit and jam out for a moment with Owen. “So welcome to the brotherhood Where you won't be misunderstood Life is good on the other side of Hollywood” I then move to Charlie while my uncle gets to the bridge. The boys stop playing and clap along with me. “The rain don't blind the rising souls They got too much to see I got your glamour, got your gold Got all you'll ever need Let me hear you now!” The boys have somehow remembered the lyrics my uncle just sang, and sing them with me now. “The rain don't blind the rising souls They got too much to see” “Yeah,” Mitch goes for a high note, chilling my spine. “I got your glamour, got your gold Got all you'll ever need,” the four of us continue. “Yeah,” Another high note from Mitch. The boys now pick up their instruments again. “I said watch me make a move, watch me make a move boys” “Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do?” the boys and I echo. “I said watch me make a move, no, I don't disappoint” “Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do?” “Watch me make a move I'm ya number one choice” “Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do?” “Watch me make a move Come one and give me that noise” The boys take a break. “A tomb with a view Ain't it something?” And pick it back up with a bit of bass before all three of them join in again, and even join me into singing the backing vocals for my uncle. “Life is good on the other side of Hollywood Life is good on the other side of Hollywood So welcome to the brotherhood Where you won't be misunderstood Life is good on the other side of Hollywood So welcome to the brotherhood Where you won't be misunderstood Life is good on the other side of Hollywood” Charlie and Jeremy stop playing and leave Owen a little drum solo.

“Ain't it the best? Long live the dead!” Mitch shouts out dramatically, and then Owen goes off again on his drums. “I thought your Uncle Robert was the musically talented one?” Charlie asks with an impressed smile on his face. “How do you think we met? It was musical night in our favorite bar, and we sang a song together. That first scene in High School Musical?” The boys nod, knowing what he’s talking about, “It’s based on our story… Just straight.” The boys laugh light-heartedly at his story. “That’s not true,” I whisper, making them laugh even more. “That was a fun song though! How did you know it?” Jeremy asks me. “Uncle Bobby wrote it. He is – was – the music teacher at this high school and he wanted a cool villain song for the villain in his Halloween musical, so he wrote himself one. The song used to be stuck in our heads for months on end. It surprised me I still knew it.” “The boys were playing around with their instruments and it reminded me of Bobby’s song,” Mitch tells me, “I couldn’t help but chime in and start singing.” He wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to him. “It’s such a tune,” I say with a smile, “I think Bobby would’ve liked us singing it together.” “I think so too,” says Mitch and he presses a kiss to my hair. “Let’s get home now, yeah? Give your boyfriend a kiss and we’re off.” Charlie and I freeze, neither of us expecting Uncle Mitch to know about this since I never told him. “Oh, come on. You could not sing Perfect Harmony without staring at each other like that heart eyes emoji-thingy. I don’t only have amazing gaydar, I also have amazing love-dar.” He winks at me as I shake my head in disbelieve, but I can’t help the smile either. My uncle knows me well. “See you tomorrow, guys,” I say with the most awkward wave. I mean, I’m not going to kiss Charlie in front of my uncle. Especially when he specifically told me to do so. That’s just weird. Uncle Mitch gives me a look, which I shoot back. He then rolls his eyes. “I’ll meet you outside. Say goodbye properly.” He leaves the garage, and then it’s the four of us. Neither Charlie nor I move, still unsure of the public displays of affection in front of the boys. “Seriously?” Jeremy groans before leaving the garage with Owen. They’ll be able to entertain my uncle for a while. I don’t even know why it’s so hard for me to show PDA. It never used to be this way with Jake. But maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe us taking it slowly and not showing us off too much is healthy for us. “I’ll see you at the store tomorrow?” I ask whilst the two of us slowly walk up to each other, inching closer and closer by the second. “Definitely,” he replies with a smile. Once we’re inches away, he grabs my hands in his. “Isn’t your uncle going to be annoyed you didn’t tell him sooner?” I shrug. “I don’t think so. He knows how private I am about relationships. And besides, you heard him, he’s got amazing love-dar.” Charlie’s laughter intertwines with mine. “I think he knew before today already too. He’s all-knowing.” “As long as he doesn’t know about our sneaky dates on your balcony, I think we might be fine.” I chuckle at that comment, and then both of us fall silent. “He probably knows this’ll happen though.” The words come out just above a whisper as he inches closer and dips down. His lips meet mine in a sweet, somewhat long-lasting kiss. “I’m pretty sure they’re eavesdropping, though,” I say when we pull away. “No, we’re not!” Jeremy shouts from the other side of the door. “Yeah, definitely,” says Charlie, and he lets go of one hand, intertwining the fingers of his other hand with the one he’s still holding. He leads me out the door and then lets go of that hand too. “She’s all yours, Mitch,” he tells my uncle, and reaches out the hand he’d just held mine with for a handshake. “Hey!” I shout, “I’m no property!” Both Charlie and Mitch raise their hands in defense. “Yes, girl! Tell ‘em!” Owen preaches, holding his hand up and I slap mine on it in a high five. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” I kiss Charlie’s cheek quickly and then leave the boys with Uncle Mitch. “They’re really nice boys, Muffin. I’m glad you’ve found them.” I smile at that. “Me too, Mitchy, me too.”

Taglist: @parkeret @lukeys-giggle @hannahhistorian92 @gingerxarmy @marinettepotterandplagg @lovesanimals @thequirkybookaholic @calamitykaty Lemme know if you want to be on my taglist for this story/any of my other works!

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #charlie gillespie #jeremy shada #owen joyner #madison reyes #charlie x oc #oc emily fox #luke patterson #reggie jatp #alex jatp #julie molina

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disney8733 · 3 years

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finding our song book one

begging

The lights of the stage flashed on showing the band members on it. You could hear the hum of the lead starting the opening of the song “ Put your loving hand out, baby 'Cause I'm beggin'' The rest of the band starts to join in the song known as, Beggin’. From the right side of the stage, you could see him as the main bass of the band Daichi Sawamura, A five foot nine well-built dark-haired brown-eyed man with thighs so thick they could crush a watermelon in half. It was the beginning of the trash heap tour for Junkyard scrap. The alternate punk rock band that everyone knew. They were known for being an attractive upcoming popular All-Star Band. Their lead singer had an amazing voice that could go and reach the low notes of a song but sound smokey and sweet and loving. Their bass guitarist could play the strings of his bass like nobody else. Their lead guitarist could play any guitar ranging from electric to ukulele. And there was their drummer. He was the rhythm of their band and could make a beat out of a pencil tapping on a table. But that's not all the band had to offer oh no there is much more. At first glance, junkyard scrap looks like a normal band but that's not all they had. Each one of the band members could do more than just what they were known for. junkyard scrap was nicknamed The Multiverse band, their lead singer Kōtarō Bokuto Also known as the owl was a Bombastic, friendly, energetic guy. Also known as The Moody one tending to sometimes in the middle of an interview going into an “emo mode” because he was sad. Bokuto could also play the drums, guitar, and song right to a certain extent. Tetsurō Kuroo the lead guitarist, is also known as rooster head due to the way his hair looks. Although he looked laid-back, he always seemed to be scheming for something and liked to provoke others' well-dishing outside remarks to them. But the truth of reality is that true karoo is a kind of surprisingly genius man both in music and somehow chemistry. The man could not only play electric guitar but also the bass, the acoustic, the ukulele, the piano, the trumpet and is an absolute god at writing love songs. Daichi Sawamura The bass guitarist of the group. Known as the dad of the group he's responsible, caring, understanding, and patient. Except for when you piss him off then he becomes utterly terrifying and everybody seems to be attracted to that. He can also play the electric guitar. If and when he does sing it's a very low soft and sweet velvet voice. And lastly Hajime Iwaizumi on the drums. A stubborn yet reliable member of the band with a strong intimidating vibe. With a firm yet caring attitude towards the rest of his team everyone tends to respect him and all his fans see him as a bad boy. He can also sing very well. These four young men make up the group known as Junkyard scrap. Clear their fan base they were gods that can play music like nobody else the hottest things on Earth. But to the four of them, they were just a bunch of friends who decided to play at a concert one night with the rest is pretty much history. From the crowd, you can hear the girls screaming their heads off for Daichi. Indicating that they were playing the song ashes which was sung by the drummer Iwaizum. “I fell in love with a boy I met in hell”. As the concert continued The Stylist walked up to their manager Kiyok.

“Are we going to do an outfit change?” the stylist asked

“Not that I know of unless Bo has other plans” She replies with a heavy sigh. Bo had a habit of taking his shirt off in a particular song known as Glory and throwing it in the crowd because according to him the song had just such a “vibe” and “he was so pumped he didn't know what he was doing”. The entire band called them out for just wanting to take his shirt off for no reason. And he did not deny or confirm this action. As the two were talking at that very moment You could hear Kuroo starting to play his electric guitar to the notes of none other than the song Glory. Kiyoko Turn to The Stylist rolling her eyes towards the stage saying “ well the answer to your question is yes Suga, we will be an athlete change in which Bokuto will need another shirt”

“Noted” he replied back quickly leaving her at the side of the stage to go get him a new shirt. At this point, he wasn't surprised he had been with the band as their stylus for the past 6 months and he had gotten pretty much used to the clothes that he had either hand-picked or made himself for Bo, being thrown into the crowd. At first yeah totally annoying the crap out of him. But then the bass player of the band talked to him stating how typically they get the shirts back because most of the fans know but was not allowed to do that anymore even though he still does it. Daichi promised that he would talk to Bo after every concert and yell at him for doing so. Now it wasn't that Suga would say that he was in love with Daichi. But he loves the idea of having a strong Rockstar boyfriend. Though it was never going to happen, he knew that and that was fine. What he didn't know is that Daichi himself had fallen head-over-heels Suga from the day that they met. As the concert ended you could hear the loud roaring of the crowd. The band thanked everybody for coming out and giving them a chance to start a brand new tour.

As the band members came off the stage. They were talking and laughing in a way that made you feel at home.

“That was a good show” Kuroo stated “Even if Bo took his shirt off again” the Rooster continued

“ I told you guys every time you play the song. I just get this feeling that I just can't explain it I just got to be free it's glorious if you try it sometime” Bokuto responded well laughing

“ You know Bokuto. First of all, it's just weird and secondly, you throw away all of Suga's hard work. You jerk” Daichi replied looking at Suga

“Oh, it’s ok. There just close

“No, it’s not ok. It costs us money every time he does it. Right kiyoko” Iwaizumi said

“Sadly Iwaizumi is right,” she said without even looking up from her notes.

“IM SORRY SUGA” Bo bowed his head. Suga just smiled.

“Don't worry, let's go get the shirt back together this time ok” the beautiful silver hair boy stated. As they walked away Daichi couldn't help but stare at Sugawara. To him, Sugawara was a beautiful 5' 8.7" slender-built guy, with light grey hair, and hazel-brown eyes. Not to mention, a birthmark mole under his left eye that Daichi just wanted to kiss. Kōshi Sugawara had a soothing and gentle personality. he kind of acted as a pillar of support for the crew and the band. He was a kind and sweet man. Daichi was unsure of when he had fallen for the man, maybe it was when they first met. That was the start at least.

“You if you ask him out, no one would stop you and every owner would approve,” Kuroo said smiling as they walk to the dressing room.

“I can't I have to Maintain appearance for the band's image” he s simply replied

“ You're joking right, In case you forgot I'm dating Kenma. You know the guy who wright more then half our song” Kuroo Side as he sat down in the chair taking his shoes off

“That's different. You two were dating way before we came to fame” Daichi huffed out as he took his jacket off. Just then Kenma walked while playing on his Game Boy.

“Kuroo,” the short boy said not looking up

“Yes, kitten?” the roster replied

“I want cuddles and apple pie”

“Ok kitten, just let get changed” Kuroo hurried up getting out of the outfit he had on and into sweatpants and a sweatshirt then picked up his boyfriend, leaving the room to go get apple pie and cuddle. Leaving Daichi alone. “Maybe he’s right,” he sighed as took out his shirt.

“Knock knock Dai-” Suga said, opening the door just as Daichi’s pants groped. Leaving him in nothing but his boxer. “OH, MY GOD IM SO SORRY I- I’ll um” He stumbled to figure out what exactly should say.

“It’s fine, just give me a sec,” Daichi said as he grabbed his sweatpants, He had decided to leave his shirt off for a multitude of reasons, mainly because he wanted to make Suga blush. “So I'm guessing you need the outfits from the performance today,” He said as he smiled. “Um yes please… and thank you” Suga replied calmly. Daichi nodded, picking up the clothes in the room and heading them over to Suga. Just as Suga took them he ended up trying over his feet, falling on Daichi. When Suga opened his eyes he realized both of his hands were on Daichi's chest, his shirtless chest realizing. where his hands were he blushed training his face into the color of the Tomato he stood up to grab the clothes and ran to the door. “I'M SORRY...Again… AND THANK YOU… GOODBYE!” He said that he closed the door behind them running down the hallway away from the embarrassment that just happened. Leaving sitting on the floor as red as the color of a tomato. “Your welcome,” he said to no one but himself.

To be continued

#kōtarō bokuto #daich #tetsurō kuroo #kuroo #iwaizumi hajime #hq iwaizumi #kenma #sugawara koushi #haikyuu #bokuto #akaashi

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arthur-rex · 3 years

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The Knights of Albion ( modern rock star verse plot/ideas )

NOTE: This is now a closed verse with @sorceress-queen (morgana) @thelegendofemrys (merlin) and @nobilitydefined (gwaine)

1500 years after the events of BBC’s Merlin, Arthur, Gwen, Morgana and the knights are reincarnated in the present day.

Arthur is an aspiring musician, singer and songwriter. While at college, he meets Gwaine, Percival, Leon and Elyan. Strangely drawn to each other, they begin to pitch music ideas back and forth and together, they eventually form the rock band: “The Knights of Albion.”

Arthur is the singer/songwriter and lead guitarist. Gwaine is the drummer. Percival plays bass guitar. Leon plays keyboard and Elyan mixes the sounds and occasionally provides backing vocals.

Elyan’s younger sister, Gwen often comes to visit to see the band practicing and is a close friend of Arthur’s. In some versions of this verse they become lovers.

Not long after the band’s formation, recent PR graduate Morgana joins the team as the band’s publicist/manager. She sees potential in Arthur’s music and thinks she knows how to make the band truly become famous.

A few years later, Arthur and his ‘knights’ secure a breakthrough: they are going to play as a supporting act at the world-famous Glastonbury music festival.

The performance goes off incredibly well. Live recordings of the concert mean that Arthur and his rock band become a musical sensation almost overnight and Morgana becomes extremely busy with bookings for future performances all over the world.

And Merlin was present at the Glastonbury concert.

He’s been following the band in the newspapers for some time, but this is the first chance he gets to meet Arthur face-to-face. It’s been so long since he last saw his friends and to see all of them on that stage together is overwhelming.

So after the concert, Merlin lines up with all the other screaming/adoring fans for an autograph and photo with the group. Arthur sees Merlin and... hesitates. He’s been getting these weird hallucinations of his former life for a few months now and the sight of Merlin makes him start to have even more vivid episodes. Confused and alarmed, he walks away from Merlin and the rest of the waiting/disappointed fans.

Merlin knows he’s going to need to get close to Arthur again. The thing with reincarnation magic is it needs an anchor-point in order for the memories to be returned. The closer Merlin comes to Arthur, the more extreme Arthur’s memories become. But to Arthur, he just thinks he’s losing his mind, and that worries him as it’s not as if he and his bandmates haven’t taken a few hard drugs while playing music on the road from time to time.

The weeks that follow involve Merlin trying to get close to Arthur again, but unfortunately for Merlin it comes across as though Arthur has got himself a very creepy obsessive fan. Even Gwaine starts to joke/remark half-seriously whether this is an ex-boyfriend that Arthur’s neglected to tell his bandmates about.

Eventually Merlin gets his moment with Arthur (not sure if this is due to a breach in security or Arthur willingly goes to him) and Merlin gets extremely close and places his hands on Arthur’s head. He’s speaking in an very ancient language to tap into the old Arthur within the reincarnated one. The last thing he says to calm Arthur down is “stay with me” ( the last thing Arthur heard before he died in the BBC series ) and then he presses his forehead against Arthur’s and all the memories come back.

Needless to say, this is a head trip the likes of which no drugs can match. Arthur is back with all his old memories of who he was and is, and Merlin is right there with him. It’s a poignant moment.

They go back to join up with the others and Arthur repeats the trick that Merlin did with him. By fully integrating with his old self, Arthur is able to reawaken the memories in his reincarnated bandmates by touch alone. The ‘bond’ that drew them all together at the start is steeped in a magic that Arthur is now a part of. The Knights of Albion are back. Returning Morgana’s memories is a tricky case as it is not certain whether she will be volatile like she was before she died in her past life. She might also come back into her old powers which could make her a risk. But I think, eventually, Arthur takes the chance and brings her over too.

What next? Arthur asks Merlin this question seriously. What can they do to restore magic, peace and prosperity to Albion/England, now Arthur is no longer a king and the world has moved on from the feudal system of the past. Merlin replies that they have their music, their fame, their global influence to make a difference.

The following albums the band produce therefore have songs with lyrics that are rather political: pro-peace, pro-LGBT rights, anti-war, anti-fascism, etc etc.

Due to the enduring popularity of the band, these viewpoints eventually make headway with politicians and law-makers around the world. Maybe Arthur and the group are invited to play for special pro-bono concerts for charity causes (Band Aid?) and they are often featured in influential celebrity columns.

Of course, not everyone is happy/enamoured with Arthur and his rock band. The political opinions expressed in his music lead to the group getting the occasional death threats. Merlin (and Morgana?) continue to use their magic to keep Arthur and the band members safe... but it could be a matter of time before another tragedy occurs.

(I’m thinking of the popularity of John Lennon before he was assassinated).

BONUS / EXTRA:

Lancelot is not part of the original line-up of the band, but becomes the replacement bassist / rhythm guitarist when Percival gets sick from taking too many ‘special’ pills and has to go into rehab for a while.

Mordred is a rival rock star and singer/songwriter to Arthur and they clash perhaps at a few gigs over the years. Arthur vaguely remembers Mordred from his early college days, but they were on good terms then.

Uther (Arthur’s deadbeat dad who he refuses to restore the memories to) decides to show up at some point to ask his famous son for money. He’s had a drinking problem ever since his wife died giving birth to Arthur and Uther left the hospital, not wanting to have anything to do with his son. He’s never appreciated Arthur and is disgusted by his son’s bisexuality.

#v. the knights of albion #reincarnation au #rockstar au #Arthur Pendragon rp #BBC Merlin rp #//ok so too many ideas and thoughts as usual #//this is almost as bad as the entire sketch for the dragon!Arthur au

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sinceileftyoublog · 3 years

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Doug Clifford Interview: Shuffle & Flow

Photo by Brent Clifford

BY JORDAN MAINZER

For All the Money in the World is a time capsule. The album, written by Creedence Clearwater Revival drummer Doug Clifford and Greg Kihn Band bassist Steve Wright, was recorded in 1986 but won’t see the light of day until the end of the month. Since then, it’s been waiting in Cosmo’s Vault--the self-proclaimed storage area for Clifford’s unreleased music--until the right time. “There’s some good music on this album,” Clifford told me over the phone earlier this month. “Right now, more than ever, we need some good music that’s uplifting and makes you feel good.” Plus, for Clifford himself, the tunes have barely scratched the surface: “To me, it’s still new.”

After Creedence Clearwater Revival broke up in 1972, Clifford released a solo album and later joined the Don Harrison Band, which also featured former CCR bassist Stu Cook. In 1995, he and Cook formed Creedence Clearwater Revisited to play CCR songs live without singer John Fogerty, who retained artistic control over CCR. Revisited’s last show was in February 2020 in Mexico, and based on what Clifford told me, that’s likely their last, at least in this version, as Clifford is suffering from Parkinson’s Disease. All in all, though, he’s ready to move on from those songs, instead choosing to look into different parts of the past. Last year, he unearthed his lost second solo album Magic Window. And now, with For All the Money in the World, released under the name Clifford/Wright, he’s beginning to revisit a series of recorded writing collaborations whose release never came to fruition.

Though Clifford/Wright was formed around the rhythm section, the rest of the band that plays on the album is nothing to sniff at: guitarists Greg Douglass (Steve Miller Band), Jimmy Lyon (Eddie Money) and Joe Satriani and keyboard players Tim Gorman (The Who) and Pat Mosca (Greg Kihn Band). The lead vocalist picked for the project was Keith England, whose emotive howl ties it all together on the title shuffle and stadium anthem “I Need Your Love”. While the first two songs sound like something you might expect to be recorded in 1986, other tracks operate under different styles and recording aesthetics. The rockabilly echo of “She Told Me So” lies in stark contrast to the ripping guitar jaunts of “Lost Pride Fever” and “Weekends” and the funk snap of “You Keep Runnin’ Away” and “Just In The Nick Of Time”. Indeed, some songs on here sound like they could be Steve Miller or Eddie Money jams, but for the most part, they sound like lost relics of rock radio, comfort food for troubling times.

Clifford hopes For All the Money in the World is more than nostalgia, though. For one, he’s “calling the shots,” releasing the album on his own label, Cliffsong Records, with a distribution deal through Bob Frank Entertainment. “It’s like a publisher’s outlet for the songwriters involved,” he said. “It’s really kind of exciting.” His hopes are that the songs do land on today’s rock radio or do well streaming so they can release it on vinyl. “I still get a kick out of it,” Clifford said about hearing his songs on the radio. Not bad for somebody who started playing in bands at age 13. And while it’s very much not a CCR album, he’s excited for CCR fans to hear it, okay with the long-disbanded legendary outfit as the connecting bridge for listeners. They might just come away with a new favorite song.

Pre-save/pre-order For All the Money in the World, out August 27th, here, and read my conversation below with Clifford, edited for length and clarity.

Since I Left You: I was struck by the variety of styles on this album. You think to yourself, “What would music written around the 80′s sound like?” There’s some of that, but there are other sounds, too. Do you remember consciously trying to write in a number of styles?

Doug Clifford: Yes, because we were trying to get a record deal. We were the only writers in the group, and we wanted them to know we could write more than just “Bad Moon Rising”. There’s really not much in there that sounds like Creedence. With Steve Wright on bass, that changes a lot of things. It puts a different spin on it from the standpoint of the house the songs are built on, the rhythm section. It’s exciting. I listen to it as if it’s another band. [laughs] Normally, I don’t do that. Steve passed away in [2017], so we won’t do any more writing or playing, but this album is a chance to hear a great bass player and songwriter. I’ve got three terrific guitar players in there, too, Joe Satriani, Greg Douglass from Steve Miller Band, and Jimmy Lyon from Greg Kihn and Eddie Money. A guitar extravaganza. A lot of good stuff coming from this record.

SILY: Not only does the record sound different from CCR, but I heard a lot of the other projects the players were involved in, like Eddie Money and Steve Miller.

DC: Yeah, but when we were doing the writing, those guys weren’t in the band. Steve Miller is one of my best friends. He loves “She Told Me So” on this record. He sent me an email all excited that said, “I was dancin’ around my studio! You still got it!” [laughs] I love that guy.

SILY: I like songs like that, that have a little more of a shuffle.

DC: That would be [the title track], too. I love shuffles.

SILY: You’ve said people need songs like this at a time like now. When you wrote and recorded them, did you know you’d put them away for a while?

DC: Not really. If you’re a songwriter, you want to have versions of your songs that sound radio-ready instead of just [recorded on] an acoustic guitar. I produced everything that we wrote, so we had good versions of our work and presented it that way. The idea was not to put these things out as albums, but for record companies. Then you’d go out and play, and they’d send their A&R guy. Steve didn’t want to play in any of the clubs we’d have played in, and you need a band that plays, so that started the tailspin of this project. [After that,] I did a solo singer-songwriter album [Magic Window], and I did projects for areas that had overgrown forests and droughts. I had kids that were going to school. So I sort of slowed down on the music and slapped [these songs] in Cosmo’s Vault. That’s where they stayed till a year or so ago. I [finally released Magic Window], but nothing happened because...COVID hit, and it really changed everything. There’s been enough time that we’re all living through the virus that it’s time to hear [For All the Money] on the radio to make me feel good. It’s a labor of love that all songwriters have. Allowing people to hear the excellent musicianship of Steve Wright playing bass. There’s a little difference in my playing as well. It’s fun, really enjoyable.

SILY: When you were originally writing the lyrics and instrumentation, were you going for a feel-good, uplifting type thing?

DC: When you’re looking for someone to invest in you and put you on their label, you want them to like your music, too. I’ve never been a guy to write songs that make you feel bad. [laughs].

SILY: What were you looking for in a vocalist, and why did you end up going with Keith?

DC: We were so fortunate to have Keith in many ways. He was the youngest guy we were working with. I would be the guy to teach him the songs, as the writer of the words. He had to sing those words and get the idea of the song across, which is a big job for any singer. He took special care to get the essence of the song. It makes a big difference to learn the words and melody. I took extra time to write the melody, because I’m putting the words out there, and a lot of time, the melody would depend on what the words were. You have to give the singer places to breathe. I gave Keith liberty to let me know if something wasn’t working for him vocally, to sing it the way he was comfortable. He always came through. The idea of a song is like a chapter in a book. It has to have meaning and a certain ambiance and feel to it. That’s at least my approach to writing and performing, really. He nailed every song in a very professional approach. That’s not an easy thing to do, especially over 11 songs.

There are other songs in the vault from the sessions that he did. He was the only singer we had. I’d like to see success, not just for myself and Steve, but for Keith. He was the only guy on the session that wasn’t in a band that had a Gold or Platinum album, and he’s very deserving of it. I’d love to see this thing be successful on that level because I’d love to walk up to his front door and knock on it and hand him a Platinum album. He’s still trying to do it. He has been for 30-some odd years. He can still hit most if not all of those notes. He doesn’t complain about it, he just stays at it, trying to get to that spot. I’d like to see that happen for him.

SILY: This album was recorded in a number of different studios, and some tracks do sound a bit lower-fi or raw. Did the difference in sounds among the tracks correspond to the different studios you recorded in?

DC: Not really for that reason. What’s really important is trying to get an attitude out of a certain song. It is rock and roll after all. The sound of the studio wasn’t something that dictated the direction.

SILY: At what point did you decide to name the album after the title track?

DC: That song, the first time I heard it, it was one of those that Steve said, “Listen to this!” He had the chorus and the lyrics. [sings] “For all the money in the world, girl / For all the kisses in the sea, baby...” I went, “That’s a hit.” Whenever I play that song for people, they all say, “That’s a natural hit.” Being a shuffle adds a lot to do with it. Shuffles have a magic to them. You just can’t help but tap your foot. Your body moves with it. The approach to have it be a shuffle is right up my alley. Creedence didn’t ever do one, and I always wanted to have a shuffle to record. There it was! It was a natural as the first song on the record. The second one that’s out now is a different type of song, to show the album’s versatility, but I had an inkling that it might be a good idea to name it after the first song on the album.

SILY: At what point did you come up with the order of the tracks?

DC: Listening. [laughs] That’s very important. Again, they’re like chapters in a book or story. I did a lot of shuffling around--there’s that shuffle again--seeing which order played best. It took a while, but that’s something worth spending time on. You want to get it right.

SILY: You’ve said any of these songs could be a single. Do you have a favorite?

DC: [The title track] is probably my favorite for that reason. It’s simplistic in its style, and usually, those are the best ones, the easiest ones to understand, though everybody has their own understanding of music. It is art; you can look at a painting, and 10 different people can have different opinions on it. It’s the same with music. Each song has a different meaning to a different person. That’s great; that way you can touch millions of people instead of 10.

SILY: What’s the story behind the album art?

DC: The story behind the album art is my son [Grady Clifford] did it and I needed a cover. That’s it! I didn’t tell him anything. When I saw it for the first time, I just went, “Wow!” He’s very talented. He did the Revisited cover. Whenever I need art, I don’t tell him what to do. He just does it. My wife [Laurie Clifford] is an artist, too. She did the artwork for [CCR]’s first album. Very recently, she got it in the de Young Museum. They had a show of album covers from the 60′s. The Clifford family has a drummer and artists. One of the things about going from vinyl to CDs is the art is a pretty good size. I miss a lot of aspects of the packaging. I have a couple of good album cover folks within the confines of the house here.

SILY: What’s next from the vault?

DC: A project I did with the same songwriting concept. Two of us did all the writing. The other guy was Bobby Whitlock. I’ve got a Bobby Whitlock album with a group we had for a short while. Bobby’s wife didn’t like living in the East Bay. She wanted to live in the Northeast. Happy wife, happy life, so we had to split when we were close to getting a deal. Another addition to Cosmo’s Vault!

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1962dude420-blog · 3 years

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Today we remember the passing of Peter Green who Died: July 25, 2020 in Canvey Island, Essex, England

Peter Allen Greenbaum (29 October 1946 – 25 July 2020), known professionally as Peter Green, was an English blues rock singer-songwriter and guitarist. As the founder of Fleetwood Mac, he was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1998. Green's songs, such as "Albatross", "Black Magic Woman", "Oh Well", "The Green Manalishi (With the Two Prong Crown)" and "Man of the World", appeared on singles charts, and several have been adapted by a variety of musicians.

Green was a major figure in the "second great epoch" of the British blues movement. Eric Clapton praised his guitar playing, and B.B. King commented, "He has the sweetest tone I ever heard; he was the only one who gave me the cold sweats." Green was interested in expressing emotion in his songs, rather than showing off how fast he could play. His trademark sound included string bending, vibrato, and economy of style.

In June 1996, Green was voted the third-best guitarist of all time in Mojo magazine. In 2015, Rolling Stone ranked him at number 58 in its list of the "100 Greatest Guitarists of All Time". Green's tone on the instrumental "The Super-Natural" was rated as one of the 50 greatest of all time by Guitar Player in 2004.

Peter Allen Greenbaum was born in Bethnal Green, London, on 29 October 1946, into a Jewish family, the youngest of Joe and Ann Greenbaum's four children. His brother, Michael, taught him his first guitar chords and by the age of 11 Green was teaching himself. He began playing professionally by the age of 15, while working for a number of East London shipping companies. He first played bass guitar in a band called Bobby Dennis and the Dominoes, which performed pop chart covers and rock 'n' roll standards, including Shadows covers. He later stated that Hank Marvin was his guitar hero and he played the Shadows' song "Midnight" on the 1996 tribute album Twang. He went on to join a rhythm and blues outfit, the Muskrats, then a band called the Tridents in which he played bass. By Christmas 1965 Green was playing lead guitar in Peter Bardens' band "Peter B's Looners", where he met drummer Mick Fleetwood. It was with Peter B's Looners that he made his recording début with the single "If You Wanna Be Happy" with "Jodrell Blues" as a B-side. His recording of "If You Wanna Be Happy" was an instrumental cover of a song by Jimmy Soul. In 1966, Green and some other members of Peter B's Looners formed another act, Shotgun Express, a Motown-style soul band which also included Rod Stewart, but Green left the group after a few months.

In October 1965, before joining Bardens' group, Green had the opportunity to fill in for Eric Clapton in John Mayall & the Bluesbreakers for four gigs. Soon afterwards, when Clapton left the Bluesbreakers, Green became a full-time member of Mayall's band from July 1966. Green made his recording debut with the Bluesbreakers in 1966 on the album A Hard Road (1967), which featured two of his own compositions, "The Same Way" and "The Supernatural". The latter was one of Green's first instrumentals, which would soon become a trademark. So proficient was he that his musician friends bestowed upon him the nickname "The Green God". In 1967, Green decided to form his own blues band and left the Bluesbreakers.

Green's new band, with former Bluesbreaker Mick Fleetwood on drums and Jeremy Spencer on guitar, was initially called "Peter Green's Fleetwood Mac featuring Jeremy Spencer". Bob Brunning was temporarily employed on bass guitar (Green's first choice, Bluesbreakers' bassist John McVie, was not yet ready to join the band). Within a month they played at the Windsor National Jazz and Blues Festival in August 1967, and were quickly signed to Mike Vernon's Blue Horizon label. Their repertoire consisted mainly of blues covers and originals, mostly written by Green, but some were written by slide guitarist Jeremy Spencer. The band's first single, Spencer's "I Believe My Time Ain't Long" with Green's "Rambling Pony" as a B-side, did not chart but their eponymous debut album made a significant impression, remaining in the British charts for 37 weeks. By September 1967, John McVie had replaced Brunning.

Although classic blues covers and blues-styled originals remained prominent in the band's repertoire through this period, Green rapidly blossomed as a songwriter and contributed many successful original compositions from 1968 onwards. The songs chosen for single release showed Green's style gradually moving away from the group's blues roots into new musical territory. Their second studio album Mr. Wonderful was released in 1968 and continued the formula of the first album. In the same year they scored a hit with Green's "Black Magic Woman" (later covered by Santana), followed by the guitar instrumental "Albatross" (1969), which reached number one in the British singles charts. More hits written by Green followed, including "Oh Well", "Man of the World" (both 1969) and the ominous "The Green Manalishi" (1970). The double album Blues Jam in Chicago (1969) was recorded at the Chess Records Ter-Mar Studio in Chicago. There, under the joint supervision of Vernon and Marshall Chess, they recorded with some of their American blues heroes including Otis Spann, Big Walter Horton, Willie Dixon, J. T. Brown and Buddy Guy.

While touring Europe in late March 1970, Green took LSD at a party at a commune in Munich, an incident cited by Fleetwood Mac manager Clifford Davis as the crucial point in his mental decline. Communard Rainer Langhans mentions in his autobiography that he and Uschi Obermaier met Green in Munich, where they invited him to their Highfisch-Kommune. Fleetwood Mac roadie Dinky Dawson remembers that Green went to the party with another roadie, Dennis Keane, and that when Keane returned to the band's hotel to explain that Green would not leave the commune, Keane, Dawson and Mick Fleetwood travelled there to fetch him. By contrast, Green stated that he had fond memories of jamming at the commune when speaking in 2009: "I had a good play there, it was great, someone recorded it, they gave me a tape. There were people playing along, a few of us just fooling around and it was... yeah it was great." He told Jeremy Spencer at the time "That's the most spiritual music I've ever recorded in my life." After a final performance on 20 May 1970, Green left Fleetwood Mac.

Green was eventually diagnosed with schizophrenia and spent time in psychiatric hospitals undergoing electroconvulsive therapy during the mid-1970s. Many sources attest to his lethargic, trancelike state during this period. In 1977, Green was arrested for threatening his accountant David Simmons with a shotgun. The exact circumstances are the subject of much speculation, the most famous being that Green wanted Simmons to stop sending money to him. In the 2011 BBC documentary Peter Green: Man of the World, Green stated that at the time he had just returned from Canada needing money and that, during a telephone conversation with his accounts manager, he alluded to the fact that he had brought back a gun from his travels. His accounts manager promptly called the police, who surrounded Green's house.

In 1979, Green began to re-emerge professionally. With the help of his brother Michael, he was signed to Peter Vernon-Kell's PVK label, and produced a string of solo albums starting with 1979's In the Skies. He also made an uncredited appearance on Fleetwood Mac's double album Tusk, on the song "Brown Eyes", released the same year.

In 1981, Green contributed to "Rattlesnake Shake" and "Super Brains" on Mick Fleetwood's solo album The Visitor. He recorded various sessions with a number of other musicians notably the Katmandu album A Case for the Blues with Ray Dorset of Mungo Jerry, Vincent Crane from The Crazy World of Arthur Brown and Len Surtees of The Nashville Teens. Despite attempts by Gibson Guitar Corporation to start talks about producing a "Peter Green signature Les Paul" guitar, Green's instrument of choice at this time was a Gibson Howard Roberts Fusion guitar. In 1986, Peter and his brother Micky contributed to the album A Touch of Sunburn by Lawrie 'The Raven' Gaines (under the group name 'The Enemy Within'). This album has been reissued many times under such titles as Post Modern Blues and Peter Green and Mick Green – Two Greens Make a Blues, often crediting Pirates guitarist Mick Green.

In 1988 Green was quoted as saying: "I'm at present recuperating from treatment for taking drugs. It was drugs that influenced me a lot. I took more than I intended to. I took LSD eight or nine times. The effect of that stuff lasts so long ... I wanted to give away all my money ... I went kind of holy – no, not holy, religious. I thought I could do it, I thought I was all right on drugs. My failing!"

Enduring periods of mental illness and destitution throughout the 1970s and 1980s, Green moved in with his older brother Len and Len's wife Gloria, and his mother in their house in Great Yarmouth, where a process of recovery began. He lived for a period on Canvey Island, Essex.

Green married Jane Samuels in January 1978; the couple divorced in 1979. They had a daughter, Rosebud(born 1978).

Green died on July 25, 2020 at the age of 73.

#July 25 #2020 #R.I.P.#Peter Green #Fleetwood Mac #The Original Fleetwood Mac

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astrophysicist-guitar-god · 3 years

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I was curious if Jimi Hendrix had ever played in Columbus, and it turns out that he did, one show in March 1968.

I found two stories about it, one in the Columbus Dispatch marking the 50th anniversary of the show, and this one, about Hendrix hanging out with one of the local support bands afterwards, and partying very wholesomely.

I. Love. This.

The night Jimi Hendrix partied with the Dantes in Linden

By Eric Lyttle, Editor, Columbus Monthly

Posted Mar 3, 2018 at 1:45 PM

Fifty years ago tonight, Jimi Hendrix was sitting on the floor inside a small, nearly empty house in Linden enjoying a post-concert glass of red wine. No, not London. Linden. As in the working class neighborhood of northeast Columbus.

Lynn Wehr doesn’t remember much about the show itself. Neither does Barry Hayden. The two were members of the Dantes, arguably the most popular local band in Columbus at the time. The Dantes served as the warmup act for Hendrix that night, March 3, 1968, at Vets Memorial Auditorium on West Broad Street, just across the Scioto River from City Hall.

Wehr, now 71 and living in Delaware County as a retired T. Marzetti Co. executive, thinks he watched the flamboyant rock guitarist from the side of the stage. ��I don’t even remember what he played,” says Wehr. “I remember there was a cover or two. I believe he did ‘Hang On Sloopy.’ ”

Hayden says he couldn’t even see Hendrix. “I was stage left, between the second or third curtain,” says Hayden, now 70 and retired in Powell after arranging guided tours of the Ohio Statehouse for nearly 20 years. “I had a straight-on shot of Mitch Mitchell’s kick-drum foot. It was the fastest kick-drum foot I’d ever seen,” Hayden says of the Jimi Hendrix Experience’s drummer. “I watched that all night and couldn’t believe how he did it.”

But before the show and after—that they both remember.

Before the show, all the bands on the bill—including Soft Machine, progenitors of England’s prog-rock scene, and Four O’Clock Balloon, another local Columbus favorite—shared the same dressing room. Hayden, the Dantes’ boyish, blond heartthrob of a lead singer, remembers that he wore a silk scarf around his neck that night. When Hendrix entered the dressing room, he, too, was wearing a scarf. “But it was tied differently,” Hayden says. “I kept looking at it, trying to figure it out. I finally went over to him and asked him about it. He says, ‘You’re tying it like an American ties it.’ I did the crossover thing, like a necktie. He says, ‘Let me show you how the British tie it.’ And he showed me. And I tied it like Jimi forever after that. What the hell? If Jimi Hendrix says this is the way you’re supposed to do it, that’s the way you do it. It’s not open debate.”

After the scarf-tying lesson, Wehr, the Dantes’ rhythm guitarist, remembers, “Barry said, ‘Hey, we’re having a party afterward. Would you guys like to come?’ Mitch Mitchell and [Hendrix bass player] Noel Redding immediately said, ‘No.’ But Hendrix said, ‘Yes.’ We were like, ‘Wow. OK.’ ”

After the show, Wehr arranged to pick up Hendrix at the Christopher Inn, the city’s iconic cylindrical hotel on Broad Street, where the Experience was staying, and take him back to the house on Howey Road, a couple of blocks south of Hudson Street, that the Dantes used as a party house and rehearsal space.

“We get to the Christopher Inn—I think Jack White, the drummer for Four O’Clock Balloon was with me—and it’s late, probably after midnight, and there’s one guy at the desk,” Wehr says. “We told him we were there to pick up Jimi Hendrix. Here we were, a couple of guys in polka-dot pants and long hair. I’m sure we looked like groupies. And the guy at the desk says, ‘He’s not staying here.’ But we were like, ‘Look, we just were on the show with him at Vets, we told him we’d pick him up.’ We must have been convincing enough, because the guy picks up the phone and makes a call. Then he turns around, kind of sheepish like, and tells us, ‘He’ll be right down.’ ”

“Not five minutes later, the elevator doors open and out steps Hendrix, colorful, flowing clothes, a big hat with a big feather in it, completely dressed the part,” says Wehr.

Hendrix climbed in the passenger seat of the Dantemobile, a blue Chevy Caprice station wagon with “Dantes” in letters down the side. “We started down High Street, and when we got to campus, students were still out doing their thing,” says Wehr. “Every time we’d stop at a stop light, they’d see the Dantes car, turn and look and see Hendrix sitting in the passenger seat, and start running. The light would change and I’d speed away before they could catch us, until the next light, and the same thing would happen. We were like the Pied Piper, with kids running after us down High Street.”

The Dantes’ Howey Street house wasn’t much—nothing but a few mattresses thrown on the floor, egg cartons stapled to the walls of the basement to help muffle the sound during rehearsals. “We basically had nothing to offer him,” says Wehr. “We asked what he’d like, and he said he’d enjoy a glass of red wine. We all kind of looked at each other and thought, ‘What do we do now?’ Fortunately, one of the girls there said she lived close and could get a bottle. In short order, she came back with a bottle that she probably took from her parents. We sat around on the floor and talked and drank the bottle.”

“There were no drugs of any kind, nothing crazy,” Wehr says. “He was really soft-spoken, nice, mild-mannered—nothing like the guitar-burning wild man you’d see on stage. I think we just talked about music. He wasn’t put out. I think he genuinely wanted to be there. It was a scene.”

“After about an hour or so, he says, ‘Hey, I’ve really enjoyed being with you guys but have to get up early,’ ” Wehr says. “I think he had a gig in New York the next day. So we got in the car and I drove him back to the Christopher Inn.”

Both Wehr and Hayden say there was no idol worship—no photos, no autographs. They weren’t starry-eyed teens. They were in their early 20s, only a couple of years younger than Hendrix. They’d opened for other big names, had toured the country and had enjoyed their share of success. Their first single, “Can’t Get Enough of Your Love,” had cracked the Billboard Top 40 nationally and had become the No. 1 song in the Columbus market in 1966, pushing ”(You’re My) Soul and Inspiration” by the Righteous Brothers off the mark.

“I looked at it like we were all peers,” says Hayden. “It was another gig. We were happy about it for sure, because we liked him. But we basically had the same clothes, the same gear.”

They thought it would last forever. It didn’t. Within two years, Hendrix was dead of an overdose, and the Dantes were done. “I realize now, in later years, it was a big deal. It’s cool. I’m glad I get to talk about it now,” says Hayden. “But I miss it. It’s not the same now as it was. I liked it better then. I feel bad for anybody who didn’t grow up when we did. Being a teenager was just about the best thing you could be. We ruled. To be truthful, if you brought a time machine to my house, I’d set it for 1964 and leave right now.”

I wanted to include a link to the venue, but the old Vet’s Memorial has since been demolished to make way for a brand new national Vet’s museum on the same spot, and that’s mostly what I’m finding. But! Here’s an interesting article (with a picture) about the politics behind tearing down what was a pretty major landmark in Columbus to make way for the new building.

And! To make a long post longer, the shows before and after Columbus on that tour; from setlist.fm:

March 2, 1968: Hunter College Assembly Hall, New York, NY (two shows)

March 3, 1968: Veterans Memorial Auditorium, Columbus, OH

March 4, 1968: Paul's The Scene, New York, NY

March 5, 1968: Paul's The Scene, New York, NY

Looking over his entire concert schedule, he must have been exhausted. I hope he enjoyed hanging out with a local band for a little while, just drinking a little wine and talking. He probably needed it. :-(

#Jimi Hendrix #The Dantes #there's so much about this that I love #and so much that is sad #his manager was a jackass and a half #Columbus #Columbus Ohio #a rare non-Brian post #a rare non-Queen post

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afreesworn · 4 years

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3: Muster

“Seriously? Her?”

Shael’s incredulous question was probably on everyone’s minds, they were just not giving voice to it. At least, that was what Nabi assumed. But as silence started to settle in rather awkwardly amongst them all, Nabi was starting to question her own idea.

It was a strange notion to begin with, that this extra credit club— it was a nice way of saying detention class — showcase their own talents with an act in the spring festival. It was teacher Batu’s idea, to draw more attention to their strategy based dice game that, surprisingly, had captured the interest of everyone in the group. While it was a learning curve for everyone, since they started this exercise, everyone who had rolled up a character began to attend the after school sessions faithfully. Even Ghoa, who feigned disinterest at the start, started to show up with her own personalized jeweled dice with a decorated case for it, that even had her own initials carved into it.

“What? If I am going to play, I am going to play in style,” the Mankhad purred. “I know these beauties will bring me luck.”

Shael rolled her eyes at her, but Nabi caught her arching her brows when Ghoa’s first few rolls were in the high teens. A few days later, Shael too showed up with her own set of steel etched dice, that she proudly told Nabi she won in a game.

Jude only snorted his disdain at the notion of spending any money on something they were forced to do for school credit, but when the game began, Nabi noticed his intense concentration and focus. He wanted to win, and was not shy about pointing out errors that others were making.

He was the first to scoff at Nabi when she consciously made a decision that didn’t favor the party. “But… my character likes animals! She wouldn’t want them hurt!” Nabi explained. Surprisingly, she expected more derision from him, but when their teacher gave her extra points for staying faithful to one of her character “traits”, everyone took note, reviewing their own character’s flaws and inclinations. Jude said nothing else on the matter, and Ghoa started to make extra effort in bringing to life her own character’s lively persona.

Nabi couldn’t say the party’s quest went smoothly always; it was a mixed bag of mistakes, hard-earned lessons, and surprises. But when they achieved victory over an opponent while also learning more about each other’s characters, none could deny the air of satisfaction that lifted them all.

Except Pjel. The viera maintained her stoic silence. She made her moves on the board without any fanfare, and her character being mute, she stuck to that trait religiously. She never spoke a word, in character or out. But her rolls were impeccable and she was fearless in battle. There was no doubt that the group could not have succeeded without her.

Nabi was still unsure her reason for being in detention, whether she missed classes, had a failing grade, or if it was for other disciplinary reasons. Every time she tried to strike up a conversation with Pjel, she was just met with silence and a blank stare.

So when teacher Batu put on the group their next task, to put together an act at the spring festival, everyone stared at him dumbfounded. Ghoa laughed bemusedly, while Shael rolled her eyes again. Jude muttered and Pjel, as usual, said nothing on the matter. But once the session was over and their teacher left them to their own devices, protests and gripes began to rumble amongst them.

That’s when Nabi injected the idea about performing a song.

“What… like a band?” Shael snorted out loud.

“Wh-why not?” Nabi blinked, eyes wide. “You play in a band, the bass guitar right?”

The Highlander immediately narrowed her eyes, as if warning not to share too much. “Yeah well… we broke up a few months back.”

“A ridiculous idea,” Ghoa hummed. “I can’t imagine doing death metal or whatever you call music.”

“You have a lovely singing voice, Ghoa!” Nabi quickly interjected before Shael retorted back at the Mankhad. “I heard you at the last Starlight festival.”

“Oh… that!” Ghoa waved her off with a chuckle, but her smile widened. “That wasn’t even my best. You should see some of my posts on--”

“Yer actually serious,” Shael cut her off, staring at Nabi. “Ya can’t just wave yer hand and put a band together. Okay so ya got a bass and singer. Ya need drums and lead guitar and--”

Shael was interrupted yet again when sounds of tapping drew all of their attention. Pjel was tapping her feet and gloved hands were percussing over the edge of the table. And as they all stared in disbelief, the viera proceeded to slap and bang on the wooden table, the plastic chair and the floor with her hands and feet. And the rhythm that was starting to fill the room, it made Nabi grin horn to horn.

“Seriously? Her?”

Nabi shrugged exaggeratedly at Shael, looking both surprised and delighted. “We have… our drummer!” She laughed with a sweep of her hand at Pjel.

“Pfttt.” Shael threw her hands in the air. “Well, none o’ that be of any use unless ya got a lead guitar.”

Nabi chewed her lips and started to look around the room.

“Well, no way we can count on him,” Ghoa groaned, rolling her eyes at the door. Jude had already left, he never lingered long after these sessions were over. Nabi knew not where he had to go, but he always left in a hurry. “Besides, I doubt the likes of him knows a thing about carrying a tune or holding anything other than a knife or a bottle of booze.”

“The idea was ridiculous, anyroad,” Shael added, gathering her bag. “No way we can muster a band together.” She tutted with a frown. “It’s just one of teacher’s crazy ideas. Again.” She started out the door.

Nabi sighed, her shoulders sinking. And as everyone else started to leave the classroom, she hurriedly picked up her own books and followed.

But the idea refused to leave her.

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dustedmagazine · 3 years

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Slept Ons: The Best Records of 2020 That We Never Got Around To

Tattoos and shorts! How did we miss the Oily Boys?

It happens pretty much every year. After much fussing and second-guessing, the year-end list gets finalized, set in stone really, encapsulating 12 months of enthusiastic listening, and surely these are the best ten records anyone could find, right? Right? And then, a day or a week later, someone else puts up their list or records their year-end radio show, and there it is, the record you could have loved and pushed and written about…if only you’d known about it. My self-kick in the shins came during Joe Belock’s 2020 round-up on WFMU when he played the Chats. Others on our staff knew, earlier on, that they weren’t writing about records they loved for whatever reason — work, family, mp3 overload, etc. Except now they are. Here. Now. Enjoy.

Contributors include me (Jennifer Kelly), Eric McDowell, Jonathan Shaw, Justin Cober-Lake, Bill Meyer, Bryon Hayes, Ian Mathers, Andrew Forell, Michael Rosenstein and Patrick Masterson.

The Chats — High Risk Behavior (Bargain Bin)

High Risk Behaviour by The Chats

Cartoonishly primitive and gleefully out of luck, The Chats hurl Molotov cocktails of punk, bright and exploding even as they come. They’re from Australia, which totally makes sense; there’s a sunny, health-care-subsidized, devil-may-care vibe to their down-on-their luck stories. Musically, the songs are stripped down like Billy Childish, sped up like the Ramones, brute simple like Eddy Current Suppression Ring. Most of them are about alcohol: drinking, being drunk, getting arrested for being drunk, eating while drunk…etc. etc. But there’s an art to singing about getting hammered, and few manage the butt-headed conviction of “Drunk & Disorderly.” Its jungle rhythms, vicious, saw-toothed bass, quick knife jabs of guitar frame an all-hands drum-shocked chant: “Relaxation, mood alteration, boredom leads to intoxication.” Later singer Eamon Sandwith cuts right to the point about romance with the couplet, “I was cautious, double wrapped, but still I got the clap.” The album’s highlights include the most belligerently glorious song ever about cyber-fraud in “Identity Theft,” whose shout along chorus buoys you up, even as the dark web drains your savings account dry. The album strings together a laundry list of dead-end, unfortunate situations, one after another truly hopeless developments, but nonetheless it explodes with joy. Bandcamp says the guitar player has already left—so you’re too late to see the Chats live—but it must have been fun while it lasted.

Jennifer Kelly

Oliver Coates — skins n slime (RVNG Intl)

skins n slime by Oliver Coates

2020 was a year of loss, of losing, of feeling lost. Whether weathering the despair of illness and death, the discomfort of displacement or the drift of temporal reverie, English cellist Oliver Coates creates music to reflect all this and more on skins n slime. Using modulators, loops and effects, Coates employs elements from drone, shoegaze and industrial to extend the range of the cello and conjure otherworldly sounds of crushing intensity and great beauty. Beneath the layering, distortion and dissonance, the human element remains strong. The tactility of fingers and bow on strings and the expressive essence of tone form the core of Coates composition and performance. If his experiments seem a willful swipe at the restrictions of the classical world from whence he came, the visceral power of a track like “Reunification 2018”, which hunkers in the same netherworld as anything by Deathprod or Lawrence English, the liminal, static bedecked ache of “Honey” and the unadorned minimalism of “Caretaker Part 1 (Breathing)” are works of a serious talent. skins n slime is an album to sit with and soak in; allow it to percolate and permeate and you’ll find yourself forgetting the outside world, if only for a while.

Andrew Forell

Bertrand Denzler / Antonin Gerbal — Sbatax (Umlaut Records)

Sbatax by Denzler - Gerbal

Tenor sax player Bertrand Denzler and drummer Antonin Gerbal released this duo recording last summer which slipped under the radar of many listeners. Denzler is as likely to be heard these days composing and performing pieces by others in the French ensemble ONCEIM, playing solo, or in settings for quiet improvisation. But he’s been burning it up as a free jazz player for years now as well. Gerbal also casts a broad net, as a member of ONCEIM, deconstructing free bop in the group Peeping Tom, or recontextualizing the music of Ahmed Abdul-Malik along with Pat Thomas, Joel Grip and Seymour Wright in the group Ahmed amongst many other projects. The two have worked together in a variety of contexts for a decade now, recording a fantastic duo back in 2014. Sbatax, recorded five years later at a live performance in Berlin is a worthy follow-up.

Gerbal attacks his kit with ferocity out of the gate, with slashing cymbals and thundering kit, cascading along with drubbing momentum. Denzler charges in with a husky, jagged, repeated motif which he loops and teases apart, matching the caterwauling vigor of his partner straightaway. Over the course of this 40-minute outing, one can hear the two lock in, coursing forward with mounting intensity. Denzler increasingly peppers his playing with trenchant blasts and rasping salvos, riding along on Gerbal’s torrential fusillades. Throughout, one can hear the two dive deep in to free jazz traditions while shaping the arc of the improvisation with an acute ear toward the overall form of the piece. Midway through, Denzler steps back for a torrid drum solo, then jumps back in with renewed dynamism as the two ride waves of commanding potency and focus to a rousing conclusion, goaded on by the cheering audience. Anyone wondering whether there is still life in the tenor/drum duo format should dig this one up.

Michael Rosenstein

Kaelin Ellis — After Thoughts (self-released)

After Thoughts by KAELIN ELLIS

To be sure, “slept on” hardly characterizes Kaelin Ellis in 2020. After a trickle of lone tracks in the first months of the year, a Twitter video posted by the 23-year-old producer and multi-instrumentalist caught the attention of Lupe Fiasco, quickly precipitating the joint EP House. It’s a catchy story from any number of angles — the star-powered “discovery” of a young talent, the interconnectedness of the digital age, the silver linings of the COVID-19 pandemic — but it risks overshadowing Ellis’s two 2020 solo records: Moments, released in the lead-up to House, and After Thoughts, released in October. It doesn’t help that each album’s dozen tracks scarcely add up to as many minutes, or that the producer’s titles deliberately downplay the results. And some, of course, will judge these jazzy, deeply soulful beats only against their potential as platforms for some other, more extroverted artist. “I’d like to think I’m a jack of all trades,” Ellis told one interviewer, “but in all honesty my specialty is creating a space for others to stand out.”

Yet as with all small, good things, there’s reward in savoring these miniatures on their own terms, and After Thoughts in particular proved an unexpected retreat from last fall’s anxieties. Ellis has a poet’s gift for distillation and juxtaposition, a director’s knack for pathos and dramatic sequencing — powers that combine to somehow render a fully realized world. As fleeting as it is, Ellis’s work communicates a generosity of care and concentration, opening a space for others not just to stand out but also to settle in.

Eric McDowell

Lloyd Miller with Ian Camp and Adam Michael Terry — At the Ends of the World

At the Ends of the World by Lloyd Miller with Ian Camp and Adam Michael Terry

Miller and company fuse the feel of a contemporary classical concert with eastern modalities and instrumentation. The recordings sound live off the floor, and give a welcome sense of space and detail to the sensitive playing. Miller has explored the intersection between Persian and other cultural traditions and jazz through the lens of academic scholarship and recorded output since the 1960s. With this release, the performances linger in a space where vibe is as important as compositional structure. The results revel in the beauty when seemingly unrelated musical ideas emerge together in the same moment, with startling results.

Arthur Krumins

Oily Boys — Cro Memory Grin (Cool Death)

Cro Memory Grin by Oily Boys

The title of this 2020 LP by Australian punks Oily Boys sounds like a pun on “Cro-Magnon,” an outmoded scientific name for early humans. It’s apt: the music is smarter than knuckle-dragger beatdown or run-of-the-mill powerviolence, but still driven by a rancorous, id-bound savagery. The smarts are just perceptible enough to keep things pretty interesting. Some of the noisier, droning and semi-melodic stretches of Cro Memory Grin recall the records made by the Men (especially Leave Home) before they decided to try to make like Uncle Tupelo, or some lesser version of the Hold Steady. Oily Boys inhabit a darker sensibility, and their music is more profoundly bonkers than anything those other bands got up to. Aggro, discordant punk; flagellating hardcore burners; psych-rock-adjacent sonic exorcisms — you get it all, sometimes in a single five-minute passage of Cro Memory Grin (check out the sequence from “Lizard Scheme” to “Heat Harmony” to “Stick Him.” Yikes). A bunch of the tunes spill over into one another, feedback and sustain jumping the gap from one track to the next, which gives the record a live vibe. It feels volatile and sweaty. The ill intent and unmitigated nastiness accumulate into a palpable force, tainting the air and leaving stains on your tee shirt. Oily Boys have been kicking around Sydney’s punk scene since at least 2014, but this is their first full-length record. One hopes they can continue to play with this degree of possessed abandon without completing burning themselves to down to smoldering cinders. At least long enough to record some more music.

Jonathan Shaw

Dougie Poole — The Freelancer's Blues (Wharf Cat)

The Freelancer's Blues by Dougie Poole

A cursory listen might misconstrue the heart of Dougie Poole's second album, The Freelancer's Blues. When he mixes his wobbly country sound with lyrics like those in “Vaping on the Job,” it sounds like genre play, a smirking look at millennial life through an urban cowboy's vintage sound. Poole does target a particular set of issues, but mapping them with his own slightly psychedelic country comes with very little of the postmodern itch. His characters feel just as troubled as anyone coming out of 1970s Nashville, and as Poole explores these lives with wit and empathy, the songs quickly find their resonance.

The album, though it wouldn't reach for pretentious terms, carries an existential problem at its center. Poole circles around the fundamental void: work deadens, relocation doesn't help, spiritual pursuits falter, intelligence burdens, and even the drugs don't help. When Poole finally gets the title track, the preceding album gives his confession extra weight, a mix of life's strictures and personal limitation combining for a crisis best avoided but wonderfully shared. The Freelancer's Blues comes rich in Nashville tradition but finds an ideal fit in its contemporary place, likely providing a soundtrack for a variety of times and spaces yet to come.

Justin Cober-Lake

Schlippenbach Quartett — Three Nails Left (Corbett Vs. Dempsey)

You might say that this record has been slept on twice. The second recording to be released by the Alexander von Schlippenbach, Evan Parker and Paul Lovens (augmented this time by Peter Kowald) was released in 1975, and didn’t get a second pressing — on vinyl — until 2019. So, Corbett Vs. Dempsey stepped up last summer, it had never been on CD. But this writer was so stumped on how to relate how intense, startling, and unlike any other free improvisation it was and is, that he just… slept on it. Until now. Even if you know this band, if you don’t know this album, well, it’s time you got acquainted.

Bill Meyer

Stonegrass — Stonegrass (Cosmic Range)

STONEGRASS by Stonegrass

Released on the cusp of a tentative re-opening for the city of Toronto after two months of lock-down, this slab of psychedelic funk-rock was the perfect antidote to the COVID blues when it arrived at the tail end of a Spring spent in near-isolation. The jam sessions that became Stonegrass were also a new beginning for multi-instrumentalist Matthew “Doc” Dunn and drummer Jay Anderson, who reignited a spirit of collaboration after a decade of sonic estrangement following the demise of their Spiritual Sky Blues Band project. Listening to these songs, you’d never know they spent any time apart. The tight, bottom-wagging jams on offer are evidence that these two are joined together at the third eye. Anderson’s grooves run deep, and Dunn — whether he’s traipsing along on guitar, keys or flutes — is right there with him. There’s enough fuzz here to satiate the heads, but the real treat here is the rhythmic interplay. Strap in and prepare to get down.

Bryon Hayes

Bob Vylan — We Live Here EP (Venn Records)

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Bob Vylan flew under the radar in 2020 successfully enough that when someone nominated them for the best of 2020 poll in Tom Ewing’s Peoples’ Pop Polls project on Twitter (each month a different year or category gets voted on in World Cup-style brackets, it’s great fun and only occasionally maddening), most of the reaction was “is that one a typo?” Nobody had that response after listening to “We Live Here” — my wife also participates in the poll, so we just play all the candidates in our apartment, and Bob Vylan was the first time both of our jaws dropped in amazement; the song got played about ten times in a row at that point. Bobby (vocals/guitar/production) and Bobbie (drums/“spiritual inspiration”) Vylan’s 18-minute EP lives up to that title track, fireball after fireball aimed directly at the corrupt, crumbling, racist state that seems utterly indifferent to human suffering unless there’s profit in it. Whether it’s the raging catharsis of the title track or the cool, precise hostility of “Lynch Your Leaders,” Bob Vylan have made something vital and essential here, that very much speaks to 2020 but sadly will stay relevant long past it.

Ian Mathers

Working Men’s Club — Working Men’s Club (Heavenly Recordings)

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It’s been evident these past few years that I’ve retreated from music and committed myself to the slower world of books as a way of giving my mind a break from the accelerating madness outside, but I could never really leave my radio family the same way I could never really leave Dusted. Another great example why: A fellow CHIRP volunteer played “John Cooper Clarke” in a December Zoom social I actually managed to catch, and I’ve been addicted to Working Men’s Club’s debut LP from October ever since. The quartet hails from Todmodren, a market town you won’t be surprised upon listening to discover is roughly equidistant between Leeds and Manchester; the album screams Hacienda vibes in its seamless integration of post-punk signifiers and dancefloor style. It’s easy to bandy about names from Rip It Up and Start Again or even The Velvet Underground in 12-minute closer “Angel,” certainly one of the most arresting tracks of the year, but the thing that struck me immediately is that this was the record I’d always anticipated but never got from Factory Floor — smart, aloof and occasionally calculated, yet still fun enough to play for any crowd itching to move. Until the community of a dance party or Working Men’s Club live set is once again possible, patience and a fully formed first album will have to suffice. You’ll have to imagine the part where I corner you at the party to rave about it, I’m afraid.

Patrick Masterson

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