#that and the whole sour album but i digress | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jlf23tumble · 4 years

Note

You are talking about a sitter where Louis can’t even acknowledge that he has primary custody of his own son. Are you really expecting people to believe that this is Louis’s choice or that Eleanor has it harder? I have seen all the gifs and I have never seen Louis as closed off as he was on the deck of the boat in Formantera or fend someone off out of his personal space like he does with Eleanor. He’s warm and affectionate with the people he likes and that doesn’t include Eleanor.

anon 2: So Eleanor is done with the stunt, Louis and his family are done, but nobody could find a way to end the relationship and still release Louis’s album? They’ve been together again 3 years now. Are you telling me the relationship couldn’t have quietly ended 6 months ago? I guess if they did they couldn’t have hauled Eleanor out to the airport for a pap walk when Louis got busted returning from Liam’s birthday in Ibiza. Though it begs the question as to why Louis couldn’t have been there publicly.

anon 3: As though Louis wasn’t high as fuck in Portofino. He wasn’t quite bouncing in the streets like the night with the V for Victory jumper but it was pretty darn close. That’s why they go clubbing so much. The difference between his body language that day and two days later makes it obvious. Then of course in candids she’s always trailing behind him (or vice versa), sitting on the ground ignored, standing next to him at weddings being ignored. He’s never shown her genuine affection this time around.

—————-

I have no idea if these are all from the same team, but I’m gonna group ‘em and give you the shots you want so I can move on with my Forum-venting life. At the end of the day, I don’t care all that much–I’m no hand-wringer–but it really chaps my hide when people go after El for doing her job, so I’ll bite. Ultimately, Louis is in the closet–we can all agree on that point (except for that one harrie I follow, godddd, the times I’ve stared at the wall thanks to her, but I digress). Is it his choice? His team’s? His label’s? All three? Probably! But ultimately, that’s where he is, and that means he has to perform heterosexuality for us all, and god bless him, he’s terrible at it (plus, the smart money is on him dropping an album with at least one ode to long-term love and its struggles), so someone has to play the role of long-term girlfriend. At the moment, this is the lowest-key, lowest-effort girlfriend-for-a-gay-man show in recent memory, but the rancor aimed at ANYONE in this role is, uh, somethin’ else, and the rancor aimed at this girl in particular is, UH, SOMETHIN’ ELSE. I just ate a bag of chocolate-covered espresso beans, which means my ability to weave an articulate narrative for all three of these asks is out the window, so I’ll do this by the numbers instead. Putting it under the cut because I’m probably gonna go long, lmao

anon 1: I have no idea who has primary custody of Louis’s own son, and I have no idea what Louis’s innermost feelings are for Eleanor (spoiler alert: neither do you), but I don’t think you’ve seen gifs or videos or anything past specific edits. And here’s why, check out this evidence of Louis being closed off on the deck of a boat (exhibits a and b). If you want to watch some video in full, you’ll see that the situation seems pretty amiable (cordial, coworkers who don’t hate each other, but hate their current work assignment…if he’s closed off to anything, it’s to the known intrusion of the Daily Mail’s crack video/film/photo squad):

Here we see more proof that Louis isn’t as warm and affectionate with El as he is with other people (again, I read annoying/annoyed sibling vibes, but this was an insane series of photos on every level, you could pick from it all day long):

I get a lot of anons pointing to El’s “sour” disposition and body language (or Louis’s) and reading it as them hating each other. Maybe they hate being filmed for whatever bullshit they’re being filmed for. Maybe they hate all the editing and hand-wringing and social media commentary. But just because you don’t like the overall situation, saying that they hate each other is just as eye-roll-inducing as the Mail saying they’re loved up when they run pictures of them staring in opposite directions. Saying that they aren’t affectionate with each other, yet never looking at pictures beyond those cherry-picked (and tagged) for you is myopic. I guarantee if you watch the full video or set of shots, there’s touching and monkeying around and standing awkwardly and looking pissed off and all of it is done in about five minutes, end of werk assignment, cut and paste as you see fit.

anon 2: A LOT has gone on with Louis’s schedule and album and family, so trying to apply calendars to what “should” have happened (especially since none of us has actually heard the whole album) is the worst kind of speculation (read: wholly uninformed). I’m still gonna bet that this is an album about enduring love in the face of all kinds of struggles, so why would they break up right before it’s released? What sort of promo would that look like? What is Louis gonna say: “Yes, this song is about my girlfriend…Eleanor….who I loved endlessly, we shared a single bed and talked about our hopes and dreams, we truly made it, oh, oops, yeah, we broke up three months ago because my family is “done” with this stunt, stream Walls!” What any of ANY of this has to do with an airport and Ibizia and Liam, I don’t even know, and I’m way too tired to guess.

anon 3: I have no doubt that Louis (and the rest of these men, tbh) is high as a kite and/or slightly tipsy to get through more than half the shit he has to get through. The idea that he always has to be pictured clubbing so he has an excuse to be drunk to get through it is hilarious, though, given that all of them have been drunk at all hours of the day, doing innocuous things, without the need for any kind of excuse to do it. I still imagine it’s stressful and anxiety-provoking because of the situation itself, knowing that you’re going to be filmed and dissected from EVERY angle, that you have to perform heterosexuality in some kind of convincing way. Saying things like “He’s never shown her genuine affection this time around” just proves you haven’t bothered to look at video (when it exists), unedited snapchat vids, photos that aren’t cropped. I mean, NEVER? I hate to break it to you, but none of us looks turned on for 100% of a wedding or at a club…we just don’t have all the footage to show the full picture.

#me: i don't want to deal with anymore El asks #also me: let me just answer all of these and bring a hellstorm my way #i blame those beans!!#the true irony is that i'm not an El champion #i just hateeeeee the misogyny so goddamned much

19 notes · View notes

solarisposting · 5 years

Text

I'm trying to stop talking about myself so much but @kaylor gave me an excuse to KEEP DOING IT

"Go on your music, hit shuffle and report with the first 10 songs that pop up! then tag 10 people!" I'm 乇乂ㄒ尺��, so I'm adding commentary.

Cinderella Story by Plain White T's - ugh one of my ultimate heartbreak angst anthems. Prime lyric: I can't help but feel a little upset about the things you and I never had

Falling Down by Oasis - Look. I have 5,680 songs on my ipod. I'm unfamiliar with SO much of my music library because my version of music discovery is buying CDs with one song I like on 'em. But listening to this? It's fucking rad and I guess I'll have to listen to this whole album later on today. I bought it for The Shock of the Lightning and mostly listen to I'm Outta Time, but I guess I've beeing ~missing out!~

All These Things by Darren Hanlon - Mr. Darren Hanlon has been ruining my life with his music for several years now and I love him and his work SO MUCH. This is one his happier songs and it's so bouncy and light. His lyrics are clever and goofy. I just........LOVE

Crazy Little Thing Called Love by Queen - A perfect encapsulation of those heady crushes you'd get as a teenager where you'd go WILD with emotions! I say that as if that's not how every ~adult crush~ including my current relationship has gone, but I digress! It swings, WOO WOO

Wish You Well by Bernard Fanning - Guitar at the beginning yessss I love. The whole album is fantastic. The vocal runs in this song in particular are SO fun for shower and car singing. An Lyric: Rolling fog into my room, why'd you give up on me so soon?

All Too Well by Taylor Swift - I have many Swiftie mutuals. I wasn't more than a casual listener of hers until reputation came out. My aforementioned mutuals have been screaming praises about this song and the lyrics and the mystique of the "10-minute version" for years. I never understood it until I elected to listen to all of her albums. This song WRECKED ME and I cried to it on the way home from work several times over the course of a month or two because Josh and I were having issues and I'm dramatic. This song is so worth the hype. MAYBE WE GOT LOST IN TRANSLATION. THERE WE ARE AGAIN, AND I LOVED YOU SO. Kill me!!! Also anybody who says Red doesn't have country music influences at all can suck a sour one because this song ALONE clearly does.

My Everything by Owl City - I downloaded the whole album this is off of and like honestly? I have to laugh. It's too religious, which in all fairness, Adam Young is a dedicated Christian and makes beautiful religious pop songs. But I was thinking I'd be getting lyrics like his older stuff because I don't keep up with him. That aside, it's a really lovely worship song and one I would have loved to do when I was in my youth group's worship band in high school. Harmonies to die for.

Can't Slow Down by Jean-Yves Thibaudet - This is from the Pride & Prejudice (2005) score, and I believe it's from a scene in the first ball (before the one at Netherfield). It's light, airy, exuberant, and so pleasing to the ear! It's my sister's current phone alarm, so I get to hear it each morning and whenever she naps in the afternoons or evenings. No complaints there.

I Can Make You Happy by Davy Jones - Josh has an album of songs used in Scooby-Doo, and this is one of them. The whole album is just like murderously nostalgic and great. I've never actually listened to this particular song, but it's so peppy and cute! And I love Davy Jones. He was the singer for The Monkees, his voice is comfort food for the soul, and he was adorable and I totally would have been in love with him if he was bit during my childhood.

Unforgetful You by Jars of Clay - QUINTESSENTIAL ALTERNATIVE CHRISTIAN SOFT ROCK! They're so fucking good and jammy. I've never listened to this song (like I said, huge music library), but it'd make a nice summer running song.

Tags! Uhhh anyone who'd like to do it. Let me know if you do and I don't tag you! @tswizzledude @appalachianetiquette @mielnette @emmmathompson @ashestoashesjc random bag of folks

3 notes · View notes

un-nmd · 7 years

Text

Recent listening—

In which the past 8 months of digression into (for lack of a better word—and note the literary tongs) “Classical” music comes to an end. Not that henceforth the theme will be dropped; only that the consistency of the trend will here be broken.

Steeping in one sphere of music for an extended time results in a complete recalibration in taste, as well as, in this case, the subsequent need for some gateway album or albums to facilitate a reintroduction to (again for lack of a better word) “Popular” music. These albums, now found, and listed in part below, are presently catalysing a frenzied exploration into some of the more difficult niches of the Western output, necessitating future reports.

———

Ween, GodWeenSatan: The Oneness (1990) Followers of the Boognish cite Gener and Deaner’s blood-scrawled makeshift license to do whatever the fuck they want in defence for why Ween’s the greatest band in the world and there’s no-one else like ‘em. One flaw though: yeah you set out to make a farce of all borne from formulae but go too far in the other direction and the once-sweet chaos over-saturates somewhat; you get a blunting of what begun so ideologically incisive. Even vulgarity becomes rather banal especially when you preach it for 9 or so minutes on a rather uninteresting directionless jam like they do on, for example, “L.M.L.Y.P.” (which a certain regent’s probably rolling in his grave because of). And see also “Blackjack” for the same type of creative dearth—which, however, there’s admittedly less of in this, their debut, than on later efforts The Pod and Pure Guava. Generally, those two atrocities aside (those quoted), there’s plenty evidence of songwriting ability—but still, most of it’s hindered in shallow aleatory because they’re too insecure to just let it speak for itself. Reject all pretension and you end up fearing anything that hints of seriousness—and this is what you’re left with. On the other hand I can agree that very few things approach the level of energy they sustain for the better part of 76 minutes. An admirable failure. Subsequent efforts aren’t deserving of equal sympathy—but note I’ve yet to hear The Mollusk. In conclusion, here’s the moral: anarchy in moderation, kids.

Captain Beefheart and The Magic Band, Lick My Decals Off, Baby (1970) The right descriptors are beyond me anyhow, but nothing beats just hearing the eponymous opener with fresh ears and it slowly dawning on you that every lick, every groan, every gesture and outburst in Van Vliet’s (not Igor’s) introductory asymmetric racket was deliberate; predestined, if you will, or just the regular ‘composed’ if you won’t, yes and clinically so, calculatedly so; meticulous in the manner of an archetypal mastermind murderer, of a disturbed psyche wreaking its alien order on social norms, a jagged mind-scape dragging its violent peaks across all we held sacred, all we thought true. For Beefheart in purest form derives from none, takes no catechism; that which was borne from Trout Mask hailed from no familiar land or mapped territory. Here there be dragons—but navigate through with your visionary crew (magic band of brethren) and you’ll find a bit of genius as well. And also you’ll find that the native vocabulary’s somewhat adaptable to your own: take the first vocal cue on “Doctor Dark” (”…mmmmMMMAMA, mama, here come Doctor Da-ark…”) which is every bit as thrilling as a swing band horn entry over a tight groove, only the groove’s been recently diagnosed with cardiac arrythmia and is missing a beat every couple of bars like: 1-2-3-4, 1-2-upbeat!—DOWNbeat! (an old trick but a good one); or later on in the same hear Beefheart’s devilishly sweet break into free-verse at “Black leather lady Lord carried her bags the hell horn hell horn hell horn horn rim crimped“ which likens to Coltrane dropping the head and descending into his sheets of sound only here the backing’s also done the same; or have at the libretto to “Bellerin’ Plain” and tell me it ain’t poetry:

Parapliers the willow dipped Rolled roots gnarled like rakers This hollow hole don’t hold no jokers or fakers … Mah cowcatcher whistled like uh steel flash scream Hose sucked out for water ‘n the wheeldriver sparkled like an Indian flint ‘n the fireman ‘n the brakeman Bent ‘n waved his long red underwear arm all aboard ‘n the lantern flared ‘n the caboose waved uh green gone on

U.S. Maple, Talker (1999) I’m convinced that amidst these black ramblings there lies a thing of beauty. For in the sculpting of time that we call composition, to work the rough away requires cruel chisel, dark magic, a vision unrelenting and its vicious execution; in short, brutality, as opposed to that charlatan’s art which polishes the rough but leaves the true diamond unfound. Hence the dissonance, the noise continuum, the mutant syllables—more horror, indeed, but at each offence to the prude’s ear another veil is torn asunder; dogma’s defeat at the hands of the mysteries of the macabre. Reconsidered, the terrifying turns tranquil and nightmare becomes nocturne; a qualitative inversion via catharsis. And should you cross, it is there on the other side where you’ll find beauty.

Polvo, Today’s Active Lifestyles (1993) Not as drastically subversive as others we’ve seen so far; hear it half-mindedly with ears set to “post-punk” and it’ll pass without impression—but on closer inspection all is not well. There’s qualities amiss, something slightly warped, slightly unsettling; a sour taste creeping just above the threshold. Try and follow the first song for form and it’ll be elusive. How did we get here? You can’t remember. It’s episodic like Mahler but at least in Mahler you usually can discern some sort of mutant sonata-allegro. With this: no such comfort. Question the harmony and you’ll find no answers there either. Out of tune? Perhaps—or perhaps microtonal. Was that a tritone? Yes but not as you know them, not with any rules of approach and resolution, for they make noise for the fun of it, for the feel of it. Whitewashed jams aren’t there to prove some theory about static harmony but rather just because they’re appealing sonic scapes to dwell in. If a certain major triad tastes nice, sure, they’ll put it in, but since they don’t discriminate except by immediate effect, choose any unrelated clashy dissonance and it’ll hold an equal chance of being drafted (perhaps even for right after the triad if they’re feeling particularly whimsical). So the poles mingle haphazardly and in all this ends up lying in an awkward niche between the all-out avant-garde and the regulation math-rock/post-punk of, for example, Preoccupations (f.k.a. Viet Cong) or Omni. But compared to those two this is so much more rewarding.

Sonic Youth, Bad Moon Rising (1985) First four pass mostly without incident then at “Ghost Bitch” night falls and Mrs. Gordon invokes those industrial demons they’ve been wailing on about who awake to an awful pounding and wreak their havoc; mellow jams (or as close to as Moore & Co. can ever get) such as on “I Love Her All the Time” decompose to the unstructured interludes that surround “I’m Insane” which if you are I’d guess it’s because of that bad moon (ya loony). Then the drunkard’s rant outside the kangaroo court that is the first half of “Justice is Might” and the latter half surrendering to a slow-shuffling hazed-out procession of sorts (riff tolling like a bell through thick ashes) with destination: “Death Valley ‘69” where the cute-named Lydia Lunch groans and shrieks like a woman possessed. Hear it and the image that springs to mind involves her buffeting about in some primal dance, in motion sympathetic to inner rage that’s either borrowed or stolen or forced upon her, and she’ll need it all, plus Thurston’s, for what’s for sure the most brutal hook on the whole thing, that at “Coming down / Sadie, I love it / Now, now, now / Death Valley ‘69"—and after those rollicking five minutes there’s really nothing to be said; nothing that would satisfactorily follow them up, which is why nothing did, at least, on the original release.

#ween #captain beefheart #u.s. maple #polvo #sonic youth

1 note · View note