#I think they do a drum machine for their tracks

[novelistparty]

Belarusian cold-wave band Molchat Doma

[todayisafridaynight]

NO RIGHT like I was thinking about that the other day too and Surely Jo does not have a particularly rich inner life... I love that scenario with Ichi dearly though!

But while I was going through times I'd mentioned my dreams earlier, I saw I'd once dreamt that Jo was an avid rhythm gamer lmao

I'd pay an inappropriate amount of money to watch Jo fuck it up on DDR PLEASE that sounds like Such A Dream ☠️☠️

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Daft Punk - Around the World 1997

"Around the World" is a song by French electronic music duo Daft Punk. It was released in April 1997 as the second single from their debut studio album, Homework. The song became a major club hit globally and reached number one on the dance charts in Canada, Spain, the UK, and the US. It also peaked at number one in Iceland and Italy. The song's lyrics solely consist of the words "around the world", repeated on loop for a total of 144 times (80 on the radio edit). In October 2011, NME placed it at number 21 on its list "150 Best Tracks of the Past 15 Years". "Around the World" was featured in one episode of first season of MTV animated series Daria. It was also used in the video games Dance Central 3, NBA 2K13 and the trailers for Ubisoft E3 2007 Rayman Raving Rabbids 2.

Michel Gondry's music video for the song features five groups of characters on a platform representing a vinyl record: four robots walking around in a circle; four tall athletes wearing tracksuits with small prosthetic heads walking up and down stairs; four women dressed like synchronized swimmers moving up and down another set of stairs; four skeletons dancing in the center of the platform; and four mummies dancing in time with the song's drum pattern. This is meant to be a visual representation of the song; each group of characters represents a different instrument. According to Gondry's notes, the robots represent the singing voice; the physicality and small-minded rapidity of the athletes symbolizes the ascending/descending bass guitar; the femininity of the disco girls represents the high-pitched keyboard; the skeletons dance to the guitar line; and the mummies represent the drum machine.

"Around the World" was Gondry's first attempt at bringing organized dancing to his music videos. "I was sick to see choreography being mistreated in videos like filler with fast cutting and fast editing, really shallow. I don't think choreography should be shot in close-ups." The sequence, initially developed by Gondry, was further expanded and streamlined by choreographer Blanca Li.

The music video won Best Dance Video at the International Dance Music Awards, and was nominated for Best Video at the MTV Europe Music Video Awards, and nominated for International Viewer's Choice - MTV Europe at the MTV Video Music Awards. The song was nominated for Best Dance Recording at the Grammy Awards.

"Around the World" received a total of 81,7% yes votes!

[tmbgareok]

My new band consists of two strange girls, and we are thinking of playing to a prerecorded tape machine rhythm track. Do you have any advice or thoughts about the format?

JF: well, it's your project so the general things I would say is do what is interesting to you, and is the boldest expression of your ideas. Pay more attention to what you do well and less to what is happening on the immediate scene. People might say they are into some trend or sound, but as a friend of mine once said "people don't know they want to be surprised." Take advantage of all the ways you can approach stuff (and as I will explain--don't fear getting really small)

___

Okay on to the specifics of working with a track or drum machine.

We had an advantage in that we both sang, and we both played instruments that could be rhythm or melody instruments, and contrasting the possibilities there really helped keep things dynamic.

Our evolution as a band working with tape was pretty simple. We started with pretty elaborate tracks with a lot of varied sounds thinking the sonic range would drive the audiences experience, but over time found it was more effective to just have bass and drums on tape--really pare things down as to not take away from the stuff we were doing live. (there were irresistible exceptions of course, but it did really get pretty spare.)

Although it never felt too too close, I think our approach even from the beginning was always kinda negatively informed by "track acts" (the promo shows in nightclubs and discos where singers would jump on stage or by the DJ and sing over--or in some cases along--with their record or some remixed version of their record) Although this was all before Milli Vanilli, there was a general notion that these performances were too canned, so we were informed by that, and tried to keep as much action going in our own playing as possible.

I would also say, make your track or computer set up small, simple and as completely bullet-proof as possible. Although home computing and MIDI were just emerging when we started, there were sequencing boxes in the world and other musicians did suggest we would benefit from diving into those formats for our live show, but sync issues and general instability just made the tape seems more reliable/durable.

You also should have a plan b and maybe even a plan c for when you have the inevitable technical issue. (like a shiny a cappella or other unaccompanied number you might be saving for a second encore but is available to pull out that really shines) When the Fates pulled the rug on your act, the audience will be forever grateful that you anticipated this and can keep your show moving forward. (In fact meeting this kind of challenge is inevitably the highlight of this kind of show--because ultimately folks are always rooting for YOU, not the track!)

Finally, while working with tape or MIDI is easy and reliable and wonderfully affordable, and certainly a charming kind of show in a small venue, it might not scale! So when your act blows up and you are playing theaters, don't let the format define you--get a great backing band!

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 29

part 1 | part 28 | ao3

“Hey,” Steve sniffles when Eddie gets home.

He has no idea what time it is, but he knows he’s been crying since Wayne left for work — the exhausted, intermittent kind that leaves him boneless and craving a nap. From the foyer Eddie’s expression pinches with concern, and Steve can’t help the little bubble of wet laughter he lets out over the sight he must make: swaddled in a blanket, tear streaks down his face, neck flopped over the back of the couch to look toward the door. And he’s surrounded by towels.

The few that Wayne managed to salvage after his temper tantrum are all hung up near the radiator, draped over shelves and the backs of chairs, and the rest are sloshing away in the washing machine. (Wayne started a fresh cycle for him before he left for work; didn’t say a word about Steve boohoo-ing like an injured toddler on the other side of the room, which kind of makes him want to cry again.)

“Welcome to your house,” Steve tries to joke, but his voice cracks, so it comes out sounding more pathetic than funny.

“Uh… hi?” Eddie speaks slowly, moves slowly, cautious as he drops his bag and toes off his sneakers. He comes to stand behind the couch.

Steve blinks up at him with another weak, watery laugh.

“You okay?” Eddie asks. He bows his head to meet Steve’s gaze, eyes sharp with worry, brows drawn down, and Steve smiles just a little when Eddie’s hands reach up to touch him: sweep his hair off his forehead, cradle his face, cup his jaw. He runs his thumbs over Steve’s cheekbones, wiping at the salt tracks, and his rings rest in the hollows, his fingers drumming soothing rhythms as he chews on his next words.

Steve thinks he’s never seen something so lovely. Full lips twisted up in sympathy; secondhand heartbreak in his eyes. His hair falls around them like a curtain, like a cocoon.

He looks beautiful.

Warm.

Safe.

“...Do you wanna fuck around?”

Eddie’s hands flex against his jaw and then go still. So perfectly still, every muscle tensed, face gone horribly, carefully blank.

“Jesus,” Steve cringes at himself. He screws his eyes shut with a groan; lifts a hand to hide his face. “Oh, my god. Dude, I’m so sorry, I don’t—”

Eddie plucks Steve’s hand away. Goes back to holding his face, fingers kneading the tense muscles in Steve’s neck. Steve’s thinking that if he could just go blind right now so he never has to look up and see Eddie’s reaction, that would be so cool.

“Hey,” Eddie coaxes. “Look at me?”

Steve cracks one eye open. “Sorry,” he winces.

“S’okay,” Eddie says. Soft and simple, like it's easy, like he means it. There's a smile in his eyes, a playful quirk to his lips. “More than okay, actually; shit, that’s like, supremely fucking flattering, just, uh…"

Oh, god. Is this the part where he lets Steve down? Tells him he read this all wrong; that he let Robin witness his whole sad wet sexuality crisis for nothing?

"Feel like I missed a couple chapters on the reading assignment here, Steve,” Eddie laughs; a disbelieving little thing, his blunt nails catching on Steve's stubble. “You wanna tell me where that came from?”

“Just…”

Steve lets out a breath. Desperately wants to look away, because it’s embarrassing. What he wants.

Why he wants it.

“Last night, when you…”

"Mm. Surprised you remembered that.” His thumb drifts to the corner of Steve’s lips, traces the dip between his bottom lip and chin like he's remembering it now, too. "You were pretty fucked up."

Steve whimpers under the touch. He wants to part his lips, drop his jaw; invite Eddie to feel, to pet his thumb over his tongue and press down with two thick fingers. See how far they’ll go. Eddie makes a noise, and his hands retreat to higher ground; massaging Steve's temples, scratching lightly at his scalp. His voice is almost painfully tender when he murmurs, “No offense, but, um. You still seem a little fucked up now."

Steve nods mutely, because he can feel a rogue tear sliding sideways to his hairline, and what is there to say? It's true. He is a little fucked up now. (A lot fucked up, in fact. Kinda feels like Eddie's fingers down his throat would fix him, but he doubts Eddie would agree.)

Eddie maneuvers around the side of the couch, comes to crouch in front of Steve with his hands braced on Steve's knees. Looks up at him with wide, earnest eyes; two black moons, gravitational pull. "For the record," he intones, squeezing the meat of Steve's thigh, bringing his hand back down to Steve's kneecap with a mournful hiss of air. "I do want to. Fuck around with you, I mean, just- you know. Probably when you're not crying."

Steve huffs a quiet laugh. "You're not into that?" he jokes.

Eddie's dimple flashes. "Only when I'm the cause of it." Then it disappears again, tone serious and soft. "Do you want to talk about it?"

No. God. Not even a little bit; would honestly prefer to get another plate smashed over his head so he can forget this day ever happened. "My mom left," he croaks. He sounds fucking terrible, voice breaking and full of phlegm.

"Shit," Eddie says.

"Shit," Steve agrees.

Eddie gives him a long look — a Robin look, inquisitive and intense, like he can tear all the answers right out of Steve's head. Pluck them up like stray eyelashes; blow them away for good luck. Steve lets himself stare back, catalogs his features: all the freckles and fine lines, the pores, the vellus hair. There's a chicken pox scar just below one of his eyes, a faint silver pockmark that twists and shines in the dim light.

Eventually, Eddie must find what he's looking for because he claps Steve's knees and stands, rolling his shoulders back and down. "Yeah, sweetheart," he nods, "I got exactly what you need."

—

part 30

tag list in separate reblogs, if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[innerfare]

Random Kid Headcanons 

Summary: A random collection of Sir Crocodile headcanons

CW: None // SFW

———

Jams to music in his workshop. Most of the time, it’s metal. Likes pop music; would rather die than admit it. Sometimes, being on the Victoria Punk feels like being in a musical. Drums with his eating utensils at meal times. Has diverted course because he heard about a rock concert on a different island than the one his crew was initially headed for. 

Pretty messy, TBH. Always has clothes strewn around his room, can never tell which ones are clean and which ones are dirty. Everything he owns has some sort of oil, grease, or lipstick stain on it. Also has lots of holes in his clothes, claims it’s grunge but really he’s just too lazy to mend them or doesn’t feel like buying replacements. 

Drinks milk, orange juice, etc. straight out of the carton and puts it back in the fridge. Also dips his grimy hands into chip and trail mix bags. And if he’s cutting bread for a sandwich, he’ll do it directly on the counter; brushes his crumbs on the floor after. 

Has used a steel scouring pad to get dried blood and oil off his skin before, and regularly uses dish soap to wash his hair. Thinks dishwasher soap and dish soap are the same thing, and that they’re the same thing as hand soap. Doesn’t know what fabric softener is. (If you decide to date this man, you will definitely have your work cut out for you; he’s a stray and it shows in his daily habits.) 

That being said, he’s very picky about cosmetics. He only uses a certain shade of eyeliner, a certain brand of lipstick, and always uses a top coat when he paints his nails. He doesn’t, however, use makeup remover, meaning he usually wakes up with raccoon eyes. 

Literally so dramatic, probably has a smoke machine somewhere on the Victoria Punk. 

Has a notorious temper (as if we don’t already know). Snaps over small things. Blames others for moving his stuff because he can never keep track of anything, only to find he was the one who did it. Will never admit to being wrong. The temper can be confusing, too, because he often shows affection by making fun of people and even punching them (granted they’re strong enough to take a friendly punch). If he yells at you, he hates you, but also, if he yells at you, he loves you- oh, and he refuses to elaborate. 

Uses his devil fruit powers to give members of his crew free piercings. Pierced Killer’s nipples after he (Killer) lost a bet. Has considered piercing his own nipples, thinks it would look sick. 

Once accidentally drank oil instead of coffee when he was working in his workshop one night because he confused the canister for his coffee mug. 

Drinks his coffee black, and not in a performative “I’m a man so I hate cream and sugar” kind of way. Genuinely enjoys his coffee black and bitter, the stronger the better. 

Has the sort of mechanical brain that just has to fix things. If someone mentions a hinge is squeaking, a piece of something broke off, etc., he’s dealing with it almost immediately. Will lose track of time trying to repair things, once without realizing spent four hours trying to fix a can opener that Killer said needed to be thrown away. Has definitely taken things apart before to figure out how they work and then not put them back together because he got distracted (has undiagnosed ADHD for sure). 

Smokes, but only ever late at night and when he’s alone. They’re his contemplative cigarettes, a little something to take the edge off and keep his hands occupied while the gears in his brain are turning. I.e., treats his late night cigarettes as a fidget spinner. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[yerimbrit]

WWIB > 5. lunch with pretty (wc: 1.2k)

danielle grins happily as she listens to y/n explain each classroom and their respective teachers. mrs. kim and mr. park, the math teachers, mr. baek the literature teacher—the list goes on. y/n has more annoyed complaints to say about mr. song, which makes danielle giggle with her hand covering her mouth.

she notices her mentor has a hard time making eye contact with her. everyone that she's talked to is okay, but it seems it's different when it comes to danielle. it reassures her in thinking that her seatmate may already have some feelings for her too.

"mrs. kim is nice, but she keeps giving us pop quizzes," y/n gulps down the last of her pocari sweat and throws it away at the nearest recycling bin. "i don't know about mr. park but from what i've heard for eunchae—the girl who kept poking me in class today—he likes pop quizzes too."

danielle takes a sip of her strawberry milk. y/n was adamant about treating her, even if it was just the school vending machines. they finally replaced the selection with better drinks, and everyone's been swarming the machines during break according to the girl. "that's bad," she pouts, "i can't do well on tests without studying super hard; i'll have to study everyday."

y/n widens her eyes and shakes her head, finally glancing at danielle. the transfer student's eyes glimmer with genuine fear. "ah, it's not that bad! they're usually right after we review some introductory material or something like that, don't worry."

they walk through the hallways. some students stare in awe at danielle as they walk past the pair, even more so when she greets each of them with a bright smile. y/n looks like she's seconds away from either passing out or growling at the other students.

they're about to enter the cafeteria when danielle stops briefly. "you didn't have plans with your friends, did you? i know i asked if you wanted to eat lunch together but it's not too late to back out..."

y/n ponders for a moment, glancing around. "i'll... i want to eat lunch with you, it's okay. do you know anyone else here?" she slowly asks. 'she really has a permanent smile on her face,' y/n notes in her head.

"i have a friend who's a senior, but she's... busy today. i can always catch up with her later!" danielle answers easily, hoisting her backpack up to adjust it.

y/n nods and they walk into the already-bustling lunchroom. they don't bother getting in line since danielle brought her own food for today and y/n had a particularly big breakfast with haerin.

"you're not gonna eat?" danielle decides to question this decision, pulling her comically large lunchbox out of her bag, which separates into three different containers. she almost looks disappointed at the lack of food in front of her mentor. 'she's really expressive,' y/n adds to her mental note.

the girl in front of her stares in bewilderment, looking between danielle and her abundance of food that she prepared for lunch. "is that all for you?" she asks in astonishment, before quickly realizing that danielle might take it the wrong way. "i mean, not that i'm calling you-"

y/n gets cut off by the girl laughing. the sound makes her feel like she's floating, ready to ascend to whatever's up there. 'this must be heaven.'

"it's okay! i'm a big eater, i'm pretty active. i used to do track back in australia, but i had to quit because my family was moving back to korea."

the girl across from her nods in understanding, drumming her fingertips on top of the table. "you're from australia?"

"yeah! i was born there but we moved back and forth between seoul and newcastle. my mom's korean."

danielle takes the lids off of her lunchbox containers, revealing a copious amount of gimbap, some cutlery, and a whole box dedicated to a mix of cherry tomatoes and baby carrots. she gestures to the container filled with the fruits and vegetables. "want some?"

"oh," y/n's mouth forms an 'o' shape, and she picks a cherry tomato from the pile. "thank you."

the australian watches as y/n pops the fruit into her mouth with expectant eyes. "is it sweet?"

"mm, very."

"that's good! i love fruits and vegetables, i can't go a day without having them. oh, especially carrots. i love carrots," danielle rambles as she picks up a piece of her gimbap with her chopsticks and shoves it in her mouth. she repeats this until all of her lunch is gone, before y/n can even blink.

"hey loser," eunchae sets her tray down on the table, taking a seat next to y/n. "hi danielle!"

danielle flashes a huge grin and waves, recognizing the girl as the person that y/n was talking about earlier. "hello! eunchae...?"

"big baby..." y/n mutters under her breath. unfortunately for her, eunchae hears it and pinches her on the side. they side-eye each other.

then, as if nothing happened, she turns back to danielle with a friendly expression. "that's right! yunjin-unnie told me lots about you."

this turns out to be something that danielle didn't expect, because she lets out a loud gasp. "you know yunjin-unnie!?"

y/n curses at eunchae in her head.

the two get wrapped up in an exciting conversation about yunjin and how they know her, and also getting to know each other in the process. danielle, yunjin, and another girl named yuna grew up together, and they still keep in touch even now. they keep each other updated on almost every detail of their lives while danielle is away, and also exchanging small pieces of gossip.

eunchae's older sister, chaewon, is close friends with the musician, and she describes them as a "budding situationship" before she laughs it off and changes to a different subject. internally, y/n takes back the curses she directed to the younger girl as she also got to know the pretty girl better through their interaction.

two figures approach their table and eunchae and danielle's conversation is put on pause in order to see who arrived.

"ah, finally!" y/n stands up, moving her bag so the student council power couple could sit. "you took forever."

"danielle," eunchae starts, pointing to the girls that had just settled down in their seats with a lunchbox that the secretary packed. "this is hanni-unnie and minji-unnie, our very own student council secretary and president. guys, this is danielle, the new transfer."

"wow! it's so nice to meet you! i didn't know y/n-ssi was so connected."

"it's very nice to meet you, danielle," hanni states, making a face at y/n, who flips her off while the bright girl isn't looking.

the rest of the girls finish their lunch, with some taking their share of danielle's offered tomatoes and carrots (minji made a face, though no one except hanni and y/n noticed), and soon lunch was over. y/n's face pales at the bell.

she still has class with the new girl in two periods.

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[bisnes-socks]

i said i might do more in depth thoughts of stephanie and so i did.

the first post was a bit rushed but many of the points very much still stand, this post i guess is just trying to make the same points a bit better and deeper. so idk how much of a musical analysis this is, and how much i'm just trying to put vibes and feelings into words, but here goes.

i said in the first post how i like that the structure isn't the usual verse chorus verse chorus - well, actually it kind of is that, but the chorus doesn't feel like an obvious chorus, because they only play it twice and it's not the same those times. there is almost a pre-chorus like feeling to it, and then the song ends in what could have been a bridge, if the song was longer. this song to me feels like a part of something bigger, and that's why i'm super excited to hear in the context of the full album. with that being said, i still think it works super well on its own as well, i really love the vibes.

the early 2000's brit rock and indie rock influence, such as arctic monkeys or black kids, is still quite obvious to me, but so is the 80's influence as well, like orchestral manoeuvers in the dark was the first one that came to my mind. then again, the 80's influence on early 2000's brit rock and indie rock in general is also pretty obvious, so i think influences in music in general should always be seen as a spectrum, rather than fixed, separate points. everything is always influenced by things that came before it, and what we can name as an influence on something will always depend on where we've heard a specific style or flavour or spice in music first.

it's a different sound than what we've heard from them before. i don't know if this makes any sense to anyone other than myself, but to me, the sound on this song is the sound of a collective more than the sound of the band. what i mean by that is that there are so many elements in the song that are not straight forward band instruments, or instruments that are in their usual line up. this sound is produced by five professinal musicians working as a collective, rather than five band members playing their respective instruments simultaniously. does that make any sense? i don't know, but it's how i feel - like there could be more people on this song than there are. but i think the best songs always do sound like all of the people who made it, not just one or two.

like i said in my first post, the drums are super interesting in this one. the drum machineness of it all, the super 80's style drum fills, the percussive details of little pings and pangs that decorate the track, that's all something that hasn't been super typical in pop or rock music recently, and harkens back to the 70's, 80's and also the early 2000's indie scene. it's super interesting to listen to, and i can genuenly recommend taking the time to listen to the track a couple of times focusing on just the drums and percussion.

in fact, i'd recommend listening to the track (this track and honestly just songs in general) several times, always choosing a different instrument or element to focus on, because there is a lot of cool stuff going on in this song! vocals and lyrics often take the main focus, but i always find it worth it to carefully listen beyond the lyrics.

the drum parts are also just genuenly fun. the drums and the bass make it a very dancable song, which again, it's both very 80's and very early 2000's to make super bop-y, dancable songs with sad or dark lyrics. the contrast is quite yummy to me. it also brings a vibe to the song i really really love. it reminds me of a quote about movies, about how drama movies should always have a little bit of comedy in them, because that's how real life is. there is always always both light and dark, sadness and happiness present in everything. crying and laughing all at once. that's the vibe of the song to me, and it's brilliant.

the song has so many layers to it, it's honestly brilliantly mixed: there's something happening in almost every direction, every distance, so to speak. and so many different synth sounds! sharp strikes here, notes held there, runs here, backround walls there. take a moment to find them all, it's super rewarding and again, genuenly fun!

the vocal delivery is also a cool contrast with the musical aspects. the voice doesn't convey a lot of emotion, on purpose i think. he sounds a bit numb and detached, and the music being so whimsical with all of its details and decorations, it's just a really cool juxtaposition.

and at the end, repeating the lines about love and happiness not being built for people like me, with the guitar playing the same melody, when the vocal line and the guitar line go out of sync and he starts repeating the lines to a different rythm, i think it highlights the juxtaposition even more, it's like.. it's like he's not even listening to the whimsy of the music anymore, but getting carried away in his own head by the lines. and repeating them in an almost monotoe way.. i just think it's a brilliant way to deliver the emotion behind the lyric.

but the song ends in the major key whimsical runs on the keyboard with a very fun percussion rythm, and so i think ultimately the mood left behind by the song is quite positive. it's melancholic sure, a bit angsty yes, but at the same time it's not a depressing feeling. 

like i don't know how else to put it, but the whole song is like. everything is going to shit in your life, but you're on a walk and the leaves are super pretty colours and the weather is just perfect, and you breathe in fresh air and it's like. yeah everything is kinda fucked but right in this moment, right at this minute, it's all kind of.. okay. and for a split second you can imagine a future where things are less shit. where maybe happiness and love are built for people like you.

[carlyraejepsans]

> YOOOOOOOOOO 👀👀

The room goes dark, a convenient puff of air snuffing out the flames in the fireplace. For a terrifying moment, as your eyes struggle to adjust, you are blind.

"Beauties and gentle-beauties," the robotic voice booms again, "Welcome…"

A drum rolls into a crescendo.

Then from blind, you are blinded.

The light returns like a blade, cutting a sharp circle around you and Sans' figures. He's not alone in the spotlight, however.

"To tonight's melodrama!" The King concludes with a flourish.

Like a switch being flipped, the room explodes into noise and color. Colorful heart shaped lights dance along the walls, produced by drone-like machines that flutter in the air from the open window as soon as the cues are given. Cameras, screens, microphones. They fill the once quiet room with their mechanical whirring. From somewhere above you, confetti rains to the floor.

The King flashes a dashing smile at the cameras. At least, you think he does. As close to a smile as he can get in his rectangular form, anyway.

He waves one arm in the air, saluting; the other clasping Sans' shoulder in apparent good humor. Sans' smile is frozen but unfazed.

Privately, you're relieved for him that skeletons don't have much in terms of soft tissues. That grip looks like it would bruise.

"Everyone give a big hand to our two wonderful protagonists!"

The King lets go of his bodyguard to clap along to the audio track that automatically begins to play. Sans shrugs his shoulders—the characteristic gesture masking any signs of physical discomfort—before popping a lazy salute at the cameras.

Your terrified eyes meet his for a moment, but he doesn't seem to acknowledge you.

"My dear viewers, I must first of all offer you an apology. Dragging you out of your beds at this ungodly hour… where have my manners gone. However! An unforeseen development has recently unfolded."

He's fast. He's very fast for something that moves like a military grade unicycle. In the blink of an eye, he's by your side. The colorful panel of his face is unreadable; the lights of the improvised studio catch on the golden crown atop his head.

"The ghost of tears…"

His gloved hand reaches up to gently grab at your chin and turn your once crying face to the cameras.

"A midnight rendez-vous… turned to tragedy."

As fast as he came, he's gone, rolling to the centre of the room and spreading his arms to his sides with pathos.

"Could this be? A heart wrenching tale of unrequited love?!!"

Where you stare dumbfounded and frozen, Sans laughs. He takes a few steps forward, planting himself right by Mettaton's side, then throws a wink, first at you, then at the cameras.

He doesn't break a sweat. The movement is so natural it seems like second nature. You wonder, for a second, just how long he's been working for Him.

"oh you know. nothing like some light heartbreaking and entering to end the night, am i right?"

A rimshot rings out. You're not sure why, but you feel like it wasn't part of the planned sound design. The king's robotic laugh sounds even hollower than usual.

"Of course! Of course! My agent's penchant for humor is more than well known. But!"

He turns to you—and with him your knees to jelly. The King tilts his royal microphone at you, teasingly. Threateningly.

"Everyone is waiting for the real scoop, darling! Our special human guest. What do YOU have to say in all of this?"

[butchhamlet]

a scene-by-scene playlist for macbeth--one song for each scene. you know the drill by now. track list with rationale under the cut; special thanks to @blackcatarts for help with the selection :3 happy halloween season, y'all.

track list + rationale

act one

1.1 (the witches enter) - Everybody Wants to Rule the World (Lorde Cover) (feels self-explanatory, plus the vibe of it feels like panning in over a foggy battlefield)

1.2 (duncan finds out macbeth slayed) - Aneurysm by Nirvana (found this one on this macbeth playlist a while back and it has remained a macbeth song to me forever and ever; the manic energy fits the battlefield fervor here)

1.3 (macbeth and banquo meet the witches) - They by Jem (“and it’s ironic too // ‘cause what we tend to do // is act on what they say // and then it is that way… who are they? where are they? how can they possibly know all this?”)

1.4 (duncan names malcolm his successor) - Money Money Money by ABBA (he’s plotting! he’s planning! stars, hide your fires! look just trust me on this one)

1.5 (lady macbeth reads the letter & reunites with macbeth) - She’s Kerosene by the Interrupters (every lyric of this song is about lady macbeth.)

1.6 (lady macbeth welcomes duncan to her castle) - Silver Platters by Les Gold (“no need to be cordial // you could be immortal // if you take the risk // could you take the risk?” + “step out on the dance floor // this is what you asked for // such a pretty face // what was it underneath the mask for?”)

1.7 (the macbeths argue) - Fight For Me by AlicebanD (macbeths song of all time!!!)

act two

2.1 (dagger scene) - Disturbia by Rihanna (the supernatural begins to bleed into the world! will someone please direct a macbeth where this comes on during this scene) 

2.2 (post-murder argument) - Prowl Great Cain by The Mountain Goats (very macbeth song. placed here for “and i feel guilty, but i can’t feel ashamed!” & mention of sleepwalking & betrayal & prowling [cf. his line about tarquin in 2.1])

2.3 (porter scene, duncan’s death comes out) - Daniel in the Den by Bastille (“felled in the night by the ones you think you love // they will come for you” + “and for every king that died // they would crown another”)

2.4 (hey. don’t cry. duncan’s horses ate each other) - When He Died by Lemon Demon (literally a song about the world getting fucked up after a guy dies what can i say)

act three

3.1 (banquo gets suspicious) - Aha! by Imogen Heap (entire song about people pretending to be better than they are, including an actual serial killer. + “cost you to keep me quiet” with banquo…)

3.2 (the macbeths are fracturing) - The Horror of Our Love by Ludo (EXTREMELY MACBETHS SONG. here because this is the scene where they start to switch places, with him the one buying into violence as the answer & telling her not to worry about gory details)

3.3 (banquodeath) - Bury A Friend by Billie Eilish (rdj meme voice: he has murdered his friend)

3.4 (banquet scene) - Bird Song by Florence + the Machine (song about killing the witness and then being haunted by that witness and completely losing your shit trying to shut their ghost up…)

3.5 (hecate) - Hecate by Wendy Rule (i don’t give a shit about this scene i’m sorry. interpolation boooooo)

3.6 (lennox talks politics) - Dark Doo Wop by MS MR (foggy apocalyptic ones. “it’s all gone to shit // it’s out of our hands”)

act four

4.1 (double double toil & trouble) - Hot Knife by Fiona Apple (i’m a hot knife i’mmmm a hot knife i’m a hot knife he’s a pat of butter… you’re just gonna have to trust me on this one. my school’s macbeth had heavy drumming all through this scene and it’s associated with this song to me forever)

4.2 (macduff’s family is murdered) - Pretty Little Things by the Crane Wives (songs about pretty/fragile things being destroyed because of men’s betrayal… thinking about how lady macduff blames her husband for abandoning her to the wolves :( )

4.3 (malcolm and macduff) - All or Nothing by the Dream Masons (songs that are about both malcolm and macduff. the first verse especially is very malcolm, as a young prince stranded among enemies; the chorus is especially macduff-deciding-to-kill-macbeth-or-die-trying)

act five

5.1 (lady macbeth sleepwalks) - Tymps (The Sick in the Head Song) by Fiona Apple (LADY MACBETH GUILT SONG! “those boon times went bust // my feet of clay, they dried to dust // the red isn’t the red we painted, it’s just rust” w her imaginary bloodstains, + “i’m either so sick in the head i need to be bled dry to quit // or i just really used to love him // i sure hope that’s it”)

5.2 (the scots and english gather) - Marked Man by Mieka Pauley (songs i considered for 4.3 as well. they are coming to Get His Ass)

5.3 (macbeth preparing to fight) - For the Departed by Shayfer James (songs about knowing you’re about to get got but what does it matter when you’re already damned)

5.4 (the fucking wood is moving guys) - Kingdom Fall by Claire Wyndham (songs i almost put on the prior scene, for “i’d rather watch my kingdom fall // i want it all or not at all,” but eventually i placed it here because… well, we are watching the kingdom fall, my guy)

5.5 (tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow) - Drowning in the Sound by Amanda Palmer (okay, this is kind of because of “sound and fury,” but also it’s soooo macbeth act 5. “and the body is a temple but the temple is a prison and the prison’s overcrowded and the inmates know it’s flooded and the body politic is getting sicker by the second” + “do you ever feel like this should be officially the end? // and that you should be the one to do the ending, but you can’t?” + the inevitability…)

5.6 (scots + english arrive) - Lion’s Teeth by the Mountain Goats (song about trying to kill a powerful and tyrannical figure. also sounds like a fight scene)

5.7 (macduff and macbeth come face to face) - Bury Me Face Down by grandson (so obsessed with how firmly this guy would rather go down fighting than do literally anything easier)

5.8 (macbeth’s head presented, malcolm crowned) - King of the World by WAR*HALL (a new king is crowned after one dies by violence. fleance is still out there somewhere. the cycle of violence continues. this one doesn’t work unless you imagine the witches watching pityingly/sinisterly in the background)

[dustedmagazine]

Alan Sparhawk — White Roses, My God (Sub Pop)

Photo by Sophia Photo Co.

Grief can sometimes make you retreat. Familiar comforts can be appealing when the massive weight of it presses down and feels like it will never relent. But what if you’re an artist, needing to express yourself at this particular time in your life, and the ways you are used to doing so are inaccessible reminders of that same anguish? Alan Sparhawk and Mimi Parker had a life together for decades, and a creative life together as Low for most of that time. After Parker died in 2022, there is simply no option for Sparhawk (who has long been upfront about how he relied on Parker’s ear and sensibility in their work together) to work in the way he was used to. As he’s said in an interview, “I’m trying to use my voice, but I don’t want to hear my voice, so I needed to find another voice.” If the superlative final few Low albums were in part accounts of the duo forging a new vocabulary, White Roses, My God sees Sparhawk trying to do so once again under the most wrenching conditions.

Even though the music here can on first contact seem like a radical break from Sparhawk’s past work, it stems from the domestic and close at hand. Sparhawk has shared that the main tool used to create the vocals here is a TC-Helicon Voicetone C1 pitch correction pedal, one of the devices they got for their kids to play around with. (Yes, the well-known AutoTune software does pitch correction. No, the music here was not made using AutoTune except insofar as the name of the software has become a generic stand-in for pitch correction.) At times he creaks or squawks, mutters or gibbers. Finding several new alien tones to express himself in, Sparhawk also found songs streaming out of his consciousness. The result isn’t completely a one-man show; kids Hollis and Cyrus contributed backing vocals and bass respectively, and Sparhawk co-produced with Nat Harvie. But the result does feel as much like the unfiltered expression of one human being as any solo acoustic singer-songwriter record does.

The synths and drum machines Sparhawk employs often feel deceptively bouncy and bright in tone, although the minute-long lament “Heaven” clearly indicates that if Sparhawk had wanted to aim for the tear ducts throughout these 35 minutes, he could have. Even so, those pieces are assembled in ways that can be foreboding and harsh. Some tracks, like the ebulliently bubbling “I Made This Beat,” lock purely into the joy of creating (in this case partly by repeating the title to the point of pure texture), but most remain gnomically private. The clattering slide that opens “Can U Hear” builds to an almost slow-motion darkwave climax with squalling vocals bouncing around over goth-y synth pads. “Station” feels like gentle synth-pop periodically subsumed by a drone that rises up from beneath it. “Brother” blends in a steady, sparse guitar part from Sparhawk until the whole track lurches in sympathy with his wails.

The result is a record is suffused with grief without ever drowning in it (or, for the most part, addressing it directly in the lyrics even when you can parse them out). White Roses, My God is probably best summed up by “Feel Something”’s arc from pleading “can you feel something here?” to affirming “I think I feel something here” as warmly rounded tones and occasionally gnashing drum programming cycle away. Long term fans wanting to hear more of the Sparhawk they’re used to probably don’t have long to wait; live, he’s been playing one set of this material and another of more conventional, angry/grieving songs with ‘clean’ vocals, and he’s been working on an album with Duluth band Trampled by Turtles backing him. But none of that should overshadow just what a rare and precious thing this is, the sound of a man fighting his way through the stasis of mourning with whatever voice he can find, in whatever forms it finds him.

Ian Mathers

[fishnoodles]

Seven Year Itch – Fabrizio Moretti of The Strokes on Their Latest Album in Seven Years

Interview by Charlie Weinmann Photos by Jason McDonald

It’s been seven years since The Strokes released their record, Comedown Machine. A lot can change in seven years, and for a band to come together again after so much time to create something new is something to admire. For the band’s drummer, Fabrizio Moretti, re-establishing a vibe with the band mates he grew up with was just what he needed after making music more or less on his own since 2013. Despite the time that had passed, The Strokes were able to craft this new music, with the help of legendary producer Rick Rubin, which rings familiar to their signature sounds, yet sprinkled with new energy and life. The new record, The New Abnormal, seems to be aptly titled for the times, though it was completed before the pandemic gripped the world. I chatted with Moretti on the last day of April about his experience making the record, reconnecting with his band, as well as another project he’s been working on, which he has designed to be inclusive of artists all around the world.

Mirror of an interview on drumheadmag.com, originally posted around May 2020

CW: How’s quarantine been for you? What’s been keeping you busy? FM: Music, and I’ve been learning how to cook, and I’ve been doing some painting on the side. I’ve been reading. It’s been tough, man, I gotta tell you. I’ve been feeling for everybody.

I agree. It’s a fortunate thing to be healthy and to be able to do things, like cook. I’m glad that you’re healthy. Yeah, there’s that underlying sadness, that during this time, somewhere not too far from where you are, somebody is suffering. Many people are suffering. And many people are putting themselves on the line to alleviate that suffering. That’s pretty intense.

Absolutely. Well, I’d like to ask you about the new album. My favorite song so far has been “Eternal Summer.” Me too. Well, maybe it’s my second favorite.

What’s your first? “At The Door.”

What do you like about that track? I think it’s the furthest we’ve traveled from ourselves but still maintaining our DNA.

What was the process of writing and recording the music like for you? How long of a process was it? It was a long process. We started with the demos here in New York, and we sent those demos off to Rick Rubin to see if he would want to work on these songs. We wanted to present him with some material. He said “yes,” and then there was some time in-between that, until we got to his studio. He encouraged us to jam every morning to see what would come of us being together in this place, sequestered in this place called Shangri-La. Most of the songs came from us jamming and building an idea. It was very cool how he knew to reinvigorate the band; he needed us to be a band again, to be all in the same room just jamming, and not worrying so much about ‘writing a song,’ or ‘parts,’ but just feeling each-other’s vibes out.

That’s a cool approach. When did that happen? When were you guys doing the bulk of the writing? It was a while ago. The past is a muddy haze, man, I don’t even know how to bring it together. It was a long time, though. It took us a while to finish.

Did you have anything specific you wanted to accomplish with the drums for the new record? Did you have any ideas of what you wanted to achieve? No, because we were really kind of sailing on this wave of interaction, you know? Like feeding off of one another in the moment. With the band, we have a history of playing each-other’s instruments, and making up parts for one another, but in this case, we really just sat at our posts, and vibed out with one another. I think that having Rick there, as the captain, who we all wanted to respect…not fear, but like, you know the way one fears something grander than them? Like Kierkegaard’s “Fear and Trembling.” We need to pay homage to him and to listen to him. And to trust him. And sure enough, he was a guiding force that made us all congeal.

What can you say about making music in that space, at Shangri-La? It’s a legendary recording studio. Had you ever worked there before? Never. I had never even met Rick, so the initial thing was walking in and feeling nervous about meeting him. You walk in, and it’s all this kind of white-washed house with these long corridors; you’re walking into this altered place. You look around, and you see all these instruments, and you’re told by the people that work there that “you’re able to play around with any instrument you like. Everything is fair play here.” Then you realize you’re holding an acoustic guitar from the ‘30s, and everything is sacred, and there’s a bus out in the back that was Dylan’s touring bus. It’s all just magic. “The Last Waltz” was filmed and recorded there. It was pretty cool.

I’m envisioning you guys “sitting at your posts,” and I assume for you, you mean the drum kit–what would you say is most unique, or most different about your drumming on this new record compared to what you’ve done in the past? Well, I had a very clear view of Rick’s feet from where I sat. He was always there from noon to seven, which is something that I wasn’t expecting; he was very hands-on. And we would jam, and play the tunes, and I would see his feet tapping to the beat. And then, I would try and get more complicated and do more fancy stuff, and I would look at his feet and they would immediately stop. I started to train myself to play beats that would keep his feat tapping; less about playing what’s fancy, and more about keeping his feet tapping. It was really about the groove and less about trying to be a ‘snappy drummer.’

It’s got to be about the song! So, it’s been seven years since the last Strokes record–one’s musical taste, and understanding of music is bound to change in that time…How would you say that your thinking on music has changed since the last Stroked record, and how has that influenced your contributions to the new music? In that time, I was really building music at home, and doing things by myself became easier and easier…you start on this path feeling you can do everything by yourself…everything is accessible, every sound, if you’re willing to pay enough, you can have it. You’re spellbound by that for a while and start writing music, but it’s kind of influenced by that…I felt particularly that I reached a point where I discovered that my solitude wasn’t beneficial anymore, and I missed the influence of my compatriots, my fellow musicians. Not that making music by yourself isn’t fun and rewarding, but there’s certainly an edge that you get to, or at least I did, where you know you can’t go any further by yourself. It was nice to come back after so long to a room…actually, probably if we had kept on going, I would have taken this for granted, but after having stopped for so long, coming back to these people who not only understand me, we understand each other in a subconscious way. We feed off of each other without even knowing how we do it. It’s a very rare and precious thing.

Yes, it is. How old were you guys when you started playing together? The first time I played with Nick, I was thirteen. And then Julian and I started playing together soon thereafter. I think our first show, I was fifteen.

That’s a lifetime of playing music with someone. Very valuable indeed.When I listen to the new record, there are sounds and beats that make me think of ‘80s music. What is your connection with music from that time period? How did that time period influence this record for you? I mean, it’s not like we’re going for that sound, but I think certain times we land there because of the nostalgia for that time. We were all children. I guess we were forming our musical opinion without even knowing it. It’s like it’s a color that we can paint with to evoke a certain nostalgia as a bed for a melody, or for a vibe. In terms of practical thinking, it’s not like I personally seek out inspiration from ‘80s drummers–although Phil Collins is a pretty awesome, all around musician. He’s someone that I aspire to be like: somebody who can write music as well as they can play the drums. And vice versa.

I also wanted to congratulate you on the new Machinegum album, Conduit. I was recently turned on to it, and what you guys did with the art exhibit earlier this year was really cool. What excites you most about that project, and how does the way in which you approach that music, artistically, compare to how you approach your role in The Strokes? You know how I was telling you about how I was making music alone in my kitchen? That was Machinegum. That’s almost a funnel for me to be able to get out my emotions, or to exercise my personality. Because even when I bring a melody to The Strokes, I have such faith in Julian’s lyrics, that I don’t bring lyrics. That’s his job. And it’s actually very fun to bring a melody and see how he responds lyrically to it. But there is that part of me that wants to express stuff lyrically, too, so Machinegum became sort of my exhaust pipe to do that. What really excites me about that in the future, is that maybe I can cultivate it in a way to become independent from me. I’m trying to build, or at least I’m trying to think of a way to build, a stage upon which the musician and the listener can have a reciprocal relationship. I want to make art with people who I don’t know. I want it all to be under Machinegum. That seems like an exciting future. We recently made a video that hasn’t come out yet, which we started before the Corona Virus, and we just asked people to mimic and act out these directions that we gave them, to show this community that pans out across the globe. I feel like now more than ever, we have so much power and technology in the communal mind, and we’re exercising new and bold ways of expressing that because of the confines of this sad, sad time. It’s a very lush moment for ideas. … Hopefully you’re a part of Machinegum, you know?

I think it’s a novel idea, and I support it one-hundred percent. I just have one more question: what’s been inspiring you recently in the art world, whether it’s music or anything else…? Yeah, I mean, it’s almost like what isn’t inspiring these days? But, I recently got to do a collaboration with Sotheby’s, where I curated this process of witnessing these paintings. It was centered around the same principles, the importance of the individual, but also of the individual in a collective, or group. I built this maze, that compromised the view of these paintings, where you could only really see the whole thing if you were standing by yourself, and you got this moment to really witness the painting, and have a quiet moment…to allow yourself a quiet moment with art…that’s been pretty inspiring.

[posttexasstressdisorder]

Wednesday, 12-11-24, 2pm Pacific

Aaaaaaand a good afternoon to all, Mr. Baggins here, back with our Afternoon Stack of Classic Wax! Today I've set the dial on my Wayback Machine to 1970, not just because it was a great year for the music, but because we are gonna do another little deep-dive, this time, with one of my all-time favorite bands from the '70s, WAR! We first heard of them as the unique-sounding backup band for Eric Burdon's 1970 hit "Spill The Wine"...with the percussion, and that organ flourish and bad-ass drumming, I was hooked! I was eleven when it came out and it is STILL one of my favorite songs!

The story was that Burdon had collapsed on-stage from "an asthma attack" while on tour with them and dropped out mid-tour, leaving them to do the rest of the tour and their massive career on their own, which they did quite handily, going on to become one of the BIGGEST bands of the '70s. Their first sans-Burdon single, All Day Music, became an instant Top 40 hit. The blend of Afro and Latino sounds along with their undeniable ability to generate a groove set them apart from any other band at the time. There is a certain kind of "south texas" feel to their music, so much so that when I first heard this song, I thought they were a San Antonio band, because the SA radio station I listened to from 120 miles away played them a lot.

The next single, Slippin' Into Darkness (issued in early '72), went Gold and cemented their fusion of Latin and Afro and Pop/Rock as "the sound" in everybody's heads. I remember this song blasting out of radios everywhere!

Their next single went all the way to Number 7, the title cut from their magnum opus album, The World Is A Ghetto, set them firmly in the rock/pop/soul pantheon. Recorded and issued in late 1972.

The album gave us another couple of bad-ass hits: the next single was Cisco Kid, was almost a Number 1...it got all the way to Number 2! It's also one of the songs that made me think they were a Texas band (plus their album cut "southern part of texas"). I was actually surprised to find out they were from Long Beach!

The next single quickly became one of my favorite songs of all time; it got all the way to Number 7, another top ten tune that I remember being on the radio ALL the time! Another one issued in '72 but a hit into the next year.

Their next hit, Me and Baby Brother, was also ubiquitous. That really is one of the things I remember about them: all these songs are so uniquely THEM, i have a hard time separating them out by year in my head, it's like their music was just all One Really Groovy Year! This was also recorded in '73 and became a hit in '74.

Their next single was a lot more "pop", it got all the way to Number 6 on the chart, and was an anthem of sorts for that odd, odd, ODD period that was the middle of the '70s.

Their next hit was a return to their trademark sound, and one of their biggest hits, going all the way to Number 7.

Their next single would be their last really big hit, Summer. It was one of those songs that defined my teenage years...it was '76, I had just bought my '69 Mustang fast back, and really did used to go "ridin' 'round town with all the windows down, 8-track playin' all your favorite sounds..."

And that wraps up today's Afternoon Stack of Classic Wax! I hope you've enjoyed our timewarp back to the '70s and one of the biggest bands of the decade! Mr. Baggins signing off for now, I'll be back at 7pm with a set to soothe our achin' nerves and help ease us all into a good night.

Until then, be kind, babies, be kind.

Baggins out.

[whump-card]

This Death That I Chose: Chapter 1

2507 words

CW: implied past noncon, derogatory language

Masterlist, Next

~~~

“My name is Lark.”

Joshua Tao studied their new captive carefully. The two of them sat opposite each other in the makeshift interrogation room – a back room in the abandoned house the Watch had set up in, the windows boarded closed. The prisoner had shackles on his ankles and wrists, and with his left arm in a cast from elbow to palm and resting in a sling he was forced to hold his right hand up awkwardly to avoid jostling it. Tao was deeply puzzled by him. The Watch had captured him purely by chance: they strayed too far into the ruins during a night patrol due to an over-enthusiastic new member, and spotted a Military transport van moving along an abandoned track. A split-second decision led to the van being stopped, boarded, and overpowered. When the fighting was over, the Watch headed home to their little rebel settlement with four prisoners – until the three captured soldiers cracked open their cyanide teeth and had to be left to rot in the ruins. That left them with one: silent, wide-eyed, with a broken arm, and clearly the transport’s primary passenger. The soldiers had fought wildly to protect him.

The prisoner was no soldier himself, of that Tao was certain. He had a slim build, hardly any muscle at all, clearly revealed by the sleeveless turtleneck he wore. He had pale skin and silky black hair that was too long and well cared for. Neither did he have the age or aura of an officer; the young man had put up no fight, and now stared down at the table between them, refusing to risk antagonizing his captors with eye contact. His face – which looked small penned in by the dark of mop of his hair and the high turtleneck – was ashen and slick with sweat, the result of the hours-long slog through the ruins on a hot summer night. He didn’t seem scared, though. Instead he seemed cold. Detached.

“Your name is Lark.” Tao echoed, drumming his fingers on the holster of his gun. Like the bird? “Okay, ‘Lark.’ What were you doing in a Military transport going through the ruins in the middle of the night?”

“We were returning from the Conservatorium to the Capital.”

Tao wasn’t expecting such a straightforward answer. The young man’s voice was quiet, with a smooth, controlled cadence.

“What were you doing at the Conservatorium?” Tao asked.

“I needed to see a doctor there.”

“For your arm? It doesn’t look bad enough to warrant a trip to the Con.”

“It was… Badly infected.”

Lark’s first hesitation. Tao made a mental note of that, and moved on.

“So you live in the Capital?”

“Yes, sir.”

‘Sir’? He really doesn’t want any trouble.

“What do you do there?”

Another pause. Lark’s eyes darted back and forth, searching the table for the best answer. Tao suppressed a smile.

“I don’t know anything useful to you,” Lark said carefully.

“That’s not what I asked.” Tao leaned forward. “You’re a scientist, aren’t you? Pumping out murder machines, getting top-notch medical treatment when an experiment goes wrong?”

Lark was shaking his head before Tao even finished talking.

“No, sir. I’m not a scientist. I don’t know anything.”

“Sounds like something a scientist would say.”

“I’m not. You shouldn’t keep me here.”

“Woah!” Tao laughed, “Giving orders already? And here I was, thinking you were a pushover.”

“No, sir, what I mean is, people will miss me, in the Capital. They will come looking.”

Emotion was starting to color Lark’s voice for the first time: a hint of desperation.

“They won’t find us,” Tao said.

“You think he doesn’t know you’re out here?” Defiance. And he.

“So you do know things.”

Lark finally looked up from the table, his eyes meeting Tao’s for the first time. They were dark bronze, like late-season honey.

“No, not anything useful, I swear.” Gone was his carefully measured tone and pace. His words flowed quickly and betrayed a slowly rising panic. “If you keep me here you’ll learn nothing from me and the Commander will destroy this place to get me back. You should trade or ransom me for something that’s actually valuable as soon as you can.”

“Aww,” Tao’s voice dripped with fake sympathy, “It almost sounds like you care about us.” He laughed, then grew serious again. “And it sounds like you’re pretty important to the big guy.”

Lark hesitated again before admitting it.

“Yes, sir. I am. In fact -” He gained a second wind of boldness, leaning forward slightly. “In fact, the Commander took a great risk in resources and political standing by sending me through the ruins to the Conservatory for emergency medical care. He has gone through great lengths to ensure my health and safety, and I know he’d be willing to offer you anything you wanted in exchange for my safe return. But… he’s not a patient man. You’d need to act quickly.”

“Well, what I want is my home, my country, and my brother back.” Tao stared Lark down. “I don’t think that’s going to happen, do you?”

Lark was left speechless, his open mouth trembling slightly. Tao stood.

“I’m going to give you some time to think. I’m sure you can come up with something interesting to tell me. If not… We’ll help you out.”

Tao started to leave, but heard chains rattling behind him.

“Um, please, wait!”

Lark’s tone was much different now. He was scared – clearly he hadn’t thought Tao would cut off their conversation so soon. Tao turned back.

“What is it, thought of something already?”

“No, sir, sorry, I – my arm,” Lark gestured weakly to his sling, “It’s not fully healed. I had antibiotics with me on the transport, I need them so that the infection doesn’t… come back. Please.”

Tao nodded slowly.

“We’ll see,” was all he said.

Tao left the room and found himself toe-to-toe with Becca and Vic, who had been listening just outside the door. They said nothing but made expressive faces as Tao mockingly waved them away and bolted the door – the lack of soundproofing went both ways. How Tao wished they had a real interrogation room, with an intercom and a slick one-way window. But buildings like that hardly existed anymore outside of the Commander's hold.

The three of them moved from the small hallway to what had once been someone’s living room, but was now the Watch’s meeting and strategy room. Vic, the Watch’s other leader along with Tao, practically exploded.

“This is crazy. Do you really think he’s a scientist?”

Tao let out a long breath, cracking his knuckles one by one. The whole thing had him more tense than he realized.

“He’s gotta be. I don’t know what else. If he was some kind of laborer or domestic servant, he could’ve just said.”

Becca, the rebel community’s de-facto “mayor,” snapped her fingers to get the two men’s attention.

“Hey. Did I mishear, or did you vaguely threaten him with torture? Because we’re not doing that. Ever.”

“Oh, jeez, no,” Tao put up his hands, “I was just trying to scare him.”

“Aww,” Vic complained, “Can’t we rough him up just a little? He’s part of a fascist regime!”

“No,” Becca insisted, “And Tao, you better track down that medicine he needs. We respect the Geneva Convention in this house.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Vic, how goes the data retrieval from the Military van?” Becca asked.

“It’s going,” Vic nodded, “We should know a lot more about who this guy is very soon.”

“Good. We’ll talk to ‘Lark’ again when we do. Until then,” she pointed to Tao, “Medicine, and,” she turned her finger toward Vic, “Guard him. No funny business.”

Vic gave a lazy salute. “Got it.”

~~~

Tao was going to get the medicine, he really was. But after being out all night and the skirmish over the transport van, he was exhausted, starving, and had a few bumps and scrapes that were begging for attention. Sustenance came first: he left the house that served as the Watch’s headquarters and walked down the cracked and weathered road to the cookhouse.

The little rebel “town” was modest. It was a ragtag collection of survivors that had set up in an abandoned semi-rural neighborhood, guarded and provided for by volunteer Watchmen who scavenged the nearby city ruins. The houses were spaced apart, and there was thick tree coverage that kept them visually shielded from any aerial eyes that didn’t know what they were looking for.

The cookhouse was a home that had been remodeled shortly before the war to sport a modern open floor plan. This made it the largest indoor space, and combined with its state-of-the-art kitchen it was the best mess hall they could manage.

Tao knocked back two cups of instant coffee and some watery eggs, fending off questions from other breakfast-goers about the Watch’s new prisoner. He only just got here. Yeah, yeah, we’ll make an announcement if he spills something juicy. Only the cook on duty cared to ask him how his food was, chuckling out a good-humored “Today is a disaster!” when he couldn’t fake a good enough smile.

Once he had some peace, he rolled the prisoner’s words around in his head. “Lark.” Yeah, right. But…

“You should trade me for something that’s actually valuable.”

The young man hadn’t sounded like he was lying.

~~~

Tao went to the infirmary next. Their doctor, Faye, was a bony old woman with an ornery personality, but she got the job done.

Once Tao had been patched up and downed some ibuprofen he asked her if his crew had dropped anything off for her. She unceremoniously shoved a shoe box of various supplies into his hands.

“I haven’t gone through it yet,” Faye said, “Looks like quality stuff.”

“Yeah, well…” Tao shuffled through the spare sling and packets of bandages to pull out a pill bottle – the antibiotics. “These were for the prisoner we took, and I think he still needs some of it.”

Faye scoffed.

“That’s good medicine, and we’re wasting it on some fash bastard? Tell me you’re not serious.”

Tao shrugged weakly in the face of her ire.

“Geneva convention?”

~~~

Tao escaped the infirmary without any new injuries and made his way back to the HQ with the shoebox tucked under his arm. Inside he found Vic, bouncing on his heels and practically glowing as he scrolled on a tablet.

“You’re never going to believe this!” Vic crowed.

“What is it? You retrieve the van data?” Tao grinned, certain his scientist theory would pay off.

“Yeah we did! And guess who our little friend in there is.”

“Just spit it out, Vic!”

“He’s the Commander’s whore. Listen to this.”

Tao found himself spinning between Vic’s infectious delight and a horrible sinking feeling. He opened his mouth but was cut off by a compressed, crackly recording emitting from Vic’s tablet.

“Home base, this is transport 562, we have departed Conservatory with the fucktoy, en route to home, ETA 07:00, over.

“Transport 562, this is home base, we read you, please be advised to keep your language clean on the coms, over.”

“Yes sir, revise to: we have departed with the… boytoy. Over.”

“…”

“The Commander’s main squeeze? Over.”

“Jeremy I swear to God-”

Vic stopped the recording with a cackle.

“Can you believe it? No wonder he didn’t want to tell us what his job was!”

Vic continued to laugh, slapping his knee, and Tao felt a hollow, automatic chuckle escape his own mouth. Because… it was funny… right?

“Can you imagine what kind of… literal ass-kisser this dude must be?” Vic wheezed, nearly tearing up, “Who in their right mind would fuck that Palpatine-lookin’ motherfucker-”

“Hey, let me see that.” Tao dropped the shoebox of medical supplies on the table and grabbed at the tablet. Vic handed it over, sinking into a chair.

“Oh shit, who fucks who? D’you think -” Vic’s words were consumed by his own laughter as Tao scrolled frantically through the info scraped from the van. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was looking for, but he found the Conservatory’s visit summary.

“Lark.” No surname.

Based on his birthdate, he’s… 22. Shit.

“Arrived with compound fractures of both the radius and ulna, and severe infection. Patient reports arm was broken twice and set improperly the first time. Patient is unclear when the infection set in.” …Twice?

“Pain management disregarded upon request of the payee.”

Tao dropped the tablet to the table with a clatter and scrabbled at the shoe box, upturning the contents and spreading them out with shaking hands. Vic stared at him, finally coming down from his hysterics.

“What’re you doing?”

“There’s no pain meds!”

“What?”

Tao grabbed the antibiotics and rushed past Vic towards the back room.

“Woah!” Vic jumped up to follow him, “Shouldn’t we wait for Becca?”

Tao ignored him, unbolting the door and flinging it open.

“Lark-”

Tao choked.

In stark contrast to his stiff, prim, upright posture earlier, Lark now sat slumped over, head on the table.

“Hey!” Tao shouted at him. Vic came in to stand beside him, cursing.

Lark didn’t move.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Tao darted around the table, stuffing the antibiotics into his pocket. He put one hand under Lark’s head and one on his shoulder and tried to lift him up without upsetting the broken arm, only to find it already pulled awkwardly out of the sling by the shackled weight of the boy’s other arm. Luckily the cast was holding strong. Lark’s head lolled back, and his eyelids fluttered. His color was even worse than it was earlier and his forehead was hot and slippery with sweat under Tao’s hand.

“Help me!” Tao waved Vic over, “Undo the shackles!”

“Are you sure-”

“Does he look like he’s going to escape, Vic?! Get your head out of your ass!”

Vic hustled over and Tao eased Lark’s broken arm back into the sling and held it steady as Vic sorted through his key ring and unlocked the shackles. Lark let out a tiny, pained whimper that made Tao want to throw up.

“Shit, okay, we gotta – we gotta get him to Faye!”

Vic kicked the shackles out of the way.

“Are you sure-?”

“Vic, I swear I will explain what I think is happening here, but he needs help first.”

Vic hesitated, but understood that stopping to argue would get them nowhere. He nodded.

“Thank you. Okay, Lark?” Tao placed a hand on Lark’s burning cheek to gently tilt his face towards his own. “We’re gonna help you walk a little ways, can you do that for me?”

Lark’s eyes fluttered open, and his unfocused gaze wandered over Tao’s face. His eyes abruptly filled with tears, and he took in a sharp breath.

“Please,” he whispered, “Please don’t break my arm again.”

Tao looked up and met Vic’s solemn stare. The other man had finally grasped that something was wrong.

This was going to be a lot more complicated than they thought.

~~~

Masterlist, Next

Taglist: @angst-after-dark, @sunshiline-writes, @flowersarefreetherapy

[jetstarred]

what i listened to in october 2024!

total albums: 9 top 3 favs: chromakopia (tyler, the creator), lp2 (secret band), no place (a lot like birds) click read more for full reviews :3

VII Magia Infinita (2024) - Zeta (2024)

Fav song: III Sufrir - 2024

This album is short, at 30 minutes long with 7 tracks. But I’ve listened to albums with twice as long of a tracklist that were shorter in length, so for once I’m not bothered by how long this album is. It’s a beautiful post-rock album that does a great job combining the Afro-Caribbean sound into the music. The tracks switch between being full instrumental songs and having some vocals, although the vocals tend to let the instruments take center stage. This might be the first album that I saw performed live before listening to it on my own. During the last song, the entire band played different percussion parts, along with Hail the Sun’s drummer. It’s one of the most unique things I’ve ever seen and made me appreciate very heavily the instrumentation on that song, and this album overall. I’m very excited for Zeta’s upcoming album and hope very desperately I’ll be able to catch them live next year.

Rating: 7/10

LP2 - Secret Band (2019)

Fav song: Black Dolphin

This album might be the closest thing to metal that I listen to and really enjoy. This album sounds like I’m in a grungy edgy video game that’s inspired by Doom but meant to be realistic. Thank you to the members of Dgd for creating this side project because it expands on some of my favorite aspects of that band. Matt’s heavy “machine gun” drums and Jon’s crazy screaming that sounds like he’s gonna throw up are two things I wish I got more of in Dgd so this is perfect for me. All the songs sound really similar so if you enjoy this type of music, this is a great album for you to listen to. I do think there’s enough variety and special moments in each song to make them stand out and make this an enjoyable album for me personally. Overall, I really like this album and I think it’s a fantastic hardcore addition to my music library.

Rating: 8/10

New Hell - Greet Death (2019)

Fav song: Crush

This album is so crazy for me front to back. The beginning song is so intense in a melancholic way and it just stays that emotional the entire time. It feels so reflective and like just stewing in these feelings of longing and sadness that I’m pretty familiar with. The atmosphere doesn't let up, feeling almost like I’m suffocating on stuffy air. I can almost hear the wind rustling through the leaves.

Rating: 7/10

MG Ultra - Machine Girl (2024)

Fav song: Sick!!

This album is a lot of the same from Machine Girl. Which is great because I love their music! It doesn't feel particularly inventive or like they're trying too many new things. That could be a bad thing for some people but honestly I don't mind at all. This album doesn't blow my mind as much as some of their previous albums, which does kinda bring it down for me. But I feel like this is a solid entry in their discography with some songs that could become personal favorites with further listening. I will say I do like the vibe this album has, like grimy futuristic industrial, and how it stays in that zone pretty much the entire time. Overall, I do think it’s a solid album, although it didn’t wow me.

Rating: 6/10

Acceptance Speech - Dance Gavin Dance (2013)

Fav song: Demo Team

This album is insane for opening with Jesus H. Macy.  It’s truly a song that feels like they’re hitting you over the head while simultaneously getting you comfortable with hearing the familiar vocals from Jon, then giving way to Tilian’s singing. This was his first album with the band, and it feels like he came in with something to prove. This album feels like the band building upon what they did on the previous albums, especially Dbm II, but bringing a new polish that makes everything sound grander than it has previously. Every song feels determined, like they’ve come back with a vengeance. Which makes sense when you consider that they thought Dbm II would be their last album before breaking up. Back to the songs themselves, Acceptance Speech has become one of my favorite title tracks that I’ve discovered this year. I really love when a title track matches the overall vibe of the album it’s on, and Acceptance Speech delivers. It carries the exact tone of determination, vengeance, and having something to prove that I’ve already mentioned. I also have to highlight Turn Off the Lights, I’m Watching Back To The Future as a really interesting closer. It carries such a specific energy that is rarely found throughout the album. Overall, this album gives me a similar overwhelming feeling that Conversation Piece gave me, but in a less chaotic way. I quite enjoy it, even if Tilian is my least favorite of all the clean vocalists they’ve had. 

Rating: 7/10

How It Feels To Be Something On - Sunny Day Real Estate (1998)

Fav song: How It Feels To Be Something On

This album's atmosphere is so intriguing to me. It feels warm like a radiator. Definitely reminds me of sitting in the basement during late fall. Overall, I really like the music on this album. It has a groove to it that makes it very enjoyable. The vocals are also kinda unique compared to what I usually listen to in a way that draws me in. I will say that all the songs stay in this very similar sound which makes them blend together a bit for me. So while this album didn’t blow me away, I still thoroughly enjoyed it.

Rating: 7/10

Audible to Animals - Marigold (2005)

Fav song: Into Acceptance

This album is kinda in it’s own space. There’s moments where it reminds me of other bands, mainly Circa Survive. But overall, kinda unique in a way I really appreciate. I love Vadim’s vocals and how light and airy they are while not sounding very high pitched. Feels almost like he's talking in a melodic way. The music is also a little theatrical which can be hit or miss for me, and this time it's a hit. I like the choice to have two fully instrumental tracks sprinkled into the album. It creates a very specific vibe that also makes this album flow nicely. It almost feels like there's a story being told and I really like that.

Rating: 7/10

No Place - A Lot Like Birds (2013)

Fav song: Next to Ungodliness

This album gave me the same sort of overwhelming feeling Conversation Piece gave me on the first listen. It feels more frantic than Conversation Piece, making me feel like I’m panicking over some impending doom. Overall this album builds upon the sound laid out in Conversation Piece, making an effort to experiment a bit more with the structure of the album as well as the individual songs.

Rating: 8/10

Chromakopia - Tyler, the Creator (2024)

Fav song: Rah Tah Tah

This album was a surprise addition to the list of Tyler albums I needed to listen to this year, and I think the fact I went through his discog for the first time this year helped me appreciate this album so much more. It’s such a clear product of Tyler’s continued growth and maturation throughout his musical career. This album feels more artistic and intimate than Call Me If You Get Lost, with a lot of care taken towards every element. It explores a lot more personal topics about Tyler’s life, with each song tackling a different specific topic. The music reflects this also, with a lot of elements taken from traditional African music showing up and mixing with the typical hip-hop sound Tyler has cultivated. The way this album flows is perfect to me, I genuinely have nothing negative to say about it. Spending time listening to this album and really getting familiar with it has made it become my favorite Tyler album, edging out Igor which has held that spot since I started listening to Tyler back in 2019.

Rating: 9/10

[balanchine-ballet-master]

The Story of the Original "Tea" Dancer

There was a delightful story in the Times on February 4th about George Lee, on whom Balanchine created the Tea variation in The Nutcracker. Here it is.

From Ballet to Blackjack, a Dance Pioneer’s Amazing Odyssey

George Lee was the original Tea in “George Balanchine’s The Nutcracker.” A documentary filmmaker found him and a lost part of ballet history in Las Vegas.

By Siobhan Burke Feb. 4, 2024

Among the blaring lights and all-hours amusements of downtown Las Vegas, in a sea of slot machines at the Four Queens Hotel and Casino, George Lee sits quietly at a blackjack table, dealing cards eight hours a day, five days a week, a job he’s been doing for more than 40 years.

Lee, 88, was likely in his usual spot when the filmmaker Jennifer Lin was sifting through old photos at the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts in 2022, wondering what had become of a dancer with a notable place in ballet history. Pictured in a publicity shot for the original production of “George Balanchine’s The Nutcracker,” in the role known as Tea, was a young Asian dancer identified as George Li.

For Lin, a veteran newspaper reporter turned documentarian, the picture raised intriguing questions. In 1954, when the photo was taken, it was rare to see dancers of color on the stage of New York City Ballet, the company Balanchine co-founded. Who was this young man, this breaker of racial barriers, this pioneer? Was he still alive? And if so, what was he up to? “I became absolutely obsessed with trying to find out what happened to George Li,” Lin said in a video interview.

In just over a year, that obsession has blossomed into a short film, “Ten Times Better,” that chronicles the unexpected story of Lee’s life: from his childhood in 1940s Shanghai, where his performing career began; to a refugee camp in the Philippines, where he fled with his mother, a Polish ballet dancer, in 1949; to New York City and the School of American Ballet, where Balanchine cast him in “The Nutcracker” to “Flower Drum Song” on Broadway, his first of many musical theater gigs; and ultimately, to Las Vegas, where he left dance for blackjack dealing in 1980. (He changed the spelling of his last name in 1959, when he became a United States citizen.)

The film will have its premiere on Feb. 10 as part of the Dance on Camera Festival at Film at Lincoln Center. Lee, who last visited New York in 1993, will be in town for the occasion, an opportunity for long-overdue recognition.

“So many years I haven’t done ballet,” Lee said over coffee at the Four Queens on a recent Sunday, after his shift. “And then suddenly Jennifer comes and tries to bring everything up. To me, it was like a shock.”

George Lee today. He has been a blackjack dealer in Las Vegas for more than 40 years. Photo: Saeed Rahbaran for The New York Times

But Lin’s interest has been welcome. “Jennifer is so perfect, she knows exactly everything,” he said. “She knows my background more than I do.”

Lin was not the only one who had been searching for Lee. In 2017, while organizing an exhibition on “The Nutcracker,” Arlene Yu, who worked for the New York Public Library at the time and is now Lincoln Center’s head archivist, was puzzled by the relatively few traces of him in the library’s vast dance collection.

“I think I’d tracked him down to 1961, but after that, it was really hard to find anything,” she said. “Whereas if you look at some of his peers in ‘The Nutcracker’ in 1954, they went on to careers where there was a lot more documentation.”

Lin’s fascination with Lee emerged through her work on another film, about Phil Chan and Georgina Pazcoguin, the founders of Final Bow for Yellowface, an initiative focused on ending offensive depictions of Asians in ballet. The role of Tea, a divertissement historically rife with such stereotypes—in Balanchine’s canonical version of “The Nutcracker” and others—has been a flashpoint in those efforts. Chan, too, had been struck by the 1954 images of “The Nutcracker,” which he came across during a library fellowship in 2020.

“I’m like, wait, there’s actually a Chinese guy,” he said — as opposed to a non-Chinese dancer with the saffron makeup or heavily painted eyes or even the artificial buck teeth worn in some old productions. “Who is this guy? And why do I not know about him?”

The "Tea" variation in The Nutcracker at City Ballet in 2015. The dancers are Ralph Ippolito, Claire Von Enck, and Baily Jones. Photo: Andrea Mohin for The New York Times

Lee, in his heyday, was a dancer to know. At just 12, he was already winning public praise. In a preview of a recital of the King-Yanover School in Shanghai, the North China Daily News called him an “extremely promising young Chinese boy, whose technique is of a very high standard.” A reviewer wrote that he “already may be said to be the best Chinese interpreter of Western ballet.” (Lee saved these newspaper clippings and shared them with Lin when they eventually met.)

Born in Hong Kong in 1935, Lee moved to Shanghai with his mother in 1941, when Shanghai was under Japanese occupation. During World War II, his father, a Chinese acrobat, was in Kunming in western China; he died in an accident on his way to visit Lee in 1945.

Lee’s mother, Stanislawa Lee, who had danced with the Warsaw Opera, was his first ballet teacher; as a child, he would follow along with her daily barre exercises. Shanghai had a significant Russian population, and with that a robust ballet scene. To earn money, Stanislawa arranged for her son to perform in nightclubs—“like a polka dance, or Russian dance, or sailor dance,” Lee said. The clubs would pay them in rice.

Little George Li in his Shanghai days. Photo: George Lee private collection via the NY Times

Fearing the Chinese Communist Party’s takeover in 1949, the two evacuated to the Philippines. An expected four months as refugees turned into two years. In 1951, an American friend of Lee’s father sponsored them to come to New York, where he introduced Lee to the School of American Ballet, City Ballet’s affiliated school.

As Lee narrates these twists and turns in the film, one memory anchors his recollections. Before they immigrated, his mother issued a warning. “You are going to America, it’s all white people, and you better be 10 times better,” he recalls her saying. “Remember that: 10 times better!”

The footage of Lee in his 20s suggests he took that advice to heart. In television appearances — with the company of the ballet star André Eglevsky, and in a number from “Flower Drum Song” on the Ed Sullivan Show — his power and precision dazzle.

“He was good; he was really good,” Chan said. “Clean fifth, high jump, polished turns, stick the landing—the training is all there. He’s already 10 times better than everybody else.”

In a 1979 interview heard in the film, the former City Ballet soloist Richard Thomas, who took over the role of Tea, raves about Lee’s peerless acrobatic jumps: “He was wonderful! Balanchine choreographed a variation for him that none of us have ever been able to equal.”

As Lee remembers it, Balanchine spent 15 minutes with him in the studio. “He said, ‘What can you do good? Show me what you can do good,’ so I show him something,” Lee said. “I did things like splits and double turns, down and up, turn again like a ball, and that’s it. He picked up some things and put them together.”

George Li as a student at the School of American Ballet. Photo: George Lee private collection via the NY Times

He recalled that during a “Nutcracker” dress rehearsal, the City Ballet makeup artist put him in full yellowface, and Balanchine insisted he take off the makeup. “He is Asian enough! Why do you make him more?” he remembers Balanchine saying. Lee was costumed in the Fu Manchu mustache, queue ponytail and rice paddy hat often associated with the role, now widely critiqued as racist caricatures. But he said he didn’t take offense. “Dancing is dancing,” he said.

Lee performed in “The Nutcracker” as a student; he was never invited to join City Ballet. But he clearly excelled in his classes and onstage. For that, he credits his strong foundation of Russian training in China — and his mother’s exacting standards. He can still see her standing in the studio doorway at the School of American Ballet, observing closely.

“She was watching the class and then would go home and tell me, ‘You did this wrong or that wrong, you got to do it this way,’” he said. “So I really worked hard, and I was good.” (His favorite teacher at the school was the demanding Anatole Oboukhoff: “He always wanted more, and that’s why I liked him very much.”)

To make a living Lee turned to musical theater, performing in shows like “Baker Street” on Broadway and the cabaret “Carol Channing with her 10 Stout-Hearted Men,” which opened in London. He pieced together jobs for more than 20 years, often unsure of what would come next.

Lee in flight in a production of “Flower Drum Song” in Las Vegas in the early 1960s. Photo: George Lee personal collection via the NY Times

He was dancing in a Vegas revue, “Alcazar de Paris,” now in his 40s, when a blackjack dealer friend suggested he go to dealer school. “I can’t dance all my life,” he remembers thinking. He decided to give dealing a try and soon landed a job at the Four Queens. Aside from four years at another casino, he has worked there ever since.

In December 2022, he got a voice mail message from Lin. With her reporting skills and some crucial assists from Yu, she had determined that he lived in Las Vegas. Of the five phone numbers she found for George Lees, four led nowhere; his was the last she tried.

When they finally connected, she put her other project on hold to focus on his story; she and her small creative team had a final cut by November. “George is 88, and I wanted him to be able to enjoy this moment, where people recognize him for his dancing,” she said.

As he prepares to return to New York, Lee said he felt gratified, most of all, for his mother.

“I’m proud for her that I didn’t let her down,” he said. “It makes me feel better to look up at her and say: ‘Look, mother, now you see what’s happening, what you did for me. You gave me all the good foundation, everything. Through you, I’m here now.’”

George Lee today. Photo: Saeed Rahbaran for The New York Times