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ramp-it-up · 7 days ago

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Peach V

Peach IV | Peach VI

Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is a mob boss trying to get clean. Maybe it’s because he’s in love. With you. He's got you on his turf in NYC. Are you finally willing to admit that you want to be with him?

Pairing: Art Dealer/Philanthopist (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)

A/N: I love these two like I can’t explain. The slow burn speeds up a lil bit in this. There’s some action. 🥹 This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and DIRECTLY AFTER the events in the Steve Rogers fic Peach IV. Your interaction keeps me writing, so let me know if you like it by commenting and reblogging.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Angst. Slow burn, EXTREME Mutual pining, idiots in love, lusting, dancing lessons, use of the words ‘mad’ and ‘crazy,’ Bucky is a jerk, boy do you get jealous. Kissing and heavy petting in the form of oral sex, female receiving. Lil bit of Dom Steve if you squint. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

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------

“Welcome to SOB’s.”

You were one of the first awardees up to present to the group. Each recipient picked a NYC area artistic landmark to research and lead the others on a tour, discussing the significance to the art form for which they received funding.

As always, you were going outside of the box.

You looked around and concentrated on not staring at Steve. He looked so fine, foregoing his tailored sport coats this evening for a black pullover pushed up on his hairy, corded forearms.

Dark jeans clung to his thighs and black boots encased his huge feet. What he was wearing highlighted every physical attribute that made you weak. He was quite the distraction, but you were a professional.

You smiled at your cousin and Bucky, who were beaming at you, and began.

“Sounds of Brazil isn’t just a club—it’s a melting pot of culture, rhythm, and history that’s been bringing global sounds to the city since 1982.”

You moved around the relatively small dark space, but then a screen came down on the stage and a slide show of performances danced across it, with accompanying music flowing from the speakers.

“SOB’s started as a space to showcase Brazilian, Latin, Caribbean, and African music, and quickly became a go-to spot for hip-hop, R&B, and reggae too. The Afro-Caribbean Queen herself, Ms. Celia Cruz, as well as Marc Anthony, J Cole, HER and Mac Miller (rest his soul) have all rocked this stage.”

You were silent for a moment and then continued.

“This place is more than music; it’s about community, culture, and the celebration of diverse sounds. For me, dance is life. And it’s music such as what was fostered here that inspires me. It’s places like this that give life to the creativity of my art and my soul.”

“The vibe here is immaculate. It’s intimate, electric, and always unpredictable. Just imagine the countless artists who’ve poured their souls into performances right on this stage.This isn’t just a club, it’s a meld of culture, rhythm, and history that’s been bringing global sounds to the city since 1982.”

The video and music turned to Celia Cruz’s “Toro Mata” and three beautiful women, who looked like showgirls, came from backstage.

“In February, Salsa Groove starts at SOB’s with free salsa lessons, happy hour, and many other fun things. These ladies are here to give us a preview, so find a partner and let’s dance!”

Sharon moved toward Steve, but Sam grabbed her and she plastered on a fake smile. You smiled over at your cousin who was currently in the process of being caught up in the arms of James Buchanan Barnes.

Activity swirled around you as the dance instructors organized groups to teach, but you and Steve were left in the center of the dance floor.

You smiled at him.

“Looks like I get to teach you Mr. Rogers.”

“Lucky me. Hope your feet survive.”

His sexy chuckle did you in as you slid into his arms. You placed your arms in the right position, but shifted to help him adjust.

“Relax your shoulders,” you murmured, stepping closer and running your hand along his broad trapezius muscles.

Your voice was warm and laced with patience as you looked into his eyes.

“Salsa isn’t just about the steps. It’s about how you feel the music.”

“I feel it,” replied Steve, swallowing as he watched your hips move effortlessly with the rhythm. You made it look easy, natural and beautiful. He, on the other hand, felt a little bit out of sync, out of breath, and out of his depth.

You took his hand, lacing your fingers through his, your palms pressing together and conducting electricity.

“Start with the basics,” you whispered, guiding him.

“One, two, three: back. Five, six, seven: forward.”

Steve looked down to catch the rhythm and you pulled his arm around you tighter, causing you two to meld even closer together.

“Don’t overthink it. Just listen to me.”

Steve nodded and looked into the kaleidoscope depths of your eyes.

And he listened.

He listened to the way your breath hitched as his hand slid to your waist.

And he noticed.

He noticed the way your eyes flickered to his lips when you moved together in sync, your bodies sinfully connected.

“That’s it,” you said, your voice lower now, “Now, feel me.”

You guided his hand to your lower back, and his fingers instinctively pulled you more firmly against him. This power from him made you high along with the way your body fit against his.

You moved in perfect harmony.

“Better,” you murmured as you watched his mouth again.

Steve was found himself smiling, his steps more fluid now, as if he’d been dancing with you forever. His confidence grew with each turn, each time your bodies came in contact.

And when you finally spun into him, your palm resting against his chest, your breaths mingling in the space between you, he knew this wasn’t just a dance.

It was his chance.

Steve was about to lean in to kiss you when a slow clap began, started by Sharon.

You both looked around, surprised there was anyone else there. The music had stopped.

“Great job, Mr. Rogers. You made that look convincing.”

Sharon’s voice grated on your nerves but you had to laugh at your cousin giving her the gas face. You just rolled your eyes. Not even she could bring you down at the moment.

“SOB’s opened early just for us, we have another hour to dance and have fun. I’d love to talk more if you all are inspired. Have fun!”

Steve stood back and admired you, his creative queen, as the others swarmed around you.

—-

The way you moved made Steve Rogers feverish.

The sway of your hips hypnotized him and he had to concentrate very much to appear unbothered. The smell of you made his cock thicken and gotdamn, when you laughed his stomach did flips.

He’d pay a million dollars to the first person who convinced you to kiss him.

He’d pay you ten million for each kiss you’d give him willingly.

Steve was down bad.

The nail in his coffin was your creativity and bravery; the way you shared your opinions on your art and everything else made him mad with desire.

He now fully understood Bucky’s insistence to get fully clean. Steve was glad they were so close to the finish line and was willing to beat Bucky there.

Steve was determined to be the good man you once thought he was.

—---

Over the next couple of days, your heart raced each time you watched Steve across whatever rooms you were in. His six foot plus form dominated every space and his natural affinity for art was so fucking appealing.

You finally admitted to yourself that you were feeling him, although the issue of whether you could trust him would not die. But when he looked at you with those baby blues, you got weak. There was definitely a connection and a chemistry that you couldn’t resist for much longer.

You couldn’t deny it any more.

But that didn’t stop you from trying.

—--

Sharon would not stop talking. You were unfortunate enough to sit near her on the Sprinter as it took you back to the hotel for the mid-day break on Wednesday. She was going on about her meeting with Steve to Lily from Montana.

Each recipient had meetings scheduled with Sam, Steve, Bucky and Natasha, another requirement of the week. Frequently, the meetings included a meal. It must have been a dizzying pace for them, but you’d really enjoyed your coffee with Sam and lunch with Natasha. They were cool people.

And of course your dinner with Bucky was amazing. You couldn’t wait for him to be your cousin, although he remained coy about proposing no matter how much you pressed him about the holiday trip.

“I mean my meeting with Steve was convenient this morning. He was right there and we were already in our comfortable clothing… the breakfast place was perfect…”

Your ears perked up at that.

“I just woke up so sore this morning. It’s all Steve’s fault…and then he had the nerve to do it again…”

Your mind filled in the gaps and your blood started to boil.

This must be why he hadn’t been around that morning. He was recovering from fucking with Sharon. Rational thought was out the window and you couldn’t see anything but red.

Instead of going up to your room to rest, you walked the four blocks to the Rebirth building.

Your spine was straight and your chin was up as you entered the gallery, passed Natasha and headed to Steve’s office. He came to stand at the door as you approached, obviously warned that you were coming. He was in shirtsleeves, his black button-down clinging to his muscular frame, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms.

You blinked because he looked dangerously, devastatingly handsome in a way that was almost too much to look at directly. His mesmerizing blue eyes locked with yours, and the rest of the world disappeared. For a moment, you were frozen, ready to fuck him or spring into battle.

Just then, Bucky Barnes bounded out of a door near Steve’s, looking like a black lab, and headed in the same direction you were.

“Yo, Steve. I think that we should… oh shit! Peach!”

You couldn’t help but smile at Bucky, who looked cute in a black pullover with his curly hair tousled. Over Thanksgiving weekend, you’d grown to like him a lot.

Bucky Barnes obviously loved his friends. He also was a good guy, despite his line of work. The way he loved your cousin had earned your respect.

You smiled and held your hand out for him to shake.

“Hullo Bunny… eep!”

He pulled you toward him, drawing you into a hug and twirling you out into a salsa spin, causing you to laugh.

“It’s Bucky, Mr. Barnes if you’re nasty!”

You were shaking with laughter.

“Oh gawd! Does my cousin know that you are so corny?”

Bucky had mellowed your harsh.

Momentarily.

“It’s part of why she keeps coming back, Peach.”

Bucky winked at you and instantly you understood the appeal. You grinned up at Bucky, lightly slapping him on the arm as he laughed at you.

Someone cleared their throat and Bucky smirked over at Steve. Then, he caught the drift.

“I can see that you have important business to attend to with this Punk. Catch you later.”

Suddenly you didn’t want to have this conversation, because the way Steve was looking at you was too intense. You didn’t move. You felt Bucky’s warm hands on your shoulders and you were compelled to move forward.

“Onward. Into the fray.”

You glared over your shoulder at Bucky and then looked back at Steve.

“Mr. Rogers.”

Steve’s jaw clenched and he greeted you in kind.

“Ms. Y/LN. Is there something I can help you with?”

He walked into his office and you followed him, making sure to leave the door open. Steve's gaze slowly dragged down your body and back up again until it settled on your mouth. You felt that look like a physical touch, making your clothes feel irrelevant. You took a deep breath to keep from shedding them right there.

“Yes, Mr. Rogers. I need you to be honest with me.”

Normally, that was a throwaway comment, but Steve knew how important him being honest was to you, so he nodded, cleared his throat and said, “Of course,” while looking you in those beautiful eyes.

“Did you fuck Sharon Carter last night?”

Steve’s eyes widened in shock. He blinked a few times to digest your question. Then he answered it. Blood rushed in his head.

I’m gonna kill the mutherfucker that said that, he thought. But he was calm when he replied.

“No. I was very much alone last night.”

Missing you, he thought.

“Did you fuck her this morning?”

Steve put his file down on his desk and leaned back on it, crossing his arms.

“Absolutely not. She showed up at my gym, for the second day in a row. I helped her with some technique and then had our meeting in a coffee shop. Who is spreading this rumor that’s got you so worked up?”

He would find the fucking liar and strangle them to death.

“That bitch is going around insinuating to everyone…”

Then you realized what was going on. You closed your mouth. Sharon.

That bitch. Why were you letting some hoe rag get to you?

“Never mind. You’re absolutely right. I don’t care.”

You raised your chin like the regal queen you were and Steve wanted to fall at your feet.

“Well for your information, I’m not interested in Sharon Carter. As a matter of fact…”

All I want is you.

Steve looked you in your eyes. God, you were so beautiful.

“I’m taken.”

Your breath caught in your throat and a feeling in between panic and jealousy furled in your stomach at those words. As he looked at you, understanding dawned about what he meant.

This conversation was not going the way you intended it to.

Your eyes moved to avoid Steve’s and it was then you noticed Bucky leaning on Steve’s door frame and snacking while he watched you two.

“Popcorn? Really Bucky???”

Bucky extended the bag to you.

“‘SmartPop. Want some?”

Steve went over and closed the door in Bucky’s face and then turned back to you. You noticed how his bicep bulged when he ran his hand through his hair and your nipples tightened into stiff peaks.

“Sorry to that woman.”

You played dumb, hoping he wouldn’t press the issue. But Steve clocked you. He shook his head and chuckled.

You crossed your arms and jutted your hip out.

“What?...What, Steven!?”

You were the most adorable human he’d ever seen.

“Nothing.”

You turned around to leave and then whirled around again.

“And another thing!”

Steve was smirking now.

“You upgraded me on the airline and at the hotel. Didn’t you? And you gave me more endowment than anyone else. You’re just trying to get in my pants again.”

Steve sighed.

“Okay, so first I fucked Sharon, now I’m trying to get in your pants. You’re going from one extreme to another.”

“Tell me I’m wrong!”

Steve clenched his jaw, but his voice remained even. He really wanted to grab you and spread you over his desk and give you his cock until you calmed down. But baby steps.

He stepped to you and you looking up at him was his Roman Empire.

“You. Are. Wrong.”

His glare was blue ice and you felt just a little bit afraid.

And a lot turned on.

“Do you realize that your cousin helped us out with travel and accommodations?”

You opened your mouth and then closed it.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“And you didn’t get more than anyone else. Russ received $250,000. Awards were scaled according to the project.”

“Ah.”

“And I don’t just want to get in your pants. I want so much more.”

You stood there dumbfounded.

“W-what are you talking about?”

Steve gave you a rueful smile.

“Stop pretending you don’t know. Peach, I–”

You raised your hand to signal stop.

“Ain't nobody got time for this.”

He gazed at you with a sparkle in his eye and licked those red, red lips. But he put his hands up and backed away, still smiling.

“Also. Stop doing that!”

You waved your hand in the direction of this face. You needed him to stop looking at you like that.

He was trying to hold himself back. Your lunacy had him hard. And you not letting him tell you how he felt made him want to make you beg for him. He shook his head to clear his lust.

“Just what am I doing to you, Ms. YLN?”

That voice again. Your eyes shuttered and your pussy pulsed at the answer to that question, but you were determined to get him told.

“Sparkling those eyes down at me like that!”

“Sparkling my eyes…?”

Steve feigned annoyance, but he was enjoying the fuck out of this.

“What does that even mean?”

“You know exactly what it means! Looking at me like.. Like.. like you…Just. Stop.”

He stopped smiling.

“As you wish.”

Steve’s eyes roamed over your face, pausing to look at your lips. Then, he looked back up into your eyes and the sparkle was gone. It was replaced by a warm blue fire that for some reason caused you to shiver. You wanted to fall into it and his arms, but you shook yourself out of it.

“Nope. Don’t do that either.”

Steve huffed as the corner of his mouth hooked upward into a sexy side grin. Your panties couldn’t take it.

“Do wh–? Umph. Ummhmmhhmm!”

You put your hand over Steve’s mouth to stop him from assaulting you with his voice but he kept vocalizing. You realized that Steve’s hand was on your waist and was pulling you closer to him.

Your breasts were pressed up against his rock hard torso and your hand was on his chest. Lord help you, all you needed to do was remove your hand. You stared into those blue depths for half a second and then moved back.

Steve licked his lips when your hand was gone and your body buzzed as he contemplated pulling you back into his arms.

When that look came into his eyes, you gave up.

“Ugh. Never mind. I’ve got to go.”

You straightened your spine again, turned on your heel and marched toward the door.

Steve followed you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw that Bucky was pumping his fist as you made to leave the building. You thought about giving him a piece of your mind, but you had to get out of there; Steve was close behind.

“Peach. Stop running. Calm down.”

You stopped and whirled on him, poking your finger in his chest.

“NEVER tell a mad woman to calm down, Rogers.”

He smiled down at you and your world spun out.

“So you admit that you’re crazy?”

“Fuck you!”

You turned and walked toward your hotel at a steady pace but Steve was right behind you. He followed you back to your hotel lobby and was right there when you pressed the elevator button.

“What do you want, Steve?”

You sideyed him as you looked up at the floor indicator panel.

“You.”

You whipped your head around as the elevator doors opened. Your heart was beating so fast you were sure he could hear it. But then you just wordlessly walked into the elevator as Steve followed closely.

“You feel this thing between us, Peach. I’m not alone in this. I know I’m not.”

He moved close to you as the elevator doors closed, placing one arm on the wall near your head and the other on the railing beside you. You were enveloped in him. But when you looked up at him. Jesus.

“You wish. You think you’re god’s gift to women, Rogers?”

Your whisper was fervent.Your heart was beating out of your chest and your cunt was soaking wet. The electricity was arcing between you in the small space. You felt it in the small of your back.

“Judging by the way you look at me, Peach. I’d say you wish, too.”

You shifted, trying to rub your legs together on the low. There was an ache you needed extinguished.

“Boy, please...��

You were still trying to fight it as Steve moved close, his lips a breath from your ear.

“Not all women. Just you. And you don’t need to beg. Just ask for what you want, Peach.”

He pulled back and you almost chased him, but bit your lip and tried to remain calm.

“I don’t want anything from you, Steven.”

“Now, you’re the liar.” Steve intoned, his jaw working tightly.

When the elevator door opened, you ran out, moving quickly down the hallway to your room. You stood in front of your door and stared at Steve, not opening the door and not speaking.

He looked down the hallway and spoke, anger laced in his tone.

“Open the fucking door and get your sweet ass in that room, Peach.”

You tried to stare him down, but he was determined. And something in those blue eyes made you want to comply.

“I’m not going to repeat myself.”

Your hands shook as you opened your door with Steve breathing down your neck, reminiscent of that night in Atlanta.

Once the door was closed, he stalked toward you, tipping up your chin to meet his intense gaze. His thumb brushed your bottom lip and you suppressed a shudder.

No one had ever made you feel this way with just a touch.

“What do you want from me?”

Your voice was barely a whisper.

Steve leaned in close to reply, his breath fanning your face.

“Stop fucking running from me. I apologize for all the things I’ve done. But now I’m underwater and I’m drowning in my feelings for you.”

Your resistance were just bare thread now. And the last ones frayed into nothing at his proximity.

“Prove it,” you said as you met his gaze.

Steve’s eyes glinted with something you couldn’t read, and his hand moved to your waist.

“Careful now, Peach,” he murmured and bent his head, still not quite kissing you, but driving you crazy.

“You don’t scare me,” you whispered.

“No?”

His hand was on your back now, moving you impossibly closer.

“I think that I do. I think the feelings you have for me terrify you.”

His lush lips crashed down on yours, and you were completely lost to the way he devoured you, all heat and hunger and lust. Your tongues tangled and danced, and you moaned into his mouth.

Steve broke away to nip down your jaw.

“Taste so fucking sweet, Peach. ‘S all I could think about this past month.”

His hands slid down your body to palm your ass, pulling you close and making you feel how hard he was for you. Damn he was big. He was right, you’d probably struggle to take him, but god you wanted to try right now.

Slowly, Steve lowered his head again, watching you intently as his lips capture yours. The kiss started off slow and delicious, then it deepened, growing more passionate, more demanding. Your fingers tangled in his thick hair, pulling him closer. And when you came up for air, you were both breathing hard. He leaned his forehead on yours.

“I want every single part of you, Peach,” he said roughly. “Not just your body.”

Your heart swelled. There was no more holding back now.

“D’you think you can… can you think about trusting me with your heart?”

You hesitated and he knew he needed to get you not to get back in your head. He settled into the large couch and pulled you into his lap. His hands on your body was like nothing else.

“You feel fucking amazing.”

Before he knew it, Steve wrapped a hand around your neck and pulled you down to his mouth. He nipped at your lower lip, then soothed the tender flesh with his tongue, leaving you a trembling mess.

He lifted his hand and ran a finger down the side of your neck; the touch was light but somehow burned.

“Tell me you don’t think about being mine?”

You only whimper in answer, your stubbornness still in control.

He shook his head as he leaned down and followed the trail of his finger with his lips.

It felt so good that you tilted your head to the side with a soft sigh, giving him better access. Steve took full advantage, trailing kisses back up to the sensitive spot behind your ear that made you shiver.

“Fuck, Steve.”

You hooked your leg around his waist and rolled your hips against his like he was a pole. You arched your back and attempted to ride him to get some satisfaction to your core, which was

aching and weeping.

“No. We’re not gonna fuck. Not until you tell me you’re mine. But we can play.”

He arched a dark blonde eyebrow as he kissed down your cleavage and one big hand cupped your breast over your shirt and the other reached down to slip inside your panties.

“You wanna play, Peach? You’re absolutely soaked Sweetheart. Want me to make you feel good?”

It was his one mission in life, and he could do it all day, bring you pleasure.

You pouted up at him, but you couldn’t resist. This high was too addictive.

“Yes, Stevie. Please. Make me feel good.”

He growled lowly when you arched into his touch. You felt the hard length of him pressing against your core, and you reached down to palm him through his pants.

“Fuck. You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Suddenly, your bra was pulled down and his mouth was closing over your nipple, sucking and teasing. He moved lower, getting on his knees beside the couch.

He stopped manhandling you long enough to unbutton his shirt and damn, did you pay attention.

You bit your finger as those muscular shoulders and biceps and chest came into view. Your eyes followed the happy trail that flowed down his six pack and damn the bugle in his pants was big.

That shocked look on your face when you met his eyes again was so hot that Steve wanted to fucking ruin you, but he decided have settle for just tasting you.

“Don’t want you to get my shirt wet, Sweetheart.”

He winked and then reached underneath your skirt to find your panties.

You scrambled up on your hands and scoffed.

“It’s like that?”

Steve grabbed your thighs and pulled them apart, making your skirt ride up.

You leaned back and smiled as he winked and nodded.

He hiked your legs over his shoulders and a second later, his mouth was between them, his tongue teasing the skin near where you really wanted him to be.

You grabbed his hair and ground against his face, already desperate for more. And when he licked straight through the center of you, a scream started in your throat but you stifled it, looking down to see Steve’s eyes twinkle up at you.

He kept you pinned against the couch, gripping your hips with those big, strong hands and holding you in place. His tongue traveled up and down your slit, between your folds, and slid inside your wet cunt.

Your entire body trembled as his tongue toyed with your clit. You felt his smile as he started circling his tongue around the small bundle of nerves.

“Fuck! Give me more!”

Your eyes rolled as two of his long thick fingers entered you and scissored before quickly finding the pile of sensitive flesh inside you. He massaged it and at the same time leaned down to suck your clit into his mouth. It was at that point that your orgasm hit you like a wave.

“Steveeeee! Godddd!”

You screamed as your pussy simultaneously clenched and squirted fluid into Steve’s waiting mouth. Your vision went white, and all the air was sucked out of the room.

Slowly, your surroundings came back into focus. Steve kissed the inside of your thigh, then stood up, watching you with an intensity that made your heart stutter in your chest.

“The way you scream my name makes a man wanna buy you jewels Peach.”

His beard was wet and his voice was raspy, but you reached for him and he leaned down to kiss you, letting you taste your essence on his tongue.

Then, he pulled away and found your bathroom. You stared at the ceiling as the water ran and you assumed he was cleaning up. He returned with his shirt on and a warm towel to help you clean up.

He watched as you shed your clothes, sensuality on display only for him. You reached for his pants and he grabbed your wrists, shaking his head.

“Like I said. That was fun. But you’ve got to make a decision, Peach. Do you want me like I want you?”

The words were right there in your throat, but they refused to come out.

You just stared at him.

Steve smiled at you ruefully.

“Okay. It’s all right. I’m not giving up. Just giving you space.”

He handed you the fluffy white robe that was in the bathroom and you put it on to follow him to the door of your suite.

“See you tomorrow after the Summit for our meeting.”

He kissed you goodbye on the cheek and the dance you and Steve Rogers did continued as you watched him walk away from you.

——-

Hope you liked it! Interaction gives me lifeeeeee! Read, comment, reblog, like. TIA 🥰

Read the next part, Peach VI

#steve rogers #Steve Rogers #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #Chris Evans #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mob boss!steve rogers #mob boss!Bucky Barnes #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #kyd ask #ask dj #peach fic #knock you down fic

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red-bat-arse · 1 year ago

Text

I Got a Problem 🎸🎶🎻

AO3

Chapter One

Eddie 'The Freak' Munson, famous for bringing rock to new heights with his band Hellfire, listens to everything but Country. 'King' Steve Harrington, leading light of the new generation of traditional Country artists, has a few thoughts about that.

=<+>=

Eddie Munson did not normally find himself accused of being musically pigeonholed.

He'd played alongside punk bands in his early touring days, and grew up on jazz and the blues from his mum and uncle. His hits on the pop charts prompted a few collaborations with electronic and indie artists, and his sophomore album featured a few rappers who wanted to get experience with rock. Metal was his bread and butter, he had a soft spot for soulful folk ballads, and given his close friendship with Argyle he was more than familiar with reggae and funk and all varieties of stoner music.

Of course, you could probably guess that the exception to all that was the ever contentious genre of country. However that wouldn't be a problem, wouldn't even be on Eddie's radar, if not for the batshit insane decision Hopper made in a diner three blocks away from the studio the week prior.

Eddie scowled and shot Jeff another look when his vocalist snickered at his expense. On the other side of the room this party was happening in, he could see Steve Harrington talking with Dustin and laughing at whatever the kid was frantically gesturing about.

He was dressed in a embroidered beige western shirt with pearls on the long cuffs, blue jeans with a brown belt and a big copper buckle, and honest to god cowboy boots that matched the ensemble. His hair was styled high and his biceps strained the shirt sleeves a little, and when he turned on his heel to follow Dustin's pointer figure Eddie was briefly overcome with lust at the amazing ass in his direct line of sight.

"I don't care," he pronounced finally, twitching as Harrington spun back and ruffled Dustin's hair, grinning wide when the kid squawked in outrage. Jeff outright snorted and Eddie glared harder. "I think doing this before we move to a bigger space is stupid, but all power to the Chief if he thinks we can make it work."

"Don't care at all, got it," Gareth said, coming up beside him. "It's just business concerns. Like, our assets."

"See, why can't you be more like Gareth, Jeffery? He knows exactly what i'm talking about," Eddie slung an arm over Gareth's shoulders -and he must be in a good mood because he didn't duck away. "Business assets."

"More like his ass-et," Jeff muttered, and Eddie valiantly ignored him.

Five days ago Hopper walked into the studio's monthly brunch and introduced them all to one Joyce 'Mama' Byers -which, okay, even Eddie knew who she was -and dropped the bombshell that she signed on with them two days prior. Once the commotion died down she was the one who dropped the next one, informing them all that they'd soon be sharing close quarters with nine other artists from her former label, preeminent among them the one who convinced them all to walk out, that being Steve Harrington.

All ten of them were country artists. Prison Break Records hadn't put out any music that wasn't solely rock or metal in it's entire eight years of existence. To say there was a bit of culture shock going around was an understatement.

"Give them a chance, Ed," Grant passed by with a few cans of coke tucked into the crook of his arm and slapped him on the shoulder, making Eddie stumble. "Half of them are in the middle of doing the bar circuit right now, and it's not like we need the studio space anyway. It's all good."

Eddie huffed, trying not to let Grant's comment sting -he knew he didn't mean anything by it. But at nearly six months to the day, even though the guys would never rush him, maybe Eddie was getting a little bit worried about the future.

"I was talking with the Byers, apparently it's mainly gonna be Joyce and Harrington recording for the next month at least," Gareth piped up again, jabbing a thumb in the direction of country music's leading family -Argyle had somehow struck up a conversation with them and while the younger brother seemed confused, the elder was paying rapt attention to whatever their resident stoner was explaining. "Everyone else is taking a break or doing small shows or one off songs, like Grant said."

"Fine, fine, I get it," Eddie held up his hands in surrender. "But if they start blasting fucking honky-tonk bullshit-"

"Oh come on, Munson, don't tell me you're one of those."

Eddie paused, then slowly turned around, feeling his face heat up only partly in embarrassment to see Harrington standing just behind him, having apparently been abandoned by Dustin in the last few minutes. He had his hip cocked and a hand casually resting with the thumb hooked in his belt, and up close Eddie could see little moles scattered all over his face and neck like flecks of paint. Next to them, Jeff turned and coughed a laugh into his elbow, muffled.

"What, pray tell, are you talking about?" Eddie quashed the instinct to puff up for a fight. Just because Harrington was a good old jock with arms that could bench him didn't mean he had to have his back up, and he reasoned that this was his home turf here. He and Hopper may not always see eye to eye, but if Eddie asked he'd take his side in a heartbeat.

Harrington gave a funny little smirk, the kind you'd give to the family dog who was doing something cute but ultimately futile.

"You're the type who hates Trace Adkins but's never heard of David Allan Coe," he raised an eyebrow, then nodded to Jeff and Gareth, holding out a hand to shake with each of them. "Name's Steve. Good to meet you guys."

"Jeff," "Gareth," his bandmates parroted back, easy as breathing, while Eddie was still stuck on Harrington's little dig about the artists he was or wasn't aware of.

"You do most of the song work, don't you Munson?" he was asked, and Eddie belatedly realized he hadn't actually accepted Harrington's handshake. It was too late now, so he kind of awkwardly answered in the affirmative and watched that hand get pulled back and settled onto Harrington's other hip, so the man was standing almost like a judgy mother hen as he kept talking. "I've been kind of obsessed with Dark Sheep lately -especially the way you captured sexuality in 'Something On Your Tongue'; like how it's all about being confident, and whether it's a stranger at a club or working a job, the narrator's attracted to them in a way that's not gross to listen to. I mean, 'I love the way you dance with anybody' as a line is pretty refreshing when you think about it and... oh. Sorry," Harrington trailed off and turned a little pink, ducked his head. "Didn't mean to ramble on there."

Steve Harrington listened to Hellfire's music? Eddie blinked and the guy was still in front of him, looking earnest as a slice of apple pie or whatever the fuck, and he mentally shook himself. 'King' Steve Harrington listened to his music enough to have an opinion on it, on specific songs from their last record, and he came out the end of it liking his lyrics?

"Dude, get it together," Gareth whispered and elbowed him in the ribs, jolting him out of his fugue.

"Didn't think that was your thing, Harrington," Eddie ran his mouth with the first thought that came to mind, even if it was kind of dickish. "Sexual liberation ain't exactly very prayerful of you," he made the sign of the cross on that last part.

Far from what he expected, that got Harrington to bark out a big, surprised laugh. "Oh, c'mon," he rolled his eyes. "You can't seriously think I'm in with the god squad? They were most of why we left Tiger Studios in the end. Besides," Harrington flashed a charming smile, pearly whites matching the pearl buttons below on his shirt. "It'd be pretty hypocritical of me to preach against sexual lib, considering."

What the hell did that mean? Was it just his brain pulling tricks on him, or did Harrington's eyes flick up and down Eddie's body right then -and where the hell had Gareth and Jeff gone? They were supposed to be his buffer against his least favourite genre, not -ah, there they were -not chatting up the other members of Harrington's little ensemble across the room.

"Consider me told, then. You ain't godly whatsoever, I'll be sure not to disparage your sterling reputation again with that mistake, my liege, cross my heart," Maybe he was laying it on thick here, but there was something about Steve Harrington that got his pulse up; when the other man tilted his head with a baffled smile at Eddie's statement, he had to clench his fist hard so he didn't just -well, he wasn't actually sure. "But I think without the god talk that just makes you a hick, big boy, sexually liberated or otherwise. Is that better or worse?"

Maybe Harrington was just pissing him off with his... everything. His shit genre and his cocky attitude and the way he dressed to impress, it was cringey at best and edging on pretentious at worst. Eddie crossed his arms and scowled, annoyed with this damn situation of having to navigate a whole new set of people in the studio when he was already behind in his work and had no fucking clue how to fix-

"Hicks make some good music, Munson," Harrington said, sounding all kinds of condescending about it. "Especially these days, if you know where to look. Sounds to me like you're a little musically pigeonholed," Eddie went ramrod straight as Harrington threw that accusation in his face, and he felt his cheeks go hot in offense. Harrington smirked, noticing. "But hey, I'm always down to help out if you wanted to explore your options."

Musically. Pigeonholed. Musically pigeonholed!

"Fat chance of that, boots," Eddie swung his foot forward and knocked toes with Harrington, fancy brown tops against Eddie's scuffed workman's. "Sounds to me like the crown's too tight on your head after dropping contract. When you can write a song that's not about beer and trucks and girls, give me a shout, okay? Maybe I'll even give it a listen."

Steve's smirk turned a shade meaner, and he was probably going to say something really nasty -figures -when he got clapped on the back by a big man in a hawaiian shirt and with a thick beard, holding a martini of all things.

"Woah, kids, tone it down a notch. We're here to have a good time," the guy said, part patronizing and part stern -it was a weird combination. "Especially you, Discount Dio. Take it easy on the new guys or I'll ask Wayne to break out the baby photos, tout de suite."

Oh, so this was Murray. Wayne's mysterious drinking buddy who just so happened to be one of the artists who bailed along with Harrington. Eddie had no doubt he'd make good on the threat -not that he needed it, exactly. The interruption seemed to have taken the wind out of both his and Harrington's sails, if the way the guy looked embarrassed was any indication.

"Sorry, Murray," Harrington said, and Murray rolled his eyes.

"Just relax, kid. None of these guys are Hargrove, or even Carver Jr for that matter," he shook Harrington's shoulder a little, and shot Eddie an odd look. "Even the ones that growl and snap at you are just Chihuahuas. And you, puppy," he snapped his fingers in Eddie's face, making him flinch back in surprise. Also, offended -puppy? "I think you've got a hot head right now, so you should remember you know better than to shit on music you've never listened to. Don't you?"

Fuck, damn his big mouth. He felt his cheeks go tight with embarrassment, and he cut a look at Harrington. They were both close to thirty and yet here they were feeling like scolded children.

"Shouldn't have said that, Harrington. Sorry," he offered, ash in his throat. The guy looked surprised, but nodded, accepting, and Murray threw his hands up, sarcastically relieved.

"Thank god! Now come on, join the party," he hooked a hand around Eddie's neck and used his martini arm to bump Harrington forward.

The country boy looked at him one last time before seeming to shrug off their entire interaction, a fake expression of cheer getting plastered on after a flash of disappointment. Why he was disappointed was anybody's guess; maybe he'd thought Eddie would be more repentant in his apology.

Fat chance of that. Musically pigeonholed his ass.

Eddie sighed, flexing his hand, and readied himself to push through a few more hours of socializing. Internally he apologized to Hopper, too -a productive working relationship with the country club didn't seem like it was in the cards for him.

=<+>=

I keep a running list of songs referenced in the notes on AO3 -I don't do tag lists!

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #musician au #country star #rock star #fic #fanfic #st fanfic #fanfiction #enemies to lovers #hurt/comfort #cross posted on ao3

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thumpypuppy · 7 months ago

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Popping back on here to say y'all should be studying music history to understand where your favorite music came from. You'll develop a better appreciation for it, and you might discover some really amazing stuff along the way.

Also like… go listen to the album Head Hunters by Herbie Hancock, and then Heavy Weather by Weather Report. American music and culture has had an undeniable impact on music across the world in the last 100+ years and you should know how we got here. Spirituals, soul, gospel, rhythm n' blues, jazz, bebop, rock n' roll, psychedelic rock, reggae, funk, disco, house, ska… y'all know what I'm getting at.

#music history #music appreciation

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ometochtli2rabbit · 14 days ago

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13.0.12.4.18

ka'a[2] ETZ'NAB/ TIJAAX [flint]- jun[1] PAX

galactic tone: duality/polarity

spend time in reflection & introspection - MAYA

ome [2] - TECPATL [flint knife]

Tlaltecuhtli | Chalchihuitotolin

quetzalhuitzilin [green hummingbird]

lord of the night: Mictlantecuhtli

trecena[2]: Tlazolteotl

x: caxtolli[15- toxcatl - NAHUA

on this day in 1908, my grandfather. Juventino "Daddy John" Lopez was born. Some songs that remind me of him:

Willie Nelson: Immigrant Eyes & I'm My Own Grandpa

Jerry Reed/Buck Owens/Roy Clark: Pickin' & Grinnin'

John Denver: Wooden Indian

The Judds: Grandpa (Tell Me 'Bout the Good Old Days)

John Fogerty: My Toot Toot

Patty Loveless: The Grandpa That I Know

Randy Travis: He Walked On Water

Al Stewart: Manuscript

Alabama: Alabama Sky

Jim Morrison: Dawn's Highway

Toots & the Maytals: Reggae Got Soul

Arctic Monkeys: The Car

Snotty Nose Rez Kids: Creator Made An Animal

Eels: Grandfather Clock Strikes Twelve

Johnny Cash: My Grandfather's Clock

Hoyt Axton: Indian Song

Buffy Sainte-Marie: Now That the Buffalo's Gone

Talking Heads: Mommy Daddy You and I

Chris Cornell: Nothing Compares 2 U

The Beatles: A Hard Day's Night

Lana Del Rey: Grandfather please stand on the shoulders...

Hank Williams: Lost Highway

Alone and Forsaken

Everything's Okay

Kaw-Liga

Move It On Over

I Won't Be Home No More

Window Shopping

Nobody's Lonesome for Me

I'm Sorry For You My Friend

Crazy Heart

I Saw the Light

Half as Much

I'll Never Get Out of This World Alive

I Just Don't Like This Kind of Living

Mind Your Own Business

Waylon Jennings: Ain't No God in Mexico & Honky-tonk Heroes

Dan Fogelberg: Leader of the Band

Louis Armstrong: What A Wonderful World

Jorge Negrete: San Luis Potosi

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waugh-bao · 1 year ago

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Charlie on meeting Keith (and the rest of the early Stones):

“The Stones themselves didn't seem to make much impression on Charlie in the very early days: 'I used to play with loads of bands, and the Stones were just another one. I thought they'd last three months, then a year, then three years, then I stopped counting.’”-The Guardian, 2000

Keith on meeting Charlie:

"Alexis Korner's Blues Incorporated, which...had the young Charlie Watts on drums and sometimes lan Stewart on piano. That's where I fell in love with the men!”-Life, 2010

Patti on meeting Keith:

“When I first met Keith all I could think was: This is a guy who really needs a friend. I gave him the keys to my apartment after only knowing him two weeks. There was no sexual thing going on. I knew he just needed a secret place where he could get far away from the madding crowed. It wasn't love at first sight, though it feels like that now.”-2010

Keith on meeting Patti:

“So I caught sight of Patti again, and she caught sight of me catching sight of her. And she left. And a few days later I called her and we got together. I wrote in my notebook in January 1980, a few days after that:

‘Incredibly I've found a woman. A miracle! I've pussy at the snap of a finger but I've met a woman! Unbelievably she is the most beautiful (physically) specimen in the WORLD. But that ain't it! It certainly helps but it's her mind, her joy of life and (wonders) she thinks this battered junkie is the guy she loves. I'm over the moon and peeing in my pants. She loves soul music and reggae, in fact everything. I make her tapes of music which is almost as good as being with her. I send them like love letters. I’m kicking 40 and besotted.’

Patti and I were always going to be together.”-Life, 2010

#poor guy #he’s trying to hard for that ‘love at first sight’ fairytale story #and his spouses just won’t let him have it #the rolling stones #charlie watts #keith richards #old married band #quotes #patti hansen

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clareguilty · 2 months ago

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fooor the Writers Wrap ask game: 5, 6, 27?

5. What work of yours got more feedback than you expected? The teen wolf fandom continues to blow me away with how supportive and friendly they are! It's definitely perks of being a bigger fandom, but also an older one I'd say. People are so generous about commenting and everyone still wants to talk about fics and characters all the time. Also, there's still a ton of old gifsets from when that used to be popular on here!

The sequel chapter to Wolves in Black has weird kinks in it and understandably only resonated with a few people, so I was NOT expecting people to like the longfic so much <3 can't wait to get to the big chapters coming up!

6. Favorite title you used okay so i HATE titling things and that's why my kinktobers these days just name the character and the kink. But I still try to title my other fics I just usually ask my friends for help (hence why some of them make less sense than others)

'Like Wolves in Black' is actually a quote from a really goofy Youtuber rant my best friend loves so the title always makes me laugh when I remember that

27. What do you listen to while writing? instrumentals! or music in a language I can't understand well (this can also be english considering my shit auditory processing)

I like jazz and older synth type stuff from the 70s. I also listen to these cool channels that do live vinyl DJ sets! they tend to have a wide variety of genres from reggae to house and older j-pop and soul stuff. Basically any weird ass album youtube throws at me is an option. (i also listen to my friends goofing off on discord while I work as well)

#thanks for the ask bb!#ignore how late my response is #a03 wrapped ask meme #ask meme #ask #answered #takaraphoenix

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my-rewrite-academia · 2 months ago

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what are class 1a favorite music stuff like bands artist albums

Same with the teachers

If this series were live action would it use cgi or props like puppets and stuff

Hello!

Unfortunately, I'm not that well-verse in terms of bands and artists and such, only really sticking to a handful and maybe dropping in singles from others. But I can do music genres.

(BTW, the staff list will be shortened, as I don't have enough information on them to decide their fav genre, or why it would be.)

1-A:

Aoyama Yuuga: Disco Pop. He would adore ABBA and Madonna, and will dance and sing to any song from this genre, even if he doesn't know it.

Ashido Mina: Funk. Anything funk is an immediate add to her playlist, because the beats are perfect to dance to, and she can pour her heart and soul into it.

Asui Tsuyu: Jazz, for her, hits all the right buttons, and when the woodwind instruments come out? Kicking her feet as she listens to the music swell.

Bakugou Katsuki: Rap, or anything with a really hard bass. Prefers the ones dissing other artists, but doesn't really touch the songs actually touching on deeper stuff.

Hagakure Tooru: Soul. Trust me, her voice is as big as her muscles - the second she hears her songs, she will be aweing the audience into silence.

Iida Tenya: Musical Theatre. Tries to avoid the ones with... non-child-friendly themes, (would avoid Rocky Horror like the plague), but watch him get emotional over them, like Les Mis.

Jirou Kyouka: Dream Pop. Will dance to it in her room, but she's really not that good at it. Watch her nearly gameend herself trying to dance to Hayley Kiyoko.

Kaminari Denki: Techno. Originally got into it because it's a sub-genre of EDM and thought it would be funny, but grew to genuinely love it.

Kirishima Eijirou: Rock. Would eat up Queen irl, and will scream his heart out to every lyric.

Kouda Kouji: Orchestral. Likes to play it whenever he visits animal shelters or studying.

Midoriya Izuku: Alternative. Nobody ever expects it - they assume he likes lo-fi or something, but he will blast that stuff as he analyses whoever he wants.

Mineta Minoru: New Jack Swing. Mostly because most of the songs are horny, but also because the beat is really nice. Catch him swaying to the most outrageous lyrics.

Ojirou Mashirao: Electronic. Gets his heart racing, so it's perfect while he's working out, or to hype himself up before a simulated battle.

Satou Rikidou: Easy Listening. Stays away from all the sexually charged songs, but will let it play if it's in a playlist and he doesn't want to skip it.

Sero Hanta: Reggae. Jamming out every time, without fail. He tries to sing along, but refuses to do so in public considering he's not the best.

Shouji Mezou: Punk Rock. Help, this man is way too good at singing or rapping along, and he will fill his voice with as much emotion as possible.

Todoroki Shouto: Hip-Hop. Mainly got into it because he saw it as rebellious, but found that he genuinely enjoyed it.

Tokoyami Fumikage: Heavy Metal. I mean, was this a surprise? He would scream his head off to Metallica if he existed irl.

Uraraka Ochako: Rhythm & Blues. The vocals are her favourite part, but the tune underneath all that makes her heart thump and her body sway.

Yaoyorozu Momo: City Pop. Because she's a queen, therefore she listens to music ROYALTY. Also, it suits her vibe immaculately.

Staff:

All Might: Rock 'n' Roll. Got into it after he saw edits about him with RNR playing in the background - fans think this is adorable. And it is.

Present Mic: Retro. Loves playing it on his radio, and has made many fans adore it too because of this.

Nedzu: Opera. Specifically, the ones with deep, messed-up meaning, like Nessun Dorma. Or orchestral. Both are good.

Midnight: Deep House. Adores the mixture of jazz and soul, and likes to play it whenever she's doing paperwork or classwork.

Aizawa Shouta: Black Metal. Will listen to the most messed up lyrics with a completely straight face. Maybe a smile too.

Vlad King: OSTs. Any game or show he watches and likes the soundtrack for, he will be adding to his playlist.

Thirteen: Space Rock. I know, real original, but they love how it makes them feel like they're in space whenever it plays.

Recovery Girl: New Age. Likes the association with healing, as well as the ambience it creates. Often plays it when she's relaxing with a book.

If MRA were live-action, I would like to say a mix of both. Like, Pirates of the Caribbean type of stuff, where they have a large amount of props, but used CGI for stuff like Davy Jones.

I don't know the ins-and-outs of this sort of stuff, so I can't say for sure how it would be used. I believe that most live-action movies already are a mix of both.

Thanks for the ask!

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #mha critical #my hero academia #rewrite #horikoshi critical #my rewrite academia #ask

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kaylinalexanderbooks · 1 year ago

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Happy Storyteller Saturday! What kinds of music do your characters listen to, and does that differ from the kinds of music you associate with them?

Hey, Katie! Happy STS! Thanks for the ask!

So what's funny is that I'm currently picking at my OCs' music taste. I've been doing some background work on specific preferences/favorites for them but unfortunately they're not complete yet.

The main problem I'm having is I have a very wide music taste. I love all genres. So trying to narrow down what everyone likes feels weird and restrictive. But here are the core characters and what I feel like they like.

Lexi - I associate a lot of pop music with Lexi, and she'll definitely enjoy it, but I'm also leaning toward alternative rock, classical music, country, blues, jazz. Ugh this is too many!! But she'd listen to them outside in her garden, no headphones in so she can hear people coming and maybe talk to someone if they're out with her.

Maddie - would like rock/alternative rock and hip hop is what I'm leaning for. Maybe some classical and metal. Would prefer just instant stimulation rather than meaning. Probably would put on headphones as she worked with Legos.

Ash - rock, indie rock, alternative rock. Throw in some punk. Just all rock I guess. Would probably want to be doing something with her hands while she listens. Maybe knock some chores out of the way.

Gwen - definitely has a wide variety of tastes. Jazz, classical, soul, world, alternate, rock, metal, classical. Maybe some ambient. She'd listen to music all the time. It's a part of her. She wants to be moved emotionally by it.

Robbie - similar wide taste: jazz, classical, should world, alternate, blues, country, maybe even reggae. Really likes music with a lot of meaning, relaxation, good melodies. Needs music to focus on anything. song usually in his head.

Akash - country, cultural music, pop, electronic, rap/hip hop, new age, world...yeah wide taste. He would rather have time to sing along to music then just turn it on as background noise, but sometimes it's Music Time. And if he's struggling with X emotion, then there's a playlist for that!

I'd include Jedi and Carmen but they're from an alternate dimension and I'm still figuring out their pop culture ahh!

Hope this was alright lol. Thanks for the ask! Barely got this done before the end of STS (for my time zone).

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maxiemartmanager · 6 months ago

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#spotify #overlooked music #big youth #reggae got soul

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soulganic · 4 months ago

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youtube

Official lyric video for "Pulling Me (Pushing Me)", taken from the new album Phosphene, coming October 2024.

https://soulganic.bandcamp.com

“Pulling Me (Pushing Me)” narrates the exhilarating journey of newfound love, capturing the initial bliss and desire that gradually give way to the complexities of the beloved’s true nature.

The song is a musical odyssey that begins with a dreamy soulful house groove, capturing the euphoria of fresh affection. As the story unfolds, it transitions into a reggae-inspired jam reminiscent of The Police, mirroring the complexities and doubts that arise. The track culminates in a vibrant P-Funk-esque coda, symbolizing the ultimate realization.

Lyrics:

The way you flash those eyes

It's pulling me

Innocence of your smile

It's pulling me

I love your energy

It's pulling me

Been watching for a while and

It's pulling me

I think you feel the same

Is this you pulling me?

Been holding back though I want you

Keeping this secret won't do

And every day that passes, girl

The passion pulls me deeper

It's pulling me

You got me feeling hungry and

It's pulling me

Longing for you to feed me and

It's pulling me

We can go at your speed cuz

It's pulling me

And I'll follow where you lead cuz

it's pulling me

Just to set this longing free and girl

It's pulling me

Been holding back though I want you

Keeping this secret won't do

And every day that passes, girl

The passion pulls me deeper

Deeper

Yesterday I thought it was love

But it seems I was just dreaming

Bleeding from the stabs of your tongue

Deceptions that you're weaving

And though we're both broken souls

These battles have left me cold

And it feels as if the war has won

Been holding back, don't want to hurt you

But all these changes won't do

And every day that passes, girl

You're pushing me further

Away, away, away

Crooked doors and crumbling walls

Seen all the things you've hidden

Betrayal and a broken trust

Things that can't be forgiven

You can feign sincerity

But i don't compromise on dishonesty

Sad to say it but the damage is done

Been holding back, don't want to hurt you

But all these changes won't do

And every day that passes, girl

You're pushing me further

Further

We're pulling, we're pulling

We're pushing, we're pushing

We're pulling, we're pushing

We're pushing, we're pulling

Credits:

Soulganic is:

Cory McClure (drums, vocals)

Ryan McKeithan (guitars, vocals)

Anthony Rodriguez (lead vocals, bass, synth, samples, sound design, percussion)

Credits:

Produced by Soulganic + Scott Slagle

Written, composed, arranged + performed by Soulganic

Lyrics by Anthony Rodriguez + Ryan McKeithan

Engineered + recorded by Scott Slagle, Asylum Digital, Charlotte, NC, USA

Mixed by Scott Slagle + Soulganic

Mastered by Dave Harris, Studio B, Charlotte, NC, USA

#funky indie soul #indie music #soul #clt music #groove #phosphene #new music alert #lyric video #Youtube

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astramthetaprime · 1 year ago

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Musical Interludes

Pro tip: Like music? Like streaming music? Like FREE streaming music? Like FREE streaming music that doesn't ad-bomb you every thirty minutes (except for some very short station ID type things)?

Let me direct your attention to Soma FM.

They are a donation-driven streaming music radio empire. Seriously. If you love ambient, they've got several stations devoted to many different subgenres of ambient. If you love soul music, metal, Indian, techno, reggae, folk, 80's, dang near anything you can think of, Soma is a goldmine. They play 24 hours a day with crystal clear quality. Get yourself a music player that can play streaming by inputing a URL, get the link from the channel pages and you're golden. I use a player called AIMP (also free) on both my desktop computer and my phone. There are NO ADS. Just a station ID that's maybe 5 seconds out of every hour, and it never interrupts the music. If you love it and you can do so, donate to help them keep going. If you can't donate, just enjoy the music.

I've been listening for YEARS and these people are saints. I am not joking. They're saints. I used to donate $8 a month because I love it so much, I had it on autopay. Now that I'm heading into a decent job again I'll start that autopay again in a month or two. Soma is hands down one of the best resources for a writer who can just put on the music and forget there's such a thing as time. Hours and hours of space music, for FREE.

I'll always give these people the love and the recs, because they're genuinely worth it. Thank you and props to Rusty, he's a god among men!

#soma fm #music for writing #ambient #free stuff #nomination for sainthood

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dollarbin · 5 months ago

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Shakey Sundays #37:

Trans, Part 2

Every artist worthy of your Dollar Bin buck has at least one wacky identity crisis record.

Joni declared God a boogie man and life one big Pork Pie Hat; a few years later she went full synth on Dog Eat Dog; Cat Stevens decided songs should be 18 minutes long and then dedicated a record to the Pythagorean Theorem; Sandy Denny tried out war-era white jazz under a thatched roof; Lou Reed strove to make an album that was entirely unlistenable; and Paul Simon dedicated years and millions of dollars to a musical about a caped Puerto Rican vampire kid...

And, of course, you've got your pick of midlife crisis Dylan records: most of his records fit that description. Prior to dedicating the equivalent of 5 albums in a row to Sinatra, he did everything from a cowboy soundtrack to 80's reggae, not to mention the still largely incomprehensible Self Portrait.

But for me, Neil Young's Trans remains, hands down, the very best identity crisis record in the dollar bin. I see I got my copy for 92 cents. And, now that I've dedicated an entire 65,000 word post to both exorcising and exercising my own personal demons associated with Trans, it's time that we settled in and talked about its actual songs.

First of all, Trans would be far better as an Eldorado length EP. Three of the album's songs have no place on the record thematically or musically; rather, Little Thing Called Love, the interminable Like An Inca and Hold On To Your Love belong on a Shakey / Joe Freakin' Lala duo record with the working title of Johnny's Island of Steaming Hot Dog Waste, or something akin to that: it's a perfectly dull set of songs which Young's new boss at that time, David Geffen, labeled as lousy.

(I'm going out on a limb with that conclusion because I have yet to hear all of the newly released tracks from those sessions that appear on Archives 3; my famous brother is probably choking on his microbrewed sourbeer in rage and swearing by Neil's yacht rock phase as we speak.)

Disappointingly, as near as I can tell Archives 3 doesn't offer any new truly Trans songs; Young apparently just recorded five core songs with his wall of machines.

(I don't consider the Mr Soul on this record a core song; Young says he jokingly recorded it as a Buffalo Springfield reunion audition tape. No wonder they never got back together.)

But forget about Mr Soul: I'm here to argue that every single one of Trans' original five songs is a winner.

Let's consider them in order.

Computer Age is a top twenty Neil Young track. If the whole record were this good we'd all talk about Trans in hushed tones and toss around descriptive words like masterpiece and mothercuddler. But Computer Age is the album's high water mark.

First of all, the song freakin' rocks: I totally dig its groove and hooks. Computer Age makes me want to cook up a six course meal made entirely out of recycled semi-conductors, all while dancing. Computer Age! Computer Age!

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To my ears, Computer Age is the only piece of music on this record, or, frankly, on any of Neil's records between Re-Ac-Tor and This Notes for You, which sounds 100% finished and successful. Neil has plenty of visions; occasionally he fully nails one of them. The vocoder vocals all make sense to me here. The pacing is both stately and frantic. The bridge swoons.

We R In Control is nearly as good and twice as nuts.

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The day I lose my mind entirely and start blogging here about how there was no moon landing and how Hilary Clinton is a Taiwanese super spy android, please know that I have adopted We R In Control as my personal theme song. And while you are at it, please get me some help.

There are more competing hooks in this song than in The Cure's Fascination Street - and I've counted, there are at least seven hooks in that song. Plus every one of Neil's hooks is bonkers. Whoop! Whoop! Whoop! Whoop! He attempts everything in the song: he swings; he stomps; he performs a solo on an 80s-era telephone's digital keypad.

Song three, Transformer Man, should be the other fully successful track on the record. After all, it's a truly beautiful song, a fact Neil admitted 10 years later on MTV Unplugged.

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I love how there's one single nerd-club-level Shakey guy in the audience who recognizes this song as it opens - you can hear him let out a shocked Yeah! while everyone else fingers their MTV-issued bowls of mixed nuts and wine coolers and wonders what's up.

The summer that this live version of Transformer Man came out I was at journalism camp (yeah, Journalism Camp). Midweek I derailed an entire class taught by the LA Reader's music critic by complimenting his citing of this song as the only redeemable moment on the live record. He looked at me dumbfounded: a 17 year old existed who enjoyed Trans. The rest of the class sighed and waited for a resumption of normalcy. It took a while.

But the song's original take makes a critical mistake: Neil occasionally shuts off the vocal altering vocoder. Every time we hear snatches of his almost normal singing voice we get distracted.

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See what I mean? When Neil's computerized pinprick of a voice quivers this song is shimmies. But when we know it's him singing we're disappointed and want to hear On The Beach.

Happily, there is not a single note on Computer Cowboy that sounds like standard Shakey.

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Neil has spilled a lot of ink outlining his thematic intentions with this record; I think a lot of what he was trying to say is actually really valuable, and I'll get into all of that in my eventual post for Trans, Part 3.

But, try as he might to tell his interviewers that Computer Cowboy is a deep think piece centering around a cattle rancher by day who's a hacker by night and the implications of that guy's whole deal on life as we know it, this song has no possible justification, and that's makes it wonderful. Back in 1993, long after the Dylan show I chronicled in Part 1, all 5 or 6 adolescent boys in my bedroom and I definitely fell down laughing hysterically when Neil got to his "yippee-yi-yippee-yi-ay" fade out. He may continue to take this whole project seriously, but Trans is also just ridiculously funny.

Sample and Hold stands alongside Computer Age as the record's other attempt at something vital. There's just a lot of ambition to be heard in the track. Neil thought a lot about, well, something or other while working on this song.

Young issued an extended dance remix of the song in 1982 but left that version off Archives 3. A critical mistake!

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I can't think of anything insightful to say about Sample and Hold other than please, go listen to it.

We know you'll be happy.

#Youtube #shakey sundays #neil young #joe freakin' lala

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