#Writing about Music

[transhuman-priestess]

I know I’ve posted this song before but it changed my brain chemistry permanently.

It’s one of the most beautiful songs I’ve ever heard. It’s a song about love, but it isn’t a love song. A caring song, if you will.

It’s presented as one side of a dialogue between the singer and an unnamed friend, perhaps lover, who apparently has depression. The chorus is not the title, but instead “I’m gonna leave it all out there to dry, I’m gonna leave it all out there”, the singer tries in so many ways to tell the listener that they’re going to make it through their hard times, as in the opening lines, “I’m alright today/you’re gonna find a way to cross and you’re gonna get there.”

As the song goes on the encouragements become more florid, more poetic. The singer urges the listener to open themselves up, “You put walls around your heart to try to lock it in.”

In the bridge the song takes undergoes its largest structural shift, most of the instrumentation drops out, and only the drums and a mournful horn section remain. The last line of the bridge shows the singer trying to reach out, to relate, “everybody wants the same/yeah, everybody wants the same thing” before returning to the chorus, again, “I’m gonna leave it all out there to dry/Im gonna leave it all out there”

But then a new chorus ends the song, repeating five times rather than the usual four, “cause you worry me/you worry me/you worry me/you worry me/you worry me”, the song ends with the last word, very abruptly, as if either the message has finally gotten through, or perhaps was too late.

It’s a masterful use of structure and lyrics to tell a simple, universal story. It’s stuck with me for years now. I can’t shake it. Anyway, if you haven’t, go listen to it.

[lostextosquenadiequiereleer]

RENACER.

Terminé el ciclo de mi página de difusión hace más de dos años cuando me retiré, en ese entonces de forma momentánea, y hace más de un año de forma definitiva. Las verdaderas razones quizás no las llegue a revelar nunca de manera abierta. Quizás lo lleguen a saber quiénes lean el libro (cuando éste se publique) que en estos momentos aún escribo. Fue la única manera en que logré sacar de mi sistema esa etapa tan dolorosa para mi.

En este periodo de "descanso" pensé en todo lo que hice mal y qué pude haber hecho mejor. Pensé en lo mal que me hizo auto imponerme tantas reglas, pues eso hizo que mucha gente se aprovechará de mi buena voluntad. Me concentré en todo lo malo, que volví a deprimirme, me enfermé de muchas cosas y terminé en un quirófano deseando ya no despertar.

Cuando recobré la consciencia, las primeras palabras que escuché antes de que llegaran los médicos fueron: "No has terminado. Ya sabes qué hacer." (Sigo preguntándome de quién era esa voz que escuchaba en mi cabeza)

Después de los primeros días en el hospital, un par de canciones me ayudaron a comenzar mi proceso de sanación. A partir de ahí, comenzaron a aparecer todos los buenos momentos que he pasado en esos más de diez años de conciertos. Y pensé en todo lo que me dejaron esas experiencias: Una enseñanza impresionante.

En este periodo de descanso cambiaron muchas cosas en mí, pero hay otras que nunca cambiarán. Como mi amor eterno por la música.

Hace un par de meses re-conecté con esa sensación de maravillarme cuando conozco artistas nuevos, y de que prefiero estar en lugares pequeños e íntimos, a lugares en donde tanto artistas como público, le faltan al respetó a la música.

Re-conecté con esa sensación de ver artistas desconocidos con sus caritas de felicidad, casi al borde del llanto, porque el evento en dónde se presentaban, a pesar de no hacer mucho ruido, lograban tener "casa llena" con gente que nunca habían visto, pero que estaban ahí para prestarles sus oídos y conocer su Arte.

Re-conecté con la sensación de estar en dónde quieres estar, y no en dónde debes estar. de estar con amigos que valoran tu presencia, y no buscan sacar provecho de absolutamente nada.

Re-conecté con esa parte de mi que creí muerta. Pero no es que estuviera muerta, era simplemente que cumplía un ciclo, pero estaba lista para volver de las cenizas. Y ya concretamente, ¿A qué quiero llegar con todo lo que estoy diciendo? A decir con mucha ilusión que ¡Estoy de vuelta!

Estoy listo para volver a apoyar con todo mi amor a Artistas Indie que sueñan con llevar su Arte a nuevos rumbos. Vuelvo para apoyar de formas diferentes a las que acostumbraba. Pero siempre con el mismo respeto y admiración que el primer día.

Vuelvo y espero quedarme por muchos años más.

[basilepesso]

Pearl Jam, Go, 1 993

Fantastique ouverture du remarquable Vs de Pearl Jam (1 993). Avec ce chef d'oeuvre uppercutien qui commence aussi brillamment et violemment qu'il s'achève, le groupe de Seattle sortait d'un grunge lyrique parfois pesant, cousin d'Alice in Chains et de Screaming Trees (autres groupes grunge de Seattle ou de la région de l'état de Washington autour de Seattle), style pearl jamien largement surestimé (base de leur premier album culte, Ten, et son célèbre single Alive) et offrait leur meilleur album, un niveau que le groupe ne dépassera jamais sauf sur certains éclairs y compris solo pour Eddie Veder et la bande originale d'Into the Wild, notamment son single Society. De Seattle il n'est plus tant question sur la scène artistique hype. On ne sait pas quelle effervescence a piqué la froide ville du Nord-Ouest des USA dans les 90's, puisqu'aux groupes nommés s'ajoute évidemment Nirvana puis les Foo Fighters, mais aussi Soundgarden, et en plus pop/rock, The Posies. Dans les 2 000's, la ville à la tour emblématique (The Space Needle) qui rappelle plus ou moins celle d'Osaka (la Tsūtenkaku) a été l'effigie de la souvent remarquable série médicale Grey's Anatomy. Basile Pesso, 4 février 2 023, 1e diffusion ce jour-là (Fb) Pearl Jam, Go

[frankierotwinkdeath]

Y’all want Taylor Swift to be gay so bad but you won’t even write femslash about her

[inkskinned]

this is just my opinion but i think any good media needs obsession behind it. it needs passion, the kind of passion that's no longer "gentle scented candle" and is now "oh shit the house caught on fire". it needs a creator that's biting the floorboards and gnawing the story off their skin. creators are supposed to be wild animals. they are supposed to want to tell a story with the ferocity of eating a good stone fruit while standing over the sink. the same protective, strange instinct as being 7 and making mud potions in pink teacups: you gotta get weird with it.

good media needs unhinged, googling-at-midnight kind of energy. it needs "what kind of seams are invented on this planet" energy and "im just gonna trust the audience to roll with me about this" energy. it needs one person (at least) screaming into the void with so much drive and energy that it forces the story to be real.

sometimes people are baffled when fanfic has some stunning jaw-dropping tattoo-it-on-you lines. and i'm like - well, i don't go here, but that makes sense to me. of fucking course people who have this amount of passion are going to create something good. they moved from a place of genuine love and enjoyment.

so yeah, duh! saturday cartoons have banger lines. random street art is sometimes the most precious heart-wrenching shit you've ever seen. someone singing on tiktok ends up creating your next favorite song. youtubers are giving us 5 hours of carefully researched content. all of this is the impossible equation to latestage capitalism. like, you can't force something to be good. AI cannot make it good. no amount of focus-group testing or market research. what makes a story worth listening to is that someone cares so much about telling it - through dance, art, music, whatever it takes - that they are just a little unhinged about it.

one time my friend told me he stayed up all night researching how many ways there are to peel an orange. he wrote me a poem that made me cry on public transportation. the love came through it like pith, you know? the words all came apart in my hands. it tasted like breakfast.

[theoldaeroplane]

worried that thing you put in your art or writing or game or music is too self-indulgent, too self-referential, too niche for anyone but yourself? fear not! you can do whatever you want forever. and you should.

[castielsprostate]

having talented friends is so wild!!!!!! like. YOU!!!!!!!!!! YOU made THAT. YOU DID THAT?!?!?!?! YOU created!!!! THAT!!!!!!!!!!! WOAH!!!!!! praise!!!!!!!! praise for one thousand years!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[saixria]

Somewhere in Apollo’s hospital on Olympus

[noknowshame]

always a fun time when real life people are doomed by their own narratives. like guys you know it doesn’t have to be like this right? this isn’t a stageplay the foreshadowing isn’t real until you make it real

[wickcipher]

I love the idea of Raph and Donnie having lasting effects!!! Are there any others apart from the eyes and maybe the hive mind thing? (Also does the hive mind thing affect how they interact with each other?)

Also I love your art!!! The comic is awesome, and I did not realise you were the one who made the awesome music video for the Cass Apocolypse series!!! Thank you for sharing!!!

Meanwhile:

They get a little mixed up sometimes...

[dootznbootz]

Sorry, not sorry but I see this too often and it bothers me :)

Before people get mad: Notice how I put “Me and Penelope fans” there? I know there's others. this ain't about you <3

edit: This is about how people in the fandom prioritize Odysseus and Telemachus (and even Diomedes, who is not in the Odyssey) despite the Odyssey also being HER story as well. I've seen many fics about Odysseus and Telemachus in their youth, and never really seen that for Penelope.

[transhuman-priestess]

People do not appreciate the sheer genius of “I Feel Love”

It is the mitochondrial eve of every single EDM track, house track, chiptune, anything, that you’ve ever heard.

It’s one of those works of art that is so earth-shatteringly important it spawned entire genres, and as a result it doesn’t even occur how utterly new it was when it was new.

“Disco with synthesizers” doesn’t sound like a groundbreaking idea because you’ve been raised on post-“I Feel Love” conceptions of disco.

God I love this song

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Look what we've become.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[morganbritton132]

Just remember this idea I had for a fic where Steve’s dad worked in marketing and made jiggles for commercials so they had a full music studio in their house.

The local music store had a section where local artists can sell cassettes. It’s mostly poorly recorded country music from The Hideout’s open mic night, but Corroded Coffin is there too. Eddie practically stalks the shelf to see if anyone buys their music. No one ever does (except for Gareth’s mom).

Then one day, Eddie goes into the shop after work to see if any of CC’s stock is gone, and sees a new tape there. No artist name. No song titles. Just a slip of paper stuck into the case with a hand drawn rose on it.

Eddie buys it and even though it’s not his typical type of music, falls absolutely in love with the voice on the tape. He loves the music. The production quality. The way sadness seeps into every corner of side A and B.

He goes back to the record shop and asks who left the tape, but the employee has no idea. They think someone just stuck it there without permission and have no idea who they’re supposed to pay for the sale.

Two more tapes show up over the next month with a different drawn flower on it, each sadder than the last. The artist is clearly going through something. Eddie still has no idea who they are and is now stalking the shelf not just to see if his own music is selling (it’s not).

He’s in full investigation mode and it’s annoying all of his friends. He needs to know who this person is because he’s a little in love with them and also a little worried about them. It’s really sad music.

Meanwhile, Steve is just trying to process the end of his relationship with Nancy in the only way he can think of.

[anthotneystark]

Had an idea at work but couldn't write it out until now lmao

Down on his luck Steve who refuses to give in to his parents and is desperately trying to figure things out for himself. But putting himself through school (i can never decide between nursing or education) is expensive. So he works two jobs, trying to save up and taking a few classes here and there, and the one job is in a restaurant. It's a fancier place, usually gets him decent tips, but the best nights are the ones where he's not waiting tables. The best nights are the ones where he plays the piano and sets the mood and has a little more freedom to enjoy himself.

Enter Rockstar!Eddie, who got out of Hawkins quick and never looked back. Who's at this fancy place for a work dinner and, as his bandmates (Jeff) demanded, he's trying to behave himself and remember which fork is which. But that's just not possible, not entirely, when he catches glimpses of a beautiful face, a face only rarely darting up from the piano in front of him. And look, Eddie's only human. He's smitten just from glimpses. He manages to get through the dinner, constantly watching to see if the piano man will look up again, but he's still playing by the time they're wrapping up.

So he skips out on riding back to the hotel with the others, goes to the bar area and decides it's not that creepy to wait for him. He waits and waits and waits and listens for the music to stop. The bartender is all but shoving him out the door when it does. With no other choice, he waits outside, smokes a cigarette to calm his nerves while he looks for a head of chestnut hair with an angel's face. Just as he's about to give up, he sees him. And he recognizes him. But just as much as that dismays him, he's still got hope enough to give it a shot.

He doesn't think Steve will recognize him anyway, but even if he does, Eddie's never been accused of making the best decisions.

So he slinks out from the shadows, which is a bad decision, and tries to get Steve's attention, which is a bad decision, and surprises Steve, who's first instinct is a fight response, resulting in Eddie getting punched in the face.

Because bad decisions.

Steve is obviously very apologetic, takes Eddie back home to get him ice for his face, and Eddie can't even protest because Pain. But once his face is numb and Steve's cleaning up the blood from his nose (very bruised but not broken) he's kinda staring and Steve, clearly embarrassed, is doing concussion tests. When asked "what's today's date" he responds with "our future anniversary". And when Steve asks him "what's your name" he responds with "your future husband" and Steve gives up on questions after that.

They obviously make out about it, even though they keep accidentally injuring Eddie further by knocking his nose.

And Eddie is right, it is their anniversary after all.

[loresung]

breaking my no commentary rule real quick to say, i love that odysseus became every monster he fought except for calypso. he asked penelope if she would fall in love with him again. he waited for her response. he was willing to accept a rejection. even when she provoked him, he was accepting the rejection but not the destruction of the symbol of their past love.