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misssophiachase · 4 years ago

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Blame Taylor Swift for distracting me from my other stories (which are still being updated I promise). Eleven parts - eleven songs. Hope you like it.

Invisible String

Famous singer Caroline Forbes returns to her hometown for a funeral and to face demons from her past, not expecting someone familiar to return and throw the confected world she's created upside down. Based off songs and lyrics from Taylor Swift's Folklore. On FF and AO3

Chapter one: the 1

Mystic Falls, VA

The large, antique mirror was always one of her favourite pieces of furniture in the house. Her mother had been an avid collector of rare, antique pieces and this was one of her most treasured finds.

Liz told her as a child that mirrors possess magical powers.

They don't lie.

Looking at herself today, Caroline knew that much was true. She barely recognised the woman staring back at her.

Her knee length, black, Chanel dress was modest but stylish and her blonde tresses were pulled back into a low chignon at the nape of her neck with a pair of simple, pearl earrings her only accessories.

She looked every bit the grieving ex-girlfriend, her publicist had made sure of it. The problem was, only half of that statement was true. Ex-girlfriend, yes, but grieving she wasn't quite sure.

Caroline walked to the nearby bay window, looking down at the beach below.

Her large mansion sitting atop the cliffs overlooking the sea had been an impulse purchase five years earlier. She'd bought it for her mother initially. But Liz always maintained that she preferred the small house on Mulberry Drive where she'd raised Caroline and it had remained vacant ever since.

She couldn't bring herself to sell it, if anything it was a veiled reminder to the residents of Mystic Falls who she'd become and just how much some had underestimated her worth. Petty, yes, but Caroline felt it was justified all the same.

She faltered, seeing the long stretch of sand below. It always reminded her of him. The lazy summer days that passed while they played in the surf and built a myriad of sandcastles, some even taller than Caroline. He was like that, always had to be the most competitive. The best.

But also so loving and kind, his unconditional support like a warm hug that she'd craved for too long before he arrived in town. He was everything she needed and that feeling had never abated, even after all this time.

She looked away and shook her head, determined to push those particular memories deeper inside. This trip was about her ex-boyfriend, not the boy with the dimples who rescued her and what they could have had, what they could have been. Caroline repeatedly told herself that their story was destined to be captured like a snapshot in time, nothing more.

After all, some of the greatest movies of all time were never made.

He'd gone on to become one of the hottest and most sought after actors in Hollywood, his recent nomination for an Academy Award his latest accomplishment.

Sure, she liked to pretend she didn't keep tabs on his life but that would be lying. Every time she saw him photographed in magazines and at movie premieres, his arm around the latest girlfriend, Caroline couldn't help but wish it was her.

But they'd had their chance and there was too much history between them to ever salvage what could have been.

"Caroline, you ready?" she turned to face her publicist and best friend from the doorway. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?" She nodded, her invisible mask now firmly in place, determined to hopefully get through this day unscathed and as quickly as possible.

Then she could get the hell out of Mystic Falls and never come back again.

1 week earlier...Empire Field Mile High, Denver CO

"Thanks everyone, you've been amazing, good night!" Caroline yelled into the microphone, waving at the heaving crowd for the last time.

Whether it was a small dive bar at the beginning of her career or the giant stadiums she'd graduated to, Caroline didn't think she'd ever tire of the feelings it evoked. Caroline didn't think she'd be here, let alone doing something that she loved. She'd been singing since she was a little girl sitting on her mother's lap but never thought she'd be singing her own songs for the masses.

She was discovered in one of those very dive bars at the age of nineteen. It was her first regular gig and although the clientele were either non-existent or questionable, Caroline was just grateful to have a steady job for three months.

When the handsome and immaculately dressed brunette (although she wouldn't admit that to him now) had entered the bar, looking completely out of place, she was mid-song. She could remember the cover song like it was yesterday, Breathe by Sia.

Just after her set, he'd produced one of those impressive-looking business cards before approaching her on stage. Enzo St John was his name. His demeanour was poised, his manner and unexpected British accent extremely polished.

"I'm going to make you a star."

If she wasn't so starving, desperate and facing eviction from her Santa Monica studio, Caroline probably would have scoffed at his cliched terminology. But she wasn't that much of an idiot.

And he did make her a star. As evidenced by her steady climb up the music charts, sold out concerts and complete make-over from small town girl to multiple grammy award winner and current 'it' girl if nights like this playing in Denver were anything to go by.

"You knocked it out of the park!" Enzo yelled, trying to be heard over the loud cheers from the manic crowd in Denver as she walked off stage.

"You do realise this is a football stadium, right?" She asked, taking the towel one of the stage hands had kindly provided.

"I don't understand." The way his forehead creased in utter confusion was enough to prove that very point.

"Of course he doesn't," her agent interrupted their conversation. "Enzo doesn't realise he's used a baseball metaphor because all he cares about is his beloved soccer."

"I'll pretend you didn't just commit blasphemy by calling football that dreaded word, Bennett," he huffed. "Bloody Americans."

"We love you too, Lorenzo," Caroline teased, throwing the towel she'd just used at him teasingly. "Now, what's next?"

Bonnie and Enzo looked at her mouths agape. Only Caroline Forbes, America's sweetheart, would be this hardworking. Her schedule was hectic enough but Caroline always took it in her stride and strived to do more and be better. Her mother had taught her that from a young age and she hadn't forgotten since.

"Ah, I don't know, maybe go back to the hotel and sleep, darling," Enzo responded, finally finding his voice. "This tour is only going to get crazier and you need to rest."

"Even Kat would recommend that and we all know how much she loves a good after party," Bonnie joked.

She was an agent at premiere talent company CAA and had recently come on the road for a few weeks. Caroline had met her and publicist Katherine Pierce not long after Enzo. The three were a packaged deal even if they did fight like siblings. Being an only child, Caroline actually relished in their incessant bickering.

Caroline weaved her way backstage and into her makeshift dressing room. Her finale outfit was meant to not only sparkle but also to stand out. Which was great but comfort definitely wasn't an overall factor in its design.

After an obligatory swig of Evian, she began to change. A knock at the door wasn't wholly unexpected, hence the screen she was standing behind. Usually, it was one of her personal staff needing to discuss various matters. Caroline was someone who didn't like to be alone, especially with her thoughts, so would never discourage company.

"Care," she heard her publicist call out. "You decent?"

"Come in, Kat," she said, albeit muffled by the top she was removing.

"Amazing show, as usual," she smiled, closing the door behind her. "How are you feeling?"

"Invigorated," she grinned. "Performing live is the best high anyone could ask for."

"Well, I'm glad," she began slowly,"because I have some news that I thought you should know." Caroline didn't like the sound of that, it was just like when she'd been informed her mother had passed away in the line of duty three years ago. She suddenly felt sick, holding onto the screen for some much- needed balance.

"News?"

"From your hometown," she added. "I wasn't sure if you already know but given your response I assume not."

"Just tell me," she snapped. Caroline knew it was uncalled for given she was just the messenger but there was something about the mention of Mystic Falls that had the tendency to throw her into a spin.

"I'm sorry," Kat soothed. "Your, uh, I mean, uh, Damon Salvatore has passed away."

Caroline felt the precarious sense of balance she had slowly slipping away, all the way onto the floor. It was only when Kat scooped her up and led her towards the couch that she finally processed her words.

Damon.

Dead.

"How?" She managed to bite out as Katherine force fed her some water.

"Motorcycle accident," she offered, brushing the hair from her forehead. "He collided with a vehicle on the interstate. It was instant."

Caroline closed her eyes. She'd always wondered what it would feel like to hear those words but it didn't register like she'd imagined. She'd wished so many bad things on him too many times. She thought there'd be a sense of relief or freedom.

But all she felt was nothing. Not sad, not angry, not shock or disbelief. Just nothing.

Besides Kat telling her she was "so sorry" and continuing to rub her back, the silence in the room was deafening.

"How do you, of all people, know that?" She croaked, sitting up and looking at her friend imploringly. They'd never met. Damon was nothing but a revised memory she'd concocted for her public image.

The typical small town girl with the high school sweetheart angle and her management team had eaten it up. If only it was true.

"Those rabid vultures at TMZ somehow got a hold of it, want to know if Caroline Forbes is attending his funeral in Mystic Falls."

"Well, given you just told me…"

"I know, like I said vultures," she hissed. "I'm not even going to justify their heartless request with a response. Can I get you anything, sweetie? Tissues, water, a really big bowl of chilli fries with extra ketchup?"

Caroline snuggled back into Katherine's embrace knowing exactly what she wanted. She wanted to forget, even if it was just for one night. "I need a really big bottle of tequila."

Caroline winced from the memory, thinking that tequila truly was evil and that she wouldn't be touching it again anytime soon.

Fast forward a couple of days and Caroline was here preparing for Damon's funeral. They'd only arrived late the night before so as to avoid the welcome circus. Her team had accompanied her to Mystic Falls in a show of support and she appreciated it, even if they didn't know the full story.

Given every media outlet knew about his death via TMZ, Caroline figured if she didn't go along with it then they'd know her backstory wasn't exactly what she'd sold them and that couldn't happen.

She'd worked too hard to get where she was and her past wasn't going to return and ruin that.

#klaroline fanfiction #klaroline fanfic #folklore inspired #klaroline #invisible string #misssophiachase #chapter 1 #the 1

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antialiasis · 5 years ago

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Jesus Christ Superstar: all of my thoughts

Allll right, this will be me watching my way through Jesus Christ Superstar 2012 (the arena tour with Tim Minchin/Ben Forster) and rambling about e v e r y t h i n g as I go, prompted by me having a lot of thoughts approximately every two minutes while watching it on YouTube/rewatching it/listening to multiple other JCS productions in between. Unusually for me, there will be very little complaining. This production is not perfect but that's not really what I'm here to talk about right now, shush, let me just go on about why I love this musical, at incredible length.

(I will be talking both about particulars in this production and about JCS in general as a narrative, without explicitly distinguishing the two, but please rest assured I do know which is which. I am pretty hardcore, I have seen five different productions live (including the 2013 leg of the arena tour) as well as the movies, listened to a lot of different Gethsemanes, I know this show.)

(this will also jump wildly between deep intellectual analysis and just me shamelessly appreciating the whump content, please bear with me)

can I start off by saying I really love the band and instrumentation and arrangements in 2012

The JCS overture is really long but I love it and it's always fun to see exactly what they do with it when it's staged. This production goes with showing Jesus's followers as protesters clashing with police, following news headlines, and then, during the calm choral "betrayal leitmotif", they're all gathered around Jesus staring at him in the most ominous way - then, as the first notes of "Heaven On Their Minds" play, Jesus closes his eyes and shakes his head a little, as if snapping out of a thought - as if he just felt the coming of betrayal. Neat.

Anyway, "Heaven On Their Minds"! This is such a good song. When I first saw JCS, as my school's production in 2005, and it opened not with Jesus but with Judas, presenting these totally reasonable concerns that he has about Jesus, I was already so intrigued by where this was going. Judas is the actual protagonist of JCS; one of the main narrative things it's doing is telling these events largely from his point of view, imagining how what he did might be interpreted to be sympathetic and understandable. This is why he gets the opening number and the final proper song with the show's closing musings. If you put on JCS and treat it like it's a story about Jesus with Judas as a side character, you're doing it wrong.

The iconic opening riff of “Heaven On Their Minds” is what I’m calling the “Agony” motif in my musical motif chart, because the places it recurs are the moment Judas resolves to hang himself in “Judas’s Death” and... “The 39 Lashes”. Originally I connected it to Judas, but “The 39 Lashes” has nothing at all to do with Judas; instead, the one thing that connects these three occurrences of the motif is pain - which really rather underlines how painful it is when Judas’s mind clears and he sees what lies ahead.

So, Judas: he was one of Jesus's closest friends, and a real, true believer in what this movement was originally about: charity, compassion, noble ideals. But lately, he's seen it turn into more of a cult of personality around Jesus himself - you've begun to matter more than the things you say. Now they're all thinking Jesus is the messiah, the Son of God - and worse, it's like Jesus is starting to believe it himself.

(Tim Minchin does this little frustrated eyeroll on you really do believe this talk of God is true, and I love it. I know his vocal performance is not to everyone's taste, and I get why especially with the unwarranted autotuning on the official recording, but I just love his actual acting here, his expressions and body language, so much. I was watching him for most of the show when I saw this live, because I usually spend most of JCS looking for whether Judas is doing something interesting in the background, and it was choice. Unfortunately the editor for this official recording isn't quite as interested in what Judas is doing in the background as I am, alas, and there are a lot of bits where I'd like to get a better look at him but we don't, but there are still some very good reactions.)

So, the reason this is bad, this whole messiah thing, is not only that calling Jesus their king might rub the authorities the wrong way, but also that now they're all expecting Jesus to up and free them from Roman oppression. Which is just not a thing that he can do! Judas is worried if Jesus doesn't deliver his followers will turn against him (and they'll hurt you when they find they're wrong). He's worried if Jesus actually does try anything, or heaven forbid, his followers just do it on their own - Jesus's words are already being taken out of context and twisted to justify whatever the speaker feels like - if they step so much as a toe over the line, that'll be all the excuse the Romans need to regard the Jewish community as a whole as violent insurgents or a delusional cult and bring in the army. This movement used to be a beautiful thing, but it's become an existential threat with the potential to get them all killed. And - when Judas tries to voice these concerns, Jesus brushes them off. He won't listen. Things are spiraling out of control, and Jesus won't do anything about it.

(Note, by the way, that a big part of Judas's worries is worries about Jesus in particular getting hurt.)

(Judas is very focused here on the future, all these things looming on the horizon that could happen if things continue as they are - so when we transition abruptly into the upbeat "What's the Buzz?", where Jesus tries to get his followers to think less about the future and more about the here and now, for all that it feels like a musical and textual non-sequitur we're actually kind of staying on theme.)

Jesus hasn't been doing anything about things or listening to Judas, and is very focused on the here and now, because as it happens he knows (or at least believes) that in a few days he is going to be tortured and executed, and really he doesn't entirely know what's going to happen after that, and this is pretty terrifying and stressful and right now he's dealing with that by trying to not think about it.

Why are you obsessed with fighting times and fates you can't defy? He basically means this at this point. Why would you try to fight inevitable fates? That’s pointless; it’s not like Jesus would ever do that. You just don’t think about them. Jesus is fine. It’s fine. This is fine.

(Mary is the one person who’s actively helping Jesus take his mind off things and stay in the moment. Emotionally he really needs to just relax and think of nothing and be told everything's all right, and Mary's the person who provides that. She alone has tried to give me what I need right here and now. I contend that this is the main point of Mary's role in the first act of JCS, more than her infatuation with him.)

Buuuut of course Judas has no idea what's behind this. As far as he can tell Jesus is just kind of hypocritically wasting his time on hedonistic indulgence, like the whole Son of God thing's just gone to his head, and like everything else about the situation, it's concerning, and he tries to speak out about it, in “Strange Thing, Mystifying”...

...which prompts Jesus to lash out. There was a sort of frustration behind some of his lines in “What’s the Buzz”, but he still just seemed to be preaching a general philosophy of staying in the here and now. At Judas’s criticisms, though, he's defensive and confrontational, exhorting him to not throw stones... and he's not done: I'm amazed that men like you can be so shallow, thick and slow! There is not a man among you who knows or cares if I come or go!

That's a total strange overreaction, especially since he starts out addressing Judas but then goes on to "There is not a man among you", when nobody else was saying anything, much less anything implying they don't care about Jesus. So, obviously, this isn't really about what Judas just said. What this is showing us is that Jesus has a lot of pent-up frustrations and concerns, too, and he's in a strangely delicate mood. It's kind of an odd sequence watching it for the first time; this lashout is weird! I thought it was weird when I first saw the show! But that’s the point. It’s here because it is weird, because Jesus is not as fine as he seems.

(This is what almost every song with Jesus in it in Act I is about. It's a series of incidents - many of them based on actual bits from the Bible - of Jesus lashing out unexpectedly and/or being strongly disillusioned with his followers and vaguely, bitterly alluding to his upcoming death. The weight of anticipating his own execution is taking a real psychological toll on him from the start, and this is all building towards where all those fears and doubts and worries and anger come out in "Gethsemane". It took me the longest time to properly notice this, that Jesus isn't just sort of being a drama queen out of nowhere here; these events are being presented like this to connect them into a cohesive speculative narrative that this was all just manifestations of Jesus's anxiety about the fact he believes he's going to die in a few days and he's not sure what he's really accomplished.)

While the apostles join together in a chorus of No, you're wrong! You're very wrong!, Judas silently pulls out a cigarette, because 2012 Judas smokes to calm his nerves and I love it. The nerves don't stop him rolling his eyes again in the background at Jesus's Not one of you!, though. (Jesus has probably been having these weird, oddly self-pitying lashouts for a little while now - it feels like a "this again" sort of eye-roll.)

Judas tries again to confront Jesus during "Everything's Alright", even more emphatic, but in a more sincere and genuine way - he really wants to get through to him. No, seriously, Jesus, why are you wasting expensive ointment on your feet and hair when the poor are starving - you know, the thing this movement was supposed to be about. Mary, probably a bit higher in emotional intelligence than Judas, can obviously tell that Jesus is just pretty stressed out right now and really needs some rest, and basically just tries to get Jesus to ignore him until he goes away - but Jesus responds to him anyway. Starts calm, but there's an oddly defeatist quality to what he's saying - there’ll always be poor people, we can't save them, look at the good things you've got... and then he launches into another bitter lashout: Think while you still have me, move while you still see me - you’ll be lost, you'll be so, so sorry, when I'm gone. Strike two on Jesus-is-not-as-fine-as-he-seems.

(Seriously, though, at this point it'd be reasonable to be pretty alarmed; from an outside perspective, these lines sound kind of suicidal. Perhaps that’s why Mary immediately steps in again to try to calm him down.)

Meanwhile, Judas silently backs off. What he takes away from these two confrontations is that Jesus isn't really happy either. He's not actually thrilled with his followers or what’s going on; he just seems to feel helpless and unable to change anything at all, and has apparently just resigned himself to it, instead of even trying to fix it.

I love how gloriously ominous the "Hosanna Superstar" bit of "This Jesus Must Die" is. It really makes this upcoming cheerful song sound like an omen of doom and horror, the way it feels to the Pharisees. It’s the same melody as “We need him crucified” in “Trial Before Pilate” - apt, since the crowd’s devotion to Jesus is the real problem that causes the Pharisees to believe they need to get him killed.

Thus, the Pharisees have basically the same concerns Judas does - Jesus's mass of fans is growing out of control, they're blasphemously insisting he's their king, and it's only a matter of time before this brings the wrath of the Romans down upon the entire Jewish nation. They only go a bit further by believing the only way to properly quash this movement is to put Jesus to death. (Which is kind of dubious - surely there's a danger that martyring him will just make people more devoted - but I appreciate that they, too, get basically sympathetic motivations. It’s the oppression of the Romans that’s the real enemy here; they only see Jesus as a real problem because of how the Romans might react.)

By "Hosanna", Jesus has recovered his usual composure and passion. This is the one Jesus song where he does genuinely seem to be doing all right, and in that way it serves as a good contrast to literally everything else in this musical. In it we see a glimpse of the preacher and activist that he’s been for these three years, almost bursting with glee as he tells the Pharisees they're not going to be quiet at all thank you very much. He preaches his message to the crowd: There is not one of you who cannot win the Kingdom - a kind, positive echo of yesterday's angry lashout. He loves this, and he still loves this movement. This is what it's all supposed to be about.

...only, of course, for some people to yell "Hey, J.C., J.C., won't you die for me!", and he turns his head, his smile fading just a little (I wish the camera stayed on him a little while longer here). But he recovers and carries on. Ha ha, yeah, he'd die for you.

Jesus's own rally leads directly into Simon's rave, full of adoring fans begging Jesus to touch and kiss them. Same enthusiasm, but more obviously a product of that cult of personality that Judas was worried about. And there in the middle of it is Simon, so bright-eyed and enthusiastic about the whole thing, telling him about how with his probably over 50,000 followers, he should add just a smidge of hatred towards the Romans, and you will rise to a greater power, we will win ourselves a home! He's one of those who want Jesus to be leading a violent revolution to free them.

I like how the first portion of "Poor Jerusalem" echoes a slow, somber version of the same melody as "Simon Zealotes" as Jesus laments, almost to himself, that none of them, nobody at all, understands power, or glory, or anything. This time Jesus isn't really angry, just kind of exhausted and contemplative. Nobody really seems to get his message; these poor misguided people won't get the revolution they're hoping for; Jerusalem itself is doomed. The city wouldn't be willing to do what's needed even if they knew.

To conquer death, you only have to die is one of my favorite lines. I’m an atheist, but as a kid I remember being taught at the Christian summer camp I went to that by dying himself, Jesus conquered death. That idea is twisted and presented the other way around here: to conquer death, you only have to die. Only. An darkly ironic presentation of it as if it were easy. It’s not as easy as Jesus would like it to be - but he truly believes that it’s what he must do.

"Pilate's Dream" has the same melody as the second half of “Poor Jerusalem” - because both Jesus and Pilate are contemplating an unsettling future that they have seen.

I do think it's a little wrong that 2012 Pilate chuckles at the end of "Pilate’s Dream”, though. The whole point of this song, as far as I can tell, is that he's unsettled by this dream, and it's probably part of why he's so reluctant to sentence Jesus to death later, so I think it's an incongruous choice to make it seem like he just sort of brushed it off as nonsense.

As I mentioned before, the arena tour staging includes Simon buying a gun during "The Temple", a really chilling detail that I liked a lot and that is in no way discernible in the official recording. Maybe the editor didn't notice, maybe it just wasn't very clear in the footage they got anyway, maybe it's some sort of ratings issue where showing a gun for a few seconds would just be too much (while the lengthy, brutal torture and execution scenes coming up are totally fine). Obviously it doesn't mean anything for the later narrative or anything (especially since the actual narrative is taking place in 33 AD and guns don't actually exist, regardless of the staging choices of any particular production), but it’s a nice way of using staging to lend further support to the overall point of how Jesus's followers variously fail to understand his teachings - it strengthens both Jesus’s and Judas’s concerns.

When Jesus and Judas arrive at the temple, they're arguing once again, though we don't know what about. Given the way Jesus is striding towards the doors and Judas is trying to hold him back, I imagine Judas is worried that doing something like running into the temple and breaking tables and screaming is the sort of attention-grabbing, polarizing stunt that'd be a really bad idea, and Jesus is upset and doesn't care.

(The bouncer doesn't let Judas in. I'm guessing Jesus tells him Judas is harassing him or something, within the staging-narrative where the temple is a nightclub that has a bouncer.)

So Jesus goes and smashes a table and yells at everyone to get out. This is probably where Jesus begins to alienate a lot of people, who were having a great time at the temple only for him to come in and have a breakdown at them.

(He's so angry, breathing hard, fists clenched after everyone's left. This isn't really about the temple either. He's really begun to realize how many of his followers don't get it at all, and he doesn't have time to fix that. He's been trying for so long and he's so tired.)

The leper bit makes a pretty similar point. Jesus wants to help all these people, and tries - but there are too many, and they're crowding him, and he's not going to be around to help them for much longer - so he desperately tells them to heal themselves, and they leave, probably thinking wow Jesus is kind of a jerk.

I'm sorry, I don't have anything to say about "I Don't Know How to Love Him", love ballads are pretty consistently my least favorite song in every musical, I like and appreciate Mary but my investment in this song pretty much begins and ends with its role in setting up the twisted reprise in "Judas's Death"

I enjoy the fourth-wall-leaning audacity of having the guitarist spotlighted on stage playing the solo before "Damned For All Time", and Judas is looking at him like "who are you, go away", and keeps looking evasively back at him while he's slowly getting the Pharisees' number out of his wallet and calling it. (It also helps show Judas feels pretty guilty and shameful about doing this, and works better for that than having extras on stage - if it were extras, we might expect that them witnessing this could actually mean something later, but when it's the guitarist, it's obvious he's just serving as an anonymous stand-in for a hypothetical random stranger who isn't literally part of the story.)

I like the shot of Judas looking into the security camera outside the Pharisees' building. (That’s decidedly not the same hairdo Tim Minchin has on stage, though.)

Judas opens his talk with the Pharisees, without even greeting them first, by frantically justifying himself, talking about how this is weird and hard for him but there was just nothing else he could do, he's not hoping for a reward or anything, he's been forced to do this, he's not a dirty traitor, please don't think that. He really doesn't want to be here. But here he is anyway, because Jesus can't control it like he did before - and furthermore I know that Jesus thinks so too, Jesus wouldn't mind that I'm here with you. He's seen Jesus over the past few days and he's pretty sure he has this figured out. Jesus can see just as well as he does where things are headed - it's just he's helpless to control it and doesn't know what to do about it. So this has to be done. He'd probably want Judas to bail him out of this, just get him arrested and the movement shut down, for everyone's sake. (Jesus is so self-sacrificing, after all.) Right? He'd be fine with this. Right? (Judas is fine.)

("Damned For All Time" is just Judas wildly word-vomiting trying to placate his own guilt and I love it. He's legitimately afraid of where things are headed if he doesn't do this, and thinks it has to ultimately be the right thing, but that doesn't make him feel any better about it.)

(I like how Caiaphas just sort of coolly listens to him ramble his head off like this while he sips his drink.)

Judas goes for a cigarette again (calming those nerves), and Annas helpfully lights it for him - prompting Judas's next ramble. Annas, you're a friend, a worldly man and wise - Caiaphas, my friend, I know you sympathize. It's not like he's selling Jesus out to anyone unreasonable. Annas is nice! We three, we get it, right? You get it. We're the people who can see when a difficult thing just has to be done, did I mention I HAVE to do this and this is not about money - only for Annas to tell him to cut it out with this blather and excuses and just give them the information they want. And also, they'll pay him handsomely!

I don't need your blood money! Judas says, then I don't want your blood money! Sometimes these lines are reversed, which sounds better - there's something more satisfying about the vowel in need than in want - but I think textually this original order is important. First he's sort of polite-ish-ly declining, saying no, he doesn't need any money, but then when they insist, he declines more firmly, that he doesn't want it either. (I love the way he shoves Annas's hand away.) It's so important to Judas's own principles that he came here because he thinks it's right, not because he wants payment; the idea of being paid makes it way worse.

...But then Caiaphas grabs the cigarette out of his mouth (leaving him a bit shaken with nothing to hold onto anymore) and goes well, you can give it to charity, or to the poor; they understand that's not why he's doing this, but they'd still like to pay him a fee. And that's the reason he ultimately does take the money: because just a few days earlier he was telling Jesus off for letting money be wasted when it could have gone to the poor. How could he do the same?

(Judas is not doing this for the money in this show. He is not being tempted by the money. He was not going to take the money until he was told he could give it to charity. One of the professional live productions I saw just did not understand this at all, and no. Judas is the protagonist! He is not here for the money! It's done right here, with the Pharisees just throwing the money at him after he names Gethsemane, and him not even reacting, just slowly picking it up afterwards. Tim Minchin gets Judas.)

I like to think the Well done, Judas / Good old Judas chorus is sort of the voice of the Divine Plan, such as it is, which he's now done his first part in.

"The Last Supper" has slowly become one of my favorite parts of the entire show, and I particularly enjoy it in this particular production.

Judas walks in and doesn't look at Jesus at all - can't quite bear to, at the moment. Jesus looks after him, knowing exactly what's going on... and that's when he starts in on The end is just a little harder when brought about by friends.

Jesus has a drink of the wine, which I like a lot. This definitely is a drinking sort of moment. I like the idea of him being a little inebriated in this scene.

For all you care, this wine could be my blood. For all you care, this bread could be my body. The end... This is my blood you drink, this is my body you eat. Judas reflexively rolls his eyes again - Jesus off on one of these weird sorts of rants yet again. (As with so much, I love that Jesus Christ Superstar takes this bit of the Bible and lets it just be a weird thing to say, recontextualizes it as an empty, halfhearted statement that he doesn't feel like his followers even care hours before his impending arrest, instead of treating it as something profound and meaningful. Again and again, Jesus is portrayed less as a noble profound religious figure and more as just a person haunted by mounting dread and anxiety, and I love it so much.)

Jesus sort of tries to make this into a nice, comforting thing, to ask them to remember him when they eat and drink - but it doesn't work. It's happening tonight, and here they all are, these people, his supposed followers, who don't understand a thing he's said, ever, and Jesus just breaks. I must be mad, thinking I'll be remembered! Yes, I must be out of my head! Look at your blank faces! My name will mean nothing ten minutes after I'm dead! (Judas looks up vaguely, kind of concerned - Jesus, this is further than he usually goes.) One of you denies me, one of you betrays me! And that's when Judas really looks up. Jesus knows.

There's a pause, a commotion, and Jesus is going to just retreat and leave it at that - but no, then he keeps going. He calls out Peter specifically for being about to deny him three times, shoving him, and then yells about how one of my twelve chosen will leave to betray me! At which Judas finally stands up. Cut out the dramatics! You know very well who! It's obvious that somehow Jesus found out. (Maybe Judas thinks the guitarist might have told on him.)

Judas's surprised You want me to do it? when Jesus tells him to go do it delights me. Judas, I thought you knew that Jesus totally wanted you to do this. It's almost like you didn't really know that at all and just convinced yourself of that to feel better about it. (Obviously, though, Jesus clearly doesn't actually want it so much, does he, the way he's shouting.)

Judas tries to explain himself but Jesus doesn't care - he doesn’t want to hear about why one of his most trusted friends wants to betray him to the authorities, not when this has to happen and he can’t prevent it. Judas is really nervous and defensive and hurt by his hostility, declares he hates Jesus now. (You liar, you Judas! Jesus says, which is kind of hilarious and also - yeah, he's a liar, he doesn't hate Jesus at all.) You wanted me to do it? What if I just stayed here and ruined your ambition? Christ, you deserve it! Judas still kind of wants to just stay and cancel the whole thing, even if it's simply justified as petulant spite. But Jesus tells him to just go already; he just wants to get this over with, as quickly as possible, because it hurts.

Judas is near tears as he turns away to get his things. The apostles have no idea what's going on, singing, some of them trying to see if Judas is okay, which suggests they have no idea what they were even talking about - whatever this 'betrayal' is supposed to be, it doesn’t cross their minds that Judas is about to get Jesus arrested.

Judas trudges up the steps, batting them away, still on the verge of tears - only then he stops, his face changing. And he throws down his backpack and turns for one final confrontation with Jesus. You sad, pathetic man! Look what you've brought us to! Our ideals die around us, and all because of you! This is still about their ideals for him, after all. And yet, saddest of all, someone had to turn Jesus in - like a common criminal, he first says, but then, like a wounded animal, someone helpless to help themselves, who needs to be pitied and put out of their misery. Jesus could have done something. Jesus could have put a stop to this. Why does he have to do it? (Why does he have to do it?)

Every time I look at you, I don't understand why you let the things you did get so out of hand. You'd have managed better if you'd had it planned. Why? Jesus does have a plan, of sorts, of course - it's just that this is all part of it. Judas doesn't believe Jesus is actually the Son of God, or that he could possibly have a "plan" that involves dying for some grand cosmic cause. As far as he can tell Jesus's actions are just bizarre and pathetic and self-defeating, and he's been saddled with the unfortunate, dirty job of saving Jesus from himself.

(Judas presumably still doesn't realize that the Pharisees plan to literally have him killed. I doubt he'd be doing this, or at least not in this way, if he knew.)

In the wake of this final confrontation, Mary hugs Peter, who Jesus just shoved and accused of denying him. She considers going to Jesus too, but Peter convinces her they'd probably best leave it alone. Peter himself seems to be considering going to Jesus, but then doesn't. Everyone dejectedly goes to sleep. Jesus is alone for tonight, his apostles alienated, his right-hand man gone as Jesus must wait for him to return with soldiers and set the dreaded end in motion. This must be the loneliest, most awful night of his life.

Jesus rubs his hand hard against a stair as the apostles are finishing their song - an agitated fidget that I am far more fond of than I should be. As he realizes they've all gone to sleep, he grips it instead, something to hold on to. Will no one stay awake with me? Peter, John, James? He just sounds broken and like he's about to cry. Which is good. He sings all of Gethsemane sounding like he's on the verge of tears and that's exactly how it should sound, do not at me.

(Please bear with me as I go on about this Gethsemane because it's my favorite one ever at this point, haters to the left)

See, when I first saw this production (I saw the official recording once before I realized it was still on and I could see it live), I didn't really like Ben Forster's Jesus for the first half! He seemed sort of over-the-top and I wasn't the biggest fan of his voice and all in all I was ehhh on him. But then he did "Gethsemane" and I just felt it to my core in a way I'd never felt it before, and it floored me. I've watched and listened to a lot of versions of this song. There are better singers who make it more pleasant to listen to - but they tend to be very dignified and Jesus-y about it, like this poised religious figure just having a brief moment of vulnerability and emotionality. Even the performances specifically praised for being emotional tend to be the ones that just make it really angry. And I've seen a lot of great ones of both varieties! But Ben Forster just makes it so raw and human. Like this terrified, exhausted, desperate human being who's spent the entire preceding hour of this play dreading this thing that's coming, his resolve finally faltering in this moment of agonizing solitude as his doubts and fears and frustrations finally come pouring out, how much he wants to call the whole thing off, begging to either not have to do this or at least be properly convinced why he should. It's what made me properly start to look at Jesus's character progression during this story in the first place and notice all the buildup about his fragile mental state that's always been there in the lyrics. This is the “Gethsemane” that made me really, truly care about Jesus.

he's rubbing the stair again at the beginning of the song, I'm sorry I love fidgets and nervous gestures you guys

I've never heard anyone emphasize three years the way Ben Forster does, and the desperation of it hits me in the heart. Weren't these three years enough?

Let's talk about You're far too keen on where and how, and not so hot on why, which is pretty key to this show’s interpretation of Jesus. He and the Almighty are definitively not the same entity here; Jesus knows or believes he knows a lot of things about how this is all going to play out, and even some of the future beyond that (in "Poor Jerusalem"), but he doesn't actually understand what his death is supposed to accomplish. He knows that he's going to be crucified and it's going to happen because Judas betrays him and so on and so on, and that this is all supposedly very important, and Jesus has been willing to accept that without question, but really he doesn't know the whys here and never has, and as much as he's just never questioned it anyway because of his absolute conviction that this is God’s plan, he can't not do so now, when he's going to have to suffer an agonizing death in the service of these inscrutable goals, not sometime in the vague far future but soon.

(Technically, for all we know, Jesus isn’t the Son of God. God doesn’t answer him; the song is a monologue. Jesus has suspiciously specific knowledge of the future but that’s about it as far as actual concrete evidence of his divinity goes in this show. But what matters is that he believes this is what God wills.)

His initial All right. I'll die. Just watch me die! is so spiteful, only for the following lines to just turn into this anguished scream, and it kills me

I love the way he collapses on the stairs, and just finally breaks down and starts crying, and there's that agitated rubbing of the stair again

The second three years is just exhausted and my heart still breaks for it. These have been a hard three years. Seems like ninety.

Why then am I scared to finish is probably my favorite line in this. He just sounds so broken and desperate and actually scared, and his body language is so tense and agitated and desperate; he's so angry at himself for being scared when this has been the plan all along and for some reason now he just can’t seem to go through with it.

And then he has that realization. What I started? ...What you started. I didn't start it! This isn't his plan. He's just a cog in God's machinery. It's a fixed, unavoidable fate, isn't it? And he finds a kind of desperate acceptance in just thinking of it that way - at least for a moment (before I change my mind!). But it's a spiteful acceptance. He's addressing God now. I will drink your cup of poison, nail me to your cross and break me, bleed me, beat me, kill me, take me now! Because it's you who are doing this. It's your cross, you who are killing me. Note the contrast to earlier: Let them hate me, hit me, hurt me, nail me to their tree. It's not actually the people who are responsible for any of this, even if they’ll technically be the ones to do the deed; it's God's plan, his cross, his crucifixion.

I love how he looks so tense standing there afterwards while the audience is applauding, because he's not actually waiting for applause, he's waiting for the soldiers to arrest him and set him on the path to his execution. Arms spread at first, in a come at me sort of way, but then he just clenches his fists at his sides, eyes closed, still waiting.

There he is. They're all asleep, the fools. Implying Judas wouldn't have just gone to sleep, if he'd been left there. AU where Jesus has literally anyone to comfort him, instead of standing there alone desperately pleading to God to not have him killed. Hnngh.

The kiss is just as it is in the Bible, of course. But there, it's presented as a sort of extra nasty element of this betrayal, that he'd be betrayed with a kiss. Here, it's more like Judas just wants to say goodbye, one last time, and does it in this kind of tender way.

And... Jesus breaks down crying, clings to him, pulls him into a hug. Because of course he does. The reminder that Judas still cares, memories of everything they've been through together, and the knowledge this is probably his last chance at some kind of comforting human contact? Of course he does. He just wants to not be alone, for a few seconds, before the end.

At first Judas just sort of lets him do it, but by the time the soldiers come along to separate them, Judas is clinging to Jesus, too. Ohh, my heart.

The apostles wake up at the commotion and are immediately on their feet to fight off the soldiers. There is not a man among you who knows or cares if I come or go, Jesus said, a few days ago; now here they are, worrying for him, wanting to save him. But he has to stop them. He mustn't be saved, and they'd only get themselves hurt. Put away your sword - don't you see that it's all over? It was nice but now it's gone. That exhausted resignation.

Why are you obsessed with fighting? Stick to fishing from now on. He doesn't sound angry here - it's just kind of a gentle rebuke. He's touched that they tried. I like that he plays it that way; it'd be legit to make it angry, but in the context of how Jesus has spent a lot of time feeling like they don't really care at all and in this moment it finally becomes clearer to him that they do - not to mention that this is basically his final goodbye to them - it makes sense to let it be kind of tender.

From this point on, Jesus has to just quietly accept his fate. He's very silent, barely says anything - because now things just have to play out how they play out, and nothing he says will change anything, nor should change anything.

The reporters asking questions here (to the melody of "The Temple") are one of the relatively few major anachronisms baked into the actual lyrics as opposed to any particular production. They're not really reporters; it's kind of a representation of some of his previous followers watching this as a kind of spectacle, expecting him to make a dramatic escape or fight back, excited by what's happening (you'll just DIE in the high priest's house!), rather than sympathizing or caring. These are the people who are going to ultimately turn against him as a mob and pressure Pilate into crucifying him.

Caiaphas asks if Jesus is the Son of God. Jesus says That's what you say, yet another line based directly on the Bible. Growing up I always just found that kind of a silly thing for him to say - why won't he just stick to his story instead of suddenly acting like he never said such a thing? But it makes real sense here. Again, Jesus is resigned to his fate, to passively letting this happen. He's not going to deny it or try to get out of it, because he can't and mustn't. But he has no desire to speak up about how the rocks and stones will sing for him right now, or actively provoke them and give them more reasons to persecute him. He's just going to stand here and let things happen until it's over.

(also, he probably doesn't really feel so much like the Son of God right now)

Judas, thank you for the victim! Stay a while and you'll see him bleed! In this production, Caiaphas and Annas both say the last sentence together, but originally it's just Annas, which has always led me to feel that where Caiaphas is pure cold pragmatism and just believes this is what needs to be done for the sake of the nation, Annas is bit of a twisted son of a bitch. He's obviously intentionally twisting the knife here, because he thinks Judas's conflictedness about the whole thing is a bit pathetic and hilarious and likes to see him squirm.

(let me complain again about the editor not letting us see Judas's reaction to this line)

Peter's reluctance to throw his phone on the fire is a mood

also him threatening the homeless people with a broken bottle when they keep pressing him on whether he was with Jesus, before Mary takes it off him, is something I enjoy

Pilate and Christ probably takes place at Pilate’s gym in this staging to show Pilate hasn’t even made time for Jesus in an official capacity - he’s just being unexpectedly brought before him in his off time, hence why he’s particularly dismissive here.

Jesus barely looks at Pilate. Another dispassionate That's what you say.

How can someone in your state be so cool about his fate? An amazing thing, this silent king. Of course, Pilate doesn't understand any more than anyone else that Jesus being crucified is the plan. Again, Jesus is just letting this play out.

He does look up when Pilate declares he should go to Herod instead, though. It must be torture for him having this drawn out further. Poor Jesus, having to suffer through a comic relief number when he just wants to get this over with.

Jesus does look at Herod as he's making all these offers of letting him free if he'll just perform a miracle. It's got to be a tempting thought despite everything. But no, he must still sit there and let it happen.

"These results are for entertainment purposes only and do not reflect any real votes. The outcome is predetermined by the character of King Herod who clearly is going to find Jesus guilty of being a fraud otherwise it would be a very short Act 2." Going all the way with that fourth-wall-breaking.

the bit where they put the hood over Jesus's head sure hits some specific button I didn't realize I had

Judas there with his head buried in his hands in the background towards the end of "Could We Start Again Please" ohhhh

I feel like the usual implication with the abrupt opening of "Judas's Death" is that Judas has just been seeing Jesus being beaten, whereas here he's explicitly sitting there with the apostles contemplating what he's done and just gets up and freaks out when Caiaphas and Annas happen to walk by. I like him punching Caiaphas, but the way he just goes from zero to sixty there does feel a little weird. I don't care, though, Judas in the background during "Could We Start Again Please" is worth it.

For all that Judas is mortified by the way Jesus is being made an example of, he can also see the way his name will forever be associated with treachery, and none of his good intentions meant anything at all in the end. He’s wracked with guilt at what he’s done, but additionally all he can see in the future is being vilified and reviled, blamed for Jesus’s murder.

Ugh Annas kicking Judas while he's down he's such a bastard

Tim Minchin goes so all out on making "Judas's Death" just ugly anguished screaming and crying and I am so here for it.

Judas has never believed in the divinity of Jesus, but Jesus has some strange, intense, frightening quality that both Judas and Mary can feel, and just before his final breakdown, although Judas is telling himself that He's a man - he's just a man!, he seems to be starting to feel that that's not quite true: he starts to wonder if Jesus will leave him be after his death, and then right after the "I Don't Know How to Love Him" reprise is where his mental state takes a turn as he realizes God is behind all this, that perhaps the whole thing was planned.

The projecting images of Jesus' torment up onto the background screen as Judas is despairing is also very good - Jesus hasn't even been sentenced yet but he knows where this is headed and he sure is imagining it and feeling responsible for it.

Judas, like Jesus, concludes here that it's God who orchestrated all this and he never got a choice. In his case, though, it's serving as a way of running from his guilt. We got to hear all about his reasons for thinking this was the right thing to do, after all - it's not as if he was literally controlled into anything. He didn't realize he was dooming Jesus to a horrible death at the time, but he still did it of his own free will. And it isn't a real comfort - all it means is that in his final anguished moments he has someone to scream his despair at. You have murdered me!

(hang me from your tree)

the particular scream and sob that he does as he kicks the box out from under him hits my buttons very hard hhhh

Poor old Judas, so long, Judas, goes the Plan chorus. There's a pretty callous quality to that, appropriately enough for a very callous Plan involving a lot of suffering.

Please give my compliments to the sound designer who makes a point of turning on Jesus' microphone so we can hear his strained breathing before "Trial Before Pilate" begins

Jesus's resolve to say nothing of substance is breaking by this point, and he actually answers Pilate's "Where is your kingdom?" I have got no kingdom in this world, I'm through, through, through - there may be a kingdom for me somewhere, if I only knew. It's probably pretty hard to feel like he's headed for a triumphant resurrection right now, and the fact he's spilling those doubts to Pilate in a moment of frustrated honesty is pretty tragic.

(Some versions, including the 1973 movie, change this lyric to if you only knew. No! Bad! The whole point here is Jesus doubting it! If you want to change it you should not be putting on this show!)

Then he's a king? It’s what you say I am! I look for truth and find that I get damned! This frustration coming out here is so good.

Pilate's frustration is very good too - just dripping off every line. This mob of people insisting he sentence this harmless fool to death (one who reminds him uncomfortably of this dream that he had the other day), crowing about Caesar all of a sudden like they're oh so very concerned with protecting Caesar's authority.

As Jesus once again refuses to talk, there’s a brief mournful instrumental interlude before Look at your Jesus Christ - this is a slowed-down version of a bit of “Prescience”, the motif from “Pilate’s Dream”. He remembers that unsettling dream, consciously or unconsciously, and feels sympathy and pity for this strange man before him. After that is when he begins to argue that Jesus hasn’t committed any crime and there’s no reason to kill him.

can we appreciate that Webber and Rice went and made a song called "The 39 Lashes" that's literally just Pilate counting excruciatingly to 39 while Jesus screams in pain

can we also appreciate Jesus writhing on the floor after rolling down the stairs, Ben Forster really goes for it in acting out all this pain and torture and I love him for it

Why do you not speak when I have your life in my hands? asks Pilate, and Jesus just about musters the energy to say, You have nothing in your hands. Any power you have comes to you from far beyond - everything is fixed and you can't change it! He's kind of desperate to make Pilate understand this. Pilate keeps on trying to get Jesus to say something that'll let him release him, but that can't happen, because this must be so. Pilate needs to just play his part and get it over with, please get it over with.

And so, Pilate has to appease the mob and let him die, even though he doesn't want to at all, and tries to wash his hands of it. Much like in his dream, though, he'll in fact be remembered as the guy who sentenced Jesus to death. Clearly didn't wash your hands well enough, Pilate

It's such a delightfully bold creative decision to place an upbeat number like "Superstar" right here as Jesus is about to be crucified.

It's fascinating to see the differences in how this song in particular is staged; it's so abstract and disconnected that different directors really go nuts with it. Some productions, including the 2000 movie, imply Judas has come out of Hell to taunt him; the movie in particular makes a point of having Judas lazily, cruelly stand on the cross while Jesus is trying to carry it, grinning at his agony, surrounded by scantily clad demon women, though he has a moment of doubt and guilt as Jesus stares at him. (That movie generally posits Judas as not in control of his actions at all - so God is apparently basically just making him do this as part of his torture in Hell, which is delightfully twisted.) Others (including this one and the 1973 movie) have him among angels, as if he's descended from Heaven. In the 1973 movie Carl Anderson seems largely to just be singing it to himself - it cuts to Jesus carrying the cross a few times, but Judas isn't there.

Here, "Superstar" feels a bit like a delirious hallucination Jesus is experiencing. Judas descends on the stage lights that are about to form the cross (what an entrance) and performs the song surrounded by angels while Jesus is being affixed to the cross; they look at each other, but Judas doesn't really interact with him. There's definitely no taunting; Tim Minchin plays it in a very good-natured way, not even the kind of angry questioning of Carl Anderson in the 1973 movie. Effectively, despite the hallucinatory vibes, the way it comes across to me is Judas really is actually there in spirit, from a timeless afterlife, having had an eternity to think and come to terms with and understand what Jesus was doing - and finally just asking him some questions, without judgement. Is he what they say he is? What does he think about Buddha and Mohammed? Why didn't he choose a different time period where it would've been easier to spread his message? Did he know his death would inspire millions? It's all a sort of musing, fourth-wall-leaning modern perspective, not hostile, just curious.

Also this version just makes me happy because Judas seems happy and mentally at peace in the afterlife and who doesn't want that

Anyway, from that to Jesus crying on the cross. And I mean crying. Once again Ben Forster delivers the human suffering element of this story. "The Crucifixion" is a weird, weird song, chaotic and noisy and kind of offputting and tends to feel sort of inappropriate for the mood; in this production you don't even notice because the staging is so brutal. There's no cool symbolic dignity to this; Jesus is just crying and screaming and sobbing the whole time, yelling the disconnected final-words lines in an agonized, delirious haze. You actually believe you're watching a man dying in agony, God damn. It hurts and I love it.

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? is the most gutwrenching line, of course. (And straight out of the Bible, lest we forget - I think it’s fascinating that in the likely oldest gospel of Mark as well as Matthew, this horrible, heartwrenching, human cry is all he says on the cross, while the gospels of John and Luke instead each feature their own disjoint sets of more profound-sounding sayings. It’s hard not to wonder if the other lines might be inventions by those gospels’ human authors or their sources, people who perhaps just didn’t want Jesus’s final words to be something so achingly desperate and vulnerable.) He's done all this to carry out God's great plan, and yet in this moment, in the middle of this nightmare of slow, unending agony, he feels certain that God has abandoned him and he's just dying, alone, pointlessly, for nothing. Ow, my empathetic heart.

You can hear him feeling death approaching at last and the relief he feels at that realization just before It is finished and Father, into your hands I commend my spirit

(it's easier to believe again when his suffering is finally, mercifully about to end)

Ben Forster also does a very good job not visibly breathing when he's playing a corpse. On this blog we appreciate the little things.

I've always found it pretty neat and interesting that Jesus Christ Superstar does not include the resurrection or any allusion to it at all; he just dies on the cross, they mourn and carry him away, and the show ends. Again, the only thing in this show that’s at all supernatural is that Jesus seems to know the future, and even that is fairly ambiguous. It's a story about human suffering, and it's a hugely compelling story without him rising from the dead at the end, which'd just kind of cheapen it. You can imagine that he did, but this ending invites you to contemplate that this story is just as meaningful if he did not.

In conclusion, Jesus Christ Superstar is one of my absolute favorite things and the 2012 arena tour is my baby

Thank you for coming to my TED talk

#jesus christ superstar #ramble #review #character analysis #my buttons #holy jesus this is long #8500 words of JCS rambling #which is almost as much as I wrote about episode four of Breaking Bad

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tisthenightofthewitch · 6 years ago

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GHOST'S TOBIAS FORGE ON FILM PLANS, COPIA'S FUTURE, "DARKER, HEAVIER" NEXT ALBUM

Bandleader also talks Metallica, Mercyful Fate, why a Ghost biopic would be "like premature ejaculation"

The Gospel of Cardinal Copia began barely a year ago, his birth as the new frontman of Ghost neither virginal nor particularly miraculous. But there he stands, a religious man of style and mystery: left eye icy blue and blazing, dressed in fine liturgical threads, leading a band of Nameless Ghouls in silver masks through songs of plague and vermin, love and death.

In the eleven months since the beatific release of Ghost's epic fourth album, Prequelle, much has happened in the world of this wildly theatrical metal act from Sweden. The first of these events was the reveal of Tobias Forge as the living, breathing mastermind behind the masks and papal vestments. Though he's never explicitly stated as such, it's widely understood that it's been Forge all along behind the mic, disguised in corpse paint and/or latex masks, first as a series of consecutive demonic popes called Papa Emeritus (Nos. I-III), before reemerging in 2018 as the grimly debonair Cardi Copia.

Prequelle was a medieval concept album that became a hit, spreading the word of Ghost to a growing congregation, in the U.S. reaching No. 3 on the Billboard album chart, and the Top 10 across most of Europe. An American tour filled theaters and last year delivered Ghost to select arenas in Los Angeles, New York and Montreal. It was all a preamble to Ghost's upcoming Ultimate Tour Named Death, a true arena tour of North America, where the band will deliver a fully realized, theatrical rock show of stained glass and fireballs this fall, beginning Sept. 13th in Bakersfield. (Ghost is also openingfor Metallica this summer on a "WorldWired" European stadium tour.)

"For some reason and luckily for me, I have never really crumbled in front of challenges — maybe going to the dentist," Forge tells Revolver. "I've always got a kick out of doing challenging things. More than anything, it just forces me to go further."

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As a lifelong devotee of Queen and Kiss, Forge is a true believer in the power of rock's epic sweep. Taking Ghost to its fullest potential as operatic spectacle is the ultimate fantasy-come-true for Forge, who birthed the band with few expectations a decade ago with a trio of satanic metal tracks.

"There were definitely moments where I had to walk into the arena in the morning and pinch myself a little bit: All these trucks are ours? All this is just for us?" Forge says of his experiences at the handful of headline arena shows Ghost performed last year in America. "I've always wanted to do this since I was a child. I've envisioned it so many times that I don't know really where the dream ended and it sort of went into reality."

Out of costume and out of character, Forge is a friendly and contemplative figure, a seemingly humble rocker and family man behind Ghost's larger than life image. And there is much still to be done as he heads into this final leg of Ghost's Prequelle cycle. To accompany the tour, he's just completed a new series of online video "webisodes" that dive deeper into the mystery of Copia through Gothic intrigue and comedy.

"There are a few episodes coming in the future that might bring some clarity as to who this fucker is," Forge says of Copia, without offering details. "My hope is that he gets to become Papa Emeritus IV. That is the goal. It just takes time and it takes effort. And that is what he's proving now."

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The videos are an essential part of the band's mythology, and now Forge is close to realizing his ambition to create the first feature-length Ghost movie. If all goes well, the film will be shot before the end of the year.

"If it wasn't for the fact that I ended up finally being a musician, the one thing I really, really want to do in my life is cinema," Forge says. "Any chance I can have to do that, I'm definitely grabbing it."

There had been discussions about this over the years. As an especially visual band, with its own cavalcade of insane characters, the potential was obvious, but things often got stuck on the form a movie might take. "Most films about bands are biographical, and I see no reason to tell our story yet," says Forge, who still considers Ghost to be in its early years. "It's a little bit like premature ejaculation. You have to have a career first and then you can tell the real story, so that was never an option. And when you yank away that, what do you have? Well, that would be a fictional story."

He's confident that the story of the film has now been figured out, and would partly take place around a live concert. Figuring out the location, budget, etc. will make all the difference.

"The cog wheels are turning on that one," he says. "We're just trying to figure out a lot of the practicalities. Making a film is a big endeavor. Another problem that I have had over the course of my career is that I don't have a shit-ton of time. I am also a father of two kids and I'm married. I try to not to break my back. I've been so close so many times to overworking and I said yes to everything just because I was so keen on not losing momentum. I've learned over the years that it's really important not to do everything at once."

Beyond the film and the final leg of this tour, Forge is contemplating what comes next when he returns to the studio in 2020 to begin work on a new Ghost album. He's leaning toward a harder, riffier sound this time. He'll start in January and finish that summer.

"I want to make a different record from Prequelle. I want it to feel different," says Forge, being careful with his words to avoid misleading fans. "If I dare to say heavier, people think that it's going to be Mercyful Fate all the way ... but I definitely have a darker, heavier record in mind."

Prequelle, he says now, was "a little ballad heavy." The next one will lean more in the imposing direction of 2015's Meliora without repeating the same ideas. He's worked to make each album different, starting with 2010's gloomy, metallic debut, Opus Eponymous.

While the sound and message of Ghost remains rooted in the initial ideas he first had when he wrote the riff to "Stand by Him" as a mostly unknown metal player in Sweden, years before first trying on the pope attire. He's also made a point of evolving as a lyricist.

"I have always pushed myself to write the songs that we don't have instead of going back — it maybe would've been a smart move to just try to replicate Opus," he explains. "I can regurgitate. I grew up with metal. It's in my DNA, so I can formulate death-metal lyrics easily. But I try not to repeat myself on that.

"I like to make the Metallica comparison — where Kill 'Em All is a little bit more crude, on Ride the Lightning they started writing about more real things. It had more depth," he adds. "I'm not going change everything and just talk about politics, but I believe that if you have people's attention, you have responsibility to weigh with your words a little. Sometimes that is hard. I find that harder than the musical challenges."

Even so, the unexpected opportunity to take his vision of Ghost to ever larger scope across multiple albums and now onstage at arena-scale is a challenge he welcomes.

"I try to remind myself every day that it's pretty mind-blowing that we got to this spot. You need to try to appreciate 100 percent and do the best every day and nurture," Forge says, then adds with a laugh, "At the risk of sounding a little religious, this is a gift that you've been given."

All rights owned by Revolver Magazine

#The Band Ghost #Ghost Band #Cardinal Copia #Tobias Forge

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kalluun-patangaroa · 5 years ago

Text

Suede

SKY magazine, December 1993

written by Simon Witter

"HELLO! WHAT HAVE WE GOT HERE?!" asks Brett Anderson rhetorically, staring at the fluff he has just removed from his ear. "I haven't taken these earrings off for about nine years."

It may seem an incongruous moment to ask the 27-year-old indie pin-up about his personal style, but hey, that's the kind of guy I am. "Tatty," replies Brett with a wry smile. "I haven't been able to get out and go shopping."

Brett Anderson, frontman of Suede – the British pop sensation of 93 – is hotly rumoured to have a great dress sense. Today however, perched uncomfortably behind an executive desk at the central London HQ of his record company, his head inadvertently framed by a halo of Right Said Fred promotional balloons, he is sporting a navy blue jeans'n'top ensemble he accurately describes as "just anything". Brett has been telling me how he spends most of his time with people who work in shops or are unemployed – "real people, not in the business" – so I presume this boutique bonding provides a clue to his supposed, though temporarily non-evident, style savvy.

"Oh no," he gasps. "Not clothes shops! Most of my friends are in food shops. So I know a good bit of brie when I see it."

The thought of Brett Anderson having, at any point in his life, ever eaten food, conjures images of pigs flapping their trotters as they sail past this second floor window. But we press on with the personal style enquiry.

"I want to change it at the moment," he says. "I'm sick of wearing second-hand things. I used to have a grudge against new clothes because I don't like wearing things that another thousand people are wearing. It's nothing to do with being into clothes from years ago, or tatty clothes at all. I'm quite keen to toy around with my style until I eventually find something, to have clothes made for me. There's never anything, when I go out and look for clothes, that I really love. I've got quite a strong vision of what I want, which would be very, very well fitted things. I don't like baggy things. I like lots of ethnic looks. I really like the Spanish look, that sort of matador thing." By way of explanation, Brett strikes a pose, clicking imaginary castanets above his head. "I like that shape. Prince wears a really brilliant little thing sometimes. When I kept getting my bellybutton out, it was really a desire to achieve that shape more than anything, nothing to do with flaunting my navel."

It's well worth flashing your bellybutton while you still can, I assure him, a rueful hand on my own expanding waistline.

"Yep," he smiles. "Well I can't anymore. Not after that chinese last night."

In May of 1992 Suede released their first single, 'The Drowners'. They had already been on the cover of Melody Maker – before they had a record out – and would grace 18 other British magazine covers over the next year, including the cover of Q on just their second single. Their eponymous debut album, released last March, went straight to No. One in the charts and went on to win the Mercury Prize, and last autumn they released a full-length concert video Love & Poison. At this rate, it will be time for their memoirs by easter.

Within the bizarre, incestuous fishbowl of the British music media, Suede have become almost self-damagingly important. After a couple of wilderness years spent faffing about, finding their feet and being universally loathed, their overnight transformation into the most hyped band in the world was nothing short of miraculous. Yet it created impossibly high expectations of their music. A German friend told me how surprised he was, after long distance exposure to their media glare, to discover how average Suede sounded – a judgment that casual discovery of the first album would hardly have elicited. And while touring America, their support act the Cranberries famously outshone them by an enormous factor when it came to album sales. Yet phase one of Suede's career has been – or appeared to be – so extraordinary, that they are going to be hard-pressed to follow it up with anything similarly momentous.

For now, we have 'Stay Together', a new, epically long single. As a measure of Suede's magnitude in the reality-starved world of British indie pop, I am treated to an absurd preview of the track the day before meeting Brett. Before entering the listening room I am subjected to a bag search to check – I kid you not! – that I'm not carrying a concealed tape recorder.

In LA, the world capital of muso control freakism, I was played U2's Desire, the immediate-follow up to their 15-million selling Joshua Tree album, eons before its release without anyone thinking twice. Yet now, without a hint of humour or irony, I am being treated as if I not only know anyone who cares what the next Suede single sounds like, but would be willing to pay for a tape of it recorded through a leather bag.

After regaining consciousness, I join in the fiasco, insist on a full body search (well, at less reputable establishments you'd have to pay good money for this touchy-feely experience) and am seated. The label boss places two speakers on each side of my head, facing my ears from about 20" away, turns it up LOUD, and begins to do that embarrassing, pseudo appreciative in-chair grooving that only people who work in record companies and recording studios have the gall to indulge in. "It's not pompous," he assures me, "even though it's eight minutes long."

Of course any pop song – as opposed to dance record – that lasts eight minutes is by definition pompous. 'Bohemian Rhapsody' was gloriously, defiantly pompous with a side order of pomposity to go. But, despite the circumstances, 'Stay Together' sounds like a fine, many-hued song, liberally doused with Bernard Butler's life-saving guitar, that is destined neither to win many new fans nor shock the devotees.

"It's about a sense of unrest I feel about the world," Brett tells me the following day, in an ill-advised shot at an explanation. "An attempt to make some sense when everything seems to be going slightly insane. I do get a real sense of impending doom, but not in a depressing way, not like we're all gonna die, let's go and rape people. I feel quite content with it. We're living under some shadow, and I'm not quite sure what it is. It's a bit like the fears I felt when I was growing up, when things were unstable and there was the threat of nuclear war, or the fear that your parents could die of aerosol poisoning."

Brett grew up, together with Suede drummer Mat Osman, in the soulless satellite town of Haywards Heath, between London and Brighton. According to Osman, if they'd been the tea party fops people make them out to be, they would've formed a grunge band. They only wanted to be really glamorous because of their stultifyingly dull working class backgrounds. Some might say that that would lead to the three-Es-a-night, dance-and-forget syndrome, rather than the formation of a glam rock band.

"Hopefully we're not a glam rock band," Brett shudders defensively. "You can escape those surroundings by taking a load of Es and ignoring it. Another way is to create your own myth, to try and become romantic in your own eyes, to create something beautiful out of the rubbish and the shit. It all sounds very Oscar Wilde, but that's the way we did it. None of us were brought up in workhouses, but we haven't had easy lives at all."

Suede claim to be obsessed with fame because they were excluded from it. Yet surely fame is the one classless thing people aren't born into?

"Lots of people are constantly privileged," says Brett, who has clearly spent an unhealthy amount of time pondering the abstract qualities of fame. "If you're born in Soho to rich professional parents, and you've got Jonathan Wotsisname coming round to your house every night to see your father, then you've got this world that you slip easily into. When you're excluded from it there's a desperation, you're desperate to have it. It doesn't come as second nature to you, like professionally famous people who hang out in Beverly Hills. It's not something you're comfortable with, but that mutates it into something far more interesting, a bit prickly and far more creative, because you're not just sitting there lapping it up."

Suede's appearance coincided not unfortunately with the post-Madchester 70s revival. But was their styling something more than just the result of being unable to afford new clothes? Personally, I had thought the emergence of Gary Numan had killed off the idea of anyone ever again wanting to be David Bowie (not to mention Bowie's recent records). Then along came Suede, with their rough guitars, their androgyny and their theatrical singer.

"I never thought of ourselves as '70s," Brett insists. "David Bowie is a genius, but the rest of all that rubbish I always found laughable. As for the clothes, I always thought we looked more 60s than 70s. It's all tied up with this whole kitsch thing, this Magpie and Porridge and rediscovering the culture of British music journalists' youths. Kids of 14 didn't know what anyone was talking about, it was just that the people in power had reached a certain age where they were getting sentimental about their youth and started remembering Magpie. That's all it was, all a complete load of rubbish. As soon as we were aware that this scene was going on, we wanted nothing to do with it."

Brett's voice is a highly variable instrument, perfect and beautiful on slow numbers like 'The Next Life', but occasionally, when he affects that archly operatic Bowie yodel, a whiney, sneering sound like Rik Mayall on speed boring into your brain – absolutely maddening. It goes without saying that his delivery owes much to the most overrated British pop star of the last decade, Morrissey.

"I forced my voice in that way because of how we were born, musically, playing shitholes. It was the only way I could make myself heard. I didn't want to sing in the murmuring way that was the style of the time. I wanted to project my voice, because I was writing songs that I wanted people to hear the words of. I wasn't just writing about fluffy little clouds, which is what everyone was doing at the time. People read into my intonations a theatrical seventiesness, but it was a complete accident."

Overworked as the subject is, it's hard to avoid asking why Brett thinks his androgyny caused such a fuss. It's not the first time it has been done; it's not even the tenth time. Genderless, mincing fops are to classic British pop what hairspray is to American rock, a staple ingredient. Brett, by comparison to most, is pretty tame.

"I don't know," he sighs. "We certainly weren't thinking 'oh let's be androgynous', it's just the way we are. I'm naturally quite an effeminate person – not all the time, I do play on things. I think it was because, at the time, people were so incredibly boring. We had been through five years of the cult of non-personality, and we never wanted to go with the flow. When everyone had their heads down, chugging away, we wanted to twist things a little bit. It's like at school, when you find that something annoys someone, you keep on doing it more and more. And that's what happened really."

A female psychologist wrote recently about the overt sexual expression of pre-pubertal girls at pop concerts, the way in which, amidst the non-contact hysteria of the pop experience, they could sometimes experience their first orgasm. She was, admittedly, talking about a Take That show, but I can't help wondering if it looks like that from the stage to Brett Anderson?

"No, nothing like that," he purrs, "nothing sexual. I always feel like people are putting it on."

Having their first fake orgasm?

"It's a bizarre thing in my head. I know they really like me, but I can't really take it seriously. When I'm onstage, and it's working, I feel like I can do absolutely anything. I feel as though there's no limit, even in the sense that I could fall asleep if I felt like it, because I'm that relaxed. I feel much more comfortable on stage than walking down the street. I could go off into a corner and do a crossword or shave my head. I feel ridiculously relaxed. I really enjoy the power of being onstage. It's to do with the circuit of the flow between the audience and you, when it's an audience willing you to be good. Your own power is an expression of how the audience is feeling, but I can't say I ever feel sexual, even if it looks that way. I think that to call the power purely sexual is to belittle it. When I've been to incredible gigs, it hasn't been a sexual thing, it has been something far more magical than that. "

Brett and Osman came to London in the mid 80s to study, respectively, architecture and politics at UCL and LSE. Suede began after they placed an ad in the NME in 1989, but initial concerts had audiences shouting "Fuck off!", critics calling them effete wankers and record companies running for the hills - a three-pronged invitation to eat shit and die that would have spelt the end for most bands.

"That X factor that made people despise us," muses Brett, "was something we managed to turn around in our favour. It's like being in love with someone, and exactly the same things you adore about them, completely horrify you when you've fallen out of love. We went away and learnt how to write songs, and came back transformed. And those qualities that originally pissed people off, we transformed into something provocative. I think the fact that we went through all that rubbish was a fucking good thing for us. People forget that the Beatles spent five years in Hamburg. No one would touch them in England, cos everyone thought they were an utter load of shit. They spent five years getting it together, suffering a bit and fighting for it."

A typical lyric from those hard years was Brett's line about "shitting paracetomol on the escalator". When they were recently described as chemically saturated, I had assumed more interesting chemicals were involved.

"That's about pure mundanity, being off your face every night and your staple diet coming from your bathroom cabinet. It's a metaphor for a humdrum life, going up and down the London underground, which I spent five years of my life doing."

In many ways this – Suede's poignant soundtracking of new depression Britain – is their strength. But if they are Her Majesty's equivalent of slackers, it hasn't made America any more amenable to their cause. Indeed, despite Brett's avowed loathing of the British character – "negativity, small-mindedness, lack of faith" – there may well be a Britishness about Suede which prevents America from getting the point.

Brett makes the mistake of quoting a Smiths song to me – something about innocence, fragility and trust – forcing me to point out that American audiences don't want to be trusted with something precious, they want to rock out with their cocks out. Evan Dando may wear a dress and pigtails, but the wider American market is notoriously unkeen on sexual ambiguity. Queen were big in America until the early 80s, when Freddie Mercury started appearing in full clone gear. They never toured America again, and didn't have a single hit until after his death (and then only thanks to Wayne's World). In fact, America's association of guitars and manliness make Suede fundamentally unsuited.

"No!" storms Brett. "I don't think we're fundamentally unmanly. All you have to do is come and watch us live. We're about sexuality, power and emotion, things that everybody feels."

Whether or not America is destined to fall for his Morrissey-meets-Larry Grayson stage persona, Brett's much-aired desire to move to America (and less well-known plan to live in Paris) has, for now, been replaced by a much smaller act of bedouinism.

"I've moved from Notting Hill to Highgate," he announces proudly, "from a fashionable place to a place where you're living in the last century pretty much. I was living in a very small flat in Notting Hill and it was driving me insane, I couldn't write and was being bombarded with nonsense all day long. I needed the peace and quiet, and now I have a bigger flat with a studio room in it and I'm writing quite prolifically. It's more serene, there's more space to think. It's quite a beautiful place, but you do feel like you're living in the last century, like you're some sort of oddity, or in a play. You keep going into these odd characters. But it's a great place."

In person, and despite the affectation of much of his thought processes, Brett Anderson is quite charming. An endearing smile – which seems to hibernate when cameras are around – plays constantly around his face, suggesting shared confidences which, to some extent, he delivers. Like so many people cocooned by over-protective minions, he is refreshingly open and approachable. I like him. But he is deeply shocked and incredulous when I paint a picture of the special treatment afforded him by those he works with.

"They treat me with the respect I deserve," he jokes defensively. "I don't have tea with Lenny Kravitz. My best friend works in a chip shop, and that's why I like it, it's a complete escape. One of the beautiful things about being successful is that it can rub off onto your friends as well. Not fame and all that bullshit – the really brilliant thing about being successful is the self-confidence, the sense of life having a purpose, that life is a wonderful thing. You open the shutters in the morning and the sunshine pours through. That sense of vitality about life can completely rub off on your friends. Sometimes it doesn't, it can go the other way, with friends ignoring you cos they think you don't have time for them, but that never happens with your proper friends."

And yet, engulfed in the sweltering perversity of his peer group, Brett has come to hold some pretty crap views, views that seem utterly irrelevant beyond the borders of saddo indie land. He worries about being thought a sell-out, thinks Suede are radically honest because they admit to having ambition – as if people didn't get over all that bollocks a decade ago – and, worst of all, that people don't talk enough about music in interviews. Oh dear!

But, despite all this, Brett's public image remains unshatterably cool. He exudes waves of sultry, sulky hipness. I feel an urge to know what naff items lurk in the corners of Chateau Anderson, his ownership of which will shock Suede devotees to the core. Brett tells me he's been to see Aladdin, listens to jazz music, likes The Orb and Verve and has just bought the new Shamen single. To prove it, he even does his Mr C impression - "Comin' on like a vibe, y'know!". This won't do at all.

"I like Terence Trent D'Arby," he admits, trying harder. "I think he's really good."

It's good, but it's not right.

"I bought Billy Joel's River Of Dreams album. I like that one."

Aha – as Inspector Clouseau used to say – now we are getting somewhere! What about films?

"No, I've got impeccable taste when it comes to films."

No feature length On The Buses video stashed chez Brett?

"No. I have got Crocodile Dundee."

Bingo and Bullseye! So much for impeccable taste.

"Well, my perennial favourite is Performance," he flusters wildly. "I can virtually quote the whole film from start to finish. And there's a brilliant film which I've just discovered called The Shout, with John Hurt, Alan Bates and Susanna York. It's about a man who has spent years in the Australian bush learning the secrets of the bush doctors coming to this ridiculously reserved Cornish village and turning two people's lives upside down. It's like an animal alive within this village, and when he shouts, everyone within a mile radius dies. If Alan Bates' part had been played by Vincent Price, it would've been laughable, but it's incredibly powerful, one of those great lost films."

It's a nice try, but nothing can erase the impression created by Billy Joel and Crocodile Dundee.

#suede #brett anderson #press #interview #sky #1993

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midnightiscoming-kasabian · 5 years ago

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Far Out Meets: Serge Pizzorno invites us inside the David Lynch inspired world of The S.L.P.

30/08/19

Serge Pizzorno is an enigma. He is the beating heart and the mind behind Kasabian, a band who have conquered just about everything there is to conquer in their career to date—including their incredible headline set on Glastonbury’s iconic Pyramid Stage which solidified their status as one of the most important British bands of the last twenty years.

It’s 15 years since their classic self-titled debut record stormed the charts and, while endearing the band to the public at the same time, they made the decision to take some time off last year. After six full-length records and no new plans in-store, what was to happen next was a mystery even for Pizzorno.

Not content to sit back and relax, the result of a prolonged period away from the band for Pizzorno was to get his head down and change direction as his new moniker of The S.L.P. was born. Pizzorno and his one man solo album, whose mesmerising self titled debut album is available today, spoke with Far Out to explain why now was the perfect time to try something different, what The S.L.P. means to him and the importance of artists like Slowthai—who features on the record—in a polarised Britain.

I pondered if this project was something that Pizzorno had been yearning to do for years, but that’s not the way that he works. The Kasabian guitarist, is a man who lives in the moment, as he explains nonchalantly: “We finished touring in September and had a year off so it was now or never really. I was like ‘I’ve got a year off, shit what am I gonna do?’ But I had these three pieces of music that I thought was the start of something quite interesting, I wanted to finish them but I just thought they’d hang around on a hard-drive for the next ten years so I thought, ‘I’ve only got to fill in the gaps between the beginning, middle and the end then I’ve got a nice little album.’”

Given the fact that Pizzorno was sat on the music for a considerable amount of time, I was interested to know if at any point he considered turning what would become The S.L.P.’s album into the next Kasabian record—a question he quickly shot down before I even finished uttering the words out of my mouth, almost predicting the question before I even asked it: “No, it’s a whole different thing,” he said passionately. “The reason why I still care about making stuff is that I just want output and I didn’t really overthink it, it was just the matter of getting in the studio and making this little record and then do something else after.”

Although this record isn’t a Kasabian record, I asked if this meant changing up the way that Pizzorno went about making it, which he shrugged off adding: “No,” he said amid a spit of laughter. “I work in a certain way, I worked in exactly the same way on this record as I have done on the last six. But, I’ve really enjoyed the freedom of just putting something out for the sake of it rather than it being this huge thing.”

“I think creating this S.L.P. world now means that it’s a world I’ve created that I can live whenever I want to, it’s this now and it’s something,” he added.

Two names which have stepped foot in Serge’s new world are the Mercury nominated pairing of Slowthai and Little Simz, both featuring on ‘Meanwhile…At The Welcome Break’ and lead single ‘Favourites‘ respectively. “I wanted this British connection and they are two people that I really admire, it’s that simple really,” he told me of their contribution. “There was a long-list of people that I wanted to get in the studio with and I think moving forward that’ll be the move.”

The more we discussed his recent collaborations, the more I sensed that working with these exciting new artists has re-energised Pizzorno and has made him fall back in love with making music for the fun of it, excitedly adding: “It’s well important when you’ve been doing it a long time and you get in your ways, it’s nice to just experiment and to go in the studio where anything can happen and be open to anything.”

A sincere Pizzorno continued: “I very much felt like I was on that cycle and on that way of going finish album, tour, come home, make album, tour. I’ve been doing that for nearly 15—no actually 20 years—at some-point there always needs to be a storm in the harbour, there needs to be some kind of re-set, some sorta like a storm that wipes everything out then you open the door and it’s calm again and you say: ‘ah, I see things differently now, I’ve been through something different and come back with a whole new perspective’ and that excites me for the next thing I do.”

Pizzorno will be taking The S.L.P. on the road for a limited run of dates and revealed to Far Out what his vision is for these very special nights, divulging: “We’re gonna try and do it differently. It’s all a bit of an experiment, we’ll just see what happens, it’s also a nice feeling to not be so wrapped up and to just put on a great night, entertain and have a great time. I’ve got this vision of this club at four in the morning which sort of anything goes where everybody is welcome, but also like a little David Lynch sort of film in some elements of it and I want it to put people on edge.”

Listening to Pizzorno vividly describe the way he wants to make fans feel pure escapism from the world, even if it’s just for one night only, sees our conversation turn to how important the concept of escapism is on a whole: “I think it’s vital ‘cos I think the danger as artists a lot of it is about escapism and your art becomes a way of escaping out of it which is massively needed and important for us all to lose ourselves. It’s also important to be aware of what’s going on and to represent a voice so it does get heard to a wide audience, voices that aren’t listened to or not cared about, that need artists to push that.”

Pizzorno then continued with the most heartfelt of passion in his voice: “For us to move forward in society, we need to listen to people’s stories human to human. There’s a reason they got where they got and it’s usually a past that’s given them that way of thinking so we have to figure out how to listen and come to some sort of agreement that we can all get on cos a fractured society is no fucking good for anybody.”

The fractured society we are living in, as Pizzorno referred to, is one that he can’t comprehend in the slightest. Like all conversations about music and society, our chat led me to ask about what his thoughts on former Smiths frontman Morrissey—a character making yet more controversial headlines given his very public political stances. “I don’t really understand that way of thinking like I find an odd way of thinking that we’re not just one,” Pizzorno said with his usual impassioned sentiment. “I’ve never really understood boundaries and flags, it just doesn’t make any sense when you look at the world and look at what we are, we’re humans. What the hell does any of it mean? Going down that line just seems like a very backwards step.”

Pizzorno and I spoke around the time that Boris Johnson was appointed as Prime Minister by just over 100,000 members of the Conservative party following an internal ruling leadership contest. With a renewed anger in his voice, Pizzorno said: “The system is rigged, it’s like a fucking Vegas casino, no matter who you put in charge it always ends up the same way.”

The conversation then turned to the politics of Kasabian with an animated Pizzorno stating: “The point of what we always wanted to do was to communicate with a large audience, communication and bringing people together. It’s all out of the rave scene and the massive guitar boom in the mid ’90s, we were born out of this. It’s about and always will be about bringing people together, that’s our politics.”

Kasabian have undoubtedly brought unity and Pizzorno has succeeded in his ambition of bringing as many people together under one roof with a common aim of having an evening never to forget. The S.L.P. may have seen him take a left-turn down a different path but the destination remains the same. The album will still leave you with that same euphoric feeling burning inside that you got 15 years ago when you first heard Kasabian’s debut. Serge Pizzorno is enjoying himself every bit as much as he was at the start of his journey all that time ago.

You can get your hands on a copy of The S.L.P. here and check out the tour dates below:

5TH SEPTEMBER – SWG3 GLASGOW, UK 6TH SEPTEMBER – ALBERT HALL MANCHESTER, UK 7TH SEPTEMBER – O2 INSTITUTE BIRMINGHAM, UK 9TH SEPTEMBER – EARTH LONDON, UK 10TH SEPTEMBER – EARTH LONDON, UK

faroutmagazine.co.uk

#kasabian #sergio pizzorno #the s.l.p.#interviews #interviews 2019

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jedwashere · 6 years ago

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A Billion Years Away - Chapter One

Empty In The Valley Of Your Heart.

***

It’s empty in the valley of your heart,

The sun, it rises slowly as you walk,

Away from all the fears and all the faults you’ve left behind.

***

Stardate 2507.03.22

U.S.S. Enterprise NCC 1701-I.

Whether deliberate or not on the part of several generations of Starfleet engineers, the Starships Enterprise almost all looked like ‘the’ Enterprise. There were design features that were common across the board: maybe not common to all ships, but there was always one of the key features present in every design. A saucer section, an elegant neck leading down into a sleek stardrive section, long nacelles swept back and extending out from the body of the ship. Oh, sure, a ship might miss out the long nacelles, or the swan neck might be shorter and more integrated, but there was never any mistaking the Enterprise when you saw her.

The U.S.S. Enterprise-I was the latest in that illustrious lineup of ships, and in many ways harked back to an older age. Starfleet, after a century of crises that had ranged from temporal manipulation to renewed hostility with Klingons to an invasion from outside the known universe (hadn’t that been a fun way to spend the 25th century?), had made a conscious effort (and not for the first time) to return to an age of exploration, hope, optimism. This was reflected in the classic lines of the I: her elegant swan neck leading from a round saucer to a cylindrical stardrive section, a glowing orange deflector array and thin, elegant pylons leading backwards to a pair of nacelles that were short, but stretched just far enough back to give the impression of length, movement, and speed.

This ship, Captain Alyn Jallistra had thought, when she first saw the Enterprise in drydock, was built for boldly going.

She had held onto that thought for the ten years she had commanded her, never letting it go. An unjoined Trill, Jallistra had always preferred the notion that life was short, to be lived, and then to be ended. Where all her colleagues and friends on Trill had been so eager to go and join with symbionts (or at least try to), she had been content to go to Earth, go through Starfleet Academy, and get her commission the old-fashioned way. Not that people still didn’t occasionally think she was a joined Trill.

It was an old irritant. Any time one of us is competent, or calm, or thoughtful, it’s never on our own merits, it’s because a symbiont’s doing it.

Still, she thought as she sat at her ready room desk, reading an old book. She had served as the Captain of this ship for a decade. Any old issues she might have had, she had long since gotten over.

The book was an older one, a prose adaptation of a holonovel: Captain Proton and the Dark Mirror. Written as an homage to science fiction books of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries by the late Tom Paris in the mid 25th century, it told of Captain Proton’s Encounter with an ‘evil universe’, and a gripping battle against dark forces.

It was all make-believe nonsense, of course. Real parallel universes, even the most extreme examples that Jallistra had read up on, were never so simplistic. Still, it was entertaining in its - what did they call it? ‘Campiness’?

Her computer beeped just as she reached a climactic moment where Proton had cornered his mirror self, the evil Captain Neutron (these names are ridiculous). Sighing, she marked her spot and put her PADD down, before tapping her computer's control panel.

“Authorisation Jallistra, Three Six Beta Upsilon,” she said with practiced ease.

A moment later, the image of a striking woman with brown eyes, greying hair, pale skin and the barest hint of a set of forehead ridges popped onto her screen, a soft smile upon her face.

“Captain Jallistra,” Admiral Kathryn Paris said evenly. “Good to see you,”

“Admiral Paris,” Jallistra replied evenly. “What can we do for you?”

“We’ve picked up something strange near your neck of the woods,” Paris replied. “It’s some kind of anomaly, originating in the Harlak system.”

“An anomaly?” Jallistra repeated. “What kind of anomaly?”

“We don’t know,” Paris replied quietly, “but it’s off the charts. You’re the nearest ship to the anomaly, so we’d like you to go take a look.”

Jallistra smiled. “Of course, Admiral. I’ll have us divert course immediately.”

“Good,” Paris said. She paused. “Be careful, Captain. If it turns out to be more than just a standard anomaly, I want you to pull out.”

Jallistra nodded. “I will take all the precautions I have to, ma’am.”

Paris smiled. “Good. Good luck, Captain. Paris out.”

Her image disappeared, to be replaced by the Federation’s symbol. After a moment, Jallistra let out a sigh, and tapped the intercom.

“Bridge, this is the Captain,” she said. “Please redirect our course to the Harlak system, warp six.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am,” the voice of Liam West, her alpha-shift Conn officer, said.

Well, there we go, Jallistra thought. Now we just have to see what happens next.

***

Erlös.

Lorca wasn’t used to comfortable beds, and so perhaps could be forgiven for making full use of it. He was lying down, the cover sprawled over his pyjama-clad body, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. The diffused light was brighter now, and he was forced to wince, but the light change was slower, so he accepted the pain.

He was lost in a flow of thoughts. One minute he was thinking of how he was going to pass off who he was - again - and the next he was remembering Michael Burnham, her eyes staring at him with…

… with what? Horror? Pity? Revulsion? All of the above?

I should never have gone back, the thought came, too quickly to be strangled in the crib. I should have stayed. Had medals pinned on me. Kept doing… what did they call it? Kept ‘boldly going’. Taken the hard jobs and won them for the Federation. I’d have been a damn legend.

And Burnham… Burnham with her gratitude, Burnham with her intellect, Burnham with that human heart that even a lifetime among Vulcans didn’t quell… she would have stayed with him. Been his officer. His protege. He’d have been able to leverage her commission, been able to win anything for her. In many ways, she was much easier than the Michael Burnham he had loved: his Michael had demanded an Empire, but all the Federation’s Burnham wanted was freedom, exploration, space.

All the things I love, Lorca thought. Or rather, all the things he had come to love. Perhaps it was the same thing.

There was a knock at his door, and before he could answer, a woman in more elaborate robes than Laurien’s entered the room. She was just as pale as Laurien, with white hair: despite this, however, she didn’t look a day over thirty. Lorca sat up.

“Captain Gabriel Lorca,” she said evenly. She looked around the room, before meeting his gaze. “I trust that the accommodation here has been sufficient for your needs. We have had few of your ilk here.”

Lorca gave another of his winning smiles. “Well, that bed’s certainly comfier than any starship billet I’ve ever been in. Any Starfleet Officer who doesn’t think that’s up to scratch probably needs a bit of a reality check.”

“I am glad,” the woman said. She smiled. “I am Eloise. I am the leader of the settlement here on Erlös.”

“Pleasure,” Lorca said. “I’m grateful you found me.”

“Perhaps you are,” Eloise said coyly. Before Lorca could ask what that meant, she continued. “Laurien reported that you say you command the starship Buran.”

“That’s right,” Lorca said, keeping his face neutral. Don’t give them an inch.

“Our people eschew technology,” Eloise said. “Dannik - did Laurien mention him?” At Lorca’s nod, Eloise continued. “Dannik is the one among us chosen to work with technology. I wanted to be sure of the details of who you are. And where you came from.”

Lorca found it was an effort not to frown, but he persisted. “Is there some confusion?”

“A little,” Eloise said. “When we found you, you had a stab wound that was quite severe, to the point where we had to have Dannik use our medical technologies on you.”

The way she said ‘technologies’ sounded like she was talking about magic. And yet she knew what Starfleet and the Federation was.

“You were also clad in clothing quite distinct from that which we are accustomed to Starfleet people wearing,” Eloise continued. “Much of it was burnt or otherwise damaged, but it was definitely not a Starfleet uniform.”

Not one you’d recognise, anyway, Lorca thought. Time to try out a story.

“That’s because it wasn’t one,” Lorca said grimly. “It was… it was the sort of attire my captors wore.”

“Your ‘captors’?” Eloise repeated.

“It’s… difficult to explain,” Lorca said. Gotta sell it, Gabe. “They were… it was…”

He shook his head, trying to give an impression of trauma. He’d certainly played that role before, thanks to his time playing Lorca of the Buran to Cornwell (damn her), Terral and just about anyone else.

“I understand,” Eloise said, apparently buying it. She smiled. “If you like, we can show you around while you’re waiting here for your people.”

Lorca nodded. “I’d be much obliged for a tour. Though, uh…” He motioned to his clothes. “Maybe if you’ve got a spare uniform lying around, I could swap into that? Walking around half naked doesn’t seem right to me.”

Eloise nodded. “Dannik will replicate a uniform appropriate to your rank, after he has sent the transmission. I will send Laurien with it shortly.”

“Thanks,” Lorca said, inclining his head. “I’m grateful.”

And despite himself, he was. These people had apparently patched him up: they didn’t have to, and if it had been his world, they wouldn’t have.

“And when we speak again,” Eloise continued, “we will speak of the means of your arrival.”

With that, she turned and exited the room, leaving Lorca to his thoughts.

‘Speak of the means of my arrival’, he mused. Be nice if I knew that myself.

***

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

#star trek discovery #fanfic #fan fiction #captain lorca #alternate universe #plot bunnies made me #not my fault lorca was awesome

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ohkimchanxing-blog · 7 years ago

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New Flame (Pt.1) - Xiumin

This is part one (1) to a short series. the other two parts will be the same type of plot but with Sehun and Lay (it wont be exactly the same so don’t worry). The request says for fluff but I kinda went light on that. Hope you enjoy!

***This story includes cheating so if you’re sensitive to that stuff then be cautious while reading

Warnings: Smut,car sex (don’t do this in real life kids),mild language, cheating,angst (?)

Requested By Anon: Hello, can I request Xiumin, Sehun and Lay smut and fluff scenario? He saw his ex after a few years (he is the one who break up because of his schedule or another reason) and stumbles upon her in a wedding shop, she is going to marry. They can't help letting the amorous feelings of those times resurface...Thanks 💕

M.List | To-Do List

It was a beautiful fall morning. You had your cup of pumpkin spice coffee and you were going to pick out your wedding dress today. It couldn’t possibly be a bad day.

You went to the wedding shop with your best friend, Isa. You walk in and are greeted by the inviting smell of fresh laundry and rain. The look of the building was fresh and clean with white dresses covering the walls and racks.

While you and Isa start sifting through the racks a woman comes up to help you find a dress.

“Here come to the front desk and we can fill out a form for the type of dress you’re looking for. Right now the main dress consultant is with another client but as soon as he’s done he will be right with you.”

You take the form that’s on a clipboard and go sit in a chair by the door. You guess these chairs are mainly for the fiancés who really don’t care about the dress their bride wears. You start by filling out the usual stuff like your name, address, and phone number. You continue filling out what you want with a dress. Long, sleek, sparkly, possible flowers.

Isa continues to interrupt you by shoving dresses into your space. Half of the time she showed you huge poofy things that looked like they were from the 80s. She showed you a few dresses that were somewhat to your taste but not exactly what you were looking for.

You hand the clipboard back to the woman. She is dressed in what looked like a pan suit but had a skirt. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a slick bun. Her makeup neatly done with dark colours for fall; she looked like she was well put together.

She smiles politely,”okay I’ll give this to him once he’s finished. Would you like me to show you some dresses while you wait?”

You really had no clue what you were doing, so you just said yes. Isa is still off fulfilling her fantasies while the woman looks at your chart.

You are looking through a specific cart filled with slim fit dresses when a woman, who you saw earlier looking through dresses, comes out of the

changing room. She has on a strapless sparkly dress. You see a man, who you assume is her fiancé,go up to her and say something. You don’t pay much attention to the couple; mostly because you have your own needs you need to attend to.

The woman goes back into the dressing room and the man starts to walk around. You see him as he turns the corner by your rack. He has black skinny jeans on, a red jacket with it’s hood up, and a mask. Anyone could see that he was an attractive man. In other words, the girl was lucky to have such a hot guy and a guy that even came to help pick her dress.

“Y/n?”

You tun your head towards the man and furrow your brows in confusion.”how do you know my name?”

“Y/n! It is you! What are you doing here?”

After he says that statement he removes his mask. The only thing you can do is stare at him like a deer in headlights.

It’s your ex. In a wedding shop. The same day that you are.

“ I’m getting married in a few months,” you blatantly say.

“Wow really! Time sure does fly. I remember when we first got together...”

He continues talking to you for quite some time.

You learn that he is indeed not there because he is getting married. He is there helping his sister pick out a dress.

The two of you got together after exo was on a variety show that you worked for. You dated for a few years, but he ended up dumping you because of his schedule with his growing popularity.

“So what have you been up to these days?” You ask as you take a huge bite from your sandwich.

“Nothing different from the usual. Variety shows, tours, comebacks, the olympics,” he quickly said the last one.

“What was the last one”

“Oh nothing just a performance.”

You knew what he said, but you were jealous of the success of the boys.

“Hey, you wanna come to my place and we can catch up a bit better?”

You agree and move from the outdoor patio space you were eating lunch at, to his car in the parking lot.

You get into the car and buckle your seatbelt. The all black interior looks exactly the same as when you last rode in it.

Traffic was light but the stuffiness in the car was making the ride feel like an eternity.

“Y/n... I have an idea,” he says as he places his hand on your upper thigh.” Are you up for it?”

You get the message right away and contemplate it for a while. You have a fiancé but then again... why not?

“Fuck it,” you whisper to yourself as you start to unbutton your black shorts. Untucking your white sleeveless shirt and pulling it up slightly to give him better access.

He starts to rub the skin just above your underwear. You remove your black shorts completely.Minseok has one hand on the wheel and the other slowly inching it’s way down to your panties.

He slides his fingers into your underwear and starts to slowly press over your nub. Not even batting an eye towards you as he continues. His gaze keeps straight on the road.

You slouch down into the chair to grant him better and easier access to your centre. You have your feet in the air while his hand starts cupping your entire heat.

His middle finger slides over your folds and eventually pushes in, making you whine. As his fingers work on your heat, and in your moaning state, you look over to see him gripping the wheel to the point his where his knuckles are starting to turn white. Then you look down and see him sporting a pretty big boner. Perfect.

You grab his wrist with one hand and with the other you start to rub his member through his pants. He shifts in his seat slightly and looks over at your state but returns his eyes to the road quickly after.

“ I- ngh... I see you’ve missed me,” you say through laboured breaths.

After those few words his entire aura changes. He slaps your hand away from his bulge and pushes his fingers into you even further.

He curls his fingers to hit your spot and you buck your hips into his hand. You scoot down further into the seat to give him better access as he violently pulls his fingers in and out. Before you know it he is hitting your spot directly on and thumbing at your clit.

That’s when it hits you. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train. The added pleasure making you moan and whine out as he continues to move his fingers inside of you.

Before you know it you are in the driveway of the dorm. The both of you rush inside and as soon as the door is closed he starts kissing you hard. This kiss wasn’t one of those sweet and passionate lip kisses. This kiss was a mess of teeth and tongue to try and dominate one another.

He pulls you to the floor along with him and takes his shirt off. At the same time you pull all of your clothes off. He starts sucking on your neck and collarbones as he unbuttons his pants and pulls them down only enough to get his cock out.

He stills as though he remembered something. He climbs to his feet and runs over to the kitchen a few feet away. He open one of the metal drawers and pulls out a sheet of condoms.

“So is this normal? Like do guys just keep condoms in their kitchen drawers,” you ask as you put your knees up to your chest and roll onto your side to look at him.

“Better safe than sorry,” he states bluntly. He rips one condom off the sheet and throws the others back into the drawer before closing it.

He walks back to you and rolls you over to your back. He takes ahold of your knees and spreads your legs to see your slick entrance.

He pulls himself out of the slat in his underwear as his mouth searches for your nipple. At the same time he rips open the small foil package and rolls the blue rubber over his length.

“Ah.. xiumin... please,” You whimper our as you start to already claw at his shoulders.

He briefly lifts his head up and says,” C-call me by my real name.”

“Mhm.”

Is all you can make out as he pounds into you. His head goes back to find the soft flesh of breast and starts sucking on your nub. Rolling in in between his teeth, licking it with his tongue, and biting softly at the skin.

He starts to slowly move in and out of your heat. He gradually picks up speed and sets your leg over his shoulder for leverage.

He starts to slightly arch his back in order to get deeper and more even thrusts. “ ahh fuck y/n.”

His lips move towards your neck to mark red spots that will later turn purple.

You pull his closer to you so your leg is pushed against your stomach now and his head was in the crook of your neck.

Thrusting into you at a fast and hard causes you to scream out his name repeatedly.

“Ngh.. sc-scream my name,” you start to chant his name over and over again. Making him thrust harder in you with each sound of his name crossing your lips.

You notice that the moans and groans coming from him were a telltale sign he was close.

You intertwine your band with the soft locks of hair on the back of his head. You pull slightly as you lick up the shell of his ear.

“Do- do that again,” he whispers through a mangled moan.

You pull slightly on his hair again and immediately his hips still, spilling his seed into the condom.

The both of you lay there for a few minutes trying to catch your breath. Your back is sore from the hard material of the floor and you can’t even imagine what his knees feel like.

He promptly staggers to his feet and tries the condom away in the bin next to the fridge in the kitchen. You on the other hand crawl your way to the grey couch. You lean against the armrest completely fucked out. He picks up yours and his clothes and throws them onto the coffee table.

You scoff at him,” what the hell is the point in doing that.”

As he sits down and wraps a hand around your waist he says matter-of-factly,” I’m cleaning.”

His next move takes you by surprise. He takes a blanket and wraps it around both of your chests. Then he wraps his other hand around you in an embrace that lasts a soils 10 minutes. Within those 10 minutes you just talk about life after the break up. One thing he said made your heart ache. It made your heart feel like it was the heaviest boulder on earth.

“At first I just wanted you to fuck me, and then I got greedy. I wanted you to love me. And I gave that up. I was an idiot and let you go”

After he says that, you have no clue what to do. So you don’t do anything. You sit there in silence until you phone’s ring harshly cuts through the still air.

You pick up you’re phone and put it on speaker without even thinking.

“Hey baby. Where are you and your friends right now? I just got off work. I’ll come pick you up.”

It was your fiancé. Fuck.

Before you can even react minseok pulls the phone from your grip sits up and speaks into the microphone.

“First of all, I’m not one of her girlfriends, I’m her ex boyfriend. And second of all she’s at my house and I just got done giving her the best pounding of her life.”

Your fiancé starts to say something but is abruptly cut off by minseok ending the call and turning off your phone.

You swat your phone away from his hand and start yelling,” what the fuck has he ever done to you!? Now how am I going to explain to my family that I’m probably not going to get married!?”

“You really wanna know what he took from me.” He says as he gets back into his position with his arms wrapped around you.

You look at him puzzled.

And he responds with...

“You.”

↵ Masterlist

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#exo #xiumin #Minseok #kim minseok #exom #Smut #exo smut #fluff #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #kpop smut

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johnmayersis · 8 years ago

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Forbes transcript for you, anon

For well over a decade now, John Mayer has been the biggest star with an acoustic guitar, slinging love songs that make millions sigh and work their way up the charts. After dabbling in Americana and country-tinged rock for a moment, the seven-time Grammy winner went back to where he first found success and began minting original pop-rock once again. The result was a series of releases, all of which hit the charts earlier this year. Two EPs—The Search For Everything Waves One and Two—were eventually compiled into a full-length with a few additional tracks, and all three items performed well. In fact, two of the three stalled in the runner-up spot on the Billboard 200, stopping just short of adding to the three No. 1 records the musician has already racked up.

It's been an interesting few years for Mayer, who has seen his name explode and become a powerful brand, only to have it taken down a peg by a number of interviews where he came close to wrecking everything he had built. Now he's back in the public's eye after retreating, and this time around, he's not looking for the spotlight or grandeur, but rather to write great songs and tour the world with his own tunes and as a member of Dead & Company.

Next up for Mayer is the second round of the Bud Light Dive Bar Tour, which was originally fronted last year by Lady Gaga. The pop star is returning in 2017, but this time around, the beer company has signed up new chart-toppers to keep the tour going instead of sticking with one singer, and Mayer will be performing at an undisclosed location in Los Angeles on July 26.

I spoke with the singer-songwriter recently about his touring efforts and what has changed in his career over the years.

Hugh McIntyre: Your new album took me back to the John Mayer I was introduced to originally.

John Mayer: Thank you.

McIntyre: How does it feel revisiting that style after going Americana/country for a little while?

Mayer: Really good question. And after doing Dead & Company.

It's like, you remove a flavor that you're used to, so that when you reintroduce it, you can enjoy it more. That really is what it is. It's like, I don't think people really understand all the demands of being a solo act with your name. You are your name, and your name is the product, and that's the music, and you are expected to answer questions about...not only do you have to think it and create it, but you have to represent it, and you have to represent it thoughtfully. That's sometimes the hardest thing to do.

I wish I said, "I don't know" a lot more when I was younger. When someone said, "So how is this record different," or, "How do you feel about this," or, "So-and-so said this about you. How do you…," I always had to pick this hyper, at least what I thought was this hyper-intelligent self-representation, and it just didn't work. What I've done now is I've removed myself from the center. It's such a good thing to do. People do it when they get older anyway, they take themselves out of the center. It becomes a less self-centric thing. I have more fun playing music, more opportunity, less time wasted worrying about whether I come off this way or that way. I look at myself as a participant in playing music rather than a force of nature. It was a stupid idea. By the way, when you're young, go for it.

I say, get famous, get successful, then get the therapy. Remove the weirdness that grew in all of the human growth hormone of fame and success, and carry on, you know? To know that I have realized all the things that didn't work, removed most of it from the equation, and now I just get to enjoy the benefit, and I know myself well enough to know what's going to be a slippery slope for me, or my ego, what am I going to get in over my head trying to win, and I don't play most of those games anymore, like masterminding things.

I have access to playing with the greatest musicians in the world. I can make whatever record I want next time. My thoughts and my ideas can become music or any item I want them to become. That's all I ever wanted. It took me a while to realize that's all I ever wanted. The idea of me as this center focus of thing, it didn't... I understand that's the way it looks from the outside and that's great, but I now stand to the side of it, and I know how to turn it on and off, which is great. Most people in my position at this age who've done it long enough learn how to do that. It's a bumpy ride, but you if you figure it out, it seems to make sense once you get where you're going.

McIntyre: Yeah. It sounds like you're not so worried about it now, but when you first went into that world, into the Grateful Dead world, were you at all nervous that long-time John Mayer fans might kinda scratch their heads and say, "I don't understand, I don't know this music, I don't know this John Mayer."

Mayer: None of that sounds bad to me.

McIntyre: Really?

Mayer: None of it sounds bad to me. Scratching your head is a really nice way to keep people on your mind, to keep yourself on people's minds, I should say. When someone's scratching their head, the last thing they've done is put you in their sort of, "Okay I get it" pile. Maybe I don't want to ever go in the "Okay I get it" pile. Even for myself, personally, but I think that I've engendered this understanding with my fans, at least some of them, that if I'm passionate enough about it, there must be some value in it, for other people to come follow.

And look, I mean, if my enthusiasm for this music can help in some way to carry this incredible music into the next generation, that's a fine day's work for me.

McIntyre: As I mentioned, the new album is the John Mayer I knew. How do you keep that style going while things like EDM rise and then fall, and hip-hop is now taking over the world in a way it never has before?

Mayer: Just be true to yourself, and realize that you're not gonna win those trophies anyway. You stick to the fundamentals. The worst crime you can commit is being inauthentic. I would even hate to win with an inauthentic record. That would be even worse. Cause then you gotta go around the world and like, do victory laps on stuff.

McIntyre: You don't want to go play Ultra?

Mayer: Yeah, I mean, I would go do that, if I found a place that I could.

Listen. When I see Travis Scott shows, and I see how those fans are just like firecrackers, I would love to know what that's like. But here's the thing. As you get older, and if you're doing it correctly, you realize that not everything you love you need to be making. So I know what's cool, quote unquote, I know what's popular, quote unquote, and I know where I fit into that and where I don't. At this point in my life I'd rather create what feels 100% authentic to me even if it flies a little bit lower on the pop radar, than to look around on the charts and say, "Get me the guy who made that record." Because I think it's one of the fastest ways to disappear.

I cut it close with the "Still Feel Like Your Man" video. But I wanted... I was like, videos are already weird, right? Like the concepts of videos are already weird, and I've never really done like a pop video. Even that felt a little funny. So, I don't know. I'm in between a couple different lanes, and I've gotta figure out how to have a good time, how not to go stale, but also be true to myself. That's a hard game to play.

I have more interests than I'm able to embody with the music that I make, and I think I've learned how to keep it separate. I make good John Mayer records. I make good John Mayer records. If I'm your "Sunday morning make breakfast" record, maybe I don't need to be your "Saturday night rage" record. Like, let me not be so greedy.

McIntyre: Alright, fair.

Mayer: I'm fine with "let me be your omelet" music. I'm cool with that.

McIntyre: You've got your tour, you've got Dead & Company and you're promoting this album. How are you going to do all this throughout the year? Sounds like a crazy year.

Mayer: One day at a time. Take care of yourself. Put yourself back in your hotel room earlier than you want to. Basically, rollover minutes. Rollover minutes. Take the two hours that you would have loved to have gone out tonight that would have turned into four, and would have stolen from the next day, and roll those two hours over. Go back in your room, light the candles, listen to music, go on your iPad, come in for a smooth landing. It's not as fun as going out, but you got stuff tomorrow.

I think about Michael Phelps a lot. Michael Phelps has to tell his friends very often that he can't go out, and his friends just have to remember that that's Michael Phelps. I tell myself I've got to spend a lot of time in the pool this year, so I can't necessarily go raging, so when you remember that what you're doing is sort of Olympian, at least in the effort of doing two bands over a year, you're like, you gotta treat yourself like you're an athlete, and athletes have to rest. Athletes have to go to bed early when they know they could go get recognized as an athlete and stay at the club all night. You're like "I get to be an athlete tomorrow."

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gillywulf · 8 years ago

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you’re a problem but you’re mine (you’re a winner even though you think you’re not)

The pet Hotel AU.

AO3

Summary: Jason needs a job and PetStay needed him.

Pt. 1

~~~

Jason knew that his dad was going to say something he wouldn’t like. The way he sat at the kitchen table and stewed in silence while his two kids sat over a coloring book and his wife looked over some paperwork she’d brought home from the office. He always took longer to speak when the whole family was there, not that it every actually stopped him from saying it. Jason had just taken hold of the red crayon when he opened his mouth.

“You’ve graduated high school-”

“Thanks”

“-but now- Jay, that wasn’t a congratulations. You’ve graduated and you’re not going to college. What are you going to do?” His mother sighed and pinched her nose.

“Sam-”

“No, I want to know. Jason, what do you plan to do?” Sam demanded, his voice filling the small kitchen. Jason handed the red crayon to his sister, only for her to reach across him for the pink.

“I don’t know. Get a job, I guess” he mumbled. He put down the red and scanned for a blue to fill in a section at her instruction.

“You guess? If you don’t have a job in the next two weeks you’re out of the house” His declaration was followed by a beat of silence where everyone looked to see if he was joking.

“Sam!”

“What? Dad!” Sam just shook his head.

“Two weeks” he confirmed, getting up from the table and disappearing upstairs. Jason barely noticed his mother chase after him to argue. He barely noticed his little sister gape at him pleadingly. He could only focus on the blue crayon and how he had no idea what he was going to do.

“Welcome aboard!” Jason was a little blown away by the excitement in his new manager’s voice. Alvie was shorter than most men and probably grinned more and wider than most Jason knew. However, he was PetStay’s Hotel manager and he was willingly offering Jason a job, so what did it matter how smoothly he pulled his electronic id card from his pocket while clearly focusing on their conversation?

“Yeah, thanks” Jason mumbled. The small man was already far ahead, explaining store policy and how the break room was configured. For a non-chain, they seemed to have everything down to a perfect system. Alvie could tell him where every mop in the store was and how long it would take him to clean up a dog’s elimination. It was actually impressive.

“Here we are!” the manager announced as they arrived at the desk that sat between two large glass rooms, “this is where all the pet parents will check in, for both doggy day care and boarding. You won’t really have to worry about that because that’s Kimberly’s job”

“It’s Kim” The correction startled both of them as a girl appeared from a small room tucked behind one of the glass front rooms. She was drop-dead gorgeous with shoulder-length hair and an expression on her face that made it clear how above the situation she was. Jason was breathless. “Billy’s started on dinner, please don’t mess up his system again”

“Oh, absolutely not, I really shouldn’t have dived in. We’ll just say ‘hi’” Kim shrugged and moved to stand at one of the front desk computers, already forgetting they existed. Alvie didn’t waste any time either, already punching a series of numbers into the code-locked door behind the front desk. “Kimber- er, Kim is very good at her job. She has a 75% add-on addition rate with new pet parents. But don’t let her nice-girl persona fool you. She’s constantly breaking rules with Trini in the back”

Jason had no idea who Trini was, so he just nodded and listened as Alvie explained about always using the air-lock doors correctly. The doors dropped them into a hallway with a room of kennels on each end and they turned right before Alvie tugged Jason into a small kitchen where a boy was studiously scooping dog food from a container underneath the table.

“Hey Billy, this is Jason, he’s joining the team!” the manager introduced excitedly. For a long moment, Billy didn’t acknowledge the statement. His focus was on making sure the cup of food was a cup of food, no more no less. He picked off a pellet and dropped it back into the container before grinning at the two new arrivals.

“Hi, Jason! It’s nice to meet you. We really do need help around here. Whenever Trini and Zack are in camp that leaves just Kim and I do to nail grinds and baths but neither of us like doing those, so they almost never get done on time, so we could really use someone who doesn’t mind being wet with the dogs” Overwhelmed by the sheer number of words coming at him, Jason nodded.

“Yeah that’s...okay. It’s great to meet you, Billy” The boy gave him one last radiant smile before going back to his work. There were at least thirty dog bowls in front of him, some were paper fast food trays and others hefty metal, clearly meant to last. Only five of them had anything in them. Alvie tugged Jason’s sleeve again.

“You’ll learn about meal-times when you actually start, but here” he extended his arm to reference the massive room, “is where the boarding dogs stay. Anyone who stays overnight is on this side” The tour continued to the other side of the hallway where Alvie pointed out the bathroom, the employee lockers, and the grooming room in quick succession until they entered a smaller room of kennels.

“These are the day campers. All of them will leave by closing and over here-” he turned left and they were met with four pairs of large eyes staring at them, barely able to clear the top of the low wall, “-is Bigs day camp. And that’s Zack!” Alvie pointed inside the enclosure to the Asian boy who had a definitely too large dog clutched in his arms. “Please put Bently down”

“He challenged me, as the alpha, I had to respond” Zack shrugged and the Mastiff (Jason had no clue about breeds, who was he kidding?) seemed to peer at them in resignation.

“He didn’t- oh my god, put him down” Zack complied, but only after a massively exaggerated eye roll. The dog plodded off for a drink of water, unbothered. The boy waded through the cluster of big dogs all watching the new arrivals expectantly.

“Hey man, I’m Zack. I’m usually in Bigs. Crazy Girl is so small she’d probably get eaten” he laughed.

“I’m Jason”

“Great to meet you dude. I’d shake your hand but-” he gestured to the bars between them that kept the big dogs from jumping from the enclosure.

“Yeah, I get it” Jason waved him off in understanding as Alvie directed him to the farther of two glass doors a few feet away.

“Don’t let Crazy Girl scare you, Sugar’s in today!” Zack laughed as they disappeared into the cramped space.

“Ignore him,” Alvie muttered, “this is Smalls and that’s Trini” on the other side of the door was another playroom with tiny and mid-size dogs running around, napping or happily chewing on a toy, all while barely coming up to the knee of the small girl who stood grumpily against the wall. At her feet, a tiny dog with black and white hair longer than it’s legs barked constantly at her with it’s high pitched voice.

“I guess that’s Sugar” Jason mumbled. Alvie nodded.

“Most of us love Sugar, but I guess when you’re dealing with that for six hours a day, it’s understandable that she’s grumpy, whatever Zack says. Anyway, all small dogs will go here, along with some big dogs like Bard-” he pointed to a greyhound casually strolling around the room, “-who will freak out if they’re with the big buys” Jason nodded, drawing Trini’s attention to the door. He offered an awkward half-wave only for her to turn back to the irritating dog with a deeper scowl.

So those were his new co-workers.

Seven in the morning was way too early to be up and dealing with other people’s pets but that was what time he was scheduled and Jason wasn’t going to call out of his first day. Or complain. Because that would just give everyone the wrong impression of him. He wasn’t afraid of hard work, he just didn’t want to do it quite so early.

Kimberly was already at the front computer when he walked in, her navy blue polo looking better on her than it ever could on anyone else. She barely spared him a glance before she spoke.

“Follow me” she demanded, punching in the door code.

“Yeah okay” Jason jumped into the midway room before it slammed shut in between them.

“You will always need three things on you at all times; a pen, a lead, and a walkie. Each walkie is color coded and there’s a list of who has which walkie next to the charging station in the kitchen,” she pulled open the second door and stalked off towards said kitchen. Jason made sure to stay on her heels, both because she was talking kind of quietly and walking fast.

“I’ve got a pen”

“Leads are in the midway room,” the kitchen was empty of food bowls or Billy’s as Jason had last seen it. Kim marched over to the bin of walkies and pointed to a small laminated chart with various dots of color and spaces for a name next to each. Beside pink was Kim’s name, and Zack next to black. “I’m always pink, Trini is yellow, Billy is blue, and Zack is black. Tommy Jr, the overnighter, is usually green, but since he’s not here during the day you can use it if you want. Red and gold are also available” Careful to avoided one of the chosen colors, Jason grabbed one at random.

“I guess I’m red then”

“Great,” Kim took the walkie from his hand and clipped it into the neck v of his uniform polo, “sign off for it” She ducked under the computer in the corner and grabbed a stack of the paper fast food trays, dumping them on the table as two more people entered the room. The girl, Trini, never looked at him as she went directly to Kim and wrapped her arms around her waist and pressed her face in to her back. Kim never even paused.

“Good morning Jason” Billy grinned in the doorway, somehow very awake and even eager to be there.

“Hey Billy” Jason twisted the top of the walkie to ‘on’ as he smiled back.

“Okay,” Kim dropped a stack of metal bowls beside the paper ones and placed her hands on Trini’s at her stomach, “Jason, Billy’s going to teach you how to do breakfasts, just an overview so that you’re a little prepared for lunch later and then you’ll do some Individuals with Trini. Individuals are boarding dogs that can’t be in day camp, whether for medical or behavioral reasons usually. Got it?” Jason nodded. “Awesome. C’mon babe, you’re at work now, we can do this later” The front desk manager carefully dragged the girl clinging to her out of the room.

“Alright, let’s get started!” Billy clapped his hands together, rocking back on his heels, and then dove towards the computer, pressing keys until a long strip of white labels protruded from the tiny printer nearby. He dove in just as eagerly to his explanation, all the while pulling out measuring scoops and pulling the bins of food under the table slightly closer.

His words came too much, too fast and Jason could barely follow, but he loved it. Billy’s face was lit with a passionate kind of excitement that most people in this job would never have, hell, he was sure he’d never be that excited to feed a whole bunch of other people’s dogs. However, as it didn’t involve too many moving parts, the explanation finished quickly,

“Thank you, Billy. Do you like working here?” Jason asked, shuffling a small cat-sized bowl off to the side where Billy had put the others.

“Oh yeah! My mom’s allergic to both cats and dogs so it’s really great to hang with them all day. Also, Zack, Kim, and Trini are all super great and we go out to Krispy Kreme a lot. And no one’s mean about the fact that I’m on the spectrum so, yeah, I really do like it” He flashed Jason a grin. “I’m done now, so you should go do Individuals with Trini” Jason blinked in surprise.

“Oh, yeah okay. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“See you later, Jason!” Feeling more awake and optimistic than he had entering PetStay, he left the kitchen in search of Trini. Through the massive windows leading to the front desk, he could only see Kim highlighting charts. The small girl who’d buried her face between shoulder blades was no where to be found.

“Hey, new kid” Jason whirled around and found another playroom in the far corner of the boarding room. Trini stuck her hand through the bars to grab his attention. “We’re in here” He briefly wondered who ‘we’ was, but he’d see soon.

He went through the two doors (there were so many, at what point was overkill?) and was immediately tackled against the wall by 65 pounds of excited dog. The dog was tan with large brown spots and the sweetest face. Jason wasted no time in scratching him behind the ears.

“Mason, down. Cute huh?” Trini pat the dog’s side once he trotted over to her.

“Yeah, why is he Individual?”

“He wants to rip the face off of every dog he meets”

“Oh, okay that makes sense”

“Tommy’s apparently been working with his parents on that but,” she shook her head and Jason noticed for the first time the braids on the side of her head, “I don’t have much faith in that. You’ll see him in a minute” Mason took his time in sniffing around the room. Then, only once he’d found a spot that smelled just so, he dropped into a squat. “Big boy’s a three” she mumbled, pushing off from the wall towards the other corner where a mop, two buckets, and a scoop lay waiting. Mason was back in Jason’s arms.

“What does that mean?” he asked, trying get the excited dog back down to four feet.

“Three. Ya know, like, number one and number two? It’s just both” she shrugged as she scooped the poop up and dropped it into one of the buckets. “You write it on the day camp charts too. Zack will show you. Or not, he’s an idiot”

“Oh” They descended into silence. Mason was perfectly happy to go between them for affection or occasionally attack the ball or the playset against the wall. A pop song he’d definitely heard maybe once before played quietly through the speakers and the image of Trini clinging to Kim’s back and the taller girl calling her ‘babe’ would not leave his head. “Can I ask you something?”

“Maybe” she answered without hesitation. He paused. Was that just a no that she didn’t want to say? Her eye roll answered that. “Yeah, ask”

“Are you and Kim dating?” Trini’s whole body shuddered.

“No” Her jaw tightened and there was definitely more to it than ‘no’.

“Oh, okay, it’s just- it looked-”

“Stop while you’re ahead, homeboy”

“Got it”

So. Keeping track of 18 big dogs for seven hours a day was harder than Jason thought. And far more exhausting. There were behaviors he had to prevent and stop altogether as well as keeping track of who went to the bathroom and what they did. Zack was helpful, but his attention was so scattered and his disposition so wild that Jason wasn’t sure he trusted Zack not to fight with a dog.

It was a new feeling to have.

Dead on his feet and ready for a massive dinner, he dragged himself to the front employee room to clock out. Zack grabbed his shoulder halfway there.

“Hey man, you want to celebrate your first day at Krispy Kreme?” he offered. Zack’s already disheveled hair looked downright messy after the dogs had their way with it. Molly alone, a young lab, could have been the cause with how much she loved licking ears.

“Sure, if you want to pay. I haven’t got paycheck yet” Zack slung his arm over his shoulder.

“Yeah, pastries on me!” Thankfully, Krispy Kreme was only on the other side of the shopping complex from PetStay, so the walk was mercifully short, especially with the summer heat beginning to set in.

Zack spent the whole walk babbling about the dogs, the ones he loved, the ones he hated, and the ones that were plain odd, like Nero, a wall-eyed and pigeon-toed chocolate lab that never stopped smiling. Apparently he’d slammed a Boston terrier so hard that the smaller dog could only be Individual from that point on.

Trini had apparently pissed herself laughing.

And then promptly helped Kim take the terrier to the vet.

Jason liked the expressive way Zack talked. He used his whole body to tell a story, his hands, his shoulders, his face and his voice. He was so excited to talk about the dogs and the friends he’d made tending to them, just like Billy. It gave Jason hope that he might one day be the same.

The doughnut shop was thankfully not busy as the two of them ordered. As promised, Zack slid a few bucks across the counter to cover both doughnuts and coffees. Jason privately wondered if Zack needed more caffeine with his ingrained energy, but he didn’t know him well enough to judge.

“So what are you doing at PetStay man? You don’t look like you should work there” Zack asked as they slid into a booth. Jason shrugged.

“I did something stupid, lost any chance at college, and found myself in immediate need of a job” He kept his eyes down and took a sip to cover his embarrassed cheeks. Normally he wouldn’t be ashamed, but when he said it like that, it sounded a little pathetic.

“Oh that’s cool, I didn’t even graduate high school. Maybe you’ll get there. I’m here because I wanted a pet dog and this is a lot cheaper,” he grinned sharply and Jason laughed at the joke, “also my mom is sick and we’ve gotta find a way to pay for meds on top of you know, everything else. Trini’s been a great help on her days off. My mom likes her more than me probably” Jason frowned.

“Really? She seems kinda...”

“Oh, she’s absolutely mean as hell. But once you get past the rough exterior, she’s all mush. Just catch her with Kim or Billy. She loves them. And her kid brothers” They paused to take identical too-large bites of their doughnuts. They caught sight of the other with bits hanging out of their mouth and burst into laughter, careful not to choke on what they hadn’t swallowed (well, maybe only in Jason’s case).

“Can I ask you something?” Jason began after a long sip and a calming breath. Zack nodded and shoved the rest of his doughnut into his mouth. “what’s up with Kim and Trini? I mean, Trini said they weren’t dating but, I don’t know” Zack nodded along and brushed his hands free of crumbs before speaking.

“Yeah, they’re not dating, but they are going to be”

“How do you know that?” That seemed to be a very hard thing to know with such certainty.

“They told me. Not at the same time, though. Trini was little drunk and Kim was just getting done with the literal worst day someone could have that Trini helped pick her up from. Trini could be ready at the drop of a hat if it weren’t for the fact that she’s scared what her parents would think since they’ve definitely said some shitty stuff about her questionable sexuality”

“They don’t like it?” Zack shook his head.

“Nah, every time I’m over, they ask if we’re dating yet. It’s why she’s at mine a lot. I think Kim is scared by the inevitability of it all. From the moment they met, there’s been this crazy connection that you’d have to be oblivious to miss. Billy may have trouble with social stuff, but even he got that right away. She said something like, she’s scared by the fact that she knows she’s not going to ever want someone after Trini. We have a store pool on when they get their shit together, you want in?” he asked, downing the last of his coffee.

“How long have they known each other?” Jason narrowed his eyes.

“This has been going on for three years”

“Oh, okay, fuck no”

“Red, you nearly done that bath?” Jason shook his feet in a poor attempt to make them dry faster. He sent Winnie the Newfoundland a withering glare.

“Are you happy?” He sighed and punched the talk button on his walkie. “Yes pink, just getting her into the drier. Do you need something?”

“Yeah, you’ve got some safety videos to watch. The answers to the multiple choice questions are already written down, so it shouldn’t take long”

“Great, I’ll be there in a sec” Winnie was hardly cooperative, but eventually Jason maneuvered her into a kennel dryer with the hope that she could be ready to go sometime in the next four hours. Up front, Kim was typing away at her computer and scribbling names and room numbers onto ID bands. She didn’t turn at the sound of the door opening and closing behind her.

“Just put log in and take the quiz listed at the top. The answer key is-” she froze. “Fuck” Kim rarely looked so affected. Jason immediately felt his heart jump into his throat with worry.

“Kim? are you okay?” She ignored him and marched over to the window where Smalls was easily in view. Most of the small dogs had found a comfortable place to nap and calm down while a few small puppies rolled around with each other, nipping at heels and necks. The main point of interest however, was Trini, sunk to the floor with her back tot he wall and her head fallen into her arms. A black Maltese pawed continuously at her forearms.

“Fuck,” she raised her walkie, “Yellow babe, can you stand? Just a minute please. Blue, do you mind going into smalls to give yellow a break?” They watched Trini raise a thumbs up while they waited for Billy to radio in.

“Yeah! Is it country music time?”

“Yes it is. You’re a saint”

“That’s very nice of you Kim, thank you” They watched as the door to the relief room opened and closed, and the door to Smalls did the same, allowing Billy into the room and waking all of the dogs. They swarmed him like insects to a fruit left unattended in the middle of summer and Trini wasted no time in handing off the squirt bottle, offering him her most sincere thanks, and sneaking out of the room. Kim sighed in relief.

“She likes metal and despises country music. But between that and silence, she’ll choose the music. So she’ll sit there dying. Thankfully Billy loves country, so we stick him in for country music power hour” she explained, heading towards the midway room.

“Does this happen a lot?” Jason watched the dogs jump as high up as they could (never above Billy’s knees) to try and lick their new supervisor’s face.

“Country music power hour is every day at 1. I’m going to go talk to her” Kim wasted no time in punching in the door code and slipping through. Jason shook his head, turning slowly back to the computer quiz with a warm feeling in his chest. It felt like the beginnings of fondness. It took less than five minutes to log in and click the correct answers and no brain-power at all, so he went to the back rooms in an attempt to find Kim and ask what she wanted him to do next.

He found her by the employee lockers, her back to him. He opened his mouth to speak but froze. She wasn’t alone. There, crowded between Kim’s body and the side of the lockers was Trini. Kim’s hands rested over her jawline, her thumbs moving slowly over Trini’s hairline, and the full length of their bodies were clearly pressed together. Kim’s nose traced slow, delicate lines across Trini’s face, and the small girl was the most relaxed Jason had ever seen her. The phone in Kim’s back pocket played a slow soft song that clearly meant something to the both of them with the way they swayed so gently back and forth that it almost looked like they weren’t moving at all.

It was like a scene from a dramatic romance movie.

He wasn’t meant to see this.

Jason careful backed away and decided to do a water check. Those were always necessary and needed. As he worked, he felt the feeling in his chest grow. The beginnings of fondness were clearly out the window.

#power rangers #fanfiction #mine

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itskimtaehyung · 8 years ago

Text

PROM

gif cr: @qweentae

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader, Taehyung x Reader

Summary: You’ve been dreaming about prom your whole life. When that day finally comes, you have the perfect venue, the perfect theme, the perfect dress, and the perfect date. But when your boyfriend, Yoongi, can’t go with you, he sends his friend Taehyung instead and things get kind of weird...

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 9.5k

Content: This is pretty PG-13 so there’s not much to warn you about. A little bit of swearing but that's pretty much it.

A/N: This was originally supposed to be a Tae fic but it ended up having a lot of Yoongi. Turns out I don’t know how to write a non-Yoongi fic lmao. I’m telling you now this fic takes place in May 2015 (the year I went to prom) but most of the songs are ones that came out after that so don’t yell at me for the inaccuracies. Also shout out to @qweentae and @jungkookbunbun for helping me through my writer’s block and helping me choose the right words

Playlist of the songs mentioned (which I highly recommend you check out to get the full experience)

Sneak Peak:

Tae...

It may be just a minor infatuation, but you don't love him.

Not the way you love Yoongi.

You will never love him the way you love Yoongi.

You stormed into the shop excitedly, with your boyfriend in tow, knowing exactly what you wanted. You had been eyeing a specific black sequin gown for weeks, ogling at it every time you passed by the shop on your way to school. It was floor-length, with an open back, and flowed down the mannequin like a cascading sparkly black waterfall, hugging all the right places. And in your favor, this gown just happened to have a matching black sequin tuxedo jacket.

“Yoongi! Look at it! Isn’t it perfect?” You squealed, pulling on his hand and jumping up and down in excitement. “We have to get them!”

The store clerk eyed the two of you suspiciously. “You two do know how much it costs, right?” She sneered.

You looked at the price tag dangling off the garment and gasped. “Oh,” was all you could say. The sparkly piece of fabric costed more than you made in three months as a part time math tutor. Why didn’t I check the price before getting my hopes up? You thought.

You were about to leave the shop, when Yoongi took the tag from you and gave it a glance before saying, “Don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll take care of it.”

“What?” Your eyes widened. “No, that’s too much! I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You really want it don’t you?” You gave a small nod. “Then I’ll pay for it. Agust D has been doing really well on the charts lately, so Big Hit gave me a bonus that would just about cover it.”

“Still, Yoongi. It’s too much! I could never ask you to spend that kind of money on me. No matter how rich and famous you get.” You said that last part a bit teasingly.

“Are you two going to buy something or not.” The sales clerk pestered.

“Yes.” Yoongi replied before you could protest. “We’ll take the dress and the jacket. We’d also like to get the rest of the suit along with it.”

“Great.” The clerk smiled for the first time since you and Yoongi arrived, but you could tell that it was insincere. “I will have to get your measurements and tailor the garments accordingly. Custom tailoring is included in the price on the label.”

“Even better,” Yoongi responded. “Let’s get to it then.”

You and Yoongi had known each other practically forever, as your moms were best friends from high school. Every time your moms would get together for brunch or tea, you and Yoongi would stick together and let the adults have their fun. Yoongi was four years older, but that didn’t prevent the two of you from getting along. When you were younger, the age gap between you and him seemed quite drastic, but slowly diminished as you got older.

Over the years, you had had your fair share of suitors, none of which could make you smile as much or laugh as hard as Yoongi did. Yoongi also had a few girlfriends here and there, but his face never quite lit up as much when looking at them as it did with you. Since you were still young and he was nearing adulthood, neither of you ever tried to make any romantic advances. You would go through most of high school single, with the occasional douchebag that would break your heart only for a moment, before Yoongi would swoop in with platonic cuddles and cozy movie nights that made you forget all about them, just as best friends should do. And Yoongi would go through most of college also single, with the occasional sorority girl that would leave him the second a taller, hotter frat boy came along, before his music career picked up and he dropped out of school all together.

You had told him that he was so close to finishing his degree that he should just stay and get his diploma before going off and touring the country. But really you wanted him to stay with you for as long as he could before leaving and possibly not coming back. You had told him it’s best to have a backup plan in case the music didn’t work out. You had told him that he should take a bit more of a pragmatic approach to all of this. What you hadn’t told him was that you loved him more than anyone else and didn’t want him to leave you so soon.

He had told you that he just finished his first mixtape and that one of the producers at Big Hit Entertainment really liked it. He had told you that if he finished school and got his diploma, by that time the producer might have found a better, more available rapper to take his place. He had told you that this was a once in a lifetime chance and if he didn’t take it now he might never get an opportunity like this again. He had told you, right before he left for his first tour to promote his mixtape, Agust D, and a few days after you celebrated your 18th birthday, that he loved you.

“I love you, too.” You had said, not fully grasping the meaning behind his words, thinking he meant it completely platonically like you two had been saying to each other for years.

“No, Y/N. I love you.” He looked at you with an intensity like you had never seen as he cupped both your cheeks in his hands and pulled you closer, placing his lips on yours for the first time. It was a sudden gesture but it was soft and gentle, and the kiss was over before you were ready. “I always have,” he sighed as he pulled back.

“Why are you telling me this now? Now that you’re leaving?” You hoped the look on your face would convey that fact that you didn’t want him to let go.

“You know why.” He replied, his eyes never leaving yours. “Now you’re old enough, and now things are finally going right for me. And now, now that I’m leaving, because I don’t think I could go without letting you know how I feel.”

“I love you, too,” you repeated, deepening your gaze, hoping he would see exactly how strongly you felt these words. You stood on your tiptoes and kissed him back with the ardor you had felt but could never show until this moment.

The two of you spent that night at Yoongi’s place, tangled in each other’s limbs and hoping that somehow the sun would refuse to rise, allowing you to stay together for just a little bit longer.

The sun, however, did not oblige, and with the light of the next day he left for two months, touring the country and doing shows to promote his name and his mixtape. He met countless producers that tried to steal him away from Big Hit, and countless girls that tried to steal him away from you. But he was faithful, both to the company that gave him a chance, and the girl that gave him her heart.

When he returned, you greeted him with open arms and a wide smile. He told you about all his adventures on the road and all the amazing people he met. You told him about all your boring days at school and all the tedious assignments you were given. He told you about how much he missed you and wished you had been beside him. You told him about how you had been busying yourself with prom preparations to distract yourself from missing him too.

Yoongi’s time back felt more like a short visit, for he was all too soon whisked away to the capital to discuss the business side of his contract. And so, while he was off discussing budgets and numbers with accountants and business execs in Seoul, you were here discussing budgets and numbers with venues and caterers back home.

You had dreamed about your prom your entire life. Dressed up in your nicest dress, arriving in a stretch limo, escorted by your prince charming. You only had one prom, so you wanted to make it perfect. So much so that you joined prom committee and started pitching ideas months in advance. You knew you wanted an Old Hollywood red carpet theme and would do anything to make it happen. You and Yoongi had your outfits ready since January, even though the dance wasn’t until the end May. You were beyond excited and couldn’t wait to spend the magical night with him.

You had just gotten off the phone with the people at the venue about the final touches and preparation for the dance that was merely a week away when your best friend, Jina, walked into the student activities office.

“Hey, Y/N, I need you to look over the permission slips one last time before I distribute them.” She handed you a stack of papers. Since this was a school function taking place outside of school hours, students were required to submit a signed permission slip before purchasing a ticket to the dance.

You scanned the document for any mistakes.

In the case that the student is under 18 years of age, I, the parent/guardian of [print student’s name] grant permission for said student to attend this school function. I understand that this event takes place outside of school hours and off of school grounds. I understand that the school is not responsible for transportation to or from the event.

It looked good so far.

Each student is allowed to bring one guest that does not attend the school. ID of the guest must be presented at the time of ticket purchase. Guest must be 21 years of age or younger.

Wait.

“Uhhh, Jina? Why does it say that the guest has to be under 21?”

“Principal Kim’s orders.”

“But I’m supposed to go with Yoongi!” He had just turned 22 back in March. “If I’m over 18, why should it matter?”

“If you have a problem with it, you should talk to Principal Kim about it.”

“Okay, I will!” You stormed out of the office.

You marched into Principal Kim’s office with the permission slips in hand, but not before greeting his secretary. If you wanted something, you couldn’t afford to be rude, no matter how angry you were.

“Principal Kim?” You poked your head in the doorway. He was on the phone and held his hand up towards you signaling you to wait. When he hung up, he motioned for you to enter his office.

“What can I do for you, Y/N?”

“Principal Kim-”

“Now, Y/N. I have told you many times that you can call me Jin. I’m not like most principals, you know; I’m a cool principal.”

“I know, and I have told you many times that I respect you too much to strip you of your title and will continue to call you my principal.”

“Very well. So what brings you to my office?”

“I was looking over the permission slip for prom and it said that my guest has to be no older than 21?”

“Yes, that’s correct”

“Why? If I’m over 18 why does it matter?” You complained.

“Some of the students haven’t turned 18 yet and these rules have to be inclusive of everyone.”

“Can’t you just bend the rules a little for me?” You put on your best pouty face. “My boyfriend just turned 22 a couple of months ago so he just missed the age limit by a little bit. Plus I’m your star student. Shouldn’t that count for something?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but I can’t bend the rules just for you. You’re going to have to find another date or just go with your friends.”

“But all my friends have dates!” You realized how immature you were being and stopped yourself before you threw a tantrum. “I understand, Principal Kim, and I respect your decision. Thank you for taking the time to see me.”

“Any time, Y/N. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of any help.”

“Sorry my ass,” you mumbled saltily to yourself on your way out.

“So I can’t go?” Yoongi asked. You were sitting across from him in an arm chair while he sat on the couch in his living room.

“No. the school won’t allow it. Why couldn’t you have been born two months later?”

“Because I think that would have killed my mother.” He chuckled.

“Not funny. What am I going to do? We’ve been planning this all year!” You made no effort in hiding your frustration. As silly as it may seem, you were about ready to cry because your perfect night was not going as you planned.

At that moment Yoongi’s housemate, Tae, walked in, having just taken a bite of the steamed bun in his hand.

Yoongi looked over at him. “Why don’t you take Taehyung?” The boy stopped in his tracks upon hearing his name.

“What?” Tae said, mouth full of bun.

“Tae. You’re taking Y/N to her prom.” It wasn’t a question, but an order.

“Uhhh okay sure,” he still hadn’t swallowed., so it came out more as, “Mmmmm mmkkmm frrrr.” He then left the room, eyes wide, without questioning or protesting.

You had known Tae only half as long as you had known Yoongi. The two boys became friends in middle school, when Yoongi was in eighth grade and Tae was in sixth. Yoongi said he met the younger boy during lunchtime, when Tae was sitting by himself in the cafeteria. Taehyung was an adorable little thing, much smaller and a lot shyer than the other kids. He never did talk much when surrounded by strangers, and often ate lunch by himself. Yoongi felt bad for him and thought he could use a friend, so one day he joined him for lunch. It took a while for Tae to warm up to Yoongi, but Tae has been his best friend, and by extension yours, ever since.

You remember the first time Yoongi brought Tae over to play video games. He wouldn’t look at you most of the time and would only talk to Yoongi. Although he was small for his age, he was still two years older than you and therefore seemed much bigger and slightly intimidating. You tried to give yourself an air of maturity to try to impress the new playmate, attempting to use big words and stifling laughter where you didn’t find it inappropriate. However, after seeing him with Yoongi, you came to realize he was just as silly as the boys your age.

You were never able to get 100% comfortable with Tae, though. Maybe you two were too different. Over the years, he remained his silly, childishly innocent self, while you gained the maturity that you tried to fake all those years ago. His personality seemed to clash with Yoongi’s, who was more mellow and sometimes bordered on lethargic, and you wondered how they had remained friends after all these years, even choosing to move in together once Taehyung graduated high school. Of course there was no escaping him, since he was best friends with your best-friend-turned-boyfriend. Despite knowing him for nearly nine years, you were never very close. You didn’t share your secrets or go to him for advice the way you did with Yoongi. You didn’t make an effort to spend time with him outside of your group hangouts with Yoongi. He was a lot more quiet around you. When you saw each other at the apartment, you greeted each other curtly and made small talk, but never anything more.

“So I’m just gonna go with Tae?” You asked incredulously.

“I don’t see why not,” Yoongi replied. “If I can’t take you, Tae is the next best thing.”

You scoffed. “What about our outfits? We’ll have to go out and buy a new one for him! We only have a week before the dance to get everything tailored!”

“The main part is the jacket, and Tae and I have similar upper body measurements so he can just take the one we bought for me. Also the bow tie. And the rest is just basic tux stuff which I’m sure he has.”

“Okay. But are you sure you’re okay with not going? And you’re okay with me taking him?” You started to warm up to the idea and relaxed a little bit. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad that Yoongi couldn’t go. Sure, Tae wasn’t your boyfriend, but he was still insanely handsome, even you couldn’t deny it. He knew how to dance and have a good time, so you were willing to give it a shot.

“Honestly I’m not too bothered about not going. I was only interested because I know how important it is for you and I just want to make you happy. Also I love you and I know that you love me, so I trust that you won’t pull any funny business with Taehyung.”

You moved from the chair to the couch and sat down next to your boyfriend, scooting close and tucking yourself under his arm. You looked up at him and smiled. “Taehyung is like a 5 year old, though. What if he embarrasses me or what if I can’t stand to be with him for more than 20 minutes? I’ve never been alone with him for that long before.”

“You can drop him off by the food table and go hang out with your friends. Hoseok and Jungkook will be there too, right?” You nodded. Hoseok and Jungkook were Yoongi and Tae’s friends from high school, and also your best friends, Jina and Hyejin’s, boyfriends, respectively. “If anything they can take Tae off your hands if need be. Or take Tae’s hands off of you.” He chuckled once again.

You sighed. “Fine. But only because I love you.”

The night you had been waiting for finally arrived. Although Yoongi couldn’t escort you to the dance, he wanted to at least help you get ready and then join you and your friends at dinner. You went over to Yoongi’s place so he could help you get changed and make sure your hair and makeup were okay. Since he was also joining you guys for dinner, he decided to dress up as well, although not in the black sequin tuxedo jacket that matched your dress. Instead he donned a grey sportcoat with subtle silver sparkles that he got from the stylists he worked with on his tour, pairing it with a simple white shirt which he chose not to button up all the way. You were in the midst of asking Yoongi whether you should wear your pearl chandelier earrings or blood red ruby droplets when Tae entered the room, announcing that he was ready when you are.

“What the hell are you wearing?” You exclaimed, giving him a once over. When your eyes made it to his face, he was staring at you blankly, his mouth open.

He quickly snapped out of his daze and his gaze shifted from you to Yoongi, then back to you. “What do you mean? I’m wearing the jacket Yoongi gave me.” He replied innocently. In addition to that jacket he was wearing a deep red button-down, which he also chose not to button up all the way, and tight black pants.

“Yeah but you’re supposed to keep it classy. Don’t you own a white shirt? Or a vest? Maybe a cummerbund?” Yoongi put a hand on your shoulder to calm you down.

“I don’t even know what that last thing is.” He replied. “And I tried it with the white shirt and bowtie and it just felt so stuffy. Not my thing. This suits me much better.’ He used both his hands to gesture up and down his body.

You had to admit that he did look good. The red and black went well with his dark brown hair, which he had textured so that it was a little bit wavy. And at least he had the decency to put on some nice dress shoes.

Yoongi put his arm around your waist and pulled you close. “Hey, at least now you don’t have to worry about which earrings to wear.” He said softly into your hair.

You stepped out of his embrace and shoved the ruby droplets into your ears. “Sure I guess. Whatever let’s go.” You grabbed your sparkly black clutch off the nightstand and placed your phone inside. “We don’t want to keep the rest of the group waiting.”

Dinner took place at one of those fancy seafood restaurants by the pier. You met your friends outside, greeting each other and squealing about how good you looked in your dresses.

When that was all done, Hyejin eyed your little trio and said, “I see you brought two dates with you tonight.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh, my god, stop. Don’t.” You teasingly pushed her away.

“Yoongi looks nice tonight. Too bad he can’t stay long.” She added. “And Tae cleans up well. He’s looking quite handsome tonight. It’s kind of making me want to trade dates.” Hyejin smirked.

“Hey!” Jungkook protested. “That’s not cool!”

“Don’t worry, babe. I’m just joking.” Hyejin reassured. “But don’t you think Taehyung looks nice tonight?”

Taehyung stood there and didn’t say anything. He just looked around the group, and you could tell that your friend was making him uncomfortable.

You, too, were quite uncomfortable and you let out a groan as you buried your face in your hands. “Can we please just go inside and have dinner?” You chimed in, desperate to drop the subject. Sure, Tae looked incredibly good tonight, but you didn’t want to be, couldn’t be, thinking about him that way. “I’m starving; I haven’t eaten all day.” You grabbed Yoongi’s hand and started leading the group toward the restaurant entrance.

Thankfully dinner was not as awkward as it could have been. The seven of you made small talk as your enjoyed your pricey-but-delicious seafood dishes. Your friends asked Yoongi how his latest tour went, and you asked Yoongi’s friends how school was going for them. By the end of the meal all of you were laughing at something hilariously adorable that Taehyung said while splitting a giant ice cream sundae. When the check came you guys spent so long trying to figure out how to split it that Yoongi finally got fed up and offered to paid the whole thing himself.

“No! You don’t have to do that, Yoongi!” You protested.

“It’s not a big deal, Y/N. I got it,” he replied.

“At least let us pay you back. That’s a lot of money for all seven of us.” Hoseok chimed in.

“Don’t worry guys, really,” Yoongi reassured. “Honestly I have more money now than I know what to do with.” He let out a small laugh.

“Ah, Yoongi! You spoil me too much!” You said, grabbing onto his arm.

He turned to face you. “That’s because I love you so much, Y/N.” He leaned in to kiss you on the nose. Your face scrunched up at how cute he was being.

Everyone at the table responded by saying “Awwwwwww.” Except Taehyung. Tae just sat there awkwardly. Maybe because he was supposed to be your date tonight. Maybe because he sat closest to you and Yoongi and was uncomfortable with your PDA. Anyway, you didn’t really notice.

“You guys are too cute!” Exclaimed Jina. She turned to her boyfriend. “Hoseok, why can’t we be cute like?”

“Are you saying we’re not cute?” Hoseok asked, dramatically putting a hand to his chest and pretending to be deeply offended. “I am hurt. Everyone knows I’m an adorable ray of sunshine so maybe it’s you that’s the problem,” he joked.

Jina giggled and swatted his arm. “Sure you are, babe.” Hoseok made an exaggerated pouty face.

After Yoongi took care of the bill, leaving a generous tip for the waiters, the seven of you got into your waiting limo and headed off to the venue. Taehyung remained silent for most of the car ride, only occasionally joining in on the conversation and smiling at whatever someone said. You were so distracted by the conversation amongst your friends that you didn't really notice. You arrived not long after and Yoongi stepped out of the car first, extending his hand to help you out of the vehicle. You took it and smiled at him.

“I really wish you didn't have to leave.” You said once you were in front of the venue.

“Aw I know, babe.” He pulled you into a hug. “Are you going to be coming back to my place afterwards?”

You nodded.

“Great. I'll wait up for you.” He smiled and gave you a soft peck on the lips.

You smiled back at him and let go of him reluctantly.

“I’ll see you later.” He gave you a gentle push toward the entrance. “Now go have fun. I love you.”

“Love you, too. I’ll try.”

Tae walked up next to you and stuck his elbow out for you. “Ready?” He asked. You placed your hand in the crook of his arm and let him escort you in.

When you walked in, there were tables set up in the lobby with teachers and various other staff tending them and checking people in. You and Tae showed one of the teachers your IDs and she gave you each two marbles. There were large jars at the end of the table, each with a name on them. You were supposed to drop a marble in for the person you wanted to be Prom King and the person you wanted to be Prom Queen. Not knowing any of the nominees, you just dropped a marble into a jar for each category without even looking. Still not saying much to each other, you and Tae then walked into the ballroom, Collar Full playing as you entered.

You take in all the sights around you: the big white letters on the stage spelling HOLLYWOOD, the black and gold streamers lining the walls, the gold balloons scattered around the room, and the red velvet table cloths draped over the tables. There were round standing tables around the perimeter of the dance floor for guests to gather and chat and enjoy refreshments. It was everything you had dreamed it would be, and you just wished Yoongi was here to see it all.

Your group found a table off to the side to put your belongings and the boys brought you all some punch.

“It's a shame it's not spiked,” Hoseok said, taking a sip from his cup and frowning.

Tae pulled a rather large metal flask from the inside pocket of his jacket. “It can be.” He raised his eyebrows.

“Sweet!” Hoseok replied, sticking his cup out for Tae.

“Make sure no one sees.” You warned. You really didn’t want to get kicked out on the night you had been dreaming about your whole life.

“Don't worry, Y/N. I got this.” Tae smirked. He poured some liquor into each of your cups. The punch was so sweet that you all downed it easily.

You spent most of the night telling jokes and getting a little tipsy while enjoying the music. The alcohol helped you loosen up a bit around Taehyung and you were able to talk to him more easily. About halfway through the night, with the contents of his flask depleted, Taehyung brazenly grabbed your hand and pulled you on to the dance floor. The DJ was playing Fast Pace and the boy moved to the sensual, midtempo rhythm. Damn, he really knows how to dance, you thought. You couldn't help but stare at the way he moved his lean body fluidly with the music, never missing a beat. You thought about how if Yoongi were here, he would not be nearly as graceful. It might have even been embarrassing if you didn't love him so much. But Tae, Tae. The way he moved was something else, and you considered yourself lucky to have someone like him by your side on the dance floor.

The people around you seemed to notice him as well. Some of them stopped dancing altogether to watch the boy. You were starting to feel self conscious with all the eyes in your direction. Taehyung noticed and pulled you closer to him, swaying your body in time with his. You quickly got lost in the feeling and soon all the people around you disappeared. As far as you were concerned, you and Tae were the only ones on the dance floor. Your eyes made their way to his and roamed the rest of his face, taking in the way his hair swooped down to just at his eyebrows, the fuzzy caterpillars slightly peeking through; his wide eyes, the most beautiful shade of chocolate brown; his cute little nose with a faint, barely noticeable mole at the tip; his soft, plump, pink lips that spread into a smile when he looked at you, revealing his pearly white teeth.

Why are you thinking about this? Stop it, Y/N, you thought. You can’t be thinking this way about him.

When the music stopped, you were still looking up at Taehyung, your mind in a daze. It’s probably just the alcohol. You were snapped out of it when Principal Kim’s voice echoed through the ballroom.

“Ladies and gentlemen and everyone in between.” He had gotten up on stage and was now speaking into a microphone. “Now is the time that I know many of you have been waiting for: the unveiling of Prom King and Queen!”

You and Tae turned toward the stage. He kept an arm around your waist as Principal Kim spoke. “Shall we start with the King?” The crowd murmured in response. “Okay! Sticking with the theme here, I think I’m going to try something a little different,” he continued. “And the winner of the 2015 Oscar Award for Prom King is… Park Jinyoung!”

The spotlight focused on the popular guy in your calculus class as he made his way to the stage. He was smiling and confident as he accepted his crown and afterward made his way off to the side of the stage.

“Now, everyone. It's time for the crowning of Prom Queen!” Principal Kim seemed far more excited than anyone else in the room. The only people who really cared were the ones who personally knew the nominees. “And the 2015 Oscar Award for Prom Queen goes to… Y/N!”

“What?” Your jaw dropped and you looked over at Tae. “I didn't even know I was nominated?” You said to him.

“Really?” he replied. “I voted for you.” He smiled at you. “Now go!” He gave you a small push towards the stage. “Before they give your crown to someone else.”

You smiled back at him and made your way toward the stage. You continued to smile as you accepted your crown and hoped no one could tell how nervous you were. You were thankful for the bit of alcohol that was still in your system, for if you weren’t still a little tipsy, you probably would have passed out from the nerves. You scanned the crowd until your eyes found Taehyung, who gave you two thumbs up when your eyes met. This gave you the boost of confidence you needed when you saw all the audience looking at you. You greeted your king with a bow and the two of you made your way to the dance floor for your obligatory king and queen dance.

The dance was definitely awkward since you didn’t know Jinyoung very well, but at least you didn’t step on his feet or fall or anything like that. It felt nothing like dancing with Tae and the entire time you were just hoping the song would end so you could go back to him. You didn’t even pay attention to what the song was; you just wanted it to end.

The song finally finished and you pulled away from Jinyoung. You thanked each other and said your goodbyes. “Congratulations, my queen.” Jinyoung said.

“Congratulations to you, too, Jinyoung,” you replied.

Jinyoung looked over to where Tae was waiting for you. “Don’t let me keep you from your boyfriend.”

“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend. He’s just a friend.”

“Of course.” He smiled. “Well, have a nice night. I’ll see you around.”

“See you around.” You spun around and made your way back to your date.

“That crown looks nice on you,” he said when you approached him. “Royalty suits you.”

“Thanks,” you replied. At that moment the DJ announced that he was going to play another slow song. The sounds of So Far Away began to fill the ballroom. “Oh! It’s Yoongi’s song!” Your face lit up when you heard it.

“May I have this dance, my queen?” Tae extended his hand out and bowed to you.

You giggled. “Why of course.” You replied, curtsying and taking his hand in yours.

Tae used his other hand to wrap around your waist and pulled you close against him, swaying with the music. You rested your cheek against his chest while he placed his chin atop your head. One hand was still in his while the other laid on his shoulder. He was quite a bit taller than Yoongi, so you had to reach a little bit higher. You closed your eyes and pretended it was Yoongi there with you. Being this close to Tae, it was hard not to inhale his earthy sandalwood scent, a stark contrast to Yoongi’s sweet blackberry cologne. You could hear his heart beating in his chest, getting faster as the dance went on.

You tried not to focus on how his arm felt wrapped around you, or his chest against yours. Instead you tried to focus on Yoongi’s voice and his beautiful lyrics.

Dream. I was there for your creation and I will be there for your end. Dream. Wherever you go, it will be lenient. Dream. You will fully bloom after all the hardships. Dream. Your beginning is humble, so prosperous your future will be.

The song ended before you wanted it to and Tae held on to you just a little bit longer after the music stopped. The DJ had already started playing Hard Carry when you finally pulled back from him. He looked you in the eyes and didn't break his gaze. Before you knew it he was leaning in and pressing his lips against yours, and you were letting him. His lips were even softer than you imagined them to be. They tasted faintly of punch, peppermint lip balm, and a little bit of vodka.

He looked startled when he pulled back. “I– I shouldn't have done that.” He stuttered. “I'm so sorry.”

You felt the heat creep up your neck and you avoided his gaze. “It’s okay, Tae. Just don't let it happen again.”

“Right. Sorry.”

You looked around to make sure your friends hadn't seen. They were nowhere to be found, probably off in a dark corner somewhere making out and groping each other.

Taehyung left you alone for a while, choosing to indulge himself in the dessert bar while you went out to get some fresh air. You sat on one of the benches on the terrace that connected to the ballroom, very similar to the ones in Disney princess movies. You gazed up at the stars, surrounded by topiary while Ssenunni thumped behind the closed doors.

After about half an hour, you heard the doors behind you open. Or rather, you heard the music suddenly get louder and clearer. You turned around to see Taehyung standing behind you, slowly and hesitantly making his way forward. He gestured toward the empty space on the bench next to you, asking for permission to sit down. You looked at him and nodded, neither of you having said a word to each other yet.

Tae sat hunched forward, with his elbows on his knees. He looked out into the night and took a deep breath before saying, “I’m sorry.” You remained silent, staring at the back of his head. “I think I drank too much and I wasn’t thinking clearly. We were having such a good time and the last thing I wanted was to make it weird.”

You wanted to say something but you weren’t sure what. “It’s okay”? No, because what if he thinks that means you liked it and he tried to kiss you again. “Don’t worry about it” seemed too casual for this situation. Instead, you just remained silent.

“Things have always been kind of awkward between us and I think I just made it worse. Again, I’m sorry.”

When you still hadn’t said anything, Tae turned around to look at you. Your blank expression didn’t change and you just stared back at him.

“Can we just… Can we just pretend it never happened?” You finally said.

“Yeah, yeah. I can do that,” he replied.

You gave him a small smile which he immediately returned, relieved that you weren’t as mad at him as he thought you would be. That’s when you heard the DJ scream through the microphone, “Ayo, Ladies and Gentlemen, this night is coming to a close and this next song will be my last! Prepare yourselves because it’s going to be a bop!”

Tae stood up and looked down at you. “What do you say? Shall we go inside for one last dance?” He stuck his hand out for you to take.

“Sure,” you replied, slipping your hand in his as you stood up.

He led you inside just as The Beat started blasting through the speakers. You found your friends and all of you gathered on the dance floor for one last dance. The six of you jumped around so much that at many times, Tae had to push your crown back on your head to keep it from falling, for you were too busy dancing to notice.

The night may not have gone exactly how you always dreamed it would, but you still had a great time. By the end of it, you had removed your painfully high heels, and had to walk barefoot back to the limo, where you passed out from exhaustion and fell asleep on Tae’s shoulder on the way back to the apartment he shared with Yoongi.

When you returned to the apartment, even though you were on the brink of passing out again, you were completely ready to confess everything to Yoongi. However, although he told you he would wait up for you, you found him asleep at his desk, where he had been working on some new music just hours before. You felt kind of relieved, for, upon seeing him, you weren’t as ready to talk to him as you thought you were. Not wanting to disturb him, you slipped out of your dress and into one of Yoongi’s t-shirts, and crawled into his bed, thinking that if he woke up during the night he would come and join you.

The next morning when you woke, Yoongi was no longer at his desk, but the blanket beside you remained unwrinkled. You got up and used the bathroom before going into the living room. You found Yoongi on the couch reading something on his tablet and you sat down next to him. Tae was nowhere to be seen, and the apartment was completely silent, so he was probably still asleep. Yoongi looked up from his iPad at you and you took a deep breath, preparing yourself to tell him what had happened.

“How was last night?” He asked before you could get your words out. “Sorry I fell asleep before you two got back.”

“That's okay. I actually wanted to talk to you about something and I don't think I would have been ready to last night.”

A concerned look washed over your boyfriend’s face. “Is something wrong?”

“Well…” You paused, trying to organize what you're going to say and choosing your words carefully. “So, Tae brought some alcohol with him last night… And–and we both got kind of drunk.”

“Mhm.” Yoongi's expression didn't change.

“And I was crowned prom queen and still kinda tipsy. And they played a slow song after my dance with the king and it was your song.” You started speaking faster because you were so nervous. “So Tae and I danced to your song and we were still kinda drunk and when it ended he pulled back and kissed me…” You left out the part where you kissed him back.

“That's it?”

Your eyes went wide at his question. “Uhh. Yes?”

Yoongi let out a sigh of relief. “Don't worry. I know. Tae told me before he left this morning.”

Tae already left? Where did he go that early? He wasn't avoiding you, was he?

“If you already knew then why did you look so worried?” You asked him.

“Because you sounded so serious. I was worried that Tae did something bad that he wasn't tell me.” His brows knit together again. “He didn't do anything bad, right?”

“Oh, no! God, no! Absolutely not!” You didn't think Taehyung was even capable of something like that.

“Good, good. And you two were drunk. It's not like you actually like each other.”

“Right, right.” You lowered your gaze from his.

Did you like him? You didn't think so. But then again, the more you thought about it, the more you felt like you did. When he kissed you it was very different from when Yoongi kissed you. When Yoongi kissed you, it felt like a piece of you had been missing but then found, like something you never thought you'd see again was finally returned to you. When Tae kissed you, it felt warm and fuzzy, like wrapping yourself in a blanket and cozying up by the fireplace on a cold winter day, warming you from the inside and out. Two very different, very nice feelings.

Shit, Y/N. What are you doing? You thought. You love Yoongi. How could you ever doubt that? Tae… That was just because you were drunk. Nothing more. It may be just a minor infatuation, but you don't love him. Not the way you love Yoongi. You will never love him the way you love Yoongi.

Yoongi glanced at the clock, then back at you. “I have a meeting in an hour so I gotta go.” He stood up and planted a kiss on your forehead. “I made you breakfast and I’ll be back by lunch. We can go to that sandwich place you said you’ve been wanting to try.” He made his way to the door and grabbed his jacket and keys.

“Okay, sounds good. Good luck at your meeting,” you said as he opened the door.

“Thanks, babe. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” and with that he was gone.

You were left in the empty, silent apartment to be alone with your thoughts. You wanted to get your feelings sorted out before Yoongi returned. But first, you were starving. You hadn't eaten anything in over 14 hours and felt that if you didn't get something in your stomach soon, you would faint. You walked over to the kitchen to see what Yoongi had made for you. You looked on the stove and saw your favorite: french toast with the recipe your mom gave him, as well as some coffee, and fresh squeezed orange juice, the rinds still on the counter from when he made it.

Would Tae ever? You asked yourself. Probably not. I've never seen the boy cook in his entire life. He’d probably be the type to put fishcakes in water and call it soup.

Yoongi: 1

Tae: 0

What the hell, though? Why am I even comparing them? As if I would ever choose Tae over Yoongi.

You had just sat down on the the couch with your plate of food when the front door opened. In walked Tae wearing basketball shorts and a white t-shirt, which was almost transparent as it clung to his chest, drenched in sweat. His dark hair covered part of his face, made darker by the perspiration dripping down his forehead. His muscles glistened as they caught the light streaming in from the window. The veins on his arms bulged as he gripped the basketball in his hand.

“Hey.” He said, as he closed the door behind him.

“Hey.” You replied. “Where did you go so early in the morning?”

“I was out playing basketball with Jungkook, Hoseok, and a few of our other friends.” He lifted the basketball a little higher to show you. “Damn, it is hot outside. I’m gonna hop in the shower before I leave a puddle.”

“Please,” was all you said in return.

Dammit. Why did he have to look so good drenched in sweat.

He left you to finish your breakfast in peace and you were grateful that he was gone. When you finished, you got up from the couch and put your plate in the sink. You poured yourself a glass of Yoongi’s orange juice as Tae was getting out of the shower. As you were finishing up your juice, Tae stepped into the kitchen wearing a clean white t-shirt, grey sweatpants, and a white towel around his shoulders. His hair was still dripping from when he washed it, the water droplets falling, only to be absorbed by the towel.

You were about to start washing the dishes when he put a hand out to stop you. “I’ll do it.”

“No, that’s okay. It’s my mess.”

Tae took the plate and sponge from your hands and set them down in the sink. “I’m about to eat. There would be no point in you washing all the dishes only to have me dirty up some more immediately afterward. It’ll save water to wash them all at once.”

“Okay. There’s still some leftover french toast that Yoongi made earlier. Help yourself.”

“Cool.” He reached over you to grab a plate from the cupboard.

Okay. He’s getting too close and you need to leave, Y/N, you told yourself.

You ducked underneath his arm and made your escape, running to the couch and pretending that you were late for a TV program you wanted to watch. A few minutes later, as you were flipping through the channels, Tae sat down to join you. He left an entire couch cushion in between you two and for that you were thankful.

“Hey, Tae.” You looked over at him.

He had just stuffed a large forkful of french toast into his face. “Mmm?” He said with his mouth full.

“Did you tell Hoseok and Jungkook what happened last night?”

He swallowed before answering. “I thought we were going to pretend it never happened. No, I did not tell them; it’s none of their business.”

“But you told Yoongi.”

“That’s because it’s his business. You’re his business. If I kissed his girlfriend, he would need to know. If anyone kissed his girlfriend that wasn’t him, he would need to know.” He took a sip from his cup of coffee. “Also, I knew you would tell him. If you told him before I got to, he would think I was keeping it from him and he would never forgive me. I’ve known him for too long to throw away our friendship like that.”

You had never seen Tae act so serious before. You knew he valued his friendship with Yoongi, why else would he have stuck around this long? But he never explicitly said it. Then again, you and Tae had never really had any heart-to-hearts like this in the past.

“Also, if he got mad at me and kicked me out, I would have nowhere to go. I can’t just move back in with my parents; they live on the other side of the city. The commute to school would take me like 3 hours minimum!”

You smiled at that last bit. As if that was the only reason he didn’t want to move back in with his parents.

Neither of you knew what else to say so Taehyung continued to eat his french toast. All was silent except for the sounds coming from the TV. When he was finished, he set his plate down on the coffee table in front of you two.

“Y/N,” Tae said, breaking the silence.

“Hmm?” You replied, pretending to be too absorbed in the TV program to look at him.

He, however, was staring at you and couldn’t take his eyes off. “Can I tell you something?” He asked almost shyly.

This caught your attention. He had never spoken to you this way before. You finally turned to look at him. “Uhh, yeah. What is it, Taehyung?”

He glanced at the TV then back at you. “Uhh.. Well…I’ve always liked you.”

“Well, I like you, too. Isn’t that why we’re friends?” You asked, praying he didn’t mean what you feared he meant.

“No.” Oh, no. “I mean I used to have a huge crush on you when we were kids.”

Welp, there it is. Exactly what you didn’t want to hear come from his lips. His beautifully soft lips. What? Shut up. You caught yourself staring at them and nearly drooling.

“Why else do you think I was so shy around you?” He continued. “Talking to you alone always made me kind of nervous. I never told you because you always seemed to like Yoongi more.” Now I’m not so sure about that, buddy. “Which is understandable since I kind of tried avoiding you when Yoongi wasn’t around.”

Still, you said nothing.

“For a long time I thought I was over you. Over the crush, I mean.” His eyes left yours and stared out the window behind you. “But seeing you last night… You just looked so beautiful and I just… I couldn't help it.”

“Maybe you are over me,” you reasoned. “And those feelings just came back because you were drunk.”

“I mean, I guess that's also a possibility.”

“And maybe you still feel that way right now because of how the alcohol made it feel when you kissed me. Maybe if you kissed me again right now, you wouldn't feel anything.”

The boy positioned himself to face you and in response you turned your body toward his. He stared at you silently for a moment, with brows furrowed and eyes flickering to every corner of your face before saying, “Can we try it again?”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

Yes, you wanted to, but no, you shouldn’t.

“Sorry. That was inappropriate of me to ask.”

“No,” You started and immediately saw his face fall. “Uh– I mean… Uhh. Sorry, I was just shocked you asked that.” You avoided looking him in the eyes. “But, yes. I think we should try again. Because I can't stop thinking about last night and I just want to make sure I don't actually have feelings for you.”

Makes sense, I guess.

“Wait, so you felt something, too?”

“Yes.” Your eyes met his again. “But maybe because I'm not really used to drinking that much.”

“Right, sure.”

“So, should we…?”

“Uhh right, yeah.” Tae reached his hand up to brush the loose strands of hair from your forehead kind of awkwardly and brought his hand down to softly stroke your cheek. He then leaned forward so slowly you thought he might never reach you. Impatient, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his, closing the gap between you two. His hand left your cheek and wound its way into your hair while your hands lay flat against his chest.

Nothing. You felt nothing. Except the overwhelming sense of relief because you felt nothing. You hoped that Tae felt the same.

At that moment, the door opened and in walked Yoongi, your boyfriend.

“What the fuck is going on?” You and Tae jolted apart.

“I– Yoongi, I can explain!” You started.

“I can't believe you two.” He marched into his room and slammed the door shut.

“Fuck,” Tae muttered.

“I should go talk to him.” You said.

“No. Let him calm down a bit. It'll be no use trying to reason with him when he’s this upset.” You knew Tae was right. He got up from the couch and grabbed his plate. “I'm going to do the dishes,” he announced, and made his way to the kitchen.

“I’ll help.”

“No. You really don't have to. This is my mess.” You weren't sure if he was still talking about the dirty plate or this whole situation.

“I’m going to help.” You insisted.

“Fine.”

Tae scrubbed while you rinse, for the most part in silence. You were enjoying not having to talk to him until he turned toward you and said, “I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”

“Tae. You've apologized to me like 6 times in less than 24 hours. I don't blame you. Part of it is my fault, too for letting it happen. Twice.”

“Yeah, but I initiated it both times.”

“But I didn't stop you.” That shut up him for a moment. You could tell he was trying to figure out what to say next.

“You didn’t… You didn't feel anything the second time, did you?” He asked hesitantly.

“Uhhhh. No.” It was the truth. “Did you?”

“No. No.” It was a lie. “I didn’t.”

“Good. So now we don't have to worry about that. We just have to worry about explaining this to Yoongi.”

“Right. Yeah.”

The two of you did the rest of the dishes in silence. You were thinking about what you were going to say to Yoongi, or rather how you were going to say it.

“Do you think I should go talk to him now?” You asked as you were putting the dried dishes back in the cupboard.

“It's been approximately 32 minutes since he stormed out so I think it's safe to say he calmed down a little bit.”

“Okay. Wish me luck.”

“He’s an understanding person; you don't need it.”

You gave him a small smile before walking toward Yoongi’s room. You stood in front of it and took a deep breath before trying to enter. You knocked twice and tried the doorknob. It was locked.

“Yoongi, it's me.” There was no response. “Yoongi, let me in.”

You heard shuffling from within and the door swung open revealing Yoongi on the other side. He didn't say anything. He just turned around and sat back down at his desk, facing his computer. You sat down on his bed facing him. You willed him to look at you.

“Yoongi.” Silence. You weren't sure if he couldn't hear you due to the headphones he was wearing, or if he was just using them as an excuse to ignore you. “Please talk to me.”

He turned toward you and took off the headphones. “Why did you do it?” was the first thing he said. “I mean I know why you did it the first time. But why'd you do it again? In my own house too?”

“I know. I'm sorry I–”

“You're sorry? You're sorry.” He scoffed. “If you were really sorry you wouldn't have done it in the first place.”

“I know. I just– I just wanted to make sure I didn’t have any feelings for him.”

“And you thought shoving your tongue down his throat would be the best way to do that??” The words came out angrier than he intended.

You gaped at the sudden raise in his voice. You sat there speechless, on the verge of tears, unsure of how to respond.

“I’m sorry,” was all you could muster, your voice soft as you looked down at your lap.

Upon seeing how his tone affected you, he softened a bit.

He got up from his chair and sat down on the bed next to you, keeping his distance. All you could think about was how much you wanted to lean against his chest, have him put his arms around you and whisper his forgiveness in your ear.

“And do you?” he asked.

“Hm?”

“Do you have feelings for him?” He didn't sound angry anymore.

“No, I don't.” You answered, and you saw him relax a little. “I still love you. More than anyone else.”

He looked relieved and he put his arm around you, pulling you in for a hug. He planted a kiss on top of you head and held you as he said, “I love you, too. I'm sorry I yelled at you.”

“And again I'm sorry I kissed Tae.” Twice. “Please don't be mad at him.”

He let out a soft chuckle. “Don’t worry about him. I’m not mad anymore.”

You scooted over to snuggle closer to him. “Are we going to be okay?” You murmured into his chest.

“I hope so,” Yoongi responded, stroking your hair.

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rockrevoltmagazine · 7 years ago

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Grace Potter's Grand Point North 2017 Preview - Artist Interview - Mondo Cozmo

Mondo Cozmo Performing at Boston Calling 2017

Unless you’ve been lying under gigantic rock formations in the desert this summer or somehow one of those pesky hurricanes managed to sweep you out into the North Atlantic, you’ve probably come across Mondo Cozmo’s hit single, “Shine,” even if you didn’t realize it.

Whether you heard it on the radio on your ride to work, on Spotify while you were attempting to sweat out the previous evening’s liquid debauchery or perhaps you just overheard two birds chirping it to one another, it’s been next to impossible not to come across Mondo Cozmo’s music lately.

In any event the steamroller that’s Mondo Cozmo has been invading the airwaves, as well as countless venues and festival grounds these past three months, to the delight of tens of thousands of adoring new fans.

Who exactly is Mondo Cozmo though? Is he an angel keeping watch over America at night as violence and darkness take over our streets? Is he the muse this world needs right now to restore balance and peace to the masses in these oh so chaotic times?

Or is Mondo Cozmo perhaps just this one of kind sublime talent whose unique brand of music has been penetrating the hearts and minds of the lucky souls who’ve had the fortune of crossing paths with the enigma and his band recently?

Bonus points if your answer was one of the first two aforementioned options, however, option number three was the correct choice, as Mondo Cozmo is actually Philadelphia born, now Los Angeles based musician, Josh Ostrander.

Ostrander, who previously fronted the early 2000’s alt-rock outfits, LaGuardia and Eastern Conference Champions, began recording under the moniker Mondo Cozmo back in in 2016.

Since then his single, “Shine” reached number one on Billboard’s Adult Alternative Chart, he and his band have played north of a hundred shows throughout the course of 2017 alone and just this past month he released his debut album Plastic Soul to primarily critical acclaim.

The record has something to offer just about any listener as it cuts across pop, rock, folk and indie genres, while also seemingly being influenced by a myriad of artists such as Dylan, The Pixies, The National, Springsteen, Mumford and Sons, Beck and U2 to name just a few.

Earlier this summer I stumbled upon Mondo Cozmo at this year’s Boston Calling music festival.

As I entered the festival’s grounds I found myself immediately faced with a music based conundrum. Should I hit up one of the main stages to check out Massachusetts based rock based outfit The Hotelier or instead make my way over to one of the smaller side stages to take in Mondo Cozmo’s set?

Being a fan of The Hotelier, while also not having any clue as to what or who a Mondo Cozmo was, the choice at first, seemed to be an easy one. That was of course until I dialed up the ole inter-webs to take a listen to the band’s single, “Shine.”

Instantly sold on the tune’s uplifting nature and catchy hooks I immediately took a course that would take mere feet from the entity known as Mondo Cozmo.

Like myself, I’m guessing not many in the audience knew Mondo Cozmo all that well, however, by the conclusion of their truncated set the band had everyone within ear shot of the stage they were performing on beyond entranced and begging for more.

It’s also worth mentioning the sheer joy Ostrander and his bandmates had with one another on stage. The lead singer is talented, charismatic and easy on eyes. Thus Ostrander could have easily put together a group of anonymous musicians to serve as his interim backing band whose role would have been to primarily remain in the shadows.

Fortunately the front man had enough clarity and experience, as well as the desire to surround himself with like minded and equally talented musicians, to choose a different path.

The result in a live setting is impossible to ignore as the band, comprised of Ostrander, Drew Beck (guitar), James Gordon (synth/keys), Andrew Tolland (drums) and Chris Null (bass) posses this fiery chemistry, that without question, elevates their performance to greater heights.

Following the band’s set at Boston Calling I immediately reached into my pile of music contacts to find Mondo Cozmo’s publicist so that I could attempt to take in one of his headlining shows and hopefully sit down with the man, the myth and the soon to be legend himself for a short chat.

As luck would have it the band was playing the Higher Ground up in Burlington, Vermont the following night where I would be presented with the opportunity to speak with Mondo Cozmo himself and bare witness to the band’s headlining performance later that evening.

Rock Revolt: Josh can you talk to me about how after recording and touring with bands for the vast majority of your career how different or liberating it’s been for you to write and perform for yourself?

Mondo Cozmo: Well for one I didn’t have to go through four people anymore. Now I’m just going with my gut and letting the songs do all the work. To be honest, it’s been amazing.

The biggest thing I’ve taken away from all of this is to not put any parameters or rules on it. As soon as you do that you’re putting yourself in a box. It’s been liberating and there’s been this sense of my being fearless, which frankly took me a very long time to get around to.

Rock Revolt: Following the demise of both of your previous bands LaGuardia and Eastern Conference Champions I read that you had gone through a bit of dark period and even questioned whether you would or even should continue with music?

Mondo Cozmo: It was a really fucking tough time as I was working two jobs to just keep food on the table. In my spare time I’d record songs up in my guest bedroom.

A lot of the songs that came out during that time like “Shine” “Plastic Soul” and “Higher,” those were songs I was writing because I was bumming and coming to terms with never being able to tour or put records out again. You know I was just sitting around thinking about how my band is done and I don’t even know what I’m doing any more.

It was kind of terrible but the coolest thing about it was the songs I was writing during that dark time, I was only writing for myself and now I’ve been getting all these messages from fans about songs like “Shine.”

People seem to be having these complete opposite reactions to where I was writing those songs from and they’re getting something positive and great out of them.

So it’s cool to think that whatever I had to go through might be helping someone get through his wife leaving him or a relative dying. That’s really the power of music right there. I’m very humbled by it.

Rock Revolt: The songs that appear on your debut record Plastic Soul were mostly written during that period of unrest. Can you talk about where you’re getting your inspiration from these days, as with your new found success I’m guessing your outlook on life and the music industry has become a bit more upbeat and positive.

Mondo Cozmo: It’s tough when you get to the point where tons of people are listening to your music as it changes things. So when “Shine” hit number one I started the full length album and it gave me a completely different perspective regarding what people actually wanted to hear and what they would respond to.

Honestly my super power is being able to write songs super quick. I have a way of delivering songs that I think is unique and it’s been amazing that so many people are starting to take notice.

There’s this great line in Keith Richards book where he talks about when he heard his first song in America. The Rolling Stones were in a van touring the States but he didn’t know the song was coming out yet and he thought they were going to be able to go into the studio and work on it a bit more.

Keith had this great line where he said, you just have to let it go. I was like, fuck yeah, that’s so fucking great. It got me thinking we both were probably in the studio slaving over the fucking toms trying to make them sound good and nobody even gives a shit.

If “Let It Be” sounded even a little bit different no one would care because it would still sound great. So I guess I’ve kind of learned to just let the songs do the work and to try not to over think things too much.

Rock Revolt: One of the most significant takeaways I walked away from at Boston Calling this year was your set and in particular your performance of The Verve classic, “Bittersweet Symphony.’ Can you touch on that song in particular and or how you feel about tackling other artists’ music in general?

Mondo Cozmo: Well the first thing I thought about in terms of covering “Bittersweet Symphony” was, I better do a fucking good job. I consider “Bittersweet Symphony” to probably be my favorite song of all time because it’s just so damn perfect.

I’ve never been in a situation before musically where I could turn to the band I’m playing with and just say let’s do this cover and we’re able to put it together very quickly. I love playing covers especially when we’re playing in front of bunch of kids who have no idea who we are, such as when we opened for Bastille not too long ago.

It also gives anyone a gauge to judge our music against something they’re already familiar with. Personally I think playing covers has been really a smart thing for us to do.

Rock Revolt: Although you wrote Plastic Soul solo you’re touring with an entirely new group of musicians. Can you comment on how you came across the other musicians in your band now and what it’s been like to tour with them this past year?

Mondo Cozmo: The scariest part for me was I had to change my approach to music and actually do auditions; which was terrifying because I thought one, these guys aren’t going to like me and two, these guys aren’t going to even let me know they don’t like me because they may want the gig.

I went through all of these auditions and it all kind of just came together organically. As it turned out the one thing that I was most worried about ended up becoming the most exciting part of the whole experience.

We haven’t played a lot of shows with one another so you’re watching a band come together every time we play on stage right now. We’re trying to remember lyrics and chords and we’re still in dressing rooms trying to learn all this new shit together. We’ve all been doing this a long time, we’ve all been in a ton of bands and this one man, this one feels special.

Rock Revolt: Finally can you touch on how you feel about what some of the uninformed would consider your rather quick ascent to fame as well as what you and the band are hoping to accomplish for the remainder of 2017?

Mondo Cozmo: I’m not going to hide behind my age or how long I’ve been doing this. I wish I could have had this kind of success when I was seventeen but for whatever reason I had to go through what I endured so that I could write better songs. Where I’m right now feels so good and because I worked so hard for it, no one can take it away from me.

As for the band and the remainder of this year I want to get to the point where we aren’t opening up for anyone but if U2 called and asked us to open for them maybe we’ll take the call.

At the end of the day I’ve been opening up for other bands for seventeen years, I’m ready to headline. I don’t care about the size of the venue, just so long as it’s packed and we’re the last band on stage.

This Friday September 15th Mondo Cozmo plays the Paradise in Boston, Massachusetts before heading back up to Burlington, Vermont this weekend to take part in Grace Potter’s annual Grand Point North music festival.

Tickets to Mondo Cozmo at the Paradise on September 15, 2017:

http://events.crossroadspresents.com/events/2017/9/15/mondo-cozmo

Tickets to Grace Potter’s Grand Point North Music Festival September 16th-17th:

http://grandpointnorth.com/tickets/

Connect with Mondo Cozmo (click icons):

All Writing and Photography: Robert Forte

Instagram: 40_photography http://www.instagram.com/40_photography/

Facebook: 4zerophotography http://www.facebook.com/4zerophotography/

Grace Potter’s Grand Point North 2017 Preview – Artist Interview – Mondo Cozmo was originally published on RockRevolt Mag

#anna faris #boston calling #eastern conference champions #Grace Potter #grand point north #higher ground #hold on to me #josh ostrander #laguardia #mondo cozmo #Republic Records #shine #umusic #universal music

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