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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 4 years ago

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I have no idea who would find this post interesting besides me, as it refers to two unrelated shows that aired 15 years apart. I just happened to watch them both for the first time in the last month or so, and saw some parallels. Spoilers for the endings to both shows.

Similarities between Avenue 5 and Nathan Barley:

- In both of them, the guy who initially seems like the most competent character (Dan Ashcroft, Ryan Clark) almost immediately turns out to be a useless alcoholic.

- Beyond that, there’s a larger theme in both shows of giving authority to the wrong people for superficial reasons. Avenue 5 has Hugh Laurie and then the crew members on the bridge turn out to be actors who don’t know what they’re doing. In Nathan Barley, the idiots all respect Dan Ashcroft because he project the cool aura that they find impressive, even though he 1) hates them, and 2) is a useless alcoholic. And of course you have all the people who think Nathan Barley is cool just because he looks the part of a cool hipster, according to 2005 standards (I was in high school in 2005, and I can confirm that that is exactly how “cool” looked at that time).

- Both start out surprisingly light and straightforwardly comic, despite being made by creators (Charlie Brooker and Chris Morris made Nathan Barley, Armando Iannucci made Avenue 5) who are usually much more into dark satire and black comedy. By the end of their first season (only season in Nathan Barley’s case, though fortunately that won’t be the case for Avenue 5), they have both descended rapidly into black comedy.

In both cases, that contrast is used effectively to heighten the shock of that black comedy. In Nathan Barley, when I got to the bit where Julian Barrett got told to jerk off a guy in a bathroom for an article, I thought it was a funny concept. But the show so far had lured me into feeling like I was watching a somewhat regular sit-com, so I expected that to play out the way it would in a regular sit-com: they play on that funny idea for a while but obviously they don’t actually have their main character jerk off a guy in the bathroom. Or maybe they show him coming out of a bar looking ashamed, and get some laughs out of having him tell other characters “I don’t want to talk about it”, and they never quite tell us what happened. The fact that I was expecting that made it especially jarring when it suddenly cut from him talking to the guy in the bar to him actually jerking the guy off in a bathroom.

In an example where they went even blacker and played with straight-up tragedy, I had similar expectations when people in Avenue 5 started talking about wanting to launch themselves into space. I’d started feeling like I was watching a regular sit-com, so I expected that to play like a sit-com, in which we laugh at the characters’ ignorance but no one actually dies. And they died. And then more of them died. Including multiple characters who’d had names and lines. Jesus, Iannucci.

- They both show a staggering spectrum of incompetence, challenging the binary that says if one character is bad then the people who disagree with them are good. In Avenue 5, Josh Gad doesn’t know what he’s doing, and Hugh Laurie dislikes him, but Hugh Laurie also doesn’t know what he’s doing. Those two are often set up as being in opposition to the customers, but the customers also mostly don’t know what they’re doing. Zach Woods tries to get along with everyone, fails to get along with anyone, and doesn’t know what he’s doing. Even the stand-up comedian, who’s sort of set up as one of the more rational people, is really bad at stand-up comedy.

In Nathan Barley, the idea that there can be incompetent people on all sides of a disagreement is a very overt theme. At the very beginning of the show, it appears that none of its characters know anything except Dan Ashcroft, Claire Ashcroft, and Sasha (plus maybe Pingu, but he’s too passive to really count). By the end of the show, it is clear that the only person who has any idea what they’re doing is Sasha.

Actually, the only characters on Avenue 5 who really know what they’re doing are Billie and Iris. So there’s another similarity. Both shows have women of colour as the only competent characters.

- They’re both period pieces, in that the era in which they’re set is a very significant element of the story. In Nathan Barley’s case that’s 2005. In Avenue 5’s case that’s the near-ish future (near future relative to some sci-fi shows that are set hundreds of years in the future).

- This is a bit niche, but the creators and actors of both shows have crossed over with each other on a lot of other projects, giving the general feeling that they’re both made by a similar broad crew of people. Avenue 5 is basically a parade of people who’ve done other stuff with Armando Iannucci (mostly Veep, which makes sense as they’re both HBO shows). Jessica St. Clair and Andy Buckley both played love interests of main characters in Veep. Zach Woods was in Veep and In the Loop. Priyanga Burford was in The Thick of It and Veep. Hugh Laurie was Tom James on Veep and had a role on The Personal History of David Copperfield, which I think Iannucci would have been making at the same time. Daisy May Cooper was also in the David Copperfield movie. Rebecca Front has done so many projects with Armando Iannucci over two decades.

Nathan Barley was created by Chris Morris, who’s done The Day Today and I’m Alan Partridge with Iannucci. It also stars Richard Ayoade also starred in Iannucci’s Time Trumpet just after being in Nathan Barley, and the fact that they used him in both shows makes sense. I can see some general similarities in the characters he plays in both shows; he is the perfect person to case when you want someone who can do a perfect job of really intelligently playing a really empty-headed character. And obviously he, Noel Fielding, and Julian Barrett had chemistry with each other from other projects. I know Ayoade was involved in the Mighty Boosh in some capacity, and they appear together so often that I assume they’d done other stuff together even before 2005 (obviously, they enjoyed their collaboration with Chris Morris enough to all work together again in The IT Crowd).

I’m not sure if this point is significant in any particular way, or if I just feel like it does because when I see patterns I can sometimes be compulsive about documenting them. But I feel like it’s relevant because 1) the fact that the two shows were created by people who’ve worked with each other a bunch of times probably contributes to other similarities I’ve listed – these creators have worked together because they have a similar style, and 2) the fact that both shows are populated by who’d worked with each other and those creators before contributes to the chemistry on the screen.

- Julian Barrett deserves a BAFTA for both of them. I realize he wasn’t in Avenue 5, but I’ve recently finished Nathan Barley and it’s left me feeling like he deserves a BAFTA for that also everything that’s been made since. Surely any show with any amount of edge to it has taken inspiration from from the way he played Dan Ashcroft in those last few episodes.

#nathan barley #avenue 5

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dustedmagazine · 4 years ago

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Dust, Volume 6, Number 10

The Slugs

September seemed to be the month when all the records on endless delay finally got kicked out the door, COVID or no, ready or not here we come. We’re deluged with music, some recorded before the world changed, some clearly cooked up mid-pandemic. There are a lot of covers EPs, lots of solo material, lots of home-made lo-fi, lots of benefit comps, and who are we to complain? Better, instead, to reach for the headphones, load up the hard drive, pile on the LPs and do some listening. Here’s some of the stuff that caught our attention, as usual ranging all over the continuum, from traditional to edgy and experimental, from silly pop punk to enraged death metal to bookish electro-acoustic improvisation. Contributors this time out included Jonathan Shaw, Patrick Masterson, Jennifer Kelly, Bill Meyer, Derek Taylor, Ray Garraty, Tim Clarke and Andrew Forell. Happy fall.

Amputation — Slaughtered in the Arms of God (Nuclear War Now!)

Slaughtered in the Arms of God by Amputation

Given the degree of smugness that accompanies utterances of the phrase “Old School Death Metal,” it’s frequently instructive to listen to some. Right on time, the misanthropic bunch at Nuclear War Now! has delivered some seriously Old School sounds to our digital doorstep. This new compilation LP gathers both of the demos of Norwegian knuckle-draggers Amputation, along with a contemporaneous rehearsal recording. Likely the resulting record will be of principal interest to fans of Immortal, the long-running, on-again-off-again Norwegian black metal band that Amputation would morph into in 1991. The songs collected on Slaughtered in the Arms of God have some additional musicological significance, as they document the sounds of 1989 and 1990, transformational years in Norway’s metal scene. Mayhem and Darkthrone tend to get most of the attention, for reasons both good and bad; and like Darkthrone, Amputation made death metal before transitioning to blacker, more brittle sounds. The music on Slaughtered in the Arms of God is muddy, thudding and thick. Perhaps that’s the result of the primitive recording tech the band used, likely of necessity. But through the murk (and to some degree because of it), you can hear the influence of Stockholm’s fecund death metal scene, especially Dismember’s earliest stuff. Scandinavia’s metal currents run deep and dark. Whether that means that Old School Death Metal is intrinsically a good thing is a different matter.

Jonathan Shaw

Anz — Loose in Twos (NRG) 12” (Hessle Audio)

Loos In Twos (NRG) by Anz

I love the idea of listening to DJ mixes of original or all-new material; it’s probably why I still value, say, Ricardo Villalobos’ Fabric 36 so much. Manchester’s Anna Marie-Odubote, aka Anz, has been doing just such a thing annually since 2015 and really went wild with spring/summer dubs 2020, which compiled 74 tracks into nearly an hour and a half of new music. That would’ve been more than enough amid all of this (imagine me gesturing around vaguely), but “Loos in Twos (NRG)” on the venerable Hessle Audio imprint is an equally formidable, decidedly tighter release I played a lot at the start of September. Three club-ready tracks here break down acid, jungle and footwork, and while all three are heady breaks, the looped vocals and bongo of “Stepper” make it the one for me. Get those feet moving digitally now so they’re comfortable once the vinyl arrives in early October.

Patrick Masterson

Ashes and Afterglow — Everybody Wants a Revolution (Postlude Paradox)

Ashes and Afterglow drops pop punk melodies into deep buckets of fuzz, lets them bubble and bob to the surface before shoving them under again. The band is mainly the output of one Luke Daniel, who appears to have been in other band called Sea of Orchids, but neither outfit has left much of an internet trail. And sure, this is the kind of thing that could easily get shuffled under; it breaks no moulds. And yet shuffling “To Take a Look at the World,” has a heart-worn resonance, Daniel’s voice echoing in reverbed hollow-ness against surging tides of guitar noise. “My Yesterday Girl” churns a little harder, with a bright, pop-leaning sort of hopefulness hedged in by seething feedback. It’s not bad, but it never hits a melodic vein the way that similarly inclined artists like Ted Leo or Ovlov or Tony Molina do, and it never pushes the noise over the top, either. Neither pop nor punk but somewhere in middle.

Jennifer Kelly

Ballister — Znachki Stilyag (Aerophonic)

Znachki Stilyag by Ballister

A cake is still a cake, whether you put chocolate frosting and strawberries or white icing and a fondant roses on top. And while they don’t all taste or look exactly the same, a Ballister album is still a Ballister album, and the first Ballister album in three years does not mess with the recipe. Dave Rempis (alto and tenor saxophones), Fred Lonberg-Holm (cello and electronics), and Paal Nilssen-Love (drums and percussion) still trade in a particularly hard-hitting form of total improvisation. The changes are ones of emphasis — Lonberg-Holm sounds like he’s using a wah-wah pedal and deploys some especially slashing feedback tones, there’s a bit more space in Nilssen-Love’s intricate beat configurations, and Rempis left his baritone sax at home — and of location. Znachki Stilyag was recorded during the fall of 2019 in Moscow, Russia, which may explain why the big horn stayed at home. But the ones you hear still cut and thrust with broadsword force and rapier precision. This is a cake you can trust.

Bill Meyer

Vincent Chancey — The Spell: The Vincent Chancey Trio Live, 1987 (No Business)

Vincent Chancey likely isn’t alone amongst his peers in feeling exasperated by folks singling out his instrument as uncommon or unusual to jazz. It’s a form of damning through faint praise and one that feel

s even more lackadaisical with any time spent with his music. Chancey plays the French horn and he’s plied it in settings as diverse as Sun Ra Arkestra, Lester Bowie’s Brass Fantasy and Charlie Haden’s Liberation Music Orchestra as well as gigs supporting Aretha Franklin and Elvis Costello. It’s unclear whether the trio documented on The Spell was a working concern, but that hardly matters given how well bassist Wilbur Morris and percussionist Warren Smith gel with their convener. Spread across two sides of an LP, the concert recorded at a New York City art gallery covers four pieces, two by Morris bookending one apiece from Smith and the leader that stitch together very much like cohesive suite. An unadvertised surprise comes with Smith’s ample application of marimba alongside a regular drum kit. Recording quality isn’t optimal, but Chancey’s rich, rounded, phrases gain extra gravitas through the sometimes-grainy acoustics. Woefully underrepresented in the driver’s seat discographically, his acumen as both improviser and composer is easily vindicated by this limited edition (300 copies) release.

Derek Taylor

Che Chen — Tokyo 17.II.2012 (self-released)

Tokyo 17.II.2012 by Che Chen

Nowadays Che Chen has earned a measure renown as the guitar-playing half of 75 Dollar Bill, and all the praise is earned. But before that, he played a roomful of instruments in the True Primes, Heresy of the Free Spirit and duos with Robbie Lee, Tetuzi Akiyama and Chie Mukai. The through-lines to all these efforts is a willingness not to play things the way their supposed to be played, and a gift for supplying the right resonance in any setting. Since 75 Dollar Bill is a New York-based band made for social occasions, the COVID-19 lay-off has been especially hard — so there’s no better time to see what’s in those hard drives in the closet, right? Chen has released this solo concert from 2012 via Bandcamp. In Tokyo for a brief layover, he played amplified violin at a party held in the basement of someone’s apartment building. The amplified part is important; dips and swells of feedback count as much as in this 25-minute performance as the fiddle’s bright, plucked notes and rough, bowed tones. Chen moves purposefully from one mode to next, taking time along the way to savor the room’s lively acoustics.

Bill Meyer

Jeff Cosgrove/ John Medeski/ Jeff Lederer — History Gets Ahead of the Story (Grizzley Music)

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Odds are that even the estimable William Parker would be surprised by the prospect of a William Parker cover album. But that’s essentially what History Gets Ahead of the Story is as organized and realized by drummer Jeff Cosgrove. That the project is the province of an organ trio only adds to the potential consternation quotient. John Medeski officiates the Hammond B-3 console and saxophonist Jeff Lederer, doubling on flute, completes the combo convened by Cosgrove. The latter’s connections to Parker stem from a trio he was part of with the bassist/composer and pianist Matthew Shipp that disbanded in 2015 after fruitful collaboration. Parker’s personage and music left an indelible mark and the seeds for the present album were sown. Collective creative license doesn’t get in the way of soulful, energizing renderings of such staples as “O’Neal’s Porch,” “Corn Meal Dance” and “Wood Flute Songs,” but troika also cedes time for a triptych of strong originals that align aurally with their dedicatee’s inclusive tone world sensibilities.

Derek Taylor

Derelenismo Occulere — Inexorable Revelación (Le Legione Projets)

Inexorable Revelacion (FULL LENGHT 2020) by Derelenismo Occulere

This sounds like a rehearsal gone wrong. In the time of the COVID pandemic, Neo Apolion, a guy responsible for the music in this Ecuadorean duo, recorded a demo and sent it to the band’s vocalist Malduchryst with a message to do with it whatever he wants. Malduchryst took his band partner’s words all too literally. With complete disregard to the music he began vomiting a noisy, messy mass of screams to a microphone (has he never heard of a black metal with no vocals?). If it sounds totally batshit, you can rest assured that it is. This is what makes Inexorable Revelación actually great black metal. When a lot of metal bands these days are just Backstreet Boys with leather jackets on and with guitars, Derelenismo Occulere care about only fury and mayhem. Their Argentinean mix man Ignacio only adds more chaos to the album. The only flaw this tape has is that it is 15 minutes too long.

Ray Garraty

Whit Dickey — Morph (ESP-Disk)

Morph by Whit Dickey

Drummer Whit Dickey and pianist Matthew Shipp have been recurrent partners since the early 1990s, when they were both members of the David S. Ware Quartet. It’s fair to say that each man is a known quantity to the other, and that one of the things they know about each other is that they might still be surprised by the other’s playing. Dickey’s retreated from time to time in order to revise his approach, and while Shipp has often threatened to quit recording over the years, he has never stopped working or evolving. This double disc combines one duo CD and another that adds trumpeter Nate Wooley to the pair. Wooley’s done a number of dates with Shipp in recent times, but he and Dickey were musical strangers before they entered Park West Studios in March 2019. Without Wooley, Shipp and Dickey seem very free and trusting of each other, transitioning with dreamlike ease from abstracted gospel to sideways swing to restless co-rumination this the ease. The trio seems more considered. The trumpeter dips quite sparingly into his extended technique bag, favoring instead linear statements that instigate fleet perambulations from the pianist and more supportive, less overtly dialogic contributions from the drummer. Both sessions work, and their differences complement each other quite handily.

Bill Meyer

Dropdead — S/T (Armageddon)

Dropdead 2020 by Dropdead

Yep, it’s that Dropdead, the Providence-based powerviolence band that hasn’t released a proper LP since 1998 and was on a long hiatus through much of the 21st century. Since 2011, Dropdead has put out a string of splits, with heavyweights like Converge and Brainoil. But a whole record? Maybe the unrelentingly shitty condition of our political and economic conjuncture motivated the four guys in the band (three of whom have been affiliated with Dropdead since 1991) to write the 23 burners, rants and breakdown-heavy hardcore tunes you’ll hear across Dropdead’s 25 minutes. It’s a welcome addition. Bob Otis’s voice doesn’t have the shredding quality of days of yore — but that ends up being useful. You can hear the lyrics, and they’re drenched in venom and righteousness. The rest of the band hasn’t lost a step. Pretty impressive for a bunch of guys with that much grey in their beards. That said, they don’t pull any intergenerational, “we’re-older-and-wiser” moves. This is still music that wants to collapse boundaries, between stage and mosh pit, between races and genders, between species, even. Not so much class positions: “Warfare State,” “United States of Corruption,” “Will You Fight?” Late capitalism’s depredations still bear the principal brunt of the band’s anger. Things have gotten worse, and Dropdead respond in kind. They may be a lot older, but they’re even more pissed off.

Jonathan Shaw

Fake Laugh — Waltz (State 51 Conspiracy)

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Earlier this year, Kamran Khan released his second Fake Laugh album, the charming, playful Dining Alone, which made its way into Dusted’s mid-year round-up of favorites released in the first half of 2020. Khan’s third album, Waltz, is a very different beast, featuring just piano, vocals and the odd keyboard texture, casting his songwriting in sharp relief. Undoubtedly created in this stripped-down way out of lockdown necessity, it’s hard to listen to these wistful, melancholic songs without imagining where Khan’s knack for colorful arrangements might take them, given the chance. (As a tease, closing song “Amhurst” offers up a shimmering electronic melody and some sighing synth chords.) There’s no doubting Khan’s way with a tune, and his naked vocal, though occasionally showing strain, suits the mood. It’s understated and undeniably lovely, yet Waltz feels like a minor release for this talented artist.

Tim Clarke

David Grubbs / Taku Unami — Comet Meta (Blue Chopsticks)

Comet Meta by David Grubbs & Taku Unami

In the 23 years since Gastr Del Sol fell apart, David Grubbs has done many things that don’t sound much like his old band with Jim O’Rourke. And Taku Unami has worked in such varied settings and ways that the most persistent quality of his engagement with sound is its ability to induce question marks and ellipses in any train of thought intending to decode it. So, it’s both remarkable and delightful that this record, the duo’s second collaboration, sounds rather like parts of Gastr Del Sol’s Upgrade & Afterlife. The foundation rests upon the way two guys who can and do play intricate guitar duets make subtle use of other elements — creeping acoustic piano, humming synthesizer, urban field recordings — to make music that thickens atmosphere and accumulates mystery with such subtlety that you don’t notice it until you’re in it.

Bill Meyer

Guided by Voices — Mirrored Aztec (Guided by Voices Inc.)

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I know, I know, it’s another Guided by Voices record, the fifth since 2019, but hear me out. Pollard is still tapped into the fuzzy, rackety, melodic sap of the rock and roll universe, and he has only to knock his hammer a few times against the gnarled tree of life to extract more of what sustains us. Shorter version: he can do this all day, every day, without any noticeable let-up in quality. So, let us celebrate another batch of Who-like power chords, of rumbling drums and monumental bass thuds, of melodies that curve out delicately like spring’s first vines, then thicken into thundering climaxes and triumphant refrains. Let us give thanks again for inscrutable lyrics that drift off into poetry then pull back in the most ordinary artifacts of the spoken word. “I Think I Had It. I Think I Have It,” crows Pollard in a voice that has been blasted by time but come out more or less intact, and yes, Bob, you still do.

Jennifer Kelly

Edu Haubensak & Tomas Korber — Works for Guitar & Percussion (Ezz-thetics)

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The celebrated Wandelweiser aesthetic serves as a loose overarching impetus for the four interpretations of compositions by Edu Haubensak and Tomas Korber that comprise Works for Guitar & Percussion. Classical guitarist Christian Buck and improvising percussionist Christian Wolfarth ply their instruments through pairing and isolation. Essayist Andy Hamilton describes context by delineating a distinction between music (based in the language of tones) and soundart (which is non-tonal) and placing the duo’s interpretations in the opaque border between these realms. Repetition and timbral disparity frame Haubensak’s “On” while Korber’s “Aufhebung” applies scrutiny to microtonal diversity and temporal impermanence. Wolfarth fields Korber’s “Weniger Weiss” from behind snare drum, trading recurring stick rolls with varying segments of silence that compel ears accustomed to Western musical structures to consciously fill in the blanks. Haubensak’s solo “Refugium” finds Buck bending two closely tuned strings in an extrapolation of an Arabic maqam that feels tenuously connected to the form, at best.

Derek Taylor

Inseclude — Inseclude (Inseclude)

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Brad MacAllister of CTRL and Blue Images and Benjamin Londa of Exit have been working in the darkwave and chillwave scenes for several years and their first album as Inseclude is a long distance collaboration that mines the darker side of 1980s alternative and electronic rock. From Pennsylvania, MacAllister sent musical ideas to Londa in Texas who added guitars, lyrics and vocals to produce a set of songs that are well made and enjoyable if largely unmemorable. There are a number of contemporary bands doing similar things — Hamilton’s Capitol and Manchester’s Ist spring immediately to mind — taking the Cure, New Order, Sisters of Mercy template and why not? Unfortunately, the passage of time and the law of diminishing returns have led to overfamiliarity with this style of music that makes for easy and perhaps unfair comparisons. When they stretch themselves, Inseclude’s songs do hit. “Sondera” and “Failing To The Pulse” carry some real menace with the juxtaposition of wide-angle synths and paranoid vocals but elsewhere the pair seem held back by a restraint and lack of bottom end that diminish the impact of some pretty decent songs.

Andrew Forell

Kvalia — Scholastic Dreams Of Forceful Machines (Old Boring Russia)

Схоластические Грёзы Силовых Машин by Квалиа

Krasnoyarsk sits on the banks of the Yenisei river in southern Siberia and is known both for the natural beauty of its surrounding landscape and for its primacy as an aluminum producer. Local musicians Aleksander Maznichenko and Aleksey Danilenko reflect the latter on their new five track EP Scholastic Dreams Of Forceful Machines, an icy, metallic collection of post-industrial clang pitched somewhere between Einstürzende Neubauten and early Clock DVA. Their machines are forceful but cranky, rusted, near obsolete. Maznichenko keeps the thrum of turbines is steady but the drum machines lurch and thump, the keyboards whine and scream, the Russian vocals protest their obstreperous charges. Danilenko’s bass is post-punk elastic skipping amongst the raining sparks hinting at a will to dance with his mutant riffs. They sound like they mean it and the result is a terrific EP full of fire, fumes, steam and sweat.

Andrew Forell

Mezzanine Swimmers — Kneelin’ on a Knife (Already Dead)

Kneelin' on a Knife by Mezzanine Swimmers

These songs circle around noise-crusted, repetitive beats, the drumming stiff and mechanical, the riffs chopped to short bursts, the vocals woozy and distended. “Sexy Apology” reiterates a three-note keyboard lick ad infinitum, as main Swimmer Mike Smith drawls the title phrase, similarly on repeat. Yet within this unchanging structure, chaos erupts in detuned keyboards, miasmic feedback and corrosive noise. It’s hard to say whether these songs are too tightly organized or too loose, a bit of both really, and yet, get past the headachy thud and there’s an unhinged psychotropic transport. No one ever said that kneeling on knives would be comfortable.

Jennifer Kelly

Mosca — The Optics (Rent)

Mosca · The Optics [RENT001]

Part of the initial wave of neon-infused dubstep hedonism surrounding the Night Slugs camp at the turn of the last decade, Mosca’s Tom Reid has since survived on the strength of a regular slot behind the decks at NTS and sparingly deployed releases on such renowned labels as Numbers, Rinse, Hypercolour and Livity Sound. “The Optics” debuts his new Rent imprint, conceived as a way to get out music that doesn’t fit in elsewhere. (Originally, this was to be an a-side for a coming AD93 release, but as he says, “There's only so long you can keep a track with a baby crying in it back from the masses.”) Supposedly inspired by the Under the Skin beach scene, the five-minute track immediately throws you off with a dub-heavy shuffle and metallic, alien sounds that zoom around the mix. The main thrust of the melody arrives around a minute in, and gradually the sounds close in on you. There’s bells, birds, a baby crying and then, just when you’re feeling completely stressed out, it all falls away; a driving jungle rhythm carries you the rest of the way. Deeply satisfying dance from a head who hasn’t lost his way.

Patrick Masterson

Prana Crafter/ragenap — No Ear to Hear (Centripetal Force Studio/Cardinal Fuzz)

No Ear to Hear by Prana Crafter / ragenap

When Robert Hunter, the poet who wrote lyrics for the Grateful Dead’s “Dark Star,” “Ripple,” “Truckin’,” “Terrapin Station” and many other songs, died in late 2019, long form psych musicians Prana Crafter (William Sol) and ragenap (Joel Berk) mourned separately but simultaneously. The night he died, both took solace in improvised music, which didn’t so much evoke or represent Hunter, but captured some of their feelings about his work and their loss. When they talked, soon after, they found that both had made lengthy open-ended meditations on the same person. Those two extended pieces make up No Ear to Hear. Prana Crafter’s entry, “Beggar’s Tomb,” is weighted and slow moving, building gradually from simmering drones into towering edifices of feedback and dissonance. Although performed largely on guitar, the sound is filtered through gleaming effects and layers into astral strangeness, a mystic’s trip through mental interiors. ragenap’s “Nightfall” also takes shape slowly out of looming sustained notes and black velvet quiet and sounds that scratch and vibrate at the edges. A solitary acoustic guitar takes up space at the forefront finally, carving a hesitant melody across the hum. The tune turns fuller and more agitated as it progresses, adding layers of feedback and distortion. Neither of these pieces sounds much like the Grateful Dead, and of course, neither has any sort of lyrics. I doubt that anyone, hearing this album for the first time would say, “Oh yeah, Robert Hunter.” And yet inspiration works in strange and, in this case, fruitful ways. You can enjoy this even if you don’t like the Dead.

Jennifer Kelly

Raven Throne — Viartannie (Chroniki Źmiainaj Ciemry) (self-released)

Viartannie (Chroniki Źmiainaj Ciemry) /The Return (The Chronicles of the Serpent Darkness) by RAVEN THRONE

These Belorussian black metal veterans are true materialists. On their seventh album, they show that nature is a social construct, not something given. And boy, their nature is not a loving mother. Unlike many metal bands convey nature via field recordings, Raven Throne craft their ferocious sounds with guitars and drums. Aren’t these as natural instruments as stone and wooden sticks? The atmospheric black metal subgenre has been contaminated by pop and folksy metal so that it’s hard to maintain a truly evil sound, while still bringing the atmospheric elements into it. Raven Throne pull it off. This is how darkness should sound.

Ray Garraty

The Slugs — Don’t Touch Me I’m Too Slimy (2214099 Records DK)

Don't Touch Me, I'm Too Slimy by The Slugs

The Slugs are an exuberantly lo-fi punk pop duo out of London who bash and thump and shout short, acidic ditties about being female, in a band, under assault and under the weather. Liberty Hodes, who is also one half of the comedy duo A Comedy Night that Passes the Bechdel Test, plays a jangling, forceful electric guitar, while her Phoebe Dighton-Brown bangs away in brutal simplicity on the drums. Both sing, sometimes in unison, sometimes in rough harmonies, occasionally in slashing counterparts. (One chants “Feel sick/can’t be sick” while the other rolls out mellifluous “ah-ah-ah-ahs” in “Feel Sick.”) There is a charming, unstudied quality to their music, which is a bit too smart and biting to be primitive, but nonetheless eschews frills. It’s hard to pick favorites—the whole EP is over in five tracks and 11 minutes—but “Pest” is giddy fun, with its slouching, battering guitar-drum motif and slacker choruses. The shout along chorus of “Don’t touch me! I’m too slimy!” is the best thing on the record, hitting a rebellious, unwashed spot of resonance in the work-from-home era. Second best, the gleeful tirade about sleazy male promoters in “Girly Gang” (“Give you all the gigs if you touch my wang”), which builds in round-singing euphorias until it ends suddenly and a la Jane Austen in matrimony (“Married in a dress by Vera Wang”). People are comparing the Slugs to the Shaggs, but that’s just short-hand for banging away anyway without all the training. The Slugs are smarter, slyer and more autonomous, and if they sound a little rough, that’s exactly how they meant to sound.

Jennifer Kelly

Tobin Sprout — Empty Horses (Fire)

Empty Horses by Tobin Sprout

Blessed with one of the finest names in music (alongside dEUS’s Klaas Janzoons), Tobin Sprout is best known for being part of the Guided by Voices line-up that created classic albums such as Bee Thousand and Alien Lanes in the 1990s. Though Sprout’s subsequent solo output has been a steady stream compared to Robert Pollard’s deluge, Empty Horses is his eighth solo album. In it, the now-65-year-old ruminates faith, mortality and American history atop a spare, country-tinged backing. There’s a deep ache to many of these songs, the kind of emotional weight that manifests in pointedly low tempos, sparse drum parts that hang behind the beat and vocal performances that are almost uncomfortably intimate. Running to a succinct half-hour, with many of the songs clocking in at just a couple of minutes each, Empty Horses confronts demons seemingly too pernicious to overcome. Yet, when the music becomes more expansive — such as the graceful pedal steel of “Breaking Down,” the woozy modulation of “Antietam,” or the biting fuzztone of “All In My Sleep” — Sprout sounds like he may be on the verge of making a much-needed breakthrough.

Tim Clarke

Son Lux — Tomorrows I (City Slang)

Tomorrows I by Son Lux

Son Lux’s songs embed unsettling sounds in deep wells of silence, finding disturbing textures in string sounds, electronics, percussion and the fluttering soul falsetto of founder Ryan Lott. Tomorrows I, reportedly the first of three related albums, has a quietly dystopian vibe and a moist, echoing unease that might remind of you Burial’s classic Untrue. A brief, looped, keening violin motif punctures the opening cut, “Plans We Made” with all the threat of Bernhard Hermann’s shower music for the film Psycho, while Lott trills haunted phrases about being afraid to let go. “Undertow,” near the end, brings in a whole string quartet to swoon dissonantly, as a knocking beat (drummer Ian Chang) sounds like a body being dragged across the floor. “Just waiting for the undertow,” sings Lott in the dread empty spaces between, in arias of muted desolation. Minimalist and menacing and mesmerizing.

Jennifer Kelly

Ulaan Janthina — Ulaan Janthina (Part 1) (Worstward)

Ulaan Janthina (Part I) by Ulaan Janthina

Steven R. Smith contains multitudes, and Ulaan Janthina is the latest manifestation of his mutating musical self. This release exemplifies three aspects of Smith’s practice. First, he likes to make beautiful things. Hard copies of this tape come in a custom-oriented box that contains tinted photos, shells and printed communications as well as the cassette. And he’s project-oriented. While other iterations have been devoted to an Eastern European vibe, or guitar noise or a virtual ensemble sound, Ulaan Janthina results from a decision to work primarily with the keyboards in his house. It’s a winning strategy, since his synthesizers, organ and harmonium all benefit from the grittiness of Smith’s recording methodology, and his spare playing style makes his melodies stand out quite starkly from the background atmosphere. Like the name says, this is part one of the Janthina (named for a genus of sea snail that makes its own floating platform — not a bad metaphor for the survival-oriented independent musician) venture; a second, similarly packaged cassette is pending from Smith’s Worstward imprint soon, and a future release is already planned by Soft Abuse records.

Bill Meyer

Various Artists — Spr Blk: Liberation Jazz and Soul From the '70s and Beyond (Paxico)

Liberation Jazz and Soul by Marcus J. Moore

Author Marcus J. Moore (late of The Nation but also found everywhere from Pitchfork to WaPo) has a book on the way in October, The Butterfly Effect: How Kendrick Lamar Ignited the Soul of Black America. In advance of its release via cassette devotees Paxico, Moore cobbled together “rare and somewhat familiar” Black music from his own crates. “These are the kinds of songs I play when walking through New York City or driving through Maryland,” he says in the release. What that means for you is a two-sided mix that burns slower on the A and gets more percussion-heavy on the B. Leading off with Doug Carn’s fittingly titled “Swell Like a Ghost” and featuring jams from Willie Dale, Milton Wright, Ronald Snijders and other lesser jazz, soul and funk lights, it’s a revealing mix that will no doubt pair well with that fall reading you’re about to get going on.

Patrick Masterson

Vatican Shadow — Persian Pillars of the Gasoline Era (20 Buck Spin)

Persian Pillars Of The Gasoline Era by Vatican Shadow

Dominick Fernow is hugely prolific, and most folks with ears tuned to the densely churning worlds of noise and industrial music will be familiar with his abrasive, unsettling output under the Prurient moniker. Fernow’s releases as Vatican Shadow are fewer in number, and more attuned to ambient, even melodic movements and textures. That’s sort of odd, given that the Vatican Shadow records thematize and explore Fernow’s obsession with the history of the Middle East, especially post-9/11 collisions of Western military force, Islamic traditions of resistance and the tactics of terror used by both sides. Relaxing stuff, that ain’t. Consistent with the larger project’s tendencies, Persian Pillars of the Gasoline Era claims an interest in the CIA-coordinated Iranian coup (MI6 helped out, too, those imperial scamps) that deposed Mohammed Mossadeq, installed the Shah Reza Pahlavi and inaugurated some of the principal tensions that have shaped the last half-century of world history. It’s unclear how Fernow’s pulsing, shimmering, sometimes juddering synth sounds are meant to represent or otherwise engage that history. For sure, record art and song titles summon all the right semiotics, sometimes with an interesting edge. But “Taxi Journey through the Teeming Slums of Tehran” sounds more like a malfunctioning MP3 player than a taxi or a “teeming slum” (can we all be done with that phrase now?), and “Moving Secret Money” is pleasantly trance-inducing, rather than insidiously evil. Musically, it’s quite good. The packaging seems to want strike other notes. Maybe that’s the point — too many folks are too busy consuming quietist pop to bother with the grind of the political. But is this the intervention we need?

Jonathan Shaw

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straw-hat-moro · 5 years ago

Photo

Dodie Clark, photographed by Linda Blacker

#dodie #doddleoddle #dodie clark #look #i have been searching for this photo #for i rather not tell but a long time #to reblog it #and i didnt #so i found it on the internet #and now im posting it here #and all that just because #im feeling gay for dodie #sue me #me talk

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forgenotes-archived · 5 years ago

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VERONICA ROSE SAWYER AND THE MUSIC OF ST VINCENT .

word count : 3,006 . trigger warnings for : child abuse / neglect , depression , self harm , suicide , murder .

there are a few points that i will be ignoring - namely , clarke’s music does have a heavy focus on catholicism that ronnie , as a jewish woman , won’t relate to necessarily on a literal level . i might purposely misinterpret some of the more catholic songs , but for the most part , i’ll just . . . skip over that shit , lol .

of course , not every song of hers makes perfect sense with veronica , but there are a substantial amount that really hit home for characterization purposes . i’ll be pretty brief about them mostly due to the fact that this is going to be long enough but !

please enjoy a massive post about veronica’s most influential muse inspiration , st vincent , and how each song sparks a different facet of her characterization , personality , and history .

ALBUM ONE - MARRY ME .

*** NOW , NOW . this song is one of five songs that truly cuts to the very core of veronica’s persona . it is written as a cutting dismantlement of preconceived notions ; and while that in a general sense does apply to her , it pulls apart as a particularly embittered attack on heather chandler . with the deconstruction of her worth to her ( i’m not your mother’s favourite dog / i’m not the carpet you walk on / i’m not the feather at your feet / i’m not the paw to your king / i’m not anyone you’ll beat ) , it harkens to her rebellion and powerful nature that’s been crushed under heather’s heel . the chorus and final lines of the song draw perfect parallels to her and heather’s fight at the party , and the inevitable death - you don’t mean that , say you’re sorry / i’ll make you sorry . this track is desperately dramatically perfectly attached to my interpretation of ronnie .

*** YOUR LIPS ARE RED . this goes along almost chronologically with above - this song is about murder , explicitly ; and by god does that ever track ! particular lyrics of note are : this city’s red from riding us into the ground / your face is drawn from drawing words right from my lips / my hands are red from sealing your red lips / your skin’s so fair , it’s not fair . the narrative of the song leads towards a crime of passion ; anger and hate towards someone with some sort of power over them , and the eventual revenge for their ( perceived ) mistreatment . veronica doesn’t feel as bad as she should that heather’s gone ; a part of her feels satisfied , and that’s the part that this song exemplifies .

THE APOCALYPSE SONG . embracing the carnal nature of life and cutting away from those who refuse to ( or are too afraid to ) join you - in a more subdued sense , it’s similar to what veronica does in cutting loose from her friends ; and further still , ostracizing herself from her family to build a more spectacular life for herself and jason . important lyrics to note : you’ll awake with the stitches over both of your eyes , and deny me my body and all earthly delights / i guess you are afraid of what everyone is made of / your devotion has the look of a lunatic’s gaze .

LANDMINES . in terms of the tragedy of the beginnings of her and jason’s relationship - when he spirals into the worst parts of his plans , she is desperate to try and lure him back to the better side . it’s sadness , it’s hope without reason , it’s painful . important lyrics to note : i’m crawling through landmines just to know where you are / there’s smoke in my eyes , ‘cause you’re burning the ground / i’m crawling through landmines - i know , ‘cause i planted them / under cover of night , i put my heart in the ground / where’d you go ? please don’t go / i found your glove with the leather torn , five fingers that i’m counting on , smoke signals to call you right here .

ALBUM TWO - ACTOR .

THE STRANGERS . clarke said she’d written this song about a woman who’s spoiled by decadence and leisure , but is desperately sad by her situation . which , in all honesty , fits veronica to a t - exhausted by the picturesque garden , and unwilling to continue being trimmed to fit in paradise . important lyrics to note : lover , i don’t play to win , but for the thrill ‘till i’m spent / you showed up with a black eye , ready to go start a fight / desperate don’t look good on you , neither does your virtue / paint the black hole blacker .

THE NEIGHBOURS . the song paints a picture of a hatred of suburban sedentary lifestyles ; partial arson , partial alcoholism , all very accurate to the way ronnie feels being stuck in sherwood ohio . important lyrics to note : let’s pour wine in coffee cups and drive around the neighbourhood / i won’t believe not a word you speak just make it sweet to hear / these kids are foaming at the mouths , psychotropic capricorns / how can monday be alright , then on tuesday lose my mind ?

* BLACK RAINBOW . this is a portrait of one person in their isolation of an elevated comprehension above the brainwashed masses of average american life - the loneliness in their own self - aggrandizing thought processes , but also the pangs of hopelessness when they know that they’re still right . veronica is allowed an understanding that her parents and these remington assholes have chosen to ignore . important lyrics to note : think i’m glass , think i’m breaking it / let the children act like furniture for the ladies of the lawn / unkissed boys and girls of paradise lining up around the block / back pocket full of dynamite while the neighbours talk and talk / bird outside the kitchen , fighting his reflection , what’s he gonna win when he wins ? / if you want the neighbours woke , you’ll have to shout even louder .

* LAUGHING WITH A MOUTH OF BLOOD . clarke has described this song as a balancing act between the pain of the past and the uncertainty of the future , and the desperation that’s found when those two roads meet . ronnie’s got scars she’s healing from , but she’s also got no idea why and how to keep on living afterwards . important lyrics to note : just like an amnesiac , trying to get my senses back / laughing with a mouth of blood from a little spill i took / all my old friends aren’t so friendly , and all my old haunts are now haunting me / i can’t see the future but i know it’s watching me .

MARROW . a vague song , but one that resonates deeper with ronnie than she expected through its undertones of feeling as though she’s not in control of her body . important lyrics to note : i wish i had a gentle mind and spine made up of iron / mouth connects to the teeth and teeth to the loves and the curses / so i pretend there aren’t ten strings tied to all ten of my fingers .

THE PARTY . a dreamscape of a song that touches on her subtle alcoholism and desperation for connections that never come . veronica’s coping mechanisms lead her into bad habits in order to make connections , but ultimately leave her completely floundering after everything’s over . important lyrics to note : i’d pay anything to keep my conscience clean / there aren’t enough hands to point all the fingers / i lick the ice cube from your empty glass / honey , the party , you went away quickly / i’ve said much too much and they’re trying to sweep up .

* JUST THE SAME BUT BRAND NEW . this song is a floating heartbreak , following the descent into depression st vincent falls into after losing somebody she loves - did she do something wrong ? where do i go from now ? how do i fill this hole in my heart ? veronica feels this on a lesser level towards her friends , however few she may have had ; but in its fullest extent after jd , because despite everything ( fear , pain , abuse ) , she still loves him for what she thought she had . important lyrics to note : so i walked away all perfumed , felt just the same but brand new / and anything you wrote i checked for codes and clues / i changed my ‘a’s and ‘i’s to yours / i do my best impression of weightlessness now too / i might be wrong , i might be wrong , i might be wrong , but honey i believed i could just float away , dangling .

ALBUM THREE - STRANGE MERCY .

* CHEERLEADER . a determined cry to reject the role being forced upon her ; a final stand to shed the expectations thrown over her , while also reminiscing on how these constraints have forced veronica to become afraid of being vulnerable . important lyrics to note : i’ve had good times with some bad guys / i’ve told whole lies with a half smile / i don’t know what good it serves , pouring my purse in the dirt / i’ve played dumb when i knew better / i don’t know what i deserve , but your you i could work / i don’t wanna be a cheerleader no more , i don’t wanna be a dirt eater no more .

DILETTANTE . a brutal cutting slice of her and jason dean’s relationship - a desire to stay , but a desperation to bring their passion back down to earth . partially a love song , trying to preserve their fire without burning up ; partially a lament about overcoming the fear of stagnation . important lyrics to note : nobody’s winning , the sharks are swimming in the red / while you are sleeping , my mind goes creaking down the wall / slow down dilettante so i can limp beside you , i’m following your houndstooth / street savant , my bank in my back pocket , how far you think it’d take us ? / but let’s not forget why we crawled here .

ALBUM FOUR - ST VINCENT .

* PRINCE JOHNNY . this is the second song in a trilogy about an archetype of a friend clarke has named “ johnny ” - this particular angle focuses on the helpless desperation to stop someone you care about from falling down a dangerous , self - destructive path . in veronica’s eyes , jason is her prince johnny . important lyrics to note : prince johnny , you’re kind but you’re not simple , by now , i think i know the difference / saw you pray to all to make you a real boy / prince johnny , you’re kind , but do be careful / don’t mistake my affection for another spit - and - penny style redemption / i wanna mean more than i mean to you .

DIGITAL WITNESS . a cutting dialogue on the desperation for popularity ; in modern day , it’s a critique of social media and societal pressures , but in terms of veronica’s timeline , it doubles as a light on westerburg’s obsession with their queen bees . important lyrics to note : i want all of your mind / if i can’t show it , if you can’t see me , what’s the point of doing anything ? / this is no time for confessing / if you can’t see me , watch me jump right off the london bridge / get back to your stare , i care , but i don’t care / what’s the point of even sleeping ? so i stop sleeping / won’t somebody sell me back to me ?

REGRET . a self - explanatory song , in all reality ; you are afraid to move , and your anxiety keeps you away from opportunity - before you even realize you’ve wasted your potential , you’re doomed . veronica is trapped in a vicious cycle that won’t allow her to spread her wings ; fear begets fear , and life moves on without her . important lyrics to note : memories so bright i gotta squint just to recall / regret the words i’ve bitten more than the ones i ever said / i’m afraid of heaven because i can’t stand the heights / i’m afraid of you because i can’t be left behind / oh well , there’s a red moon rising / the door slammed and it felt like a cannonball .

ALBUM FIVE - MASSEDUCTION .

SUGARBOY . a mashup of a love song and an ode to vicious bisexuality ; a heart that is sharp and easy to slice yourself open on , but a reciprocal appreciation of the danger that comes with falling for someone . ronnie’s sugarboy is jason ; but she also learns to acknowledge that she wouldn’t have minded finding a sugargirl , either . important lyrics to note : sugarboy , i am weak , got a crush on tragedy / oh here i go - a tragedy , hanging off from the balcony / making a scene , oh here i am , your pain machine / sugargirl , dissolve in me , got a crush from kicked - in teeth / pledge all your allegiance to me / i am a lot like you , i am alone like you .

* LOS AGELESS . again - a mashup of a love song , and a loss of all autonomy . what have you lost ; a lover , or your sense of self ? veronica’s lost both , and she doesn’t know what else to do but fall into the ease of her prison position , following the orders of someone who claims to know better than she does . important lyrics to note : burn the pages of unwritten memoires , but i can keep running / but how can i leave ? i just follow the hood of my car / how can anybody have you and lose you and not lose their mind , too ? / i guess that’s just me , honey - i guess that’s how i’m built / i try to tell you i love you , but it comes out all sick / i try to write you a love song , but it comes out a lament .

SLOW DISCO . finding yourself in the crowd of a party , but not liking who you see - a contrast between the life you should be living , and the life you’re actually living . veronica falls to one side more than the other , and by trying to find herself in other people , she’s doing herself a grave disservice that leaves her feeling almost as if she’s a ghost . important lyrics to note : am i thinking what everybody else is thinking ? i’m so glad i came but i can’t wait to leave / slip my hand from your hand , leave you dancing with a ghost / there’s blood in my ears and a fool in the mirror / the bay of mistakes can’t get any clearer / don’t it beat a slow dance to death ?

* SMOKING SECTION . self - destruction . self harm . the call of the void . suicidal urges . it’s a song about trying to overcome these feelings by giving them a name , and remembering that they’re thoughts you can work through . veronica’s felt them her entire life . important lyrics to note : sometimes i sit in the smoking section , hoping one rogue spark will land in my direction / and when you stomp me out i’ll scream and i’ll shout “ let it happen , let it happen , let it happen ” / sometimes i stand with a pistol in hand / sometimes i stand on the edge of my roof , and i think i’ll jump just to punish you / and then i think , what could be better than love ? / it’s not the end , it’s not the end , it’s not the end , it’s not the end .

BONUS LEVEL - LOVE THIS GIANT .

* ICE AGE . written as a prequel of sorts to cheerleader off her album strange mercy , clarke has said it’s a get it together song of sorts . veronica’s in her own ice age ; she’s frozen over to protect herself , but in doing so , she’s deprived herself of the experience of living . important lyrics to note : oh , diamond , it’s such a shame to see you this way , your own little ice age / seams are showing , and you’re freaking me out / we don’t know how much we’ve lost until the winter thaws / it’s close to your bones , it’s far from your shell / feel it away , reason it out .

#❝ - 𝙄𝙏 '𝙎 𝘼 𝙂𝙊𝙊𝘿 𝙆𝙄𝙉𝘿 𝙊𝙁 𝙎𝘼𝘿 . / meta.#ok i just really love st vincent????#GOD i hope this stays under the cut when i post it since im dash only.....#P R A Y F O R M E #if not i will simply copy it into a doc and post a link #there was a POWERFUL LINE in a song that i just. couldn't justify keeping- but FUCK #in huey newton; the line 'fake knife / real ketchup' strikes me as a HUGE ronnie vibe #but like. the rest of the song is too disconnected to attach to her iuhrtkjgnd #and with THAT.... i fucking DISAPPEAR.....#and i made myself.... Anxious lol

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halysborn · 8 years ago

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tag dump pt.01 CHARACTERS

#DICK • the bird that feels the light when the dawn is still dark #SLADE • a tiger does not shout its tigritude.#JASON • the grime of the journey feels like armor. he earned the dirt. respect. the dirt.#TIM • fearless in the pursuit of what sets his soul on fire #DAMIAN • on the hunt for who he has not yet become #BRUCE • what do you say to atlas who holds the world aloft?#BARBARA • she wasn’t looking for a knight she was looking for a sword #TERRY • bats are safe in the cave but that’s not what bats are born for #ROY • we’ve earned the place at each other’s side #HARLEY • clever as the devil and twice as dangerous #CLARK • fight for the fairy tale #WALLY • we know each other as we always were #KORI • the kind of queen that knows the crown isn’t on her head but in her soul #DIANA • some are lost in their fires & others are forged in them #SELINA • her intuition is her super power #BLÜDHAVEN • oh beautiful town i remember you blacker than night

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mermaeids · 5 years ago

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NARCISSUS: CHAPTER 5

I FINALLY FINISHED THIS FIC!!

READ ON AO3 (read chapter one here)

Summary: Post-5x05. Basically, my version of 5x06 and on. The title comes from my post about Ovid’s Echo and Narcissus myth, in which Bellamy and Clarke are totally Narcissus.

THE END IT'S THE END!! i'm sorry it took me over a year to write this chapter (i literally have been agonizing over this on and off for this whole time) but i DID IT! thank you to everyone who stuck by this fic and who appreciated it from the beginning and those who came later (10k hits? that's crazy!) and i'm sorry it took this long for me to finish it. thank you, thank you, thank you!!!

CHAPTER SUMMARY: clarke and bellamy reach a turning point in their relationship as the battle with wonkru looms on the horizon.

CHAPTER FIVE: SKIN

The room went from gold, to burnt orange, to deep burgundy. The fire flickered low, making Bellamy’s hair richer than ink, his eyes blacker than space.

She now found comfort in them.

She had bled the sorrows from her veins, and he had six years’ worth of holding her hand to make up for. He had cried, too.

“I’m in awe of you,” he said now that her story had been told: the bird, the gun, the valley, and the girl. There was only one part Clarke had omitted. Bellamy, if you can hear me, if you’re alive…

She couldn’t stop looking at him. He was close, then closer.

It’s been 2,199 days since Praimfaya.

He glanced at her mouth. Her heartbeat skipped like a stone on flat water. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip.

He mirrored her.

It’s been safe for you to come down for over a year now.

Too real. Too fast.

Why haven’t you?

Clarke’s heart clenched. One wouldn’t be enough. Too fast.

“I’m tired,” she whispered.

Bellamy’s eyes widened for only a split second, then went soft. He swallowed. “I know.”

When she moved to get up, he took her arm. “You don’t have to help me,” she muttered.

“I know.” And then, gentle, “Let me.”

He walked her to her bed. “Sleep,” he said, and then he was across the room, settling on his cot.

“Good night,” she said.

“Good night,” he echoed.

Read the rest on AO3

#the 100 #bellarke #bellarke fanfiction #bellarke fic #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #i need to find the people who wanted to be tagged and tag them in this #sorry it's been an age #jules.txt #my writing #narcissus

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kloxbian · 5 years ago

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Blinded by Anger, Tore them Apart

Second part here

Synopsis:

~This is a prequel fic. If you read this without having read at least the second part of this series, you might not understand.~

They tell stories.

Heda and Wanheda, these mystical beings that inhabit the people on the ground, leading the twelve clans through their power.

But where did it all begin?

~Alternate Grounder history. Barely mentions Lexa and Clarke. The only known character who plays a big role in this is Bekka.~

WARNINGS: This story revolves around grounder religion and history. If you are sensitive about your religious beliefs or talk of religion, this is not for you. That being said, I am an atheist. This in no way promotes any real-life religion. Please do not assume I am saying ANYTHING about your beliefs.

Notes: Again, this is not modern-day. It's basically a history lesson (with grounder religion VERY present) of how the twelve clans were established, Heda and Wanheda, Polis, Bekka, all that good stuff.

Side note: I've changed Heda from a she to a he. Don't get confused.

It began with Praimfaya.

Worlds ago, when the bombs fell from the sky and descended upon the people of the earth, weapons of mass destruction unleashed that blew the world apart. Erased governments from existence, billions killed in seconds while others suffocated in the smoke left behind.

Some call it punishment for their sins. Most call it the consequence of technology.

Praimfaya: the result of machines. Weapons built by humans’ hands to operate on their own. Like the missiles or guns of the enemy, weapons that control themselves. Let too much control slip from your hands and you can destroy the entire world.

The people of the old world had many different beliefs. Some thought the world consisted of many different gods, in which each controlled a section of life. Others believed there was only a single god that ruled over everything and controlled whether you lived a good life or a bad one.

It is the belief that the world was created by a single being. Ogedufa, they are called, the almighty. It is believed they molded the earth and the creatures atop it and breathed life into their souls. It is believed that they are constantly watching, observing how their creations interact, how they spend their lives with such little time. The sun and the moon are his eyes, always watching, each representing all that contradicts. The sun and the moon; life and death; good and bad. Ogedufa is the creator of all, and they control every little thing that you see in your life.

After Praimfaya, Ogedufa realized that it wasn’t enough for them to watch. They cleared the land of smoke and ashes, found every human strong enough to survive and placed them all in the sacred lands to live once more. To make sure nothing like Praimfaya ever came about again, Ogedufa created two beings.

The first of his children was Heda. Heda was created to create order among the land, to rule the people in a way that there will never be such rebellion. To accomplish this, Heda was given the power of conviction. The Sun Siren, he can change mindsets, invade thoughts, and, if harnessed fully, Heda’s power could be used to brainwash.

Heda was sent to earth to find a host, a human worthy of holding his power and commanding the people back into life. He scoured the lands but found none that pleased him, and prayed to his creator Ogedufa to lead him to a suitable anchor. Ogedufa heard his son’s pleas and sent down from the heavens a woman, known by the name Bekka Pramheda, the first commander. Heda recognized this woman as his vessel and settled within her, his immense power dying her blood blacker than night.

This nightblood became the symbol of Heda. Children born with the blood of the night running through their veins were considered worthy hosts for Heda, possible successors to Bekka. When Bekka was slain, a decade after her ascension, she named her successor, a nightblood from the south named Catur. Upon Catur’s ascension, the other nightbloods became jealous, wanting Heda’s power for themself. Catur was challenged by every one, and they all were slain by her sword, thus birthing the tradition of the Conclave.

As the first host to Heda, Bekka could not keep the spirit contained. Heda was the incarnation of primacy and did not take kindly to disobedience. Heda slew any that dared even disrespect him. When Bekka witnessed Heda slaughter a child for accidentally tripping over her cloak, she took it upon herself to find a way to contain the spirit.

Bekka created the legendary flame, a device that could capture the spirit and imprison it within her. When Heda realized that he was trapped, his rage knew no bounds. He stole Bekka’s soul, ensuring that she would not reincarnate after death, but instead forever remain trapped within her own creation, destined to never escape Heda’s grasp.

Heda’s fury continued to grow, influencing anyone who consumed the flame. The weak were consumed by it, driven to madness by the spirit’s vengeful cries, while any that dared to fight him were rejected, killed from the inside by Heda’s power and ravished by the hungry spirit.

The second spirit of Ogedufa was named Wanheda, the spirit of life and death. Wanheda was created to cleanse the earth, to rid it of any who threatened Heda’s reign. Unlike her brother, Wanheda did not search for a presage. She sought out those inclined to justice, the most vengeful, those who were willing to kill.

To impose justice, Wanheda was gifted the power to command death. With just a touch, she can slay even the strongest of warriors, ensuring that there would be none who could ever bring forth such destruction as Praimfaya.

Wanheda’s first host was Asari, an orphan girl whose family was murdered by thieves. She had dedicated her life to slaughtering any who acted immorally, outside the bounds of her ideals. With the power of Wanheda in her hands, Asari became known as the night hunter. Her most infamous act came from murdering an entire army in their sleep when they dared to march against the Heda. While Wanheda lived, few dared step out of line, too fearful of invoking Wanheda’s wrath.

Heda took up residence in the city that Bekka had fallen, its old-world name forever lost but renamed Polis after the shuttle Ogedufa sent her down in. The people within the city, awestruck by the fallen angel, pledged their allegiance to Bekka, becoming the first to live under Heda's rule. Bekka commanded that eight riders be sent out in every direction to amass the survivors and bring them to her. The people they returned with, along with the original natives, became the ancestors of the twelve modern clans. Those who refused Heda’s rule were left to Wanheda’s wicked hands.

From the people gathered in Polis, Bekka took the strongest and formed a council of advisors, twelve in total, whom she named her generals. Each was given a sector of the survivors to oversee, to protect and to teach. As years passed, more people came to Polis, hearing of the thriving community, and as populations rose, Polis began to become too crowded to hold such numbers. So Bekka told her generals to take their people, those fit to move, and stake claim to a territory, land that would be theirs to cultivate and live upon for generations to come.

The strongest clans stake claim to the areas closest to Polis. Those under the general Aquia expanded south, claiming the rich Virginian fields for themselves. They took an old city as their capital, naming it after an old, faded sign that read ‘TonDC.’ The general Raddok went north, making their home in the cold valleys of old-world Pennsylvania. General Hankok took the land northeast, dry deserts of heat left over from the bombs of Praimfaya. General Leuthe took the east coast, claiming all land that touched the sea to be theirs. The others were forced to expand west, the weakest being forced all the way out until they touched the old-world ‘Mississippi.’

As communities began to grow, so did people’s doubt. General Raddok, along with his people, had grown doubtful of Heda’s rule, jealous that a single person could hold power over all the people. He rallied his people and began to march south, planning to overrun Polis and claim himself Heda.

Bekka, having been warned of the incoming army, rallied the people of the forest to her aid. They protected Polis from the rebels, defending it until Wanheda delivered Raddok and his wardens to Bekka for atonement. With the aid of Heda, Bekka forced Raddok to return to his people and inform them of the consequences of crossing her. Raddok, driven mad by Heda’s control over his mind, went insane mere days after his return to the north and was found dead soon after.

A fragile peace settled over the land. The twelve clans continued to flourish, all remaining all underneath the great commander. Each took upon their own traditions and customs, but underneath Heda, they all remained intertwined. Numbers continued to rise, and disputes over borders broke out. The clans began to divide further, becoming more like separate nations than one large force.

As the clans continue to dispute, the commander’s power weakened. The plains people, resentful that they had been continuously pushed farther and farther west, sent an assassin to claim the position of commander for themselves. The ice people, still bitter from what Heda had done to their people, did the same. Heda, realizing that his host would not hold power for much longer, slew her from the inside after delivering her to the doorstep of his chosen successor. Catur, murdering every nightblood that tried to take his power, reestablishes his strength as commander and ensures Heda’s power over the people.

More time passed, and Wanheda disappeared off the map. It is unsure of where she went, but after the ascension of the fourth commander, she vanished. There are stories that she hid away within the earth, stealing unsuspecting victims as prey to keep herself sustained. Others say that she lay dormant within Asari’s children, passed from generation to generation until the need for her rose again. Whatever the case, Wanheda was gone.

Time went on, the clans grew stronger, and commander after commander went by. Rivalries grew, tensions rose, and the fragile peace established by Bekka began to break.

A new commander, one stronger than ever before. A union of the clans. A peace unlike anything ever seen.

A starship falls from the sky, a shuttle, filled with people, just like how Pramheda was sent.

And Wanheda comes again.

#the 100 fic #prequel #grounder history #grounder lore #fanfiction #devil's incarnate

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