#irish jig song

[shironezuninja]

Now I get to go through the rest of 2023’s first half to find out when the 2nd Vox Machina soundtrack comes out. I’m SO digging that Irish Jig song from Scanlan and Kaylie Shorthalt.

[caterpillarinacave]

The thing about me is I’m basically just my dad but with different eyes

[sweenstar-reblogs]

Eugh im reminded of that time some white American pricks totally grilled a wee Black girl on national news once for doing Irish dancing (fantastically, might i add) and being like ‘uhhhmm Actually that’s not ur culture bc ur not white + ur ruining it with ur ‘urban’ music (hiphop/RnB/pop)’ like pls step on a burning coal

[paxesoterica]

Final Fantasy VIII Soundtrack - Irish Song (Irish Jig) - Fisherman's Hor...

[fazedlight]

Dance

It was in the small touches, the quiet laughs, the cozy cuddles.

Kara couldn’t help the way her heart would race each movie night, as she and Lena curled up into their corner of the couch - and she could hear Lena’s heart race too. Is this what friends do?, Kara thought, noting how Alex and Kelly almost mirrored their positions nearby, as did Nia and Brainy.

She turned back to the television screen - as Jack held Rose close, the two tapping along the makeshift stage as they danced to the Irish band’s jig - and Kara felt a flutter in her chest. I want to dance with Lena like that, she thought, watching the third class dance below the decks of the Titanic.

But somewhere in her mind, just friends just friends just friends rang out. What if I’m misreading things?, Kara thought, a little forlorn as she held Lena a bit tighter.

-----

Kara watched as Lena turned towards the dance floor, her hips swaying as she strode away, and Kara couldn’t help but blush.

Lena was breathtaking. She was always breathtaking, of course - but that night, as the drinks wore on, as Lena’s tiny flirtatious touches got more and more frequent, as her black dress hugged at her figure and her smokey eyeshadow - Rao.

It wasn’t on purpose. It couldn’t be on purpose. Was it on purpose?, Kara thought, feeling the slight panic in her veins. She was happy, she was giddy, she was confused - and not really sure what to do next. J’onn nudged her to go enjoy herself, to go dance where Lena had joined with Alex and Kelly. And why not?

Kara shuffled out of the booth, intent to take Lena’s hand and give her a twirl. She sensed that Lena would welcome it, that this was a feeling that went both ways.

But when she reached the floor - Lena’s dark eyes wandering over her - Kara froze in a panic. Finding the rhythm of the music, she threw her arms out, making wild and silly motions. Peak goofy Kara Danvers.

… so she chickened out. It was worth it to hear Lena’s laugh.

-----

Kara cheered as Alex and Kelly finished their first dance as a married couple, the slow beats of the melody coming to a poignant end. Glancing around at smiling and clapping family, her eyes briefly caught Lena’s across the floor - Kara quickly looked away.

The music transitioned into something upbeat, and Kara found herself amongst the others making their way onto the dance floor. Brainy took immediately to the center, drawing more laughter, as J’onn spun Esme, and Kara found herself goofing off with Winn.

The evening passed as guests wandered on and off the dance floor, casual chatter and warm hugs creating a gentle atmosphere as the sun set. Fairy lights added a softness to the cool night, and Kara found herself feeling quietly content.

As she set down her drink, she heard a familiar heartbeat behind her. “Hey,” Lena said.

Kara turned, smiling warmly as she hugged Lena, still reeling from the emotional conversation they had earlier in the evening. Lena curled up into Kara’s arms, and Kara could feel the cool temperature of Lena’s skin along her fingers. She held Lena tighter, warding off the chill of the evening.

“This next one will be the last dance of the night, folks,” the DJ announced, as the song started coming to an end.

Kara could feel Lena tense in her arms. Kara took a small, shaking breath. C’mon, Kara, be brave, she thought to herself. It was time to take a leap. “Would you like to dance?” Kara murmured.

Lena pulled back, smiling softly. “Yes, please.”

Kara could hear Lena’s heart start to race, drowned out only by the pounding of her own as she led her to the dance floor. Is this happening, is this happening?, Kara asked herself, taking Lena’s hand into her own, feeling Lena’s other hand drift to her waist as Kara pulled her closer.

“I was hoping you’d ask,” Lena whispered.

“For how long?” Kara asked.

“For years.”

Kara grinned. “Sorry to make you wait so long.”

Lena placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. “Better late than never.”

-----

They couldn’t stop.

Gala events. Karaoke nights. Weddings (they may have gone a little nuts at Brainy and Nia’s). Blasting an old stereo at home. Kara pulled Lena into her arms, and they danced.

It was one night in their living room - after an incredible date, celebrating their first year together - when Kara spun Lena particularly fast. Lena spun out a few feet away, laughing as she came to a halt. She turned back at Kara - a bit surprised to not be in the kryptonian’s arms already - when she saw the blonde on the floor, down on one knee, holding a ring in her hand.

“I never want to stop dancing with you,” Kara said. “Marry me?”

“Yes,” Lena said.

-----

Their wedding was small and private. Lena had never wanted the performance of the spotlight, as much as she was used to it. And Kara was content to have their close family and friends present.

The ceremony was simple - exchanging wedding bracelets and wedding rings, as kryptonian wind chimes sounded melodically around them. Alura and Zor-El finally met Eliza, all too grateful for the Danvers family giving their daughter a home for years.

Dinner was had and cake was cut, and then music started to play. Kara swayed slowly with Lena during their first dance, twirling her new wife under her arm, Lena smoothly following. “I can’t believe we’re here,” Lena murmured in her ear. Kara smiled back.

As their slow dance came to an end, Kara pulled Lena in to cup her face, their lips meeting to the cheers of their family and friends. Kara grinned as they broke apart again, Lena mischievously quirking her eyebrows. After all, they both knew what would happen next.

A familiar Irish jig began to play. Kara tugged Lena close, slotting perfectly up against Kara’s body, as others began to rush to the dance floor. “Ready?” Kara grinned.

“Always,” Lena smiled.

-----------------------------------------------

Third Class Dance from Titanic

[newfoundstateof]

but she fell in love with an english man | b.b. x reader

summary: Academy friends drag Benedict to a tavern to watch Irish fiddle player!reader perform. He buys her a drink. But who can play a fiddle and drink a pint at the same time?

word count: 1.2k

warnings: suggestive but none

a/n: definitely not inspired by those tiktoks of dirty talk bar maids at ren faires, who said that???

“They are spectacular,” Rupert Norton declared with an arm slung over Benedict’s shoulder.

The rest of the Royal Academy students hummed in agreement. Already drunk from the party they left minutes ago, a small group of them stumbled down the cobbled streets of Soho. Earlier that night, news broke that a band that visited a few weeks before Benedict enrolled at the Academy had returned to much anticipation. In an instant, pipes were dropped, coats were gathered, and boots were marching to The Intrepid Fox tavern.

“They’re from Ireland,” someone said.

“I’ve never danced so much in my life,” another added.

“And the fiddle player is quite easy on the eyes,” Rupert slurred into Benedict’s ear. “Try and buy her a drink if you can. That usually gets her attention.”

Benedict laughed. “I’m just here to enjoy the music. As should all of you scoundrels.”

Once inside the tavern, a few of the men beelined to the bar to order whiskey shots for the fiddle player despite the empty stage in the corner. Benedict simply took a seat at the bar, observing the growing crowd. The band’s reputation must have preceded them, as he was soon shoulder to shoulder with the eager fans. But for the next twenty minutes, only chatter filled the room.

“They always like to keep you waiting,” Rupert grumbled into his ale. “But it’s worth it, I promise.”

“I don’t mind,” Benedict smiled. “It’s good people watch-”

The room erupted into cheering, and he turned toward the stage. Sure enough, two men climbed the small wooden platform. One carried a fiddle, the other a flute. The room roared even louder when you emerged with your fiddle, waving a good-natured hand to the audience. Your smile was wide and disarming. Your gaze was equally piercing. Looking at the gleam in your eyes, Benedict knew just how aware you were of your control over the room. Soon the clapping died down, and every soul waited with bated breath to what you would say.

A scrawny kitchen hand hurried up to you and set a tray of shots down on a small barrel.

“Wow,” you breathed. “All this for little old me?”

Benedict found himself chuckling with everyone. As you threw a shot back, his stomach dropped. You were certainly not like the young ladies of the ton. 

“This crowd is mighty impressive, isn’t it, boys?” you asked your bandmates as you all started tuning your instruments. “We appreciate you for coming out. If you don’t know us already, the lad on the flute is Johnny. My fellow friend on the fiddle is Patrick. And I’m Y/N. I have a favor to ask of you all… From now until the last of you sorry lot leave this building, I hereby decree this an Irish pub! That means we will be clapping along to the songs, singing if you know the words, and if you are so inclined, I would love to see some dancing tonight.”

Someone in the audience whistled, evoking more cheers.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” you grinned.

The trio launched into Seven Drunken Nights, a popular jig even Benedict knew. Though his classmates were rowdily singing along, he could only stare at you. Johnny and Patrick generally kept to their places on stage, but you swayed across, drawing your bow theatrically compared to Patrick’s controlled movements. He was the main vocalist, but during the wife’s lines in the song, you sang with the crowd. 

“Ah, you’re drunk, you’re drunk, you silly ol’ fool. Still, you cannot see, that’s a lovely tin whistle that me mother sent to me!”

Benedict couldn’t decide if you were a better fiddle player or singer, you were impeccable at both. But without a doubt, you were the best at simply putting on a show. You encouraged people to dance along as you skipped across the stage. Benedict could only imagine how taxing it was for you. Dancing, singing, and playing an instrument all while not breaking a sweat. He eyed the tray of shots, turned to the nearest bartender, and ordered something more refreshing for you.

As you strung out the last note of Seven Drunken Nights, the same kitchen hand ran the mug of beer up to your tray. You sighed to yourself.

“Which one of you did this?” you cried out, lifting the mug high.

Heads spun every which way. Benedict froze. Was liquor the only appropriate drink to tip a musician? He wasn’t sure, he’d never been to something like this. Awkwardly, he coughed and raised his hand.

Your eyes found him in the sea of faces, and you smirked. “Don’t be shy, come here!”

 Rupert clapped Benedict on the back. “Don’t screw this up, Bridgerton. She might go home with you tonight.”

Though he had been with many women and dangerously close with a few men, you still intimidated him somehow. Nothing intimate had been on his mind before Rupert’s comment, but now his heart skipped a few beats at just the thought of it. Benedict snaked through the crowd, trying to read the expression on your face. But all you looked was smug, and he wouldn’t be surprised if you poured the ale on his head. 

“Finally,” you breathed as he stood before you. “One of you buys a lady a real drink!”

He exhaled in relief.

“I’m afraid I’m quite thirsty though,” you pout, getting down on one knee. The stage was barely a foot off the ground, putting your face directly in front of Benedict’s wide shoulders. “And we need to get on with the next song, but I don’t have enough hands. Would you help me, good sir?”

Without waiting for his response, you shoved the drink in his hands and looked up to the ceiling. Before Benedict could blink, you were poising your instrument and drawing out a note with your bandmates following suit.

“We’re lucky I don’t sing in this one,” you smile, giving him a pointed look. “Get on with it, now. I’m parched.”

Never one to argue with a lady, Benedict slowly tilted the rim of the glass to your lips and poured the liquid steadily down your throat. You looked up through your lashes at him, daring him to look away. But he didn’t. Only when some of the ale dripped down your chin and onto your bodice did his gaze break yours.

“Should I stop?” he asked.

You shook your head, “No,” as much as you could with your lips around the glass.

As you neared the last dregs, your head tilted back more and more to get it all. The eroticism of it all was not lost on Benedict, especially as you swallowed the last gulp and moaned audibly. The growing friction in the front of his pants was no help. But once the glass was finished, you rose to your feet and sent him off with a wink. As you spun to the other side of the stage, the hem of your skirt brushed his groin and he mindlessly reached for the fabric. But you were gone. In a trance, Benedict walked backward to his friends at the bar, adjusting himself. 

“Has she done that before,” he coughed.

“I’ve never seen that before,” Rupert crowed. “And I’ve seen them perform at least five times since I started at the Academy.”

“You’ve got to talk to her after, Bridgerton,” someone urged.

“Can I come along?” a voice teased.

“You’re the luckiest bastard on earth right now,” another sighed.

Across the room, you caught him starring and blew him a quick kiss.

“Yes,” he murmured. “Luckiest bastard on earth.”

[letterful]

❝ “Columbia now nine times the speed of sound.” “Roger that, Dan, I’ve got a solid TACAN locked on, uh, TACAN twenty-three.” “The, uh, tracking data, map data and pre-planned trajectory are all one line on the block.”

These authentic samples of communication between NASA and astronaut Dan Brandenstein on the space shuttle Columbia place us in orbit around our planet. Kate has said of “Hello Earth,” “…this is the point where she’s so weak that she relives the experience of the storm that took her in the water, almost from a view looking down on the earth up in the heavens, watching the storm start to form - the storm that eventually took her and that has put her in this situation.” Our narrator is having another out-of-body experience but this time it’s not nearby, on terra firma, but literally out of this world, and it seems to be final. She is high up above our earth, looking down, and there is a shocking sense associated with that as so few human beings have ever left our world to look back on it. There is a disconnection from what is common, known. I am reminded of The Overview Effect, the very real psychological and cognitive shift experienced by astronauts and cosmonauts—anyone who has left the planet and gone a sufficient distance to look back and perceive our planet not as a familiar home, but as a tiny, fragile ball, barely protected by a thin membrane of atmosphere. This awed feeling is described as one of ultimate compassion and understanding of the imperative to preserve and safeguard the planet.

After the NASA samples, we join our narrator floating in space like the Star Child in “2001: A Space Odyssey,” of the earth, but no longer attached to it, in fact freed from it. The tether has been cut. She is detached from her life and its meaning: there is an innocent, bemused approach as she plays a little game. She is so far from home, she can hold up one hand and block the planet from her field of vision—the earth is a toy. And we shift place, time, and point of view (as Kate so often does in her music) to our narrator driving home in a car at night, looking up at the sky, her loved one asleep on the seat beside her (a sweet, gentle, highly cinematic image, and all the more moving when we understand where our narrator currently is and the loss ahead), when she sees something bright streak across the sky. As she watches it shoot through the stars, she sings, amazed, “Just look at it go!” And what is “it?” Shooting star? Satellite? Space shuttle? A “little light?” If all time is simultaneous, has she glimpsed her own soul shooting past the planet? It is her own little light, a mind-boggling and heartbreaking idea—the cry in her voice when she sings this line indicates that she understands the meaning of this object, and its finality.

At this point, something very unexpected happens. An ethereal, arresting male choir sing a passage based on a traditional Georgian folk song from the Kakhetian region called “Tsintskaro.” It is a shocking transition, one that makes us hold our breath so as not to disturb this sudden, delicate, transcendent moment. Kate on the men’s chorus: “They really are meant to symbolize the great sense of loss, of weakness, at reaching a point where you can accept, at last, that everything can change.”

Our narrator, in full Overview Effect at this point, watches storms form and move to threaten the lives she sees below. She cries out to them in vain, all of them, the sailors, life-savers, cruisers, fishermen, anyone on or near the sea, to protect themselves. We hear in this section a few of the Irish instruments, bringing in echoes of meaning from the previous song “Jig of Life.” Here I am reminded of the idea of the Asian goddess Kuan-Yin, or the Buddhist idea of a Bodhisattva, a human who has attained ultimate awareness (Buddhahood) but motivated by compassion, refuses to leave this plane of reality for the benefit of all sentient beings. Our narrator, moved by the end of her own life, is now able to perceive the ephemeral nature of all creation. Everyone can be exposed to danger, everyone can suffer, everyone can—and will—die. This truth is universal. But she is unable to prevent or stop this truth. No one can.

She then sings a passage that is full of several meanings. She says she was there at the birth, out of the cloudburst, the head of the tempest. This could be the storm that took her, or it could be, from her newly widened perspective of awareness, the start of life itself, the start of the universe. We were all there, we are all made of the matter from a singularity—we are all star dust. The murderer of calm is this physical reality itself. All that is born must die. Entropy exists. She understands this and cries out, “J’accuse.” Hence the ultimate compassion for this tiny little blue ball.

The piece ends with whale song, sounds of radar, and a very mysterious, arcane passage spoken in German which, when translated into English, means “Deeper, deeper, somewhere in the deep there is a light.” In German, the word “tief” can also mean “profound,” and I am reminded of the Latin phrase at the beginning of the Christian Psalm 130 “De profundis clamavi ad te:” “out of the depths I cry out to you.” In the depths of sorrow, in the endless well of suffering, there is a light. Compassion is the light. ❞

via: (x)

[sock-ness-monster]

I love you folk music I love you celtic tunes I love you sea shanties I love you trail songs I love you bluegrass I love you ballads I love you madrigals I love you roundelays I love you Irish jigs I love you jug music I love you sertanejo I love you cowpunk I love you ragtime I love you yodeling

[thisphantomlife]

Songs Hozier has covered

Bowie - Changes, Young Americans (see also Trinity Orchestra section)

Prince - I Wanna Be Your Lover, Raspberry Beret, Jungle Love

James Carr - The Dark End Of The Street

The Beatles - Blackbird

John Lennon (Donny Hathaway version) - Jealous Guy (at the goldenplec block party with Zaska)

Ariana Grande - Problem

Warren G - Regulate (mashup with Problem)

James Blake - Retrograde

Tom Waits - Strange Weather

Florence and the Machine - Cosmic Love

Stevie Wonder - Living for the City, As, Sir Duke

Sting - 7 Days

The BeeGees - To Love Somebody

Lauryn Hill - Doo Wop (that thing)

Amerie - One Thing

Skip James (Alvin Youngblood Hart version) - Illinois Blues

Muddy Waters - Catfish Blues

Van Morrison - Caravan, Sweet Thing, Domino, Brown Eyed Girl, Saint Dominic’s Preview

Bill Withers - Ain’t No Sunshine, Use Me

Arctic Monkeys - Do I Wanna Know

Demi Lovato - Sorry Not Sorry

Led Zeppelin - Whole Lotta Love

Fun - We Are Young

Paul Simon - Bridge Over Troubled Water

Sam Smith - Lay Me Down

Destiny’s Child - Say My Name

Britney Spears - Toxic (snippet)

The Band - The Weight

Otis Rush version of Willie Dixon and the Big Three Trio - My Love Will Never Die

The Talking Heads - Burning Down the House (Instagram live messing around with friends)

The Staple Singers - Let’s Do it Again

The Weather Forecast 🤪

Ed Lewis - I Be So Glad When the Sun Goes Down (Instagram snippet)

Mavis Staples - Eyes on the Prize

Jackie Wilson - (Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher and Higher

The Meters - Just Kissed My Baby

Traffic (song originally by Traffic, Andrew covered the Joe Cocker version) - Feeling Alright

Bruce Cockburn - Lovers In A Dangerous Time

Paul Brady - The Lakes of Ponchartrain

The Meters - Cissy Strut (I’m including this because he’s played it for soundcheck and because he added it into “jazzy” Someone New during the Wasteland,Baby tour)

Christmas Songs - God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, Winter Wonderland, Santa Claus is Coming to Town (with others at the Xmas Eve Ball 2015)

Traditional Irish songs - My Lagan Love, The Humours of Whiskey, I Am Stretched On Your Grave, The Rolling Wave (on the low whistle), The Parting Glass, The Lonely Jig (on the low whistle)

(Live) Collabs - that are not Andrew’s own songs

Alvin Youngblood Hart - Illinois Blues

Maren Morris - The Bones, My Church, Girl, The Tree

Annie Lennox - I Put a Spell on You (Screamin Jay Hawkins cover)

Tom Odell - Another Love

Noah Kahan - Northern Attitude

Allison Russell - Requiem, Stop Dragging My Heart Around (Stevie Nicks & Tom Petty cover)

Brandi Carlile - The Joke, Walk On (U2 cover), The Weight (The Band cover)

Jamala - Walk On (U2 cover)

Mavis Staples - The Weight (The Band cover), Keep Your Eyes on the Prize (with Our Native Daughters, Jason Isbell and Phil Cook)

Boygenius - Salt in the Wound

Alana Henderson - Ae Fond Kiss (poem by Robert Burns)

U2 - When Love Comes to Town

Tori Kelly - Blackbird (the Beatles cover)

Mumford and Sons - Timshel, Awake My Soul, With a Little Help From My Friends (Beatles cover, with other artists)

Lake Street Dive - Everyday People (Sly and the Family Stone cover)

Rachael Price - Rental Love

Victoria Canal - Swan Song

Elwood (his dog) - Don’t Go Breaking My Heart (Elton John and Kiki Dee cover, Insta snippet)

All the artists at Love Rocks NYC 2022 - Like A Rolling Stone (Bob Dylan cover), Feeling Alright (Traffic cover)

Brian Kennedy (and others) - I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free (Nina Simone cover)

His Dad - The Weight (The Band cover at MSG)

Zaska, Wyvern Lingo, Loah - Sir Duke (Stevie Wonder cover)

Eabha McMahon - Bright Blue Rose (Jimmy McCarthy cover)

Brittany Howard - Feeling Alright (Joe Cocker version cover)

Joan Baez - We Shall Overcome, The Weight (The Band cover)

Christmas Eve Busk 2015

Bono, Glen Hansard - When Love Comes to Town, Every Breaking Wave

Glen Hansard, Imelda May - The Dark End of the Street (James Carr cover)

Christmas Eve Busk 2017

Glen Hansard, Coronas, Imelda May, Liam O Maonlaoi - So This is Christmas (John Lennon cover), The Aul Triangle

Music Groups

Nova Collective - (original songs) Tuile, Closer, Quick Bossa

Zaska - (original songs) In Your Own Sweet Time, Different Light, She Gunk Gunk Dunk A Funk, Oh Yeah

Anuna - with Andrew on lead vocals: The Raid, La Chanson de Mardi Gras. With Andrew in the choir: Jingle Bells, An Uaithne

The Wiggles - Cherry Tree Carol with Anuna

Trinity Orchestra - songs covered with Andrew on lead vocals

~ Queen - Somebody To Love, Don’t Stop Me Now

~ Arcade Fire - My Body is a Cage

~ Pink Floyd - Time, Breathe, Comfortably Numb, Shine on You Crazy Diamond, Money

~ Michael Jackson - Earth Song, Black or White, Smooth Criminal

~ David Bowie - Heroes

*This list may not be complete. It only contains songs that can be found online.

Please let me know if any songs are missing so I can add them 🫶

I’ve not included the songs he sang snippets of on that Song Association interview

[shironezuninja]

Trying to remember a joke that David Letterman once came up with years before he was nearing a retirement date from the Late Night Show on CBS.

I’m trying to paraphrase the line that may have gone like this:

“All you Catholics Grab a Protestant”.

It was a dance joke that I once saw on a commercial preview for his show. And the Holy Crusade Wars always bothered me in Global History Class. Watching the 1992 Harrison Ford movie, “Patriot Wars” recently is one more reason for me to roll my eyes to hostile division among human civilizations.

[papikyoo]

Fuck it, I will post whatever I want. Here's 10 kate bush songs that remind me of mithrun. I made a playlist so you can see the same vision: here

Jig Of Life: THIS is literally his theme song, Mithrun convincing his past self to fight for their shared life, the harsh wake-up call exhibits his critical view of himself, the lyrics are so vivid. The Irish folk instruments fit the dunmeshi settings as well, the outro feels a lot like him reviving from the death, "C'mon and let me live, girl!

2. Suspended in Gaffa: the desperate feeling of wanting something and not being able to have it right now, maybe he's after his own death or desire in this case. It's a beautiful song with a religious imagery.

3. Coffee Homeground: I think it captures his distrust and fear, which he thinks he's being poisoned(betrayed) by others, and the Demon also used that fear to drive him crazy.

4. The Infant Kiss: this is a very controversial song of Kate, but it doesn't glorify anything at all, but rather about being torn apart by a situation that seems innocent at the surface but there's a dark and evil threat underneath and to me, it feels a lot like Mithrun and the Demon's relationship, that the Demon presented itself as a baby goat, and Mithrun reached to pet it, even though the Demon granted him "gentle love", Mithrun as a canaries member likely knew that it's a threat, so this song describes that dilemma, the story of this song has Gothic elements which is similar to how I see Mithrun's backstory, isolated, mysterious and distorted.

5. Get Out Of My House: pretty much his experience in his own dungeon. TBH, The Dreaming is my favorite album of her.

6. The Fog: I share this song HC with Kabru because Kabru's feeling towards Mithrun is complex and protective, he tries to encourage Mithrun to grow, while his sense of navigation is as foggy. There's nothing to worried about, just put your feet down, Mithrun. In my opinion, Kabru is a bit preachy when he tries to give an idea what Mithrun should do so the lyrics about being taught how to swim by your partner is perfect.

7. Full house: this song is pretty personal, but again, I like to imagine it's an inner monologue of his past self.

8. The Red Shoes: the idea is being tricked to wear the shoes and not being able to take them off, he's being controlled and forced to perform for others.

9. Hounds Of Love: it's more like a Kabru's song to me, but I think it could apply to Mithrun too... I really like the drum that sounds like running footsteps.

10. Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God): Do I have to explain... this is the most popular song ever lmao

I have more songs but I will yap too much. thank you for the person who agrees that Mithrun is kate bush coded, I love you.

[hetalia-club]

Genuine question! I don't mean this rude but does the US have folk songs? I just didn't know since it was such a newer country.

Yes. I'm pretty sure every country has folk music regardless of the newness of their country. You'll notice a lot of them have heavy Irish influences for obvious reasons. But yes this would considered 'cowboy music' songs they would sing whilst around a fire. Think Red Dead. Those are all real songs too. Here are a few but there are honestly hundreds.

This one has BIIIIIIG Irish Energy. Also It sounds best if you sing it in an Irish accent like these guys are. Because that's honestly most likely what it was like.

So this song. Not a lot of people know the origins or what the words really mean. This song was original The jig of the British Army and the Brits started calling the Americans Yankees, as we know. Then the Americans stole the song. So the line, "Stuck a feather in his cap and called it Maccaroni" Maccaroni was 1700's slang for 'cool' so if something was Macaroni it was rad as hell. So the Brits were mocking the Americans for putting feathers in their hats saying "You guys thing you look so cool but you actually just look dumb. Also you're always fucking all the time. You're poor. Your guns are old. So ha!"

So when the Americans started to win the war and push the Brits back the Americans started to sing the song back to the Brits giving it a whole new meaning. Which was once a diss track became a double diss track. It turned it into "You're right we do actually look sick as hell with our feathers in our hats thanks for noticing." And so on. Americans are so unserious, always have been.

Prussia & America when the Brits dropped this song. Brittan really popped off with this one not gonna lie. Still slaps unironically.

I would also like to note that Americans Also have Sea Shanties.

About the American-Mexico war. This song goes so hard.

First recording was a whaling ship that was leaving New London, Connecticut. Again, it's sang best with an Irish accent because that is most likely as it was preformed. It's also sang to the tune of an existing Irish folk song.

These are two I know off the top of my head. I'm sure there are many more.

[jacketpotatoo]

I watched Hadestown live on the West End and I just wanted to ramble because it changed my life.

Melanie La Barrie is an absolutely electric Hermes. she's charismatic and fun and toes the line between a god enjoying the beauty of the present and a god, tired and resigned, that knows how the story ends. she is an interlocutor that invites the audience into this tale whilst being fully There with the characters. a moment that broke me was Road to Hell (Reprise) where she says the 'alright' twice to Orpheus in a way meant to comfort him rather than in a detached manner to the audience. It was like a grandmother calming down her grandson and it was devastating. I love how she stands in the shadows in scenes where she isn't involved and checks her pocketwatch often - it's a reminder of her omniscience and meta-theatrically, how she's an occupant of present stage-time as well as story time. A story time that spans thousands of years, from oral Greek myth, to Ovid, to this present retelling set in Depression Era America.

I love the jazz. the fact that the unbroken song is reflected in music genre and the presence of the band onstage with the rest of the cast. there were just little moments (like at the very beginning, Hermes goes to Eurydice and asks her if she's ready and they smile at each other before the former makes her way frontstage) where the Stage of it all is made clear. it's a story about telling stories and the cast is as important as the dramatis personae in its retelling. like the blurring of character and actor - when Our Lady Of The Underground takes time to give the band their flowers. it's so important in a story focusing on the average person and survival and creation of art. And it's just so genius to juxtapose those on stage that have access to the audience (Hermes and the band) and those that do not (the chorus and mortals). also the juxtaposition of Hades and Persephone (gods whose lives persevere in the changing of seasons and the cycle of death) and Orpheus and Eurydice (whose lives end but stories continue in this loop that inadvertently perpetuates hope by retelling in a different kind of immortality). Don't even get me started on flower symbolism. also also the band gave an encore performance and i love them sm like trombone guy?? mvp.

Some small things about the rest of the cast too: Hades was an absolute standout. he wasn't my favourite listening to the soundtrack a million times but he's a scene stealer and i loved every bit of him. just the way the actor carried himself - his walk, the set of his shoulders - was fucking perfect. tortured villain and sleazy capitalist at once. when he danced with Persephone he ended up doing this silly little jig that she followed along with after giggling a little and like. AAAAA?? And his 'I don't know' to Orpheus was so genuine. When he let Orpheus go his handshake was stretched long and he clutched him just that little bit longer because he knew that they wouldn't make it and. ugh. i'm so emotional. Persephone? transcendent. her voice. her moves! again, tortured and so, so fun. when she started dancing with Hades she couldn't look at him for awhile and her face was this beautiful mesh of emotions that transitions to pure joy. oh she was perfect.

I didn't get Irish Orpheus but Swing Orpheus was wonderful as well. He has the same puppy dog energy as Reeve!Orpheus but he was less dreamy/head-in-the-cloudsy. Wait For Me (alongside fucking gorgeous lighting and staging) and If It's True?? URGH. Actually lifechanging live experience. I'm not the same person I once was. also Eurydice was fantastic. she was British and while the cadence/accent took me a few songs to get used to, she brings a very different hard-tortured energy to Eurydice - it was an interesting and fitting interpretation of the character. this was reflected in her vocal texture as well with a much more desperate and belt-y sound than Noblezada!Eurydice. I love them both though, she was wonderful. ALSO she and Orpheus kept having these sweet little eye-contact interactions onstage when other things were going on and argh i love these goobers. a sad tale and a tragedy :,)

i have so much more to say and this is getting too long but i also wanted to mention that the theatre was full of audible gasps when Orpheus turned around. just. what an incredible, immersive, emotional experience. i'd one thousand recommend seeing it if you have the opportunity.

[ironmandeficiency]

drinking songs

pairing: established dwalin  / fem!dwarf!reader

word count: 1607

summary: you got drunk off your ass at thorin’s coronation banquet, and now it’s up to your dearest dwarf captain to get you back to your rooms.

a/n: song snippets are from "rattlin bog” by the irish descendants. i have become dwalin trash, mostly thanks to @fromthedeskoftheraven

the captain of the guard was enjoying himself, truly. it isn’t every day that thorin is actually happy, that his cousin is able to swing his arms around the shoulders of his nephews with joy oozing from every pore.

peace is seldom found in the line of durin.

his eyes flit around the room, observing every shift of the light and tracking the positions of his family and friends. the boys are hanging off thorin with rosy cheeks, smiling wider than he’d seen in years. bofur is dancing on one of the massive tables, flute in hand, deftly avoiding plates and goblets while doing a jig to his own music. nori’s pulled ori into dancing along, the brothers almost tripping over each other in their laughter. balin and dori are watching said merriment from their seats at the royal table, casually drinking from their goblets with matching grins.

dwalin respects the duties of his station and would never stray from his responsibilities during a royal banquet or otherwise. it doesn’t matter how entranced he is with the way you’re going toe to toe against the others with the mead, the way errant drops of the beverage drip down your chin and neck. he’s not going to abandon his post and allow himself to sweep you to your feet, beckoning you into the energetic dances of celebrating dwarrow.

but he can damn sure wish to.

he doesn’t know how it started. all dwalin knows is that it happened, is still happening, and probably won’t stop happening anytime soon. he fell beard over boots for you many moons ago, the dam sent by dís to accompany them on the quest, your presence the only reason his dear cousin let her sons join the company.

it could have been the battle cry released from the pit of your soul when you downed a warg headed straight for him. or maybe it was the vicious glint in your eyes when you ripped the leg off a mirkwood spider with your bare hands, then promptly used it to skewer two others. it could even be the doting care you gave to every member of the company, your innate kindness off the battlefield a delightful contradiction to your ferocity on it.

those and many more were the reasons he, with some encouragement from his closest friends and family, found the courage to ask to court you while they were in laketown. it was why his eyes kept focusing on the courting bead in your hair that marked you as his, no matter how many other eyes followed you around the mountain.

mahal’s sweaty balls, dwalin was in deep.

even in the safety of the mountain, there were so many strangers that he couldn’t let his guard down. that was his excuse for not celebrating and he would stick to it like the honey in your beard when you ate the little honey cakes at the shifter’s cabin.

he spotted bofur taking your hand, pulling you onto the table to join him in whatever foolish drinking song that was being chorused around the table.

“ho, ro, the rattlin' bog the bog down in the valley o real bog, the rattlin' bog the bog down in the valley o!”

an obnoxious cheer cut through yours and bofur’s song before you continued with wide smiles and mead dripping from your beards. 

“in the nest, there was a bird a rare bird, a rattlin’ bird the bird in the nest and the nest on the limb and the limb on the branch and the branch on the tree and the tree in the hole and the hole in the bog and the bog down in the valley o!”

it was an absolutely foolish song, albeit rather catchy. while he would never lower himself to singing along, he caught himself tapping his boot to it. the faster you sang, the more every other dwarf struggled to keep up. even bofur was occasionally lowered to simply making syllabic noises that didn’t quite make sense, though his current inebriation could be partly to blame.

you jumped off the table in a hurry, headed straight for him. if he were a betting dwarf that needed the gold, he would bet that you were going to try and pull him into your cheerful little song and dance.

“come on, ya big oaf! you’ve got to join us!”

“oh no no, dearie, you know i don’t-”

“correction, you didn’t dance! now you do!”

dwalin’s long-suffering sigh meant nothing to you. you’ve known dwalin nearly your entire lives, there wasn’t a moment spent under this mountain or another where he could successfully said no to you.

your strength in pulling him into the growing crowd, no matter how close to inebriated you were, shouldn’t have surprised him. his feet weren’t cooperating with the rest of him as he stumbled after you, the way he’s done since you were both wee pebbles.

he’s just glad he wasn’t asked to join you and the miner in the singing.

once you succeeded in pulling dwalin to the edge of your impromptu stage, you jumped right back into the song with ease. your drunken crowd was stomping their feet and banging meaty fists on the table. one of dain’s men had a banjo and was playing along with the steadily increasing tempo of the song. the increase in speed seemed to not affect you in the slightest and dwalin was gobsmacked.

“the rash on the tick, on the tick on the louse, on the louse on the hair, on the hair on the worm, on the worm on the feather, on the feather on the bird, on the bird in the egg, in the egg in the bird, in the bird on the nest, on the nest on the limb, on the limb on the branch, on the branch on the tree, on the tree in the hole, in the hole in the bog, in the bog down in the valley-o!”

you launched yourself off the table, still shouting the lyrics with a speed that rivaled the rabbits pulling the brown wizard’s sled. dwalin caught you with a wide grin. he almost didn’t catch you when you jumped into his arms, but his instincts were ahead of his brain.

with that one last line, ringed fingers tangled in the warrior’s beard, pulling him close so you could connect his lips with yours. it was a sloppy, rough kiss with just a little tenderness but overflowing with passion and impatience and devotion. hoots and hollers rang around you both, the loudest ones belonging to members of the company.

it was a very forward display of affection for two dwarrow who only recently started courting, but propriety could get shoved up the drake’s ass for all he (and you) cared.

he tempered your kisses, untangling your fingers from his beard before placating you with smaller pecks all across your face. “alright lass, it’s time for you to get to bed.” there was an affection in his voice that he couldn’t keep at bay when he was around you.

“rather forward tonight, are we?” you couldn’t help but tease your dear warrior. the sight of his cheeks wearing even the most faded tint of ruby was a reward that far surpassed the value of the treasure only a few rooms away.

dwalin rolled his eyes fondly at you. “not quite, kurdel,” maybe one day though. he wouldn’t even entertain the idea of doing anything untoward when you were giggly and rosy-cheeked from the spirits. “need to get you to sleep. ‘sides, it sounds like your voice is gettin’ hoarse.”

the resulting pout you gave him was very unconvincing.

a hiccup escaped your lips as your betrothed hoisted you into his shoulder, carrying you out of the grand hall like a very cherished sack of potatoes.

in the morning you were definitely going to regret the way you drank close to bombur’s weight in mead. it wasn’t a concern now, however, when drunk you had the best vantage point of your lover’s ass.

you could continue your singing after all, especially with the best hand drums this side of the misty mountains right there. deft hands began to tap an encore of your earlier performance. you were so distracted by this task you didn’t notice dwalin stop walking or his slight chuckle at your antics.

dwalin paused outside the door to your rooms, an impatient sigh falling from him. “are you quite finished, love?” just to spite him, you hum and give his buttocks a few more taps just because you could. “i’m done now,” you answer.

his grunt of acknowledgement made you giggle as he opened the door to your rooms, your intended making a beeline for your bed. he unloaded you with all the care a lover would give and once you were sobered up, you’d look upon the moment fondly. he was gingerly guiding your body as he removed your outerwear, leaving you in your pants and a loose tunic.

but that moment was not now, so you instead chose to grab up at him in a silent attempt to get him to lay with you. he should learn to say no to you eventually.

“if i lay down wi’ ye, there will be no funny business. understand?” he’s already ridding himself of his own boots and heavy armor, getting himself ready to crawl into bed with you. balin would definitely have his ass for this in the morning, but dwalin couldn’t find it in him to care when you were gazing at him with love in your eyes.

[avantegarda]

Razzle Dazzle

So it's been like 2 years since I wrote any Silmarillion stories, and like 4 since I wrote anything in my Victorian AU. But for @luthiendear's Luthien Week, I finally am returning to my roots and writing a short that I've been mulling over for quite some time.

Summary: Luthien duBois, Louisiana heiress and hopeless romantic, kickstarts the greatest jewel heist in American history.

---

San Francisco, 1899

The Angband Club

Luthien duBois was a great believer in positive thinking. It had helped her sail through plenty of trouble already, and no matter how terrifying the man in front of her was, she decided to believe her plan would work. It had gotten off to a decent start, anyway; Beren had gone in the day before and got himself hired as a barman, and the rest was in Lulu's hands.

Mr. Morgoth, frequently described as the most evil gangster in America, looked her up and down suggestively and stroked his luxuriant dark mustache. "You're a pretty thing," he drawled. "Only reason I let you in here, really. Tell me, young lady, what can I do for you?"

"I've come looking for work," she replied with a coquettish smile. "Word around town is, you run the finest saloon in this city, with top-notch talent. And I'm an excellent dancer."

"Oh, I can well believe that. But you must understand, miss..."

Lulu dropped into a curtsy. "Call me Nightingale."

"How sweet. You must understand, Miss Nightingale, I have very lofty standards for my employees. Simple talent isn't enough, nor are big eyes and pretty ankles." He set his drink down with a clatter. "Loyalty, miss, and discretion. The same a general might demand of his troops. Behind these doors, there is no law but mine. Have you the strength of character to promise this?"

I have enough strength of character to rob you blind, you old roué, thought Lulu fiercely. But she managed an innocent giggle. "Why, of course, Mr. M! It would be my absolute honor. For you, I'm as well-behaved as a schoolgirl."

"Oh, but I do hope you won't be too well-behaved. I like my girls with a bit of...spice."

Revolting man! "Why don't you let me audition," she purred, "and you'll see just how spicy I can be."

He gestured to the small stage across the room. "Do, please. I cannot wait."

She took a deep breath and pulled the pins from her hair, letting it fall around her like a cloak. "Play something lively," she ordered the man at the piano, and hopped up onto the stage. As the pianist struck up a jolly ragtime tune, she shut out her surroundings and danced.

She'd been trained in ballet, but this wasn't really ballet, not entirely. There were bits of flamenco, some calypso she'd seen on the streets of New Orleans, a hint of Irish jig, and plenty of whatever simply occurred to her in the moment. There was no point in being shy; she did have talent, and it didn't feel like a sin to show it off. Even in this situation.

The song ended at last, and it took a moment to remember she was in a dank gentlemen's club being leered at by a slimy old criminal. She bowed gracefully, trying her best not to shudder in disgust.

"You weren't lying, my dear," Morgoth breathed. "Consider yourself hired. And perhaps I can tempt you to give me a private performance from time to time.

"It would be my pleasure," Luthien lied. "But golly, this is such an honor! We ought to celebrate, don't you think?"

"We certainly should." Morgoth snapped his fingers at the pianist. "Boy! Two brandies, double-quick!"

The pianist- a young fellow with curly dark hair and olive skin-nodded obediently and scurried to the bar, returning with two glasses. Morgoth raised his to Luthien.

"To you, my pretty Nightingale," he said, and drank.

Three...

Two...

One.

Morgoth's dark eyes grew wide and confused, and he let out an undignified burp before slumping to the floor. Luthien sighed with relief as the pianist hurried to her side.

"Nice work," she said. "Where's the real pianist?"

"Out cold behind the dustbins. He'll be fine." Beren glanced down at the unconscious gangster. "What an old pervert," he muttered, shaking his head. "Sorry you had to do that, Lulu."

Luthien, who had been rummaging around in Morgoth's pockets, withdrew her hand with a grin. In it was a tiny silver key. "Don't be too sorry, darlin'. We're halfway there."

[aroacenezhaanddainsleif]

sigh. i want people to discuss silly little khaenri'ah life hcs with me. yeah the tragedy of the nation but like. what if tailors and servants and midsummer festivals and samhain. what if scottish/irish/norse folk songs and jigs. what if jousts and tourneys and making dumb poses in front of field tillers. what if they were human