#jennifer lake

[gerardpilled]

Houston (9/27/22) by Jennifer Lake

[tyforthevnm]

#MCRHOUSTON // September 27, 2022 // Jennifer Lake

[goryhorroor]

horror movies + my favorite posters

[dogzcats]

I did not expect to see you, sir.

[mockingjaysnakes]

• at the lake and at the lake house. (book! the ballad of songbirds and snakes & mockingjay).

[canislupusangelus]

Horror girl collage!!!! Some aren't horror but they have the same energy(mental illness)

[chestnutninny]

WIP (Works In Progress)

I Thought I Hated You (Chapter 5)

Casey Novak x Reader (Fluff)

Jennifer Jareau x Reader (Smut)

Aaron Hotchner x Reader (Angst/Fluff)

The Rise And Fall Of A Midwest Princess (Red Wine Supernova)

Liz Donnelly x Reader (Fluff)

Wounded (Part 2)

Surprise Character x Reader (Jealousy fic)

Nicky Nichols x Reader (Fluff/Smut)

Emily Prentiss x Reader (Fluff)

(I promise that I am working on them, but ideas are really slow right now.)

[the-ancient-comedy]

A Nightmare at Green Lake

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

[vintgies]

Veronica Lake as Jennifer I Married A Witch (1942) dir. René Clair

[jessequinnfirstofhername]

The Rules:

Every twenty-four hours there will be another round. After every round, the movie in last place will be eliminated.

If there are multiple movies tying for last place, there will be a special elimination round. In these rounds, every movie in last place will be eliminated, even if all the movie have tied equally.

When there are only two movie remaining, they will face off against one another in a week-long poll to determine the victor.

…and now for something completely different! Rather than voting for options that have already been chosen by me, you get to pick the options that will be included in this poll from Round Two onward. Please reply or reblog this post with the horror movie you’d like to include in this poll.

This is all for fun. Don’t take it too seriously ;)

Farewell, Fright Night (2011)

It's been eight years, but God it still breaks my heart that Anton Yelchin died so young. He was such a brilliant talent.

Round Five!

[luckythr33]

Etoile (1989) dir. Peter Del Monte

[flrdating]

N.S.F.W. “It’s not your fault you were born so small, but it is your responsibility to deal with it.”

[arthmisa]

jennifer from i married a witch (1942)

please, like or reblog ♡

[dustedmagazine]

Listening Post: Nick Cave

Nick Cave got his start in the punk clubs of Melbourne, as the shirtless, skeletal and incandescent front man for the Birthday Party, an outfit once dubbed “the most violent live band in the world.” That band split up in 1983, but not before, arguably, launching the goth punk genre with their single “Release the Bats.”

Cave’s next project, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds launched in 1982, bringing together a core group of collaborators — Warren Ellis, Martyn P. Casey, George Vjestica, Jim Schlavunos and Thomas Wydler — that continues to back him today. (As well as a couple, notably Mick Harvey and Blixa Bargeld, who no longer participate). It was with the Bad Seeds that Cave began to explore a driving blues-based psychedelia. The harder rocking Grinderman project branched off from there in 2006.

Cave’s last few albums, starting with Push the Sky Away and continuing through Skeleton Tree and Ghosteen, are very different from his work with the Birthday Party, or, indeed, early Bad Seeds. They are quieter and more uneasy. Ghosteen, produced after the tragic death of Cave’s teenage son, incorporates lavish orchestral arrangements and lacerating imagery.

In some ways, the 18th and latest Cave album, Wild God continues that trajectory, surrounding visionary lyrics with the sounds of a full orchestra and gospel choir. Yet this one, unlike the past two, again brings in the Bad Seeds, girding whipped cream heaps of violin glissandos with the muscle of bass, drums and rock guitar.

The album also marks a departure from the preceding two by focusing on joy. Despite the untimely death of two of his sons, the passing of colleagues, the pandemic and all the uncertainties of politics and climate and war, Cave fixes resolutely on the beauties of the world, like frogs jumping heaven-ward in the rain or brown horses grazing peacefully in the grass. It’s a bold stance in 2024, but a welcome one. We could all use some joy.

Intro by Jennifer Kelly

Jennifer Kelly: So, I think my very favorite thing in Wild God is the way that “Conversion” kicks into high gear about halfway through, with the gospel choir and all, and it just picks you up and takes you away. What are you all liking or not liking here?

Justin Cober-Lake: I’ve liked nearly all of Cave’s recent work, but this one is probably my favorite of the era. You mention it continuing the trajectory of the past three, which work as a sort of trilogy (ignoring Carnage). Cave’s taken the orchestral and atmospheric approach from those albums, but used it here to fill out a Bad Seeds album. This album returns him to his rock sounds, but it’s still an album that comes out of the trilogy. Though they’re fairly different, it’s hard to imagine this sound arriving without Ghosteen. It brings together a wide stretch of musical thought to create something very focused tonally. It means that forays like the gospel moments make sense even if they’re surprising.

Similarly, it mixes his older sense of storytelling with his more recent confessional sort of writing (admitting that there isn’t a clear era divide for these approaches, just that the personal, emotional sketches are more prominent since Push the Sky Away). Cave’s always been masterful, but Wild God feels like the album where all the elements of his art came together in a unified and powerful way.

Jonathan Shaw: Justin points to gospel moments on Wild God, and yes, I got two-thirds of the way through my first listen and thought, “Oh, it’s a gospel record.” Scans with all the writing and chatter about Christianity and religiosity Cave has done over the past bunch of years, but it still surprised me. I have been away from his music since the early 1990s, save for that first Grinderman record, which I found sort of charming, a return to the grime and squalor of the first few post-Birthday Party records (I still listen to From Her to Eternitysometimes). So, this is a strange place to land as a listener. I am still getting my footing, as it were, but I really like “Frogs” and I really don’t like “Joy” and “O Wow O Wow” is just sort of embarrassing.

So much seems to be in those first two tracks, which I am ambivalent about. I sort of like “Song of the Lake.” As a middle-aged dude, I can identify. But the grandness of the music feels of a piece with Cave’s characteristic grandiosities, which is what drove me away from his stuff in the first place. I’m going to keep listening.

Ian Mathers: For me, I wasn’t so much driven away by Cave’s grandiosities as kept away in the first place. I still have the Birthday Party on my (long, ever expanding) list of bands to get around to checking out one day, but his solo/Bad Seeds stuff never seemed that appealing. The most exposure I got was working in a record store where coworkers played the then-newer Abattoir Blues/The Lyre of Orpheus and first Grinderman records a fair bit. I was never annoyed by those records, but they did confirm and kind of cement my perception of him as very full of himself.

I don’t mean that in a dismissive or diminishing way; I think being full of himself is kind of the key to both what I find appealing in Cave and what I find kind of risible (including his advice column, which in my experience veers between genuinely very good and frequently moving, and making me roll my eyes and sigh). It feels like Nick Cave is as Nick Cave as he can possibly be at all times, and even when I’m not enjoying that there’s something wonderful there.

That being said, Ghosteen in 2019 marked the first time something I heard from Cave really landed with me. Yes, I appreciated his writing around the death of his son (and felt for him and his family), but that alone wouldn’t have gotten me to check it out. Something about the way people were talking about it made me think I had to check it out. And it grabbed me from the first listen. I think it’s a really beautiful record with a lot to talk about... that we’re not really focused on right now. But it did make me feel like I wanted to check out whatever Cave did next.

Something about the opening “Song of the Lake” made me think this was going to be another Ghosteen for me, where I feel like I got it and liked the record right from the first listen. For better or worse the rest of Wild God (at least after my first couple of listens) doesn’t sound much like it, and didn’t land as immediately for me. I remember liking “Frogs” as well, and those two are the ones that most seem to tap into a similar vibe as the one I liked so much on the previous record (despite this being about very different things, as far as I can tell). But of course, that’s coming from someone who’s never sat down with the vast majority of the records Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds have put out.

Tim Clarke: Ian’s description of his relationship with Nick Cave closely aligns with my own. I always found his self-righteous preacher persona to be annoying, and none of the music that I’ve half-heartedly tuned into over the years has piqued my interest. This changed with Skeleton Tree, which I found very moving. The music closely aligned with the intensity of emotion in the vocals, rather than just being a platform from which Cave would perform atop, if that makes sense. Skeleton Tree led me to Ghosteen, Push The Sky Away and Carnage, all of which I enjoyed.

This one is a harder sell for me. The prospect of “happy Nick Cave” doesn’t resonate with my musical taste, so a gospel-leaning record about finding joy was already going to be a slightly uncomfortable experience... There are a few moments here that I enjoyed, many of which have already been flagged by you guys, but mostly this just makes me want to listen to Mercury Rev’s Deserter’s Songs, which works with a similar musical palette, but with much greater emotional resonance.

Justin Cober-Lake: I may be on the opposite side of the Cave listening spectrum than most of us. I listen to the Birthday Party less than any of his music, and I like the grandiosity. I think he does something unique (or at least in a unique way). He’s trying to make art — which plenty of rock musicians are — but in a way that doesn’t correlate to the usual paths for that. His lyrics tend to be either smart and poetic or simply pretentious, probably depending on your starting point. The excess and bombast is part of the statement (differing from either emo or show tunes or prog or whatever, though maybe Tom Waits’ blend of stage and, well, whatever he does, is a good conceptual pairing). I don’t see him doing either advice or preaching in his music or his “Red Hand Files.” I’m not sure what it is, maybe just talking to fans. It’s the Q&A part of a reading.

My stance on all that sets up my listening to Wild God, which while ostensibly “happy Nick Cave,” only sort of is. It’s an album full of violence, death, and the acknowledgement of not just our mortality, but of our decline on the way to the end. From that ground, Cave finds places of transcendence, none of which fully hold up, but all of which get us through. There’s some kind of peace tucked into these emotional swells, a steadiness within the surges. That strained position gives the album much of its power. Freed of innocence but willing to be open allows the album to find real, earned hope and joy; and “joy” here doesn’t scan as a synonym for “happy,” but for something deeper, maybe closer to “at peace with all the destruction,” like a reed bent but always returning to its upright position, even knowing the next storm is coming.

Jonathan Shaw: I hear that, Justin. There are moments in earlier Cave that are big, emotionally and musically, that work really well. “The Carny” from Your Funeral... My Trial is a good example, and I have a long-running and passionate attachment to that whole record. When it’s an interesting musical move, I can get with opulent bombast (Klaus Nomi’s “Total Eclipse,” for instance).

I hear the reading of joy you provide in the song “Wild God” — a variety of “late style” Cave, in Edward Said’s sense of the phrase. It’s one of the stronger tracks on this record, not as good as “Song of the Lake” (lotsa bombast, and I have come to really like the tune) or “Frogs,” but good. On “Joy,” I don’t hear strain or struggle or even cussedness in the face of loss and decline. It’s too close to schmaltz, and the references to his recent grief strike the wrong tone for me. Can’t handle the part about “angry words” and “stars.” It’s true that we can’t subsist on anger alone, but exhausted metaphor ain’t gonna do the trick, either.

Jennifer Kelly: It’s interesting to me that choir music is not something that Cave discovered recently and in fact he was in the choir at his church growing up. This Ann Powers interview explores his connection with church music.

Justin Cober-Lake: My thoughts are starting to diverge with the conversation, so let me throw out points related to the last two comments and we can go whichever way it takes us.

Jonathan, I took a listen to “Joy” out of context with your thoughts in mind, and I think you make some fair points (even if I do like the song on its own). The album really works best as an album, though, and “Joy” has its slot there (notice for example how many songs include lines that reference previous songs). Even alone, though, the joy is entirely couched in an awareness of death, and teenaged death at that (assuming my reading of “giant sneakers”). I realize that doesn’t make the rest of it treacly, but it provides an essential element that keeps it from getting stupid, at least for me.

Jenny, thanks for sharing that interview, which is absolutely fascinating. I’ve long been interested in Cave’s relationship to religion. His spiritual language, even in unbelief, carries a particular potency that isn’t just shared Christian literacy. There’s an existential element to his work that really resonates, and Wild God feels like a particular manifestation of that, more openly... agnostic? Curiously agnostic? Maybe the religious work here, both in the words and in the choir, help direct the bombast and potential schmaltz into something that I find incredibly effective.

Tim Clarke: Thanks for sharing that interview, Jenny. I had no idea Dave Fridmann worked on the album. I can really hear it now. That epic, overblown, overwhelming quality that he achieved with The Flaming Lips’ The Soft Bulletin back in the late 1990s.

Bryon Hayes: I honestly thought I’d have more to say about this album since I consider myself a Cave fan and have dipped in and out of his canon over the decades. Judging by the profound discourse thus far, many of you have fairly strong feelings about Wild God, whether they be positive or not. My own response has been surprisingly muted. Cave’s albums usually stir emotions in me; I’m usually quite moved by his lyrical themes, most obviously on Skeleton Tree and Ghosteen. This album just seems to sit in my head and doesn’t really punch me in the gut. Maybe I’m turned off by “happy Nick Cave,” as Tim mentioned previously. The thing is, I keep going back to it. I enjoy listening to Wild God, I'm just not immersed in it. I do think that Dave Fridmann’s work on the album is bringing up some nostalgia for those classic Flaming Lips and Mercury Rev albums, though. His influence is one element that I find to be endearing on Wild God, and I would definitely be interested in hearing Cave and Fridmann work together more.

Christian Carey: Here’s a quote from Cave to close things out: “All my songs are written from a place of spiritual yearning, because that is the place that I permanently inhabit. To me, personally, this place feels charged, creative and full of potential.” — Nick Cave

[blacknarcissus]

Jennifer Connelly in Étoile (1989)

[laurapetrie]

SULLIVAN'S TRAVELS (1941)