#licherally glowing like angels | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

surprisings-remade · 6 years ago

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things i love about: 💞💘 @agustwink 💞💘

like this post for one of these !

s - soft :( youre ..... hfkjfgh ok please youre SO soft .. for yoongi ! your moots ! literally gfhkgjhd all your tags and when you answer asks ???? 🥺💌💞💖💘💗💘💖💗💘💞💖💖💘💗 youre so cute and sweet it’s !!!!! very admirable how nice you are :< every time i see you on my dash im reminded of 🧸🧸 bc .... cute and nice and soft ghkjfh except ur way cuter than any plushie no offense 💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

h - how ...... bc HOW are you so amazing vhjkfhfg how are you real ??? how do you effortlessly make everyone so happy. . . . .how do you have the whole world wrapped around your finger by just saying one (1) word.... HOW 😔💓💘💘 im ... asking that question and yet i think it’s obvious why in reality ! it’s bc youre an angel :(((( how could the world Not adore you to the edge of the galaxy and back ?????🌠🌃🌃 youre magical shivangi and i adore you so much :(

i - inspirational !!!! bc ..... shivangi if im being real i am Very inspired by you !! you light up my (and everyone else’s) every day and whole world and it’s amazing ! impressive ! astounding ! you’re marvelous and .... i really look up to you bc youre so nice and i hope that maybe just maybe i can learn to be a better, kinder person from you !!! 🥺💞💌 also ur love for yoongi ... an icon !

v - vote ... because you have my vote for anything :(( president ?? hell yeah shivangi 2020 !!! leader of the world ??? uhhhhh where do i sign my approval bc you have it !!! honestly. ... . you also have my vote for cutest yoongi stan no offense !!!!! ur just .... i have no words :( if you look up your name in the dictionary it just says as the def “cute” like ... it’s YOU .... it also has other defs that say “lovely” and “nice” and .. p much every good thing you can say abt someone ! trust me i checked 💗☀️📖👓

a - abloom !!! you’re ..... pretty like a flower :( and you remind me of springtime bc youre so sunny !!! ☀️🌸🌼 you make me think of hobi when he compares himself to flowers gfhjkfgh bc that’s you !! and you should recognize it >:o youre a flower and youre beautiful and we alll love you 💘💖💓 you remind me esp of cherry blossoms bc they represent the coming of spring and the beauty of life (which is undoubtedly more beautiful w you in it !!!!)

n - never-ending love ! i have already talked abt your love for others ... but now it is time to take about others’ love for you !!!!!!! licherally everyone loves you like it is impossible to know you and not be smitten !!!!!! 💘💖💗💖💖💓💗 youre such a nice and valued presence in my life i truly treasure you so so so much :((((((( i hope you realize how loved and appreciated and adored and admired you are bc you really deserve to know how great you are :( ☀️💌

g - glowing !!!! you ... glow more radiant than any of the stars ive ever seen :( but it’s not an overwhelming or painful kind of bright ! instead it’s a soft glow like when the sun is setting and it casts a golden glow over everything ? and it peaks through your curtains/blinds into your room .. .that’s you !!!! you always shine through no matter what and i appreciate it so so so so much :(

i - iconic ! i know i already said you were an icon but i Need to go more in depth like.... you’re truly The yoongi stan like .. he is really truly entirely SO lucky to have your love 🌸💞💗💖 and all of your moots are too like ..... we’re all blessed by an angel who is fairer than the most beautiful miracles nature has to offer !!!!! and it’s you :((( ilysm :(( 😔🥺

#not kpop #txt #love.txt #long post #SHIVANGI IM LOVE YOU !!!!!!

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watusichris · 7 years ago

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“Desolation Center“: Joy at Sea

Tonight I’ll be attending a cast and crew screening of “Desolation Center,” Stuart Swezey’s new documentary about the unusual alfresco punk shows he promoted in the early ‘80s. I am a talking head in the picture. Lo and behold, while doing a little poking around on the web, I discovered that 34 years ago to the day today, I attended the event I talk about in the film, aboard a whale-watching boat in San Pedro Harbor. Here’s what I wrote about for the event in the Los Angeles Reader. **********

The biggest problem with rock ‘n’ roll performances is the wall socket. The music runs on electricity; hence it must be played in basements, garages, dives, and concert halls in which juice can readily be run. Over the years, the rock ‘n’ roll imagination has become hamstrung by a familiar proscenium-arch setting. It’s a thing of the stage and, no matter how much a band gussies things up with flash pots, fog machines, backdrops, and other theatrical gimcracks, we still know that we’ve been looking at a stage at the end of a forty-five minute set.

Not everybody in the world is happy with this set-up. Take the folks at the Desolation Center. For the last couple of years, mastermind Bruce Licher (the guiding light of Savage Republic and the most artful of local record packagers) and his cohorts have schlepped people out into the middle of the desert by the busload to witness rock ‘n’ roll in its most radical state, played in its most radical environment. Although I never made the Death Valley trek (must have something to do with having seen Erich von Stroheim’s Greed at an early age), I’ve always admired the idea of a rock ‘n’ roll outing – it limbers up the brain by providing a new imaginative context for the performance.

Last week, the Desolation Center hit on another original idea for taking rock ‘n’ roll out of the nightclub and into the real world: “Joy at Sea,” a three-hour “sea-going musical expedition” held on board a cruise vessel meandering in a circle from San Pedro to Long Beach through the Port of Los Angeles harbor. Since drowning has always been a more appealing way of dying than expiring of thirst as far as I am concerned, I signed on for the tour.

I approached the journey with some trepidation. Hell, I thought, this could be some kind of punk Pequod. I envisioned myself floating around San Pedro Harbor on the back of a coffin, as my capsized ship was sucked into a whirlpool and Robert Lloyd*, strapped by harpoon lines to the back of a great white whale, screamed, “Springsteen! Springsteen!” as he was carried to his watery doom. Call me Maurice.

This fantasy proved to be a case of too much Melville. The boat, the S.S. Cormorant, proved to be a sturdy-looking two-tiered cruise vessel; at the stern of the upper deck, a small stage had been erected. Lights and a PA system had been lashed to the sides of the stage. The good-sized boat sat comfortably in the dark, serene water. At the neighboring dock, a group of teenagers sang a loud, drunken rendition of “Happy Birthday” from the back of a small pleasure boat. My nerves calmed, I boarded merrily, washing down two Dramamine with a tap beer, and waited for us to cast off.

Shortly after 9:30 p.m., the Cormorant glided away from the dock. After a brief interval that allowed the 200-odd passengers to get their sea legs, the South Bay quartet Lawndale started cranking up below decks. They attracted a small group, since most of the assembled crew was jammed together up top, waiting for the Meat Puppets to begin their set. A pity, for Lawndale (in yachting caps and deck shoes) proved to be a completely entertaining neo-surf combo, who tore into their all-instrumental set with a vigor evidently born of the ocean-going setting.

After Lawndale wound up their brief but refreshing set, I moved upstairs and wedged my way next to the stage. The Meat Puppets were experiencing some technical difficulties, so I had a chance to take in the harbor as we coasted by. The notion of the cruise was plainly anti-romantic: The Port of Los Angeles is the home of heavy industry. One experienced a new sense of scale as the Cormorant sailed past docked oil tankers some three city blocks long; the petroleum refineries glowed an angry yellow in the distance.

After much fussing and fiddling with their equipment, the Puppets finally got under way again. The set progressed in fits and starts as the overamped trio repeatedly blew out the circuit breakers on the overtaxed vessel, but it proved to be an impressive showing, heightened by the shifting open-air backdrop of the harbor.

The Meat Puppets are a trio from Arizona fronted by two long-haired, somewhat retarded-looking siblings, guitarist/vocalist Curt Kirkwood and bassist Cris Kirkwood. With drummer Derrick Bostrom, the brothers stir up a fantastic amount of noise; Curt pushed his old gold Les Paul into overdrive. The Puppets have a rep as an on-and-off band, but last Friday they turned in a performance as sharp and bracing as the ocean air.

The group played a set that alternated between their own microcephalic country material (such as “Split Myself in Two” and the strange Grateful Dead-style instrumental “I’m a Mindless Idiot”) to some bizarre cover tunes. In a wobbly voice that sounded like a cross between a laugh and a sob, Curt Kirkwood essayed Elvis Presley’s “Trouble” and “Good Rockin’ Tonight,” Tony Joe White’s “Polk Salad Annie,” and the Foghat arrangement of “I Just Want to Make Love to You.”

The musical and visual high point of the evening occurred in the middle of the Puppets’ set. The band launched into a ferocious jam announced as “Enchanted Fortress.” As the music reached its peak, with Bostrom slamming his kit and Curt Kirkwood drawing gnarled, agonized lines from his Gibson, the Cormorant passed under the enormous bridge that links the two sides of the harbor. The structure is so high that the cars crossing it looked like planes flying low over the water. The force of the music and the feeling of motion and immense scale all fused to produce a unique sensation – a moment of joy, just as advertised.

Somebody on the top deck whooped and set off a signal flare in celebration.

After the Meat Puppets’ set came to a loud and triumphant close, some of the partiers ventured downstairs to score another beer and check out the “psychoactive sound/visuals” of Points of Friction, which proved to be a minimally interesting low-rent light show projected on a sheet/screen. If it had been a normal concert, this would have been the time to hit the lobby for a cigarette; instead, you could head for the outside areas fore and aft, to gaze at the darkened yachts or yell drunkenly at the diners aboard the sea-going restaurant the Princess Louise. The ennui that is so often a given at a rock concert disappeared, blown away in the mild harbor wind.

By the time the evening’s headliners, the Minutemen, were ready to play, the top deck resembled a seaworthy version of the Cathay de Grande’s basement, with the audience members shoehorned together in a tight, motionless pack. The little stage looked too small and the lighting buttresses too fragile for the peripatetic Minutemen; I wondered to myself if Dennes Boon, the leaping, bounding mountain who plays guitar for the group, wouldn’t send the whole kaboodle over the side with his elephantine dancing.

My fears again proved boundless; although bassist Mike Watt stood (somewhat nervously, I thought) behind one of the PA columns to give Boon more room, the gargantuan guitarist didn’t jar the stage loose with his galloping. San Pedro’s greatest contribution to Western Civilization played their customarily brilliant set, featuring crowd-pleasing oldies (including the appropriately nautical “The Anchor”), a devilish 20-second cover of Van Halen’s “Ain’t Talkin’ ‘Bout Love,” a moving slow version of Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Don’t Look Now, It Ain’t You Or Me,” and a generous helping of the new, forty-five song two-record set Double Nickels On the Dime.

Another grand visual moment came late in the evening. As the Minutemen surged through their lightning-like songs, the Cormorant reached the point where the harbor joined the ocean; as the boat made a wide turn to head back into port, a vast expanse of the Pacific loomed up behind the trio as they steamed through a clipped, thrashing tune. The almost-full moon made the water dance into infinity. For a landlocked rock ‘n’ roller, it was a sight and sound to behold.

The Cormorant nudged up against the dock while the Minutemen were still playing. The show broke up quickly and I weaved down the gangplank, more than a little drunk and thoroughly exhilarated. It had been a surprisingly perfect evening – no fights, no hassles, no boredom. No seasickness. The combination of the fine music and the shifting seascapes had opened a new window in my head by taking rock ‘n’ roll out of dry-dock and into fresh performance terrain.

Sign me up for the Desolation Center’s 1990 moon shot. It should be worth the long haul.

*Lloyd, now a TV critic at the Los Angeles Times, was the Springsteen-loving music editor of the LA Weekly. (photos: Ann Summa)

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