#older album but i love it

[miesozernacma]

subsribe to my channel to see me be normal about music

[artofalassa]

Soft summer bois for the soul

[starry-bi-sky]

Stuck in the middle of a forest made of

Flesh and bones and they're all scared of

A lost little boy who has lost his heart

Fear's not enough, they have to

Tear him apart —-------

There are two things Daniel Fenton knows that his family knows as well: 

He’s adopted.

He can’t remember anything else before that.  

‘Adoption’ is a loose term, implying that they went through the official legal processes and troubles of adopting a child into their home willingly, and with the full intention of doing so going into it. That is not what happened. What happened is that Jasmine Fenton found a half-dead child, in strange clothing, in the middle of the woods at her Aunt Alicia’s cabin, and then she went and got her parents. 

What happened is that a twelve year old Danny woke up in the same cabin, wearing clothes much too big on him that didn’t belong to him, and with very little memory of before that moment. He wakes up like a spring being set loose, sitting up so fast he scares the daylights out of Jasmine Fenton sitting next to him. He wakes up, reaching for his sleeve for something that isn’t there, and when it isn’t his mind stutters, like he’s tripped at the top of a steep hill. 

When they ask him for his name, he tells them, clearing muddled thoughts from his mind; Danny. He’s twelve.

(He thinks that’s his name, at least. It sounds right; it feels right. If he thinks really hard about it, he thinks he can remember someone calling him that, utter adoration in their voice. So it must be his name.) 

The Jasmine girl convinces her parents to take him home with them, and they give him the spare guest room upstairs. He has nothing to fill it with.

It’s… a strange experience, to go to a ‘new’ home when he doesn’t even remember his old one. 

The official adoption process… happens. He can’t say it’s easy, or difficult. He’s oblivious for the most of it, Jasmine intends on helping him settle in and Danny can’t say he enjoys the smothering. He learns that he is stubbornly self-independent, that’s one new thing he knows about himself. 

His adoption papers say ‘Daniel J. Fenton’. Danny remembers staring at the name ‘Daniel’ for a long, long moment, something curdling sour in his sternum. His name is Danny, that he knows. But it’s not Daniel. But he doesn’t know any other way of saying it, so he keeps his complaints to himself.

(Jack Fenton boisterously claps his hand on Danny’s shoulder and jerks him around, grinning wide as he welcomes him into the Fenton Family. Danny’s mind blanches at the touch on his shoulder, an instinct snapping like the maw of a snake, telling him to cut off the man’s fingers for daring to touch him.) 

(He keeps the thought to himself, tension rising up his shoulders the longer Jack Fenton’s heavy hand stays on him.) 

They found Danny in the summer. It’s a perfect coincidence, Maddie Fenton says before she goes back into her lab with Jack Fenton. She says it’s enough time to allow Danny to adjust; that they’ll enroll him into the school year in the fall. Then she stuffs a canister of ectoplasm onto the top shelf, and disappears like the ghosts she studies back down the stairs.  

(There’s something eerily familiar about the ectoplasm sitting in the fridge, something unsettlingly so. Danny knows what that stuff is, but he doesn’t know where. When the house is empty, he takes a can from the fridge and inspects it.)

Jazz wants him to leave the house. Danny doesn’t want to step foot outside of the FentonWorks building until he has something that quells the feeling of vulnerability he gets whenever he does. He tried to once, and he felt exposed. Unsafe. 

He turned back around and went inside.

—-------

Where do we go

When the river's running slow

Where do we run

When the cats kill one by one

—------

One day, when the house is empty — or, as empty as it can be; the Fenton parents down in the lab, and jazz out with friends. Danny is making a sandwich, and he caves into the urge to flip the knife in his hands between his fingers. A childish impulse, but one he falls for nonetheless. It comes to him easily, like second nature, in fact. The slip of the blade between his fingers is seamless, flowing with an ease like water running down the wall.  

He’s almost startled by it; his body holds memories that his mind does not. Muscles that know which way to move and twist, limbs that know how to hold and how to throw. He continues twirling it, fascinated, as if he were a scientist discovering a new species of animal. 

It’s not for a handful of minutes when a new thought hits him; an impulsive thought that pops in the back of his mind like a firecracker; Danny moves without thinking. 

He turns, and throws the knife. The pull of his shoulder, the flick of his elbow, is familiar like a hug. He knows when to let go, and the blade flies through the air in impressive speed, embedding itself into the wall with a hearty, loud thunk. Sinking into the drywall like butter. 

Danny stares at it in shock, he feels relieved — about what? — before he feels the guilt. He scrambles across the kitchen to pull it out, heart racing in his chest at being caught, and prays no one notices the hole it left behind. 

(He runs up the stairs before anyone can find him, food forgotten, and hides the knife beneath his mattress like a guilty murder weapon.)

After that, he leaves the house more. It’s more out of fear of being caught than the desire to leave. But Danny is quickly learning that among all things, he is someone who was dangerous, before he lost his memory. Even with his mind in fractures, he is still dangerous. 

He’s not sure how to feel about that — he thinks he should be scared. He feels a little proud, instead.

—------

Hazel beneath our claws

While we wait for cerulean to cry

Unsettled ticks run through time

Enough for the hunt to go awry

—-----

There’s another thing he learns about himself. That he knows about since he woke up. He knows that he left someone behind. He doesn’t know who, but he knows they must have been close; he’s always looking down and finding himself surprised when the only shadow he sees is his own. 

He thinks that he must have sung to them a lot; he finds himself humming familiar melodies when he’s lost in thought. Lullabies lingering at the tip of his tongue, an instinct to turn and sing them to someone beside him. He can’t remember the lyrics, but his mouth does, it tries to get him to say them when he’s not thinking. He can’t. 

Danny’s found himself humming under his breath more times than he can count, trying to recall whatever it is his mind is trying to claw forward. 

(“That’s a pretty song, Danny.” Jazz tells him at breakfast one day, Danny screws his mouth shut. He hadn’t realized he was humming. “What is it?”) 

(Something mean and possessive rears its head on instinct, uncoiling like a snake from its ball. His shoulders hunch defensively, he bites his cheek to prevent himself from baring his teeth. He doesn’t know what song it is, but it’s not for her. “I don’t know.”)  

He misses his person. Dearly. He knows, the longer he is without them, that they must have been close. Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel like he’s missing a chunk from himself. He wouldn’t be turning to someone who's not there; reaching for a hand that’s missing, birdsong on his tongue, a story to tell. 

A dream haunts him one night. Warm and familiar, he’s holding onto someone smaller than him, they’re tucked into his side like a puzzle piece. He’s humming one of his songs that is always playing in the back of his mind, an unfinished tale of a harpy and a hare. Danny can’t remember their face, not all of it. He remembers green eyes, hair dark like his own, skin brown like his. 

He loves them more than anything else in the world, a fact he knows down to his soul. He loves them so much it fills his heart with sunlight. Danny squeezes them tight, nuzzling into their hair; he makes them laugh. Then, he proudly boasts something. That when he takes something of their father’s, that his person — a sibling? That feels right — will be… the word fades from Danny’s mind before he can make sense of it. 

His person hugs him tight, his… brother? And their mother — a woman whose face he can’t remember either, but who he loves like a limb nonetheless — appears, smiling. Her hands reach for them both, voice calling them, ‘her sons’. There’s ticking in the distance, it sounds like the fastening of chains.

Danny wakes up cold, tears streaming down his face. The details of the dream already fading from his mind like the cold pull of a corpse.   

—-------

Harpy hare

Where have you buried all your children?

Tell me so I say

—-------

When school starts that Fall, Danny joins the sixth grade class, and quickly learns more things about himself. One of those things being that he’s smarter than the rest of his grade, whatever education he had before, it was better than the one he’s getting now. 

Everyone knows he’s adopted right off the bat. He tells them when the teacher forces himself to introduce himself, but it’s not like they needed him to tell them for them to know; he never existed in their little world before now, and the Fentons are pale as they come. Danny is not.

He befriends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley; they ask him about the scars fading up and down his arms, they ask him about the scar carved diagonal across his face.

Danny, as politely as he can, tells them he doesn’t remember. He thought kindness would come second nature to him, his dream burned into his mind where he hugged his brother so sweetly. Apparently, his sweetness is only second nature to people he considers his own. 

(It becomes even more apparent when Dash Baxter tries to bully him later that day, and Danny ruffles like an eagle threatened. His mind whispers, hissy and agitated, sinking like a shadow at his shoulder, several different ways Danny could kill him for talking to him like that, and fifteen more ways he could cripple him.)

(Danny ignores those thoughts, up until Dash Baxter tries to grab him. Then he breaks his nose on the wood of his desk. It’s easy how quickly the rest of his grade sinks him down to the status of social pariah.)

(At least Sam and Tucker still talk to him after that. When Danny goes to the principal’s office later, he wisely doesn’t mention the worse things he could’ve done than break Dash Baxter’s nose.)  

—--------------

It clicks and it clatters in corners and borders

And they will never

Hear me here listen to croons and a calling

I'll tell them all the

Story, the sun, and the swallow, her sorrow

Singing me the tale of the Harpy and the Hare

—-------

More dreams come, of course they do. Each one halfway to forgotten whenever he wakes up, ticking faint in his ears. He is many different ages. He is young, shorter than a table. He is older, holding onto his little brother. He is singing in almost every single one. He is singing to his brother. 

Danny can barely remember the lyrics, he’s begun leaving a journal by his bedside so that it’s the first thing he can write down when he wakes up. He’s a storyteller, he learns. He feels like a historian, trying to piece together a culture long dead and forgotten. 

His most vivid dream-like memory is not a happy one, and for once he’s almost relieved he barely recalls it. He is somewhere that isn’t home, but his mother and brother are there. He is dressed in black, blades keen in his hands. 

They are atop a moving train. They are fleeing something. His brother is struggling to keep up, he is small, and young. It’s beautifully sunny, they are somewhere green and lovely. 

It is a fast dream. 

His brother stumbles on something, and Danny, fast as a whip, snatches him by the back of his shirt and hoists him up to his feet before he can fall. “Watch your feet, habibi.” He murmurs low, a hand on his back. It’s hard to hear, there is wind in their ears.

His brother, face obscured in all but his eyes, which are green as emeralds, nods. 

The dream blurs, but Danny falls behind. His foot catches on air — impossible, it should’ve been, at least. He never trips. — and he lands against the roof with a thud and a grunt. His mother and brother stop, and turn for him. 

The train hits a turn before Danny can get up, and he shouldn’t have, something pulls on him, he swears, but he slips. He can’t find the purchase to pull himself up, cold fear hits him as his nails scrape against the metal. 

His mother and brother’s horrified faces are the last thing he sees before he disappears off the side of the train. 

(The ticking is at its loudest when he wakes up, pounding against his inner skull. He only manages to write down ‘train fall’ in his journal, before he’s flipping over to press his head into his pillow to get the pain to stop.) 

—---  

She can't keep them all safe

They will die and be afraid

Mother, tell me so I say

(Mother, tell me so I say)

—-------

When Danny is fourteen he is still humming songs he can’t remember, his mind still in a broken puzzle. But his room is now decorated with stars and plants in every corner. He has a guitar he keeps in the corner of his room, and he plays the lullabies in his head on the strings over and over again. 

The ectoplasm in the fridge still unsettles him, still reminds him of a past he can’t recall. The knife beneath his mattress has returned to the kitchen — he doesn’t need it. He found a box in the attic last year, it had his name on it, and inside he found familiar, strange clothes, and more weapons than he thought was possible to carry on one person. 

(Even without knowing that the Fentons prefer guns to blades, Danny knows, instinctively, that they were his weapons. He was — was? Is — a dangerous person. He takes the box down to his room to sort through. The weapons all fit into his callused hands almost perfectly — the grooves worn to fit his palm. They’re just a little small.) 

(He tentatively takes a small blade with him to school one day, and feels much more comfortable with it sheathed beneath his shirt. He’s kept it on him ever since, like he’s reunited a lost limb to himself.)   

Danny doesn’t have a name for his person, his little brother, nor does he have a name for his beloved mother. He’s haunted by dreams every few weeks, many of them repeating. He’s ingrained the words he can remember to memory, and the ones he doesn’t, he writes down in his journal. His little brother; Danny calls him a bird, he can’t figure out what kind. His little bird of some kind; when Danny takes something from their father — what, he can’t remember what — then his little brother will be a little bird. 

(He doesn’t have a name for his brother, yet, but he’s calling his birdie in his head. It’s better than nothing.)

—------

Seeker, do you ever come to wonder

If what you're looking for is within where you hold

Will you leave a trail for them to follow a path

You'll soon forget

Home

—---------

When he’s fourteen, Danny dies. It does nothing to fix his fractured memories, much to his consternation. It just confirms something he already knows; that he was someone dangerous, and that he still is. 

When the shock of death has worn off, Danny inspects his ghost in the metal reflection of the closest table. It’s blurry, hard to see, but shock green eyes pierce back at him, green like the portal. Lazarus, Danny’s mind whispers, and he blinks rapidly.

‘Lazarus,’ he mouths to himself. It’s familiar. Sam shows him with her phone what he looks like, joking that he looks like an assassin. Danny doesn’t think she’s that too far off. 

He doesn’t tell her that. He tucks the thought away with the rest of his secrets, and fiddles with the hood gathering at his neck, attached to a cape with torn edges swinging down to his ankles. He pulls it over his shock white hair. It shadows over his face impossibly so, until all you can see are his green-green eyes peering out like a wolf hiding in the brush.

He ends up calling himself Phantom. 

(Maybe now he can start putting lyrics to his lullabies; his memories may not have returned, locked away with the sound of a clock, but the dead can talk. One of them may just have answers.) 

----------

Home is where we are

Home is where you are

Home is where I am

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

Dedicated to @gascansposts for being the one who introduced me to the band Yaelokre, and thus being the whole reason I was inspired to write this in the first place >:] Those lyrics at the line breaks are all from their album Hayfields.

[starrylevi]

Levi who has an untitled album in his phone and it’s all pictures of you. Most are candids in which you’re caught off guard. He’s talented at taking pictures without you noticing. There’s a picture of you sleeping, another of you snuggled up against his chest, one of you belly laughing, and more. However, his favorites are the ones that are the most ordinary, the ones that you personally don’t think are all that special. In these pictures you’re doing the most mundane things like laundry, washing the dishes, watching television, engaging in your favorite hobby, etc. He thinks you look beautiful in all of them. He doesn’t believe there needs to be a reason for him to take these pictures. You simply existing is reason enough for him.

[sainz100]

Carlos Sainz | F1 London Live in 2017 | x x x x x

[askchilchuck]

hello chilchuck!! i figured sense your not a chiwawa anymore i could ask you to listen to more music, you where a very cute chiwawa by the way. anyway! *brings out the cd player and another cd* lets start!

this band is one of my favorites, my mom introduced me to them. so good memories yk? i guess there conciderd “old” now, i dont really call music until it breaches 100 years old lol. But they’ve been playing music for 30 somthing years now, cool stuff too. i’ve memorized a bunch of there songs- ..and I’ll stop rambling and put it on now (sorry)

make sure you tell me what you think of them, and the songs! *pops a cd in the cd player, the offsprings americana album starts playing*

Hey, that’s not bad. There’s a lot of instruments I haven’t heard before, but I kinda like them. Thanks for showing me!

[brockitty-goober]

AGHABAHAGGA MY SISTER DREW THIS SHE HASNT WATCHED THE AMAZING DIGITSL CIRCUS AGHAGAHY MAKE THIS GO VIRAL OH MY GOD GDHDHDH

[channie-binnie]

Really need to dive more deeper into SKZ discography, I think I’ve listened to like 50 songs so far

Need to get into their older stuff too

[ciggarettedaydream]

goals

[cr33p-a-z01d]

HER

[yousignedupforthis]

New merch is actually really nice and I would have wanted that ring sooo so bad several years ago

[hueseok]

do you ever listen to old bts albums and find yourself really emotional??? like... i'm always magically transported to the time i first listened to it or the times i clung to their music when i was having a really hard time 🥲

[melit0n]

Part three to the Sleep Token FX post. Some of these I've picked up on my own, and others have been pointed out to me by @reveries-of-my-mind and @moonchild-in-blue through their reblogs of my original post about Vore. A lot of these FX bits are more obvious, so I decided to just put TMBTE in one post.

Part three includes: Take Me Back To Eden

Part One -> One, Two, Jaws and The Way That You Were

Part Two -> Sundowning and This Place Will Become Your Tomb

+ If I've missed something, feel to add your own thoughts!

Note- some of these are FX, others are sound mixing and music bits I wanted to mention. Any song you don't see mentioned are songs that I couldn't find anything to pull out of them. Plus, reminder; these are my interpretations, I'm sorry if you can't hear what I hear, or you think something different.

Chokehold

- Lots and lots of digital, glitchy FX which sets the mood for the album. This is also repeated throughout all the songs in the album, which works with their algorithm-esc, robotic theme (both lyrically and musically) in their songs for this one.

The Summoning

- Unfortunately, everyone's favourite jazz-metal amalgamation doesn't have any other SFX notes other than carrying on Chokehold's glitchy FX motifs.

Aqua Regia

- Jazz café ambience shown throughout the song, also, every single instrument other than the main paino is echoed and or muffled.

+ Fun fact! Aqua Regia is Latin for Royal Water. It's a concentrated solution of Hydrochloric and nitric acids, and is one of the only acids that can dissolve Gold; it's used in the jewelry trade to test the purity of Gold. Not a clue what Vessel is trying to get across with that, but his obsession with chemistry and biology motifs strike again.

Granite

- The screetch of the guitar chord at 2:32, right before the breakdown, sounds almost like a car hitting the breaks and skidding. Works well with Granite's theme of car crashes. You can almost imagine someone having an argument in the car, and the screetch is a result of things going a bit too far.

Vore

- Like I said in my original post, in the beginning (first fifteen seconds), along with the scratchy guitar chord, there are chewing and swallowing sounds. The song is quite literally from the point of view of being stuck in the throat of a God.

- At 3:23 to 3:30, there are bird noises similar to the ones at the start of TMBTE! They're incredibly subtle, but they're there. If you can't pinpoint it, there's a squeaking noise at 3:27, which is just a bird tweeting!

Rain

- From 3:55 to the end of the song, there's rain, which is obviously very fitting. Not specifically rain tapping on a rooftop, but more so rain pouring down a gutter, at least to me.

Take Me Back To Eden

- From 0:00 to 0:40, there's echoed animal noises, like if you were to stand in the middle of a rainforest. The song starts of in absolute silence, only broken by nature; not a human made noise to be heard. It's quite literally Eden. These sounds are there throughout the song, they just get much harder to hear the longer Vessel sings and the more instruments they later on top of eachother.

- At 1:42, there's either a Lion's or a Tiger's roar.

- From 3:10-3:16, there's the sound of thunder.

- A lot of the jingles you hear in The Summoning are repeated here! E.g; 3:40 and, more clearly, at 4:50 and 7:50.

- The lyrics "we were tangled up like branches in a flood; it was no accident" are direct refrences to the lyrics in Chokehold.

Euclid

- The song is 5 minutes and 13 seconds long, but Vessel only starts singing at the 13 second mark. The first lyric? "Just run it back, give me five whole minutes". We, as the listener give him five whole minutes to say what he's gotta say. Further, the song ends on the exact same piano chord that it begins with; the song, in of itself, is a loop. Anytime you play Euclid on loop, you are running it back and giving him five whole minutes. One of the reasons Euclid is my favourite (next to Aqua Regia) for this album.

- The lyrics "the night belongs to you" and "this bough is broken through" are lyrical refrences to The Nigh Does not Belong to God from Sundowning and When The Bough Breaks from One. The oldest album, and ST's first produced album.

- From 4:02 to the end of the song, a verse from The Night Does Not Belong To God is played. It completes the produced album trilogy, and, with the five stages of grief, allows for acceptance and healing. Euclid not only loops itself, but loops the three albums together. Sundowning, TPWBYT and TMBTE are an endless loop that can and will be played as many times as needed for Vessel, for you, as the listener, to heal. To accept change. To realise there's more than denial, anger bargaining and depression. And I think that, in of itself, is beautiful.

---------

Album Notes: Sleep Token really put their whole soul into this album huh. By far, it's the one that uses SFX the most, and rounds out Sleep Token's own genre as a whole. We see snippets of older songs used throughout the album, both lyrical refrences and actual chunks of old songs taken out and placed within other ones. 10/10, would cry to again.

Thank you for reading through all my thoughts and feelings, whoever you are. Remember, the night belongs to you; worship <3.

[beansterpie]

Thanks for tagging me @marley-manson and also @hawkfawun!

Put your music library on shuffle, then list the first five songs that come up in a poll to let people vote for which one they like the most!

My library's a fucking mess so legit 4/5 of mine ended up being soundtracks.....

Tagging: @deabruarenjarraitzaileaya-ha, @damaera, @yormgen, @spacesealion, @flowerhaart, @stuffingprize and anyone else who feels like it!

[hairtusk]

okay back at the hotel and somewhat calmer. if you were at the pj harvey show tonight in halifax and you spoke a single word while she was singing. count your fucking days.

[drdemonprince]

Oh, my heart will fantasize of Eden

My love, my dream, make love to me

Surrender your spirit, sing my eulogy

Oh, my heart is chained to thee, my angel

You haven't seen the last of me, my love

I give you everything