#saywhatyouwant

[thethornyjuniper]

The second design in our new Punk-inspired series is titled: "NOT PRETTY BUT VACANT" Featured on almost all range of pruducts at shop.thethornyjuniper.com

[musicarenagh]

"Say What You Want" by The Passing Sages As a music aficionado, stumbling upon new artists pushing the envelope is always a thrill. The Passing Sages, a vibrant six-piece funk-pop fusion outfit, do just that with their latest single, "Say What You Want." Merging modern pop's catchiness with a touch of retro and nostalgia, they make a bold entrance into the scene with this captivating release. https://open.spotify.com/track/73dc9h3ukMLWIrjKkkT1xv?si=fe81b67a92c347c4 Since their inception, the band has released three singles and an EP, each showcasing their dedication to blending contemporary pop with elements of yesteryear. In "Say What You Want," they've refined their sound, presenting a lively, groovy tune that stands out among their previous work. The single delves into breaking barriers and speaking your truth, even when met with others' disapproval. Powerhouse female vocals bring this message to life, conjuring the energy of legends like Florence Welch. These captivating vocals harmonize with funky instrumentals, resulting in a truly irresistible listening experience. The band's groovy essence shines in this track, featuring catchy basslines and tight rhythms that will get you moving. The six members demonstrate their musical prowess, skillfully weaving their instruments into a rich tapestry of sound without overcrowding the mix. A sense of joy and playfulness permeates "Say What You Want," striking a chord with listeners. The single exudes a lighthearted, happy-go-lucky vibe, transporting us to a time of roller discos and spontaneous dance parties. Their retro sound respectfully recalls the '70s and '80s' finest moments while also blending in seamlessly with the modern music scene. In terms of production, "Say What You Want" is sleek and well-crafted. The team behind the record successfully translated the band's electrifying live energy into the studio version. The mix is well-balanced, giving each instrument room to shine without overshadowing the others. "Say What You Want" by The Passing Sages is a welcome and upbeat addition to the music landscape. It is absorbing and enjoyable to listen to their distinctive combination of funk, pop, and vintage elements. With its catchy hooks, anthem-like vocals, and contagious feeling of fun, the tune transports us on a high-octane journey that leaves us wanting more. With this outstanding album, The Passing Sages have lifted the bar, and we can't wait to see where their musical journey takes them next. Follow The Passing Sages on Facebook, Twitter, YouTube and Instagram.

[texastheband]

Texas - Say What You Want (Acoustic Version) B-side from ‘Black Eyed Boy’ single

Where to buy: at Discogs

[theresaanne]

#SayWhatYouWant

summer 2023!!!!

take every opportunity to swim

read every single day

be crushingly vulnerable

open up your heart

dance forever

go to the beach

find yourself in everything

say what you want

[imkijafa]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Kijafa (@imkijafa)

"@nativeinstruments thank you for pulling up in a real way, this is only the beginning." -- Georgia Ann #GeorgiaAnn #NativeInstruments #SoulOfAnation #BlackPower #TheBroad #Blessed #SonOfAlegend #GeorgiaMuldrow #DeeMartin #TheMartins #OnDrums #Grateful #GeorgiaAnnMuldrow #Maschine #MyMaschine #Drums #Blessed #SayWhatYouWant #ImKijafa (at The Broad) https://www.instagram.com/p/B3Yd3OIl-a2/?igshid=yx2p6g9o22o7

[juicybabydoll]

How I’m trying to be with somebody’s granddaddy! #saywhatyouwant #wherehisoldassat #comeonbaby #annanicolesmith #lovethatbitch #lovelyelizabeth https://www.instagram.com/p/Bx6arDzg9Uk/?igshid=txz4w72msiji

[saramackenzie1982]

It's both. I'm screaming through my works to reach you. Do you hear me? I hear you. You're there, Hiding under covers. Come out, little one. Child, I hear you. #ScreamItOut #SayWhatYouWant #SayYourTruth #ImReachingYou #PickUp #Comfort #RockYouToSleep #AFriendToRunTo #WritingForMe #ItsAllForYou #LoveMom #AuthorUnleashed #ReadOn #IveGotYourBack https://www.instagram.com/p/CeOepYnOeuz/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[teamushernz]

•U S H E R • #A #AppleMusic #Usher #SauceKing #BirthdayBehavior #IssaVibe #ATL #Birthday #PeaceSign #SayWhatYouWant #YouDecide RP: @kath_team_ur 🙏🏼😍😘 https://www.instagram.com/p/Bo4zhNXhflT/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1sznxxu2ulnwd

[texastheband]

Texas V Wu-Tang Clan

Interview by Steven Daly Photography by Peter Robathan Taken from The Face - December 1997

It’s the pop story of ’97, the most unlikely end to a weird year: TEXAS collaborating with the WU-TANG CLAN. First, a Scottish rock band on the verge of slip-sliding away into a tasteful obscurity was reborn via a slew of hit singles and a glut of stylish imagery. Now, in New York, their Brit-cool meets hip hop in a mutually beneficial deal. For everyone concerned, it’s all they need to get on…

Sharleen Spiteri took the call in her front hall. "Yo, Peach," growled a strange voice over transatlantic wires. The gentleman caller was none other than Ol’ Dirty Bastard, court jester of New York hip hop dynasty the Wu-Tang Clan. Apparently Mr Bastard fancied working with Spiteri and her band, Texas. It all started in August, with one of Texas’ managers discussing Land Rovers with someone called Power in New York, who turned out to be the manager of the Clan. A video of Texas’ "Say What You Want" was dispatched, and prodigiously gifted Wu-Tang chieftain RZA signed on to do a re-recording of the single for a prospective single project. Original rapper OI’ Dirty Bastard was replaced by Method Man, the next Clan member with a solo album scheduled.

The hook-up with the Wu-Tang Clan is the perfect climax to a year that’s seen Texas rise from a tumbleweed-strewn grave to grab the pole position in British Pop. A year in which Glasgow’s Sharleen Spiteri has stared out, defiantly remade and remodelled, from every magazine cover and TV show. From a media point-of-view, Texas’ – Spiteri’s – reconfiguring of music and fashion has been the year’s dream ticket. Ever since Bryan Ferry took the innovative step of getting Anthony Proce in to design Roxy Music’s wardrobe in the early seventies, successive phases of pop’s history have thrown up performers who use the fashion photographers, stylists and designers du jour to present The Package. It is these performers who most often capture the youthful mood of their time: that’s why you can see the vulgar glamour of the Seventies in the cut of Ferry’s sleazy lounge-lizard jib; the naive aspiration of the early Eighties in the box-suited and pixie-booted "style" of Spandau Ballet; and the onset of the late-Eighties mixing and matching of different cultures in Neneh Cherry’s Buffalo Stance. When we look back at 1997 we will see in Texas’ sound and vision a new mix, all to do with living the high life but keeping it real. Catwalk and street, the designer and the understated, Prada and Nike; the slick and the cred. Ten years’ gone Scottish guitar outfit and this season’s bright young labels (in both senses). The setting too, has helped. Fashion, again, is big cultural business. Clever pop stars (Goldie! Liam!) want to be seen by the runway and hanging out at fashion parties; young designers yearn to be visible on the stage or the podium (viz. Antonio Berardi’s autumn London show at Brixton Academy). Factor in a paucity of self-motivating, button-pressing, songwriting, photogenic women in British music, and you have a ready-made media phenomenon.

Sharleen Spiteri is holding court at a New York restaurant with a gang of Calvin Klein employees who’ve just accompanied her to the VH-1 Fashion Awards. The annual ceremony is a mutually convenient arrangement, a TV cluster-fuck where the music and fashion industries exchange credibility and cachet. Texas are contemplating just such an exchange themselves, having recently been given the OK by CK. (Tommy Hilfiger has also made overtures.) Spiteri is to have an audience with Klein himself; she’s already been bribed with a trunkful of CK merch, including the streaked black dress – "inspired by [the artist] Brice Marden" – she’s wearing tonight.

Someone suggests that Texas would be perfect for Fashionably Loud, an MTV special where models strut on stage as the hot bands of the moment rock out. "Forget it," quips Spiteri. "there’s only room for one star up where we play." If Spiteri were to join Kate Moss and Christy Turlington on the Calvin Klein payroll it would not, as she sees it, detract from Texas’ music. "Fashion and music have always been connected, and now more than ever," says the singer. "You couldn’t have one without the other. If there’s shit music at a runway show it just doesn’t work."

Meanwhile, there’s the songs. With "White On Blonde", Texas’ fourth album, the music takes care of itself. Radio-friendly unit-shifters abound, helped on their way by producers Mike hedges (manic Street Preachers) and Manchester’s Grand Central. The singles have been, in sequence, nu-soul fresh ("Say What You Want"), springy pop ("Halo"), Motown-sunny ("Black Eyed Boy") and winter warming ("Put Your Arms Around Me"). The B-side remixers have covered all bases in these dance-savvy late Nineties, ranging from of-the-moment talents like the Ballistic Brothers and Trailerman to old stand-bys like Andy Weatherall and 808 State. Texas, patently, lost their dancefloor cherry by cherry-picking the brightest and the best.

Of course, while the singles have all enjoyed heavy airplay and gone top ten, and while "White on Blonde" has sold two million copies (more than its two predecessors put together), the remixes haven’t necessarily helped those sales. As the go-faster stripes of credibility on the solid saloon car, though, they’ve still been essential to The Package; all part of the thoroughly modern mix.

So now, the Wu-Tang Clan. To many, though, this latest development could smack of opportunism. One group are renegade roughnecks who mythologise themselves in epic hip hop anthems; the others are fastidiously tasteful Scots with an eye for perfectly modern consensus-pop. The Wu-Tang Clan are certainly among the aesthetically correct names that Texas always drop in interviews, but can there possibly be a legitimate connection between the two? "A lot of the Wu-Tang backing tracks have the feel of soundtracks, and we’ve always gone for a cinematic sound," says Johnny McElhone, Spiteri’s genial songwriting partner and bass player. "And I’ve always liked Al Green, and they use a lot of Willie Mitchell, Al Green, that whole Hi Records sound, and make it modern. And Marvin Gaye: Method Man, in that duet with Mary J. Blige, used ‘You’re All I Need To Get By."

Having dominated the charts in Europe this year, Texas are now, logically, turning their attention to America: the country that has always inspired them, whether it’s the dusty, pseudo-roots sound of their first three albums, or the iconic-soul and post-soul sounds of Memphis and Staten Island that they give props to now; the place where success has always eluded them. Yet given the commercial momentum of "White on Blonde", their approach to the Wu-Tang Clan is surely not driven by desperation. They are, then, viewing the collaboration with a combination of fan-like wonder and disbelief.

"Method Man is just a wicked, wicked rapper," enthuses Spiteri. "I can’t wait to hear the combination of my vocals and his – I‘m really excited about it. I have a kind of sweet, virginal thing going on, and he’s got this dirty sex vibe. It could be the perfect marriage."

It’s a Saturday night in Manhattan, and ten storeys above Times Square, Sharleen Spiteri sits on the floor of a recording studio, tinkering with her latest high-tech gadget, a Philips computer about the size of a TV remote. Across the street, three ten-foot high electronic ticker-tapes provide testimony to Monday’s stockmarket crash. No matter how much Spiteri plays with her new toy, there’s still that nagging worry: what if the Wu-Tang Clan won’t show? They’re supposed to be on a tour bus returning from a gig in Washington, DC today, but these, after all, are the original masters of disaster. The crew whose normal modus operandi seems to be chaos. The band that recently quit a national tour because only five of the nine members could be relied upon to turn up.

The studio has been booked since six, so Spiteri and McElhone breathe signs of relief when RZA and his posse finally roll in around ten. Among the dozen-strong throng, they’re surprised to see Wu-Tang member Reakwon, a stout fellow with a Mercedes cap and a Fort Knox of gold dental work. Several cigars are hollowed out, their contents replaced with weed; bottles of Cristal champagne and Hennessy are passed around as the air grows thick with smoke.

Half an hour later, method Man makes his entrance. Stooped over, he looks deceptively short – maybe only six-four in his Hilfiger fleece hoodie. "I’m John-John," he tells Sharleen, referring to his alias, Johnny Blaze. Pulling out the big blunt from behind his ear, Method Man considers the job at hand. "She got a nice voice," drawls the laconic giant. "This band not exactly my type of listening material, but they going in the right direction, if you ask me, by fucking with us. I’m waiting for RZA to put down a beat, hear how the vocals sound melded with the track before I come with ideas. I’m one of those guys."

As his friends get on with the serious business of partying, RZA goes to work, feeding a succession of sample-laden discs into a sampler. He has a diffident, genius-at-work charisma about him as he sits with his back to the room, keyboard at side. With a flick of his prodigiously ringed hand he reaches out and conjures up a brutal bassline. The speakers pulse violently. RZA takes a sip of Hennessy. "Record this, right here!" he tells the bewildered-looking engineer.

RZA has decided to dispense with the original master tapes, shipped over from Britain. He wants a completely new version, recorded rough-and-ready without the standard safety net of a time-code. This convention-trashing, wildstyle approach to recording elicits some consternation from the studio’s engineer, a central-casting white guy who warns RZA: "You won’t be able to synch to this, you know." RZA waves him away and turns to Johnny McElhone. "This riff is in E," McElhone tells RZA. "Maybe we should try it in the original key, D." "What are you saying? I understand no keys," says RZA. "You want me to sing the whole song straight through?" asks Spiteri, trying to divine RZA’s intentions. He orders the lights turned down, and offers Sharleen some herbal inspiration. She politely declines and walks to the vocal booth. "What’s her name? Sheree?" asks RZA as Spiteri warms up. The engineer wants to know if he should maybe start recording. "Always record everything!" exclaims RZA. "Ready, get set, go! Play and record, play and record!" Spiteri rattles of a perfect new version of ‘Say What You Want’, grooving along by herself and passionately acting out every word, even the ones borrowed from Marvin Gaye’s ‘Sexual Healing". Now it’s time for Method Man, who at this point is so herbally inspired that he can hardly open his eyes. He jumps up and lopes around the main room, running off his newly written rhymes and clutching a bottle of Crystal. Method walks up to the mic and opens his mouth, and that treacly baritone sets a typically morbid scene: "Fifteen men on a dead man’s chest…" The Texas duo just look at each other, shaking their heads in awe.

The hours and the rhymes pass. Around 6am, things are starting to get a little weird. As Method Man snoozes on the sofa, RZA bounces off the walls, dancing like a dervish. "These are the new rhythms," he yells. "These are the new dances from Africa. I learned them when I was there last week!" McElhone and Spiteri crack up. The engineer probably wishes he were in Africa right now; he further draws RZA’s ire by making a mistake as he runs off some rough cassettes. As everyone says goodbye, RZA decides that he’s taking the studio’s sampler – he already has two of the $3,500 items, but at this point it’s all about the wind-up. The engineer, though, having last seen the end of his tether a good few hours ago, has had enough. By the commencement of office hours that morning, the rest of the session will have been cancelled and the band and Clan banned from this studio.

After a few frantic phone calls later that morning, a studio is found that is prepared to let the Wu-Tang Clan through the door. With one precondition: only two of them are allowed in the studio. Now it’s midnight, and four-fifths of Texas watch a trio of RZA-hired session men go through their paces. They shift effortlessly through a handful of soul and funk styles, and the Scots mutter approval. These are the kind of players that are so good they can get away with wearing questionable knitwear.

Soon, another couple of Wus pop in. Then another couple. In the control room RZA orders up a bottle of Hennessy and talks about hearing "Say What You Want" for the first time. "I didn’t fully understand the sound of it," admits the soft-spoken maestro. "It was obviously a popular song, a radio song, and my sound is the total opposite. But I thought that the artist had something, so I thought: "Let’s take her and rock her to my beat."

"Sweet soul, that’s what her stuff sounded like to me. Smooth. It reminded me of the Seventies: in those days, they did songs that would fit anywhere. If you went to a club getting high it would fit; if you was cleaning up your house it would fit. That’s when you’ve got a real great song right there." Whether or not "Say What You Want" is a great song, it’s not quite coming together tonight. Despite the best offers of the studio management, a full complement of Wu posse members ended up in the house. As the night drags on the trio of musicians don’t get with the track, and by eight the following morning there is little in the way of usable material. But everyone stays upbeat. Texas will work on the track in Glasgow, and send it back to RZA to finish, along with a new song based around one of his samples. After vowing to stay in touch, everyone stumbles out into the Manhattan morning light together, the Scots with an American name, and the Clan without a tartan.

From a distance the collaboration will continue. But it’s only a different kind of distance. Culturally, creatively, the gap between the Wu-Tang Clan and the old twang clan is considerable. Yet so it goes, this cross-cultural exchange programme. Whether it’s The Stones copping blues movies, Bowie digging the Philadelphia Sound, Lisa Stansfield getting soulful with Barry White, Sting getting doleful with Puff Daddy… Whether it’s Todd Terry reviving Everything But The Girl or Armand Van Helden making Sneaker Pimps the unwitting jumpstarters of speed garage, naked opportunism and risk-taking innovation have always been confused. Now, with genres blurred and tricknology proceeding apace, anything is possible and everything is permitted. Perhaps it is this, the sheer unlikeliness, that makes the Texas-Wu experiment the most illuminating collaboration of the year. Whether it works or not.

"If you play her stuff in a club, everybody be dancing, but it’s a clear room and you can see everybody’s face," RZA reflects on the departing Sharleen Spiteri. "But if you play mine, the room is smoky." And perhaps it is here, among the clouds and the clarity, between the smoke and the mirrors, where a new sound and vision lies.

Text originally posted on texasindemand.com

[kindof-sometimes-maybe]

7.7 I remember the first time I saw Sharleen Spiteri. Are you ready maybe Are you willing to run Are you ready to let yourself drown Are you holding your breath Are you ready or not Are you ready maybe Do you long to confess Do you feel that you're already numb Are you sure of yourself Would you lie if you're not #texas #whiteonblonde #sharleenspiteri #saywhatyouwant #putyourarmsaroundme #halo #nowplaying #nowspinning #vinylpodee #vinyl #vinyligclub #vinyladdict #vinyljunkie #vinylig #vinyloftheday #vinylporn #vinylcommunity #needledrop #33rpm #igvinyl #recordcollector #recordcollection #discogs #vinylcollection #vinylcollectionpost #instavinyl #黑膠唱片 #黑胶唱片

[natalieraneenrb-blog]

Couldn’t have said any better myself! #beanadult #donthint #manup #womanup #speakyourmind #wereadults #thisisnthighschool #childish #ignorehints #bedirect #beanadult #getsboringfast #adultlife #saywhatyoumean #saywhatyouwant #saywhatyoufeel #growup

[keynotez]

Life could be colorful don’t make it grey ! #keynotez #opinionsdontmatter #saywhatyouwant #photograpy (at Asbury Park, New Jersey)

[wildwoodbloom]

Its 2018 and if you're still not being upfront with other people for the small price of $10.99 I can show you the way!!!!!

[burtonsdoodles]

Tell me what you see... ? ? ? #abstractart #art #colour #saywhatsee #saywhatyouwant #saywhatyoufeel #delirium #curiosity #abstractpainting #abstract #abstractexpressionism #abstractphotography #abstractartist #digitalart #digitalartist #digitalpainting #madness #artistsoninstagram #artist #artistsnetwork #bold #weirdart #burtonsdoodles https://www.instagram.com/p/CKR67C1noAV/?igshid=18aoujge2lyrz

[pastelunicornrainbowlove]

Say what you want but you NEVER say it with violence!

Gerard Way

[laceyblayze]

People will judge you without knowing who you are, people will wish you bad things without knowing your story, but you 𝗗𝗢𝗡'𝗧 have to listen to them. 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪! 🙅🏼‍♀️💯 Photo by @nicotinebanditphoto . ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ #model #graffiti #graffitiart #graffitiwall #beyourself #hatersgonnahate #judgementalpeople #whocares #saywhatyouwant #artsy #beauty #makeup #fashion #ootd #workhardplayharder #photooftheday #empoweredwomen #madeformore #delicious #bethechange #portrait #beauthentic #selfloveisthebestlove #abstractart #creativeartist #higherself #betterchoices #liveauthentic #seeksimplicity #instagood (at Lake Dolores Waterpark) https://www.instagram.com/p/CGniUJWpvt-/?igshid=e2udozggtfe