#thatcher: threads

[chaoticallycosmic]

Closed starter for @writermuses

If there was one thing that made Thatcher proud, it was his ability to persuade people. In this case, though, he was beyond happy that he had convinced Qadira to stay with him at his very secure home while they figured out how to deal with the stalker she had. It worried him. That some psycho was out there just waiting to make her life miserable, who knew what else they were capable of. He didn't want to even entertain those thoughts. Thinking about what a deranged person could do to her made the historian shiver. So, instead, he focused on making sure his home was a comfortable place for her. That began with making her breakfast, as he had been doing since she arrived. Hearing footsteps, he smiled. "Breakfast will be ready and I have coffee ready for you," he pointed toward the coffee bar with a spatula before turning around to face her. "How did you sleep?"

[sxmthingwicked]

Closed Starter.

@sirxnx

Aaliyah never thought she’d drive down these streets feeling as sad as she did. The news had reached her first and it was absolute hell having to tell Ashley too. They’re parents death came out of nowhere. The trees passed by the car as it moved, the sisters in content silence. They had just spoken a few months ago…everything seemed alright.

Dad was getting better and mom didn’t seem worried about anything like she usually was. Aaliyah’s hands tightened on the wheel a little, her body cringing at the thought that maybe that’s what was wrong. Her mother’s lack of anxiety, either for them or their father should have set off some sort of alarm in Aaliyah’s head. She was the eldest, goddman it. Soon enough, the town came into view and Aaliyah felt her heart beat faster. Casting a glance at the girl in her passenger’s seat, Aaliyah placed a gentle hand on Ashley’s shoulder.

“You…you doing alright there kid?’’

[angelvings-archive]

                            « okay , you guys ! i hope you're hungry       —       one       eggs       benedict       with       a       side       of       hash       browns       and       one       biscuits       and       gravy       ,       with       extra       gravy       ,       of       course       . »       voice       sounds almost       melody       -       like       as       she       recites       their       order       and       carefully slides       the       plates       down       at       the       couple's       table       ,       « enjoy       your       breakfast       ,       and       let       me       know       if       there's       anything       else i can do for you . . . —       , »       sentence       trails       off       as       she       straightens       her posture with the sound of the doorbell greeting a new customer       and       eyes       are       drawn       to       a       hauntingly familiar       face       appearing       in       the       doorway       .                             she's smacked into sudden silence ;       frozen       in       her       step       ,       in       time       ,       eighteen       and       clueless       again       and       with her hands       cupping       his       face       as       she's       telling       him       to       go       despite       her       heart       desperately yearning       for       him       to       stay       . suppressed memories wash over her in a violent wave , threatening to pull her down under , and she's almost dumbfounded as she regains some composure to find the  room  around  them  still  moving  seemingly unaffected .                             body feels rigid with tension as she finally steps forward in his direction , floor like molasses as she forces one foot in front of the other , hands intertwining and settling at her waist to stop nervous fidgety movements . « thatcher     . .   — »       she       speaks       the       name       that had stopped rolling off her tongue years ago ,       as       if       uttering    it out loud       will       make       his       presence       feel       any       more       real       .       eyes       flicker       between       him       and       izzie for a moment , sitting       just       a       couple       booths       down       ,       feet       dangling       off       the       pale       blue       leathered       cushion       and       a       frown       of       concentration       creating       a       deep       furrow       between       the       little       girl's       brows       as       she       struggles       to       color       inside       the       outline       of       a       butterfly       she'd sketched out for her earlier .       « — i       had no       idea       you       were       back       . » / @lastflowcrs .

[heartfe1t]

@storyofwhoiam

i don't know what i'm crying for.

    ❝    i know we always want to put on a strong face for the kids, but... sometimes you need to let yourself be overwhelmed... be tired... you do a lot here.    ❞    she offers elizabeth a reassuring smile, resting her hand on her arm.    ❝    i'm new to this... and you seem so strong, so... gifted, really... the way you are with them... but- no one can be strong all the time.    ❞    

[lghtyear]

⁽ ᴿᴼᴳᴱᴿ ⁾       …     ‘    requested by @priestbit :         still accepting !    ⁽ ᴼᵁᵀ ⁾

smile grows shamefully wide as she sees him , practically running up to him with inexplicable enthusiasm . to say she adored the man was an understatement , that much evident now she'd seen him in his element . jane adored music . she always had . and to see the boy she's sweet on lose himself in his instrument was an experience she adored more than she cared to admit . " donnie , you're amazing ! "

[sxmthingwicked]

Even in moments of such high stress, Auggie always managed to throw a compliment Aaliyah's way. It was a wonder how she could even think after all they had been through. While Jason was too busy sulking at their side, Aaliyah took a deep breath and collected herself. It was foolish to think that they could take on whoever was doing this. They knew too little and we're pretty badly supplied, all things considered.

"Look...if what we are dealing with is...other worldly, we don't know enough. " Aaliyah said. "The radio has already stumped us enough but from what Beth told me two years back, there is an old old radio somewhere in camp. One of the old counselors kept a diary and he was here forty years ago when it happened." She said. "If we know more about...it, then maybe we can defeat it.'' Aaliyah concluded, earning a sarcastic laugh from Jason. "Great, we're actually believing this ghost bullshit.''

"Jason shut the fuck up.''

"Jason, I'm going to need you to shut the fuck up." August said, raising his voice as he turned back to the other, his shoulders raising. "Aaliyah and I were together, we know we weren't doing anything, but we don't know shit about what you were doing." he said, putting himself between his girlfriend and Jason, trying to make sure there was space between them.

His eyes met Aaliyah's offering a shrug. "Well maybe we can stop them. I mean...how realistic is it that we make it out of these woods, huh? Maybe we have a chance if we catch them first?" he offered a shrug. It was a stupid plan, of course. He knew that. Yet the adrenaline was starting to get to his head. He paused, huffing.

"What do you think we should do? You're the brains." he sighed.

[liveshauntedmoved]

a very light curl tugs at his lips, "i mean, if you're sure." he looks out at their group ; it may seem a weird bunch - but, it's not really ; not to him. there was a soft chuckle that falls from his lips, "oh really now? never thought anything relating to me would trend. maybe the world truly is ending."

cont. from here @juhde

[chaoticallycosmic]

Closed starter for: @writermuses

"You know, you're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

[sxmthingwicked]

all images found on pinterest!

@wintxrx

[strangeperfectionss]

Charlie chuckled, shaking his head fondly. It was nice, the way he and Thatcher could joke around. "Ooh. The alliteration is fun, maybe I'll brainstorm something around that," he played along. Charlie watched Thatcher tilt his head and couldn't help but smile even wider. This seemed to be going even better than he hoped it would. Being bold could pay off from time to time. "Definitely on the downright irresistible side of the scale."

"You'll survive," Thatcher promised. He nodded in mock seriousness. "Yeah, you know me. Really need to dot my Is and cross my Ts. Hey, there's your name. Thoroughly Thatcher," he suggested. "I mean, not really, but the alliteration is fun." Thatcher looked up in surprise at Charlie's tone. He tilted his head and started to smile. Oh, so that's how it is, he thought. "Yeah? How appealing? On a scale of barely tolerable to downright irresistible?"

[pucked-bunnie]

and, what about you? ⎜q.hughes

pairings: quinn hughes x reader genre: angst warnings: stressed quinn ⎜over-thinker quinn ⎜ synopsis: everyone knows the captain takes care of everyone, of everything - but who takes care of them? word count: 2.1 k authors note: Quinn was the clear winner of the poll, and this is essentially just filling my need for words of affirmation and how I hope someone takes care of our dear captain, it's a little shorter than normal but i hope you all still enjoy. (UNEDITED)

+

+

The crowd roars as the Canucks win the game - the group of boys flooding the ice to congratulate each other, tapping on helmets as they make their way to the locker room. 

“I’m gonna head down to the locker room, meet you there?” Natalie shouts over the sounds of the blaring alarms and music - you nod quickly, your eyes locked on the captain skating over to his goalie, patting him firmly on the helmet hovering for a few seconds clearly praising Thatcher's game. The two teammates make their way over to the bench, the coach pulling Quinn to the side.

You watch Quinn’s shoulders slump a little and he nods his head, his coach patting him on the shoulder as he lets him walk down the tunnel into the locker room. You say quick goodbyes to the other partners in the area, slinging your bag over your shoulder. 

Your phone dings in your hand, the screen lighting up with a text message. 

quintin 😍: I’m gonna be a little longer than expected, I have to cover Brock's interview. 

pookie ♥️ ️ : Okay, take your time. 

You find a spot beside the entrance to the locker room, pulling out the AirPods tucked into your bag. Knowing Quinn him saying he was going to take longer then expected meant it was going to be over an hour before you would be seeing him. You scroll through your tiktok, making small conversation with the passing players as they join with their families making their own way home. 

Eventually you spot the reporters leaving, a few more team members filing out behind them, the crowds slowly dwindling in the main lobby, though Quinn was nowhere in sight. 

pookie ♥ ️ : everything alright? reporters left twenty minutes ago. 

Your message is seen quickly, the ellipsis popping up into your text thread before disappearing, the cycle repeating a few times before the bubble disappears, no response from Quinn. 

“Hey what are you still doing out here?” A familiar voice says as a body stops in front of you, you glance up at Brock giving him a soft smile as you take out an AirPod. 

“Oh, just waiting for Quinn.” You respond quickly, “He said he was covering interviews, but they left a while ago.” You note softly, Brock tilting his head in confusion. 

“Quinn wasn’t doing interviews tonight.” Brock eyebrows drop in a frown, his eyes darting back to the locker room before back down to you. “No one else is in there, if you wanna head in?” He suggests quietly, patting your shoulder before jogging over to his waiting girlfriend, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as she greets him excitedly. 

You watch them for a few more moments, the happy couple leaving hand in hand before you turn towards the entrance, glancing around as you walk into the large room, it’s easy to spot the captain, his arms resting on his knees, his hockey jersey in the basket in the middle of the room, the rest of his gear still strapped to his body. 

“Babe?” You call softly, taking slow steps towards the deep in thought man, his hand raking through his hair a few more times before you call out for him again, “Quinn?” 

His head snaps up at your voice, his eyes darting around the empty room before focusing on you. “Oh shit.” He curses under his breath, his hand moving to undo the velcro straps of his chest pads. 

“Quinn, are you okay?” You question as you drop on the bench next to him, watching as he rushes to take off his remaining gear. 

“Yeah, of course.” He says quickly, shooting you an apologetic grin as he pulls the pads over his head. “Just got lost in thought.” 

You glance over to Quinn every now and then as he makes quick work of his uniform, pulling on a large hoodie and sweatpants, grabbing his phone and wallet from the shelf of his locker before turning towards you. 

“I’ll shower when I get home.” He promises as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your cheek, his fingers twining with yours as he grips your hand tightly. You wrap your other hand tightly around your joined hands, lifting them to press a kiss against the back of his hand. 

“You played amazing today, Quinn.” You praise, letting your hands drop to swing between the two of you as Quinn leads you both to the garage, pulling his car keys out of his pocket. “I’m so proud of you, you’ve done so much for this team.” You continue, Quinn shaking his head, his hand releasing yours as you both climb into the car. 

“We still have play offs to get through.” Quinn says with a long sigh, his eyes focusing in front of him as he pulls out the parking space, making his way out of the garage. Quinn’s body stays tense as his eyes remain forwards, his focus anywhere but on the way you watch him, your eyes looking over all his signs of discomfort. 

Quinn stays silent for the fifteen minute drive back to your apartment - game nights usually meant your boyfriend stayed at your place, Elias and Quinn enjoying the time apart to wind down. 

You follow behind Quinn as he makes his way to the elevator, his hand not reaching for yours like he normally would, his body pushing him to make it into your cozy apartment. He unlocks your front door with his spare key, dropping the bag from his trunk besides the front door, kicking off his sneakers. 

You sneak in behind him, softly closing the door as he runs his fingers through his hair, his hands rubbing at his face. “Quinn, I want you to answer me honestly.” You begin softly, leaning against the back of your couch, your hand clasped in front of you. “Are you okay?” 

“Huh?” He asks, his hands dropping from his face, “of course I am.” He answers quickly, he tries to smile, to erase your concern, but his smile falters as you remain silent, your brows furrowed in concern. 

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” He says, “I mean I’m living the dream right, playing my favourite sport for a living, captain of the team I’ve played on for six years, we’re going to the playoffs and I’ve got a beautiful girlfriend to top it all off.” He continues his voice carrying a sharp edge to it. 

You continue the silence, hoping that maybe making him face the discomfort will give you a look into his mind. 

“What do you want me to say?” He finally asks, throwing his hands in a shrug. 

“I don’t know… I just want to know what’s going on inside your head.” You respond, “I want to be able to help relieve some of your stress. I wanna be able to take care of you if you’re not feeling great.” You add, watching as Quinn’s mouth drops in a frown. 

“I don’t need you to take care of me.” He snaps, his tone more hostile than expected, your body pushing off the couch as you move to step forwards, your boyfriend taking a step away from you. “I’m supposed to take care of you” He says, pointing towards you for emphasis, “That’s my job. I’m supposed to take care of things at home and at work, that’s what a good leader does.” 

“And, what about you?” You question softly, your arms crossing over your chest, a feeble attempt at trying to keep yourself together. “What about you, Quinn… Who takes care of you?” 

You watch the emotions flash over Quinn’s face whatever facade he had kept going for the past twenty four hours faltering. 

“Babe, you have so much on your plate right now, so much responsibility… let me take some of it, even just for a little while.” 

“Why?” He asks, his voice barely a whisper. 

“Because that’s my job.” You answer, “Because if you’re not going to take care of you, then I will. Because relationships are about lifting each other up but sometimes we just have to catch each other when we fall.” Your words are gentle as you step towards him. 

“Quinn, it’s okay to fall sometimes.” Your heart sinks as you watch his face crumble, a heavy sob escaping his chest as you close the distance, pulling his body to yours. Quinn remains stiff as you wrap your arms around his neck, his face dropping against your shoulder as his body shakes. 

“I’m just so tired.” His voice cracks as he speaks, finally his arms moving to constrict around your waist, your body the only thing grounding him. “I feel like I can’t breathe.” Another round of choked sobs rip from him, one of your hands gently soothing over his back, the other smoothing the back of his head. 

“You’re going to be okay.” You coo, your throat constricting as you swallow down your own tears, your heart cracking in two at the state of your boyfriend, the hurt in his voice. 

The two of you remain in the lounge room, your arms wrapped around each other, stuck in a standstill as Quinn lets out everything that had been weighing him down, his sobs slowly turning into sniffles, his arms squeezing around you when you move to step back. 

“No.” He grumbles. 

“Come with me.” You whisper, finally detaching him from you, your hands grabbing his as you pull him towards the couch, you take your spot lying down on the cushions before motioning for him to follow. Quinn seems hesitant at first, his breathing shallow before he nods joining you on the couch, his body thrown over yours, his head pressed against your chest as you resume your ministrations on his back, drawing soft shapes against his jumper. 

“Share something with me.” You say, “Give me something to hold onto for you for a little while.” 

“Like what?” He speaks against your shirt, the words muffled slightly by the fabric. 

“Anything.” He takes a deep breath at your words. 

“Rick said something to me today.” He starts, you nod slowly recounting the coach pulling the young captain aside, your hand raises to the collar of Quinn’s hoodie softly slipping under the fabric to continue your soothing on his skin. “He said he was proud of me.” 

Your movements pause, waiting for Quinn to elaborate. 

“He said that he couldn’t think of a better leader for the team, and that he knew that I was going to take us further than anyone imagined.” Quinn lets out a long sigh, “I just can’t find it in me to believe him.” Your eyebrows raise at his comment, your head tilting as you consider what to say. 

“You’re not proud of yourself?” 

“I don’t know.” He mumbles back. “I know I should be, but a part of me just feels like I haven’t done enough, like I haven’t achieved enough to feel pride.” 

“Well, that’s okay.” You start, “I can be proud of you for both of us.” Quinn raises his head, resting his chin against your sternum as he glances up at you. 

“Really?” 

“I’ll just hold onto it until you're ready, no matter how long it takes.” You smile as you watch Quinn’s face relax a little, his own smile light on his face, as he leans forwards pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. 

“You have no idea how special you are, Quinn.” You remind him as you raise your hand to push his floppy brown locks out of his face. “But I hope one day you let yourself feel it.” 

“And, what about you?” Quinn asks, throwing your own question back in your face. “Do you know how special you are?” 

“Probably not, but I’m trying my best to figure it out.” You smile once more, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead before reaching to the coffee table for the remote. 

“I should go shower.” Quinn says as he drops his head back to your chest, his body making no moves to walk down your hallway to the bathroom. 

“You probably should.” You agree with a laugh as Quinn grabs one of your hands placing it back in his hair, a soft sigh of content escaping him as you scrape your nails against his scalp.  

“Thank you.” He whispers, his eyes squeezed shut as you press one more kiss to his head. 

“You don’t have to thank me, it's my job.” He lets out a soft chuckle, his body relaxing further as he falls asleep to the sound of mindless reality TV, your chest swelling with the pride of two people as you glance down at your boyfriend finally resting. 

[liveshauntedmoved]

Maya let out a soft laugh, "I mean... you're not wrong there." She just happens to have a very small attention span, and that hat had taken most of her attention away. "He very much did."

cont. from here @juhde

[thesiltverses]

with the finale approaching, i just wanted to say thank you so much for the wonderful story you've written, and the incredible characters you've developed to convey it to its conclusion. particularly, i want to commend you for how well-written VAL is, as someone who both takes advantage of the cruelty and senseless violence of the system for her own gain (or at least tries to) and someone who was failed and taken advantage of by it. it's no small feat to thread the needle between making a character like that too sympathetic to feel genuinely threatening, or too monstrous to be anything but a conveniently hateful scapegoat for blaming the entire systematic corruption that has infected the foundations of the power structures in the story on, but VAL really does feel like a masterclass in achieving that complexity and nuance in a single character (in general, you excel at this with your characters, and your ability to navigate that perpetrator/victim spectrum without turning it into a binary dichotomy is one of my favourite things about the podcast). admittedly, my appreciation for her might call to mind the eric andre "do you think margaret thatcher had girl power" bit a little more than you intended, and i may come away from the finale with egg on my face for having stood by her so ardently this season, but she's brought me more genuine joy and inspiration than i've felt in years (which is perhaps not the strongest endorsement for my own psychological stability, but so be it). so thank you, and to marta da silva as well, for bringing life to such a compellingly tragic horror of a character.

Thank you so much for the really kind words, they're really appreciated!

Val has clearly been a breakout character this season, and so much of the thanks does have to fall on Marta da Silva for that - especially when it comes to the nuance and complexity you're talking about.

She's done such a fantastic job of making the character both deeply vulnerable and deeply terrifying (often in the same scene) - just a really, really talented actor and an incredibly lovely person as well.

(You can also hear her as one of the three leads in Sherlock & Co, incidentally.)

[plummoons]

All his life Nick had lived behind a mask. From a young age, a tougher exterior kept him safe from the abuse his father inflicted. A child is meant to explore the world without fear. See it for all the wonder it has to behold but that innocence was stolen from Nick. The reality world was harsh. There was no dream he could hide in to protect him. No mother's embrace to shelter him from all that could harm him. It was Nick who had to be the protector. In the most formative years of his life, he learned that monsters weren't just in the outside world. They were also within.

The military offered no escape either. If anything, it allowed him to further crawl into this persona he had created to keep him safe. Where Nick began and the mask ended was a fine line, easily blurred together. The alias he once carried was his new identity. Nicholas Bishop was a buried man metaphorically. Unfortunately for Nick, he soon became a buried man physically. His death and rebirth had happened many times. One might have considered death to be his long-standing friend. She was always there in the background, biding her time for when it was appropriate to strike. Her most recent endeavor led him here, where he was once again Nicholas Bishop. There was no mask he could hide behind anymore. For the first time in his life, he was laid bare for all to see.

Nick knew there was no way to hide from the man standing before him. He felt completely exposed, as if every inch of him was laid bare. Lucian's tone chilled Nick to the bone. He wasn’t one to play games, nor did he appreciate being mocked. "I am." his overconfidence often leads him into tricky situations. “Who says I’m runnin' from owt?” his tone was colored with defiance. His second line of defense behind his giant stature. It wasn't often he came face to face with someone - quite literally. "M'used to carryin' heavy things. Nowt I can't handle."

It took a lot for Nick to crumble under pressure. They were in a duel of wits now. He was too calculated to let Lucian see his mask fall. There was truth in the other's words. One misstep and a whole facade could crumble. Nick could never afford to let that happen. There was always too much at stake. He remained unmoving as the darkness inched close, bright blue eyes watching him like a wolf eyeing its prey. He wasn't going to give Lucian any satisfaction.

"I came looking for answers. If you're not going to give 'em to me straight I'll find someone else. I'm not here for your flowery words or games." A smirk danced across his lips, head pulling back so he could look Lucian dead in the eyes. "I'd consider myself a dog rather than a curious cat."

Lucian regarded Nick with a faint, knowing smile, the kind that shimmered in the dim light with an unsettling clarity, as though his gaze could pierce through every shadow the other bore. There was nothing he couldn't read in him, no flicker of doubt or hidden scar that escaped his notice. To Lucian, the man standing before him was laid bare. a soul bruised by unanswered questions, haunted by whispers that longed for answers. It thrilled him.

A low, rich chuckle rumbled from Lucian’s chest, a sound edged with a sort of delighted mockery. Brow arched, voice dripping with a smooth, taunting cadence “Expecting you?”

“ Let's just say I've met enough men running from their own darkness to know the look. Yours… it’s particularly heavy, isn’t it?” His words lingered, sinking into the silence like a stone into deep waters.

Stance remained unyielding, head tilted, gaze sharp and unbroken. He remained unyielding as the other closed the distance “You seem confident," a sly admiration slipping through his tone. “But confidence is a fragile thing, a delicate mask that shatters with the slightest misstep.” Lucian took a small stepped forward, closing the gap between them, letting his presence become a quiet, pressing force.

He leaned in, voice lowering to a whisper that lingered warm against Nick’s ear “So, Nick… what brings you to the edge of your own darkness tonight? Are you seeking answers, or simply curious to see just how deep the darkness goes? curiosity killed the cat.. you know. ”

[harrisonarchive]

Photo by Terry O’Neill.

“There’s also been a strong political thread throughout Harrison’s music, from the recent ‘Cockamamie Business’ back to the White Album’s ‘Piggies.’ ‘That was social comment, and it’s still the same today. Especially now, with glasnost, and communism going away, they’ve got to have a good reason not to give that money to the poor, or redivert it into helping the planet become safe and unpolluted.’ He mentions his involvement in a British environmental movement ‘similar to what Meryl Streep’s doing in America, Parents for Safe Food. The poison is everywhere, on your potatoes, tomatoes — not to mention the air we breathe. The basic problem is that the agrochem­ical industries have a stranglehold on the government. They’re all in cahoots.’ George laughs sharply. ‘They’re probably all freemasons as well. ‘What we need is an honest army that goes around busting those guys, because they’re the ones ruining this planet. But then what you find is that the people causing the most environmental damage are the industrialists. And the Dow Jones people. Buy buy buy! Sell sell sell! This madness that Reagan and Thatcher created, this idea that everyone is much better off now, everyone is more in debt, there’s more concrete, we’ve sacrificed the planet for the motor car... that’s why I can’t practice the guitar any­more,’ George sighs. ‘I’m so crazed by what they’ve done to our planet.’ Though he’s more comfortable with his privacy, Harrison isn’t shy about using his celebrity to promote progressive causes. ‘If you’ve got a platform to speak from, you should speak,’ he says flatly. ‘But it’s always musicians and film people who are doing the work government is really sup­posed to be doing. They collect taxes to take care of everybody, and instead they’re off playing their little games with missiles. And the same people who call this the devil’s music are the ones com­plaining, “Who do these people think they are?” It’s like you can’t win. But it also shows there are a lot of good people out there. And most of them are musicians!’” - Musician, March 1990 (x)

[depressedraisin]

Parklife (1994) and Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino (2018): What does it mean to be an album of the times?

At face value Blur’s third studio album Parklife, released in 1994, and Arctic Monkeys’ 2018 release Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino, their sixth, are very very very different albums. One the Britpop classic, the other a widely divisive experimentation -- they don’t even seem like they could hang out in the same sentence together. Then what the fuck am I on about?

Both albums are individually iconic in the respective band’s discographies -- with Parklife Blur conquered the heights of the Britpop war and firmly cemented its place in British music history while TBH&C marked a pivotal turn in style for the Monkeys, which in my very humble non-musician opinion, will make it historic sometime in the future. If you have spent as much time as I have overthinking the lyrics and pondering over interviews of another British rock band you are hyperfixating on though, you might see something more connecting these two albums. Written about 20 years away from each other, in wildly different times,  the two weirdly enough, have these faint threads tying in their themes and subject matters. 

Damon Albarn, the principal author of Parklife, described the album to NME as, “a loosely linked concept album involving all these different stories. It's the travels of the mystical lager-eater, seeing what's going on in the world and commenting on it."  Rings a bell? That’s extremely TBH&C coded! That one has often been called a concept album based on a luxury hotel and casino on the moon with various eccentric characters and their stories, wryly commenting on issues plaguing life in the 2010s. 

Parklife was a kind of a study of middle class English life of the mid-90s. With an extremely catchy pop soundscape and cheeky-cockney-laced lyrics about London parks and bank holidays, it became a quintessential symbol of Cool Britannia. They say the album never took off in the States because it was so British. In the years since, however, the band has described it more as sarcastic critique rather than a celebration of Britishness. Going through the lyrics with a fine toothed comb  with that in mind then, you can feel the impatience a bunch of 20s somethings were feeling with the ideal 9-to-5 picket fence lifestyle as well as exhaustion with the hedonistic decadence of youth in the backdrop of an unpopular Conservative-led economy in decline. A similar, if updated for 30 year olds in 2018, sentiment can be sensed in the absurd surrealism of the lyrics of  TBH&C. What do you do when you are fed up with tribulations of life and the ghosts of mistakes you’ve made along the way-- you fuck off and escape into whimsy of science fiction. 

The political context of the time when Parklife and Tranquility Base were released does matter. Opens up another perspective to reading the album.  It’s quite a stretch but bear with me.  

 The 90s in the UK began with Thatcher resigning and the Conservative government which dominated the 80s, becoming increasingly unpopular. There was a recession plaguing the early years of the decade. Britpop happened smack dab in the middle of this, and it was all about reacting to grunge and shoegaze and bringing back what is essentially British back to its music scene. Oasis, Suede, Pulp, Elastica (Justine Frischmann is the queen of Britpop btw) -- and ofcourse, Blur, were reviving guitar pop, singing in working class accents and about working class life and bringing back memories of the Swinging Sixties. Though each drawing from a wide variety of influences, these bands were becoming the face of a wider movement in music, art and youth culture.  The political scene took note.

In the mid-90s, the Labour Party led by Tony Blair quickly aligned itself with Britpop and Cool Britannia. Noel Gallagher and Damon Albarn were being courted by politicians , label execs getting party membership invites, headlines went like “What’s the Story? Don’t vote Tory”. Britpop soon acquired nationalist undertones --- never forget Brett Anderson showing off his twinky waist with Union Jack in the background and “Yanks go home!” headline. 

By the end of the 90s, when Britpop had begun crumbling, the economy had recovered and Tony Blair was in Downing Street.

TBH&C and the Monkeys in general, perhaps have less political currency. When they burst onto the scene with their Sheffield accents and garage rock riffs in the generally stable pre-2008 economic climate, the Arctic Monkeys did occupy the space in British pop culture left vacant by Blur and Oasis in the wake of post Britpop, at least for a time. Their debut broke the record of being the fastest selling one, which used to be held by Elastica previously. The Monkeys were indie rock darlings in the UK and with 2013’s AM, became darlings in the US (and Tumblr) as well. Tranquility Base though, came out in a whole different world. 

2018 was a fucking atrocious time, to put it mildly. The world was in total freefall inching rapidly towards disaster, which ultimately culminated in the pandemic of 2020. Trump had been elected in 2016 and 2018 was arguably one of the peaks of his shitshow. Over in the UK, Theresa May and her Conservative Cabinet were deep in the quagmire of Brexit negotiations. (Gotta note that Turner has said he voted against leaving in the referendum. Albarn is of course, a very vocal critic of Brexit.) Right wing governments were coming into power everywhere it seemed like, the climate crisis took on a new sense of alarm among the larger public - and things only spiralled in the years following. I can’t think of another album which could accurately capture the sheer fatigue of seeing outrageous headline after headline, how desensitised we had all become, how disillusioned with life- in a mason jar like TBH&C has.   

That’s what makes an album legendary doesn’t it? You listen to it and immediately remember what living at the time was like. Even if 1994 was 10 years before I was born. 

Now that we have gotten that out of the way, let’s look at the two albums a little more closely. 

Some lyrics which give me very similar vibes: 

sexual hedonism // start treatment (tbh&c) and girls & boys (parklife)

mundanity of relationships // four stars out of five (tbh&c) and end of century (parklife)

the performativeness of middle class activism/social work // tranquility base hotel and casino (tbh&c) and parklife (parklife)

losing friends and losing touch // the ultracheese (tbh&c) and badhead (parklife) - now these aren't really similar, but i feel a connection. in my bones trust me bro. the whole "i'll grin and bear with it" thing about badhead is very reminiscient of the sense of insouciance about life that haunts tbh&c....almost??

the myth of america // the ultracheese (tbh&c), golden trunks (tbh&) and magic america (parklife) - magic america is making fun of reagan era the american dream while a disillusionment with the glitz and glam of life in la is pretty much consistent throughout tbh&c

a pathological dependence on technology as escapism // jubilee (parklife) and start treatment (tbh&c) - digital cameras and the internet and tvs were taking baby steps into invading our daily lives back in 1994, and by 2018 we were all fully under the vice grip of tech addiction. this parallel i find particularly funny so.

astronomical references // far out (parklife) and star treatment (tbh&c) - alex james, the blur bassist wrote and sung far out about his love of space. it's a pretty nice parallel hey.

For the last one, let's talk about Tracy Jacks from parklife. I couldn't really draw a direct parallel with a song from the other album, but that song spiritually fits right in I feel. An average Joe in the throes of a midlife crisis, teethering so so close to the edge and one day just snaps - that's a character one would expect dwells in the lounge of the Tranquility Base Hotel to drown themselves in the decadence and escape from all their shit, when all is said and done.

Now what's the concluding point of all this rambling. I don't know lolz. Y'all just read a thousand words of nothing.

Just kidding. Actually I read somewhere Damon Albarn was inspired by the 1989 novel London Fields, a science-fiction adjacent black comedy set against the backdrop of an impending nuclear crisis, while writing Parklife. That kinda rung a bell. (Yes, I did wonder if Alex has read this)

I just wanted to see if we can find any interesting connections parrallels or references between Parklife and Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino. I dunno if I've been successful in getting any point across, or it's just pointless waffling on. But one thing that did get confirmed to me once again, these two albums are really the Albums of Their Times. Captures the zeitgeist in such a specific but unique in their own ways, it's really wonderful.

And also studying the legacy and impact of AM with reference to other musical outfits is always fun. I think we can all safely say that AM is well on their way to capturing a seat in the pantheon of great British bands, where somewhere in a corner Blur also sits. Damon Albarn is a fucking legend of course -- from the pretty posh boy of Britpop he has gone to becoming one of the most versatile, experimental and prolific songwriter/composer in the contemporary music scene. He is apparently working on the music for an Goethe's fragmented libretto of Magic Flute Part 2. How many rockstars do you know have composed operas - how fucking dope. I wanna hope that we'll get to see Alex exploring crazy paths in music like this, he definitely has the potential. This whole exercise would probably have made more sense with one of Damon's post-Blur works, his first solo record Everyday Robots or even Blur's last album The Magic Whip, but I started this essay so had to finish it.

Maybe another day eh.