#they can go get drunk later and smooch the loneliness away

[deadgcrl-rip]

               ☽                   her  first  christmas  without  her  family.  not  that  the  holiday  had  ever  amounted  to  much  outside  of  gift  exchange,  obligatory  dinner(s)  and  mandatory  office  parties;  nothing  truly  festive,  but  it  was  still  strange.  it  was  nice,  though,  not  being  alone.  since  his  agreement  in  taking  her  case,  they  hadn’t  spent  much  time  apart.    ❛   hey!  i...  got  you  something.  it’s  not  much,  but  uh...  it’s  christmas.  ❜  arms  outstretch,  small  box  neatly  wrapped  in  her  hands.  it  wasn’t   much--  something  for  his  work. he  never  let  her  pay,  so  this  worked  too,  right?  a  new  camera.  in  tilting  her  head  back,  she  just  manages  to  catch  the  mistletoe  hanging  above  their  heads  and  there’s  a  soft  flush  of  pink  that  rushes  to  her  cheeks.  ❛   and-- ah. mm.  ❜  as  soon  as  he  takes  the  box,  she  leans  up  and  presses  a  tender  kiss  to  his  cheek.  

 @finleystevens​  said:  mistletoe.

[sinceileftyoublog]

Robert Ellis Live Preview: 3/28, Old Town School of Folk Music, Chicago

Photo by Alexandra Valenti

BY JORDAN MAINZER

“When did everybody get so self-aware?” Robert Ellis facetiously quips on “Nobody Smokes Anymore”, a standout track on his hilarious and oddly touching new album Texas Piano Man. The song is a stadium-esque rock song reminiscent of THE Piano Man but one that’s not corny and is instead an ode to our worst habits. “The last years of your life are so shitty anyway,” Ellis shrugs over Elton John-like piano stabs before his band turns the track into a chugging ZZ Top disco country burner a la “Legs”. At one point, he smooches into the microphone. He knows what he’s doing, in on the joke.

Texas Piano Man shows Ellis’ chops as a piano player, singer, songwriter, and lyricist, one with a penchant for both cheeky humor and soul-crushing admissions. His songs have the accessibility of yacht rock, but they’re not going to be played on the radio any time soon. Opener “Fucking Crazy” juxtaposes piano and backup singers--super smooth--with the descriptive title, the two protagonists passionate together and trapped in their minds alone. “He Made Me Do It” is an ELO-meets-doo wop ditty referring to either his drunk self or, possibly darker, schizophrenia. These songs sound light and are played with levity but have heavy undertones. On the surface, they’re “happy as a goldfish,” laden with staccato piano and bright pop melodies, but it’s only a cover for Ellis’ loneliness. “When you’re away, little things overwhelm me,” he sings.

The interplay between Ellis’ words and his band is top-notch on Texas Piano Man. One of the more stunning examples is what might be an otherwise average song, “Passive Aggressive”, Ellis predictably decrying the behavior of a significant other. “I ask you what’s wrong, you say nothing / But you look like you’re about to explode,” he sings as the song builds up. But then, it slows down to a coo as Ellis sympathizes: “That’s no way to lie / I can see it in your eyes.” “Father”, delivered from the point of view of an abandoned kid seeing his father years later, is a smartly minimal ballad, the instrumentation in the background enough for Ellis to hit hard: “I wanted a father, but I’ll settle for a friend.” And “Lullaby” simply has great brush work and soft electric guitar playing.

Of course, there’s a little filler here, and a song like “Let Me In” is cheesy without being charming, the piano too theatrical, the percussion obviously clacking when Ellis sings, “I am knocking on your door”. What’s bound to be the most divisive song on the album is the closer, Ellis’ Tex Mex ode to sparkling water, “Topo Chico”. (Yes, you read that right.) The song could be an ad, Ellis rhyming “bubbly libation” with “focus on hydration.” There’s barroom piano in the bridge. One of the benefits of the drink is that it “keeps your whistle wet,” a line followed by an Ellis whistle. Yet, “Topo Chico” is the type of song that exemplifies the spirit of Texas Piano Man: tight, funny, tongue-in-cheek, worthy of a few shakes of the head, and catchy. Oh, and it’s definitely better than Billy Joel.

7.1/10

Texas Piano Man by Robert Ellis

Ellis plays Old Town School of Folk Music tonight. Ian O’Neil of Deer Tick opens.