#this album has so much sex it's unimaginable

[viniyur]

my incredibly definite and not at all emotion-based ranking system for daft punk's discovery

[nerdwriting]

The Creative Directors Behind Fate: The Winx Saga Must Not Be K-Pop Fans

Also, they have a pretty wrong idea of the role fashion should play in a show.

There are a few words that will stand out across most reviews of Netflix's Fate: The Winx Saga - drab, boring, flop, flat, unimaginative. Critics and audiences consensus is that the show is not only a mediocre-at-best story, but also an atrocious (and ultimately confusing) choice of adaptation of the color pop and fairy magic cartoon it’s based on, 2004 italian cartoon Winx Club.

Fate has plenty of it's own issues - white washing and erasing characters, cringey dialogue, outdated melodrama, etc. But where it truly, unequivocally fails is as an adaptation. Fate misses everything that was magical and lovable about the original series, in all levels, from bizarre writing choices, - such as never actually developing any sense of friendship between the characters, who are based on a cartoon about…..a group…….of friends -, but it's especially and immediately felt in the art direction and costume design.

Winx Club is set on a fantastical world, Magix, where each of our main characters hail from a different planet, à la Sailor Moon. Alfea, the fairy school they attend, is the most common background: a pastel colored, futuristic high tech-meets-fantasy, art nouveau inspired castle. Alfea sets the tone for the whole visual of the cartoon: bright, colorful, futuristic meets vintage, leaning into the technological positivism of the Y2K style, uniting it with magic, DnD worthy monsters and, of course, fairy wings. Often featured are also the Red Fountain school, where the Specialists train, and especially Cloud Tower, the goth and gothic inspired witch school Alfea has an OxBridge rivalry with (How cool would that be in a live action? I guess we’ll never know…).

On Fate, Alfea is the only school we ever see, and it’s another beige boarding school in not-Britain, somehow set in a magical world where everyone has the exact same technology and even social media that we have on Earth in 2021, no transformations and, most egregiously, no fairy wings.

This lack of visual creativity is pervasive throughout the whole show, and its most heartbreaking iteration is in the characters' wardrobe. The styling has the barest bones of a color scheme, - such as 'Bloom has to only dress in red since fire, duh',- the clothes are ill fitting, bland, dark and very dated. These are supposed to be teenagers who enjoy fashion, and yet they look like varying types of soccer moms from 2010.

The series seems to operate on an old and tired vision that women and girls can’t have depth and have adventures and fight monsters while also caring about fashion, a vision that the original show played a big, big role in challenging in the early 2000's. Fashion and costume design sets as much of the tone of a visual medium as the script does; through clothes we can gauge characters’ backgrounds, passions, and personality.

Winx Club has some of the best examples of this in the cartoon sphere - Bloom’s comfortable and bright style, Stella’s glitzy and bold, Musa’s edgy and cool, Aisha’s sporty and fun, Techna’s neon and tech gear inspired, Flora’s earthy and romantic, they all work as extensions of each character and serve a narrative purpose. And that’s not even mentioning how insulting it feels that in their quest to make Winx “edgier, darker” and fit for an older audience, the creators of Fate somehow decided that was in opposition to caring about style and fashion. Most “girly” shows, including the Winx Club are just as much adventure action shows as the ones geared towards boys, and it’s emphasis in fashion, friendship and color does not detract from that. The original run of the cartoon deals with war, violence, grief, abusive relationships and even genocide; leaning into those plotlines would not require Fate to erase any integral parts of what made Winx so beloved, and the fact that they did shows that the Netflix team completely missed the point of fashion in the original show, and really, the point of fashion and costume design in the world building of any show.

That, however, is not a mistake K-Pop makes very often; (This might seem like a bit of wild swerve in topic, but stay with me here). Unlike it's western counterpart, the Korean pop scene never lost the emphasis on music videos and how the visual medium can complete and potentialize music and performance; the K-Pop culture is very album and concept oriented in a way that has been all but lost in many other pop circuits, and the music video, styling and set design of a ‘comeback era’ is a key point of excitement among fans.

As such, music videos that follow storylines, connected universes, boundary pushing concepts and visual effects are the norm, rather than the exception, and a list could be made of works that are beautiful examples of what a live action Winx adaptation could look like. In fact, and very smoothly, here is a small list of exactly that!

A Small List of K-Pop Music Videos That Are Better Winx Club Live Actions Than Fate: The Winx Saga

3. Red Velvet - Psycho

If it was a darker and more somber look that Fate wanted, there was a way to make it actually appealing. While it still feels a liiitle too grown up and elegant for Winx, (maybe this author is biased, as a full proponent for the Y2K fun) Psycho makes a very compelling argument for a witchy, mysterious, fairy tale-esque show that could look scrumptious and definitely not boring, or even a gorgeous example of what the witches in Cloud Tower could look like. Black and white, dark green, pastel blue and pops of jewel tones make Psycho's color palette. To add interest to the understated colors, the styling is heavy on textures; We see plenty of stonework, intricate embroidery, tassels, lace on lace on lace, feathers, bows, opera gloves and lots of glitter. All of that is offset by bold, dark makeup, leather accents and eerie cinematography. Needle & Thread, Marchesa Notte and Self Portrait lend their hyper feminine and intricately detailed tulle gowns, juxtaposed with the creepiness of the lyrics and the dark backgrounds; their deep berry and green fairy tale looks are built with pieces from Zara to Nina Ricci to Dolce & Gabbana to Alexander McQueen.

Red Velvet’s more edgy styling for 2018's Bad Boy would also not feel out of place on the Trix.

2. IZ*ONE - Fiesta

IZ*ONE kicked off 2020 with sweet and fun Fiesta. The MV features rooms with mismatched décor that go from retro to space opera, rocky faux landscapes that feel other worldly, and visual effects that would look perfect on the back of a transformation sequence. Mirroring the set design, the girls wear various outfits by sustainable up and coming brand Chopova Lowena. Their signature skirts made with discarded and repurposed fabrics give a cool and interesting twist on a schoolgirl look that would look very sweet for a band of school fairies that occasionally go off to save the world. Also, wouldn't those bedazzled headphones look great on Musa's fairy outfit?

1. Aespa - Black Mamba and Next Level

Aespa is what fans call a monster rookie. With only three music videos under their belt, they still have some of the most visually interesting work in the industry right now. Their concept is very tied in with high tech, featuring even AI avatars of each member, packaged in a glitzy, fantastical and futuristic aesthetic, candy pop meets cyberpunk. I think I’ve exhausted ways to say that is exactly what a perfect Winx adaptation should feature.

Their debut smash hit, 2020’s Black Mamba is truly a perfect moodboard for live action Winx. Wearing a sequined and colorful mix and match of Dollskill, Gucci, Didu and Balenciaga to a backdrop that features some alien fairy forest realness, a pyschedelic fever dream, rooms straight out of a Y2K catalog or donning lime green and black techwear inside a metro fighting the "black mamba", Aespa look through and through the part of fashion loving fairies who save the world together, while looking fierce, stylish and, most importantly, interesting.

The styling and the sets jump seamlessly from more casual colorful fits with blouses, shirts and baggy pants to barren, darkly lit backgrounds and fringe-and-glitter heavy pieces necessary to fight giant snakes, in a way so fitting to transformation outfits for magical girls we could cry.

In their third MV, 2021's Next Level, the cyber in their concept is taken up a notch (get it. because Next Level-), set to a futuristic urbanscape intersped with a planet made of crystals and the ocasional alien fauna popping up again. We get treated to Monse, The 2nd Skin Co., Johanna Ortiz and The Attico styled to fairy princess standards, sporty sky racers and a white and sequined group styling that is top ten fairy busy saving the world uniform material, or maybe even a specialist worthy getup.

This particular look from Ningning is so Techna that it almost feels as if it's mocking Netflix.

And doesn’t this Karina trapped inside the "black mamba" in Alexander McQueen feel like a perfect Dark Bloom moment?

These are only a few examples of interesting and creative designs that are in line with what a live action Winx Club should have given us. There are so many more I could list, even among other TV Shows, like Sex Education and even polemic dark Euphoria, that know how to have fun with style and design without losing the depth of their stories. In the end, it's hard to justify why Fate creators even wanted to make an adaptation that didn't even try to capture the heart of its source material, and all we can do is watch one more "Restyling Fate: The Winx Saga" video on Youtube whilst mildly dreading season 2.

[bangwoolofbangtan]

TIME

ENTERTAINER of the year

BTS

[Time magazine BTS interview ]

It’s late October, and Suga is sitting on a couch strumming a guitar. His feet are bare, his long hair falling over his eyes. He noodles around, testing out chords and muttering softly to himself, silver hoop earrings glinting in the light. “I just started learning a few months ago,” he says. It’s an intimate moment, the kind you’d spend with a new crush in a college dorm room while they confess rock-star ambitions. But Suga is one-seventh of the Korean pop band BTS, which means I’m just one of millions of fans watching, savoring the moment.

BTS isn’t just the biggest K-pop act on the charts. They’ve become the biggest band in the world—full stop. Between releasing multiple albums, breaking every type of record and appearing in these extemporaneous livestreams in 2020, BTS ascended to the zenith of pop stardom. And they did it in a year defined by setbacks, one in which the world hit pause and everyone struggled to maintain their connections. Other celebrities tried to leverage this year’s challenges; most failed. (Remember that star-studded “Imagine” video?) But BTS’s bonds to their international fan base, called ARMY, deepened amid the pandemic, a global racial reckoning and worldwide shutdowns. “There are times when I’m still taken aback by all the unimaginable things that are happening,” Suga tells TIME later. “But I ask myself, Who’s going to do this, if not us?”

Today, K-pop is a multibillion-dollar business, but for decades the gatekeepers of the music world—the Western radio moguls, media outlets and number-crunchers—treated it as a novelty. BTS hits the expected high notes of traditional K-pop: sharp outfits, crisp choreography and dazzling videos. But they’ve matched that superstar shine with a surprising level of honesty about the hard work that goes into it. BTS meets the demands of Top 40’s authenticity era without sacrificing any of the gloss that’s made K-pop a cultural force. It doesn’t hurt that their songs are irresistible: polished confections that are dense with hooks and sit comfortably on any mainstream playlist.

BTS is not the first Korean act to establish a secure foothold in the West, yet their outsize success today is indicative of a sea change in the inner workings of fandom and how music is consumed. From propelling their label to a $7.5 billion IPO valuation to inspiring fans to match their $1 million donation to Black Lives Matter, BTS is a case study in music-industry dominance through human connection. Once Suga masters the guitar, there won’t be much left for them to conquer.

In an alternate universe where COVID-19 didn’t exist, BTS’s 2020 would likely have looked much like the years that came before. The group got its start in 2010, after K-pop mastermind and Big Hit Entertainment founder Bang Si-hyuk recruited RM, 26, from Seoul’s underground rap scene. He was soon joined by Jin, 28; Suga, 27; J-Hope, 26; Jimin, 25; V, 24; and Jung Kook, 23, selected for their dancing, rapping and singing talents.

But unlike their peers, BTS had an antiestablishment streak, both in their activism and in the way they contributed to their songwriting and production—which was then rare in K-pop, although that’s started to change. In BTS’s debut 2013 single, “No More Dream,” they critiqued Korean social pressures, like the high expectations placed on schoolkids. They have been open about their own challenges with mental health and spoken publicly about their support for LGBTQ+ rights. (Same-sex marriage is still not legally recognized in South Korea.) And they’ve modeled a form of gentler, more neutral masculinity, whether dyeing their hair pastel shades or draping their arms lovingly over one another. All this has made them unique not just in K-pop but also in the global pop marketplace.

In March, BTS was prepping for a global tour. Instead, they stayed in Seoul to wait out the pandemic. For the group, life didn’t feel too different: “We always spend 30 days a month together, 10 hours a day,” Jin says. But with their plans upended, they had to pivot. In August, BTS dropped an English-language single, “Dynamite,” that topped the charts in the U.S.—a first for an all-Korean act. With their latest album this year, Be, they’ve become the first band in history to debut a song and album at No. 1 on Billboard’s charts in the same week. “We never expected that we would release another album,” says RM. “Life is a trade-off.”

Their triumphs this year weren’t just about the music. In October, they put on perhaps the biggest virtual ticketed show of all time, selling nearly a million tickets to the two-night event. Their management company went public in Korea, turning Bang into a billionaire and each of the members into millionaires, a rarity in an industry where the spoils often go to the distributors, not the creators. And they were finally rewarded with a Grammy nomination. On YouTube, where their Big Hit Labels is one of the top 10 most subscribed music accounts (with over 13 billion views by this year), their only real competition is themselves, says YouTube’s music-trends manager Kevin Meenan. The “Dynamite” video racked up 101 million views in under 24 hours, a first for the platform. “They’ve beaten all their own records,” he says.

Not that the glory comes without drawbacks: namely, lack of free time. It’s nearing midnight in Seoul in late November, and BTS, sans Suga, who’s recovering from shoulder surgery, are fitting in another interview—this time, just with me. V, Jimin and J-Hope spontaneously burst into song as they discuss Jin’s upcoming birthday. “Love, love, love,” they harmonize, making good use of the Beatles’ chorus, turning to their bandmate and crossing their fingers in the Korean version of the heart symbol.

Comparisons to that epoch-defining group are inevitable. “What’s different is that we’re seven, and we also dance,” says V. “It’s kind of like a cliché when big boy bands are coming up: ‘Oh, there’s another Beatles!’” says RM. I’ve interviewed BTS five times, and in every interaction, they are polite to a fault. But by now they must be weary of revisiting these comparisons, just as they must be tired of explaining their success. RM says it’s a mix of luck, timing and mood. “I’m not 100% sure,” he says.

They’ve matured into smart celebrities: focused and cautious, they’re both more ready for the questions and more hesitant to make big statements. When you ask BTS about their landmark year, for once they’re not exactly chipper; J-Hope wryly calls it a “roller coaster.” “Sh-t happens,” says RM. “It was a year that we struggled a lot,” says Jimin. Usually a showman, on this point he seems more introspective than usual. “We might look like we’re doing well on the outside with the numbers, but we do go through a hard time ourselves,” he says. For a group whose purpose is truly defined by their fans, the lack of human interaction has been stifling. Still, they’ve made it a point to represent optimism. “I always wanted to become an artist that can provide comfort, relief and positive energy to people,” says J-Hope. “That intent harmonized with the sincerity of our group and led us to who we are today.”

In an era marked by so much anguish and cynicism, BTS has stayed true to their message of kindness, connection and self-acceptance. That’s the foundation of their relationship with their fans. South Korean philosopher and author Dr. Jiyoung Lee describes the passion of BTS’s fandom as a phenomenon called “horizontality,” a mutual exchange between artists and their fans. As opposed to top-down instruction from an icon to their followers, BTS has built a true community. “Us and our fans are a great influence on each other,” says J-Hope. “We learn through the process of making music and receiving feedback.” The BTS fandom isn’t just about ensuring the band’s primacy—it’s also about extending the band’s message of positivity into the world. “BTS and ARMY are a symbol of change in zeitgeist, not just of generational change,” says Lee.

And in June, BTS became a symbol of youth activism worldwide after they donated $1 million to the Black Lives Matter movement amid major protests in the U.S. (They have a long track record of supporting initiatives like UNICEF and school programs.) BTS says now it was simply in support of human rights. “That was not politics. It was related to racism,” Jin says. “We believe everyone deserves to be respected. That’s why we made that decision.”

That proved meaningful for fans like Yassin Adam, 20, an ARMY from Georgia who runs popular BTS social media accounts sharing news and updates, and who is Black. “It will bring more awareness to this issue people like me face in this country,” he says. “I see myself in them, or at least a version of myself.” In May and June, a broad coalition of K-pop fans made headlines for interfering with a police app and buying out tickets for a Trump campaign rally, depleting the in-person attendance. Later that summer, ARMY’s grassroots fundraising effort matched BTS’s $1 million donation to Black Lives Matter within 24 hours.

For 28-year-old Nicole Santero, who is Asian American, their success in the U.S. is also a triumph of representation: “I never really saw people like myself on such a mainstream stage,” Santero says. She’s writing her doctoral dissertation on the culture of BTS fandom, and she runs a popular Twitter account that analyzes and shares BTS data. “Anytime I’m awake, I’m doing something related to BTS,” she says. “This is a deeper kind of love.”

Devotion like that is a point of pride for BTS, particularly in a year when so much has felt uncertain. “We’re not sure if we’ve actually earned respect,” RM says. “But one thing for sure is that [people] feel like, O.K., this is not just some kind of a syndrome, a phenomenon.” He searches for the right words. “These little boys from Korea are doing this.” —With reporting by Aria Chen/Hong Kong; Mariah Espada/Washington; Sangsuk Sylvia Kang and Kat Moon/New York

FASHION CREDITS

RM: Jacket, shirt, pants and shoes HERMES; SUGA: Jacket, shirt and necklace CELINE. Pants GIVENCHY. Shoes LOUIS VUITTON; Jung Kook: Jacket, shirt, pants and shoes FENDI; J-Hope: Jacket, shirt, pants and shoes LOUIS VUITTON. Necklace HERMES; Jin: Suit, knit top and shoes BALENCIAGA; Jimin: Jacket, silk shirt, pants and shoes CELINE; V: Suit, shirt and shoes ALEXANDER McQUEEN. Tie THOM BROWNE.

[vinylandcoffeecollection]

Notes On a Conditional Form- The 1975

(This is my review of Notes, which, obviously, I adore)

People tend to have a fixed idea of what the 1975 are, love or hate them. To some, they’re a plastic pop band who write (great) 80s-influenced songs like “The Sound”. To others, they’re the millennial Radiohead or U2 (pick your comparison depending on how much warmth you feel towards Matty Healy), obsessed with chronicling and holding forth on the State of the Nation, embodied by perhaps their best and most critically lauded song “Love It If We Made It”. The mixed reviews of their fourth album probably stem from the disappointment of both camps above: for the first group, superstar single “If You’re Too Shy (let me know)” is evidence that the band could continue to be great if only they mined this genre more. The second camp desperately searched for proof that Notes... has Something to Say, didn’t really find it, then concluded that it’s a weak or inferior album. In reality, though, 1975 are neither of the ostensibly polar identities above. As they are fond of saying, they create as they consume, and they consume a vast landscape of music constantly: it’s their life’s passion and one that has been apparent since their earliest EPs. Even though their last two albums appear on the surface to be perfect examples of the plastic pop (ILIWYS) and political polemic (ABIIOR), in reality each blends both and throws in some ambient instrumentals and other left field moments for good measure. No one who has heard Matty Healy and George Daniel talk about their creative influences and processes could ever confuse them with any other conveyor belt pop band or be in any doubt about their commitment to their art.

Following up 2018’s critically lauded A Brief Inquiry Into Online Relationships was always going to be a tall order but the 1975 can always be relied on to do the unexpected. This is a band who by the point of becoming massive had given up on ever actually becoming massive, so made a first album full of songs that they loved, that they now admit they might never have made if they had had any idea that global stardom was beckoning, because it’s just a bit weird. They apply the same kind of logic to Notes...: on the back of huge critical acclaim from A Brief Inquiry...they went inwards and simply made the kinds of music they loved consuming and playing, heedless of expectations. Notes.... has long been spoken of by the band as a metaphorical notebook, a looking back to their roots, collected and recorded around the world on their global tour last year. Originally due in May, then August 2019, then February, then April 2020, it’s been a beneficiary rather than a victim of unimaginable global circumstances, more relevant and strangely prescient than ever now. It turns out it does have something to say, but in lowercase rather than capital letters, and it’s a better album for it. Any capital-lettered statement, after all, could only have appeared completely outdated and irrelevant in the midst of a global pandemic.

Conditional verbs are “if” verbs, used to imagine events in certain conditions, and this is what Notes... is: a collection of songs posing questions and examining sets of circumstances and relationships that make us who we are, for better or worse. It’s an ending to these four albums of sorts (“I just wanted a happy ending,” Matty pleads in “If You’re Too Shy,”) but also an exploration of the impossibility of tidy, definitive endings. The final track of A Brief Inquiry... , the vital and unexpectedly uplifting “I Always Wanna Die (Sometimes)”, began with the line “I bet you thought your life would change but you’re sat on a train again.” That’s where we are on Notes and why its third track, not the final track, is called “The End”, to underline the point. This instrumental re-works the instrumental track “HNSCC” from the band’s 2013 EP Music for Cars, making it more orchestral. It’s a lovely way to develop this theme: that everything that happens to us is conditional to other events in the past, present or future. It also explores the idea that concepts of linear growth as people are artificial. Notes... embraces the lack of any kind of coherent narrative in life that we can tie our experiences together neatly with, the struggle to know and accept yourself, to be that person that you present to the outside world.

Anais Nin wrote: we do not see things as they are; we see them as we are. A Brief Inquiry.... is a great album but it also captured a moment in time both culturally and for the band, particularly Matty Healy personally. Having derided him for years, there seemed to be a huge will amongst the press to make this album succeed because of everything he had been through with addiction and rehab between 2013-2017. That was the narrative- he’d fucked up, now he was clean, gleaming and healthy in tasteful fitted jumpers and suits, with the haircut of a Mature Man, and they’d made a Political and Important album. The band were apparently finally deserving of the acclaim afforded to serious artists. But there were notes of caution: an interview Matty did where he spoke of being wary of being a poster boy for sobriety because he hadn’t been sober for long enough. I remember worrying about him when listening to all of this- what if he couldn’t hold it together? What then for him and the position in culture that he and the band were now occupying? It was almost a relief when he confessed in a 2019 interview to briefly relapsing: it was honest and it was real.

Notes sees Matty embracing the honest and the real like never before, and it’s apt that the album moves through the idea of Endings to “Frail State... “ “Streaming” and “The Birthday Party”, a hauntingly beautiful song about sobriety, questions of shifting identity, growth and relationships (“We can still be mates because it’s only a picture,” is the narrator’s rejoinder to a friend taking the piss out of him for buying an expensive artwork that the friend can’t relate to). It’s a song that narrates a tale, in the tradition of A Change of Heart, Milk or Paris, that is both humorous and devastating, particularly in its last line: “I depend on my friends to stay clean. As sad as it seems.” Maybe you do need to be knowledgeable about the band’s personal circumstances to understand that “The Birthday Party” isn’t just a dull and over-long tale about being bored at a party, as Rolling Stone appears to have taken it, but to paraphrase “Frail State of Mind”, it seems unlikely. In any case, Notes.... is a deeply honest album, one that paints Matty Healy in as unvarnished a form as he has ever appeared, talking candidly and literally about piss, shit and erections. As he has said, it’s an album without ego.

Appropriately for an album looking back, making notes on all those “if...then”s, Notes... is more eclectic than ever before, a distillation, as the band say, of their previous sounds as well as the music that has inspired their own creativity over the past nearly two decades. The reaction of the album’s detractors to this has been to see it as a jumbled mess of Too Much-ness, which is to completely miss the point. Notes... is deliberately and thoughtfully structured, each track including threads and connections to other songs and iconography of the band’s world, an intertextuality that is sometimes darkly humorous, sometimes poignant and very much underlining that theme of honesty. “I never fucked in a car, I was lying,” opens “Nothing Revealed/Everything Denied”, Healy lacerating his ego by referencing Love It If We Made It’s memorable opening line as well as their early song “Sex”, and later “you can’t figure out a heart. You were lying,” undercutting the swagger of 2013’s 80s-maximalist “Heart Out”. More poignantly on “Roadkill”, again recalling the lie of linear growth and maturity, he sings “if you never eat you’ll never grow. Should have learned that quite a while ago,” looking back to one of the band’s most loved and most “apocalyptic adolescent” songs, as they term it, from their debut album, “Robbers”. The intertextuality is there in the music too, from the re-working of instrumental track “HNSCC” in “The End” (a connection missed, unforgivably, by seemingly every critic) to the inclusion of original demo of standout track from A Brief Inquiry... “It’s Not Living (If it’s not with you)” at the start of the surreally titled “Shiny Collarbone”. This is the largely instrumental EDM track sampling Cutty Ranks that for a number of critics seems to represent the fact that the band have lost their way and just started putting out random filler. They haven’t on either count, and the sample is a lovely reminder that even when farming seemingly the furthest reaches of the 1975’s discovered land, the music is always quintessentially theirs.

Perhaps the farming metaphor isn’t the most appropriate though. The band have spoken before about the choice that they have as artists to be “cowboys or farmers”, to keep re-working old ground or move forward and discover new places. To the charge that the songs here are just not as good as their earlier albums, well that depends on your perspective. Even the poor reviews aren’t quibbling with the strength of “If You’re Too Shy...” but truly that’s not the best songwriting on display here. The 1975 can write songs like “Too Shy” while knocking about having a laugh, stoned out of their heads. As they say themselves, it’s not a stretch. They’d rather push themselves, which they do. Regardless of genre, though, any band will stand or fall on whether they can write a catchy tune or not. The 1975 have always been able to write a catchy tune and it says something that over 22 tracks, each one has that catchiness and each one is distinctly itself. “Tonight (I Wish I Was Your Boy)” begins with a pitched up sample of “Just my Imagination” by the Temptations, it’s a love song in the 1975 tradition: bouncy and irresistible major key melody juxtaposed with an emotional sucker punch: “She said they should take this pain and give it a name.” They cleverly subvert the genre, pairing the beauty of the melody with the brutally honest: “Tonight, I think I fucked it royally.” It’s one of the best songs on display here and another perfect example of how the 1975 can take that most over-done of genres, and make it completely their own.

Because of the evolution of the album, seven songs, not including “The 1975” with Greta Thunberg, were already well known before its release. “People”, the first of these after Greta, is fantastic pop punk, a track that has lost none of its impact in the 9 months since its original release. “Nothing Revealed/Everything Denied”, the self-referential track referred to above, is a catchy treatise on the search for meaning in our lives, fusing a soaring choir-sung chorus with Matty’s witty rapping. A trio of tracks explore what some critics have labelled “emo garage”: a thread that begins with the pulsing and affecting “Frail State of Mind” (“Go outside? Seems unlikely,” and is followed through with the standout “I Think There’s Something You Should Know”, surely a future single that would be perfectly at home on Radio 1, and “What Should I Say?” In the instrumental vein, the George Daniel-created masterpiece “Having No Head” transports the listener to another sonic world. There are several throw-backs to the band’s previous emo-indie incarnation Drive Like I Do with “Then Because She Goes” and “Me and You Together Song”. And then there’s a couple of gorgeous ballads: the profound “Jesus Christ 2005...” and the love letter to the band “Guys”. In a way this closing track is almost a microcosm of the band: love them and this is a beautifully turned love letter to friendship and loyalty in the face of life’s challenges. Hate them and it’s a cringeworthy, naive irritation.

Of course, there is no happy ending or neat bow tied round Notes.... at the conclusion of its 22 tracks. We leave Matty still struggling with himself, life and his conflicted desires but with two tracks- the gentle “Don’t Worry”, a Tim Healy- penned song that is performed as a father/son duet, and “Guys”- we are reminded that it’s our relationships that will help us through, the connections we build. We are all conditional forms in this sense.

The vinyl of Notes... is poignantly inscribed with the words 'If this is to be read in the future, please know that this was us trying'. It would be very easy at this stage in their career for the 1975 to put out albums filled with variations on “Chocolate” or “The Sound”, and it might make some fans and critics happy, but they don’t want to. They are triers. Perhaps it’s this very workaholism, their obsession with pushing boundaries and experimentation, speaking up and refusing to stay in their lane that so riles up those ready to sharpen their critical knives. They are those too clever and too keen kids at the front of the class, annoying the fuck out of those who can’t be bothered or just can’t compete. Having spent last year taking political stands on issues ranging from misogyny in music to abortion laws in the US to the treatment of the LGBTQ& community in the UAE and doing their bit for the environment by commanding fans to be quiet and listen to a Greta Thunberg monologue for five minutes at their live shows, selling recycled merchandise and planting trees for every ticket sold, they are still unable to rest in the midst of a global pandemic, engaging with fans through Twitter listening parties and an interactive website called Mindshower where fans can create their own music and artwork and reflecting on what live music might look like in the future when we can finally get out there again. It all sounds a bit like Radiohead in the 2000s, except Radiohead never made an album as sonically beautiful or coherent as Notes... either immediately post-OK Computer or in the 19 years since. The 1975 are many things but they’ll never allow themselves to become stale or apathetic or lazy and for that at least they should be recognised: they simply care too much. And as for that vinyl inscription, in the future they won’t just be remembered for trying but for achieving what most bands never do even in a lifetime of striving.

[weekendwarriorblog]

30 Minute Experiment: Love #30ME

I decide to tackle one of the tougher #30ME topics today just because I took a few unintended days off over the weekend, and I don’t want to feel like I’ve been slacking off. Also, I don’t want to use up all the Pink Floyd titles with weeks more to go in this experiment, so I’m moving on to names of British bands, the name of one of my favorite British’s band’s albums... and well, that’s about as far as I can take this joke. But yes, today I’m gonna talk about LOVE. And it’s not even Valentine’s Day! (That seems so long ago, doesn’t it?)

Yeah, I have a very weird personal history with love and maybe since I haven’t been married or been any sort of long-time relationship (I think 3 months is my longest), some could say that I don’t really know what love is... or one of a dozen other clichés about love that I probably have heard way too many times. I’m gonna try to avoid some of them in the 30 minutes I have to write about a very tough topic.

If you’ve been reading these since I started them a little over a month ago, you might remember one called “Mixed Emotions” and that partially was a little bit on the subject, because I feel that “love” comes in degrees just like everything. It might surprise some (oh, he’s kidding... A LOT) of people that I feel that i’m someone who is very much filled with love, maybe more than any other emotion a human is capable of feeling. (I’d like to think that my nickname of “Ed Doom” was meant to be totally ironic, by the way.) 

But there are degrees to “Love” and while there are many people I love in the 1 to 3 out of 10 range, there are very few on the higher end of that spectrum, but those who rate an 8 to 10 in terms of how much I love them, they are people who I will be loyal to for the rest of their or my own life, because maybe they did something so generous or selfless to help me that it’s hard not to love them.  And frankly, I would think that maybe 1 or 2% of the people who I love that much even realize it because love is one of those things we rarely talk, at least when there isn’t some sort of sexual reward. Since I don’t really think in that regard anymore, it makes it even harder to deal with my feelings of love towards others, because I almost always feel like I have to keep it to myself just so things don’t get weird.

Oh, yeah, and I will let you know now that I rarely use the words, “I love you” except maybe to my mother or immediate family and that might be due to my own mostly bad experiences with the word “love” and the fact that in most of my younger life, it led to a lot of rejection and worse when I had to realize that another person would probably never love me as much as I love them. 

I’m not really sure why so many of the people I know are able to find love and the person they want to spend their entire life, while I have found very few people who I can even stand spending an entire day with them. Maybe it’s just part of why I continue to be so moody later in life, but during these troubled times, I’ve found myself thinking about love and my love for others and trying to find other ways to show it without seeming either clingy or needy (which I’m really not naturally just because I know how to appease my mood with music and other things, like writing.)

It’s kind of amazing how few people talk about love except when talking about spouses, immediate family or kids. It’s almost as if “love” is a bad word, and considering how many actual bad words there are out there these days, it’s a shame that one of the greatest feelings one can have has to be hidden away so much as to “not get weird.”

If you haven’t figured it out by reading some of my non-movie writing, I’m a born and quite hopeless romantic. I always have been even as I got away from the idea of dating in any shape or form, but a lot of that is due to the many bad experiences I’ve had when I was trying to date and maybe “take things to the next level.” (What an awesome euphemism, THAT is, huh?)

I guess I’m one of the few people on the planet who has always equated the act of sex with some form of love, and I’ve never been someone who might get drunk and fall into bed with someone even remotely fabric. I always feel like I need to have a deeper connection or some feeling inside that makes me want to even spend any of my precious sleep time sharing a bed with anyone. I realize now how crazy that might seem but maybe I’m just a bit more old-fashioned than many of my friends or colleagues. 

I’ve actually been amazed by some of my friends who have found spouses or long time partners and how hard they work on making all things work out, and I guess I can understand that. I doubt there’s anyone on the planet who ever really truly wants to be alone or at least feel alone. Everyone wants to believe that there’s someone out there for them, but I’ve long ago contended with the fact that I may be my own worst enemy (as seen by my decision to write so much personal and intimate details about my life and sharing them with the world) but also my best friend and even the best person to keep me feeling loved.

Listen, I’ll be the first person to admit my weaknesses and the fact that there are things I’m not good at, but I will never say that I’m not good at loving others, whether it be family, friends, etc. I just have a harder time expressing the feeling of love, because it’s led to so much disappointment and frustration over my many years. 

While I think I’m doing pretty good with this topic so far, I realized just now that I’m only halfway through my time for the day and I’m going to have to find a lot more to say about love or else I’ll have to consider today’s #30ME a failure. (I’m also my own worst editor!)

So I’m going to take a moment to think for a bit before continuing this essay on “love,” so it doesn’t seem like a whole lot of rambling, which it probably is.

I know what I can talk about. How we each, as individuals, discover our own personal meaning of the word “love.”  It’s kind of amazing that as kids we’re just so good at loving other, whether it’s our parents or pets or classmates, but as we continue in this world, it becomes a lot harder and even frowned upon to express open acts of love. No, I’m not talking about the actions like hugging and shoulder rubs that have been turned into such awful things in recent year, when in fact, hugging people is a GREAT expression of love and it’s one of the most comforting things you can give or receive. Sadly, hugging, which was already frowned upon in recent years is now seemingly unimaginable since we’re all being told to stay “6 feet apart” and no one knows how long that’s gonna last. 

I don’t think anyone I know would consider me a hugger, but in fact, I’ve never been shy about giving or accepting a hug when the opportunity arrives, although I definitely have more than a few friends that I know better than to even suggest an embrace. People are just so weird about hugging nowadays just as so many people on the planet seem to feel awkward or uncomfortable about expressing love even in the most simple way.

Oddly, pet owners have it a little easier because when you have a cat or dog, it’s perfectly fine to snuggle with it and there are many ways that you can show love, from feeding them ... to allowing them to take up space in your bed.

I may have to go off on a little tangent here because as much as I love animals, particularly cats, I’ve ALWAYS been weird about sharing a bed or even a room with a cat. It’s a long story and I feel that I’d be filibustering if I get into it here, so maybe sometime down the road I’ll dedicate a full 30 minutes to pets. 

But yeah, it’s pretty obvious why a few of my friends have small dogs or cats that they bring with them as comfort pets because while people can constantly disappoint you, animals can only do so by doing something like pooping or peeing on your clothes. I mean, i think people could do that, too, but hopefully you’re able to vet those people out of your life before you get too seriously into a relationship with them.

I may be rambling a bit here now, but I guess it’s important for me to discuss this topic so that people out there who do have spouses/partners, children or pets know what some of the rest of us have to go through when we’re isolated and have absolutely no access to any sort of physical contact or expressions of love to keep us going. 

It feels almost unnecessary to express how important love is and why it’s important to have an outlet for that love, even if in my case, I put all of my love (and other emotions) into writing and never feel comfortable sharing my “love” with others who I truly do love. I mean, I’ve written love letters before... something I would NEVER recommend considering the outcome of most of them... but sometimes, putting something down in the writing is the only way to express how you’re really feeling. In my case, needing to express some of my feelings may have led me to being a writer, although you would probably never known that from any of my public writing which has mostly been critical or analytical. 

So yeah, I will end today’s #30ME a little early to give you some to reflect on the above words. I hope that the next time you think of another person you love (whether it’s someone close to you or someone very far away) you’ll reconsider expressing that love in some way that might make someone feel more loved. It’s something we desperately now if it wasn’t obvious from the world wide pandemic that is effectively pushing people further and further apart.

Time’s up... back tomorrow! 

[hazzabeeforlou]

Hi! I just read your tags and pretty much agreed with everything you said. Regarding the timeline of FL, I believe that it was meant to be released late summer. A december release seems very odd, but how a delay can be consider as protection for someone/something? did you mean like in legal terms or something like that? (Side note: love reading your opions and fics, your writing style in general) x

Oh thank you nony you’re very sweet, that warms the cockles of my heart ;) I agree, FL was supposed to be a late summer album. I don’t mean legally, no, I mean (and I don’t discuss this usually) that whether or not you think H and L are together still, the tragic loss of Fizzy this past spring pushed back both their timelines. Louis’, obviously. But Harry’s too I believe. Again, reguardless of relationship status, this is a young lady loved and closely known by Harry; he kept working, sure, took meetings and kept up appearances as one does when tragedy strikes because life goes on... but I don’t think he wanted to be joyous and free and sexually explorative when the people he’s loved for so many years are grappling with yet another unimaginable loss. Harry isn’t a S*mon Cowel robot, after all, this is a young man who’s deeply sensative and the admitted “crier” of the band, and I think with this new image his team has crafted for him, it’s easy to forget that it’s all an act; now he’s finally allowed to keep his vulnerability to himself, to only show what he wants, to sell us an act, a happy carefree Harry blissed out on sex and exploration. It takes a lot of courage to reveal your deepest core to millions of people, to tear down the walls you’ve put up... and that comes with maturity, yes, but also you have to be the kind of person who WANTS to do that. Louis yearns for this kind of authenticity, this straight forward cut to the chase Capricorn home grounded centered Leo fire and passion... But Harry the Aquarius needs metaphor, the safety of a Secret Garden. He needs to feel he can change, that he’s not bound to old selves, old declarations, he needs to morph within himself at the call of the wind, the stars, and if he pins down his thoughts and declares THIS IS ME, that’s like a jail to him. And there’s beauty in both ways, such strength and poetry and power. Anyways this turned into... I don’t even know but. Thanks for your question nony <3

[jefferyryanlong]

Fresh Listen - The Squids, The Squids (Bankshots Music, Inc. and Oto-Songs, Inc., 1981) and Duganopacalypse Now (A Fan Compilation, circa 1981)

(Some pieces of recorded music operate more like organisms than records. They live, they breathe, they reproduce. Fresh Listen is a periodic review of recently and not-so-recently released albums that crawl among us like radioactive spiders, gifting us with superpowers from their stingers.)

The first band I ever loved was the Beatles, and John Lennon was dead years before I had any idea of who they were. It wasn’t until Kurt Cobain died that I had any interest in Nirvana--I recall an eighth grade classmate looking at mw with contempt after I told them I was unfamiliar with their music, when “Smells Like Teen Spirit” was already an MTV hit. The chemical composition of my brain was dissolved and reconstituted over the course of two weeks when, at twelve years old, I watched One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest and Cool Hand Luke on late-night television, but both films were about twenty years old by then. I just heard of Herbie Hancock’s V.S.O.P. album, featuring Freddie Hubbard, Wayne Shorter, Ron Carter, and Tony Williams, about two weeks ago. I’m 42 years old now and I’ve only just come to realize how cutting and prescient Claude McKay’s novel Banjo is. 

All this to say that I wish I’d been around when Honolulu’s The Squids were playing around town. (Much thanks to Roger and Leimomi from Aloha Got Soul for pointing me in the right direction.) The Squids were so odd and varied, a New Wave outfit with the muscularity and venom of the truest punk rock, able to invoke the B-52′s in the same gig as Talking Heads or the Ventures or the Specials, all with the same veracity, but much weirder and crueler. They married a sunny, breezy synth sound with an aesthetic that I can only describe as joyously psychopathic, spraying smart-ass malice on the unfortunate subjects of their songs.

Though the band only officially released a 7-inch EP in 1981 (currently unavailable on Amazon) Comrade Motopu, the mysterious archivist who, through digitized vinyl and cassette tapes, as well as donated photos, scanned liner notes, flyers and news releases, has painstakingly agglomerated Hawai‘i rock music and associated miscellany on a magnificent pre-Y2K looking website, has not only shared the Squids’ EP (featuring “Tourist Riot,” “‘Love Theme’ From Surfer Boy,” “In,” and “Rio”), but what is also listed as Duganopacalypse,  a fan compilation with even more twisted tunes: “Medicine,” “Sexy,” “Head in the Sand,” the ska-soaked “New Girl in Town,” their partially awful, mostly spectacular “Cool Clear Water,” and “Pretty Vacant (with Dugan),” the Never Mind the Bullocks classic with a seemingly hated fan on the inarticulate vocals. I only pray that Comrade Motopu continues documenting this underhand era of Pacific rock music of the late Seventies to early Nineties--the site is a treasure, and more words about the bands highlighted on comrademotopu.com (the Vacuum and Yahweh’s Mistake, for instance) will be coming soon.

The Squids began as a concept by guitarist Beano Shots in 1979, later to take shape as a full-fledged human/cephalopod music group with members Kit and Gerry Ebersbach, Dave Trubitt, and Frank Orall. Those of us who sweatily flailed our way through a booze-and-drug bender on the strobe-lit (at least, as it appeared then) dance floor of the Wave Waikiki between the hours of 2 AM and 4 AM when all the other bars closed down would be surprised to learn that the now-demolished former nightclub, a hub for the scraped-out, after-hours husks operated by the residual combustion of chemicals in their blacked-out reptilian brains, once hosted the edgy Squids as the house band, presumably when the going-out crowd still had an affinity for fun, strong music, and did not simply seek to propel themselves upon the the mechanized beats and soulless zombie tracks initiated by a faceless button masher, in hopes that they would be manipulated, by the end of the night, into some loveless fuck with a nobody. 

Of the Squids’ stage show, we have but one recorded example of the band live in concert: a faithful interpretation of the Sex Pistols’ “Pretty Vacant,” in which the players serve as back-up band for a loyal heckler known only as “Dugan.” Having taken (jokingly) enough shit from Dugan, the band harasses him into sing-shouting the song. The performance captures the “fuck you” sentiment of “Pretty Vacant” with a primitive abandon that almost makes the original seem like a Monkees’ tune. It also portrays a punk rock scene less enlightened to the diverse lifestyles it later engendered, when “dick sucking” was applied exclusively as a pejorative.

The same pissed-off adrenalin leads off the the 1981 EP in “Tourist Riot,” an apocalyptic narrative of that species of traveler compelled to hammer a new experience into a predetermined mold that will establish an appropriate backdrop to their social media posts. The tourists here burn hotels and smash out windows when their expectations aren’t suitably met--a bad vacation in which they are pushed around and mistreated leads the tourists to murder and mayhem.

“Tourist Riot” lays out the Squids’ music aspirations right away, especially in the interplay between Beano Shots’s electric guitar and Kit Ebersbach’s keyboards, which morph from forbidding electronic warning tones to psychedelic ghost notes to the replicated sirens of a city on fire, collateral damage in a war between locals and tourists. Following a surprisingly effective bridge that concludes with a shouted “Fuck it, I’m going to New York City!” is an atonal guitar solo reminiscent of Nels Cline asleep at the wheel, redeemed by a more fluid keyboard exploration.

When Jimi Hendrix claimed that “you’ll never hear surf music again” in 1967, he was, through the example of his own transcendent playing on “Third Stone from the Sun,” burying the corpse of that elementary, improvisationally unimaginative rock instrumental with the axe with which he had slew it. To that end, after hearing Jimi Hendrix and all the musical manifestations that took shape from his cosmic residue, it is sometimes hard to take surf music seriously. “‘ Love Theme’ from Surf Boy” comes across as the Squids’ winking parody of the genre, with its reverb, its whammy, its overall melancholy, and its simplicity. That said, there is some sophistication in the song’s structure, as if the wordless tune was more an exercise in technique, an attempt to take stock creatively before reaching out to a farther and stranger place.

On “In,” the guitars and keyboards snarl rabidly toward the same explosive destination, barely kept in check by the talents of the players. Lyrically minimalist, the song’s non-sequiturs slice through the instruments like assembled cut-up style by William S. Burroughs. “Are you losing sense of humor, could be Jesus was only kidding” followed by “are you losing sense of humor, could be Jesus was just a salesman.” These pieces of thoughts unfinished resonate in my head like something close to catchy--to what end, I don’t know. Where the keyboards overmatched the guitars on “Tourist Riot,” on “In” the guitar is locked in and dirty, climaxing in repetitive harmony between the instruments to close out the song.

When I first read the track listing to the 1981 EP, I thought the final song “Rio” would be a rough rendering of the hit video single by near-contemporaries Duran Duran (whose synth-guitar arrangements, though undoubtedly smoother, find relation in the Squids’ overall aesthetic). Instead, “Rio” is an acid commentary on the American Capitalist, represented as a white suit soaked in sweat, and his compulsion to foster vice and iniquity to exotic locales.

I’m not sure whether the fan compilation Duganopacalypse, also available for listening through the Comrade Motopu website, was recorded before, after, or  during the sessions of the 1981 EP. A few tracks lead me to believe that the songwriting and arrangements are from a wiser, more sophisticated band, while other songs seem so apelike in their imitations as to come through as pointless satires, or maybe the explorations of a band trying to find its identity.

In “Medicine,” for instance, the Squids operate under an overpowering B-52′s filter that washes out their uniqueness. Whereas on previous tracks this influence existed only at the fringes of their sound, the singer on “Medicine” channels Fred Schneider on the verse and switches to David Bowie during the bridge. The role-play, though, doesn’t kill the the more interesting aspects of “Medicine”--its guitar lick is inventive and so wormy as to be slightly irritating, and the song’s themes, that one must willingly imbibe “the medicine” to accept the hypocrisies of this “downer world,” resound strongly to anyone who casts their eyes around a crowded room.  

Where the B-52′s references go deep in “Medicine,” Talking Heads emerge in “Sexy,” from David Byrne’s vocal tics to the subtle and swampy “Take Me to the River” vibe. It goes beyond straight homage to cover band territory, but it does emphasize the band’s technical ability to lock into a groove. “New Girl in Town” is a heaping serving of not-completely-warmed-up ska leftovers, a bit misogynist (of its time, but still). “Head in the Sand,” regrettably, could have been the Squids’ crossover pop hit. I say “regrettably” because, even though the song has a point--that the ability of humans to maintain a semblance of happiness is to carefully cultivate the warm fuzz of obliviousness, sacrificing will to fate in the belief that nothing we could do to change anything would matter anyway--the effort seems more calculated than organic, a plastic approximation of the closest this band, given their specific set of skills, could get to a pop crossover hit. The work put into it seems to drain away at some of the dirty magic. It‘s self-conscious in a way that the other songs aren’t.

Finally we have “Cool Clear Water,” what would have been the band’s masterpiece if they’d spent a little more time recording a decent take (the version on the Duganopacalypse almost sounds live, though it could have been laid down in a rehearsal space). This is not the country classic performed by Marty Robbins and Johnny Cash. The Squids’ “Cool Clear Water” is the frightening confession of a soldier recently returned from the war in Vietnam, directed by an angel spirit to mass murder with a shotgun from a tower in town. When the killer is set to be executed, the angel spirit comforts him, tells him his spirit will be redeemed in heaven for “setting the people free.” The unnerving subject matter of “Cool Clear Water” is given sinister shape by the relentless horror-notes of Kit Ebersbach’s organ, the guitar holding down the song’s march toward inevitable nothingness because the bass (normally played with elan by Gerry Ebersbach) is a complete mess (I’m not sure if she hadn't learned the song or if she just showed up at the gig drunk).

As Marc Maron frequently says on his podcast, “there’s no late to the party” anymore, given the the amount of content available to all of us via the digital consciousness that we are now more plugged into than not. But I’ve waited all my life to lose myself in something vital, of the moment, with my eyes and ears and heart present while the thing is taking shape, at its most temporal. I feel that way listening to the Squids. I wish I could have seen them at one of their Wave gigs. I wish I could have had a beer with them afterward, and gushed in the embarrassing way I do about things I love.

[shenglingyuan]

title: step 2(ao3)

pairing: jiang cheng/wei ying

summary: fake dating chengxian (^^) mdzs secret santa gift for erufuno!

Despite the relaxing aroma of brewed coffee and mellow jazz music filling the cool air of the coffeeshop, Jiang Cheng can’t help but feel anxious. Hah, Jiang Wanyin, you dare to feel fear? Unimaginable, he scolds himself in his mind. He breathes deeply, then lets out a loud exhale, momentarily forgetting where he is. Luckily, there are only a handful of customers in the coffeeshop. He bows his head in apology, mentally cursing Wei Ying. Where is he?

  The chimes by the swinging door rings. Speak of the devil. The smiling face of Wei Ying peeks in first, his eyes meeting Jiang Cheng’s, and if it’s possible his eyes seemed to shine even brighter - the shine of mischief, most definitely. He finally enters the shop and confidently strides towards Jiang Cheng.

  “What took you so long?”

  “What?” Wei Ying pulls the chair in front of Jiang Cheng and sits, not even missing a beat when he adds, “Missed me already?”

  “Wei Ying!”

  The face Jiang Cheng makes that looks like he’s about to hit Wei Ying hard in the head prompts the latter to raise his arms in surrender.

  “Fine, fine. Someone held me back, confessed their feelings to me privately.”

  “Why would someone do that?”

  “Why not?” Wei Ying feigns looking offended, “I’m handsome, that’s why.”

  Really, this guy.

  “And? How did it end up?”

  “I directly told them, ‘Ah, sorry, I’m already dating someone.’”

  “You-”

  “Ain’t it the truth ?” Wei Ying’s grin is so wide Jiang Cheng wonders how it still not hurting his cheeks.

  “I know you agreed to help me but you have to be careful where you’re spreading your information.”

  “Don’t worry,” he waves a hand nonchalantly,  “That guy has no friends. Anyway, I can’t believe the couple wallpaper thing has stopped working already.” He lays his palm open on the table. “Phone.”

  Jiang Cheng gives his phone without question. “She’s so stubborn! She even went through the album you created with our pictures, told me a bunch of fake couple photos won’t push her away from me.”

  “Fake? How dare she call my hard work fake?” Wei Ying pouts as he scrolled through the photo album. “And I look good in these photos, too.”

  “She needs to leave my life.” The words come out of his mouth with the same conviction as one would say ‘ Whether we live or we die, we will defend this land! ’ He had been forced by his mother to go out with her a few times now. Another one and Jiang Cheng is ready to run to the hills and live a nomad’s life.

  Wei Ying smiles mischievously, making the hairs in Jiang Cheng’s nape stand.

  “Then we proceed with Step 2.”

  Jiang Cheng knows what Step 2 is. He wishes he didn’t have to go through Step 2 at all.

___

  Some six or seven weeks before Step 2 has been greenlit, Jiang Cheng’s quiet and peaceful life as a graduate student in his last year of MBA was shaken by a seemingly innocent lunch with a long-time family friend. The ‘family friend’ whom Jiang Cheng has only been able to meet thrice before, he sees them again for a fourth time now with a girl around his age at tow.

  Perhaps, Jiang Cheng should have taken it as a sign. After all, his mother had been talking about marriage plans after his graduation from his program. “We need to ensure that the company stays alive.”

  The Jiang family have been in the industry since the late 60’s and have amassed quite a number of businesses in all fields. This long time family friend, the Jins, owns the top gold mining company in the country. They have only one child, the undisputed heir to all their wealth: Jin Zixuan. This girl, however, Jiang Cheng has never heard of before.

  “She’s my niece, my brother’s daughter: Jin Hua,” Madam Jin introduced.

  Jin Hua bowed her head slightly towards the Jiangs in greeting, and when she raised her head, she purposely looked at Jiang Cheng’s eyes. He knew that look did not mean anything well at all.

  The moment the lunch ended, the marriage plan agreed upon, Jiang Cheng flew out of his seat like a gust of wind. His hand already on his phone, he speed dialed Wei Ying.

  “You have to help me.”

  “What is it?”

  Jiang Cheng summarized the situation in just two words: “Arranged marriage.”

  Wei Ying replied with another two: “Holy shit.”

  Nevertheless his bright mind came up with a plan almost immediately: appal Jin Hua so much she would want to break the marriage plans herself.

  ___

  “I swear to God you read too much pocketbooks,” Jiang Cheng murmurs frustratedly under his breath.

  “Bold of you to assume I read.”

  “I know you read those romantic ones filled with sex and stuff.”

  “Jiang Cheng,” Wei Ying looks at him with a serious expression, and for once, Jiang Cheng thought something sensible will finally come out of his mouth, “You can’t know everything from videos alone. A man has to read up.”

  He should have known otherwise.

  The two friends transferred to a nearby restaurant, a few blocks away from the coffee shop where they met up. Jin Hua had suddenly sent an invitation to have dinner with Jiang Cheng while the two were brainstorming on how to execute Step 2. His first reaction was to decline, naturally, but Wei Ying stopped him and told him it was a golden opportunity.

  Hence, Jiang Cheng finds himself waiting for his ‘fiancee’ while seated beside his ‘boyfriend’.

  Not for long and Jin Hua arrives, striding inside the restaurant in a confident manner. Even Wei Ying stopped to assess the lady. In terms of physical appearance, Jin Hua has probably been blessed by all the gods in the heavens. The sharp angles of her face seemed to be sculpted by an artist, and even with minimal makeup, she is naturally glowing. Her frame is just perfect too, fit and not too thin. Wei Ying starts to wonder if Jiang Cheng is in the right mind to be rejecting such beauty.

  “You know this would be easier if she’s not this pretty,” he mutters under his breath, letting only Jiang Cheng hear.

  “Shut it,” Jiang Cheng visibly shuffles. He really seems to despise breathing the same air as Jin Hua. Nevertheless, he is a man of good upbringing and he never forgets his manners. He stands to greet her. “Good evening.”

  “Good evening, as well,” Jin Hua is all smiles as she greets Jiang Cheng. Her eyes then travel to Wei Ying who didn’t even bother to move, and that smile dimmed just a bit. “I didn’t expect we’ll have company.”

  “Nice meeting you, too,” Wei Ying smiles.

  Jin Hua takes her seat, and only after she has settled that Jiang Cheng returns to his seat as well.

  “Shall we order?” Wei Ying raises a hand and calls the attention of a waiter. In a few seconds, they are attended to, three menus given to them. Wei Ying returns the one given to him, “We’ll share with this one.”

  He scoots closer to Jiang Cheng, showing him the wide variety of meals. He lets his arm rest on top of Jiang Cheng’s thigh as he did so.

  Thankfully, Jiang Cheng has known Wei Ying since he was eight and a close contact like this are as natural as to breathing. If it is any other person, maybe he will not be as calm as he is now. They order the same steak meal while Jin Hua opts for a salmon dish. After relaying their orders to the waiter, Jin Hua turns to the two of them.

  “Mr. Wei, is it?” she starts, “You don’t really need to go this far. Only a fool would believe your little charade.”

  “There’s no charade here, Ms. Jin,” Jiang Cheng answers for Wei Ying. He looks her directly in the eyes, “The undisputed fact here is Wei Ying has been with me for a long time. There’s nothing to fake in that.”

  The lines flow out smoothly from Jiang Cheng’s mouth. The truth is they had that line rehearsed before they went to the restaurant. The key to a successful implementation of Step 2 is that the sincerity must come from both of them.

  “We’ve been together even before you came in the picture,” Wei Ying continues the statement, “Why can’t you just back off my man?”

  At this point, it’s taking all of Jiang Cheng to not react. How can Wei Ying refer to him as “my man” so casually yet with so much passion?

  Yet those two words seem to have the desired effect on Jin Hua’s face. The smile she has been trying to put up since arriving dissolves completely.

  “What’s so bad about marrying into the Jin family?” She lays both her hands on the table, crossing her fingers, and looking at them with a cold gaze, “It’s not like I’m the most enthusiastic person about this arrangement either, but looking at it as the sensible individual I believe you are, Jiang Cheng, this marriage will reap you and your family more benefits than you can imagine.”

  “What benefits do you talk of?” It is Jiang Cheng’s turn to be cold. The moment this Jin Hua started to talk about business, she has treaded on the waters he guards closely, “You’re only a cousin of Jin Zixuan, you have no hold over their company. Your own family’s shares in their company isn’t even substantial. We could just opt to buy you out and not proceed with this marriage anyway.”

  Jin Hua sucks in her breath, obviously mortified by Jiang Cheng’s words. Wei Ying can’t help but let out a quick snort. When it comes to serious matters, Jiang Cheng really is something else.

  No more words are exchanged until the food arrived. And even then, only Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng talked with each other. Jin Hua finishes her food as quickly but as refined as possible.

  “I believe I have only wasted both our times here,” she states as soon as she finishes her meal.

  Why didn’t she realize that before she even sent out the invitation? Wei Ying thinks to himself.

  “And about the marriage, I stand by my position. I see no disadvantage for me, and so you can’t push me away no matter how hard you try to convince me that you and your closest friend are ‘dating’. Why not try persuading your mother instead, no?”

  Jin Hua leaves without waiting for a reply. The two men left behind continue to finish their meal in a leisurely pace.

  “That was some good speech back there, Jiang Cheng,” Wei Ying compliments him almost incomprehensibly, his mouth full.

  “Some people must always be reminded of their rightful place.”

  “She has a point, though.”

  “Which part?”

  “About convincing Madam Yu,” Wei Ying looks at him thoughtfully, “She’s the one who pushed for the arrangement. She has the ultimate authority to call it off, too.”

  Suddenly, Jiang Cheng isn’t so sure of what to do anymore.

  “Hey,” Wei Ying hits him on his back lightly and smiles, “Don’t worry too much. Try talking with her again.”

  “You make it sound easy.”

  “I mean...you’re her son. If you plead enough, I’m sure she’ll listen to you no matter how iron-hearted she is.”

  Jiang Cheng knows Wei Ying is only trying to lighten his mood. They’ve known each other for over a decade already. Wei Ying literally lived under their roof. He knows Madam Yu never listened to him, not a single occasion.

  He can’t help but heave a sigh.

  “I feel like I already lost a battle that I haven’t started yet.”

  “That’s exactly why you have to fight even more,” Wei Ying reaches for his shoulder and squeezes reassuringly. Somehow, Jiang Cheng feels that he is not alone in this.

  ___

“Mother,” he had said, “I know you only want the best for me and especially the company, but I refuse to push through with the marriage arrangement with Ms. Jin Hua.”

  The silent hum of the air conditioner and the continuous tapping of his mother’s fingers on the keyboard filled the silence that followed after Jiang Cheng’s announcement. He would have preferred it more if his mother lashed out at him, but this quiet from her side was truly frightening. This silence is usually reserved for truly the worst decisions.

  His father happens to be in the same room as Jiang Cheng asked him to listen on in as well. Sensing the tense atmosphere, he clears his throat and starts, “Jiang Cheng, son, what brought this up?”

  “After much thought, I arrived at the realization that marrying Jin Hua would give them more benefits than what we could get from them. It won’t breakeven.”

  Finally, Madam Yu raises her eyes from her laptop and meets Jiang Cheng’s gaze. “Now you talk about breaking even?”

  He swallows down the sudden fear that threatened to rise up his throat. “Isn’t this marriage arrangement just another business move anyway?”

  “Jiang Cheng,” his father cuts in, “This is also for your future.”

  “ My future? We all know we’re only concerned about the company’s future here-”

  Madam Yu rises from her seat in a flash, her hands hitting the table with a loud slap. “ Jiang Wanyin! Since when have you learned to talk back?”

  “Ziyuan,” his father walks closer to her, attempting to calm her down, “We can talk calmly about this like a family. We’re not business partners under one roof.”

  “Tell me, Fengmian, how can we talk calmly about this matter when this son of yours is spouting nonsense? Do you think a lady worthy of being married into the Jiang family is easily sought, Wanyin? You weren’t the one being troubled about this matter all these years.”

  And that’s exactly the problem! , Jiang Cheng almost wanted to say. In the matters of business, he will understand if his parents would not consult him of their plans despite him being the next heir. He can put it aside as his parents being considerate about his graduate education and being assertive of their position in the company. But if in the matters of Jiang Cheng’s personal choices in life, he’s already a decade too old to be told of what to do, what to think, and who to choose.

  In the end, Jiang Cheng could still not go against his mother directly. He averts his eyes and says, “I don’t like Jin Hua.”

  “Jin Hua is the only lady worthy of the Jiang name.”

  “Unless,” Fengmian looks at Jiang Cheng, his voice softening, “You already have your affection for someone else?”

  Jiang Cheng turns his head around. Is this an exit door he senses?

  Madam Yu stares unbelievably at this father and son, “Don’t even dare.”

  Suddenly, Jiang Cheng gets an idea.

  “I am already seeing someone else, and I love this person. Jin Hua can’t even compare.”

  Madam Yu steps out of the room in frustration. She cannot bend this son anymore.

  Jiang Cheng internally sighs in relief. Even though he had aggravated his mother, there is a certain feeling of freedom at being able to express his thoughts. He had laid out his mind, it’s up to his mother how to deal with it. She’s not so shameless that she could continue interacting with her prospective in-laws when she knows how much her son despises Jin Hua.

  All in all, Jiang Cheng can say he had produced an unexpected but favorable result.

Unfortunately, there are times when his smart perception misses some simple things.

  “Then, can we meet this special person?” Fengmian asks.

___

“I can’t believe you told uncle and aunt that you’re dating someone,” Wei Ying was lying down on Jiang Cheng’s bed, processing everything that the latter has just told him. He always knew his closest friend had guts, but he can’t believe he has enough guts to feed himself into the mouth of the tiger. He would have loved to laugh at the situation, but Jiang Cheng the Brave is now lying next to him, face down, suddenly mortified by all the decisions he made and things he said in front of his parents.

  “I’m dead.”

  “If you do die, can I inherit your bank account?”

  “But you’re dying with me.”

  “What?”

  “Did you forget? We’re making Jin Hua believe we’re going out. I told my parents I’m seeing someone. If mother asks Jin Hua about it, she’ll say it’s you.”

  There, Wei Ying realized, Jiang Cheng the Fool is actually about to feed the two of them into the mouth of the tiger.

  “Oh shit,” he sits up in a flash, “Holy shit.”

  “Step 2 was your idea.”

  Jiang Cheng turns his head, their eyes meeting. The gravity of the situation sets in and Wei Ying runs a hand down his face.

  Jiang Cheng didn’t have to say anything else for Wei Ying completely understands what’s to be done next.

  “You know I’m not Madam Yu’s favorite person.”

  “And that’s exactly why you’re the best person for this farce.”

  “I’m always the best person anywhere,” Wei Ying smiles at him, a smile that’s assured of success. “Well, when do I get to meet the parents?”

___

Upon knowing that her younger brother is actually dating someone, and that their father wanted to meet this special person, Jiang Yanli took it upon herself to arrange a simple dinner at home. Even though she possessed the corporate mind their family is known for, she personally prefers a quiet venture of her own, hence she started a flower shop. This gives her a more flexible way in handling her personal time.

  Both of the Jiang siblings never really had time to attend to the romantic aspect of their lives. Jiang Cheng is busy studying in order to be capable to inherit the family business, while she herself is occupied by her own small business. That’s why when she heard from their father that Jiang Cheng has actually been going out with someone, she is the first one in the family to be truly excited.

  Surprisingly, despite Madam Yu’s initial reaction to Jiang Cheng’s revelation, she miraculously showed up for dinner. A soft smile paints Fengmian’s face as if he expected that she’ll arrive from the very beginning.

  “Where’s your brother?” Madam Yu asks as she takes her seat, her lips drawn on a thin line.

  “He must be picking up this person he’s dating,” Yanli says, laying on the table the lotus soup she prepared as a side dish.

  “Ah Cheng didn’t tell even you about this person?”

  “No, he didn’t.”

  Fengmian looks at the table and counts five sets of plates. “Wei Ying is joining us?”

  “I asked him earlier and he said he is,” Yanli recalls. “Maybe he’s with Ah Cheng?”

  “Those two are really inseparable,” he comments fondly.

  “Ah Cheng will soon graduate and handle the company. Wei Wuxian can’t hang around him forever,” Madam Yu interjects.

  Before Yanli could say something to defend the boys, they all hear the door open. After a few moments, Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying appear, no other person in sight.

  “Ah Cheng, Ah Xian, you’re finally here!” Yanli greets them, “Where’s this person we’re supposed to meet?”

  The two men look at each other, a silent conversation seemingly passing through that simple look. Then, Jiang Cheng faces his whole family.

  “Mom, Dad, Sis...we’ve been keeping it for a while now but-” Jiang Cheng sees his mother moving to stand, but his father held her wrist, pulling her back, he continues on, “-Wei Ying and I are together.”

  Yanli clasps her hands together, a genuine warm smile forming on her face, “Oh, I knew it! That’s so good to hear!”

  She knew it? Jiang Cheng thinks to himself. But before he could react to his sister’s reply, Wei Ying joins their hands together.

  “We’re sorry if we’ve been keeping it all this time. We were waiting for the right timing, after Jiang Cheng’s graduation actually, but the matter with the Jin family prompted us to tell this now.”

  “Ah Xian, Ah Cheng,” it’s Fengmian who speaks next, his face as soft as ever, “Why don’t you sit down first? Let’s talk over dinner.”

  As expected, it is the most awkward family dinner ever. Though Fengmian and Yanli try to make the atmosphere lighter and more welcoming, the deafening silence from Madam Yu doesn’t go unignored. Wei Wuxian has his back pole straight the whole time. So this is what it feels like to ‘meet the family’ . To be fair, there’s no way anyone can top Madam Yu in making someone feel worthless just by sitting quietly.

  The usual questions pop up during dinner, and thankfully, the two of them have rehearsed for it well.

  Since when have they been together? Almost three years ago.

  How? It was a natural process, given that they’ve been practically by each other’s side since they were kids. If one would think about, they were just waiting for the right time to realize their feelings (This certain part, Wei Ying came up with).

  Then who confessed first? Wei Ying did, because Jiang Cheng would never admit that he liked him out loud (Wei Ying also came up with this, obviously).

  What are your future plans? They’re waiting for Jiang Cheng’s graduation, then Wei Ying can leave his current job and they could start a small business while Jiang Cheng manages some of the companies.

  What kind of business? A coffee shop near the university seems like the easiest one to start and the fastest to be profitable. Knowing the ins and outs of their alma mater, it’ll be easy to arrange the necessary papers and there will always be a flux of customers. Jiang Cheng already has a list of suppliers in mind. Wei Ying could plan the interior of their shop. It should all go smoothly if all plans are followed thoroughly.

  It’s interesting how the words seamlessly flow from his lips to Wei Ying’s, as if their minds are connected to each other. Jiang Cheng has always been aware of this fact, but somehow, being stuck in this situation, he learns to appreciate this connection even more.

  “We’re having lunch with the Jins this weekend,” Madam Yu finally speaks as soon as she finishes her meal, interrupting the ongoing interview session. “Jiang Wanyin, you will be there.”

  It is an order. Without waiting for a reply, she stands up from her seat and leaves. Only then that the two are able to breathe freely.

  “Please forgive Ziyuan’s attitude just now,” Fengmian says, “She must be have had quite a surprise about the two of you.”

  “Don’t worry, uncle, we kinda expected it,” Wei Ying says with a light laugh, “We wouldn’t have been brave enough to face the family if we weren’t ready for such treatment.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us sooner, then?”

  Jiang Cheng looks at his father almost sheepishly, “I was...We were afraid of your reaction. That we’d get disowned or something.”

  “Ah Cheng, my history with arranged marriages, you two siblings should know very well. If there’s anyone who will support you if you wish to pursue your own heart, I would be the first to do so.”

  Jiang Cheng’s heart is immensely moved by his father’s words. It’s not everyday that his father shows him of all people this kind of affection and understanding. He turns to Wei Ying and they both smile at each other. To his surprise, Wei Ying reaches for his hand on the table and squeezes it.

  “We’re happy to know of your support, uncle.”

  “Don’t count me out too soon,” Yanli adds, smiling brightly, “I’ll always have your back as well.”

  With his family supporting him, and with the hand that holds his tightly, Jiang Cheng feels a warm sensation enveloping him. It’s a nice thing to have these people around him.

  ___

It is forty-five minutes past twelve noon. By this time, the Jin and Jiang family are on their second round of main course. Yet, Jiang Cheng, who is supposed to be in the middle of it all is still absent. Only Fengmian’s hand that is constantly rubbing at Madam Yu’s back can keep her calm. Yanli, on her part, is keeping the family ties between the Jin and the Jiang intact.

  “But investing in new technology will be really worthwhile, too,” she says to Madam Jin, “I know several people in the academe researching on more efficient ways to extract gold, to ensure a hundred percent recovery from the ore. I think if you could support a research like that and patent the technology, your investments would triple back.”

  The smile on the Madam’s face is so wide, as if she herself just chanced upon a gold mine. “I’m not so sure who to connect with about those kind of things. I’ve been thinking of that too, but the older members of the board seems to be not so thrilled with the idea. Only Zixuan here actually thinks like you.”

  Zixuan, who is in the middle of drinking his juice, suddenly coughs. He has been quiet since the start of this lunch. Yanli has known the young master since they were kids and she’s aware that the two boys of the family don’t get along well. However, Jiang Cheng is currently not around. Is it that Jin Zixuan doesn’t like her presence too that he’s being too quiet?

  “I think it’ll be great to have more young innovative people in the company, don’t you think, Yanli?”

  “Oh,” Yanli covers her mouth and laughs softly, “I’m sure it’s a great move. The industry is so fast-paced after all. The young and the old should work hand-in-hand to move their companies to greater heights.”

  Her phone vibrates in time. It’s a call from Jiang Cheng.

  “Please excuse me,” she stands from her seat and finds a more quiet place to answer her phone. “Ah Cheng, are you still coming?”

  “Hi sis,” the other side of the phone seems busy. Yanli can hear the roar of the car engine, “I forgot to mention but Wei Ying and I will be out over the weekend.”

  “The whole weekend?”

  “It’s our anniversary!” comes Wei Ying’s voice through the phone.

  “Focus on the road - Sis, sorry I had to miss this lunch. Or whatever that is.”

  “Don’t worry, you’re not missing anything important,” Yanli smiles to herself. She really can’t blame her brother. The past few months, she had been noticing something differently good about him. Now that she realizes it’s because of his relationship with Ah Xian, she’s happy to give them her full support. “I’ll just tell them you’re caught up in another meeting out of town.”

  “You’re the best. Tell Mother and Father I’ll see them on Monday. I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

  “Take care, the two of you.”

  “Bye!”

  After dropping the call, Yanli returns to her seat and whispers to Fengmian about Jiang Cheng’s whereabouts. Their father only makes an expression of surprise. There’s no helping it, it’s not like they can drag Jiang Cheng back just for this meal.

  “Are you in your company’s board too, Ms. Yanli?” Jin Hua suddenly asks, Yanli turns to face her.

  “Not really-”

  “Ah,” Jin Hua’s tone suddenly changed slightly, cutting off the rest of Yanli’s reply, “They must not trust you with the family business if that’s the case.”

  Yanli just closes her mouth and smiles weakly. She’s used to getting judged just because she’s not the one to inherit the company.

  “Actually,” to everyone’s surprise, it is Jin Zixuan who speaks, “I believe Ms. Jiang Yanli is busy with her own business. Am I right?”

  His words effectively silence Jin Hua, her previously arrogant look completely disappearing.

  Yanli is surprised as well. Her flower shop business, though very profitable, keeps a low profile. She didn’t expect Mr. Jin Zixuan, heir to a mining company, would know about her little shop.

  “Yes, but it’s just a simple flower shop business. We cater to many events, however. There’s a constant flux of customers from connections so we need no expense for further advertising.”

  “Yanli is a very independent person,” Fengmian adds, “I can’t be prouder. All her connections, her start-up fund...it all came from her hard work. Didn’t even asked a single cent from us, this child.”

  “How about this son of yours,” Madam Jin finally brings up the much needed topic, “Will he still be coming? We’ve been waiting for a while.”

  “I don’t think so,” Madam Yu says with a sigh, “He’s usually very responsible. But ever since this...this relationship came to light, he’s been openly defying us.”

  Being the close friends that they are, Madam Yu has already told Madam Jin about Jiang Cheng’s relationship with Wei Ying. It was met with a raise of an eyebrow, but no more words were said.

  “Truth to be told, when you said he was already in a relationship, I didn’t worry much. Relationships like that come and go. But, if he truly is not into this arrangement, then we don’t have to push for it. I don’t want the ties between our families ruined just because of this.”

  “But Aunt-”

  A sharp look from Madam Jin silences Jin Hua yet again. Then, Madam Jin’s eyes turn to Yanli and visibly softens.

  “Besides, there are other chances that we might not just be seeing right now, but is surely to present itself in the near future.”

____

They arrive at a remote resort high up in the mountains. It’s Wei Ying who planned everything they are going to do in their ‘weekend anniversary’ . They really didn’t mean for it to happen on the same day as the family lunch, after all, Wei Ying has planned for this since a month ago. Nevertheless, it’s a great timing. Jiang Cheng will worry about his mother afterwards.

  “A colleague’s family runs this resort,” Wei Ying mentions as they walked towards their cabin. “This is actually a very private place, the fees are also very high. But I managed to get a pretty big discount,” he says with pride.

  “Shut up, Wei Ying. We own this place.” The Rock Towers Resort is among the few companies personally ran by Jiang Cheng. Customers come by season, and so it is easier to manage despite his academic load. Jiang Cheng is surprised though that Wei Ying managed to book a reservation without him hearing about it, “I’m going to have to talk to some of my people about your booking.”

  Wei Ying only grins.

  The rest of the day goes by smoothly. The thing with the two of them is that no matter where they are, no matter who they’re with, as long as they’re together, they are sure to have a good time. By late evening, Wei Ying dragged him out to the open area near the overlooking. From there, they could see the lights of the city from afar. He brought two bottles of wine and gives Jiang Cheng one.

  “So,” he sits on the soft grass, “How’s my Step 2 going so far?”

  “Well, for one, we’ve succeeded in annoying Mother.”

  “That Jin Hua, too.”

  “Sis and Father strongly believes our charade.”

  “I feel a bit bad about that.”

  “Let’s just explain after.”

  “It’s a miracle I still haven’t been kicked out from the house.”

  “I’ll give you a place to stay in if ever that happens.”

  “You-!”

  Jiang Cheng laughs heartily. “Don’t worry. They’ll have to kick me out first before they can do the same to you.”

  “Ha, good luck with that.”

  They talk like that the whole night: about Step 2, then about their jobs, about the company, about the university, about the Jins, about the current state of the economy, about nonsense, and about nothings. Yet in the whole duration of their conversation, every word mattered. They’ve been together for more than a decade, yet Jiang Cheng still feels that every second spent with Wei Ying is worthwhile no matter the reason. It’s the kind of a bond that doesn’t come quite often in one’s lifetime.

  “What’s the plan then, after all this pretending?” Wei Ying asks. He has just finished his bottle of wine. As the strong drinker that he is, it doesn’t seem to affect him at all. He lies down, using Jiang Cheng’s thigh as his pillow, stretching on the grass like a cat.

  Meanwhile, Jiang Cheng is only halfway through his own bottle and he already feels warm.

  “I’m about to do my thesis soon, I can’t afford to go through a break-up right now.”

  “After your graduation?”

  “Hmm...too far away.”

  “Well, young master Jiang Wanyin, we have to set a definite date for this. It can’t be soon, and it can’t be too far into the future either. When do you want it?”

  “You decide.”

  Wei Ying is silent for a while, keeping his eyes on the night sky. Jiang Cheng drinks from his bottle again, trying to empty it. However, about one-fourths remain. Why won’t this wine finish itself?

  “Then let’s not,” Wei Ying finally says.

  At first, Jiang Cheng thinks he heard wrong from all the alcohol. Wei Ying sounded so serious after all, he can’t be suggesting what he thinks he heard. “What did you say?”

  “I said let’s not break up,” Wei Ying looks at him straight in the eyes, seemingly waiting for his reaction.

  The wine dampened the speed at which Jiang Cheng’s brain can work. He wants to say something, but his mind is still just processing Wei Ying’s words. Not break up? What would that imply? He just stares blankly at Wei Ying’s face, “Huh?”

  “Ah, never mind, you’re beyond comprehension now, give me that,” he sits up and swipes the wine bottle from his hand, then downs it in one go. “I was thinking let’s not break up so that I won’t have a hard time in life. Who wouldn’t want to be future Master Jiang Wanyin’s lifetime partner, yeah?”

  “Whatever. Whether we become lifetime partners or not, you still can’t get rid of me anyway.”

  “Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Wei Ying says nonchalantly. He stands up, then extends his hand to Jiang Cheng. “Come on now, time to sleep.”

  He takes his outstretched hand without question. Despite the alcohol, Jiang Cheng feels that his first statement isn’t what he claims it to be. He’s just too tipsy to wrap his head around his original context. Hopefully, he remembers it when he’s completely sober.

  ____

It is the Monday after his ‘weekend getaway’ with Wei Ying. To be fair, it was a lot of fun, just as all his previous trips with him. For a while, he is able to forget of his worries: his thesis, his impending work, his arranged marriage, his mother. Wei Ying always seems to have a way to make him feel instantly better.

  He’s still lying on bed, staring at the ceiling, recalling in his mind the weekend that passed by in a flash. This time, there is something different. He places a hand over his chest, trying to decipher what could that something is. He feels happy, blissfully so, yet there’s also a small part of him that’s confused. What is this?

  A knock on his door interrupts his reverie. He quickly stands and opens the door, surprised to see his sister. Yanli doesn’t usually fix herself up beyond the usual, but on this certain day, her hair is braided like a crown and her cheeks are streaked with a faint pink blush. She’s even wearing one of her newer clothes, the one their mother gifted to her on her birthday.

  “You’re going somewhere?”

  “In a while,” she smiles shyly, “But, can I talk with you?”

  “Of course! Why not? Come in, come in.”

  Yanli sit by the foot of his bed, her feet hanging. Even her toenails are manicured. Jiang Cheng wonders silently if she is about to close a business deal or something. Wherever she’s going, it seems pretty important.

  “How was your weekend trip? You came back pretty late last night. I can still hear Ah Xian snoring in his room.”

  “Is he?” Jiang Cheng laughs at the image. For sure, Wei Ying has his mouth open and his body at the edge of the bed, in danger of falling down. “It was really fun. We were able to have quality time, I was able to relax, too. Next time, you should go with us.”

  “You know, I still feel bad that you didn’t tell me about the two of you first. If there are things you’re worried about your relationship, don’t hesitate to ask me, okay? I may not have experience of my own, but I think, as a sister to both of you, I could share pieces of wisdom here and there.”

  Jiang Cheng looks at his sister in surprise, he didn’t expect she’d be asking about his ‘relationship’ with Wei Ying. Did she really care about it that much? Even during the dinner, she looked genuinely happy. She’s been very supportive of the two of them, as well. He’d hate to make her sister feel bad, but he hates it even more so that he’s lying to her.

  If anyone should know about the truth, it should be her.

  “It’s not real.”

  Yanli looks at him with an unmasked confusion. “I...I don’t understand.”

  “The ‘relationship’ between Wei Ying and me, it’s not real. I asked him to help me break the marriage arrangement with Jin Hua, and our plan was to pretend we’re together even beforehand,” now that Jiang Cheng is saying these things out loud, it does sound ridiculous, “It was all Wei Ying’s idea so it’s crazy.”

  For some reason, his sister looks really crestfallen. “Oh, so that’s the case.”

  “Did you think it was real?”

  “Yeah, I...you two did look really happy together. As a couple.”

  “Well, Wei Ying is a pretty good actor. If he wasn’t I don’t think the arrangement with Jin Hua would have been broken off,” Jiang Cheng shivers at the thought of almost getting married to someone he doesn’t even acknowledge, “What happened during that lunch, anyway?”

  However, Yanli is staring off into space, lost in her own thoughts.

  “Sis?” Jiang Cheng waved his hand before his sister; she blinks in surprise. “Is there a problem?”

  “Ah Cheng,” she suddenly says, her tone solemn,  “Don’t you have anyone in your heart?”

  The question catches Jiang Cheng off guard. Things like romance, Jiang Cheng never paid attention to it before. Wei Wuxian is the one popular with ladies and gentlemen alike. If there’s anyone who would have someone in their heart, shouldn’t it be him? Jiang Cheng has been described as charismatic and cold, and the few interests that have reached him, he has pushed away without any second thoughts. No one’s really gotten close to him. No one except —

  Don’t you have anyone in your heart?

  Jiang Cheng shakes his head. “Who has time for that?”

  “Ah Cheng,” Yanli moves forward and takes his brother’s hand in his, “I know you carry of the weight of inheriting the family business in the future, and you doing all that you can to prepare for it as early as you can is admirable. But I hope you’re not forgetting that there are also other important things that you should be attending to as well. What would your success be if you’re alone?”

  But I won’t be alone , Jiang Cheng almost wanted to say. He has never been alone. All these times, he always had Wei Ying. Then, it strikes him. Silly. He won’t be around forever as well.

  Yanli seems to have felt the running emotions within Jiang Cheng’s heart, she squeezes his hands tight. “You yourself know what makes you happy. Whatever or whoever that is, you should pursue it, keep it for life. It’s the only way I’d be assured that I can actually leave you on your own.”

  Her words strike Jiang Cheng as odd. “Why are you telling me this? Is there something I should know?”

  Yanli smiles, “I just feel like a lot’s about to change soon. Mother has talked to me about getting married.”

  It’s Jiang Cheng’s turn to be surprised. He feels like blaming himself, too. He should have foreseen that if he wasn’t the one to be married off to someone else, then it would be his sister.  “It’s my fault isn’t it? Because I did not push through with her plan for me and Jin Hua.”

  “No, no, not at all. Truth to be told, I’m glad you’re not getting married with her,” she leans forward and lowers her voice, “I don’t know if it’s just me, but I didn’t like her attitude.”

  “It’s not just you, trust me.”

  The two share a laugh. Just then, Yanli’s phone alerts her of an incoming call. She lets go of Jiang Cheng’s hands and answers the call.

  “Young master Jin?”

  Jin Zixuan?

  “Oh, alright. I’ll be there in a while. Thank you.” When she drops the call, she looks at Jiang Cheng again almost sheepishly. “I’ll tell you everything after, I promise. Just don’t forget what we talked about.”

  She bids him goodbye, planting a kiss on his cheek, then went off to wherever she’s going. With Jin Zixuan. Yanli doesn’t have to tell him. He already realizes that their mothers has now shifted their eye from his marriage to Jin Hua to Yanli’s possible marriage to Jin Zixuan.

____

“That bastard!” Jiang Cheng’s fist is balled up tightly, looking for something to hit desperately. In his frustration, he hits the wall of his room, the painting hanging on it slightly shaking.

  “Jiang Cheng!” Wei Ying comes to his side in a few steps, reaching for his arm.

  “He doesn’t even like her! You heard what he said a few years back, right? He said my sister is not interesting.”

  “Of course I’d remember that. Didn’t I hit him right on his beloved face for those remarks? But you don’t have to punish yourself for this new arrangement.”

  They both look at Jiang Cheng’s fist then, a bit red from the impact. Thankfully, there is no blood. Wei Ying lets go of his arm then. Jiang Cheng has never liked Jin Zixuan, not one bit. There’s no way he can welcome him into their family.

  “It’s because I openly declined mother’s arrangement for me that it’s Sis who’s undergoing the same treatment.”

  “Actually, even if you did marry Jin Hua, I think Madam Yu would still want Sis to marry Jin Zixuan anyway.”

  Jiang Cheng hears his words, but his frustration is not making him process them at the moment. He knows their mother could be so unreasonably stubborn at times, but why drag his sister into this?

  “She meant for this to happen,” he mumbles, then he grabs Wei Ying by his shoulders, catching the other man by surprise, “Mother knows that if she involves Sis, there’s no way I will defy her anymore. It’s all planned!”

  Wei Ying is unusually quiet for a while, just staring at Jiang Cheng’s face, a slight frown on his own forehead.

  “Then,” he finally speaks, “Are we calling Step 2 off?”

  That’s right. If Jiang Cheng wants to save Yanli from her arranged marriage with Jin Zixuan, then he must admit that he’s been faking his relationship with Wei Ying the whole time.

  “Wouldn’t that just anger Mother more?”

  Wei Ying sighs, “True. Worst case scenario, you both get married to the Jins and I really get kicked out of this house.”

  “I won’t let that happen.”

  “Of course, you won’t,” Wei Ying smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Before Jiang Cheng could point it out, Wei Ying has already removed himself from his hold, “But I think we should call it off sooner or later. We can’t keep pretending forever, you know? Sooner is better.”

  He picks up his coat and wallet that was lying on Jiang Cheng’s bed and heads for the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Just…” Wei Ying waves his hand around, “Nowhere in particular.”

  “Want to take my car?”

  “No need, thanks. While I’m out, start coming up with a break-up story. I already came up with our getting together story, anyway. It’s your turn, okay?”

  Jiang Cheng shakes his head. “If you’re gonna go drinking, make sure you text me of your whereabouts.”

  Wei Ying looks at him innocently, eyes wide and lips slightly pouting, “Who said anything about drinking?”

  “The fact that you’re not taking my car like the usual already gave you away. Just send me a message, I’ll pick you up.”

  “Ah, what a thoughtful boyfriend,” Wei Ying smiles again, the traces of uncertainty in his face earlier completely disappearing, replaced by his usual mischievous side, “I’ll miss you, babe.”

  Jiang Cheng just rolls his eyes, then, “Wait.”

  Wei Ying stops on his tracks, turning to face him. “Yeah?”

  “Back in the mountains, you said you don’t want to break up.”

  Another unfathomable expression crosses Wei Ying’s face. But it is gone in a flash, making Jiang Cheng doubt if he has just imagined it. “I already told you why. Unless you’re considering it, too?” A playful grin lines his face.

  “You...ah, just go.”

  Wei Ying blows him a kiss before finally leaving. For a moment, Jiang Cheng forgets the smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He only remembers when Wei Ying is finally out of the gates, and he wonders what is that all about.

____

The text came at a little past midnight. Actually, it’s more of a random string of numbers and letters made its way to his phone. It’s his signal to get up from his bed and pick up Wei Ying. He quickly drives to their favorite bar.

  About three years ago, Jiang Cheng would have still enjoyed the deafening and pulsating music of the Emperor’s Bar. But as it stands, he has grown tired of the nightlife. He did not miss this mixed smell of smoke, puke, and alcohol. Scrunching up his nose, Jiang Cheng weaves through the packed crowd.

  He finds him easily as he usually does, leaning against a wall. This time, Wei Ying isn’t alone. Some guy he doesn’t know is standing dangerously close to him, trapping Wei Ying between him and the wall. A sudden feeling rises up Jiang Cheng’s chest and threatens to suffocate him. Dispelling it forcefully, he pushes onto the crowd towards Wei Ying’s direction.

  Jiang Cheng, upon reaching Wei Ying’s spot, grabs him by the shoulder and moves him towards his back, putting himself between Wei Ying and the unknown man. He straightens his back and looks the man in the eye.

  “Just what do you think are you doing to my boyfriend?”

  The man looks dumbfounded at being caught. Meanwhile, Wei Ying seems to just realize who had come to pick him up.

  “Ah! Jiang Cheng, my Ah Cheng,” he drapes his arms over Jiang Cheng’s shoulders and hangs himself on his back, his chin nestled at the crook of Jiang Cheng’s neck, “I was waiting for you!” He then points at the stranger, “I told you I have a boyfriend!”

  The weird guy, despite being a bit bigger and wider in build than Jiang Cheng, quickly leaves after seeing the murderous look on the latter’s face. Jiang Cheng follows him with his gaze until he is completely gone from their sight, it’s only then that he turns his attention back to the still hanging Wei Ying on his back and hits his head.

  “Idiot!”

  “Ow!”

  “Phone?”

  Wei Ying pauses for a while, obviously already having forgotten where he last put it. Jiang Cheng takes initiative and pats his body, finding it nearly falling from his back pocket. He takes it and and puts it in his own keeping.

  “We’re going home,” he fixes Wei Ying’s position so that he can support him by his waist, then they made their way out of the club. Wei Ying can barely stand on his own and Jiang Cheng wonders just how much has this idiot friend had drunk. He’s the most alcohol-tolerant person he knows of. There must be something serious going on if Wei Ying can drink himself to this extent. He only noticed that something is off when they talked earlier. As to what it is, he still has no clue.

  The way out is easier as people seem to make way for the two of them. In a few seconds, Jiang Cheng can already feel the fresher air outside. Wei Ying managed to fall asleep from the short walk outside the club. Jiang Cheng struggles to put him in the car and straps him in with the seatbelt.

  This bastard, really, Jiang Cheng thinks to himself as he looks at Wei Ying’s face, hair messy and mouth wide open. Jiang Cheng smirks to himself, Hopeless. He reclines the seat backward so that Wei Ying is almost lying down comfortably. Then, Jiang Cheng proceeds to take the wheel and drives the two of them home.

  The house is already dark and quiet when they arrive, thankfully. One can already imagine the mouthful they’d be receiving if Madam Yu knew about Wei Ying’s late night antics yet again. Jiang Cheng’s every move is quiet: parking the car, opening the door, dragging Wei Ying up the stairs, then sending him back to his room. In between those tasks, Wei Ying has groggily revived from his sleep, but Jiang Cheng can still tell he’s not completely regained his senses yet.

  Upon arriving at Wei Ying’s room, Jiang Cheng puts him down carefully on his bed, suppressing all the urge to just just throw him down out of his annoyance. He can’t let him sleep like this. He shakes Wei Ying’s shoulder.

  “Hey, wake up.”

  No response. The room is dark except for the moonlight that very slightly illuminates the small spot next to the window.

  Jiang Cheng moves closer, taking both shoulders with his two hands. He shakes them harder.

  “Wei Ying, you still have to clea-”

  Because it is dark, Jiang Cheng failed to see that Wei Ying has stirred. He is taken by surprise when hands closed around his wrist and he is thrown on the bed. In a flash, he and Wei Ying has changed positions with the latter looming over him, trapping Jiang Cheng’s legs between his knees.

  “Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng hisses, confusion and panic simultaneously filling his mind, “What the hell?”

  Despite the darkness, their eyes meet - one hazy with alcohol, one wide with alarm - and their ragged breathing filled the silence. Wei Ying’s gaze move from Jiang Cheng’s eyes down his mouth, then he drags out a long exhale.

  “Ah Cheng, is this really so…,” his forehead creases in frustration. It seems as if he has so much to say but can’t find the proper words for them. Jiang Cheng can’t find it in him to speak nor to move. Why is his heart beating so fast, threatening to jump out of his chest?

  “Wei Wuxian. You’re really drunk right now.” His words were quick and stern.

  “No, I know. Ah...why is this so hard?”

  Then, Wei Ying moves down, placing his chin on the crook of Jiang Cheng’s neck, stretching the rest of his body so that he’s resting on top of him. This is nothing new, Wei Ying usually becomes when touchy when intoxicated. But the last time he’s like this was years ago. What’s the deal now?

  After a few minutes, Wei Ying’s breathing evens out, a sign that he has completely fallen asleep. Jiang Cheng remains frozen on the bed, his chest beating wildly. Or is it Wei Ying’s that he can feel? He doesn’t know. His mind is still stuck on what has transpired moments ago. Something was happening there, he can sense it, but Jiang Cheng is afraid to understand what it is.

  After a few minutes, he manages to calm himself down and remove Wei Ying on top of him, carefully laying him on bed yet again. This time, Wei Ying is truly out. Jiang Cheng takes it on himself to remove Wei Ying’s shoes, socks, and his club-scented shirt.

  He looks at Wei Ying’s sleeping form, bare back and messy hair, his broad shoulders slightly rising and falling with his breathing. Jiang Cheng places a hand over his own chest. His heart is still racing.

  Perhaps, this time, he truly has taken a misstep. Should he continue to step forward? Or take a step back?

____

Wei Ying knows in himself that he is smarter than people give him credit for and that he will usually end up doing the right decision. He also knows it in himself that when it comes to Jiang Cheng, his whole organ called a brain is reduced to a single cell and will just not function properly.

  Jiang Cheng remained in his room for a few minutes in silence before he finally left. By then, Wei Ying is able to stop pretending to be passed out. He really was drunk when Jiang Cheng arrived at the club, but it easily dissipated on the way home. Still, his alcohol-muddled brain almost made him bring trouble for himself.

  Wei Ying turns, covering his eyes with his arm. The image of Jiang Cheng’s face when he hovered over him can’t seem to leave his mind.

  He is an idiot for thinking he can control his feelings throughout their fake relationship.

  When did he start feeling like this towards Jiang Cheng? Wei Ying wouldn’t know. Having living with Jiang Cheng since he was a kid, they saw each other grow up. They are as close as brothers even, which makes his chest hurt everytime he remembers he wants more than just that. This feeling is like an elephant grass, quietly growing in places one least expects, and when fed, spreads into its surrounding until it becomes a whole meadow. It is a grassland of almosts and could-have-beens, of what-ifs and maybes.

  That time when Jiang Cheng told him about the arranged marriage, a part of him was relieved: at last, Jiang Cheng will be tied to someone else and he cannot dare wish to be with him anymore. A part of him was devastated: I cannot dare wish to be with him anymore.

  Not that he could even before.

  But Jiang Cheng had asked for his help, and there was no way he’d not exert all his effort to end this arranged marriage. Damn the walls that they’d have to face. Wei Ying tried to quell the small fire that started within him, a dangerous flame of hope.

  But paper cannot keep a fire.

  He really should extinguish it before everything is beyond saving.

___

Wei Ying wakes up the next day to the scent of breakfast and tea filling his room. Groggily opening his eyes, he spots Jiang Cheng standing by his bedside table, placing a tray of food on it. The last thing he remembers is thinking about how to finally quell his feelings for Jiang Cheng. He pretty much slept with a solid plan in mind, but seeing him first thing in the morning just threw all of those plans out the window.

  “Already regretting what you did last night?” Jiang Cheng asks him when he sees that he’s already awake.

  For a moment, Wei Ying thought he’s referring to what he almost did to him on the bed.

  “It’s very seldom you get that drunk. Do you even remember a guy almost made his move on you?”

  Ah.

  “I guess I missed the experience?” he tries to laugh it off, but as soon as he spoke, a wave of headache attacks him.

  “Not the hangover, I bet.”

  “Yeah, not this.”

  “And you’re too old to be messing around with people you don’t know.”

  “I never did that.”

  Jiang Cheng reaches for the cup of tea and gives it to him. “This should help with your headache. Sis prepared this for you.”

  He sits up and takes the cup, drinking it in one go. “Thanks.”

  “So, are you going to tell me why you drank yourself to death last night?”

  The way Jiang Cheng looks at him makes Wei Ying want to run for cover. It’s the same look that got him confessing about ruining Yanli’s herb garden when they were ten. It’s also the same look that made Wei Ying spill all of his worries and insecurities before college. He remembers that memory fondly; they were eighteen and reckless, drinking at an almost empty Emperor’s Bar at three in the morning. Those were one of the many times that they had a heart-to-heart talk. He wonders if he could still do the same now.

  “I just feel like… there are times that the more I want to stop something, the more it happens.”

  “And why must it warrant your penchant for alcohol to return?”

  Wei Ying wishes he should have eaten first before going to this conversation. His mind is still on overdrive from the alcohol, and it feels like he can’t stop his tongue from talking.

  “I’m afraid it’s about to ruin the most meaningful relationship I have in my life.”

  One could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed. The two of them, despite being playful, are not at all slow or dim-witted. The moment Wei Ying said those words, he knows Jiang Cheng will understand what and who is he talking about.

  “You’re not drunk anymore, are you?”

  Wei Ying shakes his head.

  Jiang Cheng lets out a dragged sigh. “Why would you want to stop this... whatever's bothering you?”

  “I don't think I deserve it. Someone like me is not worth exchanging for a bright future.”

  Wei Ying looks at his tea. He doesn’t think he can take to look at Jiang Cheng after what he just said. Never in his life has he been this honest about his thoughts.

  Yet, Jiang Cheng’s next words surprise him, making him look at the other in a pleasant surprise: “Who says that you and a bright future have to be mutually exclusive?” Jiang Cheng looks away, but he continues to talk. “I talked with Sis earlier and she realized what I was planning to do. She’s really against it.

  “I’ve talked to her before as well, when she went on a date with Jin Zixuan. Sis said that I myself know what makes me happy. And that I should pursue whatever or whoever that is and keep it for life. I don’t know much about the matters of the heart, but there are two things I now know and just realized: when I’m with you, I’m truly happy. And you’re among the few people I want to keep for life.”

  What is happening? Wei Ying screams inside his head. I was supposed to forget about what I feel!

  “You’re supposed to come up with a break-up story,” he says, trying to brush off all the things Jiang Cheng has just said over his head, “What’s all this?”

  Jiang Cheng turns to face him then, “You said you’re afraid that whatever you’re feeling will ruin the most meaningful relationship in your life right now. I’m telling you it won’t.”

  For years, Wei Ying has learned to accept that no matter what happens, he can never truly attain who his heart desires. He has always thought that at some point, he’ll have to leave the Jiang estate and keep his distance far, far away so that he can start learning to forget. And yet, here he is in front of the person he cares for the most, being told that he has a chance to keep him for life.

  “But, Sis…”

  “It looks like she really likes him, and from her story, it seems that he actually likes her too. We just have to keep a close eye on them. But as for the two of us...we are calling off Step 2.”

  “We are?”

  “Here’s the break-up story you asked me to come up with: we were never together. We faked it so that Jin Hua would not like me anymore. But, as cliche as it sounds, we started to actually like each other. And thus, we’re giving us a chance.”

  Wei Ying lets out a short laugh.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I didn’t think you could say those words with a straight face.” Feeling brave, he scoots closer to Jiang Cheng, bare-chested and all, and rests his chin on his shoulder, “You’re serious about that? Us?”

  “I think I’ve been a fool not to realize sooner.”

  “Indeed. How can you resist this-” he waves a hand over his own body, “-magnificence all these years?”

  “Idiot,” Jiang Cheng flicks his forehead. Still, he lets out a small laugh. The distance between them is too close that Wei Ying can feel how warm his breath is. He smiles fondly, reaching for Jiang Cheng’s hand. He weaves their fingers together, fitting as if they’ve been made for each other from the very start. If perfect can get better, then this must be it.

  “You got something terribly wrong, though.”

  For countless of times they’ve been in this position — faces close, a breath apart, their images reflected on each other’s eyes — yet this is only this time that it finally holds meaning, something like hope and certainty. This time, Wei Ying is sure to turn this grass meadow into a flower field.

  “And what is it?”

  “I’ve liked you since long ago.”

[mayquita]

Pictures of Reality (11/16)

Hi everyone! Here we go again. I’d like to express my gratitude to all those who have given this story a chance, thanks for your likes, comments, kudos and reblogs. It means the world to me.

Summary: Emma Swan returns to her birthplace, Storybrooke, in search of a fresh start after a life marked by abandonment and betrayal. After a year there, she finds the stability she needed and also the possibility of learning about one of her passions, photography. Killian Jones, a former British war reporter with a tragic past, establishes himself in the same town as an instructor of photography, following in the footsteps of his best friends, the Nolans. What will happen when their paths cross? Will their common passion for photography help them heal old wounds?

Rating: M (Language, mature themes, implied sex)

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, mentions of the loss of a limb in an armed conflict.

Other ships / Characters: Although, obviously, this is a cs fic, Snowing plays a major role here, mainly David. In fact, the story contains three different points of view, those of Emma, Killian and David. Also, Henry appears in the story as Regina’s adopted son but he is not Emma’s biological son.

Beta: I’d like to express my gratitude, as always, to my beta @jarienn972 I’m aware that you have had to deal with a monster of more than 100k words and English is not my mother tongue, so I value your effort even more.

Artist / art: Go visit @imagnifika’s blog and enjoy her amazing art. The art that accompanies this chapter perfectly captures a decisive moment in the story.

Art for the prologue/ Art for chapter 1 / Art for chapter 2 and banner / Art for chapter 3/ Art for chapters 4-5  / Art for chapters 6-7/ Art for chapter 8 / Art for chapter 10

Special mention to @saraswans , thank you so much for your perpetual support, for believing in me when I doubted myself and for offering ideas to make this story grow.

Don’t forget to go read and enjoy the rest of the amazing csbb stories and art.

Word count: ~ 6400 (116k total in 16 chapters)

Also on (From the beginning): Ao3 / Ffnet (Current Chapter) Ao3 / Ffnet

Tumblr: Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11

What to expect from this chapter? This chapter is going to be a bit intense... for reasons.

CHAPTER 10

My dearest Emma,

I still can't believe that we've finally been able to see you, actually see you, on your twenty-eighth birthday. Perhaps I could have left you this letter right there, along with the rest of the gifts you received on your special day, had the circumstances been different.

Maybe you wonder why, despite having been here for a few months, crossing paths each day with you through the streets of the town, or attending the same place for dinner, we haven't yet approached you. Or why we haven't told you the truth and we settle for observing you from a distance, to at least make sure that you are living the life that you deserve so much and that had been denied to you until now.

Well, maybe the answer is not the most satisfactory for you, or is it just a reflection of our cowardice, and I wouldn't blame you for thinking like that, but the reality is that the moment we arrived here and Regina told us about your past, we felt completely devastated and consumed by guilt.

Believe me, sweetheart, if we had the certainty that our confession would serve to alleviate your sorrows, we would willingly have bared our souls in front of you, although it would likely have meant that we would lose you forever.

But considering your traumatic experiences that have led you to run on more than one occasion and the history of abandonment and betrayals that you have suffered, we didn't want to risk ruining your life once more. I couldn't bear that because of our fault, you might lose everything you've achieved since you return to Storybrooke.

Because, as I see it from outside, you have become a strong and brave woman, ready to pursue your goals. You're also a caring person with the people you feel comfortable with, like Ruby, Graham, or Henry. And you have achieved all this without our help, so, if for you to maintain stability in your life we must stay away, so be it.

In addition, irony, or perhaps destiny, has decided to give us something beautiful and promising. We learned just yesterday that you will be one of the people who attend the course that Killian will start teaching in a few weeks.

Our Killian and our daughter, united by their passion for photography. I don't care if it's destiny or a simple coincidence, but the fact that you two are going to meet under such circumstances was unimaginable until a few weeks ago and now it has become a reality. You and Killian are going to cross paths and, fortunately, we are going to witness it even from the distance.

Who knows? Maybe Killian finds that hidden gem, that talented person that he always seeks, someone whom he can help develop full potential. Maybe I'm totally biased here, but I'm hoping it's you. Either way, you are already a gem for us, even though we aren't yet able to prove it to you.

Maybe some day...

Until then, your father who loves you and never forgets you,

David.

Emma Swan. Storybrooke - February 26, 2018

When Emma woke up that Monday, the light had barely begun to filter through the window of her bedroom. Still reluctant to get up and continue with her morning routine, she snuggled up between the sheets and let her thoughts wander for a while, bringing to mind the memories of the previous day.

Yesterday…

Emma had learned about Killian's birthday through his friends. The information had also come with a warning. He did not celebrate his birthday since his brother passed away. Even so, they always managed to spend the day with him and they hoped that this time she would join that kind of non-celebration.

Again, that feeling of belonging that was becoming habitual since she came to Storybrooke, settled in her stomach, spreading a warm feeling all over her body. Even so, she also felt some hesitation, not quite sure how to act in front of Killian, wondering if it was more appropriate to continue to respect his wishes or on the contrary, to subtly encourage him to move on with small details like being with him on that day or offer him a small gift.

The talk a few days ago with Mary Margaret had allowed her self-confidence to take hold, so she decided to let herself go, loosening the control she used to have over everything and instead be attentive to the little hints she would find along the way that would help her to follow the correct direction.

It was like that, quite literally, as she found the perfect gift for him. She was walking towards Killian's apartment when her gaze caught something that made her stop short in front of the pawn shop window. Right there, as if it were calling her, she found a vintage photo album bound in leather, with a small message engraved on the cover — ‘Collect Beautiful Moments’. That album definitely had Killian’s name on it so, without thinking twice, she went into the store and acquired it, writing inside a personalized note with the aim of explaining with her own words the symbolism of the present.

Sometime later, while waiting for Killian to arrive, she had a nice time with the Nolans while they showed her old photo albums full of memories. Unlike Christmas, she did not feel like an intruder at a family event, but rather included, as if she really belonged there, with this unconventional family, with these friends who really acted as proud parents of their son while offering to his girlfriend some embarrassing details of his youth, or remembered all the experiences they had lived together.

Although she longed to know more about Killian, to know everything about his origins, and she was more than grateful with the Nolans for offering her these happy glimpses of his past, she could not help feeling a little thorn in her heart since, again, she had to settle for witnessing the happiness of other people, while the craving to experience something similar washed over her.

Her mixed feelings faded into the background the moment she noticed Killian's presence. She had been so engrossed in the conversation with the Nolans and in her own thoughts that she had not heard him arrive. But now that he was there, everything around them seemed to vanish, her only goal to look up and make sure he was okay with that little surprise.

What she found did nothing but increase the endless feelings that danced within her. She detected how his body was tense although his troubled expression and his stormy gaze quickly morphed to an almost awe expression as his gaze softened when it met hers.

After a tentative first approach, he clung to her, as if he was afraid that she would disappear. Since she was not good with words, she chose to assure him through her acts and her displays of affection that she was not going anywhere.

Killian Jones was a complex man, no doubt, but also a challenge for her in the sense of trying to climb those walls that acted as a barrier and discover the real Killian behind all those layers that covered him. And she was more than willing to keep trying.

The tension did not completely disappear from Killian for the rest of the day. She sometimes detected a glimpse of something akin to resignation, but at least that stormy expression had softened, allowing them to enjoy a quiet and pleasant evening, the four of them together, adding up memories that would be immortalized both in the photographs they took and in her own album of memories that she kept in her heart.

She waited for his friends — maybe now it was appropriate to use the term ‘their’, at least she felt it, she hoped that the feeling was reciprocal — to leave to give him her humble gift since she preferred to do it in privacy, turning it into a moment just for them.

For a moment, she thought she had made a terrible mistake, holding her breath as she watched Killian's reaction intently. He stiffened, holding the object in an awkward way as he stared at her, as if he couldn't believe what was happening.

After those first seconds of shock, his gaze fell on the album while his fingers slid delicately over the leather cover in an almost reverent way. After reading the handwritten note she had left inside, his gaze traveled back to her, staring at her in such a way that her head began to spin, her heart fluttering furiously against her chest.

"Thank you so much, Swan, you didn't need..." He reached up to scratch behind his ear, but his gaze never left hers. "I'm not sure I deserve this." His lips pressed together drawing the ghost of a smile.

She shrugged her shoulders. "It's just a photo album."

"Aye..." Killian remained pensive for a moment, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, "but just for the record, I have every intention of you appearing on all these pages with me."

It was a simple phrase, innocuous enough, but she did not lose the intrinsic meaning. She had offered him the possibility of a future and he was offering her, in return, the possibility of being part of that future. That was the only thing she needed at the moment.

The alarm clock announcing the time to get up got her out of her reverie. Even so, she still remained a while longer in bed, lying on her back with her arms folded and her hands under the back of her head, allowing herself a few seconds more of introspection.

Even though her wounds from the past had not yet healed enough and Killian's still seemed to continue to bleed from time to time, she was going to hold on to any possible future that awaited them together. They were meant to be together, she felt it in the depths of her very soul and she was going to do everything possible to make that happen.

And that began by acting and fighting for what she wanted. And if there was one thing she was sure of, it was that she wanted Killian, the charismatic teacher, the traumatized war reporter, the loyal friend, the glimpses of fiery lover she had gotten.

With a new goal in mind, she hurried out of bed feeling a surge of energy take over her body. She was not going to stand by letting the opportunity pass, she was going to cling to it. And if that meant starting to share breakfast with her boyfriend — yes, boyfriend, she was no longer afraid of that word — as a normal couple, so be it.

Killian Jones. Storybrooke - February 26, 2018

The irony decided to show its face to Killian once more, as if it was laughing at his expense. He remembered having serious difficulties finding an available flight when he had needed to travel urgently because of some unforeseen event. However today, it only took him five minutes to acquire a plane ticket that would take him back to London tomorrow.

The moment his finger pressed the button that would allow him to finish the purchase, a wave of regret seized him. That sinking feeling accompanied him for the next few minutes, when he took the suitcase out of the closet and moved it to his living room.

The purchase of the ticket did not change anything, he could still decide not to take that plane. In addition, it was a round trip ticket with the return scheduled within five days. It was not like he was fleeing forever, he tried to convince himself - without much success, really.

If he himself wasn't convinced, he doubted that he would convince Emma and his friends. With Emma, he would have to resort to a small deception, adding one more weight to the burden of guilt he carried. In regards to David and Mary Margaret, he had decided to tell them that night during dinner.

He expected his friends to understand his reasons. He didn't do it as a desperate measure to force them to confess the truth to Emma, but rather the contrary, to allow them to experience some more time together, getting to know each other more. He only intended to give them more time to figure out how to approach the subject.

The image he had witnessed the day before had pierced his heart. It was undeniable that Emma should know the truth; it was unfair that she was involved in this game of lies. That was what was killing him inside, the helplessness and frustration of being between a rock and a hard place when all he wanted was for the three of them to achieve the happiness that had been denied to them before.

He was aware that he was carrying out an act of cowardice, at least in the eyes of the others, but he felt so pressured that he was no longer sure what he was supposed to do. Should he behave like the honorable man and confess the truth to Emma, even at the risk of betraying his friends? Should he keep the secret, knowing that this would mean the impossibility of maintaining a relationship with Emma?

There was something of which he had absolute certainty, though. He was not going to, under any circumstances, ignore that secret with the sole objective of keeping Emma by his side. If he already felt ashamed for his weakness, for not being able to resist her charms, for having fallen under her spell, he could not forgive himself continuing to take advantage of her ignorance.

The doorbell announcing the arrival of someone brought him back to reality. He realized that he had remained standing in the middle of the room, lost in thought while the empty suitcase was in front of him waiting to be filled.

He shook his head, brushing aside those thoughts for the moment as he wondered who was visiting him so early. David would probably already be in the newspaper office and Mary Margaret would have already arrived at school. Maybe it was Emma, on her way to the town hall. The corners of his lips instinctively rose at that thought, while his heart fluttered in anticipation, though her presence in his apartment at that moment would mean inflicting one more torture on his already battered heart.

"Hey," Indeed, it was Emma who had decided to pay him an unexpected visit. She was wearing a cute beanie, her hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders, her cheeks colored with a slight pink halo due to the cold and a wide smile pulling at her lips. She was a vision with the ability to take his breath away. "I brought breakfast." He forced his gaze away from her face, his eyes sliding to the paper bag with Granny's logo she was holding.

He swallowed hard as he managed a smile that he hoped was enough to hide his inner turmoil. "You've read my mind, love. I could do with a cup of coffee." 

She grinned at him, gave him a peck on the lips and, without waiting to be invited to come in, she passed by his side in the direction of his kitchen. He could not help feeling somewhat marveled by the ease with which she seemed to move through his apartment, demonstrating how comfortable she felt not only with him, but with what surrounded him.

His satisfaction was short-lived, though. Just as she was walking through his living room, she stopped in her tracks, her eyes fixed on a particular point in the room. Holding his breath, he followed the direction of her gaze to find the empty suitcase on the coffee table. Bloody hell! He had completely forgotten the damn thing.

"Are you going somewhere?" Her head turned in his direction as she gave him an inquiring look, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

His hand reached out to rub the back of his neck while his brain began to scramble frantically for a convincing enough excuse. Bloody hell! He had thought he would see her later for lunch so he still hadn't had time to look for an explanation that might work.

"Aye... something has come up... I have to travel to London to make some arrangements before starting the new course." He managed to mumble a poor excuse that did not sound convincing, while he hated himself a little in the process.

"London?" Emma blinked a couple of times as if she were processing the information. Her previous carefree expression gave way to one of confusion. "When?"

"Tomorrow afternoon." Her eyes widened slightly, so Killian hurried to offer something that would help reassure her. "It will only be a couple of days."

Emma nodded subtly, pressing her lips together into a thin line as she made her way to the kitchen and deposited the paper bag on the counter. Then she turned, standing in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest, her head tilted slightly.

"You know, if you had told me before, I could have accompanied you. I've never been to London… I could have taken a couple of days off…” A shadow of hurt crossed her gaze but she seemed to recover immediately, the corners of her lips twitching into a tiny smile as she shrugged. "Anyway... we better start breakfast or I'll be late and Regina will kill me."

He felt utterly miserable, a new wave of guilt tightened his gut, threatening to further weaken his fragile composure. The image of Emma discovering London through his eyes and his experiences was so damn tempting that for a fraction of a second he was about to send everything to hell, grabbing her by the hand and getting out of there, the two of them together, missing from the rest of the world for a while. He had no choice but to restrain himself, though, and instead, he offered her a poor substitute. "I apologize, Swan, the trip came somewhat unexpectedly, but I'd like to travel with you to London one day."

The faint smile she returned did not reach her eyes. He had to hold back a sigh of frustration as he approached her and began to pull the food out of the bag in an attempt to make breakfast distract him enough. It didn't work, she did not even bother to take off her coat, implying that her visit would be brief. Although they made the effort to keep a carefree talk, he could feel the tension in the atmosphere.

Ten minutes later, she got up, going to the front door. "I really have to go. See you later?" The hint of insecurity in her voice caused a new pang of guilt piercing his heart.

"Sure, I'll grab some lunch and go find you at the city hall." He affirmed in an attempt to reassure her.

She nodded, the corners of her lips moved slightly upward. "I... you know ... Do you want me to get you to the airport tomorrow?"

For all response, he pulled her to him in a tight embrace, the need to feel the warmth of her body against his too overwhelming. "Believe me, Swan, there's nothing I'd like more." He whispered in her ear. “I’ll come back to you in a couple of days.”

The moment the door closed behind her, Killian was aware that he was making a terrible mistake. Letting out a deep breath, he leaned his back and head against the door while pinching the bridge of his nose.

How could he have been so blind as to not realize the reason behind the vulnerability shown by Emma? How could he not only have neglected her abandonment issues, but feed them with his evasive attitude? He resisted the urge to bang his head against the wooden surface in frustration. Instead, he groaned inwardly while his hand curled into a fist.

He could not take that flight. Not when it meant leaving Emma, even for a couple of days. He would meet her for lunch and tell her that there had been a change of plans, that he could travel with her at another time. He had no choice but to regain the strength necessary to face what was to come. He only hoped that he would be able to protect Emma in some way.

Emma Swan. Storybrooke - February 26, 2018

He is leaving, leaving, leaving. Emma tried to block that thought, make it disappear from her mind, but she felt too weak or helpless, unable to cope with that sinking feeling that had settled in her stomach.

Deep down, she knew that she was being irrational, that Killian would never abandon her. But the suitcase, his evasive answers and his expression of ill-concealed guilt had awakened her old demons who soon emerged from their hiding corner and began tormenting her.

She did not even know how she got here to the office, too consumed by those disturbing sensations. Even so, she made the effort to get involved in her work with the goal of getting distracted enough. And she got it for half an hour. Until she had to talk on the phone with someone who, without her asking him, told her that he had just arrived from London.

Fucking London... He had to travel to the damn other side of the ocean... And to think that the morning had started well, with her determination to develop the next step in her relationship with Killian. And all that she found was a sudden trip sprinkled with evasiveness. She tried to find a logical explanation, though, still reluctant to think that she had been betrayed once again.

That spiral of sensations and thoughts did not disappear when Emma was called to Regina's office to deliver some reports. That's what happens when you lower your walls, that you risk being hurt, her inner voice reminded her...

"Emma!"

The unexpected shout caused her to flinch and wake up from her reverie. Feeling her cheeks flush, she looked up and found Regina staring at her through her narrow eyes.

"I pay you to do your job, not to be there absorbed, thinking God knows what and ignoring when I speak to you." Regina's authoritative voice caused her to straighten her back, as she tried to get Killian out of her mind for at least a few minutes.

"Sorry, I got distracted for a moment." Emma mumbled an excuse as she focused her gaze on the documents she was holding.

"Okay then, spit it out."

“What?” Emma looked up at Regina again, not sure that she understood correctly.

Regina rolled her eyes as she pursed her lips, she was losing patience, clearly. "Just tell me what's going on in your head. We'll deal with it and move on to what's really important, my job and this town. I'm a very busy person, in case you forgot."

Emma had to suppress a gasp of surprise. Was she being serious? No way was she going to confess her worries to Regina. She was not only not her friend but also her damn boss. But on the other hand, she had a point... Emma shifted uncomfortably in her seat while appreciating Regina's proposal. She really needed to expel those thoughts, for someone to tell her that she was being ridiculous. And Regina was the person available right now...

"He's leaving." To her horror, the words came out of her mouth without her having had time to process it.

"He? Who?"

Emma groaned inwardly, wishing she were anywhere else instead of here, feeling like a student in the principal's office. "Killian, he's leaving for London." The way Regina was looking at her did nothing to alleviate her inner turmoil. Something flashing in her gaze as her features darkened slightly. "Look, I know it's stupid - he's coming back in a couple of days, so can we continue with the meeting and forget all this?"

Luck was not on her side that day because, after remaining pensive for a few seconds, Regina muttered almost to herself, "So that boyfriend of yours is also a coward - just like his friends."

Emma felt her stomach drop to her toes as her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Far from reassuring her, her boss's words had left her even more uneasy. "What are you talking about?"

She held Regina's gaze for a few seconds studying her features in an attempt to find out what was happening. Regina’s face remained impassive, but Emma did detect a shadow crossing her gaze, perhaps shame, maybe regret, she was not sure. After what seemed like an eternity, Regina let out a deep sigh as her shoulders slumped a bit. "Taking into account that the photographer hasn’t managed to handle the situation and has decided to flee instead, I guess it's only fair that it's me who tells you the truth. I brought you here in the first place, after all."

The truth? What truth? A myriad of thoughts, each more disturbing, crowded in her head causing it to start spinning. What do Killian’s friends have to do with all this? And what about Regina herself? A wave of panic began to creep from her stomach to her throat, as the desire to run away from there became more intense. In the end, her curiosity won, "Just tell me what's going on." She hissed in a tone perhaps sharper than she intended but this whole situation was getting on her nerves.

Regina's features softened and even Emma detected a glimpse of something akin to pity. That could not mean anything good. She didn't want pity, she didn't need it, did she? She felt a strange sensation taking over her, like a bad omen approaching unstoppable. She held her breath as her stomach tightened into knots.

"It's about your parents, Emma."

My parents ... Her blood froze as she clung to the desk with such force that her knuckles turned white. "What about them?" She managed to mumble in a trembling voice.

"Let me clarify something before continuing, if I'm telling you this, it's because I don't get why after all that they have gone through... and also all of what you have gone through... they still prefer to keep hiding..."

"Just tell me." Emma cut her abruptly, causing Regina to flinch slightly in her seat. At the moment, she didn't want explanations or excuses, she just wanted to know what the hell was happening.

"Killian... well, both he and I know who your parents are." Regina finally admitted in an apologetic tone.

Far from bringing some light to the situation, Regina's confession left her even more confused. How was it possible? Killian had been in Storybrooke for only four months, there was no way he knew this information when he had been living all this time in London... The only contact he had ever had with anyone from here was with…

"No!" It can't be! No no no. She felt all the air leaving her lungs while she refused to accept that possibility, trying to block her mind. Her attempts were in vain though since her brain began to act on its own, tying up loose ends and processing all the information. Killian was the one who had introduced them to her, he had also been the one who had propitiated the first encounters, who had talked to her constantly about his friends...

Any doubts she might have had disappeared when Regina confirmed in words what she had already deduced. "I'm afraid so, Emma. David and Mary Margaret are your parents. They..."

"No!" Emma raised a finger in warning. She did not want to hear anything else. It was as if someone had ripped her heart from her chest and was squeezing it slowly with every memory that came to her mind, with every moment shared with them, inflicting even more suffering.

"Emma, let me explain..."

She shook her head as she rose abruptly and headed for the door, unable to look Regina in the eye. "I gotta go." Emma said, her voice even, though she felt her blood boiling. The weight of the betrayal was so high that she was not sure she could maintain the little composure she still had left. She should get out of there immediately. Ignoring one last call from Regina, she went to her desk, grabbed her purse and coat and then walked to the exit.

A raw rage began to bubble inside her. Unable to handle everything that was happening, she blocked the thoughts about Regina's involvement and completely ignored the revelation about the Nolans. Instead, she focused all her fury on one target - on the person she had blindly trusted. To whom she had given her heart.

//

The ride to Killian's apartment, far from appeasing her anger, increased that sinking feeling that had settled low in her stomach as she was assimilating all the information received. Tears of humiliation threatened to slide down her cheeks, but she blinked stubbornly holding them back.

Gradually, she realized that she had remained oblivious to a whole plot that had been hatched around her. Emma wondered bitterly how far the threads of these machinations would reach, while the bubble of stability she had lived in when she came to Storybrooke exploded, splashing her with a whole series of questions to which she hoped —or maybe feared— to find an answer.

It was as if everything she had experienced since arriving in the town was part of a huge farce, from her job, the photography course, or even Killian's feelings. A wave of shame and rejection washed over her when she remembered the conversation she had had with Mary Margaret a few days ago, causing her anger to boil again in her veins.

Fortunately, the arrival at the building where Killian's apartment was located stopped that escalation of feelings. Instead, she directed all her energy and anger into a single target. She would have time to deal with everything else, later.

There was a brief moment of hesitation when she reached his door. She felt all her emotions radiating off of her, like a volcano about to erupt. Maybe if she went home and tried to calm down enough she would be able to keep a cool head when the inevitable conversation with Killian took place. She rejected that idea almost at the same instant it crossed her mind. The need to expel those feelings that bubbled inside her was too tempting, although, in the brief lapses of lucidity that dared to appear among so much contained anger, she was aware that she was opting for the easy way. "I don't care." She muttered to herself as she pounded on the door hard.

The moment the door opened, she marched directly towards Killian poking a finger into his chest. "You damn asshole - how dare you?"

He recoiled at her advance, his eyes widening in surprise. "What are you talking about, love? What's wrong?"

"You don't have to keep pretending, I already know the truth about your friends." She threw the last words with contempt, knowing the impact they would have on him. She wasn't wrong. His face suddenly paled, his mouth fell open on a gasp.

"They told you?" He asked in a small whimper.

She huffed, while shaking her head, "It was Regina." She placed her hands on her hips in a defiant attitude. "It seems that your friends are just cowards like you."

To his credit, he seemed genuinely affected, his face contorted in an expression reflecting a mixture of hurt and shame. But she didn't let herself be daunted, hardening her features as she continued her verbal attack without even waiting for a reply. "I trusted you, Killian! How could you do this to me?"

"Emma, let me explain, please." He almost begged, tentatively advancing towards her.

She jumped back instinctively, raising a hand in front of her, thereby avoiding the possibility of her body betraying her due to his proximity. "You lost your chance to explain yourself at the same moment you decided to lie to me. How could you take advantage of me like that?" Emma forced herself to swallow the lump that was forming in her throat. In no way was she going to break in front of him, although the truth was that she was dying inside. She repressed those feelings though, leaving them for the privacy of her apartment.

To her surprise, he did not try to defend himself or repel the attack. He simply dropped himself on the couch, breathing out on a shaky exhale, his shoulders slumped, his lips pressed together in a thin line. He seemed defeated. "I'm so sorry, Emma." He muttered as he ran his hand through his hair.

Emma hesitated for a moment. She needed to fight, to expel these feelings that were threatening to drown her, but she couldn't do it with someone who was already defeated. He wasn't even going to try to hit back. "That's all you have to say? That you are sorry? Are you aware that you've ruined my life? That I don't know what is real in my life anymore?" Frustration and impotence began to take their toll, her voice slid between her lips in a broken murmur.

This time Killian did seem to react. He looked up, seeking her gaze. "I assure you, Swan, that my feelings towards you have always been real." For a moment, she was lost in the intensity of his eyes, they had always had a hypnotic effect on her, even in this moment of such tension. But she shook her head breaking the spell. She was not going to be distracted by two pretty blue eyes.

"You have a strange way of showing it, don't you?" He flinched at the harshness of her tone and the sarcasm of her voice. Something caught her attention at that moment. The suitcase, the original cause of this situation, was no longer on the coffee table. Still, that didn't prevent the pain of a possible abandonment for being more bearable. "And you know what is the worst of all? That in spite of my abandonment issues, you were willing to do just that. At the moment when things get tough, you leave, don't you? Maybe you couldn't bear the pressure of lying to me? Or did you decide it wasn't even worth the effort?" This time Emma had to suppress a sob, but she could not stop thick tears from starting to run down her cheeks.

"I was coming back to you, Emma. The return trip was scheduled for next Saturday." He defended himself in a weak voice. It wasn't enough for her, because she still did not know the reasons that had made him travel in the first place. She was about to reply when he continued. "I wasn't abandoning you. I just needed a few days to think about all this. I also know what it is to lose someone. I could never do that to you, Emma, I promise."

Emma hesitated again, her heart beating frantically in her chest. The hurt was evident both in his broken voice and in his expression. But when she processed his words, she felt a new twinge go through her. "It's not the same and you know it. Your mother, Liam, Milah, they all died. They're dead." She was aware of the damage he was inflicting with her words, but she was unable to stop, a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings swirling inside her, struggling to surface. She did not have the strength to fight against them. "They didn't choose to leave you. But what about me? Starting with your friends, they all chose and decided that I wasn't enough. Everyone - even you."

"That's not true, Emma, they chose to come back for you." Killian got up trying to reach her.

"No!" She stopped his advance, feeling an extreme exhaustion overtake her. "I can't continue with this." Her voice trailed off as she wiped her tears and began to walk in the direction of the front door. She felt again a lost girl, confused and adrift, without anyone to turn to, without knowing who to trust anymore.

"Emma, wait!" She stopped but didn't turn around, unable to hold his gaze and his stormy expression again, "I understand and accept that you are mad at me, but they are your parents. They love you. Please, Emma, I'm begging you, give them at least an opportunity to explain themselves."

A new wave of tears began to slide down her cheeks. Parents... She not only hadn't been enough for them when she was born, but neither was her when they found her, choosing not to confess the truth.

There was something even more painful, something that squeezed her stomach to the point of feeling almost physically sick. They, her parents, had chosen to act as substitute parents of another person, precisely the person she had fallen in love with and who had betrayed her in a cruel way. Because of them. They had chosen Killian over her - taking care of him instead of doing it with her when she needed them the most.

"My parents died in a traffic accident when I was three years old." She muttered before finally leaving his apartment.

Killian Jones. Storybrooke - February 26, 2018

Killian watched helplessly as Emma left his apartment without him being able to do anything about it. The moment she disappeared from view, he felt as if all his energy had been drained from his body, noticing how a sense of emptiness invaded him and left him dazed. Before dropping back onto the couch, he grabbed his phone and typed a quick text.

She already knows. I'm deeply sorry, Dave. KJ

Then he switched off the device and left it on the coffee table. The feeling of despair was so intense that his body began to tremble slightly. He closed his eyes resting his head against the back of the sofa, but that did not alleviate his internal agitation. He had failed not only Emma but his friends. He could never forgive himself.

//

TheLadySwan .........

//

I'm sorry, again... Thanks for reading. Let me know what did you all think :)

What to expect from the next chapter? As many of you had already imagined, Emma hasn't taken well to know the truth. We will see how she feels after her confrontation with Killian and how Killian and the Nolans deal with this new unfortunate situation.

[happymetalgirl]

Attila - Villain

As with any Attila project, it's probably easiest to separately discuss the instrumental facet of the music apart from the douchy bravado of frontman Chris Fronzack that often carries it. Attila has never really been anything special for deathcore from an instrumental standpoint, but they've at least been decent enough at keeping up with the advances in production that have proven to bring the most out of bands playing in that genre. For the past two or three years, it has seemed that the optimal stylistic and production-related approach to deathcore has been discovered and made wide use of, and Attila do use it here too. The nu metal-influenced simplicity of Attila's approach to deathcore has been made all the more muscular by the increased thickness of the bass tones, the crunchy clarity of the down-tuned guitars, and thunderous booming of the drums all mixed into deathcore's optimized presets. What it highlights though, is how dependent Attila are on their production, and when they don't really sound much heavier than all the rest of the deathcore out there now, their compositional creativities don't really make up for the ground they've lost. The short, one-note slamming of the opening track, "Perdition", quickly spends all the novelty of the band's production on a flashy first impression that they don't really ever ascend past on the rest of the album. There are a few, few, catchy moments on here, like the gang-vocal-led chorus of "It Is What It Is" or the sick, punchy opening riff of "Toxic". But for the vast majority of the album, the band just flounder though unimaginative nu metal riffs and deathcore's most typical grooves and breakdowns.

As far as the vocals go, Chris Fronzack has always been a perfectly capable deathcore vocalist with plenty of tangible hedonistic attitude drawn from modern hip hop to give his delivery a signature douchiness, as well as incorporating other techniques to switch up the usual deathcore growl/scream/bleh formula, and on the songs "Bad Habits" and "Subhuman" he does dip his toes into a little bit of that raspy melodic singing that Oli Sykes has made so popular. The results are satisfactory and certainly proof that Fronzack can indeed perform that technique well enough, but the melodies themselves are nothing mind-blowing, and they're certainly not fitting amid the rest of the album's remorseless, youthful, energetic indulgence, nor is it enough to spice up the album's overall instumental typicality. This album, and this band really would be nowhere without that notorious man at the microphone though, and his presence here certainly steals the spotlight again on this album, even if it's for all the wrong reasons.

Frontman Chris Fronzack's reputation certainly precedes and prevails over Attila's music, and for as long as I've heard anything from Attila, it's been beneficial to them, because I sure as hell couldn't see them raising their head up from the vast sea of deathcore without Fronz' bold presence and repeated prodding at his detractors. And for the past few albums now especially, Fronz' persistence as a thorn in the side of his critics with his defiant, bragadocious, and confrontational attitude has been the focus of Attila's music. And with Villain here, Fronz is simply exuding the persona he has long come to terms with as being exactly that for the metal community. As much as Fronz' rebellious charisma has built Attila's foundation (even if it is on hate-clicks), what he does from album to album really isn't all too variant. He and Attila have always been about booze, drugs, sex, partying, and flexing all in the name of fun and sticking a middle finger up to anyone trying to police them. While I know Fronz does genuinely live and love (as far as I can tell) the fast lane lifestyle he portrays in his lyrics, I sure hope he's hamming it up for the cameras on this one because if there's one thing that's different about this album from previous Attila albums, it's how hard Fronz leans into the truly villainous persona he's thrived on. And it's pretty ugly at a few spots, the most notable of which is the lyrics of the song, "Still About It", a callback to their 2012 album, About That Life. The song's intro features a play on Trump's infamous pussy-grabbing quote, with Fronz going for "cunt" instead with seemingly no added irony beyond what the album and the band's reputation already establish. Fronz goes on to basically detail how much of a sex addict he is, with tons of degradation and objectification of the women of his sexual pursuit thrown in as well. The song "Manipulate" isn't too much better though, with Fronz just expressing his will to outdo whoever he's addressing with this song in a cycle of exactly what the song is titled for.

The rest of the album's lyricism is basically the lyric trash that wannabe SoundCloud rappers spam on hip hop instrumentals, which is what Attila has always done, but it seems so much less fun this time around. And where it would have been fun, it just seems stale at best or unnecessarily intentionally mean spirited at worst. Like this Fronz seems less like the life of the party and more like the loud annoying asshole that wants to turn the kickback into a rager, calls everyone a pussy, gets way too pushy with the girls there, and kills the vibe by trying too hard to go hard and turning everyone's party mood off. Like that kind of drunk buffoon with the buzz wearing off near the end of the night, Fronz gets a little bit introspective on a few songs on here like "Subhuman" and "Bad Habits", asking himself why he's stuck in the vicious cycles he's in, but like a true drunk with no intention of actually mending his flaws he never comes to any conclusions, or he shies away from coming to them. He just moans and drums up a little pity party for anyone with any patience left for him to reluctantly oblige to and comfort him.

On this album Fronz leaned a little too hard on the actual villainous aspects of his real-life or (hopefully) stage character like sex addiction, vindictiveness, and degradation of women. Rather than coming off as the exuberant, loveable party animal that just wants to get everyone to stop taking themselves so seriously for a minute, he just comes across as an abusive, selfish asshole more concerned with trying to maintain his reputation as a badass party king than with actually trying to make the party fun for everyone around him. And based on the blandness of the music backing him, it seems like his bandmates eren't really feeling the vibes he's putting out there either. This album doesn't really feel like it's as much of a party as it is a drunken diatribe from Fronz about what a big shot he is compared to everyone else, how much pussy he supposedly scores, and how much you should be jealous of him. Like anyone actually doing that shit at a kickback, I can't help but think that for Fronz too it's coming from a place of insecurity. His band split from Sharptone Records after just one album and released this one independently to almost no hype; I only heard about it the day or two before. With deathcore becoming less lucrative and with more creative bands coming onto a level playing field with Attila at the production booth, and with his rebelious bad-boy shtick growing stale, it seems that Fronz has seen the same writing on the wall Fred Durst saw after Limp Bizkit began to come down from their peak. And now that Fronz has fully revealed the selfishness of his motives all along as he tries to party harder and harder in the futile attempt to keep his buzz up and his band's buzz alive, it'll be an interesting, although predictably ugly sight to see how this band handles their numbered days.

Winding down buzz/10

[your-dietician]

Britney Spears’s Conservatorship Nightmare | The New Yorker

New Post has been published on https://depression-md.com/britney-spearss-conservatorship-nightmare-the-new-yorker/

Britney Spears’s Conservatorship Nightmare | The New Yorker

On June 22nd, Britney Spears’s management team started getting nervous. Spears, who is thirty-nine, has spent the past thirteen years living under a conservatorship, a legal structure in which a person’s personal, economic, and legal decision-making power is ceded to others. Called a guardianship in most states, the arrangement is intended for people who cannot take care of themselves. Since the establishment of Spears’s conservatorship, she has released four albums, headlined a global tour that grossed a hundred and thirty-one million dollars, and performed for four years in a hit Las Vegas residency. Yet her conservators, who include her father, Jamie Spears, have controlled her spending, communications, and personal decisions.

In April, Spears had requested a hearing, in open court, to discuss the terms of the arrangement. It was scheduled for June 23rd. Members of Spears’s team, most of whom have had little or no direct contact with her for years, didn’t expect drastic changes to result. Two years earlier, in the midst of health struggles and pressure from Spears, Jamie had stepped down from his duties overseeing her personal life, and now the team thought that perhaps she wanted to remove him as the conservator of her financial affairs. Some of the team told reporters that they believed Spears liked the conservatorship arrangement, as long as her father wasn’t involved.

Running the business of Britney had become routine: every Thursday at noon, about ten people responsible for managing Spears’s legal and business affairs, public relations, and social media met to discuss merchandise deals, song-license requests, and Spears’s posts to Instagram and Twitter. (“This is how it works without her,” one member of the team said.) Spears, according to her management, typically writes the posts and submits them to CrowdSurf, a company employed to handle her social media, which then uploads them. In rare cases, posts that raise legal questions have been deemed too sensitive to upload. “She’s not supposed to discuss the conservatorship,” the team member said.

On the eve of the hearing, according both to a person close to Spears and to law enforcement in Ventura County, California, where she lives, Spears called 911 to report herself as a victim of conservatorship abuse. (Emergency calls in California are generally accessible to the public, but the county, citing an ongoing investigation, sealed the records of Spears’s call.) Members of Spears’s team began texting one another frantically. They were worried about what Spears might say the next day, and they discussed how to prepare in the event that she went rogue. In court on the 23rd, an attorney for the conservatorship urged the judge to clear the courtroom and seal the transcript of Spears’s testimony. Spears, calling into the hearing, objected. “Somebody’s done a good job at exploiting my life,” she said, adding, “I feel like it should be an open-court hearing—they should listen and hear what I have to say.” Then, for the first time in years, Spears spoke for herself, sounding lucid and furious, talking so fast that the judge interjected repeatedly to tell her to slow down, to allow for accurate transcription. “The people who did this to me should not get away,” Spears said. Addressing the judge directly, she added, “Ma’am, my dad, and anyone involved in this conservatorship, and my management, who played a huge role in punishing me when I said no—Ma’am, they should be in jail.”

For the next twenty minutes, Spears described how she had been isolated, medicated, financially exploited, and emotionally abused. She assigned harsh blame to the California legal system, which she said let it all happen. She added that she had tried to complain to the court before but had been ignored, which made her “feel like I was dead,” she said—“like I didn’t matter.” She wanted to share her story publicly, she said, “instead of it being a hush-hush secret to benefit all of them.” She added, “It concerns me I’ve been told I’m not allowed to expose the people who did this to me.” At one point, she told the court, “All I want is to own my money, for this to end, and for my boyfriend to drive me in his fucking car.”

Spears’s remarks were incendiary but, for people familiar with the creation and the functioning of her conservatorship, not surprising. Andrew Gallery, a photographer who worked for Spears in 2008, attended the hearing, watching the lawyers’ faces on a monitor. “As she spoke, I wanted to scream, and gasp, and shout ‘What the fuck is going on?’ ” he said. “But the lawyers had no reaction. They just sat there.”

The conservatorship was instituted by Spears’s family—in part out of real concerns about her mental health, people close to the family said. But the family was divided by money and fame, and Spears, in an underregulated part of the legal system, was stripped of her rights. She has fought for years to get them back.

As a pop star, Spears sustained a multinational industry of managers, agents, producers, lawyers, publicists, and assorted hangers-on. As the subject of the conservatorship, she has provided for the livelihood of even more lawyers and other court-appointed professionals. Jacqueline Butcher, a former friend of the Spears family who was present in court for the conservatorship’s creation, said she regrets the testimony that she offered to help secure it. “At the time, I thought we were helping,” she said. “And I wasn’t, and I helped a corrupt family seize all this control.”

Jamie Spears, who is sixty-eight, has graying hair and a hangdog demeanor. When he was thirteen, he endured an unimaginable tragedy: his mother committed suicide on the grave of one of her sons, who had died eight years earlier, at just three days old. In high school, Jamie was a basketball and football star; later, he worked as a welder and a cook. Lynne Spears, Britney’s mother, grew up with Jamie, in the small town of Kentwood, Louisiana. Sixty-six years old, she has a smile like Britney’s and thick dark hair with bangs. She used to run her own day-care center. Friends describe her as traditional and nonconfrontational. In a conversation in June, she was fastidiously polite as she declined to answer detailed questions about the case. She spoke in a whisper and apologized that she might have to hang up abruptly if other family members walked in and discovered her speaking to a reporter. “I got mixed feelings about everything,” she said. “I don’t know what to think. . . . It’s a lot of pain, a lot of worry.” She added, a little wryly, “I’m good. I’m good at deflecting.” Jamie and Lynne eloped when she was twenty-one, and the marriage was troubled from the start: in divorce papers filed, then withdrawn, in 1980, less than two years before Britney’s birth, Lynne accused Jamie of cheating on her on Christmas Day. Jamie wrestled with alcoholism, going on benders so egregious that Lynne once shelled his cooler with a shotgun.

But Jamie and Lynne worked together to make Britney, their second child, happy and a success. She was a born performer, a scene-stealer at dance recitals starting at age three. Her parents drove her to small dance competitions in Lafayette, then to larger ones in New Orleans. They borrowed money from friends to pay for gas to get her to auditions. Spears snagged an understudy role on Broadway and then a stint in the nineties version of “The Mickey Mouse Club.” When she was sixteen, she signed a six-album deal with Jive Records, thanks to an enterprising entertainment lawyer named Larry Rudolph, who became her manager. A precise and commanding dancer with an unmistakable vocal tone of sugary coyness, Spears emerged as a teen-pop singularity. In 1998, the music video for her début single, “. . . Baby One More Time,” featuring a sixteen-year-old Spears in a Catholic-schoolgirl outfit, exploded across American pop culture like fireworks on the Fourth of July. The pleated skirt and bare midriff were her idea—a fact that’s sometimes cited as evidence of her self-determination but might also suggest an intuition, common among teen-age girls, of the compromised power of sex appeal.

Because Jamie and Lynne had two other children to look after, a family friend chaperoned Spears for much of her early career. But Spears remained close to her mother, and, in 2000, she built a four-and-a-half-million-dollar estate for Lynne in Kentwood. That year, according to “Through the Storm,” a memoir that Lynne published in 2008, Spears urged her mother to divorce her father, knowing that “years and years of verbal abuse, abandonment, erratic behavior, and his simply not being there for me had taken their toll,” Lynne writes. She and Jamie divorced in May, 2002, and Spears told People that it was “the best thing that’s ever happened to my family.”

Spears had just broken up with Justin Timberlake, a fellow teen-pop icon, whom she had met when she was eleven, when they were both cast as Mouseketeers. The breakup destabilized her, people close to her remember; her status as half of a golden couple had become an integral part of her identity, and after the split her sex life became a regular topic in the news. She began going out more and hanging out with Lindsay Lohan and Paris Hilton, forming a holy trinity for tabloid culture at its early-two-thousands peak. “The paparazzi were out of control,” Hilton recalled, of one night with Spears at the Beverly Hills Hotel. “Fighting over getting the shot, pushing each other against my car, scratching it with their cameras. It was overwhelming and frightening.” The hairdresser Kim Vo, Spears’s longtime colorist, remembers how, one day, as Spears was getting her hair done, a paparazzo scaled a wall and broke a salon window with his fist.

Spears distracted herself with work—a relentless grind of dance rehearsals, studio sessions, photo shoots, stadium performances, long nights on the tour bus, and hotel check-ins before dawn. “The schedule was crazier and crazier,” Julianne Kaye, a makeup artist who worked with Spears in the early years, said. “She would have little breakdowns. She was always crying, saying, ‘I want to be normal.’ ” Spears blew off steam by partying: she smoked weed, used cocaine, took Molly with her dancers and jumped into the Mediterranean Sea. But the machinery around her only grew. When she toured, the crew took at least a dozen buses and filled entire hotel floors.

In the spring of 2004, Spears met a dancer named Kevin Federline at a night club, and they were married within six months. Spears initially did not secure a prenuptial agreement, which prompted panic in her family. A considerable fortune was at stake. “Lynne lost her mind,” Butcher, the family friend, recalled. “They weren’t gonna allow the wedding to be made legal.” The marriage contract wasn’t signed until the month after the ceremony, when Federline legally agreed to limit his stake in Spears’s estate. But Spears seemed thrilled, and commissioned a photo shoot in which she dressed up as a French maid and served drinks to Federline, who wore a trucker hat, cargo shorts, and flip-flops. Spears wanted a family. “I’ve had a career since I was 16, have traveled around the world & back and even kissed Madonna!” she wrote on her Web site, two months after getting married. “The only thing I haven’t done so far is experience the closest thing to God and that’s having a baby. I can’t wait!”

Spears’s first son, Sean Preston, was born ten months after the wedding. “Our life was running at 150,000 miles an hour,” Federline later told Us Weekly. “I’d walk into a club and get a table worth $15,000 a night with unlimited free drinking. . . . But everything got so crazy.” Spears had been so sheltered that Paris Hilton had to show her how to use Google, according to a person who was there. She negotiated the hormonal and logistical turbulence of early motherhood while paparazzi, eager to monetize her mistakes, chased her down, pointing flashbulbs and shouting provocations any time she left the house. After she was photographed driving with an infant Preston on her lap, she explained that she had been trying to get away from paparazzi—and besides, she added, she had grown up riding on her dad’s lap on country roads. A few months later, visibly pregnant and holding Preston, she stumbled while surrounded by photographers; the paparazzi kept shooting as she retreated to a café, cradled her baby, and cried.

Spears had her second child, Jayden James, in September, 2006. Three weeks later, Federline took a private jet to Vegas to party with his friends. Spears filed for divorce in November, reportedly notifying Federline by text message. At a night club, he scrawled on a bathroom wall “Today I’m a free man—f**k a wife, give me my kids bitch!” He requested full custody. While the divorce was being adjudicated, he and Spears divided parental duties. Preston was a little more than a year old, and Spears was still nursing Jayden; she wanted to be with them all the time, and hated being at home without them. “I did not know what to do with myself,” she said later, in an MTV documentary. Spears and Federline both went out on their free nights, but Spears was the one who became the target of tabloid blood sport. (“MOMMY’S CRYING,” Us Weekly blared, over a full-page photo of Preston.) In February, 2007, she shaved off her hair, at a salon in Tarzana; five days later, she attacked a paparazzo’s car with an umbrella. The two incidents cemented her image as “crazy.” Both were precipitated by her driving to Federline’s house, trailed by photographers, and being refused access to her kids.

Many people who were close to Spears during her early career suspect that she was dealing with postpartum depression, but none of them remembers anyone bringing it up with her. Some of the same people said that Spears was also struggling with drugs and alcohol. Her mother and Federline insisted that, if Spears wanted to spend more time with her children, she needed to go to rehab. In early 2007, she checked into a treatment center in Antigua, then checked out after just one day. The judge in the custody hearing, who had cited Spears’s “habitual, frequent uses of controlled substances and alcohol,” gave primary custody of the children to Federline, granting Spears four days of visitation per week, under the eye of a court-ordered monitor named Robin Johnson.

Around this time, Spears met Sam Lutfi, a Hollywood operator with a knack for insinuating himself into the lives of turbulent female stars. Spears had recently parted ways with Larry Rudolph, her longtime manager, and she began to entrust her professional and private affairs to Lutfi. Now forty-six, Lutfi cuts a nondescript figure: average height, occasionally goateed, favoring baseball caps and black T-shirts. Over coffee at a Los Angeles restaurant this spring, he said that Spears took to him in part because he told her that she didn’t have to work nearly as hard as she was. “She’d always believed there were massive consequences if she didn’t work, that she’d lose so much, and it blew her mind that she could just call the shots,” he said. “You want to cancel that meeting? Cancel it. You’re gonna lose five grand? Lose it. She’d walk into a car dealership, say she wanted something. I’d say, ‘Buy it.’ Her parents would say, ‘Why would you let her do that?’ But it’s an eighty-thousand-dollar car, not a yacht, and she just got fifteen million from Estée Lauder. Anyway, she’s an adult. I’m not gonna tell her that she can’t buy a fucking yacht.” (Lutfi later assumed a similar role in the life of Courtney Love, who called him a “street hustler,” and he said that he advised Amanda Bynes’s family as they placed her in a conservatorship. He is currently subject to a five-year restraining order filed against him, in 2019, by a conservatorship lawyer, on Spears’s behalf.)

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[ssfoc]

Hi :) I know everyone's going on about Kiwi being about babygate, but I really think it might be about the music industry in general, using stunts as an inspiration. If you consider the female in the song being the industry it makes sense because it appears in a way tempting and desireable (but in the end it's really not as great as it seems), but he is also being pushed and has no control (and will in a way regret getting involved with it). I love your blog and I hope you'll consider the idea!

Hi!

Thank you for your kind words.

Your point about the music industry is a really good one. I think “Kiwi” is, in a way, about the unsavory aspects of the industry.

“MMITH” expresses the ambivalence of being caught in between– wanting to advance, but knowing there are consequences. It can be interpreted as an addiction of sorts (with mentions of morphine).

“Kiwi” offers another take on this addiction. The metaphor is an addiction to the sort of girl/ love that everyone likes.

The cigarettes, the intellect, the hard liquor, the marks of a glamorous rock ‘n roll life– the groupies, the available sex, the available drugs (so much cocaine, it can constantly fill up the Holland Tunnel!)– they all seem like irresistible lures. All the boys (the musicians) are drawn to it. These are the goodies associated with a rocker’s life, and glamorized by journalists like Cameron Crowe.

But the beautiful girl is an illusion. The music industry is a façade, like a beautiful girl who goes home to a cactus– a plant that requires no maintenance. It’s a plant for lonely people who want companionship without the work. It’s an empty life.

The girl is an actress, someone whose warmth is completely fake.

She’s like the music industry executives, managers, PR machine who talk about taking care of musicians, but really just want their baby– their music, their revenue.

“I’m having your baby, it’s none of your business.”

The music executives seduce the musicians and take their babies. They behave like prostitutes. But instead of a straightforward sex transaction, where a customer pays for sex, and the sex-worker gets money, in this case, the executives just want the product. They want the music and the revenue. They don’t care how they get it.

“It’s none of your business.”

Once the baby is conceived, the industry takes care of business, the financial aspects. It’s out of the musicians’ hands.

The ironic, bitter reference to babygate isn’t so different from this interpretation, really.

Stunts are a way for the industry boosts revenue, through PR.

Fans are interested in stunts. Stunts fan the fandom flame. Stunts keep the fandom alive when there’s no music. Stunts stir emotions.

This isn’t limited to the 1D fandom. Almost every celebrity pairing can represent a stunt, always tied to selling something– an album, a movie, a project.

Fake relationships are par for the course. We’ve seen many of them. In fact, reviewers and interviewers can’t stop referring to Taylor Swift. Stunts have legs (pun intended). A two-month stunt can create news for years. Pathetic, right? But there’s money in it.

Can stunts go too far? Fake babies, for instance?

“I’m having your baby.”

Do these words refer to a real-life situation?

The words are so specific, and so connected to the One Direction fandom, that I don’t see how they can represent an innocent metaphor. Every reviewer states that these are strange words.

But they’re not RANDOMLY strange. They’re pointedly, knowingly, bitterly, coyly strange.

The words are savage, and sung in a savage way.

The words sound like a threat and a boast.

I’m having your baby. What are you going to do about it? Nothing, because it’s out of your hands. You signed on the dotted line. You’re going to pay and pay, and there’s not a damn thing you can do.

I don’t think Harry is making fun of Louis’s situation, at all. I think he’s FURIOUS. Louis is suffering unimaginably, and Harry sees it. He suffers too. It’s a call-out to the people who put them in this situation.

Who pushed the Babygate narrative hardest? Who was earliest with the news?

Answer: the media associated with 1DHQ.

Who in the celebrity gossip media most associated with 1DHQ?

Dan Wooton.

Where is he from?

New Zealand. He’s a Kiwi.

Addendum 28 November 2020: take this interpretation with a grain of salt. Maybe it’s a song about Babygate, maybe not.

Harry is definitely shading someone in Kiwi. Now that I look back with a less delusional eye, could he have been shading Louis? Possibly.

Does Harry refer to cocaine in this song? Undoubtedly.

[spiceukonline]

XXXTentacion’s ‘17’ is a Declaration of War on Conformity

XXXTentacion’s ‘17’ is a Declaration of War on Conformity

Originality

Production

Tracks

Lyrics

Overal Impact

2017-09-06

4.8/FIVE

XXXTentacion is a multi-faceted artist. All at once, he manages to be a provocateur yet also a talented maverick, a profound poet whilst brash and brutish; X is a 19-year-old troubled soul but he is also an unexpected beacon of light. Controversy sticks to him like glue and in all honesty, he courts the infamy. Yet 17 is different, it is not the same mischievous fun as that which inhabits his hit ‘Look at Me’ that guides this album. No, 17 according to ‘The Explanation’, the album intro, is designed to “cure or at least, numb your depression.” This 11-track composition is an entirely new creation of X’s and touches on various elements of vulnerability, anger, depression and unlikely as it may seem, hope. And it is that which distinguishes 17 as an album and by extension, XXXTentacion from the SoundCloud generation of rappers he emerged from.  His authenticity is unquestioned.

From his abundance of Soundcloud tracks to his EP Revenge and now 17, X uses experimentation to highlight his uniqueness as an artist. The album length is far from the norm, only 21 minutes long in total. The harsher stereotypical trap beats of his contemporaries, Kodak Black, Lil Pump, Playboi Carti and Ski Mask The Slump God are present on one song. But even so, F**k Love (Feat.Trippie Redd) is far from the usual capitalistic adoration of money or having sex with various women or even drugs, none of said staples of trap music even appear on the track. Instead, this is a love song of sorts with an alternative rock tone, ‘Please bae, don’t go switchin’ sides, switchin’ sides’ is Trippie Redd’s contribution with X following with “Lost it, riots, Gunfire inside my head.” With the whirlwind of a rough bringing and now allegations against XXXTentacion of domestic abuse, violence, and robbery, though all would vehemently condemn this behaviour, this song does provide some insight into the trauma such an experience creates.

17 Album Cover

The album cover is much like the music within, a clutter of various sheets of paper defined with a black and bold scrawl of writing. Symbolising the whole aura of the project is the quote ‘There is no end to the pain. You must be numb,’ capitalised while polaroids of X trapped in his own embrace adorn the cover. There exists a lonely respite from the melancholy, ‘You are not alone’ written in the corner.

Listening to the first song immediately engulfs the listener within the centrality of death and depression in XXXTentacion’s experience. Jocelyn Flores, arguably the best song on the album, is an ode to a friend of X’s, who committed suicide earlier this year whilst visiting him in Florida. A sample of Shiloh Dynasty’s ‘I Knew You So Well’ is the intro and bridge to the track and has an almost haunting element when X adds his own voice to faintly sing ‘I know you’re somewhere, somewhere…’ Suddenly and with visceral lyricism, the tempo switches and we hear the angry side of pain; ‘picture this, in bed, get a phone call, girl that you f**ked with killed herself, that was this summer and nobody helped, and ever since then, man, I hate myself,’ The storytelling on this song, like the rest of the album is impeccable, I do wish it was long enough to fully immerse oneself in.

Everybody Dies in Their Nightmares is not a rap song, at least I cannot envision this in the same category that so dominates our charts. X is a non-conformist, existing partially in a space where I can see hints of Isaiah Rashad’s fusion of rapping, singing and unorthodox beats, with Lil Uzi Vert’s alternative rock sort of sound. But completely different. The simplicity and contrasting mellow Shiloh Dynasty vocals with his fast-paced chorus lyrics, ‘Tired of feelin’ like my life is a damn game, Nigga really wanna die in the night time’ was a fascinating move. However, one line defined the experience of the song, ‘Only time I’m in my mind, when I’m all alone.’ Depression can feel like the most unimaginable isolation and this song forces one to look inwards and to explore our own mental state.

‘I’ve dug two graves for us my dear,’ is the introductory line to Revenge, the Confucian inspired 4th track on the album. Legend has it, Confucius, an ancient oriental philosopher stated that ‘before embarking on a journey of revenge, dig two graves.’ The implication being that both parties are killed in the act of revenge, one losing their life and the other, their soul. This tune is a unique take on a classic rock style with a plausibly country influence, with the acoustic guitar and simple beats. It has a skeletal feel as a song and yet for this reason can communicate a different message to the rest of the album. Not quite hope, but a self-satirical tone plays a part, ‘oh man, what a world the things I hear, If I act on my revenge oh would I?’ X definitely knows what’s up in the world and as he searches his, likely busy, social media he plays with those thoughts of casting reason to the birds.

XXXTentacion At a Concert

Shiloh Dynasty vocals with XXXTentacion’s blunt but accessible flow create a harmony on their shared tracks. Carry On is the 9th track, an anti-love song that seethes with anguish, despair and hate and yet delivered a message of existence against all odds. His feelings for his former girlfriend, whom it is alleged he strangled while pregnant, are blurred with ‘Bitch, I’m hoping you f**king rest in peace… I f**king hate that I love you still.’ The oxymoronic position of vulgarity with love is not lost on anyone and yet it is the repeated last lyric that provides the clarity in this fog of emotion. ‘Got no choice but to carry on,’ Life is inevitably a battle, moreso for some than others, but surrendering to the forces around you should never be the answer.

All in all, an unorthodox, unusual and a complete break with the concept of the conventional rap album. XXXTentacion is still young and reckless, but his talent and versatility have an incredible potential and despite the despair he has in his heart, I cannot wait to witness him carry on revolutionising the music world.

[talhaghafoor2019-blog]

Best Music Videos of the 21st Century: Billboard Critics Pick 100

At the dawn of the 21st century, the music video was in a boom period: The TRL era was still at its zenith, CDs were flying out of the stores, budgets for music videos were still regularly in the seven-digit range, and MTV was the place you turned to in order to see the latest clips from pop's best and brightest.

Flash forward to 2018, and none of those things are true anymore. Album sales have been depleted by the rise of downloading and then streaming, MTV has been supplanted by the Internet as the video's primary home, and attempts to reboot TRL only prove how different times are now than when Backstreet and Britney ruled the world. But with all that's changed, the music video still reigns paramount in the pop world, as a conversation-starter, as a starmaker, as a cementer of legacy. Though the ways we consume music videos in 2018 would've been almost unthinkable at century's start, the impact they have on our lives and pop culture remains relatively similar. 

But of course, it's been an interesting ride for the music video to get to this point: From the tail end of MTV's peak to the introduction of YouTube and the minting of the viral star to the rise of social media and the countless different forms the video can now take in 2018. This week, Billboard is reflecting on the evolution of the music video with a week's worth of content about the form's past, present and future -- starting, today, with a list of our staff picks for the 100 greatest music videos of the century so far, essentially telling the story of the form during its middle-age period, and a potential crisis ultimately averted. 

See our staff favorites below, with a YouTube playlist of all available clips at the bottom, and get lost in the recent greatest hits of an artform that continues to be among popular culture's most vital.

100. Fall Out Boy, "Sugar We're Goin Down" (dir. Matt Lenski, 2005)

From Under the Cork Tree’s lead single was much of the world’s introduction to these former hardcore punks from the Chicago burbs, and for their first video with a big ol’ Island Records budget, they indulged their mission statement: a full-on underdog’s folk tale. Our small town teenaged protagonist is a sort of Napoleon Dynamite with -- get this! -- deer-like antlers, an effective stand-in for just about any condition that could have left a young Fall Out Boy feeling socially alienated. His love interest’s shotgun-wielding father doesn’t approve, but in the end, let’s just say he’s behooved to sympathize. -- CHRIS PAYNE

The video for Shakira’s first English-language hit is not her most seen; those honor belong to the Maluma-featuring “Chantaje" and World Cup anthem “Waka Waka (This Time for Africa)," both with around two billion YouTube views. But “Whenever, Wherever” was the video that introduced Shakira’s swiveling hips to the world, as well as her “small and humble” breasts. The minimalist production, which memorably featured Shakira dancing alone without props, musicians or other dancers, was enough to catapult her to international stardom. -- LEILA COBO

Ana Matronic, Jake Shears, and the rest of the crew served up a brilliant DIY instructional dance video for their unlikely viral hit, which became their third No. 1 hit on the U.S. Dance Club Songs chart in 2012. The smartly staged and creatively choreographed one-take clip is as unpolished, campy, and full of energy as the Scissors themselves. -- PATRICK CROWLEY

The room full of glasses of water gently quaking to the bass drum heartbeat of "Rolling in the Deep," like Jurassic Park to the tenth power, was appropriately foreboding for what Adele's 21 ended up being, a commercial behemoth the likes of which was supposed to have long gone extinct. It all starts here: Director Sam Brown capturing the once-in-a-generation vocalist at simultaneously her most vulnerable and her most powerful, unclear if the wreckage surrounding her is representative of her internal turmoil, or a direct result of it. -- ANDREW UNTERBERGER​

96. Frank Ocean, "Pyramids" (dir. Nabil Elderkin, 2012)

Opening with color bars, liquor shots, and gun blasts, this Nabil-directed 8-minute odyssey follows a zonked-out Frank Ocean as he zips across the desert on a motorcycle, giggles his way through a strip club, and runs into John Mayer in the middle of nowhere for a woozy, bluesy guitar solo. Landing somewhere between Lost Highway and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, "Pyramids" is a dusty, neon-drenched vision quest that's hard to shake. – JOE LYNCH

Music videos can sometimes feel unimaginative when they simply translate a song’s lyrics into a four-minute clip, but for the Avalanches’ “Frontier Psychiatrist,” the literal approach also happened to be the wildest one. The Australian electronic group’s mishmash of vocal samples is acted out as theater, with dueling therapists, chattering dentures, an old guy with a turtle body, and a ghost chorus comprising a visual representation both surreal and enduring. -- JASON LIPSHUTZ

94. Ariana Grande feat. Zedd, "Break Free" (dir. Chris Marrs Piliero, 2014)

“Brace yourself for something so fantastically fantastical that you’ll soil yourself from intergalactic excitement" reads part of the tongue-in-cheek Star Wars-style scroll that introduces Ariana Grande’s video for “Break Free." The stakes in this outer space-based video are as high as Grande’s ponytail, as she uses her blaster to shoot down guards and free prisoners. But wait! Ari herself has been taken captive! Will she... break free?! Yes, and then she will board a spaceship where Zedd is both captain and DJ. Phew. -- CHRISTINE WERTHMAN

The video for Aaliyah’s sinuous “Rock the Boat” might have easily gone down as just one of the many examples of the beloved singer’s preternatural cool and low-key sex appeal, featuring Aaliyah leading an all-female ensemble in understatedly sexy moves mirroring the song’s hypnotic, undulating melody. But it’s impossible to watch without feeling a deep pang of sadness: Directly after filming this video, Aaliyah and eight others were killed in a plane crash over the Bahamas. “Rock the Boat” begins with an in memoriam of sorts, and as the video starts, Aaliyah walks on a deserted beach beneath a sky so beatifically sunlit, it could very well be heaven. The video ends with a gorgeous shot of her swimming alone, trailed by billowy silk, toward a surface that seems contiguous with the clouds. In between, we’re reminded of an artist who was an effortlessly entrancing dancer and singer, a happy young woman with so much ahead of her -- before she floats off to somewhere else. -- REBECCA MILZOFF

92. Girls' Generation, "Gee" (dir. Cho Soo-hyun,  2009)

One of the biggest K-pop hits ever, Girls’ Generation’s saccharine electro-pop anthem “Gee” was key to making the nonet one of South Korea’s biggest pop acts, largely thanks to its video’s living mannequins, viral “crab” dance, and  brightly hued outfits. The success of it led to the group releasing further videos that rank among K-pop’s all-time most recognizable, including “Genie” and “I Got A Boy,” but nothing will ever replace this 2009 music video for its critical spot in the genre's history. -- TAMAR HERMAN

It would have been understandably tempting to make a video that interpreted the song as literally as songwriter Lori McKenna intended: As a message to her children. But instead, the clip -- with assistance from OWN’s series Belief (thanks, Oprah!) and McGraw’s understated delivery -- turns the tune into a grander prayer that celebrates our universal humanity and diversity through scenes of people from all ethnicities and religions. -- MELINDA NEWMAN

90. Marina & The DIamonds, "How to Be a Heartbreaker" (dir. Marc & Ish, 2012)

Six years ago, Marina Diamandis gave us a video with six showering Calvin Klein models juxtaposed with a clothed woman, gloriously flipping what is unfortunately still the modern standard. (Each guy is wearing a Speedo, mind you.) As she sings about her guide to breaking you-know-whats, Marina alternates between cozying up to different gentlemen, dancing in the shower, and presenting a severed, bloodied mannequin head on a platter to the camera. It’s hard to know who you’re supposed to be drooling over in this visual -- Marina, or the male models? -- and that’s the whole point. -- GAB GINSBERG

Mitski’s songwriting is often spiked with a dark, sharp sense of humor. The visual for her shrugging, contemplative Puberty 2 single “Your Best American Girl,” directed by longtime collaborator Zia Anger, brings that wit to the forefront, trapping the Japanese-American artist in a love triangle with an all-too-familiar cute white hipster and his Coachella-ready girlfriend as the song’s lyrics muse on cultural clashes and ethnic identity. It’s hard not to roll your eyes as the couple cuddles naked under an American flag (seriously, guys?), leaving our heroine to make out with her own hand like a lovesick middle-schooler, channeling rage into electric guitar. Not too much subtlety here, but the video’s almost uncomfortably on-the-nose references are exactly what make it so brilliant, with just the right dose of funny. -- TATIANA CIRISANO

Kanye West would be the first to tell you he’s more than just an artist -- he’s an innovator, on the same intellectual playing field as Walt Disney and Steve Jobs. And when it comes to visual manifestations of or companion pieces to his music, well, he’s not always totally wrong. The video for “Flashing Lights” isn’t as dazzling or frenzied as videos for hits like “Gold Digger” and “All of the Lights,” but the tension between the thump of the song and the slow-mo, one-shot portrait of a beautiful woman committing heinous acts of violence makes the clip as unsettlingly hypnotic as the trance-like intonation of its chorus. -- STEVEN J. HOROWITZ

87. David Bowie, "Lazarus" (dir. Johan Renck, 2016)

Shortly after David Bowie succumbed to liver cancer on Jan. 10, 2016, his longtime producer and friend Tony Visconti wrote in a Facebook tribute, “His death was not different from his life – a work of Art.”  He most certainly was referring to “Blackstar” and “Lazarus,” the haunting and bleak final two music videos that the legend left behind. Both are rich with references to Bowie canon -- Major Tom, Station to Station -- and optimally should be seen in tandem. But “Lazarus” delivers the bigger gut punch because it is Bowie’s acknowledgement that he is not long for this earth, a video cut with scenes of the gaunt artist writhing on what could be his deathbed, his head wrapped in a bandage with buttons for eyes. Watch the video, then venturedown the rabbit hole of Bowie-ologists deconstructing the video’s meaning: The Starman may have left the building, but he did so in a way that insures his artistic immortality. -- FRANK DIGIACOMO

"Lazy Sunday" has the distinction of being the only video on this list to originate from television -- the historic first official Digital Short on SNL, preceding future classics like "I'm On A Boat" and "Dick in a Box," and setting the template for the first wave of YouTube viral videos. "Lazy Sunday" lives on in infamy because of the sheer ridiculousness of their investment in the song's mundanity: Andy Samberg and Chris Parnell rap about going to see The Chronicles of Narnia, but not before "macking on some cupcakes" from Magnolia Bakery and shouting out answers to movie theater Matthew Perry trivia. Part of the video's allure is its low-production quality -- it looks like it was shot by high schoolers in an afternoon -- going to show that you don't need a million-dollar budget to make a classic music video. Perhaps all you need is a camcorder and smartly dumb lyrics. -- XANDER ZELLNER

Grimes made all our cyberpunk dreams come true with the “Kill v. Maim” video. The singer previously explained that the song’s inspiration was for a fictional movie that was “a mixture of Godfather and Twilight,” but the video itself transports the viewer into a wild post-apocalyptic world: Imagine if Final Fantasy took place in the Mad Max universe... but was also shot in Harajuku in the ‘90s. And what better way to end this giddy mix of cult-film homages than with an ode to Blade’s bloody rave scene? -- BIANCA GRACIE

It's as vivid a straightforward rendering of song narrative as 21st-century music video has produced, with Alicia Keys and fictional love interest Mos Def acting out Keys' Songs in A Minor melodrama as a brilliant blur of fantasy and reality. Director Chris Robinson's sumptuous New York visuals make the theatrics pop with both pleasing familiarity and near-uncomfortable intimacy, lifting you into Keys' daydream -- right up to the crushing ending, when it turns out that Mos never will know just how different she looks outside of her work clothes. -- A.U.

Residente -- and prior to him, Calle 13 -- has long been known for his gritty, graphic, often violent video material. But his softer, romantic side is even more compelling, and the second video from his 2017 self-titled solo outing is drenched in love, the kind that sends shivers down your spine. Filmed in Paris' iconic Crémerie-Restaurant Polidor bistro and starring Charlotte Le Bon and Edgar Ramirez, "Descencuentro" (directed by Residente himself) is a mini-film about a man and a woman whose inevitable encounter inside the restaurant is delayed by a string of happenstance that goes from accidental to comical. “I wanted to stay away from clichés, but stay close to hope, to what motivates you to keep on trying in the midst of so many setbacks,” Residente told Billboard. The end result is breathtakingly (and unexpectedly) lovely. -- L.C.

If a music video can leave you with one indelible image, it’s done good work. The video for “Papi Pacify" is one of the most erotic clips in recent memory, opening with a silent shot of a tall, brawny man with one hand around twigs' throat and the other curling at her mouth. “It’s meant to ask questions of the viewer,” co-director Tom Beard told The Guardian. “Who’s got the control in this relationship? Who’s got the power?” There’s no unbraiding the sexual charge from the discomfort, just as there’s no forgetting the shot at 2:23, when twigs holds your gaze as the man takes his fingers from her mouth and pulls her into his chest as she continues to stare, looking nothing if not serene. -- ROSS SCARANO

81. A$AP Rocky, "Peso" (dir. Abteen Bagheri, 2010)

The low-budget street video, shot in the artist’s neighborhood, is a hip-hop staple, and one of the best 21st century entries in the genre drops you in Harlem for an annunciation. Is there a more invigorating entrance in contemporary rap than Rocky busting through a sticker-covered bodega door wearing a black baseball cap that reads FUNERAL, while rapping, “I be that pretty motherfucker”? The money spent shows up in the form of Rick Owens, Raf Simons and Supreme, but the swag is priceless. -- R.S.

80. Miley Cyrus, "We Can't Stop" (dir. Diane Martel, 2013)

There’s tiptoeing into a new era, and then there’s diving in headfirst: Following her underperforming Can’t Be Tamed album, Miley Cyrus chose the latter in 2013, reinventing herself in the first video from the Bangerz campaign and boldly kickstarting her adult career. The “We Can’t Stop” video features a house party full of debauchery and twerking, but for all of the hip-hop excess Cyrus was clearly cribbing from, Diane Martel's clip also provides several uniquely off-kilter set pieces, from the giant-teddy-bear-backpack dance sequence to the game of kick-the-french-fry-skull. -- J. Lipshutz

79. Madonna, "Hung Up" (dir. Johan Renck, 2006)

Faced with relationship trouble, a pop queen doesn’t cry it out -- she dances it out. Madonna’s ‘80s-infused video for the ABBA-borrowing Confessions On A Dance Floor smash “Hung Up” turns the star’s sweaty, solo aerobics workout into a therapy session where all you need to squelch anxiety is a pink leotard and a boombox. The visual only gets better as it expands to scenes resembling a Los Angeles street corner, a subway car, and a Chinese restaurant, where crowds of all ages, races, and ethnicities erupt into fiery dance battles of their own. Meant as a tribute to John Travolta’s ubiquitous dance roles in film, the whole thing ends (how else?) with Madonna breaking it down on an arcade Dance Dance Revolution machine -- not bad for a star who broke several bones in a horseback-riding accident just weeks before shooting. -- T.C.

These days, it might be hard for many viewers to get past the first word of the title when watching the video for Toby Keith's highest-charting, least-resistible Hot 100 hit, especially considering the cameo-strewn close featuring fellow Red-alligned rocker Ted Nugent, among others. But the 2011 clip is such a clever and pure distillation of the forever unpartisan joys of filling your cup, lifting it up and proceeding to parrr-tayyyyyy that it'll make you seethe with nostalgia for a time, perhaps only imagined, when a superior brand of kegger supplies was all you needed to reach across the aisle for. -- A.U.

Behold one of the few instances in which a music video helped launch a relatively unknown act to No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100. Gotye's haunting "Somebody That I Used to Know" visual shows the frontman and duet partner Kimbra naked in front of a blank backdrop, then slowly painted over via stop-motion animation, a living artifact of what used to be a relationship. The design, inspired by an actual work done by Gotye's father, Frank De Backer, took 23 hours and helped the video surpass the 1 billion-views mark on YouTube. -- X.Z.

ANOHNI’s 2016 solo debut Hopelessness combined dazzling experimental pop with the sort of radical social activism most prominent musicians are too timid to approach. For this Hudson Mohawke- and Oneohtrix Point Never-produced song, ANOHNI sings from the perspective of a nine year-old Afghani girl whose family has just been killed by a drone bomb, her despair sending her atop a mountain to demand she be taken next. In the gripping, exquisitely produced video (bankrolled by Apple in a move ANOHNI later regretted), a teary-eyed Naomi Campbell gives a sublime performance, lip-synching and tantalizingly dancing along to the this glistening dirge while a team of dancers contorts around her.  -- C.P.

75. Kendrick Lamar, "i" (dir. Alexandre Moors, 2014)

If this video had come out even two years later, the dance that Kendrick rolls out throughout the visual might have spawned enough challenge/meme copies to send it all the way to the top of the charts, rather than the mere No. 39 it topped out at on the Hot 100. As it stands, the video is a clever nod to both the song's influences -- sampled artist Ronald Isley is in on the party throughout, while George Clinton makes a nonchalant cameo reading a copy of his own autobiography outside a club -- and to the darker forces underlying the song's self-love ethos. -- DAN RYS

74. Dua Lipa, "New Rules" (dir. Henry Scholfield, 2017)

Some new new rules: 1. Launch a thousand Pinterest boards with a beachy pastel color scheme and an enviable hotel slumber party. 2. Take unlikely inspiration from the animal kingdom with head-bobbing choreography meant to evoke the fidgety movements of a pack of flamingos. (No, really!) 3. Embrace the storytelling power of repetition for a dance routine whose third-act twist still delights as much as it did the first time. Follow those steps, and you'll earn admission to YouTube’s billion-views club — and maybe fast-track yourself to a level of international superstardom that half a dozen prior singles couldn’t snag. -- NOLAN FEENEY

73. Janelle Monáe feat. Big Boi, "Tightrope" (dir. Wendy Morgan, 2010)

To those who are just discovering the genius of Janelle Monae with her Dirty Computer rollout: Where have you been? From her futuristic "Many Moons" video to her uncomfortably direct "Cold War" clip, Monáe has consistently delivered on the visuals. "Tightrope" showcases Monae's swagger-for-days as she gyrates through an insane asylum, rocking her early-career androgynous style and delivering some impressive soft-shoe. -- P.C.

72. Sum 41, "Fat Lip" (dir. Marc Klasfeld, 2001)

From its opening beatbox freestyle to its closing tongue wag, "Fat Lip" couldn't have been a better encapsulation of the pop-punk '00s if it had been directed by a sentient Hot Topic bracelet: It's all shaved heads, half-pipes, convenience stores, and four-star frosted tips, as the snottiest bunch of snots that ever snotted perform from a literal pit of dirt. For extra flat-sole kicks, check the hair-metal-homaging "Pain for Pleasure" outro that often played with "Fat Lip" on MTV, proving that adolescent rawk brattiness knows no generation gap. -- A.U.

No music video director works sleight-of-film better than Michel Gondry, the guy who turned a countryside train voyage into Chemical Brothers sheet music or a theatrical Björk drama into a cinematic matryoshka doll. But his greatest cinematic achievement may remain Kylie Minogue's four-lap trek around the streets of Paris, with Kylie and her universe's neighbors somehow layering on top of themselves each time she passes Go. It's a marvel that remains magical 16 years later -- though one that might make you reticent to accept her titular invitation, since it seems like her World barely has room for one of you, let alone four. -- A.U.

70. Ozuna, "Se Preparo" (dir. Nuno Gomes, 2017)

Ozuna is Latin music’s current master of the video universe: The Puerto Rican reggaeton/trap star has so many great videos to his name, it’s hard to settle on a favorite. But “Se Preparo,” with its mix of whimsy and edge, is as fun as the song is compelling. Directed by Venezuelan video master Nuno Gomez, who delights in storytelling, it sets the stage for the wronged girl, who, to forget her boyfriend’s infidelities, preps for a night on the town with the girls. Except it’s actually an elaborate ruse to get even -- one that keeps you watching till the hilarious end. -- L.C.

A theme of Jay's work of late has been taking stereotypes and tropes about the black community and forcing them right in front of his audience's faces. Seldom has that ever been more clear than in the "O.J." video, which lifts its inspiration from a set of racist Looney Tunes cartoons from the '40s, casting himself and others in blackface and hammering home the message of the song's lyrics through the visual. It's among the best examples of this in his catalog. -- D.R.

68. Kesha, "Blow" (dir. Chris Marrs Piliero, 2010)

"She was adamant you can't back away from the crazy" was how director Chris Marrs Piliero summarized the Artist Formerly Known as K-Money's approach to the "Blow" video, which sounds about right: Lasers, unicorns, muenster cheese, no-soap-radio jokes, a pre-meme James Van der Beek, and a whole lot of glitter (natch) combine in the "Blow" video for a visual of singular early-'10s lunacy. That the era's cheekiest director and most game pop star only worked together once remains a bummer, but their sole collab remains a slice of pure lactose gold. -- A.U.

“Blood, Sweat & Tears” is the thesis for BTS as a K-pop group whose work is rich for interpretation. The grab-bag of high-art references makes this music video ripe for fan theories. Cut to a museum filled with European Renaissance replications: Michelangelo’s Pietà explodes! Van Goghian sky swirls abound! V jumps off a balcony in front of a painting of the fallen Icarus! Amid this lavish portrait of BTS at the height of their game, one thing is clear: the septet makes K-pop for the thinking fan. -- CAITLIN KELLEY

66. Ludacris feat. Shawnna, "Stand Up" (dir. Dave Meyers, 2003)

The clip for Luda's first Billboard Hot 100 No. 1 is more bizarre than it has any right to be. A kiss from 'Cris makes a woman's ass expand to cartoonish size, after which Luda puts on a Sideshow Bob-sized sneaker to start stomping the dancefloor and bring the house down (literally). At the end of the video, Luda and Shawnna's faces are superimposed onto baby bodies, and we're treated to Baby Luda dancing Ally McBeal-style, before an unlucky woman changes his soiled diaper. Why? Who knows! But when he moved in 2003, we followed, just like that. -- J. Lynch

65. Red Hot Chili Peppers, "Californication" (dir. Jonathan Dayton & Valerie Faris, 2000)

The Red Hot Chili Peppers' video for "Californication" features the quartet navigating everything from the Hollywood Walk of Fame and movie studios to San Francisco and the Sierra Nevada Mountains -- only as avatars of themselves in an imaginary video game, racking up high scores and eventually meeting at the center of the earth. As fun as the stunning and innovative visuals are, it's the juxtaposition with the song's melancholy lyrics that still lingers well after it's Game Over. -- DENISE WARNER

Most everything seems a whole lot more fun in the crazy-colorful, twisted realm of Missy music videos: Even the gossip-fueled, bully-ridden hallways of high school. Back in a pre-social-media 2002, Elliott heard all the whispers about her recent and somewhat drastic weight loss, her sexual orientation, and more, so she channeled her frustration into an eminently danceable track and classic video. Ludacris and Ms. Jade make stellar guest appearances; Tweet, Eve, and Trina keep score as the coolest clique ever in the cafeteria scenes; even Darryl “DMC” McDaniels shows up for a late cameo as a school bus driver.  But then there’s the real stars of the video -- three little girls with better moves than most grown-ups (including now-pro Alyson Stoner), and a closing image that might be Elliott’s most brilliant touch of all: a mural depicting the late Aaliyah, Lisa “Left Eye” Lopez, and Jam Master Jay, reminding her audience that, just maybe, the industry could focus on more important things than gossip, folks. -- R.M.

63. Ciara, "Promise" (dir. Diane Martel, 2006)

Ciara has spent much of her videography trying to defy gravity — consider the Matrix-style back-bend she first debuted with “Goodies” and later honed in clips like “Gimme Dat” and “Like a Boy.” But with a little movie magic, Ciara actually pulled it off for 2006’s “Promise,” turning a microphone stand into a worthy dance partner through a G-rated pole workout that shook its butt in the face of laws of physics. Ciara’s legacy as an artist is as much about her dancing as it is her music, and “Promise,” with its magic mic and the sheer athleticism of Ciara’s hypnotic hip rolls, is the most entertaining distillation of all her talents. -- N.F.

Dougal Wilson directed this single-shot video in which Natasha Khan takes a late-night bike ride with some of her best pals, a foreboding brood of hoodie-wearing guys in creepy animal masks, a la Donnie Darko’s Frank. According to a 2009 interview, Khan wanted the director to model the video after films like E.T.,The Goonies, The Karate Kid, and even the aforementioned Gyllenhaal cult classic, movies that she dubbed “hoodie movies,” because they featured boys wearing hoodies and riding bikes, “a symbolic reference to breaking out of their suburban trappings and going on this journey of self-discovery." Wilson nails the sentiment, only this journey comes with more sick bike tricks. -- C.W.

A year before labeling herself a savage, Rihanna had already proved she was the baddest gal in town with 2015’s “Bitch Better Have My Money” video. The murderous affair, co-directed by the singer and Megaforce, is a menacing “don't fuck with me” message to her real-life former accountant, portrayed here by Hannibal's Mads Mikkelsen. Rihanna and her badass female sidekicks play the stars of their own revenge fantasy film as they torture his rich white wife, and the final scene is nothing short of chilling, with a blood-soaked Rihanna lighting up a joint while resting in a trunk full of cash. -- B.G.

60. Justice, "D.A.N.C.E." (dir. Jonas & Francois, 2007)

Who knew that the video for a song called “D.A.N.C.E.” could be built around two guys… walking… for the entire video… and still be a huge win? Justice’s Gaspard Augé and Xavier de Rosnay stroll through the duo's most popular clip as their t-shirts morph into mesmerizing pop-art displays, capturing the crossover hit’s effervescence through a series of slogans and cartoons. “D.A.N.C.E.” was nominated for video of the year at the 2007 MTV VMAs, turning Justice into dance headliners (pun intended) years before EDM took over every American festival. -- J. Lipshutz

In one continuous three-and-a-half minute shot, Robyn manages to hold your attention in the music video for "Call Your Girlfriend." The video simply shows Robyn dancing and singing in an empty soundstage, wearing a furry top and looking like her own heart has just been shattered, but it feels impossible to look away. The clip was often parodied and recreated after its release, most notably by former SNL cast member Taran Killam, in which he filmed a near-perfect recreation of the video in the show's writers room at 4:00 a.m. -- X.Z.

58. Christina Aguilera, "Beautiful" (dir. Jonas Åkerlund, 2002)

Christina Aguilera eloquently touches on insecurity in the Jonas Åkerlund-directed “Beautiful," as the dark-lit scenes underscore the decimation that occurs when someone is ostracized for being less than perfect: too fat or skinny, ugly, gay. Alone in a sparsely furnished room, Aguilera zeroes in on songwriter/producer Linda Perry’s affirmation that everyone is beautiful, no matter what people say. “Words can’t bring me down,” she sings as the video’s characters conquer their insecurities: one woman bashes in her mirror, another tosses beauty magazines into a fireplace while a gay couple publicly kiss and hold hands. The video won a GLAAD Media Award for its positive portrayal of gay and transgender individuals. -- GAIL MITCHELL

In the pantheon of music videos capturing some sort of ceremonial celebration, UGK’s “Int’l Players’ Anthem” stands as one of the all-time best. The absurdity of it the clip -- including André 3000 in a kilt, a wedding party that counts Lukas Haas, and some of the best wedding outfits of all time (including Pimp C in head-to-toe white fur) -- is nothing compared to how seamlessly the video captures the ebullience of the accompanying song. -- S.J.H.

56. Beyoncé, "7/11" (dir. Beyoncé, 2014)

As we all know in 2018, The Carters love a production -- but travel back with us to a Friday night in November 2014, when Beyoncé proved that she could go low-budget and still make a high-quality music video. The grainy, iPhone-looking footage of “7/11” features Beyoncé and her dancers goofing off in their underwear in various hotel-room settings. They twerk. They drink from red plastic cups. They turn hair dryers into props. Beyoncé uses someone’s butt as a surface for throwing dice. Quick-cut edits and scene jumps give the video a playful, frenetic energy, while choreography and costume changes make it pro without being overly polished. It’s safe to assume that the peak into this informal world is highly curated, but “7/11” has the intimacy of a selfie: Even though it doesn’t look like anything you've actually ever shot on your phone. -- C.W.

55. Justin Bieber, "Sorry" (dir. Parris Goebel, 2015)

The Bieb brought choreography -- and women -- to the forefront of his "Sorry" visual, with the singer enlisting New Zealand’s all-female troupe ReQuest Dance Crew to bring his upbeat Purpose chart-topper to life. The colorful visual immediately racked up millions of views, with the wildly funky outfits inspiring Halloween costumes (just one week after the vid’s Oct. 22, 2015 release) and the ReQuest girls' impressive moves sparking plenty of twerk-filled tributes across the Internet. Nearly three billion views later, “Sorry” proved that the heartthrob doesn’t even need to make an appearance to make one of his videos special. -- TAYLOR WEATHERBY

54. Iggy Azalea feat. Charli XCX, "Fancy" (dir. Director X, 2014)

For Iggy Azalea’s biggest pop moment, the ‘90s throwback love of the 2010s was in full swing, with the Australian rapper and her hook-slinging co-star traveling back to the set of classic teen comedy Clueless. Iconic scenes -- the classroom debate, the house party, the near-car crash on the freeway --  are reproduced with no-expense-spared flair, the cinematic set design and hordes of in-costume extras vaulting this 2014 good-life anthem straight into 1995 and all its plaid-clad pizzaz. Millennial Mean Girls babies nodding to their era’s spiritual forerunner — it’s game recognizing game in a music video that should similarly endure. -- C.P.

53. Bruno Mars & Cardi B, "Finesse" (Remix) (dir. Bruno Mars & Florent Dechard, 2018)

Everyone loves a good dose of nostalgia, and Bruno Mars served up a giant splatter-painted platter of it with his “Finesse” video. Recruiting Cardi B for a remix of the high-energy 24K Magic track, Mars emphasized the song's punchy ‘90s-style hip-hop beat with an homage to the era’s sketch-comedy classic In Living Color, using smooth moves and neon outfits to create an awesome spitting-image tribute. And the shout-outs were reciprocated: “Finesse” immediately drew praise from show stars Damon, Marlon, and Kim Wayans, and even sparked a reaction out of Jennifer Lopez, who got her start dancing as a Fly Girl on the show. Just as ILC was a cultural moment of the ‘90s, “Finesse” helped Bruno Mars and Cardi B solidify their place as icons of 2018. -- T.W.

A pivotal video in Taylor Swift's pop mythology, "You Belong With Me" saw the burgeoning superstar still playing the underdog, whose cartoonish glasses, school-pride wardrobes, and goofy dance moves made her the idol (and/or go-to Halloween costume) for a generation of unsatisfied overachievers. But don't forget she plays the bad girl in the video, too, and with equal aplomb; listen closely as she marks her territory with the boy next door in her red convertible, and you can hear the snakes from the Reputation Tour hissing impatiently in the distance. -- A.U.

All of Lana Del Rey’s music videos are cinematic -- it’s kind of her thing -- but “National Anthem” has a movie-quality plot to boot. Del Rey stars first as Marilyn Monroe in a reimagined staging of the icon’s 1962 performance of "Happy Birthday, Mr. President," then as Jackie Kennedy alongside A$AP Rocky’s suave, handsy JFK. Through Del Rey’s eyes, we see familial scenes unfold between one of the most fascinating couples in American history, culminating in a re-enactment of the Kennedy assassination. When Del Rey’s castle crumbles, you feel it in your chest, too, and her monologue at the end never fails to bring chills. -- G.G.

50. The Diplomats, "Dipset Anthem" (dir. N/A, 2003)

Twenty-plus Harlemites in their baggy, early-2000s best rocking at canted angles away from the camera, arranged on courtyard steps -- this is a movement. This is what power looks like. This is what’s really good. That image primes you for Juelz Santana’s opening line: Today is a new day. And if you haven’t got the message, the beat shifts midway through the video into the magisterial “I Really Mean It” to drop an immaculate Cam’ron into your living room, stepping out of an Escalade in custom pink Dipset Timbs. Truly, did we dream this? -- R.S.

One of the most memorable and instantly accessible tracks in Snoop's extensive oeuvre got a similarly delectable video to match, shot in black and white on a blinding background with Pharrell supportively in tow as his head-nodding sidekick. The video's sleek and casually surreal aesthetic was as ubiquitous at the time as the song itself, and now 15 years later it remains a blast to re-watch, particularly for its cameos by the similarly-ageless Pusha T, Chad Hugo, and Lauren London, not to mention Snoop's young sons at the time. -- D.R.

Orange Caramel have never been bound by K-pop conventions, and “My Copycat” represents the pinnacle of the trio’s out-of-the-box thinking with its interactive game. The full visual experience requires repeat viewings to scope out all of the Easter eggs hidden in each frame, as the sweeping Where’s Waldo shots turn a simple concept into a grandiose design. So this is what Orange Caramel meant when they sang, “Play games with my heart tonight.” -- C.K.

47. Drake feat. Lil Wayne, "HYFR (Hell Ya Fucking Right)" (dir. Director X, 2012)

More than any of us Jewish kids would have ever dared daydream about during Hebrew School: the biggest rapper in the world documenting his own adult Bar Mitzvah, replete with the requisite torah reading, hora dancing, and ever so many popped bottles of Manischewitz. Did three-and-a-half minutes of Drake and Lil Wayne going HAM -- err, going smoked salmon -- on the former's special day do more to get kids to their local congregations on Saturday morning than every rabbinical sermon this century combined? Impossible to say for sure, but chances are the JTS wouldn't wanna see the box score of that showdown. -- A.U.

46. Christina Aguilera, Lil' Kim, Mya & Pink, "Lady Marmalade" (dir. Paul Hunter, 2001)

This clip from the Moulin Rouge soundtrack was more than a music video; it was a pop culture event. And while several groups of lady titans have recently tried to recreate the magic (see: "Girls" and "Bang Bang," to name a few), none have come close to conjuring up the spectacle that was "Lady Marmalade." With Mya's hyper-feminine feathers, Pink's rocker-chic top hat (a possible nod to Slash?), Kim's blinged-out statement necklace, and Xtina's ginormous, crimped mane, the video let each soul sister showcase their own personality without stealing the attention from the ensemble. -- P.C.

45. Tierra Whack, "Whack World" (dir. Thibaut Duverneix and Mathieu Leger, 2018)

Philly rapper Tierra Whack’s 15-track, 15-minute debut is the perfect example of what a full-length visual can, and more importantly should, do for an audio body of work. She delivered a multi-part video so striking it demands attention be paid to the music, and vice versa. Each colorful and often jarring clip -- one (literal) minute she’s getting a manicure with a brutally busted face, and the next she's kicking back in a pet cemetery --  shows the ingenuity of an artist unfamiliar with boundaries. Let’s hope she never finds them. -- LYNDSEY HAVENS

This 2015 remake of Vives’ original video and recording from 1995 is an achingly beautiful love letter to Vives’ native Colombia, where he enlisted help from multiple fellow Colombian stars -- including Fanny Lu, Fonesca and Maluma, each hailing from a different region in the country -- for a stunning, sweeping trip through his homeland. Meanwhile, the evocative lyrics and melancholy, yet danceable melody, bring to mind memories of Gabriel García Marquez. -- L.C.

43. Johnny Cash, "Hurt" (dir. Mark Romanek, 2003)

Whether you knew that country Jesus was knocking on heaven’s door in 2002 or not, this 2003 Mark Romanek masterpiece hits like a slow-motion mule kick to the gut. With his Mt. Rushmore face ravaged by time and hard living, Cash plucks a black guitar in a baroque living room overstuffed with the junk of life, as a montage of snapshots from his younger, hell raisin' years flash across the screen. The devastating, funereal cover of Nine Inch Nails' '90s hit about decay oozes over the unshakable image of a frail Cash pouring out wine at a Last Supper and quick-cuts of Jesus being nailed to the cross. If this final reckoning doesn’t give you shivers, maybe you’re already dead inside. -- GIL KAUFMAN

Intended as his pre-retirement swan song, JAY-Z’s 2003 opus The Black Album gave fans several striking visuals, from “Change Clothes” to “Dirt Off My Shoulders.” But Hovito’s most visceral clip came when he and director Mark Romanek conjured up the black and white video for “99 Problems.” With "Problems" producer Rick Rubin riding shotgun, Jay masterfully illustrates his volatile relationships with the New York streets, the boys in blue and, ultimately, his own demise, as he is violently gunned down at the end of the video. Though Hov never really “faded to black” and continued to release more albums, the video for “99 Problems” had every rap fan petrified at the sheer thought of losing the culture’s most revered hero. Luckily for us, Superman is still taking out rap villains for a living. -- CARL LAMARRE

“Dude, you wanna crash the mall?” 

--Avril Lavigne, in the first ten seconds of her first music video for her first single

Can you and your skateboarding friends/bandmates who look like a generic-brand Sum 41 (Sum 31?) really “crash” a mall if it’s daytime and already open? The premise is shaky, but whatever: From her first moment on MTV screens, Avril Lavigne established her extraordinary brand of PG-13 coming-of-age tomfoolery with a music video that’s almost too 2002 to function. The ties! The food court! The Jackass-style stunts! Life gets complicated when your friend starts getting all two-faced and trying on NFL jerseys and jewelry store bling, but finally, suburban early-'00s teens had their keeping-it-real heroine. -- C.P.

40. Lady Gaga, "Paparazzi" (dir. Jonas Àkerlund, 2009)

With the music video running double the length of the song, Gaga's Jonas Åkerlund-directed "Paparazzi" covers a lot of ground: Attempted murder by Alexander Skarsgård, the successful murder of Alexander Skarsgård, old movie homages, Mickey Mouse-esque flip-up glasses, and some of the fiercest looks from Stefani's early avant-dance diva days. The image of crutch-bound Gaga staggering across a purple carpet like Evil Robot Maria from Metropolis -- while her dapper backup dancers vogue behind her -- made it clear that unlike most pop stars on the planet, Gaga was here to get weird. And in 2009, we devoured it like the fame-obsessed monsters she was sending up. -- J. Lynch

39. Kanye West feat. Pusha T, "Runaway" (dir. Kanye West, 2010)

More short film than music video, the genius of "Runaway" comes from its stark simplicity, and the meaning seemingly imbued within it. After the solo repetitive piano note that opens the song summons a troupe of black-clad ballet dancers, West begins to deliver each line with an increasing look of urgency and desperation on his face, ultimately climbing on top of the white piano before giving way to Pusha T's verse and the dancers' graceful stoicism. After building the song to its highest intensity with almost Christlike posture, West then cedes the floor to a ballet showcase as the song's coda wrenches to its conclusion, ultimately ending with the rapper placing hand over heart, somber in one of the most quintessential images of his career. -- D.R.

Ah, “Hollaback Girl:” a video that contains multitudes. This is prime Love.Angel.Music.Baby content, which means the Harajuku Girls -- Stefani’s “super kawaii” but disturbingly silent Japanese girl squad -- are front and center, riding through Van Nuys and Reseda in an Impala behind fearless leader Gwen, twerking, and (quietly) helping her spell “bananas.” The minimalist-meets-marching band sound, courtesy of the Neptunes, is in nearly every frame -- along with Pharrell himself, blessing Stefani with a brief cameo and his ineffable brand of cool. But this video, in the end, is really all about Stefani and the charming ball of contradictions she has increasingly revealed herself to be: a magnetic-enough presence to make us consider her motives, and then abandon any semblance of logical thought to scream “This shit is bananas!” at the top of our lungs. -- R.M.

37. Nicki Minaj, "Anaconda" (dir. Colin Tilley, 2014)

The Sir Mix-a-Lot sample "Anaconda" is built around may have been met with a collective eye roll for its obviousness, but Minaj fully redeemed herself by pairing it with her most memorable visual to date. Between a bikini-clad aerobics session and an unforgettable lap dance (one that Minaj bragged left guest-star recipient Drake, ahem, "excited like hell"), the colorful clip solidified Minaj's superstar status, helping "Anaconda" slither to No. 2 on the Billboard Hot 100, still the rapper's highest peak yet. -- P.C.

36. Rihanna feat. JAY-Z, "Umbrella" (dir. Chris Applebaum, 2007)

A waterfall of sparks, umbrella-based choreography and -- best of all -- an iconic silvered silhouette of one of the biggest pop stars both then and now makes the recipe for this timeless video. It’s the perfect blend of sexy, playful, and artistic -- risqué without being raunchy, thematic without being tacky. But the video’s biggest feat of all is proving that, even if only for Rihanna, it is possible to look that good with an umbrella. -- L.H.

Starring a blonde Lauren Holly as the badass Mary Ann, pre-30 Rock Jane Krakowski as the helpless Wanda, and NYPD Blue star Dennis Franz (outfitted in a purposefully terrible wig) as the title villain, "Goodbye Earl" is a delightfully campy and colorful video from the Dixie Chicks about "the best of friends" who poison the titular character after he beats up Wanda. It's a tale that highlights the power of the female bond, without making light of its serious subject matter. Yes, "Earl had to die," but the clip shows us just how sweet revenge can be -- and by video's end, even a zombified Earl has joined in on the hoedown. -- D.W.

Like the song itself, the 2002 music video for “Without Me” is a fragmentation grenade of rapid-fire images designed to level Eminem’s critics -- most of which he plays in the video himself. The rapper uses battery cables to fry a quasi-mechanical Dick Cheney lookalike and flips off his mother Debbie (Em in a blond metal wig, natch) as she appears on a When Sons Go Bad talk show. And Shady Records lieutenant Obie Trice, in a cameo, body slams Em-as-Moby, who called Shady’s music homophobic and misogynistic. But the real thrill of this clip is watching Shady and partner-in-crime Dr. Dre dressed, respectively, as comic-book characters Robin and Blade, head-bouncing with abandon as they rush to save a minor from purchasing a copy of The Eminem Show, which carries a Parental Advisory sticker. -- F.D.

Think of another outfit that’s had such decades-long legs. Everyone who's seen this spacey Nigel Dick-directed mini-space epic -- the follow-up to the equally one-of-a-kind “… Baby One More Time” -- can instantly picture Brit’s second-skin red pleather catsuit (which was her idea, as was the concept of dancing on Mars). The whole experience is a crash course in Britney 101: seductive, if a bit wooden, group dancing; hard-core eye contact with the camera; requisite bare mid-riff squirming; and a silly comedic bit, all of which remain key parts of the star's rust-free brand blueprint to this day. -- G.K.

32. Tyler, the Creator, "Yonkers" (dir. Wolf Haley, 2011)

Tyler, the Creator had a vision: “‘I’m sitting on a chair rapping, I’m playing with a bug, I eat it, I throw it up, my eyes go black, and I hang myself.’ That was his treatment,” explained director Anthony Mandler (Beyoncé’s “Get Me Bodied,” Rihanna’s “Man Down”) in a 2011 interview. Mandler, along with director of photography Luis “Panch” Perez, gave Tyler the guidance and equipment he needed to self-direct the black-and-white, tilt-shifted video for “Yonkers." In the breakout clip, Tyler does exactly what he outlined: He sits in a chair, lets a giant cockroach crawl over his hands, appears to take a bite, pukes, blacks out his eyes, and hangs himself. Effective enough to make stomachs the world over turn -- and earn Tyler one of the all-time least-likely nods for a Video of the Year VMA. -- C.W.

Fittingly, one of the century’s most beloved No. 1 hits arrived with a timeless visual. Carly Rae flips the male gaze of voyeuristic videos past and becomes the behind-the-blinds observer snooping on a backyard hottie, her giddy enthusiasm matching the lyrical tone perfectly. She’s fanning herself from the heat of the shirtless car-washing hunk a little too vigorously, fantasizing herself into the cover of the kitschy romance novel that’s sitting on her coffee table. She eventually musters the courage to make it out of the living room and into the steamy driveway scene, where the iconic “here’s my number” exchange leads to one similarly expectation-subverting final plot twist. -- C.P.

30. Fountains of Wayne, "Stacy's Mom" (dir. Chris Applebaum, 2003)

"We looked at a lot of treatments and some directors were trying to be kind of arty and subtle with it, but Chris Applebaum went completely for the jugular,” Fountains of Wayne guitarist Adam Schlesinger said of the Applebaum-directed “Stacy’s Mom” clip in a 2004 interview. In retrospect, there was no better approach for the surprise pop smash: the broad, brightly colored comedy here -- driven by model Rachel Hunter in the titular role -- accentuates the song’s storytelling while mixing in some fantasy elements and highly appropriate Ric Ocasek references. Special kudos to Shane Habouca as the teen protagonist, so nimbly capturing the weird, confusing wonder that is male puberty. -- J. Lipshutz

29. Luis Fonsi & Daddy Yankee, "Despacito" (dir. Carlos Peréz, 2017)

The most-watched video in YouTube history, directed by Carlos Perez, is an unabashed celebration of all things Latin, from the opening guitars and the vistas of Puerto Rico to the brightly painted homes of La Perla with their religious icons and chickens on the porch. And finally, there’s the dancing. Clichéd? Maybe, but totally real, and so expertly realized, we couldn’t help but watch. Ultimately, 5.3 billion viewers can’t be wrong. -- L.C.

You can ask Kendrick Lamar, and he'll tell you that one of his early inspirations was Missy Elliott. In the late '90s and early 2000s, Elliott bloomed into a music video savant because of her audacious attempts to do the impossible in under five minutes. In '01, Elliott wiped the competition with her Dave Meyers-shot visual for "Get Ur Freak On." The funky track included a starry cast, with appearances by Ludacris, Busta Rhymes, and Eve. Meanwhile, Missy rhymes inside of an underground sewer, glides on top of a chandelier -- and just when you thought the fun was over -- she even sneaks in a quick verse from her Miss E LP highlight "Lick Shots" to restart the party all over again. -- C.L.

27. Charli XCX, "Boys" (dir. Charli XCX & Sarah McColgan, 2017)

If you came for “Boys,” it’s boys you’ll find in this genius self-directed visual by Charli XCX -- approximately 60 of them, in fact, from Diplo bench-pressing puppies and Joe Jonas seductively feasting on pancakes to Charlie Puth hosting a car wash. Did we mention the whole thing is bathed in millennial pink? The idea, Charli told BBC Radio 1, was to reverse traditional music video gender roles, making dudes do “all the sexy things that girls usually do in videos.” Whip-smart, thought-provoking, and fun as hell -- not to mention providing fans with enough GIFs to last a Twitter lifetime -- “Boys” set the Internet into mayhem, and left it with a message. -- T.C.

26. Christina Aguilera feat. Redman, "Dirrty" (dir. David LaChapelle, 2002)

In the world of pop divadom, frequent reinvention isn’t just a choice, it’s practically a rule. But back in 2002, Christina Aguilera, loathful of her prefab pop princess persona, committed to one of the most explosive image resets in history with a red thong, a pair of chaps, and a dance move that would come to be known as “the slut drop.” You can only imagine the kind of language her critics used against her, and, indeed, there was plenty of outrage, vitriol, and mean-spirited mocking flung her way. Still, Aguilera seemed to weather the attention like a pro, and outlets that gave the young singer a chance to explain herself were treated to a brief lesson in sexual agency that was years beyond the general public’s understanding back then: “I may have been the naked-ass girl in the video,” she told Blender in 2003, "but if you at it carefully, I’m also at the forefront. I’m not just some lame chick in a rap video; I’m in the power position.” Guess Bionic wasn’t her only work ahead of its time. -- N.F.

What better way to play up the youthful sensation of a first love than with LEGOs, a classic toy for a classic rock song. The toy of choice works in a surprising way here, as the figurines capture the similarly unclear mindset of a boy so confused by love he believes “the two sides of my brain need to have a meeting.” But, most impressive of all is how the video turns something seemingly so simple into something much more complex -- reportedly, the video was shot frame by frame, requiring the LEGOs to be rebuilt each time -- a situation that anyone who has ever fallen in love is likely all too familiar with. -- L.H.

There’s a long and tired history of Justin Timberlake using Britney Spears as a punch line, and, sure, the concept of of a disgruntled ex breaking into his former girlfriend’s house and lurking menacingly while she showers hasn’t aged well. But the kind of pettiness on display in the captivating “Cry Me a River” is an extinct breed: a revenge fantasy that doesn’t bother with plausible deniability or subtle shady references, and instead lets its darkest impulses curdle in the open for all to see. It wasn’t pretty, but it swung big -- and everyone grabbed the popcorn and gave in to the twisted voyeurism of it all. -- N.F.

A bold, candy-colored cornucopia of delectable delights from start to finish, the 2010 Mathew Cullen-directed clip features Perry -- sometimes covered only in strategically placed cotton candy, other times in a whipped-cream exploding bra, and always in a day-glo wig -- as a pawn in Snoop Dogg’s Queens of Candyfornia board game, though of course she escapes Snoop's clutches to lead a dance party on the beach. The only way the video would be better were if it were actually edible, especially Snoop Dogg’s army of bird-flipping gummy bears. -- M.N.

M.I.A. and director Romain Gavras had already proven that they could make an unforgettable video with 2010’s highly controversial “Born Free" -- and two years later, they did it again with “Bad Girls.” Shot in Morocco, the video depicts Saudi drifting, where cars ride on their sides on only two wheels. Scenes of stunt men and women sitting on the outside of the tilted rides are juxtaposed with shots of M.I.A. and a glam posse of women covered in animal prints and metallic fabrics. Not one to be a bystander, M.I.A. even gets in on the drifting action, as she’s filmed lounging on the passenger door of a white BMW, filing her nails as the car cruises along sideways. How could the duo top that? “The next video needs to be shot on the moon,” Gavras mused in a behind-the-scenes video. “With hookers.”   

This is a boy band video with a complex dramatic setup: We open in a dimly lit vaudeville theater, where the boys of *NSYNC hang from strings, manipulated from above by a diabolical but very pretty lady, who then cuts each of said strings to set one beautifully-coiffed *NSYNC member at a time on his very own mini-action adventure, racing cars through the desert or running across the top of a locomotive, Bond-style. But let’s be honest: That’s not what we’re here for. We’re here to see baby-faced J.T. mean mug for the camera! We’re here to see J.C. torturously belt his “Byyyyye baaaaby!” ad-lib. And above all, we are here to see the dance moves --- the steps that would go on to be repeated at countless school dances and house parties, and that will certainly go down in music video history as some of the most classic choreography ever captured. Even if they were doing it in some sort of intergalactic vacuum, as *NSYNC appear to be in the “Bye Bye Bye” video, it was impossible to look away -- and easy to imagine, as we followed those moves in our living rooms, that we could transcend the screen and live in their magical world, too. -- R.M.

20. OK Go, "Here It Goes Again" (dir. Trish Sie, 2006)

In 2006, long before Kim Kardashian broke the Internet, this Chicago band went viral with what is otherwise known as “the treadmill video,” a self-choreographed DIY affair -- with the help of lead singer Damian Kulash’s sister Trish Sie, who was working as a ballroom dancer at the time. The clip features the band executing a series of (mostly) precision dance moves on six moving treadmills, and if you’ve ever fallen off one of those things, the video is as thrilling as it is entertaining, helping it rack up a reported 900,000 views in a single day. It wasn’t the first ambitious video the group had recorded -- see 2002's “C-C-C-Cinnamon Lips” -- nor would it be the last, as the band would only scale up with subsequent visuals, most recently culminating in 2016's “Upside Down & Inside Out,” shot in a plane that simulated zero gravity. How they’ll top that one remains to be seen, but we'll probably find out soon enough. -- F.D.

19. Miley Cyrus, "Wrecking Ball" (dir. Terry Richardson, 2013)

“Wrecking Ball” was not the lead single for the all-grown-up coming-out party that was Miley Cyrus' Bangerz, but nothing from that era, not even her controversial MTV Video Music Awards performance, forced viewers to recognize Cyrus on her own terms more than this Terry Richardson-directed clip. In it, Cyrus doesn’t push buttons -- she, well, uses a sturdy tool often found at constructions sites to smash them, doing whatever she can to inspire feeling, any feeling, in those watching. There’s the raw play for emotion with the tearful close-ups, which Cyrus has said were meant to evoke Sinead O’Connor’s “Nothing Compares 2 U." And then there’s the more polarizing attention-grabs -- Cyrus licking a sledgehammer, appearing naked atop the title object as it swings around. Cyrus did whatever she could to get a reaction, and she didn’t care what kind she got as long as people were looking. “I think people are going to hate it,” she told Rolling Stone at the time, “and then when we get to the bridge, they’re gonna have a little tear and be like, ‘Fuck you!’ … It’s something that people are not gonna forget.” -- N.F.

18. Sia, "Chandelier" (dir. Sia & Daniel Askill)

Ever the elusive star, Sia opted to sit out the videos for 2014’s 1000 Forms of Fear. It yielded some of the most exhilarating visuals of the time, with a notable assist from then-pre-teen dancer Maddie Ziegler, then known for starring on Lifetime’s Dance Moms. Clad in a white, tight-cropped wig that resembles Sia’s signature coif, Ziegler stepped in for three of the videos from the set, most notably “Chandelier,” a clip with over 1.5 billion YouTube views, which tracks her as she dances through a dilapidated apartment, breathing life into the drab and mundane surroundings around her -- and making a star out of its absent singer. -- S.J.H.

17. My Chemical Romance, "Helena" (dir. Marc Webb, 2005)

It wasn't supposed to rain on set, but of course it did: My Chemical Romance and Marc Webb brought the emo downpour for "Helena," and the elements simply responded in turn. One ofthree brilliant video collaborations between band and director for MCR's starmaking Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge album, "Helena" was both the simplest and the most affecting: Its balletic funeral proceeding made for the best high-concept rock melodarama since Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris were doing feature-film dry runs with Smashing Pumpkins a decade earlier. But for all the elaborate choreography and staging, the most indelible moment remains the curl of lead singer Gerard Way's lower lip as he sings the final tearjerking chorus -- a reminder that the song was inspired by Gerard and bassist brother Mikey's late grandmother, and thus the video held far more weight than just the prop coffin they were carrying. -- A.U.

16. Drake, "Hotline Bling" (dir. Director X, 2014)

The dorky dad moves, the Sean Paul references, the pastel lighting reminiscent of artist James Turrell, the slightly passive-aggressive lyrics, the D.R.A.M. "Cha Cha” controversy, the parodies, the endless memes! There was no way that anyone could escape the pop culture phenomenon that was Drake’s “Hotline Bling” video. Helmed by Director X, the video catches you off guard by beginning with a bunch of Drizzy-approved women working at -- what else -- a call center. As the camera zooms into the water cooler just 20 seconds in, the dancing that sparked a thousand GIFs begins. No matter how hard you try to look away, Drake keeps you lured in with every corny salsa step, cell phone-imitating hand wiggle, and agonized facial expression. Being the cultural mastermind that he is, Drake had to have predicted the video’s outcome. And somehow that makes it all the more brilliant. -- B.G.

15. Kendrick Lamar, "HUMBLE." (dir. Dave Meyers & The Little Homies, 2017)

Kendrick Lamar’s Grammy-winning video for “Humble” is a lesson in irony: While the song is a finger-wagging anthem about modesty, the video itself is overflowing with wealth -- both physical and metaphorical. Opening with Pope Lamar in a vacant church, the video rapidly shifts through scenes of the rapper playfully toying with a money machine, enjoying Grey Poupon, and teeing off atop a car’s roof. But the more memorable parts highlight black-centric symbolism. With Lamar recreating Leonardo da Vinci's The Last Supper with all black men and and a woman fearlessly displaying her stretch marks, the video becomes yet another celebration of the culture in the rapper’s visual armory. -- B.G.

14. Lady Gaga feat. Beyoncé, "Telephone" (dir. Jonas Åkerlund, 2010)

What happens when you pair up two of the most influential female pop stars in recent history for a music video? That would be “Telephone,” the gloriously ridiculous, nine-and-a-half-minute spectacle from director Jonas Åkerlund that involves a women’s prison, Beyoncé (ahem, “Honeybee”) feeding Lady Gaga a pastry, a murder at a diner, a poison sandwich-making tutorial, Quentin Tarantino references aplenty, and a dance sequence that has spawned dozens of YouTube tutorials. If all that’s not enough to make “Telephone” an instant classic, consider that the video is actually a continuation of Gaga’s “Paparazzi” video from the year prior, with the same director -- which ends with Gaga in the can -- and let your mind be blown. Could a third installment be in our future? We can only hope. -- T.C.

13. Taylor Swift, "Blank Space" (dir. Joseph Kahn, 2015)

After years of receiving criticism for writing songs about her exes, Taylor Swift stuck it to the haters with a visual portrayal of just how “insane” she seems to former suitors and critics alike. The result is the singer’s best video to date, as “Blank Space" makes a mockery of the crazy-ex persona while entrancing viewers with imagery that’s both fanciful and harrowing. The video sets up a classic romance with a handsome guy, a breathtaking mansion, stunning gowns, and white horses (plus a cameo from her celebrity cat Olivia Benson), turning the seemingly perfect relationship on its head once infidelity and jealousy strike. Swift’s acting is brilliant as she takes a knife to painted portraits of her beau, chops up his clothes, and sings with mascara streaming down her face — almost making it believable that she’s as crazy as naysayers make her out to be. Whether you think she loves the drama or it loves her, Taylor Swift always makes sure her videos tell a story, and “Blank Space” could be its own damn novel. -- T.W.

12. PSY, "Gangnam Style" (dir. Cho Soo-Hyun, 2012)

It's hard to believe that it's been over half a decade since the satirical dance track "Gangnam Style" took the world by storm to become the first-ever video to be viewed over 1 billion times. With its over-the-top antics aimed at mocking the denizens of Seoul's Gangnam neighborhood, numerous cameos from local comedians and pop stars, and its easy-to-learn equine choreography, PSY’s video became a surprise global sensation that turned all eyes to South Korea’s music industry. Though it’s no longer the world’s most-viewed music video, the legacy of “Gangnam Style” remains. -- T.H.

11. JAY-Z & Kanye West, "Otis" (dir. Spike Jonze, 2011)

What part of 2011's impossibly joyful video for "Otis" feels the least likely in 2018? That it had a world premiere on MTV (like, MTV the cable TV channel) with a rebroadcast on MTV2 a couple hours later? That the most controversial thing about it -- the thing that necessitated a disclaimer at the end -- was that the needless deconstruction of the vehicle used for the clip's joyriding would be seen as financially irresponsible? That the big celebrity cameo comes from a silent Aziz Ansari? That Kanye appears to be having an absolute blast? That Jay and Kanye act like they genuinely love each other? Or is it that there's a gigantic American flag plastered on the wall behind the duo, with no message seemingly attached to it except to ask, "How could you not love a country where we get to do shit like this?" At the time, the point felt like a strong one. -- A.U.

10. Childish Gambino, "This Is America" (dir. Hiro Murai, 2018)

We get the music videos we want, but also sometimes the ones we need. Amid racial strife stirred up by a president who blames “both sides” and endless uniformed violence against minority men and women came actor/rapper Donald Glover’s funky, neck-snapping surprise statement. As Gambino, Glover -- dressed in Confederate Army grey pants and no shirt in a possible nod to Afrofunk godhead/provocateur Fela Kuti -- busts hip-cracking African Gwara Gwara dance moves while shooting a hooded black man and striking a pose straight outta Jim Crow imagery. Yes, it’s a lot. Released as Glover rebooted intergalactic schemer Lando Calrissian in Disney’s Solo, the sight of the Atlanta star grabbing his suddenly global platform and gunning down a church choir with a machine gun (à la the Charleston church massacre) then sprinting away from the Sunken Place tells you everything about the current state of the nation. -- G.K.

9. Fatboy Slim, "Weapon of Choice" (dir. Spike Jonze, 2000)

"Weapon of Choice" predicted the viral video as well as any other clip released in the pre-YouTube era, down to the fact that a lot of the people who remember the video probably couldn't name who its song was by: Undoubtedly, at least half of the clip's Internet traffic comes from "Christopher Walken hotel dancing" searches. "Choice" was a good song but a sensational video, one that brings the aforementioned four-word concept to such improbable three-dimensional life that it remains compulsively watchable even after the 57th time you're seeing the guy who played Max Shreck doing the hands-in-pockets shimmy. The key? Those beginning and closing shots of a silent, still Walken seated in deep contemplation, with only the whirring sounds of hotel maintenance showing signs of life around him, as existentially haunting as anything Beckett ever staged. -- A.U.

8. Beyoncé, "Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It)" (dir. Jake Nava, 2008)

Kanye West nearly committed career suicide when he crashed the MTV VMAs stage in 2010 to interrupt Taylor Swift’s acceptance speech for Best Female Video: “I’ma let you finish,” he infamously commented, “but Beyonce had one of the best videos of all time!” He wasn't wrong, though -- directed by Jake Nava, the stunning, breathless visuals for “Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It)” marked a turning point in Beyoncé’s career: She had proven herself so talented, so enrapturing, that all you really needed to pull off a milestone video was to simply train the camera on her in an empty room and let her handle the rest. The resulting clip is an unstoppable assailing of the senses: Bey, clad in an over-the-shoulder leotard, is joined by two backup dancers, all in heels, hitting a for-experts dance routine and making it look simple. As the background gradient shifts colors and the cameras circle her, she never breaks focus for even a split second, keeping the energy on full throttle. It’s no wonder West put his name and rep on the line for the sake of the video -- Beyoncé earned it. -- S.J.H.

7. Britney Spears, "Toxic" (dir. Joseph Kahn, 2004)

Britney Spears gifted the 21st century with a number of indelible looks, and the "Toxic" video boasts an embarrassment of them: Britney the Mile High Club-bound stewardess whose kiss turns a schlubby passenger into a stunning model; Britney the laser-tripping secret agent with fire engine-red hair; and of course, Britney in the buff, covered in diamonds and writhing around the floor like the Bond Girl to end all Bond Girls. Whether prancing down the aisle of an airplane or poisoning her boyfriend (five years before "Paparazzi") and jumping off a balcony into the night, "Toxic" Britney wiped clean the schoolgirl imagery and set the tone for the next 15 years of her career: Breathtaking, flawlessly executed camp that was closer to drag culture than fashion week. -- J. Lynch

6. Rihanna & Calvin Harris, "We Found Love" (dir. Melina Matsoukas, 2011)

Anyone who wondered if pop stars had lost their ability to excite, to surprise, to unnerve with their music videos had to feel the "We Found Love" clip like a bolt of lightning to the chest. Melina Matsoukas' dizzying visual for Rihanna's career-recalibrating smash Calvin Harris collab was a tale of a toxic relationship starring RiRi and a pouty, peroxide-blond gentleman who looks a lot like oh-take-a-guess, edited like a light-speed four-minute relationship montage that recreates the shock all music videos must've delivered to fans of classic Hollywood back in '81. Like Trainspotting, what makes "We Found Love" really frightening is how palpably electric the highs are, enough to make it plausible that its star would do what it took to feed her addiction initially. But that doesn't mean you don't still breathe a sigh of relief when she decides to choose life at the end instead. -- A.U.

5. OutKast, "Hey Ya!" (dir. Bryan Barber, 2003)

Coming up on the 15th anniversary of its release, “Hey Ya!” remains an infectious slice of pop culture -- as does its video. A twist on the Beatles’ own era-defining appearance on The Ed Sullivan Show in 1964, “Hey Ya!” finds OutKast turning the British Invasion on its ear, complete with black & white footage, a screaming female audience, a black family viewing the momentous TV performance at home, and Ryan Phillippe in the guise of host Sullivan. Speaking of guises, Big Boi acts as the band manager, while André 3000 portrays all eight band members, including background group The Love Haters -- all garbed in eye-catching green finery. During the two-day shoot in Los Angeles, André reportedly performed “Hey Ya!” 23 times. Beyond introducing the phrase “shake it like a Polaroid picture” into the pop lexicon, OutKast also single-handedly revitalized the camera company’s public image. The Bryan Barber-directed video later won a bevy of awards, including video of the year at the 2004 MTV Video Music Awards. -- G.M.

4. Beyoncé, "Formation" (dir. Melina Matsoukas, 2016)

Beyoncé stopped the world for the umpteenth time when she dropped the explosive song and video for “Formation," just a day before performing the anthem at Super Bowl 50. Frequent collaborator Melina Matsoukas may have shot the video in Los Angeles, but every second is deeply rooted in Louisiana and its Creole background -- the ancestral origin of Beyoncé’s mother, Tina Knowles Lawson. The historical references are overwhelming: the Antebellum-style houses, Beyoncé’s Victorian hoop skirts and petticoats, the now-legendary wide-brimmed hat suitable for American Horror Story: Coven, Blue Ivy happily rocking her fluffy afro, the singer being submerged underwater while on top of a police car as a nod to Hurricane Katrina , the inclusion of New Orleans stars Big Freedia and the late Messy Mya. At one point in the video, a young boy is seen dancing in front of a line of gun-clad officers, who respond by putting their hands up. In a time where racial tensions were climbing to new, uncomfortable heights, “Formation” served as an active reminder that black people could not be silenced. To top it all off, the “Formation” video dropped just a few months before the singer’s second Super Bowl halftime performance, which further shoved its socio-political message in the face of America. -- B.G.

3. D'Angelo, "Untitled (How Does It Feel?)" (dir. Paul Hunter, 2000)

Naked as the day he was born, save for a gold chain and bracelet, D’Angelo is the entirety of the simple, single-take video for “Untitled.” The song asks how does it feel. and the video attempts to answer what it looks like, and it does so with such candor that the song and video have become inseparable. You see parts of this man’s body move, tense, and ripple in ways that must’ve been previously only available to his romantic partners. From the vantage of 2018, the self-scrutinizing gloom that it cast on his career, the way it fueled his performance anxiety as fans showed up to the post-video tour dates expecting total access to Adonis each night, feels safely in the rearview. D’Angelo returned in 2014 with Black Messiah and toured successfully after its release, allowing us to once again to just admire the physicality and emotion of one of the greatest sex jams ever made. -- R.S.

2. Missy Elliott, "Work It" (dir. Dave Meyers, 2002)

While most of her contemporaries settled for music videos that made them look tough or sexy, Missy Elliott got strange with hers, and "Work It" is a perfect distillation of her idiosyncratic vision of warped world. From upside-down dance moves on a post-apocalyptic playground to Missy swallowing a Lamborghini whole and donning a dunce cap for the deliciously goofy "why you act dumb?" segment, Elliott pushed imagery into the mainstream that most rappers, rockers, and pop stars wouldn't dare go near in an era before being "weird" or "nerdy" had cultural cache. Sure, someone else might have a Prince parody or a split-second Halle Berry cameo in their clip, but would they also have a U.S. Marine mouthing "give you some-some-some of this Cinnabun" or the lead artist lip-syncing to camera while bees swarm their face? Like its forward-thinking Under Construction parent album, Missy's "Work It" video made it clear that what was normal was boring, and the future belonged to those who weren't afraid to defy expectations, conventions, and even gravity on occasion. -- J. Lynch

1. Lady Gaga, "Bad Romance" (dir. Francis Lawrence, 2009)

By the time she crawled out of your mom’s Volvo roof box to deliver her first rah-rah-rahs, Lady Gaga had already hosted a poolside orgy, transformed the subway into her debaucherous lair, and sought poisonous revenge on Alexander Skarsgård for throwing her off the edge of a castle. Her ideas were big; her budgets were catching up. But the video for “Bad Romance,” the lead single from 2009’s The Fame Monster, went beyond the kind of spectacle that rising superstars like her had the resources to pull off. It offered a glimpse into an entire cinematic world that thrilled and disturbed in equal measure, expanding the possibilities of what a music video could achieve -- and challenging other stars to step their game up at the same time.

“Bad Romance” features some of her most gorgeous music-video looks -- as silly as it seems now in the post-Joanne era, the video was praised by some critics for the “stripped-down” and “normal” makeup on display -- as well as her most unsettling. The white crowned bodysuits look like Max from Where the Wild Things Are hit up a fetish club. The bathtub-bound Gaga with CGI-enlarged eyes beckoned to the uncanny valley. And despite all the glossy, sterile exteriors abound, an element of body horror lurks underneath the surface, from shots that linger over dancers’ exaggerated bony spines to the emaciated Gaga-monster hiding in a cage during the second verse. Pause the video at any moment and you’ll probably find yourself starting at something worth dissecting; even the briefest scenes and cutaways -- Gaga suspended in a cloud of diamonds, Gaga covering her face with razor-blade sunglasses, Gaga stomping around in alienesque Alexander McQueen heels -- could have sustained their own storylines as standalone videos.

Those mini-moments were mostly in service of a bigger story, one in which Gaga gets kidnapped and drugged by models, sold into some kind of sexual slavery via an ominous pack of Russian men, and eventually enacts a fiery revenge plot. Considering how “Bad Romance” cemented the branding and iconography of her “Little Monster” fanbase -- witness the birth of the monster claw! -- it’s a little ironic that Gaga has described the video’s plot as an allegory about the entertainment industry, one that asks viewers to examine their relationship to their idols, what they ask of them, and at what cost they get it.

Of course, Lady Gaga would go on to make more elaborate music videos than “Bad Romance” -- the mini-movie that was “Telephone,” the space opera that was “Born This Way,” each weaving in social commentary in both obvious and subtle ways. But more than providing any one look, dance move, or message, "Bad Romance" was a supernova reminder that there was still so much room to push the art form -- and that no one was more game to lead the charge than the free bitch herself, baby. It’s fitting that the video ends with the singer torching the place and everything in her path, lying among the embers and shooting sparks out of her pyro-bra. With “Bad Romance,” she took the old standard for great music videos and set it aflame, then got to work building a new one. -- N.F.

This content was originally published here.

[joneswilliam72]

Review: Even with generally strong production, Gunna brings nothing new to the Atlanta trap scene

If you’ve paid attention to hip-hop in the last few years, you should at least know of Gunna. But you could listen to every Gunna project and feature twice and still have no idea who he actually is. The Atlanta rapper has found kinship with Young Thug, unsurprising considering how close their voices are to one another. He’s the raisin of rap: unappealing, unexciting, yet somehow still found everywhere.

Gunna is certainly on a lot of peoples’ Rolodexes, featuring on tracks from the likes of both Playboi Carti and Mariah Carey. He might be in such high demand because of how reliable he is, for better or worse (mostly worse). The only impression a Gunna feature leaves is no impression, but he can round out a light guest list and maybe he’s a really cool guy to chill with in the studio? He’s like a pinch hitter who keeps getting called up even though he’s never getting past first base.

Given how underwhelming he is on other peoples’ tracks, it’s no wonder that full-length Gunna projects are exercises in tedium, lifted up only by producers like Metro Boomin and London on da Track or fellow rappers, like on Drip Harder, last year’s collaborative project with Lil Baby. His dull flow blurs the songs together, ensuring you’re ready for things to wrap up well before the halfway point. The reassurance of a producer tag at the beginning of a track is just barely enough to power you through. He's the kind of guy to write a line like “You lil' n—-s copy and paste” and not realize the irony.

Despite its title sounding like just another mixtape to throw on the pile, Drip or Drown 2 is actually Gunna’s full-length album debut. For a bit, it seems like one that can at least earn a soft endorsement. It’s largely on the back of vibrant production from Turbo and (especially) Wheezy, who provide melodic and textural depth to compensate for Gunna’s shortcomings, like on the cinematic ‘Outstanding’ or the blissed-out ‘Richard Millie Plain’. But Gunna at least seems to apply himself a bit more than usual. He smartly chose ‘One Call’ as the lead single, and even if his lyrics are surface level (“It's a nine in the bag that I tote/Workin' hard, we ain't havin' no hope”), he’s able to convey some kind of feeling and tell us more than just about how much sex he gets and how rich he is.

A limited range in lyrical topics isn’t the biggest liability, and it’s something you have to accept as a fan of trap. But Gunna rehashes the same topics as everyone else without any sort of modicum of creative flair. Lines like “I’m drippin' like a sink” and “It get hotter than Hell” come straight from the My First Similes playbook. As bland as they read on paper, they come across even weaker on record. His flow is unaffected and unchanging, and he seems contemptuous about the idea of even making a record. At the beginning of ‘3-Headed Snake,’ it sounds like he’s mumbling in his sleep. The lyrics of ‘Speed It Up’ are so barebones and unimaginative, they’re like a high schooler cranking out an essay during lunch on its due date.

Listening to Gunna, it’s hard to not feel like Ben Wyatt in regards to Li’l Sebastian. There’s so much hype around him, but you’re just left dumbfounded as to why. So many tracks slip through your consciousness, particularly with how much he sticks to the formula of chorus/verse/chorus/verse/chorus. His dullness sucks the life out of typically energetic guests like Playboi Carti, whose feature is less Die Lit and more Diluted. On ‘3-Headed Snake’, his mentor, Young Thug, offers this bit of absurd wisdom: “Jeepers creepers, the gators got measles, shit.” Call it nonsense, but it still lands better and says more than Gunna ever has.

from The 405 https://ift.tt/2EuBgu0

[trevorbarre]

Spirit of ‘68, Part One

Best known in counter-cultural lore as ‘The Year of Revolution’ and les evenements in less-than-gay Parie, 1968 was a year of increasing confidence in the nascent ‘rock’ music scene and in its recorded product. Long-playing ‘albums’ (even by that time an outmoded term that originally denoted a  compilation of 78 rpm ten-inchers) were beginning to outsell 45 rpm ‘singles’ for the first time, and the year saw the release of doubles by the three most important acts of the time - the inescapable Beatles put out The White Album, The Jimi Hendrix Experience introduced the term Electric Ladyland into everyday parlance, and the soon-gone Cream unleashed the live/studio mish-mash of Wheels of Fire. On the whole, history has been kind to these ambitious works that had been potentiated by 1967′s Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, whose shadow was to extend over the decade to come and beyond.

These three were maximalist in size, length and concept - The White Album had an embarrassing wealth of material (with another potential double album’s worth of material left in the cutting room, only to be eventually made public half a century later), Electric Ladyland took the electric guitar into uncharted waters that invited the attention of most creative composers and improvisers, including Miles Davis, and Wheels of Fire demonstrated that improvisation could inform rock music to a degree previously unimagined, as a companion to baroque pop songs that were spry and humorous even if very much ‘of their time’. The possibilities seemed endless at this point in time, and individual musicians and writers were caught up in the sense of adventurousness  and boundary-blurring that Pepper had pioneered in popular music By 1970, the term ‘singer/songwriter’  came into usage, represented by the immense popularity of James Taylor, Joni Mitchell, Carole King and Neil Young, to name but four. As a counter-balance to the sheer heft of our three double heavyweights, I’d like to offer three rather more modest works from 1968 which, if not ‘minimalist’, certainly offer an alternative to the ‘heaviosity’.of blues-based rock trios such as The Experience and Cream (which soon developed into ‘rock’, a form that is still with us today and soon proved to one of the greatest unit-shifters in recorded musical history).

Songs of Leonard Cohen will be familiar to many, many people.and can be seen as one of the essential progenitors of ‘bedsitter’ music (Dylan of course being its primum mobile).Some may describe it as ‘bedwetter’ music, in comparison to the macho posturing of so much rock. Cohen wanted his songs sparse and unadorned, but, thankfully, producer John Simon was allowed to add some basic added frills in the form of string and harpsichord accompaniments. These made them, along with the composer’s powerfully understated guitar work, memorably tuneful and accessible (compare to his 1970 Songs of Love and Hate, which was far more brutal and stark). The door that Dylan had unlocked was now kicked open, and a flood of solo artists of both sexes, usually with a travelling guitar in tow ,resulted. Some, however, wanted more than a guitar or piano, so the sub-genre of ‘orchestral pop’ or even ‘art pop’ emerged, with artists as diverse as, inter alia, Jim Webb, Scott Walker, Barry Ryan, David Ackles and (on Five Leaves Left and Bryter Layter) Nick Drake,  producing ambitious ‘mini-symphonies’ of varying quality and interest, with perhaps Van Dyke Park’s Song Cycle as the most fascinating, even though he is very much one of the ‘awkward squad’ in terms of classification. Just coming out of co-writing the star-crossed Smile with Brian Wilson (the tracks Surfs Up and Cabinessence remain enduring classics of the form), Parks was at the top of his game and Song Cycle is sui generis. Critically showered with praise, the album, although it is only just over thirty minutes long (like Drake’s spartan Pink Moon, which is its precise opposite of in every other respect apart from poor sales), it suffered from a lack of ‘hooks’ or memorably ‘catchy’ melodies, and soon disappeared into obscurity, where it has largely remained ever since.

To be continued...