#this is kind of supposed to be in the rhyme scheme/rhythm of a folk song

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

a snapping of threads

oh, you know it's bad when I want to beg

bend on my knees with a weary head

you know it's bad when I start to cry

despite all the banners and bright blue skies

you know it's bad when I start to crumple

can't pick myself up from the littlest stumbles

you know it's bad because I won't lie

you ain't gonna find positivity in my eyes

oh, darling, you know it's bad when I pick up the phone

that last thing that keeps me from being alone

you know it's bad because there's the grief

stinging from my heart all the way to my teeth

you know it's bad because I haven't spoken

haven't said a word since I let you go

you know it's bad because my sinuses clog

and I'm sat here writing this damn song

oh, you know it's bad because I want to beg

pick up the phone to talk sense to your head

you know it's bad when I start to cry

brother, in the end I never could say goodbye

~ xoxo, Love yoU

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Two Hundred Nine: Folk Singer ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uchiha Itachi ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Divine Light ] [ AO3 Link ]

They’ve been on the road for nearly a week without respite. And while Sasuke has no qualms about roughing it out of doors, he has concern for his brother’s condition. After all, despite having a light mage with them...he’s not yet been fully cured. While she has the inner talents for it...she lacks the knowledge to truly apply it.

Hence the hare-brained quest to make it back to the abandoned capital of her people to find - or so they hope - the proper information to heal him completely. Until then, she’s using what she’s learned by trial and error over the years to keep him stable...but the travel is wearing on him. It’s easy enough to tell.

“One night’s stay isn’t going to be enough,” he insists the evening before they’re set to enter the next town on their route. “We have to take at least two in order to let him recover properly.”

“...I’ve no issue with that,” is her reply. “We can balance a good pace with proper rest. For now, I’ve managed his symptoms well enough. A few days’ break from our journey won’t hinder us in the grand scheme of things.”

“Good. And...don’t tell him it was my idea. He’ll only insist otherwise.”

She gives a small, knowing smile. “I’d guessed well enough. Should it come from his healer’s lips, he’ll surely listen.”

Satisfied, he retires to a place by the fire he’s started with his own fire energy. Part of him is still wary of that woman...even if he can’t precisely name why.

Coming up from nearby, Hinata puts a stopper in her waterskin. “There...that should last until we get to town tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry about it too much - we’ll be staying in town a few days.”

That earns a blink. “...really?”

“Itachi needs a break - light mage’s orders.” Might as well lay it on for her sake, too.

“...oh! Well, that’s good...maybe we can pick up some supplies. Do some trading, or...m-maybe find some small jobs while we’re there for some coin.”

“So long as we’re careful. Don’t need to stir up any trouble. Not every city is friendly to our kinds, remember?”

“I know,” she replies softly, sitting beside him. “But people will pay for the convenience of ven. You just have to know who’s sincere, and who would turn you in.”

“And that’s not always so easy to see.”

“True...but something simple, just for a few gold, wouldn’t hurt.”

“Mm…” Sasuke doesn’t agree either way. He’d rather just lay low and rest...but she has a point. True, he can hunt well enough...and her skills mean never running out of water. But a few basic supplies and comforts they can come across while still back in civilization certainly wouldn’t hurt.

Maybe even just something simple...like those sweets his brother has always liked. Sasuke’s always been the sort to spoil his elder brother. Perhaps a bit backwards, but...given their difference in health, it’s to be expected.

He takes first watch, the night quiet as the rest of his party sleeps. Itachi gave no argument to the light mage’s insistence he rest, and Sasuke breathes a quiet sigh of relief. Some respite from the road and saddle will do him good. Let him regather some energy and spirit before they take the next leg of their journey.

Hinata takes the second half of the night, and they all rise come sunup. Tearing down camp as they’re by now well-practiced, the group saddle and mount their horses before continuing down the path.

By noon, the city’s in sight. A humble place, but clearly of decent size. They soon merge into traffic of carts and other riders all looking to get to the same place.

“Feels like it’s been forever since we’ve been in town,” Hinata notes. “Especially one like this!”

“A welcome break,” Sasuke agrees, looking to the tiered stone walls. It looks decently fortified, swaths of land having been cleared for several acres to make farmland from what was once forest. They pass through farms first before arriving to the city proper.

Hoods on, they pass with the rest of the traveling crowds without problem. Sasuke can sense a few others like them - those with far brighter, colored auras than the blessless mor around them.

Immediately, they’re swept into the bustle of town. They pull to one side to reorganize.

“We’ll find an inn, first - lay claim to some rooms, then see about resupplying. Otherwise...I suppose we’re all free to do what we must until we’re rested. Just take care not to draw undue attention. Last I heard, this place is fairly tolerant of elves...but best to be cautious. Keep your heads down, and we’ll take our leave without any trouble.”

The party all nod, heading further in. Clearly a town of trade, finding an inn with rooms to spare takes until late afternoon, stabling their mounts and finding two rooms: one for each pair of men and women.

“I’d best tend to Itachi for a time. Would you two mind scoping out some supplies? I’m sure you know well enough by now what to look for. Otherwise...you’ve the evening to yourselves!”

Sasuke nods, heading out with Hinata into the streets. Markets are busy, but they replace worn cloaks and lacking foodstuffs, ensuring they have what they need before leaving in the following days.

“...oh!”

Turning as Hinata pauses, Sasuke perks a brow. “...what?”

“Do you hear that?”

“...hear what?”

“Music!”

Before he can clarify, she walks briskly in another direction, forcing him to follow as not to be separated. They both know their inn, but best to remain together.

In a square not far, seated along the rim of a fountain, is what appears to be a bard. One leg atop the other, umber hair twisted into two piled braids atop her head, she strums a loot and sings heartily to the crowds. Several have stopped to listen...and a few even make to dance.

“Look! A folksinger!”

“...what?”

“They sing traditional songs! You know, like auditory history. Tales of battles and sieges, and other events. They turn it into s-song, and keep traditions. It’s easier to remember when set to music and rhyme. I know a few, but...well, I’m not one to sing.”

Sasuke eyes the gathering a bit warily. It seems jovial enough...but he’s not eager to attract attention to themselves. “...do you want to sit and listen?”

“Can we?”

“So long as we’re still and quiet.”

Only lightly burdened, the pair find a nearby bench, perching atop it to take in the sounds for a time. Sasuke knows none of the words, or even the tales told, but he patiently takes it in. While he’s studied plenty by scroll and tome...there’s something pleasant about a history lesson set to rhythm and rhyme.

Beside him, nodding in time, Hinata smiles and listens attentively. At one point, he sees her mouth along, familiar with whatever particular ballad is sung.

...he almost wishes she’d sing. Something tells him she must have a beautiful voice.

Between songs, the bard gives smiles and nods of thanks as spare coppers and silvers are given into a chipped wooden bucket.

“...do you think it safe to give her some?”

Sasuke glances to his companion. “...I can think of better ways to spend our coin.”

“But we’ve sat and enjoyed her craft! She should be rewarded for her talent, and the work she gives it.” Making up her mind, Hinata rises despite Sasuke’s momentary rebuke.

In the end he relents (it’s not like he can ever stop her once she’s made up her mind), watching as she gives the tip and even a curtsy to the musician. The woman smiles and laughs in turn, bowing in return as best she can over the instrument in her lap.

Around Hinata, several kids take to dancing as the music starts up once more. Amused, Sasuke watches as they weave to and fro, making the path back a bit laborious. But eventually she makes it, sitting with a breathless laugh. “Well...this has been fun! I can’t remember the last time I got to hear music…”

“Maybe we need a bard in our party,” Sasuke muses, earning a soft snort.

“I think we’re crowded as it is. As grand as our adventure is...I don’t think it yet w-worthy of song.”

“Not yet, perhaps...but maybe someday.”

“Maybe someday.”

With that, the pair make their way back to the inn as evening falls. The rest of their party is down in the belly of the inn eating, and they quickly join them.

“Have a good romp through the city?” Itachi asks, and Sasuke is glad to find him already brighter-eyed.

“Aye. Stopped and listened to a bard for a time...and I think we’ve all we need.”

“Well, we’ll be here until the morn after next - we’ve time to make sure nothing is missed.”

With full bellies, they retire to their rooms: the women to one, the men to another. “Goodnight,” they all call, shutting doors and getting ready to sleep.

“Did you know any of the bard’s songs?” Itachi asks once tucked into bed.

“No...I’ve no talent for music, nor interest. But Hinata seemed to recognize one or two.”

“She seems the sort, yes. Perhaps we can see if she is there again tomorrow, this bard. I’d like to sit and listen for a time, enjoy the sun…”

“I’m sure we can.”

“Perhaps you can have a dance,” the elder brother mumbles, clearly slipping into sleep.

Perking a brow, Sasuke doesn’t answer. In truth...he did consider it...but, well...maybe tomorrow.

                                                             .oOo.

     Oooof it's late, so I'll be brief~      More crossover with my original fantasy verse! This time we find our heroes having a bit of a break. Poor Itachi needs it. And at least the rest can also benefit from a little time off the road. A little music always helps rejuvenate the soul~      But yeah, on that note...I need sleep, lol - thanks for reading!

[strangledeggs]

“Badlands (Deluxe Edition)” - Halsey

My attempt to review Halsey taught me that I’m actually a bitter, solipsistic old man. Read this absurd mess at your own risk, I honestly can’t believe I spent as much time on this as I did.

I want to like Halsey - I really do. It would be a wonderful fuck-you to the very idea of pop critic “tastefulness” as well as a raspberry in the face of the folk-rock pastorality that maintains a strong grip on the charts. And music aside, she’s championed LGBT rights and recently donated a large amount of money to Planned Parenthood in the face of its funding being cut; admirable political stances, for sure.

Of course, I’m well aware that wanting to like art-as-art simply because of the politics of the artist is often a poor motivation for enjoyment. And despite what fans may consider to be a “radical” image, Halsey remains 100% pop and the object here is still enjoyment. So the big questions here are: can I admire her music? And if I can, can I also enjoy it?

I make this distinction between admiration and enjoyment mainly because my initial negative reactions to Halsey have provoked some to point out that as pop product, she is not “made for me”, “me” being a 22-year-old generally-male-identified person. On one hand, this is true. On the other, I’m not sure if that means as much as it seems to; who’s to say we can’t enjoy music that’s not “made for us”? Isn’t that a great test of whether or not pop music works as mass entertainment, if it can somehow sweep outside the boundaries of its “target audience” and catch unlikely fans with an appreciative ear for craft? Sure, it’s not the only test, but we should admit to ourselves that there’s something particularly impressive about an artist who clearly has the artistic capability and reach to draw a bigger crowd, but is also committed to delivering their own personal message to a specific group likely to identify most with them.

And yet it seems there may be two main types of artists that fall into this category: those pop-focused, who intend to catch wider audiences than the targeted, and those politically-motivated, who actively push out parts of the wider audience to focus on a smaller group. Both, if craft is sufficient, end up attracting a wider audience, and I will provide examples to help clarify the effects: the former type is probably well-exemplified by a pop star like Britney Spears, or a country-pop star like Miranda Lambert. I doubt that either of these artists intend to target someone like me in their initial marketing, but since I can appreciate the production/songcraft/performance, I end up liking it anyway. All the better for them - more fans = more profit (or at least one would hope, though our current music industry seems to ruin even this basic axiom).

As for the second type of artist I refer to, Public Enemy remains the prime example: their music is made with a very specific group in mind, that group being black Americans frustrated by racism. Being white (not to mention Canadian, though this is less important), it’s immediately apparent that I’m not a part of Public Enemy’s “target audience”. In fact, it’s currently a pretty commonly-accepted idea (one I don’t disagree with) that if Public Enemy or a similarly radical hip-hop group were playing at a small venue and I, a white fan, had the last ticket, I would give it to a black fan to whom the show will mean much more to*. The Public Enemy model is defiantly resistant in its exclusion of oppressors; it could even be said it is largely defined by such exclusion. And yet…I am a white fan of Public Enemy. This isn’t, of course, because their politics or message speak to me - I agree with much of it, but it’s pretty clearly aimed elsewhere. The music is decidedly “not made for me”, but at the same time, I admire and enjoy the group’s skill with beats, rhymes and sheer energy.

So to return to my question, I will clarify it further with the context now established: there is something in Halsey’s music that decidedly pushes me away from it to the point that despite my wanting to like it, I find it very difficult to. The question is whether this is because of something intrinsic in the music which I can pinpoint as being “bad pop music” or “bad songwriting” or whether, instead, the music itself is simply appealing to a different audience in its aesthetics, therefore I’m not even supposed to like (it being something of a fluke if I do).

I will discuss the actual formal points of the music and lyrics that rub me the right/wrong ways below, but before I do, I want to establish two more questions to consider: if Halsey is trying to create her “aesthetic by exclusion”, as Public Enemy, who is being excluded and why? Secondly, is it possible that the very group she intends to exclude is people like me, or rather some Platonic ideal of people like me (male critics who are arrogant to assume they know something about “tastefulness” in art)? If this is the intended effect, it would place Halsey’s artistic approach closer to a Ramones-esque irony, something that plays badly to critics (or maybe just to “taste”) because its very purpose is to annoy them in the name of subverting the established artistic status quo. But this approach tends to involve a heavy dose of irony (as it is a mocking approach overall), so I add a sort of sub-question here: is there anything ironic about Halsey? Or is my expectation that there ought to be further proof of my being “out of touch” or a part of the “excluded” group?

In the following section, I will explore these questions in the composition of several individual tracks.

Castle / The New Americana

I group these two together because I believe that both musically and lyrically, they epitomize a style that led me to believe Halsey is dealing in a kind of “definition by exclusion” technique. Both songs establish a vaguely-rebellious atmosphere through moody chord progressions and plodding beats. Both deal in relatively pretentious imagery and build some sense of the singer being “indestructible”. And both define the songs’ subjects in terms of a strong kind of individualism.

Yet the songs are hardly identical, and in fact I believe “Castle” triumphs where “Americana” fails. For one, it takes on an easier-to-define subject as its protagonists, which is Halsey-the-rising-star rather than “The Halsey Generation”. Sure, it’s likely we’re supposed to see the rebellious protagonist of “Castle” as a kind of everyperson, a stand-in for anyone who’s felt the world is against them, but it’s also easier to imagine this person as a coherent individual than it is to imagine that the generation Halsey attempts to define in “Americana” is as homogenized as she manages to make it sound.

It is, however, fascinating to see how both songs’ subjects are constructed in their choruses through a kind of Saussurian signification: in “Americana”, it’s explicit; the “New Americana” are dope-smoking, hip-hop-and-grunge-listening youth, a “this-and-not-that”, if you will (see even: “We don’t feel like outsiders at all”). Of course, I’ve already noted how difficult this can be to take, considering that homogenizing an entire generation as a way of uplifting their social status is a poor way to sell an image of individualism.

Is “Castle” more successful in this respect? Yes and no, I would say. Though there’s no entire generation at stake, certain generalizations contained in the chorus create similar “this-and-not-that” exclusions. Case in point: “There’s an old man sitting on the throne” that Halsey-as-youth-movement is set to replace – a myth of pop superstardom, sure, but also a myth of generational conflict. At the same time, the individual pop star isn’t lost; Halsey does specify that the people do want her as their queen.

But let’s move away from this exclusionary-definition aspect for a moment and focus on just what the music and lyrics do formally, as these are the things that essentially make-or-break these two particular songs. First of all, there are some horrible, horrible cliches in both that Halsey should absolutely be ashamed of as a songwriter: “Sick of all these people talking”? Really? Not to mention some generally awkward vocabulary issues. I know it rhymes, but did you really have to put such a limp-sounding phrase in “Castle”’s tyrant king’s mouth as “’You probably shouldn’t be so mean’”? Similarly, boasting about your generation’s ability to get high on “legal marijuana” feels impossibly dull.

In fact, it’s not so much in vocabulary or depth that “Castle” beats “Americana” but in the musical application of the lyrics, as well as the music itself. The verses of “Castle” may have a more rigid rhythm, but this only serves to prevent Halsey from running into those clunky rhythmic dead-ends that punctuate the ends of “Americana”’s phrases. The chorus, however, is where the difference is most apparent: while Americana’s AAAA rhyme scheme feels tired after the second line (and I can’t be the only one who finds the choice of “ana” as the rhyming syllable impossibly irritating, can I?), “Castle”’s is just complex enough to convince me that she really did listen to Biggie...or, well, some hip-hop anyway. There’s a rhythmic momentum, a driving purpose to this chorus that leads it forward musically even when the lyrics fall flat. While “Americana” trudges heavily on what you start to suspect is just a treadmill, “Castle” really does give the impression of “storming the gates” it was probably intended to.

So “Castle” is sung better; what about the overall composition of the music? Here the songs are a little more equal; in my opinion, “Americana”’s brooding verse doesn’t measure up to “Castle”’s more minimal version of...pretty much the same thing, actually. The overwhelming “arena rock” vocal production of “Americana”’s chorus certainly turns me off, but it’s arguable that the unbearably pretentious church-choir pre-chorus of “Castle” is a worse mistake. But the most glaringly obvious musical flaw comes in the middle of “Americana”, in which Halsey, without a hint of irony, lifts the chorus of Biggie’s “Juicy” note-for-note, word-for-word. Look, I understand wanting to pay tribute to fallen heroes, and I’m not doubting Halsey’s love for hip-hop...but as a fellow attempted songwriter who was born in the same era and also largely raised on “Biggie and Nirvana”, I would never, ever try to pay tribute to, say, Kurt Cobain by just dropping the entire chorus of “Teen Spirit” into one of my own songs. Is this for real?

Well...I don’t know. Is it? They have their merits, but as I’ve made it clear, I can’t hear either of these songs as anything other than a mess musically. So maybe there’s a reason for that...maybe this is Halsey’s attempt at a kind of pop-art irony. One of the ironies of such an artistic irony historically is that because a specific type of culture was famously parodied, that culture has come to represent what is considered “tasteful” in terms of parody. Perhaps in this way, Halsey is actually kind of breaking some ground here; she doesn’t give in to the kitsch-y kind of pop culture pastiche we’ve come to expect from Warhol Inc., instead opting to present us with her deliberately absurd larger-than-life caricatures of the “troubled young artist”. This particular parody is doubly uncomfortable, firstly because it dares to be tasteless outside of the bounds of “tastelessness in good taste” and secondly because it does what this kind of ironic comment was so good at in the first place, which is to mock critics by bringing the very artistic traits they abhor to the forefront. We’ve pretty much got it all here between these two songs alone: cheesy dubstep moves that will not age well, “anthemic” approaches to songwriting, crass commercialism/consumer materialism, elitism, bad poetry, pretensions of “speaking for a generation”, etc. It’s exactly what critics (such as myself) don’t want to hear, which is why it’s especially powerful when shoved in our faces.

Or maybe not. Maybe Halsey really earnestly believes in each histrionic move she makes. Maybe she makes it for herself, because that’s what she likes (though this is a little hard for me to reconcile with her claims of influence in “Americana”’s chorus). Maybe she makes it for a fanbase she cynically condescends to because she knows they eat this stuff up. Or maybe it’s not even condescending; maybe she knows something critics don’t. Could it be that the kids who indulge in this stuff actually need it?

Drive

Easily the best song on the album, with very little competition. Setting aside the generational clash and “tortured artist” themes temporarily, Halsey embarks on a surprisingly rewarding journey into the personal, the interpersonal, the sexual, the existential. As with many of her songs, the triumph is primarily musical - as the clunky metaphor of her “hand on your stick shift” in the first couple lines will remind you, she’s a limited poet. The first thing that struck me was the lonesome guitar riff that sulks in the background until partway through the song, the curtains are parted and it’s all that’s left for a few suspenseful seconds. It’s probably the first (the only?) moment on “Badlands” I would consider calling beautiful.

Which is not to say it’s Halsey’s absence that makes the song; the chorus is killer, too, taking more after “Castle”’s hip-hop rhythms in an effect that sounds oddly circular – conveniently thematically relevant. And that’s only the first of the two choruses; one might argue that the real “hook” is in the second part’s lightly descending melody.

I’m afraid I have to backtrack a little here, because I may have given the impression that this song’s most endearing elements are musical because the lyrics are poorly written. All jokes about car fetishes aside, this could hardly be further from the truth; here, Halsey finds some of her most complex themes on the album: relationships, sex, interpersonal dealings that turn into means of escape. Escape from what exactly? One of the reasons I was drawn to this song in the first place is in what I perceived to be a fear or hatred of California, but this is most likely just my own personal anti-California bias. And besides, it’s unlikely to be California that she’s running (driving?) from, as she does admit to finding home in it once actually in motion. So the fear is nameless, shapeless, yet it pursues; all they do is drive, but maybe it’s all they can do.

It’s as if Halsey here has found the perfect “other” to define herself in relation to by letting it pass mysteriously beneath the radar of coherent definition. There’s a fear that keeps her in motion, and it’s all the more unsettling that it can’t really be named. And to think, all this accomplished with nary a mention of “demons”.

Roman Holiday/Colors

It’s once again from a primarily musical standpoint that I find these two examples interesting, though one stands out far more than the other. To get the easier one out of the way, I’ll say that “Roman Holiday” is simply amusing. Lyrically, it reads like a fluffier “teenage rebellion” version of “Drive”. Musically, however, it’s quite entertaining, though in what sense Halsey intended it to be, I’m not entirely sure. You see, for all the pretentious production on this album up until this point which seems to want to land Halsey in that most artificial of genres known as “alternative”, “Roman Holiday” (not to be confused with the Nicki Minaj gem) would sit very comfortably on a top 40 radio station’s playlist. Is this intentional? Is this Halsey’s true aim? Or is it more mockery? Is this her idea of a “parody” of top 40? In which case I must also ask, how close can a parody come to the original before it simply becomes another of the thing it attempts to parody?

“Colors” is more embarrassing. OK, yes, much of Halsey is embarrassing (as is the fact that I’m even writing this review), but “Colors” is an especially fascinating train-wreck of an attempt at another pop song in a similar vein as “Roman Holiday”. It starts fairly satisfactory; “You’re dripping like a saturated sunset” is a little hard to take, but at this point in the album I’ve come to make an allowance of at least one of these occurrences per song, as she seems incapable of letting them alone. And the line “I hope you make it til the day you’re 28 years old” is actually kind of touching, as a “from-one-star-to-another” kind of reassurance that she doesn’t really want to buy into the whole “die young” legend.

And then comes the chorus, which is, much like “Romany Holiday”’s, simply a great radio-ready hook, complete with a little falsetto garnish to finish off each phrase. The whole “blue/grey” imagery can seem a bit tired, but it’s at least coherent thematically with the song’s turning its eye outward to another troubled artist she worries about. Overall, this is a fairly satisfying song – it can’t compete with “Drive”, but it might hold it’s own against “Castle” or “Roman Holiday”.

Which is exactly why it’s such a shame she brings it all down with a single incredible blunder. Look Halsey, again from a fellow attempted songwriter, I know that bridges are hard. It’s simply not very intuitive to suddenly pull a 180 in the middle of your song and add in a totally new and fleeting passage that somehow fits in with the rest of the song up to that point. But the spoken word passage that serves as the bridge in “Colors” is a special kind of garbage. It’s the kind of cringe-worthy high school poetry that induces instant secondhand embarrassment. The easiest way to explain it is simply to quote it in its entirety – in fact, many have done so on the internet already, mocking its awfulness by turning it into a meme in itself, so don’t be surprised if you recognize the following:

“You were red and you liked me because I was blue You touched me and suddenly I was a lilac sky And you decided purple just wasn't for you”

Early literary critic Matthew Arnold had an idea that passages of “great literature” should be self-evidently great when read, as people should instantly their unnameable greatness simply through hearing or reading them. He called these passages “touchstones”, marks against which other literature ought to be measured. I find it hard to agree with Arnold’s theory as the definition of “great literature” or even “great art” has become increasingly difficult to parse, but perhaps I could agree to a kind of inversion of it: instead of “great literature”’s “greatness” being intuitive, perhaps horrifyingly bad poetry or art would be intuitively recognized as such. And I would like to put forth the above passage from “Colors” as the ideal “touchstone” for bad poetry. Its awfulness is almost beyond comprehension.

And it absolutely destroys what was otherwise a perfectly passable pop song. I find such an amazing lapse in judgment hard to understand. Is this irony? It’s hard to imagine why irony would have a place in this otherwise seemingly sincere song. Keep in mind, as well, that Halsey does not sing these lines as she does the rest of the lyrics in the song; she chooses instead to speak them, as if they were somehow so personal and important that they couldn’t be set to music. And yet these are the lines that have single-handedly turned her into a laughing stock among many circles. I don’t know. I really don’t. I’m just as confused as you are.

Colors Pt II

Unnecessary, fleeting, impressionistic - sure. But it’s also missing that godawful monologue from the song’s first part.

Control

I took a shot at Halsey’s “demons” (fun game: count the number of times this word appears on the album) while writing about “Drive”, which they are conspicuously absent from. If I had to single out a more specific target on the album to further mock, it would be “Control”, no contest. Musically, it’s a total write-off: weak melodies and a weaker main hook over generic production. So in the absence of real musical content, all we’re left with are the lyrics, and holy shit, what lyrics! It’s a bit like shooting fish in a barrel, but this really warrants some choice quotes:

“The house was awake

With shadows and monsters,

The hallways, they echoed and groaned”

“My mind’s like a deadly disease”

“And all the kids cried out,

‘Pleas stop, you’re scaring me’”

“And I’ve grown familiar

With villains that live in my head”

I kind of feel bad doing this, and it’s not just because so many of these serve as bad poetry “touchstones” that approach the bridge of “Colors” in terms of second-hand embarrassment; it’s also because I see here someone who I imagine is genuinely struggling with something and trying to turn it into an artistic statement. If we take her at face value, Halsey is clearly suffering from something, and yet her songwriting diction makes it impossible to take seriously. I mean, typically one wouldn’t write the line “Goddamn right, you should be scared of me” without reason.

But hold on, hold on – this can’t be right. She’s not really this un-self-aware, is she? Surely you don’t cram that many cliches into your work without consciously realizing what a mess it is. And she has proven that she is capable of writing about her troubles in a less hackneyed manner (see: “Drive”). So I’m left to fall back on my old interpretive crutch: could this be...ironic? Is she parodying herself here? Or perhaps the “tortured artist” caricature she loves to play? Am I overthinking this? Do people really like this stuff? Have I become that much of a snob that I can’t even imagine that anyone over the age of 13 would possibly express themselves using such language? I’ll never know the “real” Halsey, and I’ll never be able to see myself from the outside, so these questions will likely remain unanswered to me, but I suppose now it’s up to you to decide: is Halsey worth your time? Was she worth my time? Does this review say more about me than it does about her?

I Walk The Line

Bonus tracks are strange beasts in the world of pop music. They can be singles that were never intended to be packaged with a particular album, or surprisingly great originals that just didn’t make the cut, or total throwaways. Typically, covers fall into this final category, but something about Halsey’s cover of the Johnny Cash classic doesn’t quite seem to fit. Perhaps this is because it is, by all rights, truly strange. Musically, it’s more of the same dark, moody atmosphere the producers of “Castle” and “Drive” manage to conjure, to the point that the song has even been transposed into a minor key to better serve this purpose. And yet, for all Halsey’s sombre, dedicated delivery, she can’t seem to make me forget that her approach to the song simply does not suit its lyrics. She wavers and frets where Cash forged ahead with the steady confidence implied by his words. It’s certainly understandable Halsey would be interested in it; it conveys a sense of danger and ruggedness she’s clearly attracted to. Unfortunately, the delivery and stylistic choice only ends up sounding incongruous. Again...is this irony? Am I pushing too hard here?

Post-Script: Ha ha ha, holy fuck, I just finished writing all this and once again looked up “Badlands” on Wikipedia for more background and...this thing was supposed to be a fucking concept album? About a dystopian society? Ha ha holy shit, this is too much! It’s like the more I learn about this album, the harder it is to believe it ever made it past the drawing board.

*I’m well aware that Public Enemy aren’t exactly paragons of political awareness in all areas, and there’s a reason they’ve suffered since their original breakthrough. I chose them mostly because they were a very explicit example of what I’m talking about at their peak.