#when he added a minute of electronic beats to the end of a song that need to be plugged into a special program

[torsamors]

why do people act like pete is the fob weirdo it’s literally patrick

[charmedreincarnation]

Hello! How are you? I am very good for now. because after trying for over a year I switched to void state last night very easily! it was an incredibly amazing experience for me. I stumbled upon your account on tumblr a few days ago, I saw a lot of people have succeeded with the method you suggested! I felt so happy for them!

Now I will tell my own success story.

I used to be so obsessed with it that I was just procrastinating and "trying" to get into the void when I had so much work to do whenever I had free time.

Throughout this process, I always thought that I would not succeed and always went back to the beginning. I was very bad with everyone around me, I was constantly fighting and exposed to violence. In short, I was experiencing hell on this earth.

Months passed and I decided to focus on my life a little bit. I tried to think positively and convince myself how easy it was for me to manifest. But there was one very important thing that I forgot, all the evil forces in this hell were coming only on me, only me.

I spent the whole of last year and the first months of this year like a living dead...

But in these last few days, I have made a decision that will radically change my life. Before, I tried every method to enter void constantly, but something was not going well every time. So I decided that it would be easier and more useful to just assume that I woke up there, rather than making dozens of efforts to enter void 2 days ago.

THE DAY I FINALLY ENTERED THE VOID CONSCIOUSLY!

I didn't listen to the subliminal, I just did a 20-minute meditation, my wish to revisit life in more detail. At the end of the meditation, I said only one affirmation: I will wake up in void tonight.

I wasn't tired and very sleepy that night (these are usually what people think is necessary for a void).I just lay on my bed in my usual position and affirmed that I would wake up in void at night. After that I already went straight to sleep.

I woke up in the middle of the night, I didn't move. The sounds were so muffled, it's like you're listening to a song through a broken earpiece, that's how I heard it. I stayed like that for a few minutes, then the sounds suddenly stopped and I felt myself being pulled into the darkness. My heart was beating so fast, so I focused on calming myself. I couldn't feel my body anymore, as if someone was separating my soul from my body and floating it in a vacuum of space. That's when I realized that I really succeeded! And I calmed down for a while and then said my affirmations. I didn't make a special list, so I said it all one by one.

My manifests:

The face and body I dreamed of down to the smallest detail

My desired name, surname(i have two names in different languages)

My dream room and house with all the items on my Pinterest board(There were almost 50K pins on the board I mentioned...)

I overhauled my father as someone else entirely. With his nationality, zodiac sign, appearance, name.(I also added that he is a person who gets along perfectly with his 4 children and his wife!)

I made my mother younger in appearance, not in age, I also wished her a happy and peaceful life in every way.

As for our financial situation, my father is an extraordinarily wealthy businessman, we own the largest house and the most luxurious car in my city. We also have 4 modern apartments and 1 huge villa in another city! It does not end with these, we also have houses in America, France, England!

I also manifested new phone and other electronic gadgets.

We are 4 siblings in the family and we all get along very well, no hurtful words and no violence!

I have a private room for my unfinished clothes in my room and a very nice bathroom adjacent to my room!

I also manifested success in the lessons: no matter how long the paragraph is, it stays in my mind only once I read it and I never forget it! I do not have a single error in all the tests I have solved.

We have a total of 4 pets including 2 cats and a puppy and a husky dog. Our garden is huge, with a big swing, a covered area to sit in in the winter, and lots of lavender flowers, white roses!

By the way, I manifested that I have lived this life from the beginning, so our house is full of memories we have accumulated with my siblings and parents since childhood, our childhood photos everywhere, emotional diaries my mother wrote when she was pregnant.

I also manifested new friends to myself: one of them is famous (keep this part private lol), I wished to meet him since childhood. Apart from her, I also have a male friend who is our family friend and my best friend who lives with us.

That's all I wanted, I left everything else to my subconscious and my last sentence before leaving the void was "I will open my eyes to the life I dreamed of".

Finally, when I came out of the void, I heard my brother's voice, scolding me for turning off the air conditioner in my room and leaving it on until morning, and saying that he would be very upset if I got sick. (it did indeed come true more perfectly than I had imagined! )

The reason why I wrote my success story and the life I manifested at length is this: most people limit their desires and try to make do with less. Believe me, I was thinking the same way a month ago, thinking that living the life I wanted was unfair to the people in my life. But lately, thanks to what those people did to me, I realized that all this time I had been unfair to myself, not to them. After realizing this, I reminded myself that I only deserved the life of my dreams.

And now that I'm who I should be, I'm pretty happy with it. I can't thank you enough  my dear. The success stories you shared motivated me a lot and helped me take action.

I am so proud of you my love. I absolutely adore revision stories as well as the usage of intention which is my personal favorite method. No method is stronger than your will to have your desires. Thank you so much for sharing your story and I hope you continue to always live your best life <3

[nihilsimi]

my lover, lover, lover (you shot me down 뱅뱅)

summary / the inspiration that mamma mia! can unexpectedly bring warnings / none

there’s one too many times when he really should hold his tongue back. once, when he spilled the whereabouts of julian's proposal plans in a late night escapade to erika's younger sister, the biggest tattletale of them all. two, when he mentioned his own desire to get married to a girl who shattered one too many pieces of his heart in the end — love blinds thee unfortunate ones, and seojoon isn't privvy to being saved. three, when he told his mom that he didn't want to watch mamma mia with her, despite knowing how much comfort it brings her.

to be fair, he's seen it, what? eight times in the past year with her? today will mark the first of 2024. 

and then, there’s now, as he marches to the kitchen to replenish an empty takeya steel bottle he's left at home to rot in the past few months (nothing a good ol' scrubbing wont fix). "doesn't it seem too rash that they'd want to venture out on a year long's adventure while not really having a solid source of income?" a solo tirade, spilling out of his mouth filter-free that by the time his mind finally caught up, he reverts in complete silence, falling passive once more.

“love makes you do stupid things sometimes, joonie.." his mom's voice is wistful as it trails in the end, manicured nails scratching at the nape. he knows the tale well, a passion filled month with a useless man who would leave her in the end for the conception of seojoon - he knows how much she relates to amanda seyfried's character all too well.

love makes you do stupid things sometimes. he repeats this in his head. love makes you do stupid things all the time.  

and that’s how he lands himself in the crevices of his room, scribbling and noting and playing around with any beat that comes. end of solo promotions and the beginnings of a next project, yet he fails to make time for any morsel of peace and solace when he’s slaving away one by one, skewing sounds here and there to make for a song with an impact.

at best, what he comes up with in the minutes of fatigue consist of nothing more than a johnny stimson's inspired harmony. lyrics that cater towards the risk one takes when they're falling in love. when they're deep in love. he starts with a strike of ‘my lover, lover, lover,' layer over the middle a bit, shoots it down (bang bang). it doesn't take long, in fact, it comes all naturally to him.

heavy synth, an electronic sound — and he wants to fall back to the limelight of the golden days, where the song standstills on its own. so, he pulls himself out of the box he’s trapped himself in of self-dwelling croons of trap beats and brings himself to face the mind of his emotions. he'll get to the languid croons of tenderness, aiming for something different — whimsical, something that feels like he’s spinning on his toes, magical and dreamy. 

it’s plagued in various cues, the rap and rhyme. vague references to pop culture phenomenon — too many ad-libs that make his head dizzy when he’s running through the guide track.

but when he thinks of a lover, it's always back to the feeling of being down bad, so bad that you lose any sense of logic. like sophie, as she sends those three letters to her unknown father, the possibility of success terrifying. and there's sky, sky who puts her on a pedestal, as one should, catering to her needs, her needs, her needs.. it’s in the bridges of love, and this bridge that holds his attention for days. hours, minutes to the seconds when he runs through each idea of a rhythm before settling on what he thinks would fit him best.

an email drafted, he scrawls out “mamma mia.mp3 - check it out (draft)” as the subject before placing the mp3 file and hitting send to julian and ej.

[buccee]

Challenge

The theme of the playlist is "Challenge." The motto of my life is also a Challenge. We are actually constantly challenging the entropy to survive. If we stop challenging, we die. On top of survival, I also want to challenge the world to shape it in a better way. I want to challenge exploring the world outside. I want to challenge the creator of the universe.

"Symphony No. 5" by Ludwig van Beethoven (1808) https://youtu.be/-VVXqNt4qU0 Beethoven was born in Bonn, Germany, in 1770. and he moved to Vienna, Austria, when he was around 22 years old. Beethoven started losing hearing when he was 28, and he moved to a small town to rest. After he came back to Vienna, he said, "I am not satisfied with the work I have done so far. From now on, I intend to take a new way." He started the composition of the Symphony in 1804. Also, there was political turmoil in Vienna from the occupation by Napoleon's troops in 1805. He premiered the symphony in 1808 when he was 38. Beethoven pointed to the beginning of the first movement and expressed in these words the fundamental idea of his work: "Thus Fate knocks at the door!" For the melody in Symphony No. 5, Beethoven presents a four-note motif that is repeated and developed throughout the symphony. The symphony has an energetic and dramatic tempo. The opening movement, Allegro con brio, is played at a lively pace, creating a sense of urgency and intensity. The subsequent movements also maintain a dynamic tempo. The symphony features moments of consonance, where harmonies are resolved and creates a sense of stability. There are also dissonant elements to introduce tension and suspense in the development section. The music gives me the emotion that even though fate surrounds me with power, I find balance in that and try to surf on fate.

"The Show Must Go On" by Queen (1991) https://youtu.be/t99KH0TR-J4 Queen is a British rock band formed in London by Freddie Mercury (lead vocal) and three other members. "The Show Must Go On" is a final track on their 1991 album, Innuendo. The song chronicles the effort of Freddie Mercury continuing to perform despite approaching the end of his life due to his HIV/AIDS. Nine months after the album was released, Freddy Mercury died. The melody of "The Show Must Go On" is powerful. It features a wide vocal range with soaring high notes. The tempo of the song is moderate. The song maintains a steady rhythm throughout the song. The verses and choruses generally express consonant harmonies, but during the bridge section, the harmonies become more dissonant, adding tension.

"Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger" by Daft Punk (2001) https://youtu.be/gAjR4_CbPpQ Daft Punk was a French electronic music duo formed in 1993 in Paris by Thomas Bangalter and Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo. "Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger" is built around a keyboard sampled from the "Cola Bottle Baby" by Edwin Birdsong (1979). The melody of the song is primarily driven by a repetitive vocal line that forms the core of the song. The melody consists of short phrases and catchy hooks. The song has a fast tempo ranging between 120-130 beats per minute (BPM). This fast-paced tempo makes the song energetic and dynamic. The song mostly features consonant elements. The vocals and instruments are harmonically aligned, but there are some dissonant elements with synthesized sounds. The song gives me an idea of humans challenging their biological limitations and trying to be better by transforming themselves into a robot. The song gives me the emotion of challenging adversity to keep going with what I should do.

"Can't Tell Me Nothing" by Kanye West (2007) https://youtu.be/E58qLXBfLrs Kanye West is a rapper in the USA. He grew up in Chicago. The theme of "Can't Tell Me Nothing" by Kanye West is Kanye's success and his defiance against criticism. The song has a relatively simple and repetitive melodic structure. The main melodic motif provides a catchy and memorable hook for the track. The tempo of this song is moderate, with a steady beat. It has typical hip-hop tempos, which are energetic. The song has repetitive and bass-heavy instrumentals. The bassline and drum patterns express consonance. Also, synthesizers and vocal samples add dissonance with tension. The song gives me the emotion that Kanye challenges other people's criticism of him, and he will go his way regardless.

"Not Afraid" by Eminem (2010) https://youtu.be/j5-yKhDd64s Eminem is a rapper in the USA. For much of his youth, he grew up in a primarily black Detroit neighborhood, and he was beaten several times by other youths. The theme of "Not Afraid" is about his past experiences with addiction and fame. The song prioritizes rhythmic patterns and lyrical delivery over melodic content. Eminem delivers fast-paced, rhythmic patterned rap. The tempo is fast-paced, and the song has a steady and energetic beat. Consonance and Dissonance: Since "Not Afraid" is primarily focused on the rhythmic and lyrical aspects rather than harmonic elements. The song gives me the emotion that Eminem is not afraid to challenge his dark past and bad habit and move forward and transform himself.

"Titanium" by David Guetta (2011) https://youtu.be/JRfuAukYTKg David Guetta is a French DJ. Guetta's father is Moroccan-Jewish, and his mother is of Belgian descent. The song features female singer Sia, who is Australian. The lyrics are about titanium which is a strong and unbreakable material that others' negative opinions can't bring it down. The melody of "Titanium" is characterized by a catchy and memorable vocal line. It has a simple and repetitive structure. The melody consists of a combination of ascending and descending phrases. The song has a moderate tempo and maintains a steady beat. The song uses harmonies and chord progressions that create a sense of consonance. The song gives me strong hard metal that doesn't get affected by the environment and keeps itself as it is.

[bluegarners]

Bad Things Happen Bingo: Distress Call (Dick Grayson)

The radio is playing one of those new pop-songs that Dick can’t keep up with. It’s a fun, quick paced song, full of electronic instruments and auto-tuned voices that sound ridiculously young, and the lyrics are lamenting about a breakup, or maybe some sort of lost love. It’s standard, typical outlet store music that he’s sure minimum wage workers rage at whenever they hear it, but Dick doesn’t mind it. He doesn’t have a preference when it comes to music, though most of the songs on his playlist tend to be rock, so he taps his fingers along the steering wheel to its beat, humming the chorus and following the rhythm. 

The backroads behind highways are always dark, an inky depth to its long pathways that makes driving them at night almost peaceful. Dick likes to think of it as space travel, a quiet trip through the cosmos, passing through black-holes and asteroid belts. He has the LEDs on for his headlights, these backroads hardly ever trafficked through, and the scenery consists solely of himself, the car, a seemingly endless road, and acres and acres of woodland mixed with the busy noises of thousands of cars on the distant highway. 

Taking backroads always added another thirty minutes or so to his commute from Bludhaven to Gotham, but Dick appreciated the scenic route. It was a nice change of pace compared to the loud and bustling cities he traveled between, and the stillness of the forest would always pleasantly haunt him. He’s been a city boy his entire life, and even when traveling with Haly did the ringmaster only ever lead them to populated cities and towns for good turnouts to their shows. So, even though the city is a comforting familiarity, the muffled world of forgotten streets and old oaks is an eerie, well loved feeling that Dick enjoys whenever he can.

The song changes to a commercial break, an old woman with the voice of an aged smoker speaking into the mic, and Dick’s eyes stay lazily trained on the road ahead of him. He looks in his rear-view mirror, glancing behind the turn he just took, and slowly pushes against the accelerator. He’s careful about his speeds on backroads, a much less maintained area than the highways, but because the chances of running into anyone else is pretty low, Dick lets his lead-foot guide him. He’s reaching around sixty-five mph when the radio begins to whine, a screechy static overwhelming the woman’s voice as she announces the next song.

Muttering to himself about bad reception, Dick fiddles with a knob on his dash, flicking over to the next radio station. He only gets a few snappy catches of some kind of horn before that, too, turns into whirring static, oscillating frequencies mutilating the sound. Frustrated, Dick scrolls through each station, waiting to hear some kind of recognizable rhythm, eyes flickering back and forth between the station numbers and the blank road before him, straight and unchanging. Finally, something catches his ear, a melodic voice weeping about some past memory, and Dick brightens, turning his attention to his dash as he narrows in on the exact frequency. It takes barely a second, mindlessly tuning into the station and catching the tail ends of an old, crooning ballad, but when Dick looks up, two small beacons of light are staring right at him, flashing in his irises.

He doesn’t have time to even yell, both hands white knuckling the steering wheel as he swerves, tires howling against broken asphalt and headlights cutting through seething darkness. His knees lock, right foot tight against the break, and he feels the exact moment centripetal force wins over as his seatbelt tears into his shoulder and his weight is thrown forwards, whiplash snapping his forehead into the steering wheel in milliseconds.

The world becomes a mess of white light and gray leather after that, rolling, rolling, rolling, and somewhere amidst the chaos, Dick sees a wash of brilliant color kaleidoscope in his vision. Finally, the world jerks to a stop, his head lolling forwards, and Dick is faintly aware of the mess of red, blinking light and flaring pain. He still can’t see straight and there’s a loud ringing in his ears, like he finally knows what a dog whistle sounds like, and, weirdly, the kaleidoscope begins to fade in the corners of his vision. He blinks and the colors only fade further, melding together in a slush of hazy, static gray.

Stay awake, half of his mind screams at him. Stay awake!

But between one blink and the next, the world winks out and Dick slumps soundlessly into the noise.

x x x

Bruce is stacking dishes when he feels his phone faintly buzz. He ignores it, paying attention to the task at hand, and accepts the glass dish handed to him, drying it with a slightly damp towel. Damian is to his left, also drying, and somewhere in the dining room, Alfred is putting away the placemats and various untouched silverware. The evening is still in their gentle routine, somehow even smaller than it usually is.

Dick had not made it in time for dinner. 

It had put his youngest son into a foul mood, the boy especially quiet and dutifully putting away the last of the dishes into their appropriate cabinets. Bruce hadn’t said anything, knowing those kinds of platitudes only served to further sour the young boy’s mood, but, secretly, Bruce had also been disappointed in his eldest’s no show. It was unlike Dick to be late, at least without warning, and Bruce noticed Alfred’s muted demeanor at having to store away the uneaten portions of food. 

Dick was supposed to come sometime in the late evening, traveling towards Gotham after getting off of work, but after waiting an additional hour for him to show, Alfred had sighed and set aside some food on another plate, encouraging the others to eat. “I’m sure Master Dick won’t mind,” Alfred had said, even as his mouth dipped. “Go on, the food will get cold.”

That had been almost two hours ago, the meal having taken an hour to get through if only for the unspoken agreement to stall for the young man. Now, the process of cleaning was also almost done, Bruce shelving the last drinking glass and Damian setting their drying cloths onto a rack. Outside, night had fully settled, pitch and obsidian. 

“Has he called you?” Damian asks, face disinterested but hands twitching at his sides. 

Bruce shakes his head, pulling out his phone. There’s a new notification for a voicemail. Confusion pokes at his brow though when he sees its sender. “I must have missed it,” he mutters, thumbing the screen as he clicks on the message. “He left a voicemail.”

Holding the phone to his ear, Bruce leans back against the counter, Damian’s eyes fixed on his face.  There’s nothing for a moment, just a strange, almost static cling in the frequency, before Dick begins to speak.

“Hey, Bruce.” His voice is raspy, like he’s speaking with sandpaper in his throat. “There’s no reception out here. Can you believe that?” Hysteria slides into the end of his question, desperate laughter tumbling out. Immediately, Bruce is straightening, eyes finding his youngest son’s in a message that says, Something’s wrong. 

“I’ll get the car,” Damian says, rushing out of the kitchen. The urgency is unsaid, but the weight in the room is suddenly tangible between Bruce’s fingers like hot, sticky molasses. He feels his head pulse in time with the molten air, sweat dripping into the crease in his collar.

“I tried calling 911,” Dick continues, and Bruce’s heart falters in his chest, “but it didn’t go through. Tried calling you, too, but it’s not working out too great. At least you’ve got your voicemail set up.” There’s another dry laugh as Bruce fumbles around the kitchen, yanking together all the medical supplies from under the sink. Alfred walks in then, surprise flickering onto his face at the sight, and Bruce mouths, Dick’s hurt. 

“I crashed my car.” Bruce wills his arms not to shake as he hands some of the supplies over to Alfred, the older man taking a moment to firmly squeeze his shoulder before swiftly exiting. “There was a deer in the road and I wasn’t– doesn’t matter much right now. I… The car flipped. I can’t get out of my seat and I’m pretty sure I broke my left arm. I hit my head on the steering wheel, too.”

Damian runs back into the kitchen, brows pinched and jaw clenched tightly. He waits for something, anything, but Bruce is firmly blocking every other noise except for the one directly in his ear.

“I passed out for a while. I think it’s been a little over an hour. Maybe more. I’m-I’m hurt, B.” Dick breathes in deeply, air snagging in his throat as his voice catches. “Can you come get me?”

The message ends there, an abrupt silence that makes Bruce want to hurl his phone across the room. He needs to keep his head though, so instead he shoves the device back into his pocket, marching after Damian as the boy turns on his heel and leads them out to the garage, where he has already started their largest, most inconspicuous vehicle. It’s their choice of transportation when the situation isn’t Batman related, fully stocked with communicators, spare medical supplies, various necessities, and, most importantly, access to the Cave. 

“I’ve found him, Master Bruce.” Alfred’s voice takes on a slightly tinny quality through the car’s speakers, a map with markers flashing onto the dashboard screen. “Follow the directions I’ve laid out for you. You’ll reach him in less than ten minutes.”

Less than ten minutes, Bruce repeats in his head, tires screeching as they tear out from the driveway and out of Wayne property. He was that close?

Damian must be thinking the same thing, scowl deepening as he checks and re-checks over the supplies they have. Bandages, QuickClot, water, adrenaline, sutures, sewing kit, alcohol, tape, tourniquets, hydrogen peroxide. Bandaids, eyepatches, defibulators, safety pins, cold packs, hand warmers. Splints, braces, cotton balls, baster, saline solution, towelettes. Check, re-check, double check. Bruce’s fingers are going numb.

“Master Dick will be on your left,” Alfred interrupts, collectively cool and away from the potency. “Begin to slow, you’re approaching his marker quickly. I’ve prepared a gurney and an IV for when–”

“There!” Damian suddenly shouts, shoving forwards in his seat as he points desperately at the dull shine of a grand marquis in the headlights. “He’s there!”

They can’t get out fast enough, both Waynes launching themselves out of the car and to the overturned vehicle. 

“Dick?” Bruce calls, sliding to his knees to peer into the driver’s seat. “Dick?”

The windows are cracked, spiderweb fractures covering the entirety of the left side of the vehicle, and Bruce curses. He can’t see his son through the breakage, and by the lack of response, his eldest is most likely unconscious. Damian is breathing hard next to him and when he sees that there’s no way to get to his brother, he runs back to their car, returning with a glass breaker in hand.

Bruce takes it, throwing over his shoulder, “Stabilizers next.”

Damian is gone again and Bruce hastily shoves on some gloves, the intensity in which he does so enough to make his world shrink to a pinprick. The white LEDs from the car they came in, combined with the flashing red hazards from Dick’s car, is nearly enough to overwhelm him, the sound of his own breathing irritating to listen to. Picking the breaker back up, Bruce strikes at the bottom corner of the window, careful to not be too forceful lest the glass shatter inwards and break on his son’s face. A hole opens up, tiny shards sprinkling the cool grass, and Bruce shoves a few gloved fingers into the opening, pulling the glass outwards onto the ground. He’s careful not to spread it, mindful of his own vulnerable knees, and Damian returns with the stabilizers, heading to the front of the car and pushing the wedges beneath the windshield and hood.

“Is he awake yet?” the boy asks, hovering. 

Bruce doesn’t answer, continuing to widen the hole, when a soft groan emerges from the car. 

“Richard?” Damian lowers himself next to Bruce, peeking into the dark car. “Richard, can you hear me?”

There’s another groan in response, a little louder this time.

“Where are you injured?” Damian continues to question, unable to do anything else as Bruce pulls away the last of the glass. “Are you bleeding?”

“Flashlight,” Bruce mumbles, holding out a hand expectedly as one is placed in his palm. “He said his left arm is broken. Probably a concussion too, which means-”

“On it.” And Damian is gone again, rushing back to the car.

“B?”

“I’m here.” Shuffling as close as he dares, Bruce shines the flashlight to the floor, avoiding his eldest’s eyes. “I’m here, Dick. You’re okay.”

“M’ head hurts,” Dick slurs, face bright red and gaze unfocused. 

“We’re going to get you out soon.” A neck brace is suddenly beside him, Damian clutching other supplies in his hands. “But you need to be still. Do not move.”

“Can’t,” Dick chuckles, cringing as his eyes slide shut again. “I’m hurt, B.”

“I know, I know, chum. Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to unlock your car and open up this door. Damian–”

“Dami’s here?”

“Yes, he’s here, and when I open this door, I’m going to put this brace around your neck. After that, I’m going to hold you, okay? I’m going to hold you and Damian is going to undo your seatbelt so we can get you out, okay? Do you understand, Dick? You need to be as still as possible. Do you understand?”

“Yeah,” Dick croaks out, a grimace smothered on his face as tears squeeze past his clenched eyelids. “I got it.”

Hurrying but still so, so cautious, Bruce feels around for the side door lock, fumbling with the buttons. A stray piece of glass scrapes against the underside of his forearm, but the sting is hardly felt as he hears the latches unlock. Holding his breath, Bruce extracts his arm, praying for the door to not be stuck, and releases it when the handle moves without issue. 

“I’m going to open the door now,” he says, bracing a hand against the metal. “Say something if it hurts you.”

Dick hums in response, eyes still firmly shut, and Bruce slowly edges open the door, meeting only slight resistance as the frame scrapes against the dirt. Picking up the flashlight, Damian shines it around the inside of the vehicle, illuminating the deployed airbags, toppled water bottles, and other personal items strewn about the cabin. There’s no dripping blood though, nor obvious splattered fluids. The chaos is contained to material destruction and Damian relaxes fractionally. Finally having pried the door open wide enough, Bruce reaches for the brace. 

“Dick?” A hum. “I’m going to put the neck brace on you now. You need to be still. I know you’re in pain, we’re going to help you with that soon, but do not move. It’s going to be okay.”

Dick just hums again and Bruce grimaces, knowing his son is drifting back to the edge of unconsciousness. 

“Damian.” The boy is immediately at his side. “Crawl in here- watch the glass- and hold his chin steady.”

Slowly, Bruce slides the plastic chin piece beneath Dick’s jaw, the movement awkward with so many people in such a cramped place. Dick has fully passed out again, the bloodrush to his head likely having been too much to keep him aware for long, and Bruce is silently grateful for it. As Damian adjusts his grip to hold the underside of the brace, Bruce reaches around and delicately connects the other side of the brace to wrap around the back of Dick’s neck. He hears the small clicks as Damian adjusts the chin strap to sit tighter beneath his older brother’s jaw and breathes out.

“Done?” he asks, hand lingering over the straps.

“Yeah.”

Grunting, Bruce moves to the side as Damian crawls back out, grabbing the seat belt cutter and opening the latches on the prepared backboard. Double checking, Damian looks over to Bruce for confirmation. Satisfied, Bruce braces himself against Dick’s shoulders, securing his sides and supporting as much as his body with his own as possible. “Go.”

Quickly, Damian reaches around his father’s broad back, pulling first at the cross belt. “Cutting,” he announces, sawing through the polyester with ease. 

Bruce tenses, pressing only lightly against his eldest so he doesn’t fall forward. “Clear.”

Moving forwards again, Damian reaches for the lap belt, re-checking his father’s position. “Cutting,” he says again, the woven nylon tearing apart at his hand.

Dick’s weight fully rests against Bruce’s chest, and slowly, with Damian’s help, they maneuver him as cautiously as possible out of the wrecked car, placing him gently onto the backboard and strapping him in. Relieved that the worst of the ordeal is over, Bruce rests on the balls of his feet for a moment, taking in the flushed and slightly bloodied face of his son. 

There’s a cut just below his hairline, a goose egg swelling to an awful proportion, sickly purple blotting the area and disappearing into thick, dark hair. Looking at his son’s left arm, Bruce determines it to be just dislocated rather than broken. Not wanting to mess with it until they have better access to medical equipment, Bruce places the arm in a sling, allowing Damian to tape an ice pack over the worst of the swelling. Further than that, Dick’s injuries mainly seem to consist of various bruises and a few minor lacerations. Later, they’ll have to scan for internal bleeding or other closed injuries they missed, but for now, Dick doesn’t seem to be in any critical state. The seatbelt and airbags did their job and Bruce has never been more thankful for his persistence in car safety. 

Sighing, Bruce looks up and meets Damian’s significantly less pinched face. The long night had come to an end. 

“Let’s go home."

[thinking1bee]

Dance One Shot

Requested by Anonymous

Pairings: Kara Danvers x Reader

Tags: DJ!Reader, Concert, Humor, Fluff, Childhood Friends

Everything Taglist: @sammy90682 @nobody13 @owloftheshadows @captain-josslett @camslightstories @worldovart @finleyfray @acertainredhead @sammm9068

The thing about being a DJ was that the kind of music that you liked to create was severely underrated. Most people thought of it as beeps and bloops, random, nonsensical noises that shouldn’t even be classified as music. So far, your favorite description of it was ‘the sounds of transformers having sex.’ That one still made you giggle. It was a pretty creative description indeed.

What started as making sounds on your computer and soundboards, turned into regularly performing concerts with your own unique setup. One thing that you liked about your concerts was that it contained two things. Your music, which was intuitive, and interactive lights that flashed to the beat of the song. Eventually, you pushed it further, striving to break the mold, and make it even more fun. You created your own electronic drum set that played a different noise every time you hit the pads with drumsticks. It was nothing too complicated, just a setup of of several pads, all chest height when you stood, and all surrounding you in the shape of a crescent moon. Every time you hit the pad, a sound would play, and different colored lights would flash. That was how you programmed it all, and because you loved the lights, you got drumsticks that lit up too. You loved what you did, and you loved that other people loved it too.  

Another thing you liked to do was wear a helmet. You wanted people to like your music, not you necessarily. Their focus should be what they listened to and not the person who was behind it. Sure, artists should always get credit for their work, that wasn’t the statement that you were trying to make. It was that you didn’t need to be seen in order for your music to be heard. No one truly knew what you looked like, and they still showed up to your concerts. There were a couple other artists who did the same thing you did, like Marshmello and Daft Punk.

Your mask, which functioned more as a helmet, fully encompassed your head. It honestly was a matte black motorcycle helmet that was splattered with different paint. You chose neon colors that glowed vibrantly in the black light that illuminated the stage, and then to add some more personality, you lined the contours and edges of the helmet with flashing, adhesive LED lights. Sometimes from the crowd, you looked like a dancing head with drumsticks that flew across the drum set. There would be lasers that danced in the sky, and the crowd was known to bring glow sticks. In short, it would turn into a rave.

You were preparing for a concert now, checking your equipment and sound systems, and as the crowd began to file in, you disappeared back into your assigned stage room to grab your helmet. You were in National City, your hometown, which you haven’t been in for a while now. It felt natural to be back home because you missed it. It was towards the end of your tour around America, and it felt good to end it here, where all your friends and family were. You grabbed your helmet and broke out the paint supplies that you had to touch it up really quick. You added more splatters and made sure that the tinted visor was clean so that you would be able to see out of it.

You were just putting the finishing touches on it when a knock came on the door. The stage manager popped his head inside and looked at you.

“Five minutes,” he said before leaving and closing the door behind himself.

Five minutes. That was just enough time to put the helmet on and position yourself on the stage. When you left, you took several deep breaths, your nerves rattling around inside of you, and anxious energy fueling your every step. It didn’t matter how long you did this, or how many concerts you performed. You always got nervous. You flexed your fingers repeatedly as you took your position behind your drum set, and to ease the jitters, you grabbed your drumsticks and twirled them between your fingers.

It was a cool night. The wind gently blew around you, offering some reprieve on your warm and sweaty skin. You looked up to see the waning moon, usually bright and luminous, but not so much so because of the tint on your visor. You took a deep breath as a voice came over the loud speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you’ve asked for them and they delivered! Here to play the last of their tour in their hometown of National City, I introduce, Lazer Beatz!”

The crowd went wild as the lasers and colorful lights switched on to dance hypnotically in the night air. You raised your drumsticks over your head, watching as they lit up colorfully in your grip. The crowd screamed as they began to chant your name.

“Lazer Beatz! Lazer Beatz! Lazer Beatz!”

You smiled, bringing the sticks down hard on the pads, watching as the lights and sounds caused everyone to go haywire. You hyped the crowd, only producing a few sounds at a time, watching as the resulting kaleidoscope of colors washed the cheering bodies in front of you. You did that for a few minutes more, using the moment to loosen your shoulders and neck before you actually started playing.

You started with a simple beat and then began to add more sounds until you were twisting and turning, hitting all the drum pads in an impressive display of rhythm and fluidity. As a result, the crowd was washed in a variety of blues, greens, pinks, and other colors. Slowly, the nervousness inside of you dissipated, and it was replaced with excited energy as the song really got going. The crowd jumped to the beat of it, pumping their arms up and down as they waved their glow sticks.

You laughed as you looked at them all. Your drumsticks were still a flurry of movement before you, and you looked out into the crowd again. Your eyes took in the faces of the front row before halting, your breath coming out in a gasp when you saw someone that you didn’t expect to see ever again. Kara Danvers. There she was, in the front row surrounded by others that looked to be her friends. You watched with your mouth open, as she danced to your music, her blonde hair bouncing around her as she jumped with the crowd, and even with the multitude of colorful lights that flashed around everyone, you could still see her beautiful clear, blue eyes, as bright and deep as sapphires, staring straight at you with excitement. You hadn’t seen her since you both graduated high school together. She stayed in National City to go to college, whereas you left. National City was great, but you didn’t want to stay there forever. You wanted to get out and see the world. You ended up going to an international university to get a degree in music theory and composition, and well, the rest was history.

Seeing her now, brought back all the fond memories that you had of her and your friendship with her.

*** You were 17 when one day, Kara decided to drag you out of your house and forced you to stargaze with her. It was something she did often, which surprised you because you wondered if she ever got tired of looking at the same old stars night after night. She would respond with no of course, because to her, it was like staring at tiny, little miracles. How could someone be tired of that?

Kara was the true miracle, though if you complimented her in any way, she would deny it. She was a beautiful person, inside and out. She treated everyone with kindness and her smile could light up any room she was in. She was naturally funny, and riveting. You swore that sometimes, she was too good to be true. It was no wonder that you developed a crush as you spent more time with her. You couldn’t help but look at her fondly as she gazed at the night sky with wonder.

“I hope you know that I’ll always want to be in your life,” she murmured softly, and you felt your heart almost leap out of your chest through you mouth.

You felt the same way, no matter how she chose to be with you. Either as a best friend, or even something else if she should ever want it, you were happy to just be with her, to bask in everything that was Kara Danvers.

*** You still remembered that moment, clear as the night sky above you, and you blinked. There she was, and you still couldn’t believe it. This was happening, and she was gorgeous, the time aging her beautifully, spectacularly. You had to see her up close, and you stepped on a pedal below your drum set to loop the music so that you could run to the edge of the stage. As you did so, the crowd screamed, cheering wildly. Kara seemed to realize that you were approaching her and she stopped jumping, her eyes growing wide in shock especially when you held out your hand. She knew it was an offer to get on stage with you, and her friends cheered her on excitedly. You wanted them all up there with her, so one by one, you pulled them all up, her and her friends, until they all joined you on stage.

You laughed at their silliness. They were enjoying themselves as they laughed and shook their glow sticks. As you were about to run back to your place and grab your drumsticks, a soft grip on your shoulder stopped you, and you turned to face your childhood friend. Kara. She was breathing heavily, her hair sweaty but her eyes bright and her perfect smile even brighter. She was just as you remembered her. Flawless.

“Thank you so much for this!” she yelled over the music. “I’ve been a huge fan of yours for years now!”

It was now or never, and she watched, her breath hitching, as you began to take off your helmet. Shock morphed into recognition when your face was finally revealed to the world.

“I’ve been a huge fan of yours too,” you replied back to her.

“Y/n?”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled from your chest at her reaction. Her eyes were comically wide, and her mouth hung open. Kara was at a complete lost for words, confused sounds tumbling from her lips as she tried to make sense of what was happening. You winked at her, put the helmet back on, and went back to your drum set. Picking up the sticks, you kept playing the moment you ended the loop.  Kara joined you at your side to watch you play, and she shook her head slowly, still trying to gather that her best friend from high school was Lazer Beatz, the DJ whose music she loved so very much.

“Can we hang out soon?” she asked you and you nodded.

You already planned to spend more time with her after the concert.

*** You, Kara, and her friends were back in your stage room, eating snacks and drinking water after the concert ended.

“So how do you know Lazer Beatz?” Winn asked. He was dressed in yellow and pink neon clothing and had a multitude of glow sticks adorning his body. He, too, was covered in sweat but he was still excited. He bounced up and down with energy and you smiled politely at him.

“We went to high school together,” Kara answered. “Oh! Where are my manners? Y/n, this is Winn, Lena, Nia, and of course you remember Alex.”

You waved at Kara’s older sister, who waved back, before continuing with the introductions.

“Then there’s Brainy, J’onn, and Kelly. Everyone this is Y/n.”

“Hi, Y/n!” they all said in unison and you laughed, waving back.

“Did you guys all like the concert?”

“Pshhh, yeah!” Nia said, her face in playful disbelief that you would even ask that.

You smiled, satisfied that they all enjoyed themselves. Kara took your hand and pulled you further away from her friends to speak with you privately.

“If you’re not doing anything after this, maybe we can go get a coffee or something? Just to catch up?”

You blushed, your eyes ducking shyly as you chuckled. It was like someone had read your diary and granted all your wishes at the same time, and you nibbled your lip as you looked at her. She really wanted this, or else she wouldn’t have asked, you knew that. So, you smiled and nodded.

“Yeah?” she asked as her hopes grew.

“Yeah,” you said, your smile growing.

Kara laughed, happy that you said yes, and when she turned around to face her friends, they all whirled around to face the opposite direction, all of them pretending like they weren’t just eavesdropping. It was like someone screamed ‘act normal!’ and they were all doing ridiculous things that made the situation anything but. Alex and Kelly pretended to be deep in a conversation. Brainy grabbed a glow stick from Winn and started to talk about all the chemical properties that made them glow. Nia’s eyes were glazed over in boredom, but she made a show of listening to the explanation. J’onn and Winn started talking about video games while Lena pretended to take a phone call. The whole situation was hilarious, and you couldn’t stop yourself from wheezing with laughter. Kara smirked, love and adoration rolling off from her in waves at her friends, but her expression was one of annoyance.

“I know you guys were listening!”

[mattbflatt-loves-starset]

UNFINISHED: STARSET’s Hidden Gem

With their new album releasing just half a day ago, STARSET has added a bunch of new songs to their collection of beautiful work, all of which I love so dearly. From the singles released, you can really tell that this album is going to be an absolute banger. Their creativity seems to have no end, and this album release has been anticipated by their audience for literal months now. In this blog post, I am going to dissect one track in particular, which I feel is a hidden gem. It’s a track that hasn’t been talked about a lot, and I think it deserves some more love. Without further ado, let us dissect this track, which is actually NOT from the album released today… get bamboozled.

Did I get ya? Well I hope I did, unfortunately I actually haven’t had a chance to listen to the new album HORIZONS yet, so that’ll have to wait. The hidden gem I am referencing comes from their album VESSELS. This is the track that concludes the whole album, called “Everglow”. There is a lot to this specific track that is underappreciated, so if you’ve made it this far, take a seat, grab a snack and drink of your choice, and relax as we take this song apart and reveal the magic that lies underneath.

To start things off, here’s a fun fact. Everglow is STARSET’s longest released song to date, having a runtime of 7:56. It’s almost an eight minute song! This makes room for a lot of goodness, and within this time, there are multiple sections that each sound distinct in their own way. We’ll call the first 1:46 of the song section one, which is a calm, purely electronic section with lead vocals. The very first virtual instrument, or synthesizer used already fits the title of the song, as it feels like wisps of light flickering in the dark, almost like fireflies. Dustin stays in his low-mid register as he sings in this section, which creates a very calm and almost sad feeling to start the song. The percussion is soft and not intrusive, and it disappears when Dustin first sings the word Everglow. This makes way for other synthesizers, which are fast, but also very quiet. They remind me of bugs or small creatures just darting around. In fact, this whole song gives me a foreign world kinda vibe. Like, you’re stranded on a planet in some unknown solar system, and this first section is just you observing all the crazy looking, bioluminescent wildlife. Something neat to also note in this section is how the pulse is felt. Almost the whole section feels like a nebular waltz, with a pulse that can be thought of in three. Boom tick tick, boom tick tick… just try saying those words out loud while listening. This is briefly turned on its head at 1:25, when these rising, almost surging synthesizers come in with a pulse that feels like it’s in two. What’s interesting is that the tempo of the song is exactly the same, the feeling just becomes more driving and uneasy, given this new idea of a “subdivision” or division of the beat in two instead of the waltz-like three. The three feeling returns at 1:34, when you hear the word Everglow again, as it is still in that waltz-like feeling. It’s a brief idea, but it’s also one that draws lots of attention.

This post is far from over! I was sick this week, but I’m finally feeling better, so if you read this far, stay tuned for the updates I will be posting later today! I have yet to talk about the remaining sections of Everglow, those being section 2: continued electronic music and building of motives, section 2.5: bridging the gap between the two halves of the song, section 3: the intense rock section, and finally section 4: the epic cinematic orchestral conclusion to both the song and the album! Thank you for reading this far!

[cno-inbminor]

request: “for akaashi (fluff preferably) based on la la lost you by niki?” for anon

a/n: this ended up being a mix of angst and fluff, mainly bc the song itself is pretty bittersweet. i tried my best, i hope anon still likes this though! 

genre: angst, fluff, gn!reader.

warnings: mentions/implications of sex and alcohol 

song in reference: la la lost you - niki 

-

Akaashi Keiji was one of the kindest souls to ever grace your life.

You distinctly remember the first night you met him. You and your friends had gone out to a bar in Koreatown on a warm October night. Bokuto, who was dating one of said friends, had invited his own to join. “The more the merrier!” He had howled and you had playfully rolled your eyes at him, but you were curious. On multiple occasions, he had spoken of his best friend and roommate who seemed endlessly busy and “never had time for fun”, and how much he wanted for you all to meet him. This was the one night that he would show, as he had just completed a massive project and felt that he deserved a night out.

Your fingers had been swirling the straw in your rum and coke when Bokuto’s eyes lit up at the person who had walked through the door. “Yo, Akaashi!” He had yelled, waving his arm around so flamboyantly that no one would miss it. And Akaashi Keiji had appeared.

He was ethereal.

LA was a hub for fashion, full of beauties walking down Sunset Boulevard as if it was their own runway. Yet this man before you was dressed in nothing but black, ripped skinny jeans, a black button down over a grey V-neck t-shirt, and you felt that he had stolen the show. His hair had been stylishly disheveled, but even the dim lights of the bar couldn’t hide the color of his eyes. Cobalt blue had stared into your own – you could’ve sworn he was looking right into your soul, but the contact was short-lived as Bokuto stood and pulled him in for a bro hug. The tiny smile on his face had conveyed that he was content in being here, and he left to go get a drink from the bar.

When he returned, the only available seat was across from you. One by one, Bokuto rattled off your names, to which you all had either waved or shook his hand. You settled for the latter with your brightest smile, and when sparks of electricity coursed through your vein at the contact, you did your best to hide its effects on you. Perhaps he had felt the same, but you’ll never know now.

It had been a fun night. Your nerves were getting the best of you, going through your drinks a little faster than usual. On your third glass of rum and coke, Akaashi had taken the liberty of getting a glass of water for you, even ordering a couple of appetizers for the table. “You never buy me food!” Bokuto had cried out while stealing some of the kimchi fries.

“Idiot, who does most of the cooking at home?”

“Okay, maybe, but still! What’s the occasion?”

“I’m expecting a big bonus after this project,” Akaashi had pointed out, though perhaps the tips of his ears were pinked. “Take advantage of my generosity, it doesn’t happen very often.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. You’re always nice, and you know it.”

Akaashi had purposefully placed the basket of onion rings in front of you, gesturing for you to take the first one. The rest of your friends had curiously watched the interaction, their knowing grins widening when Akaashi watched you intently bite into the fried appetizer and smiled when you expressed your approval.

Akaashi had been the one to take care of you that night, though you were adamant in walking around first to sober up. He had no problem driving, only a couple of beers in his system, but you wanted to ensure that it was completely safe for him. At the time, you also just really wanted some pastries from the nearby bakery and Asian bakeries were practically heaven -- nothing could convince you otherwise. With little inhibitions, you had taken the plunge and linked arms with him, practically dragging him in the right direction. You had missed the blush on his cheeks, and to most others, you two looked like any other couple enjoying the night.

He had indulged in your rambling and broken thoughts, carrying on an easy conversation with you. He had even paid for the slice of a chocolate Swiss roll cake you wanted, getting a cappuccino to-go for himself.

“You have to let me pay you back,” you had grumbled in the passenger seat of his car: a dark grey, modest Toyota Corolla that was a few years old, added to the picture you were trying to paint of him. “Even if you’re expecting a bonus, I wanna make it up to you.”

“Take my number then,” he replied without missing a beat, his eyes bored into his phone while typing out your address into the navigation app. “Or Venmo, but I can’t guarantee that I won’t try to return it to you.”

“So I have to make excuses to see you then,” you mumbled under your breath. But Akaashi must have the hearing of a bat, because right after you had said those words, he had chuckled and looked over at you with a twinkle in his eyes.

“You don’t need to.”

And thus began a wonderful three-year relationship.

-

You honestly wish it had been a more painful break-up. Perhaps it would’ve made you miss him less.

Akaashi had been watching you sleep, your naked body wrapped in his sheets and his finger lightly tracing circles on your arm. The action must have woken you up, your body stirring and eyelids fighting exhaustion. Akaashi’s heart melted at the smile you offered him – as much as you had referred to him as an angel, he felt that nothing was more beautiful than the sight before him shrouded in the rays of the California sun. “Good morning, love,” he cooed.

“G’morning, Keiji,” you mumbled and snuggled into him. His arms wrapped around your waist and he planted a kiss on your nose, causing you to giggle. If he could have you here for eternity, he’d trade over his soul in a heartbeat. “What’s our plan for today?” You sleepily asked.

“I can make some breakfast, if you’d like. Or we can go get some dim sum?” He proposed.

“Hmmm, as good as dim sum sounds, I want to make breakfast for you, y’know. A little thank you for last night.”

“Enjoyed it that much?” He smirked, eyes drinking in the number of love bites he had left on your body.

“Don’t get cocky,” you teased, booping his nose with a finger before you rolled out of bed. Akaashi appreciatively watched the scene before him, especially as you bent over to pick up the button down he wore the night before and discarded on the ground. You rifled through his drawers to grab some clean underwear you purposefully left there, sliding it on before leaving for the kitchen.

About twenty minutes later, Akaashi had wrapped his arms around you from behind, watching you flip pancakes. His chin rested on your shoulder and his lips occasionally left kisses on your neck. The sinking of lead in his heart began to grow heavier, even as you handed him a plate, butter and syrup already put on just the way he liked it. It wasn’t until you were almost done eating when he had broached the topic.

“They’re giving me a promotion.”

You had paused in sipping your coffee. “Keiji, that’s amazing! You’ve been working so hard for this, I’m so proud of you!”

“I know, it’s great to finally be acknowledged. But…they want me to move. To New York City.”

“Oh.”

Akaashi gnawed on his bottom lip in anxiety, watching all the emotions process on your face. He watched you struggle to find the right words, and his heart dropped when you mustered the best supportive smile you could.

“Let’s make the most of the time we have left then.”

In those few months, Akaashi began to understand the different measurements of time. No longer was it measured in just seconds and minutes. Akaashi began to measure it in the number of days he could still hold your hand, the number of times he could pull you in a hug, the moments when you would lean over the back of his chair to observe his work. How many more kisses could he leave on your cheek? How many more smiles would he see in person before they were just in an electronic screen?

In all fairness, the two of you had tried to make it work. But with his promotion, he had been busier than ever, completing projects, building rapport with his new team, getting used to the city. Coupled with your own hectic life, a 3-hour time difference was just enough to drive a nail into the coffin. There was no fighting, no screaming. Just calm acceptance that perhaps, this wasn’t going to work out.

“I’m so sorry,” he had whispered over the phone, nearly on the verge of tears.

“It’s okay,” you had softly replied and Akaashi wanted to explode. To you, there was nothing he could do wrong. Everything was always okay with you when it came to him, and for once, he wanted you to tell him it wasn’t. He didn’t have the gall to voice his frustration – after all, wasn’t it his fault anyways?  “Keiji, just…let me know if you ever need anything, okay? I’m here for you.”

“You’re too good to me,” and that was his way of acknowledging you. The phone call ended with gentle goodbyes, yet it took every cell in his body to not fling the phone against his apartment wall.

5 months later, you find yourself driving down Highway 1 on a fall afternoon. Though it’s full of curves and loops, the journey is freeing and calming with the view of the ocean right by you. There is serenity in the waves that crashes against the cliffs, and nothing is more beautiful than a California sunset. Even though the wind often howls over the sea and blows your hair into a disarray, you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Your hands steer your car into a resting spot and shift the gear into park. The keys leave the ignition and you collapse into the back of your seat, eyes turning to appreciate the view in front of you. Just like the many other days since, your mind drifts to thoughts of Akaashi.

Does he regret breaking it off? Does he miss you as much as you do him? Does he wish that he had fought harder for your relationship?

You almost laugh to yourself – Akaashi had always loved driving to places with you, one hand on your thigh and the other on the steering wheel. The number of times he had taken you to the Malibu beach to watch the sunsets was astronomical in your three years. Yet he had traded it all for the shadowy undergrounds of the New York subways, his car sold to help with moving expenses, and walking through the crowded streets. The closest he would ever get to driving was sitting in taxis, but stuck in traffic with a stranger was, perhaps, less than ideal for him. New York City is charming in its own way, you agree. But LA was different, and LA was where it had all begun for you two.

Akaashi often gets tagged in pictures with other women, their grins wide and skin glinting from the flash of the camera. Whether they’re co-workers or new partners in his life, you can’t help but wish for his happiness. There was little reason to be bitter, to hope that he experiences the pain of missing what he lost. You only wished that New York City had truly welcomed him into its embrace, treating him with the same love you had given. After all, it was very unlikely that he would ever return to the city of angels. Your inner demons would become solely yours to deal with, nothing for him to worry about any longer.

And for the first time in months, you felt at peace. You were ready to take the leap and regain the last piece of closure. Fishing your phone from the cupholder, you felt lucky that you still had a couple of bars of signal – it’s not too late in New York, and Akaashi would most likely still be awake. Your thumb taps and scrolls across your screen until you find his number, hesitating slightly before hitting the call button. Too nervous to hold the phone to your ear, you turn on the speaker and hear the dial tones echo in your car.

There’s a pause, a click, a rustle of papers, then, “—hello?”

A small smile graces your complexion, your eyes catching the view of the sun setting over the horizon of the ocean. The pang in your heart was akin to the feeling of missing a platonic friend rather than an ex-boyfriend. You were healing.

“Hey, Keiji. How are you doing?”

fin

[dekuscrybaby]

dancing bachata with him

pairing(s): iwaizumi x reader, nishinoya x reader, bokuto x reader, yamaguchi x reader, tendou x reader, oikawa x reader (all separate)

requested: no; just self-indulgent writing and i wanted a reason to listen to bachata

word count: 2.6k+ words

warnings: slight manga spoiler (timeskip)!! wrote this as gn as i could, but thought of a f!reader when i wrote it, sorry if i offend anyone. dancing gets steamy and suggestive. mentions and implications of sex, not proofread at all

a/n: i added some songs that i felt vibed with the character so feel free to listen to them if you want. gets repetitive at one point. this is also my second time trying to post this so uhhhhh apologies 

iwaizumi:

the birthday boy!!

so this man, i just know he knows how to dance bachata

i mean he went to uni in california, there’s a ton of hispanics and latinos there bro

i know for a fact he befriended one of them and by default, he was dragged to a party at one point

which is exactly where you are right now

you and iwa were invited to a mutual friend’s little sisters quince

so, you’re both sitting at a table as the music is roaring through the sound system

the moment iwa hears romeo santo’s voice begin to ring through the room, he’s instantly standing up, stretching his hand to you

propuesta indecente or odio vibe mega hard with this man

“let’s go”

“go where?” you asked, not really expecting iwaizumi to be into dancing

“dance, of course. unless you don’t want to?” a nervous expression was on his face now.

“you know how to dance to this type of music?”

“of course i do, i’m what you call cultured”

so you take his hand and walk onto the dance floor with him

you kinda know the basics of the dance style so you’re not too nervous when you get into your own space of the dance floor 

he put his hands in front of his body, a hint for you take them as he slowly began to lead you in the dance

you both kept your distance at first and you couldn’t help but admire the sensual way his body was moving 

you both moved in accordance to the songs beat before he pulled a quick on you

he intertwined your fingers on one hand and allowed his other hand to travel down your waist

feeling extra confident in himself, he pulled you into his body and slotted one of his thighs between your own

not stopping your movements whatsoever

“wasn’t that awfully smooth of you, mr. iwaizumi?”

“you already know it. gotta keep you on your toes, no?” 

to which you laugh at bc being with him is already a treat in itself 

definitely has you wrap both your arms around his neck so you can be closer

he has one arm hanging lowly your waist while the other sneakily settles onto your upper thigh

very smooth and touchy man

iwa makes sure to hold you so incredibly close while smoothly maneuvers you both across your little spot on the floor

he definitely spins you when he finds it necessary

would for sure end up kissing you during a song

maybe a cheesy ass dip at the end, even if doesn’t seem to fit the song

all in all, 1000000/10 dance partner

would let him maneuver me any way he wants 

nishinoya:

this is gonna be so self-indulgent so apologizes beforehand

so, in my head, noya travels the world a lot

and he’s a latin/hispanic king in the eyes of many so yes he’s visited various of these countries. you go along with him too ofc

and yes, he can dance bachata and various other dance styles 

unlike iwa, he’s a lot intimate about this bc he’s the ultimate simp

he’d do anything to have your body pressed tightly against his own

especially if you’re wearing something irresistible 

also unlike iwa, he vibes best with prince royce bc in my head they’re both like more upbeat and wholesome? idk if that makes sense but it does in my head

def incondicional or darte un beso vibes

BUT if he’s feeling frisky that night, definitely see te robaré

mans would not ask you if you want to dance

he’d DRAG you out to dance

strong believer that it’d be a good first for your relationship bucket list

“yuu, where are we going?”

“to dance, duh.”

“you didn’t even ask me though…”

“don’t have to! i know you’ll love it.”

“love what?”

“this.” he instantly pulls you into his body, wide smirk on his face 

there’s virtually no space between you two

can’t even slip a piece of paper between you two

your breath hitches at the close proximity, you can feel his breath against the shell of your ear

who knew noya could be this smooth?

your mind is definitely thinking of other activities but you come back to earth when he begins to dance to the beat

one, two, three, (four)

one, two, three, (four)

he makes sure to keep you in beat

while also making sure he can feel every ridge of your body on his own

your arms are wrapped loosely around his neck

has his around your waist

he likes sneaking playful gropes in your ass or even waist if he wants to be more innocent 

mans is touchy touchy, that’s the way to describe him easily

LOVES to spin you and also loves to be spun 

your full body is in motion with this man and you’re not going in just one direction, you’re moving every which way (very organized tho)

sneaks in kisses between spins

also an amazing partner and bc i am an extra simp for this libero i rate him a 10000000/10

bokuto:

also an honorary member of the hispanic/latino community

very very cultured man

he plays pro volleyball so he’s bound to travel to other countries

honestly, he’s never practiced bachata with a partner 

he has seen people do it though so he has a very general idea of how to dance it

bokuto is currently on an away game on a different country and he flew you out 

simp, you know?

you guys went to a club, destress a little and just let loose 

definitely vibes with monchy & alexandria bc the vibes are immaculate, especially on hoje en blanco and dos locos

anything that’s fast-paced and all-around energetic is perfect for mr. bokuto

also does not ask you to dance

but instead of just dragging you, he pleads for you with his eyes

puppy dogs before glancing between you and the pile of bodies dancing

you HAVE to take the hint or else he’ll be really bummed out

bokuto: 🥺👀🥺

you: ???

bokuto, in bold: 🥺👀🥺

you sigh at this, “kou, would you like to go dance?”

”i thought you’d never ask, babe! c’mon let’s go!” he’s literally beaming

you’re dragged away right after that

similarly to noya, he loves having your body pressed to his

but bc he’s not as experienced, he keeps you at a safe distance so he doesn’t accidentally step on you or something

that changes once he gets more confident

or when he sees a couple do something he wants to try with you

also loves to spin you

loves pressing your back to his chest and dancing like that for a bit before spinning you back around so he can see your pretty face

holding onto your hips and helping guide them just the way he likes

loves pressing his thigh between your own, might make you come closer so he can feel you better

also likes groping you, with consent ofc

sometimes he gets too distracted with the way you’re moving that he loses count of the beat and ends up messing up

part of the distraction would come from him smooching you anytime he please which makes you guys stumble a few times 

that’s okay though

he makes up for his mistakes in energy and enthusiasm 

how would i rank this man? hmm

1000/10 very fun to be around so he’s a very fun dance partner 

yamaguchi:

hate to say it but mans does not know how to dance bachata

sorry yamaguchi stans, just had to to say 

man works in electronics!!!

hardly goes out as it is

but you eventually get him to leave the house every once in a while

one of those times being rn, at a co-worker’s party 

you honestly can’t remember what it’s for but there’s loud music playing 

also gives me prince royce vibes but like,,, early prince royce, ya dig?

i’m talking corazón sin cara and even soy el mismo bc bro y’all are soft

you’d have to take the lead with him for the first few minutes of the song 

maybe seconds bc he’s a quick learner, especially if he’s observing 

this man is the only one who’d actually ask you to dance before even trying to drag you out of your seat

he looks at you with these cute eyes bc man is love in with you

“do you wanna go dance? this song looks like fun.”

“ashi, do you know how to dance this type of song?”

“well, no, but i want to try with you. do you want to?”

who are you to say no?

so unlike the other three, he’s a lot sweeter and maybe even shy while you’re dancing

idk if y’all know but he’s basically a little kid trying to dance with you

you guys keep like an arms distance and probably do not get much closer 

you guys do move your arms around and bring them a tad bit closer to spice things up

but otherwise, you guys won’t get too close, especially bc this is his first time dancing bro bachata

lots of soft gazes

he looks at you like you’re the only person in the world and that shit’s cute

loves complimenting you as you’re both dancing

all in all it’s just a pure moment, nothing too spicy for the first time around or second for that matter

10/10 dance partner, learns quickly but still not too confident in himself 

tendou:

KING!! HE IS THE MAN IVE BEEN SIMPING OVER FOR A WHILE

cheeky mf would be so good at this

does he know how to dance it?

no

but he’s the fastest learner and also very very sensual with these sort of thing so he’s amazing

idk what he does as a profession but he’s still the same person from high school, just a tad more professional in the workplace

gives me the fattest aventura vibes (if you haven’t realized i don’t know much about bachata, murder me)

obsesión and el malo vibe or maybe even los infieles

very similar to iwaizumi and his way of dancing bachata 

but less smooth and more cheeky

very very cheeky

“baby, let’s go dance”

“yeah, give me a min-“

you do not get a minute, his big hand is already instantly wrapping around your arm to pull you up

“tori, do you even know how to dance to this?”

he laughs, “no, i’m smooth but not that smooth.”

you’re left a little confused but the moment he pulls you in tightly, your worries disappear

“just follow my lead,” he whispers in a seductive voice

he places on hand on your waist and the other holding yours just at your waist level

he instantly slots his thigh between your own and leads you guys through your spot on the floor

loves when you pop your hip to the beat

as every moment passes, he pulls you closer and closer

to the point where all you can breathe is his cologne and the alcohol in his breath

might lean down to press a few teasing kisses to your neck

mans might even grind his crotch down on your thigh

he wants to leave you as flustered as possible 

was this a plan for him to take you back home so he could ravage your body? maybe, but he won’t admit, that’s the fun in it

also loves to spin you but he does it outward so he can catch a full look of how you’re dressed

bites his lip when he sees you enjoying himself

ceo of dirty compliments in your ear as you’re both dancing

LOVES LOVES LOVES seeing your flustered face as you guys are so so so close

he’d for sure try and start a makeout session in the middle of the song

something about the passionate atmosphere between all the couples, really gets him going

also sneaks in gropes along with the grinding

once he realizes how much he loves dancing to this music, he wants to go out and do it more 

rate for this man? 

100000000000/10 broke the scale plenty of times 

i want to be his dance partner, please 😔😔

oikawa:

HE LIVES IN ARGENTINA 

HE KNOWS ALL ABOUT ARGENTINIAN CULTURE AND AND OTHER HISPANIC/LATIN COUNTRIES

YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE

anyway, he takes you guys to a bar as well

you’re visiting him so he has to show you the best parts of the country and this is the end of your day

the spanish music blaring through the speakers gets him in such a great mood bc he wants to have his own little spanish opera moment with you

also gives me aventura vibes but the lighter more romantic music of it

very playful with it

def un beso and dile al amor or even ella y yo if he wants to get spicy with it (even if it’s like a mix of reggaetón and bachata, maybe pop, idk i’m whitewashed 😔)

“my love, do you want to go and dance with me? i love this song.”

“since when do you dance, tooru?” you tease him

“i’ve been a cultured man since i’ve landed in this beautiful country”

“really now?”

“yeah, would you like a demonstration, y/n/n?”

YOU CANNOT SAY NO TO HIM

especially not when he’s looking down at you with this smug grin on his face

does things to you, ngl 

he pulls you up and instantly wraps an arm around your waist as he leads you towards the dance floor

he knows how to dance so he instantly rests his hand on your lower back 

takes the lead without telling you, you have to have faith him and his skills

sways you both PERFECTLY in beat

his other hand is at his side but he is not stuff at all

his body is loose with it, just the way it should be

asks you to wrap your arms around his neck maybe even asks you to hold onto his cheek and give him a smooch

has you giggling the entire time bc he’s such a dork but he’s your dork

 SPANISH SPANISH SPANISH

he sings the lyrics to you in such a quiet voice just for you two to hear

he has an accent when he’s singing bc it’s like his third language but it’s still the cutest thing ever 

also loves praising you in spanish or even giving you spanish nicknames

“te miras tan hermosa, bailando conmigo así, mi amor.” 

you either know what it means or you don’t 

if you do, you’ll blush and come up with an equally cute spanish compliment

“gracias, mi rey. te vas tan chulo debajo de esta luz.” (thank you, my king. you look so good/cool underneath this lighting)

or you don’t have a clue what he said but he said in such a low tone that you assume he said something nice

“i said that you look so gorgeous, dancing with me like this, my love.” he laughs at the lost expression on your face

his laugh is contagious so you end up laughing as well before leaning in to connect your lips, as the song begins to dwindle down 

also enjoys twirling you about when it’s appropriate, adds in to the giggly fun part of him as a dance partner

now, i’m not a simp for oikawa but i would simp for him over him if he offered to be my dance partner 

i rate him a 100000/10 for a dance partner

[sunshine-shitposts]

Twenty Second

Sunnie takes Dio out to dinner, unusually happy for some reason, and they enjoy good food together. Pure fluff.

TW: some drankin

=

Nights in the suite were usually lazy, with Sunnie either gaming or watching movies with Dio. He enjoyed their time together, and watching her slowly open up was quite rewarding.

Tonight, however, she was in her room.

He didn't question it as he read a particularly interesting book Sunnie had given him: The Elegant Universe, which discussed something called string theory. It was incredibly well-written, and he was about to turn another page when he heard her hum brightly as she opened and shut her bedroom door. She began walking down the hallway, some nonsense tune she'd invariably made up floating through the air.

She sounded like she was in a good mood.

She then stood in front of him, grinning widely and twirling the blue carabiner that she had her keys on with her finger, her other hand fisted on her hip.

"I'm in a good mood!" Sunnie said happily.

Ah, so she was.

"So," she continued, bouncing on her heels, "You should get dressed. We're going to my favorite sushi place."

"We are?" He asked, an eyebrow quirked upwards.

She nodded. "We are!"

And that was how Dio, dressed in a soft black button-up shirt (the first few buttons undone, of course), black slacks, and some new shiny shoes he'd purchased, was in the shotgun seat in Sunnie's oddly spacious little blue car.

The music in the car, in contrast with the heavy rock music he'd heard her playing in her room from time to time, was bright—some infectious dance tune that had her head bobbing and body swaying in time with the beat as she drove, smiling excitedly as she softly chanted "soosh, soosh, soosh" at various intervals. Dio wondered what exactly it was that had made her so happy, but chuckled amusedly as she bounced in her seat and pulled off onto a ramp heading north, and the music changed to something lower tempo, but still electronic. She hummed along with it, and a little while into the song, she began to giggle.

"Aaaaaah, here it comes, here it comes!!" She wiggled, and began singing with the music, "I promise to build a new world for us twoooo, with youuuu in the middle…"

And then the song exploded into bright, excited pulsing and drums, and she danced in her seat accordingly, grinning widely the entire time. He was impressed with her apparent skill at seat dancing while driving, he had to admit, but seeing her express her happiness so openly and so genuinely brought a smile to his face as well.

Fifteen minutes later or so, she'd pulled off the highway and onto a street that led them to what appeared to be a group of stores that were predominantly Asian, with a large grocery store that seemed Asian in nature as well. There were at least two dim sum restaurants that he could see, what looked like a small Korean bank, among other things like salons and cell phone stores. Sunnie took a left and drove to the outer section of the shops and neatly parked the car.

"We're here!" She chirped, shutting the car off and unbuckling herself, getting out of the car.

"A nice and easy drive," Dio remarked, exiting the car as well.

"Ever been to a revolving sushi place before?" She asked, shutting her car door.

Dio followed her as she trotted excitedly across the parking lot and through the light autumn rain to a door beneath a lit sign that said 'Kitsune' with a cute brushstroke fox next to it. "I have not, little bird," he hummed, "What's the occasion, if I may ask?"

"Oh, I got the courage to shut Vinh out of my bank account today," she laughed, face absolutely beaming, "so the meal's on me!"

He looked at her with a sly smile on his face. Good for her.

They reached the door, which Sunnie pushed open and they walked through, but not before Dio caught various people who were milling about in front of the stores and restaurants gawking at him–good, he always did love a little ego boost. The young man in all black at the front welcomed them and Sunnie happily gave her name ("Green, party of two, booth reservation!") and an employee came up to receive them and guide them through the restaurant.

It was dimly, yet warmly lit, the wood stained beautifully and the seats padded with dark leather, and, to his mild surprise, a winding conveyor belt throughout the main room. On the belt, plates with sushi covered by clear domes snaked their way around the room at a casual pace. Most of the seats were bar-style, but Dio saw, as they walked, several booth tables tucked away towards what seemed to be the beginning of the conveyor line.

The waitress sat them down at one of the booths and placed two drink menus on the table.

"Hi there, m'names Marissa, and I'll be helpin' you tonight!" She said in a sugary sweet voice, "Have y'all been here before?"

"I have," Sunnie smiled back as Dio inspected the moving plates with interest, "I'll explain it to him."

The waitress nodded. "I'll be back in a second for your drink orders!"

As she turned and left, Sunnie patted the table happily, turning his attention from the plates making their way past them to the small woman across from him. "So! Figure out what you wanna drink–"

"I already know what I want, my dear. Explain to me how this," he pointed his clawed finger up and twirled it around in a few circles, "works."

"Oh! Well, here's the revolving part of 'revolving sushi'," she said, gesturing to the moving sushi plates, "They're under these domes, see, but all you gotta do is grab the plate right here, under this little spot–" she reached up and grabbed a plate with her thumb under a semi-circle cutout on the dome, and the dome easily lifted up and she pulled the plate away and to the table, sliding it to Dio. "When we're done with it, we slide it into this spot down here," she pointed at a slot at the base of where the table met the wall, "and it tallies up the cost based on the number of plates. Simple?"

"Delightfully so," he responded, taking a pair of chopsticks out of their paper packaging, "Do you want one of these…" he looked down at the sushi in front of him and tilted his head.

"Kappamaki," Sunnie told him, getting her own chopsticks as well, "It's just a cucumber roll, nice and refreshing. But you can have those, I have a little ritual to carry out first…" she sat up on her knees and looked at a touch screen, scrolling through options and making a selection, "I always start out with niku udon. You make the selection on here and it comes to you on the linear conveyor belt above the sushi one. They have things like karaage, ramen, and you can also order specific sushi if they keep vanishing by the time they get to you, but since we're near the front of the line, that won't be a problem."

Dio picked up his first piece of kappamaki and popped it in his mouth, the bright crunch of the cucumber just as refreshing as Sunnie had said it would be.

"Is it good?" She asked, eyes sparkling, and he nodded.

"It is indeed," he responded, reaching for a shallow dish and pouring some soy sauce for himself, "If all of the choices are of this quality, tonight will surely be a feast."

Sunnie laughed. "No worries there, big guy, they're all really good, from what I know."

Marissa came back around and took their drink orders—Sunnie ordered a lemonade, and Dio opted for 'an entire bottle of your most expensive sake', and when Sunnie shot him a glare, he added sweetly, 'to celebrate'—and by the time their drinks arrived, Sunnie's niku udon had zoomed towards them on the linear conveyor belt. It was in a smallish stoneware bowl with handles and a second bowl on top, which she unclipped and removed to reveal a savory-looking broth filled with thick noodles, thinly sliced beef, scallions, and what Sunnie said was a 'kamaboko slice'. Dio smiled as she said an excited, "jaa, itadakima～su!" and immediately began digging into her dish, and he poured himself his first glass.

"So," Dio asked, sipping the sake, "Is this a date?"

She choked a bit on her udon, and he laughed as she swallowed, her face red and brows furrowed.

"Asshole!!!" She gestured accusingly at him with her chopsticks, "That noodle nearly went up my nose! Fuck you!!"

"You can take your time answering, dear, I don't mind."

"It's not that!! It's—you say things that throw me off!!"

He grinned smugly. "I do?"

She slammed her elbow on the table and pointed right at him, rising on her knees to stare him down closer. "Don't be a little shit. You know you do," she growled, narrowing her eyes at him.

His grin only widened, and his canines glinted in the low light.

"See??" She slapped the table, pointing again with eyes burning just as bright as her blush, "See??? You DO know!!!"

Dio laughed again, eating the second piece of kappamaki. "I do."

Sunnie sat back in her seat, leveling him with an intense glare before slurping down more udon and tearing almost viciously into a piece of beef, grumbling to herself.

"...So, is it a date or not?"

"No!!"

"If you say so."

"It's just to celebrate, and you're my friend. So I brought you," she stated, slurping up more noodles.

"Why not ask your other friends? You've said that you miss them," he asked, not taking his eyes off her as he pulled another plate of sushi without even glancing at the type.

Sunnie paused, brows furrowing in thought. "It's… I mean, it's just that you're basically the first person I can really share my whole life with." He raised an eyebrow, smirking, and she flushed again. "Not like that, Dio. Like… you know what's going on in my life. A lot of them don't, because I don't want to involve them. I don't have to hide that from you."

"You don't have to hide anything from me, Sunshine. Not your scars, not your bruises, not your Stand," he said softly, "Though at this point, I feel like it's in your nature to hide."

She stared at him blankly, tapping the end of her chopsticks on the table for a few seconds before breathing in, looking at her bowl, and slowly breathing out. "...You're not wrong." She slurped up the last noodles in her bowl, picking it up and draining the broth. "I've had to hide parts of myself my entire life. You know, 'don't tell people about what you can do, Sunnie. They wouldn't understand. People might try to hurt you'—remember, we're in the south. I'm not sure how much you know about things down here, but we've got an oddly high number of megachurches, especially in this area. There are plenty of people out there who, if they knew, would probably want to try to exorcise me. Not to mention, my parents worked for years to be able to adopt me. I overheard them a few times; they were scared I'd be taken by like, the government or something. I couldn't put them through something like that."

Dio watched her like a hawk as she reached up and grabbed a plate of three pieces of sushi before they passed by. "I didn't grow up with a Stand, actually," he said, pouring a little more sake into his cup, "I've never considered the implications of having such abilities from birth. It must have been hard to navigate, as a child."

Sunnie shifted in her seat, popping a piece of nigiri in her mouth and chewing for a moment before swallowing. "I mean, yeah, sort of. When you're a kid, imaginary friends aren't that weird, and the shit you say gets written off as you being over-imaginative. I only started understanding Windy's power and that no one else could actually see her when I was like, four, and by the time I was five, I knew to keep her hush-hush. I felt like a freak. Like in some way, I could never truly get to know anybody." After taking a long sip of lemonade, she sighed. "It's kind of alienating, y'know. There was always something that I would know but I couldn't say. I couldn't really be honest with my classmates."

"Was keeping such a big secret from them difficult for you?"

She shrugged. "I read a lot of comic books as a kid. Superheroes and stuff, y'know? And a lot of them had to keep secrets too. I always thought Superman's design was a bit basic, but I figured that if a country bumpkin journalist nerd could grow up without people knowing he could fly and shoot lasers from his eyes, I could do it too, so to speak."

He figured that made sense. As they took a few minutes to eat, he found himself looking back up at her over and over, before another question made its way out of his mouth before he could stop it.

"So," he broke the silence, an interested twinkle in his eye, "Tell me, aside from your spectacular secret keeping, how did you handle being a child with superhuman abilities?"

Sunnie, who was sipping her lemonade from a straw, nearly choked on her drink with snorting laughter. "Fuck, dude are you kidding? I was a menace!!" She grinned widely, snickering to herself. "So I have these family members, right? They call themselves Catholic, but they're this… like, really extreme…? I don't know how to describe it, but fuck I hate them. Except for one, she's kinda crazy in a good way. Anyways, so like," she settled back in her seat, absolutely beaming as she recalled the past events, "Carrie Anne, who's like my dad's cousin or something, she likes to pinch your cheeks and baby talk you and be weird and shit, so one time when we were staying over at their place when I was, like, six, I had Windy start to move things here and there. Small but noticeable, you know? A picture frame turned backwards, some flowers on the other side of the table. It drove her nuts. She rushed us out and cut the reunion short so she could try to get an exorcism or something."

Dio let loose a deep laugh. "Was it just them that you bothered?"

"Fuck no! Imagine, you're a wild child with the ability to not only control wind, but to also pull the sickest pranks of all time. That's exactly what you gotta do!" Her eyes sparkled mischievously. "At that point, it's an obligation. Rolling pencils off desks, tripping people I didn't like, just small little ways to make things fun and amusing for myself."

He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table and resting his chin on the top of his interlocked fingers. "Just small?"

"I mean, I did lose control a couple of times. Once when I was in second grade, some third graders made fun of one of my friends, so I climbed on top of the giant cement tube on the playground and waited to ambush them when they walked through it. We got into a fight, three guys against me, and after scrapping a bit with them, I blew them all off of me when the teachers ran up to separate us. It wasn't that bad, but it just sort of… happened."

"Heat of the moment?"

"Yeah." She ate another piece of sushi, chewing it thoughtfully before swallowing. "No one got hurt. Well, besides their pride. A girl a whole year younger than them took them all on. It was the talk of our grades for like a week. They didn't talk shit after that, though." She looked at him curiously, her head tilting to the side. "I know you're like, evil vampire man and all, but have you ever done anything dumb with The World?"

He hummed, eyes narrowing mirthfully as he took another sip of sake. "I once scared a French man shitless by repeatedly moving him down the stairs in stopped time when he'd try to ascend."

She barked out a laugh. "No one should hold that against you. He was French."

Dio chuckled, shaking his head.

The rest of the dinner was spent with good food and good company. Finally feeling full, Sunnie chose plain cheesecake as a dessert, and Dio indulged in some as well, at his companion's insistence. After the bill was paid (Sunnie's eyes bugging when she saw the price of the sake, then sighing and telling him 'You're lucky my job pays well, asshole'), they left the restaurant and drove back, the remaining sake in a brown paper bag that Dio happily carried. The return trip was spent conversing as well, music playing in the background and the occasional bout of Sunnie spitting frustrated curses towards particularly poor drivers.

When she crossed the threshold into their shared suite, Sunnie happily kicked off her shoes and took off her hoodie. "That was a fucking good meal," she hummed, satisfied.

"Indeed it was," he agreed, taking his shoes off as well and mussing his hair, "Here, little bird," he added, holding the bag with the sake out towards her. She looked at him and then the bag, surprised.

"Oh?"

"A gift," he continued, "A celebration of your new slice of freedom."

Her eyes met his again and her expression was blank for a moment before her face soured comically. "So you had me buy my own gift, basically."

"Yes," he chuckled as she took the bag from him, rolling her eyes.

"Welp. It's the thought, I guess. I'm gonna drink some of it, then." Placing her backpack on the hook she'd installed, she swept off to the bar. "You want a glass, big guy?"

"No thank you, dear," he responded, sitting by his favorite arm of the sofa and grabbing The Elegant Universe back up, opening to his bookmark, "I've had my fill for tonight."

"Right-o," she signaled, getting a small cup and heading towards the sofa as well, "How d'ya like that book, by the way?"

"It's quite fascinating, if I'm to be honest," he said, shooting her a dazzling smile, "Greene has a fantastic way with words."

"He does!! He's a lot like Carl Sagan, in that sense," Sunnie grinned back, pouring herself a bit of the sake and downing it easily, eyebrows raising. "Wow, smooth. But like, Greene is able to speak about complex scientific concepts in a very accessible way. It's something I strive for, especially when I was a STEM teacher. You can't introduce people to the wonders of science if they can't understand what the fuck you're saying."

"I suppose not," Dio nodded, "Is there any reason why you chose this book in particular for me, though?"

She shrugged, a sheepish look on her face. "I mean, you are from an alternate dimension. I thought it might interest you."

He considered her explanation for a moment, then tilted his head, amber eyes glittering with appreciation. "You thought correctly."

The next hour and a half was spent discussing various scientific topics as Sunnie made her way through some of the sake, relaxing more and more as time progressed. Her cheeks were beginning to become rosy, the tip of her nose a cute pink, and her words were blurring slightly into each other—but only a bit.

"See, so that's like, what I've always wanted to do," she stated matter-of-factly, chomping down on another sea salt and vinegar chip. "It's dumb but I wanna do it."

Dio shook his head as he looked up, shoulders shaking lightly with laughter. "Navel bacterial cultures," he said, amused, and she immediately puffed up to defend herself.

"It's interesting!! Everyone's belly button microflora is different!!" She thought for a second, and her eyes lit up. "Probably their ass cracks, too!!!"

Dio let out a deep and resounding belly laugh. "Darling," he said once he caught his breath, "I don't know how many willing volunteers you would get for a swab of their ass crack."

"I could do it if I paid 'em," she said indignantly, a smile on her face nonetheless, "Money. S'the great motivator."

"That's true," he hummed, laying back against the corner of the sofa. There was a comfortable silence for a minute between them before Sunnie spoke again.

"Happy fuckin' birthday to me," she mumbled happily as she took another long swig of the sake, finishing her cup, and Dio's eyes shot up to her, surprised.

Birthday? Did he hear correctly?

"It's been an insane journey around the sun this round, but I'm in a better place now, I think," she continued, eyes unfocused, "Better job, I'm away from that shitbag… Yeah, I'd say I'm doin' pretty well."

"Why didn't you say it was your birthday before, Sunshine?" Dio asked, confused. She just laughed warmly and waved her hand dismissively.

"Naaaw, well it isn't much of a big deal, is it," she responded, getting up to pour herself a glass of chilled vanilla rum. "Just another rotation around our closest star, another year on this complicated ball of rock… time passes. I get older. That's just how it is."

She walked back over to the sofa and took a drink of her rum before plopping back down.

"Hey, Dio," she looked at him expectantly, "Can we watch a movie?"

He regarded her for a quick moment before nodding. "Of course, darling."

"A horror movie?"

"Anything you wish."

She grinned and turned the TV on, pulling out her phone and switching to one of her apps. "Good, 'cause I have a good one. It's called Coherence. I mean, it's not horror horror, but it's a thriller. Horror themes. Sci-fi, too. It's an excellent low budget film." Her phone connected to the casting device, and Windy popped out, switching the lights off before returning into Sunnie. Dio was mildly surprised, however, when Sunnie scooted right up against him, snuggling into his side as she took another few gulps of rum. The movie began to load, and she looked up at him, cheeks flush from drink and contentedness. "Thanks, man. Tonight's been great."

Strange woman.

"It's always my pleasure, Sunshine," he replied, smiling. She hummed and turned to the TV, settling comfortably against Dio, who huffed a small laugh and brought his arm around her as the movie began to play.

The Twenty Second of October.

He'd make note of it.

[azpartygirlz]

Monday, November 1st, 2021

UNIFORM

with Portrayal of Guilt, Body Void, and REALIZE at Valley Bar (info/tix)

What if the antihero in your favorite film or book had no chance to repent, reconcile, or redeem himself? There’s no victim to rescue. There’s no evil to thwart. There’s no tyranny to turnover. Instead of saving the day against his better judgment, he just walks a Sisyphean circle of existential malaise doomed to repeat yesterday’s vices without the promise of a better tomorrow. Rather than tell this story on the screen or on the page, Uniform tell it on their fourth full-length album, Shame. The trio – Michael Berdan (vocals), Ben Greenberg (guitar, production), and Mike Sharp (drums) – strain struggle through an industrialized mill of grating guitars, warped electronics, war-torn percussion, and demonically catchy vocalizations.

“Thematically, the album is like a classic hard-boiled paperback novel without a case,” says Berdan. “It focuses on the static state of an antihero as he mulls over his life in the interim between major events, just existing in the world. At the time we were making the record, I was reading books by Raymond Chandler, James Ellroy, and Dashiell Hammet and strangely found myself identifying with the internal dialogues of characters like Sam Spade and Philip Marlowe.”

The lead-up to this moment proved just as intriguing as any of those characters’ exploits. Born in 2013, Uniform bulldozed a path to the forefront of underground music. Following Perfect World (2015) and Wake in Fright (2017), the group’s third offering, The Long Walk (2018), represented a critical high watermark. Pitchfork christened it “their most unified—and most deranged—record to date,” and The Line of Best Fit crowned them “vanguards within the genre.” In addition to touring with the likes of Deafheaven and Boris, they joined forces with The Body for a pair of collaborative albums – Mental Wounds Not Healing (2018) and Everything That Dies Someday Comes Back (2019) – as well as the live release, Live at the End of the World (2020). When it came time to pen Shame, Berdan made a conscious decision to include lyrics, marking a first.

“I wanted my words to carry a degree of weight on this record,” he says. “Books and cinema have always been integral to my life, and that is often because of how I relate to the themes and characters therein. I am naturally shy and terrified of being misunderstood. This time around, I endeavored to trudge through those fears in order to explicitly articulate what goes on in a dreary corner of my inner life. To put it plainly: I was in a dark place. It was the culmination of years of thinking everyone in the world was wrong, but me. I realized that I couldn’t control the attitudes and behaviors of other people, but it was my responsibility to look inward and fix what was there. I had to articulate what was going on in my heart, my head, and my soul. As I set about the task of writing everything down, I experienced exorcism. If I wanted any kind of reprieve, I had to let go of the narrative that the demons in the back of my head had been constantly whispering to me. For years I held onto my lyrics like personal diary entries. Now is the time for a different approach.”

This record marks the debut of Mike Sharp on drums, adding a natural fire to the engine. His presence grinds down their metallic industrial edge with a live percussive maelstrom. Once again, Greenberg assumed production duties behind the board at Strange Weather. Building on the approach from their last LP, the band perfected the powerful hybrid of digital and analog, electronic and acoustic, synthetic and actual that has become their hallmark. In another first, Mixing duties were not handled by Greenberg, but rather handed off to the inimitable Randall Dunn at his studio Circular Ruin. Of this decision Greenberg says, “On ‘The Long Walk’ we took a big step in adding live drums and guitar amplifiers. It was a stylistic departure but it had actually been the plan for years, we were just waiting for the right time to execute. The next logical step with ‘Shame’ was to hand off the Mix phase of production. An alternate set of ears in the Mastering phase is crucial to gaining a wider perspective and creating a powerful end result, I wanted to find a similar constructive collaboration but earlier in the process. Randall was the obvious choice, he has long been a teacher and mentor to me; Berdan, Sharp, and I have some all-time favorite records bearing his name. Randall and I have also worked in the control room together many times before - the Mandy OST, and co-Producing the recent Algiers LP ‘There Is No Year’ for example - so we already had an established workflow and shared aesthetics.”

The opener “Delco” fuses guttural distortion to haunting chants buttressed by muscular percussion. Short for “Delaware County,” the track reflects on Berdan’s upbringing in a suburb west of Philadelphia and “how beatings and bullying by these local hellraisers taught (him) how to keep his guard up and navigate a violent world.” Elsewhere, the jagged thrashing of “Dispatches” nods to “Alan Moore’s Batman: The Killing Joke and how thin the margin between personal stability and total collapse is.” Neck-snapping riffs kick “Life in Remission” into high gear as a spiteful scream spirals towards oblivion.

“The song is about people I’ve been close to who passed away and how I’ve become numb to death. A lot of these songs have to  do with an internal dialogue and overwhelming sense of fear, uselessness, and dread constantly whispering at me, ‘You’re not good enough. Give up and join those you’ve seen disappear and die.’”

The near eight-minute “I Am The Cancer” closes the record, as Berdan adopts the perspective of “The Judge” from Cormac McCarthy’s Blood Meridien, going so far as to crib his proclamation, “God is war; war endures”. In many ways, the title track “Shame” cements the core of the album with unhinged instrumentation and a brutal bark.

“It’s about self-medication not working anymore,” he admits. “This person is so tortured by internal ghosts from the past. He winds up pouring alcohol on his grief and guilt until he’s drowning. It was partially inspired by a Twilight Zone episode called Night of the Meek about a drunk, helpless department store Santa Claus who wants to make a difference, but feels incapable of doing so. That story has a happy ending. We’ll see about this one.”

It may not be pretty, but Uniform’s story is most definitely real. “All I can say is, I’m glad this exists,” Berdan leaves off. “It felt like something we needed to create. Just completing it is enough for me.”

[sinceileftyoublog]

Wobbly Interview: Going for Happy

BY JORDAN MAINZER

Thurston Moore Ensemble/Negativland band member Jon Leidecker has been releasing electronic music under the moniker Wobbly for over two decades now. In Chicago experimental label Hausu Mountain, he seems to have found kindred spirits, matching his far out idiosyncrasies. 2019′s Monitress and its follow-up, Popular Monitress, which came out earlier this month, are albums about and by machines, as Leidecker ran his music into pitch trackers and synth apps on his phones and tablets, embracing the errors and randomness that were produced along the way. While the source material on Monitress was mostly improvised, the songs on Popular Monitress are more structured and composed, resulting in songs like “Authenticated Krell”, which follows a comparatively clean synth arpeggio before being enveloped by texture, or “Lent Foot”, where the various instruments trail each other. It’s remarkable just how familiar certain sounds are even if not traditionally instrumental ones, like the typewriter clacks of “Illiac Ergodos 7!” or the zooming notes of the thumping title track. Blurring the lines between what’s instrument and what’s not, and even further, what’s composed music and what’s not, Popular Monitress is a defining statement for both Leidecker and Hausu.

I was able to ask Leidecker about various songs on the album and their inspirations. Read his answers below!

Since I Left You: You chose to write more structured songs this time around before running them through the pitch tracker. Do those nuggets of recognizable structures make the final product all the more disorienting?

Jon Leidecker: Hopefully! On both albums, the main thing is keeping the focus on just how live those pitch trackers are. It’s Monitress as long as you can hear how they’re listening. For years, it was strictly a piece for live performance--I needed to be improvising myself, and able to respond instantly, to really underline just how spontaneous the machine responses are. So the first record tried to keep more of that sense of flow. Large stretches of it are simply baked down from stereo recordings of concerts & radio performances of it. Overdubbing more layers of trackers seemed legal, as long all the voices were following that one original sound.

Of course, when you play a tune, something composed or even quantized, it definitely becomes easier to hear what they’re doing. The exact same code running on each phone will respond in very different ways to the same source audio, and you get a chorus of individual voices. They play a lot of wrong notes, but oddly, if you feed the trackers lots of consonant, major chords, it stops being dissonance, and you can tell they’re going for happy. You hear these weird things, trying to sing in unison, and..the result is just pure delight. Weirdly emotional! What’s a mistake? What’s music?

SILY: How did you come up with the song titles? For instance, is there anything particularly Appalachian about "Appalachian Gendy"?

JL: They’re mostly mashed up references to landmark works in the field of generative & algorithmic composition, from the 50’s up to the early 90’s. The recent push of stories on AI musical tools seems to be about automation and labor-saving, but the field of how to develop tools for more creative ends goes back all the way to Bebe and Louis Barron going to the Macy Conferences on Cybernetics and designing their first self-oscillating feedback circuit.

So while my tracks aren’t really in the musical style of the works they reference--something like  “Appalachian Gendy”, which sprung up a fantasy Spiegel/Xenakis tribute, got paired to that stompdown track, and once it did, I added a solo on iGendyn.

SILY: To what extent is your music here inspired by the inner workings of the brain?

JL: Once you get a grip on just how simply neurons and synapses interact, how reassuringly physical thinking is, the electronic music I’ve always found most inspiring often involve feedback systems, self-playing devices, generative music, things that learn rather than settle. Music that helps you model thought. The whole East Coast/West Coast 60’s divide in synth design boiled down to Moog reducing your options until you could easily dial in what you already know you want, and Buchla designing uncertainty machines to be networked together until they approach the complexity of an unknown brain.

SILY: "Synaptic Padberg" and "Every Piano" have moments of recognizable instruments as opposed to alien instruments (strings and piano, respectively). Was that just a product of the errors/randomness of the music-making, or purposeful?

JL: It's supposed to sound orchestral, so I hit my Mellotron and Chamberlin apps pretty hard with this piece. Not like anything remains plausibly real once they're getting hammered by the trackers. That is a real grand piano, however: me playing the tune at SnowGhost Music in Montana. Brett Allen deserves an engineering credit, but I also wanted the first listen to make you wonder.

SILY: There's almost a funky rhythm to "Motown Electronium". Do you envision folks dancing to this record?

JL: Would have been plain wrong to put that title on an unworthy beat. What would a room full of people dancing to this even be like? Maybe in Baltimore.

SILY: Do you think "Training Lullaby" is what a computer trying to write a lullaby would sound like?

JL: Not that relaxing, is it? That’s ten seconds pulled from a five minute live improvisation, just a little burst of fury in the middle. Which I’ve heard enough now that I can sing along to it; so now, for me, it is calming.

I finally had to admit to myself that I’m a fan of the OpenAI Jukebox stuff. It’s right at that stage where their results are still primitive enough to remain a little mysterious. All the context and relationships intrinsic to what humans call music is irrelevant to those GANs. They don’t need culture to make music, they just need waveforms. What does it tell us that simple pattern analysis and brute number crunching on a large enough data set can produce those sounds? They’re training us. I have twelve hours of their Soundcloud dump ripped to my phone, and I play it a lot, though I wouldn’t play it for anyone under four. Can definitely sing along to some of the weirder ones by now.

SILY: How did you approach the order of tracks on the record? I'm struck by, for instance, the chaos of "Grossi Polyphony" following the comparative lull of "Every Piano".

JL: Just trying to show the range, and keep the surprises coming. Perpetual variety becomes monotony so quickly, so there is a very careful balancing act to play between shorter and longer tracks. I like a record where on first listen, any new section that begins, you feel like there are no guarantees how long it’ll last, eight seconds or eight minutes. Even things that sound like they should be songs: no guarantees. I still remember the first time I heard The Faust Tapes as a teenager.

SILY: Did you actually use musical dice to write "Wurfelspiel"?

JL: “Wurfelspiel” is just name-dropping Mozart’s generative piece--again, a real piano, but no musical dice involved.

SILY: The beats towards the end of the album--the pseudo hip-hop of "Cope By Design", techno of "Dusthorn Sawpipe", krautrock of "Help Desk"--seem to me to be far more propulsive than anything else here. Do you see a connection between those tracks?

JL: The album hits you with all these miniatures in the middle to keep things moving, and those three are the last little barrage of them before the shift into the final stretch with the longer, more hypnotic pieces. Can be tough to sequence an album when you’ve got so many short tracks, but it’s also total freedom.

SILY: How did you like getting the Hausu Mountain album art treatment?

JL: Totally family. All the Monitress packaging has always been iPhone panorama mode artifacts, visual glitches not entirely unlike what my phone’s trackers do to what they hear. I gave one of those images to [Hausu Mountain co-founder Max Allison] to work with the cover of the first Monitress, and he sent back this image, saying, “Here’s the initial stage: Your photo reduced to color blocks I’ll carefully render out later.” So when the second hyper-detailed one came back in a more proper Hausu style, they already seemed like a sequence, and this second one was already in place, so it all clicked. Any version of Monitress, the music is different, but it’s always the same piece. I’m really happy they asked me for something. [Label co-founder Doug Kaplan] and Max are just coming from the good place.

SILY: Are you doing any live streams or socially distant shows any time soon?

JL: Multi-location live streams are a blast. The time modulation inherent in all streaming is deeply psychedelic. The kind of listening you have to do when you know that the relationship of sounds together in time is different for each musician involved? I’m learning utterly new tricks, and it’s astonishing just how live the result is. I sat in on a live stream with Thurston Moore Group a few months ago, the four of them in London, and me hooked up to an amp not far from where I normally am when I play with them. And everyone agreed: It felt like I was there, right up until the instant I quit the app.

I’ve been pre-recording some home live sets for Hausu, Curious Music and High Zero Foundation. Negativland is putting together an hour long performance with Sue-C for the Ann Arbor Film Festival in late March. I finished an album mostly recorded outdoors with my old friend Cheryl E. Leonard for Gilgongo, and we’re going to try to a few outdoor concerts, too.

SILY: What else are you currently working on/what's next?

JL: The second album with Sagan, with Blevin Blectum & J Lesser, is coming out in late April. That one took 14 years to finish. There’s a trio record with Thomas Dimuzio and Anla Courtis coming out on Oscarson. Doing a revision of the last episode of my podcast on sampling music, Variations, to incorporate that OpenAI music. Some Negativland releases tying together the last two albums. There are about four of five other albums that might be done, though it takes time to be sure.

SILY: Anything you've been listening to, reading, or watching lately?

JL: This month has been Maryanne Amacher’s collected writings, Keeping Together in Time by William H. McNeill, Ministry For The Future by Kim Stanley Robinson, important even with happy ending. Interview with Karl Friston - Of Woodlice And Men.  Listening to a lot of “Blue” Gene Tyranny, Xenakis & Lang Elliott, and last week every Ghédalia Tazartès album in reverse chronological order. I don’t care what anybody says: That guy’s immortal.

SILY: Anything I didn't ask about you want to say?

JL: Thank you for your questions!

Popular Monitress by Wobbly

[betweenthetimeandsound]

Three Minutes to Eternity: My ESC 250 (#220-211)

#220: Yiannis Dimitras -- Feggari Kalokerino (Greece 1981)

"Κοίτα τον έρημο γυαλό Σου ψιθυρίζω σ’ αγαπώ Τώρα θα χτίσω εκκλησιά Για της αγάπης τα τρελά παιδιά" "Look at the desolate seashore I whisper you “I love you” Now I’ll build a church For the crazy children of love" The opening shot, the rose on the piano, set the stage for such a romantic journey under the summer moon. And the soundscape created through the piano and instrumental throw us into this endearing scene, one which is also tinged with melancholy. Feggari Kalokerino is not only an ode to this beauty, but also an admission of craziness for falling in love. With such pretty lyrics, one can't help but get enveloped in this pretty world, where everything is so beautiful. The combination of Yiannis' singing and the woman's piano playing is also quite cute, albeit with some...interesting undertones to it. Either way, it's classical yet timeless.

Personal ranking: 3rd/20 Actual ranking: 8th/20 in Dublin

#219: Liliane Saint-Pierre -- Soldiers of Love (Belgium 1987)

“Neem elkaars handen Smeed nou die banden toe Hoor je die verre kreet? Geen mens vraagt dat leed” “Take each other’s hands Come on, weld those bonds Do you hear that distant scream? Nobody asks for that suffering” Top ten opening themes of anime, haha. It also helps that "Soldiers of Love" is the English translation for the song "Ai no Senshi" from Sailor Moon (which I've listened to many times but haven't gotten that far into the anime...). That said, Soldiers of Love packs a punch with the instrumentation and the high intensity of the melody. The lyrics are a powerful battle cry, albeit one which advocates for peace amongst people. There’s so much energy and determination in Belgium’s host entry, one would prepare themselves for battle for a good cause. Liliane really delivers this earnestly and with determination, though sometimes the military-style get-up stands out to me the most when I watch it again. Though those two guitarists turning their ends as if they were firing guns is a cool thing to behold.

It's one of the host entries that is better than the song which one it for the country, which is something because J'aime la vie is considered a fan favorite.

Personal ranking: 6th/22 Actual ranking: 11th/22 in Brussels

#218: Beth -- Dime (Spain 2003)

"Cuántas veces te llamé en la noche Cuántas veces te busqué Por mis recuerdos yo vuelvo Y no pierdo la fe" "How many times did I call you in the night? How many times did I look for you? I return for my memories And I don’t lose faith" For some reason, Dime reminds me of "Die for You" from two years earlier--both feature modern pop bops with ethnic influences, both imploring about the state of a relationship (while they both want to make it wor. And they're both in the same key! At the same time, Dime holds its own as one of the strongest 2000s entries from Spain. They had similar flamenco/Latin inspired entries in 2001 and 2004, which were highlights in rather mediocre years because of their uniqueness overall. But the guitar flourishes here work well with the dance beat, and it provides its own fun.

Personal ranking: 3rd/26 Actual ranking: 8th/26 in Riga

#217: Svala -- Paper (Iceland 2017)

“Drawing every bit of my truth Colour me in with your blue” I didn’t actually pay attention to this song in the follow-up to the 2017 contest. I also didn’t watch the semi-finals, which could’ve led to me neglecting the song entirely otherwise, especially I've heard a lot about Blackbird during that time. However, the summer after the contest, I discovered the song and listened to it. And I liked it! (And then I got hooked with Svala's other songs through her different groups) I was interested particularly in the lyrics, which discussed a fight between one’s mental demons and anxiety. I like the English version more than the Icelandic one; the latter is a bit more optimistic on winning against the battle whereas the former really takes the issue seriously. The production, while a bit staid, added to the feeling of helplessness with its electronic coldness. The staging also tries to incorporate this, though it didn't work in making it stand out. (I did like Svala's cape and makeup, though!) While I do love "Hear them Calling" a lot, I had a more interesting journey with Paper--it grew until it became something I highly enjoyed. Personal ranking: 6th/42 Actual ranking: DNQ -- 15th in the first semi-final in Kyiv

#216: Live Report -- Why Do I Always Get it Wrong? (United Kingdom 1989)

“You can do what you want to do now...” Honestly, this has to be one of my favorite British entries ever. While "Go" from the previous year gets a lot of acclaim because of its songwriting and Scott's performance (along with how it ended up second in the end), "Why Do I Always Get it Wrong?" is better on how it envelops a mood and could actually be found from this era (though it sadly didn't do too well commercially afterwards, sigh)

Whenever I do something wrong, or self-hate, this is the song I turn to a lot. The synthesizers drew me in—it fit well with the late 1980s-early 1990s sound elsewhere. It's also helped that Celine performed "Where Does My Heart Beat Now" earlier in the contest, which piqued my interest. And while Ray’s ponytail was a choice, it didn’t distract from how he delivered the song.

Despite getting more 12-points, it ended up losing to Yugoslavia by just six points that year. While not my favorite that year, I think it was the better one of the top three; it equally reflects the times and holds up!

Personal and actual ranking: 2nd/22 in Lausanne

#215: Tommy Nilsson -- En Dag (Sweden 1989)

“En dag vi alla förstår, En dag, när stillheten rår, En dag jag finner din hand, När vägarna möts förstår vi varann,” “One day, we all understand, One day, when silence rules One day, I find your hand When our roads meet, we will understand each other�� My two favorites from 1989 are sonically different, diverging between despair and hope. I listen to "Why Do I Always Get it Wrong" a bit more, but "En Dag' would stand out for me in a few different ways, more from being just the optimistic song of the two.

The intro features really good brass, which leads way to the fun instrumental. I like how it builds, and Tommy’s interplay with the backing vocalists is incredibly strong. You get a sense of energy from the both of them as they send the song to new heights.

Basically, it's just glorious!

Personal ranking: 1st/22 Actual ranking: 4th/22 in Lausanne

Final Impressions of 1989: It's a pretty fine year, both in songs in production. There are a number of good songs there, though not many classics which hold out in the long-term (except for Vi maler byen rød, which became famous in Denmark and even became the premise of a musical!). Highlights include an overactive conductor from Turkey, two children, and an awesome interval act involving a crossbow!

#214: Bang -- Stop (Greece 1987)

“Ότι κάνεις για δόξα και λεφτά Δες τι χάνεις, αλλού είναι η χαρά”

“Whatever you do is for fame and money See what you are missing, joy is somewhere else”

I’ve heard this song compared to Wham’s output, especially with its vintage rock-n-roll sound (wake me up before you go go). This doesn’t make it any less bad, with its charming tone and thoughtful lyrics about how a girl who only wants material goods should stop chasing them.

(This is another reason why sometimes, the original-language version is better that any other one--the English version to this song has goes on a completely different tangent)

The performance also falls into vintage aesthetics, with the suits for both Thanos and Vassilis and sock-hop style dresses for the backing vocalists. It's really cute, and the way they dance fits the scene.

On another note, apparently Greeks saw this as a favorite at the time, can someone verify that?

Personal ranking: 5th/22 Actual ranking: 10th/22 in Brussels

#213: Guy Bonnet -- Marie-Blanche (France 1970)

“Nous sommes là dans une douce quiétude Nous avons mis fin à notre solitude Nos corps apprennent de tendres habitudes Et Marie-Blanche est à moi”

“We’re there in a soft stillness We’ve put an end to our loneliness Our bodies learn tender habits And Marie-Blanche is mine”

By 1970, chanson was on its way out; in its place was folk, rock-n-roll (spearheaded in France by Johnny Halladay, who has a great French version of "House of the Rising Sun"), and psychadelia. Within France itself, some of the #1 singles from that year include Comme j'ai toujours envie d'aimer, Let It Be, and Bridge over Troubled Water (a total masterpiece, I tell you).

So, what does one make of Marie-Blanche, in this case?

It's a really sweet love poem, in which Guy declares his love for the girl. and conveys a particularly cute scene. Whenever I listen to this, I envision two lovers cuddling inside while watching the snow fall during the winter. There's a sense of magic and serenity in all this, and the lyrics match the pretty piano melody.

Basically, hits are important to keep the contest alive. But songs like Marie Blanche can pull on the feels in the right ways.

Personal ranking: 2nd/12 Actual ranking: =4th/12 in Amsterdam

#212: Justyna -- Sama (Poland 1995)

“I czuła się tak marnie Poczuła się tak marnie Jakby Bóg, dobry Bóg Nie lubił pcheł..”

“And I feel poor Feeling so poor As if God, the good God Didn’t love little fleas...”

If 1994’s To nie ja represented something classic and hopeful, 1995’s Sama takes it and reverses it. (And in the grand Eurovision timeline, they're only separated by the last song of 1994, Je suis un vrai garcon from France) Instead of a young woman filled with life and singing a decent ballad, we have another one pondering herself, all alone, with nobody to help her.

Also, this is more of an acquired taste with its out-of-tune recordings and Justyna’s scream. But it doesn’t feel out of place within the 1990s, with its alternative influences and production, and I like Sama a lot for that!

Unfortunately, it also caused it to do substantially worse, which is simultaneously explainable and baffling. A good result would've made waves for future Eurovision entries; the 1990s are my favorite decade, but they did misalign quite a bit from the mainstream.

Personal ranking: 7th/23 Actual ranking: 18th/23 in Dublin

#211: The Shadows -- Let Me Be the One (United Kingdom 1975)

"You and I could have an affair/make sweet music, go anywhere"

Isn't this lyric really charming? I couldn't help but have a little giggle because of it; there's a sense of naughtiness (especially with choosing "affair"; are they trying to something illicit?) underneath it.

That said, The Shadows are mainly known for their instrumental rock, but Let Me Be the One has a neat melody line. The rock-n-roll vibe, which could be released within that decade, is light but lovely, and added a jolt of uniqueness to the otherwise poppy contest up to that point. The flubbed line in the beginning ("let me be the one who literally holds you tight", haha) adds to the whole thing, but they were able to carry on, nevertheless.

And while I like all the 1970s winners to some extent, I would switch out "Ding-a-Dong" for Let Me Be the One in terms of winners vs. runners-up; like with Sama, it could've changed the contest in a positive way.

Personal ranking: =3rd/19 Actual ranking: 2nd/19 in Stockholm

[shemakesmusic-uk]

Work Wife share new single ‘Plastic Windows’

The second release from Brooklyn-based indie artist Work Wife (solo project of singer/songwriter/multi-instrumentalist Meredith Lampe), ‘Plastic Windows’ is a catchy lo-fi indie pop tune diving into a far darker matter: the sensations and images that rise up at the beginning of a panic attack. The idea came to songwriter/engineer Lampe when she was walking through a neighborhood of Seattle called Madison Valley.

She says: "It was one of those beating-back-your-anxiety-with-a-stick kind of walks, where you go outside hoping to quell a rising sense of anxiousness before it builds up too much. I passed a house under construction  that had one of those temporary plastic coverings over the windows, and the wind was blowing against it and it was straining at the points where it was taped to the house. I love stumbling upon objects or scenarios that provide a really pointed visual metaphor for an intense feeling that you're trying to describe in a song--this was one of those times. In "Plastic Windows,: I describe my panic disorder using a couple different metaphors, and the writing process of finding these concise little pictures that describe my feelings does a lot to help me to cope in the moment. For some reason, being able to convert my formless feelings into physical and visual things is comforting, perhaps because it allows me to explain them to other people in a way I know they'll understand immediately.

“As I was working on production for the track I took some inspiration from the 2020 Bartees Strange album where he melds a bunch of different genres. The first Work Wife single was more electronic / drum-machine leaning and I wanted to show some versatility and make something a little more guitar-focused and beachy. I'd been listening to a lot of Faye Webster and Mac Demarco at the time, so I tried to bring in some more chorus effects and detuned synth kind of stuff to give it that vibe. As a newer producer I'm also using this project to sort of prove to myself that I can make different styles of music and still be really happy with the result. I wanted it to feel like a hot day in a small empty beach town, when you can't see the ocean yet but you know you're near the water only by the smell and the way the vapor in the air feels on your body--that's what anxiety feels like to me, this thing that you can sense coming closer without really being able to put into words how you know.

“My bandmate in Colatura, Digo Best, has been a really great producer/mentor to me since I started this project. I'm too picky to let someone fully produce my tracks so I end up doing a lot of it on my own. Digo sends over ideas and feedback, and he's a big tone snob (in the best way) so he makes sure all the parts i'm playing have the right vibe. I got my pal Daryl Cozzi, who actually used to be my drum teacher when I first moved to the city, to write and record the drum part. I'm obsessed with Daryl's groove -- he's in a few country rock projects and I love that his drum parts have a bit of that influence. I hadn't bought a bass yet when I was recording this so my boyfriend Justin Buschardt wrote and recorded the bass part for me. The synths are all of these Roland software clones that I've been using a lot lately, they're supposed to be pretty authentic replicas of the physical Junos they're emulating. And the horns I added super last minute but am so into -- I'm excited to keep messing around with them in new music going forward."

Work Wife · Plastic Windows

Photo credit: Justin Buschardt

[dustedmagazine]

Dust Volume 6, Number 13

Trees

It’s four in the afternoon and already getting dark, a foot of snow on the way. One year is nearly over — and yes, we’ve got some essays on that coming up after the holiday break — and another one is taking shape in our inboxes, mail chutes and hard drives. But for right now, let’s take another look at 2020, doubling back on the records that caught our ears without exactly fitting our schedules, the ones that almost got away. Here are the usual free improvisations and long drones, hip hop upstarts and cowpunk also-rans, a harpist, a cellist, a tabletop guitarist and at least one stellar punk record that has us hoping for sweaty live music again in 2021. Contributors this time included Bill Meyer, Bryon Hayes, Andrew Forrell, Patrick Masterson, Jennifer Kelly, Jonathan Shaw, Arthur Krumins, Ian Mathers and Ray Garraty, heck let’s call it a quorum, and see you again in the New Year.

Mac Blackout — Love Profess (Trouble In Mind)

Love Profess by Mac Blackout

Mac Blackout owes his surname to his membership in the Functional Blackouts. That’s a garage combo that was once the subject of an article about how they’d been banned from various venues on account of the destructive chaos of their live performances. But you can’t do that forever, and nowadays Mac’s a painter and solo recording artist. His latest sounds are unlikely to make anyone want to put a chair into the mirror behind the bar, but they might send you flipping through your record collection, looking for the sounds that you and he have in common. Love Profess opens with a burst of piano-pounding, sax-overblowing free jazz, but that lasts for about nine seconds before it gets swallowed by some John Bender-worthy synth throb. Give “Wandering Spheres” a couple more minutes, and Mr. Blackout goes full La Dusseldorf on us. By turns spacy, spooky and seriously compelled to vent nocturnal loneliness, this half-hour long LP is both as familiar and as unknown as a well-shuffled deck of cards.

Bill Meyer

 Ross Birdwise — Perfect Failures (Never Anything)

Perfect Failures by Ross Birdwise

Vancouver-based electronic improviser Ross Birdwise rails against spatio-temporal norms. The concepts of tempo and rhythm are malleable in his universe. Architecturally, Birdwise is Antoni Gaudí, working in fluid lines to build incomprehensible structures. With Perfect Failures, he leaps even further away from the orthogonal grid of musical construction, dissolving beats into grains of sound. The warped rhythms found on Frame Drag are divested in favor of an approach that more resembles electroacoustic composition. As a matter of fact, the title track comes on like a digital recreation of a piece of classic musique concrète. Birdwise avoids venturing into purely ambient territory yet borrows some signifiers from the genre: keyboard melodies, elongated tones, washes of sound. He overlays these seemingly innocuous elements with crashes of noise, oblique jump cuts and hyperkinetic sequences, constantly forcing us to shift focus to make sense of his soundscapes. The febrile nature of the music is what intoxicates, but the discordant melodies are what enthrall.

Bryon Hayes

 C_G — C_G (edelfaul recordings)

C_G by C_G

Belgium-based French electronic artist Eduardo Ribuyo (C_C) and Israeli drummer Ilia Gorovitz (Stumpf) join forces on C_G, a one-take collaboration of molecular machine noise and improvised percussion. It opens as a slow creep, Gorovitz playing minimal rhythms that sound like someone walking through the pre-dawn streets of an awakening city. Ribuyo accretes whirrs, cracks and electrical pops to evoke the dread of a night not over. On “Normalising Cruelty,” for instance, the discomfort builds, the drums tumble in flight, the noise intensifies. The relative conventionality of the percussion tracks seems intentional and serves to focus attention on the granular details Ribuyo conjures from his machines. Think the experiments of similarly minded Mille Plateaux and Raster Norton artists. When played through headphones at volume, its full queasy Room 101 buzz and grind squirms most effectively into the brain. Easy listening this is not, but if and when home gatherings resume this would be an ideal way to clear the house.

Andrew Forell

  Che Noir — After 12 EP (TCF Music Group)

If you’ve been paying attention to hip-hop in the last few years, Buffalo’s Griselda camp has dominated the “old heads” conversation away from whatever the kids are vibing to on TikTok. But there’s life away from an Eminem partnership, and not just in the form of Benny the Butcher: Witness Che Noir, who has been on fire throughout 2020. After starting off the year with the 38 Spesh-produced Juno and following it up with the Apollo Brown-produced As God Intended, Che’s closing things out with this self-produced seven-song EP that covers a wide range of territory without dipping into tales of street hustling, just the age old struggle to get some respect. “Hunger Games” is an early highlight that shows her chemistry with Ransom and 38 Spesh, while she completely takes over in speaking to the times on “Moment in the Sun,” which is the clear emotional highlight of the EP. Amber Simone’s pleading chorus on closer “Grace” is another stylistic turn and closes things on a high note. The last words you hear are Simone’s as she sings, “Imma go get it”; the lingering effect is that you know Che Noir is already showing you as much. Miss this one at your own risk.

Patrick Masterson 

 Cong Josie — “Leather Whip” b/w “Maxine” (It Records)

Leather Whip / Maxine (AA single) by Cong Josie

Frankie Teardrop rides again in this smoking synth punk single from Australia’s Cong Josie. “Leather Whip” is about as menacing and minimal as synthesizer music gets, braced by the hard slap of gate-reverbed drums and a claw-picked bass sound (maybe electronic?) and Cong Josie’s whispery insinuations. “Maxine” is just as stripped, with blotchy bass sound and swishing drum machine rhythms framing a haunted rockabilly love song. It’s very Suicide, but isn’t that a good thing?

Jennifer Kelly

   Divine Horsemen — Live 1985-1987 (Feeding Tube)

Divine Horsemen “Live”1985-1987 by Divine Horsemen

With Divine Horsemen, Chris D of the Flesh Eaters had a brief but memorable run in vivid, gothic, country-tinged punk. This disc commemorates two red-hot live outings from 1985 and 1987, the first at Safari Sam’s in Huntington Beach, California, the second at Boston’s The Rat. A sharply realized recording shows how this band’s sound fit into the cowpunk parameters set by X, with strident guitar clangor and hard knocking rock rhythms (the ax-heavy line-up featured in this recording included Wayne James, Marshall Rohner and Peter Andrus on guitars, the Flesh Eater’s Robyn Jameson on bass). The secret weapon, though, was the ongoing and volatile vocal duel between the front man and his then-wife Julie Christensen, a classically trained soprano with an unholy vibrato-laced belt. You can hear how she transformed his art by comparing the Flesh Eater’s version of “Poison Arrow” with the one here. It’s as aggressive as ever, musically, and Chris D. is in full florid, echoey, goth-punk mode. Christensen, however, is molten fire, letting loose cascades and flurries of wild vibrating song. There’s a scorching, stomping romp through the vamping “Hell’s Belle,” and a lurid rendering of mad, howling “Frankie Silver,” and, towards the end, a muscular take on the Stones’ “Gimme Shelter.” Christensen later made a mark as one of Leonard Cohen’s favorite backup singers, and Chris D is still knocking around with a reunited, all-star Flesh Eaters, though there’s some talk of getting this band back together as well. I’d go.

Jennifer Kelly

 Dezron Douglas & Brandee Younger — Force Majeure (International Anthem)

Force Majeure by Dezron Douglas & Brandee Younger

Harlem harpist Brandee Younger and bassist Dezron Douglas faced down New York’s early months of quarantine with a series of live broadcasts recorded in their apartment on a single microphone. This document of intimate resilience collects highlights of the Friday ritual. Younger and Douglas perform covers of spiritual Jazz, soul and pop songs as well as the delightfully titled original “Toilet Paper Romance.” The music is so close you feel the fingers on the strings and frets. Younger’s harp playing is a revelation, pianistic on John Coltrane’s “Equinox”, pointillist yet robust on his “Wise One” which they dedicate to Ahmaud Arbery. Douglas provides vigorous and sympathetic accompaniment and his solo rendition of Sting’s “Inshallah” is a tender tough exploration of his instrument. Along the way there are lovely versions of pieces by, amongst others, Alice Coltrane, Kate Bush and Clifton Davis. Douglas closes with the words “Black music cannot be recreated it can only be expressed” and Force Majeure demonstrates that the same goes for humanity and creativity.

Andrew Forell

Avalon Emerson — 040 12” (AD 93)

040 by Avalon Emerson

It’s been a big year for Avalon Emerson, who started 2020 prepping a move from Berlin to East Los Angeles and ends it back home stateside with an almost universally acclaimed DJ-Kicks entry to her credit. This three-song 12” for the label fka Whities is a nice way to close out a triumphant year, illustrating her penchant for bright melodies and percussive detail. “One Long Day Till I See You Again” is a welcoming slice of beatless percolation to close; “Winter and Water” leans heavily on rhythmic tricks in the middle. That makes A1 “Rotting Hills” the ideal lead as a balance between them. There may not be so obvious a gimmick as a Magnetic Fields cover, but that makes it no less valuable for showing what Emerson can do. Call it one more fluorescent rush.

Patrick Masterson

 End Forest — Proroctwo (Self-released)

Proroctwo (The Prophecy) by End Forest

For some of us, the fusion of folk music forms with crust and metal mostly issues in obscenities like Finntroll (yep, a Finnish band that makes folk metal songs about…trolls) or in politically toxic, Völkisch nationalist fantasias. But some bands get it right; see Botanist’s remarkable work, and see also End Forest, an act just emerging from Poland’s punk underground. Singer Paula Pieczonka employs a traditional Slavic vocal technique that roughly translates to “white singing” — but before you get creeped out by any potential fascist vibes, please know that the “whiteness” at stake in the phrase is purely an aesthetic value. And her voice is really great, open and soaring. “Proroctwo (The Prophecy)” has the sweep and drama of a lot of contemporary crust, and all of the genre’s interest in symbolic violence. The lyrics envision a future wrought and wracked by social conflict, a coming conflagration of torn bodies and of piles of dislodged teeth housed in some horrific archive of viciousness (that’s quite an image). It’s harrowing stuff, big guitar chords accented by sitar and flute. The track is available on Bandcamp, along with several inventive remixes by Polish musicians and DJs, like Tomek Jedynak and Dawid Chrapla. End Forest indicates that a full record is forthcoming sometime in spring. Looking forward to it, y’all.

Jonathan Shaw

 Lori Goldson — On a Moonlit Hill in Slovenia (Eiderdown Records)

On A Moonlit Hill In Slovenia by Lori Goldston

Goldson creates movement and tension in an arresting way with a rough-hewn approach to the cello. This could be a good entry point to her solo work, which is varied and bridges the gap between DIY attitude and elevated levels of musicianship and considered approach. The flow of her playing here evokes the almost brutal scrape of the strings, which gives a welcome texture to the melodic squiggles.

Arthur Krumins

Hot Chip — LateNightTales (LateNightTales)

The LateNightTales series of artist-curated mixes has seen a fair bit of variation over the years since Fila Brazilia first took up the torch in 2001, which makes a certain amount of sense; how we spend our late nights can differ wildly, of course. Hot Chip’s instalment in the series hits some of the expected notes (at least one cover, in this case a deeply moving one of the Velvet Underground’s “Candy Says” they’ve been playing since Alexis Taylor and Joe Goddard were in high school together; a closing story track, in this case Taylor’s father reading a bit from Finnegan’s Wake) and otherwise depicts the kind of late night Dusted readers might be more familiar with than most; one where a clearly voracious and eclectic listener is keeping their own private party going just for another hour or so, but always keeping things just quiet and subtle enough to not wake up anyone upstairs. The three other, non-cover new Hot Chip tracks all make for standouts here but there’s plenty of room for accolades, whether it’s for the smoothly groovy (Pale Blue, Mike Saita, Beatrice Dillon), the more avant garde (Christina Vantzou, About Group, Nils Frahm) to just plain off-kilter pop (Fever Ray, PlanningToRock, Hot Chip themselves). The result works as both a wonderful playlist and a survey of the band’s sonic world; and it does work best when everyone else is in bed.  

Ian Mathers

Annette Krebs Jean-Luc Guionnet — Pointe Sèche (Inexhaustible Editions)

pointe sèche by Jean-Luc Guionnet, Annette Krebs

Annette Krebs and Jean-Luc Guionnet recorded the three long, numbered tracks on Pointe Sèche (translation: Dry Point) over the course of three days at St. Peter’s Parish church in Bistrica ob Sotli, Slovenia. Location matters because this music couldn’t happen just anywhere; Guionnet plays church organ. Krebs was once part of the post-Keith Rowe generation of tabletop guitarists, but since 2014 she has abandoned strings and fretboards in favor of a series of hybrid instruments called konstruktions. Konstruktion #4, which appears on this record, includes suspended pieces of metal, a handful of toy animals, a wooden sounding board, vocal and contact microphones and a couple touch screens that manage computer programs. While both musicians have extensive backgrounds in improvisation, this recording sounds more like an audio transcription of a multi-media collage. Guionnet plays his large instrument quite softly, extracting machine-like hums, brief burps and dopplering tones that flicker around the periphery of Krebs’ fragments of speech, distant clangs and unidentifiable events. The resulting sounds resolutely defy decoding, which is its own reward in a time when so much music can be reduced to easily identifiable antecedents.

Bill Meyer

 KMRU — ftpim (The Substation)

ftpim by KMRU

If you happened to catch Peel, Joseph Kamaru’s wonderful release on Editions Mego in late July, but haven’t paid attention before or since, early December’s half-hour two-tracker ftpim done for (and mastered by) Room40 leader Lawrence English is a Janus-faced example of the Nairobi-based ambient artist’s power. As Ian Forsythe put it in his BOGO review of both Peel and Opaquer, “Something that can define an effective ambient record is an ability to disintegrate the perimeter of the record itself and the outside world,” a line I think about every time I listen to KMRU now. “Figures Emerge” feels more immediately accessible to me as a relatable environment where the gentle, pulsing drone is occasionally greeted by sounds outside the studio, while “From the People I Met” is more difficult terrain, a distorted fog of post-shoegaze harmonic decay — no less interesting, but perhaps more metaphorical in its take on the outside world. (Or not, given how 2020 has gone.)

Patrick Masterson

  Paul Lovens / Florian Stoffner—Tetratne (Ezz-thetics)

Enough years separate drummer Paul Lovens and guitarist Florian Stoffner that they could be father and son, and Lovens membership in the Schlippenbach Trio, and Lovens role as drummer in the legendarily long-running Schlippenbach Trio establishes him as an august elder of free improvisation. But the partnership they exhibit on this CD is one of equals committed to making music that is of one mind. Whether matching sparse string-tugging to purposefully collapsing batterie or burrowing sprung-spring wobbles to an immense cymbal wash, the duo plays without regard for showing us one guy or the other’s stuff. The point, it seems, is to how they imagine as one, and their combined craniums generate plenty of imagination. They operate in a realm close to that occupied by Derek Bailey and John Stevens, or Roger Smith and Louis Moholo-Moholo, but their patch of turf is entirely their own.

Bill Meyer

  Mr. Teenage — Automatic Love (Self-Release)

Automatic Love by Mr. Teenage

Melbourne, Australia’s fertile garage punk scene has squeeze out another good one in Mr. Teenage, a Buzzcockian foursome prone to short, sharp riffs and sing-along choruses. A four-song EP starts with the title track, whose arch talk-sung verse erupts into rabid, rip-sawing guitar, like Devo meeting the Wipers. “Waste of Time” piles palm muted urgency with explosive release, with a good bit of the Clash in the crashing, clangor. “KIDS” struts and swaggers in a rough-edged way that’s close to the violence of early Reigning Sound or Texas’ Bad Sports. “Oh, the kids these days,” to borrow a phrase, they’re pretty good.

Jennifer Kelly

 Nekra — Royal Disruptor (La Vida Es Un Mus)

Royal Disruptor by Nekra

Remember punk shows? Remember half-lit, dusty basements and fully lit, dirty kids? Remember your sneaker soles sticking to scuffed, gummy linoleum? Remember greasy denim battle jackets and hand-drawn Sharpie slogans? Remember warm beer (watery domestic suds in cans and cups) and cold stares (angsty bravado and bad attitude for its own sake)? Remember anarchists arguing with nihilists, and riot grrrls arguing with rocker boys? Remember people laughing and people smoking and people shouting and people spitting, all without masks? Remember the anticipation that crisps the air when the amps switch on? Feedback from the cheap-ass mic stabbing your ears? Beefy dudes elbowing through the press of flesh? That volatile, stomachy mix of happiness and truculence? Those warm-up thumps of the bass drum and the initial strums of crackling guitar? Remember all that? For the time being, in the United States of Dysfunction, here’s the closest thing you’ll get: an EP of feral, fast punk songs that sound like they’re happening live, right in front of your face. Thanks, Nekra — I really needed that.

Jonathan Shaw

 Neuringer / Dulberger / Masri — Dromedaries II (Relative Pitch)

Dromedaries II by Keir Neuringer, Shayna Dulberger, Julius Masri

Yes, Dromedaries II is a sequel. It follows by three years a debut cassette which was sold in the sort of microquantities that 21st century cassettes are sold. So, it’s more likely that you have heard another of the bands that the trio’s alto saxophonist, Keir Neuringer, plays in — Irreversible Entanglements. While the two combos don’t sound that similar, they share a commitment to improvising propulsive, cohesive music that will put a boot up your butt if you get in the way. While IE focuses on supplying music that frames and exemplifies the stern proclamations of vocalist Camae Ayewa, the trio plays instrumental free jazz that balances individual expression with collective support. Neuringer, double bassist Shayna Dulberger and drummer Julius Masri play like their eyes are on the horizon, but each musician’s ears are tuned into what the other two are doing. The result is music that seems to move in concerted fashion, but usually has someone doing something that pulls against the prevailing thrust in ways that heighten tension, but never force the music off track.

Bill Meyer

Kelly Lee Owens — Inner Song (Smalltown Supersound)

One of the distinctive things about Kelly Lee Owens’ marvellous debut LP a few years ago, as noted here, is that it felt so confident and distinct that it could have easily been the work of a much more seasoned producer. That impression, of a deftly skilled hand at the controls and a keen artistic sensibility and taste shaping it all, certainly doesn’t recede on Inner Song, whether it finds Owens homaging the grandmother who provided support and inspiration (“Jeanette”), gently but firmly rejecting unhealthy relationships (the utterly gorgeous “L.I.N.E.”) or teaming up with John Cale to make some bilingual, deep Welsh ambient dub (“Corner of My Sky”). And that’s one pretty randomly chosen three-song run! Owens continues to excel at both crafting gorgeous, lived-in productions and maybe especially with her handling of voices (her own and others), and she’s comfortable enough in her own skin that if she wants to open up the album with an instrumental Radiohead version (“Arpeggi”) she will, and she’ll make it feel natural, too.  

Ian Mathers

San Kazakgascar — Emotional Crevasse (Lather Records)

Emotional Crevasse by San Kazakgascar

You won’t find San Kazakgascar on any map, but give a listen and you’ll know where this combo is coming from. Geographically, they hail from Sacramento CA, where they share personnel with Swimming In Bengal. But sonically, they are the product of a journey through music libraries that likely started out in a Savage Republic and sweated in the shadow of Sun City Girls. They likely spent time in the teetering stacks of music collections compiled in a time when the problematic aspects of the term world music were outweighed by the lure of sounds you hadn’t heard before. More important than where they’ve been, though, is the impulse to go someplace other than where they’re currently standing. To accomplish this, twangy guitars, rhythms that straighten your spine whilst swiveling your hips, bottom-dredging saxophone and a cameo appearance by a throat singer who understands that part of a shaman’s job is to scare you each take their turn stepping up and pointing your mind elsewhere. Where it goes after that is up to you.

Bill Meyer

     John Sharkey III — “I Found Everyone This Way” (12XU)

Has Sharkey mellowed? This early peek at the upcoming solo album from the Clockcleaner legend and Dark Blue proprietor suggests a pensive mood, with liquid jangle and surprisingly subdued and lyrical delivery (albeit in the man’s inimitable hollowed out and wounded snarl). But give the artist a power ballad if that’s what he wants. The song has a graceful arc to it, a doomed romanticism and not an ounce of cloying sentiment.

Jennifer Kelly

 Sky Furrows — Sky Furrows (Tape Drift Records/Skell Records/Philthy Rex Records)

Sky Furrows by Sky Furrows

Sky Furrows don’t take long to match sound and message. As Karen Schoemer drops references to SST Records and Raymond Pettibone, bassist Eric Hardiman and drummer Philip Donnelly whip up a tense groove that could easily have been played by Mike Watt and George Hurley. Mike Griffin’s spidery, treble-rich guitar picking is a little less specifically referential, but does sound like it was fed through a signal chain of gear that would have been affordable back in the first Bush administration. The next track looks back a bit further; Schoemer’s voice aside, it sounds like Joy Division might have done if Tom Herman had turned up, pushed Martin Hannet out of the control room before he could ladle on the effects and instead laid down some space blues licks. Schoemer recites rather than sings in a cadence that recalls Lee Ranaldo’s; pre-internet underground rock is in this band’s DNA. The sounds themselves are persistently cool, but one drawback of having a poet instead of a singer up front is an apparent reluctance to vary the structure; it would not have hurt to break things up with some contrasting passages here or there.

Bill Meyer

  Soft on Crime — “You’ve Already Made Up Your Mind” b/w “Rubyanne” (EatsIt)

7'' by Soft on Crime

These Dublin fuzz-punks kick up a guitar-chiming clangor in A-Side, “You’ve Already Made Up Your Mind,” which might have you reaching for your old Sugar records. Sharp but sweet, the cut is an unruly gem buoyed by melody but bristling with attitude. “Rubyanne” is slower, softer and more ingratiating, embellished with baroque pop elements like flute, saxophone and choral counterpoints. “Little 8 Track” fills out this brief disc, with crunching, buzz-hopped bass and a bit of guitar jangle under whisper-y romantic vocals. It’s a bit hard to get a handle on the band, based on such disparate samples, but intriguing enough to make you want to settle the matter whenever more material becomes available.

Jennifer Kelly

Theoxinia — See the Lapith King Burn (Bandcamp)

See the Lapith King Burn by Theoxenia

Students of Greek mythology will grasp it right away, but in the internet age, it doesn’t take anyone long to figure out that when you name your record See the Lapith King Burn, you’re casting your lot for better or worse with the party animals. The Lapiths were one side of a lineage that also involved the considerably less sober-sided Centaurs, and the two sides of the family had a bloody showdown at a wedding that has been taken to symbolize the war between civilization and wildness. Theoxinia is Dave Shuford (No-Neck Blues Band, Rhyton, D. Charles Speer & the Helix) and his small circle of stringed instruments and low-cost repeating devices. If you were to dig through his past discography, it most closely resembles the LP Arghiledes (Thrill Jockey) in its explicitly Hellenic-psychedelic vibe. But, like so many folks in recent times, Shuford has decided to bypass the expanse and aggravation of physical publication in favor of marketing this LP-sized recording on Bandcamp. If that fact really bugs you, I guess you could start a label and make the man an offer. But if fuzz-tone bouzouki, sped-up loops and unerringly traced dance steps that will look most convincing when executed with a knife between your teeth and the sheriff’s wallet poking mockingly out of the top of your breast pocket sounds like your jam, See the Lapith King Burn awaits you in the realm of digital insubstantiality.

Bill Meyer

 Trees — 50th Anniversary Edition (Earth Recordings)

Trees (50th Anniversary Edition) by Trees

This boxed set presents the two original Trees albums from the early 1970s, The Garden of Jane Delawney and On the Shore, with the addition of demos and sundry recordings from the era. Here the band took the UK folk rock sound emergent at the time and drew it out into its jammy and somewhat arena rock guitar soloing conclusion. It’s good to have all of this in one place to document the myriad ways that Trees wrapped traditional material into new forms and with a bracing, druggy feel.

Arthur Krumins 

 Uncivilized — Garden (UNCIV MUSIC)

Garden by Uncivilized

Guitarist Tom Csatari presides over NYC-based large jazz ensemble known as Uncivilized, whose fusion-y discography stretches back a couple of years and prominently incorporates a cover of the Angelo Badalamenti theme from Twin Peaks. This 27-track album was recorded live at Brooklyn’s Pioneer Works space in 2018 with a nine-piece band, who navigate drones and dances and the multi-part Meltedy Candy STOMP, a sinuous exploration of space age keyboards and surging big band instruments. Jaimie Branch, who lives next door to Csatari and was invited on a whim at the last minute, joins in for the second half including a smoldering rendition of the Lynch theme. It’s damn fine (though not coffee). Later on, Stevie Wonder gets the Uncivilized treatment in a pensive cover of “Evil,” led by warm guitar, blowsy sax and a little bit of jazz flute.

Jennifer Kelly

 Unwed Sailor — Look Alive (Old Bear Records)

Look Alive by Unwed Sailor

Johnathon Ford, who plays bass for Pedro the Lion, has been at the center of Unwed Sailor for two decades, gathering a changing cohort of players to realize his lucid instrumental compositions. Here, as on last year’s Heavy Age, Eric Swatzell adds guitars and Matthew Putnam drums to Ford’s essential bass and keyboard sounds. Yet while Heavy Age brooded, Look Alive grooves with bright clarity, riding insistent basslines through highly colored landscapes of synths and drums. The title track bounds with optimism, with big swirls of synth sound enveloping a rigorous cadence of bass and drums. “Camino Reel” is more guitar-centric but just as uplifting, opening out into squalling shoe-gaze-y walls of amplified sound. Ford, who usually leans on post-punk influences like New Order and the Cure, indulges an affinity for dance, here, especially audible on the trance-y “Gone Jungle” remix by GJ.

Jennifer Kelly

 Your Old Droog — Dump YOD Krutoy Edition (Self-released)

Dump YOD: Krutoy Edition by YOD

American rapper Your Old Droog has been releasing solid music for years. He never had ups for the same reason he never had downs: he never left his comfort zone. Dump YOD Krutoy Edition (where “krutoy” stands for “rude boy” or “badass”) may be his breakthrough album. He always kept his Soviet origins in check, and here for the first time he draws his imagery from three different sources: New York urban present, Ukrainian folk and Soviet and post-Soviet past (even Boris Yeltsin makes an appearance). In this boiling pot, a new Your Old Droog is rising, among balalaikas and mean streets of NYC, matryoshkas and producers with boring beats, babushkas and graffiti writers.

Ray Garraty

[blindrapture]

DJay’s Introduction to Autechre Masterpost

So, what’s Autechre? Who’s he when he’s at home?

There’s two men from England’s north, they have no formal music training, they met as graffiti artists in the 80s, one of them’s into audio engineering and the other’s into architecture, and over the years they released a lot of music together. That’s all I got.

Autechre (aw-tech-er) make weird music. The early stuff is considerably less weird, especially by today’s standards-- it’s mainly just.. electronic. But there is a lot of it, and it’s overwhelming to get into their discography. But I’ve been doing this journey for a few months, and I found it helped to keep a text file where I wrote short bits to help me remember/distinguish all the songs. And I mean it really did help, this has made it a lot more fun for me. The least I can do is share the file.

(Before we start: We do all know what an EP is, right? If not: It’s like an album/LP, but not called an album/LP. They’re usually a lot shorter, but it’s up to the artist.)

Here’s the general format for what you’ll be seeing:

A L                 A B                R U                T M

Autechre, xth album/EP, year of release

Album title: GENERAL DESCRIPTION FROM MY TEXT FILE [Context that I am adding specifically for this post.]

[LINK TO BANDCAMP PAGE FOR FULL RELEASE] track 1 (Song Title) description goes here. track 2 (Soing Ttel) description of one instrument sound + accompanying instrument sound like the drum beat or something track 3 (Tittg Elson) description of how it sounds at first, description of how it sounds when it next changes track 4 (tits noe) description, 1:33 something specifically starts here, 4 min something happens in the general fourth minute

Finally, I will include Cavity Job in this post because it’s just two really early tracks and I don’t want to dedicate a post to that. Everything else will link to a separate post, because links are fun!

Cavity Job: HIGH-OCTANE EARLY 90S ELECTRONIC AMBITION [1991, their first release under the Autechre name. This is, like, in no way representative of their later stuff, but it’s made of mixes and samples and is pretty fun to dance to.] track 1 (Cavity Job) is a banger, "we want to dance for a long time" track 2 (Accelera) has more flow but is a lovely banger

Now, links! With loose descriptions, to pique interest.

Album 1: Incunabula: MOODS

EP 1: Basscad,EP: EXPLORATION OF A THEME

EP 2: Anti EP: INTRODUCING THE ELEMENTS

Album 2: Amber: SHIT, THIS IS ACTUALLY REALLY GOOD

EP 3: Garbage: INTERESTING TEXTURES

EP 4: Anvil Vapre: AN INTERPRETATION OF RAVE

Album 3: Tri Repetae: FUCKING MOOD, CHILL ELECTRONICA

EP 5: Envane: THE DANCE-Y TRANSITION

Album 4: Chiastic Slide: EXPERIMENTAL MOOD, FAIRLY CLASSICAL

EP 6: Cichlisuite: CLASSICAL SUITE STRUCTURE, TECH AESTHETIC, THEMES

Radio 1: Peel Session 1: CHILL BEATS

Radio 2: Peel Session 2: NOISE BEATS

LP5: KINDA EASY-LISTENING ELECTRONICA NOISE, FEELS CONCEPTUAL ART AS HECK

EP7: CONTINUES LP5 BUT I PREFER THIS

Album 6: Confield: CONCRETE GHOSTS

Single: Gantz Graf: THE NOISE IS THE SINGER

Album 7: Draft 7.30: AN INTERPRETATION OF A HIP-HOP ALBUM

Album 8: Untilted: COMPLEX TECH BEATS AND SUBTLE SOUNDS, REFINED

Album 9: Quaristice: THE MIXING IS GODDAMN EVOLVED

EP 8: Quaristice.quadrange.ep.ae: A QUADRANGE OF MOODS AND JAMS

Album 10: Oversteps: BLOWN-OUT JAZZ CHAMBER MUSIC

EP 9: Move Of Ten: SICK BEATS AND PRETTY PIECES

Album 11: Exai: HERE COME THE WOBBLES, WUBBY BEATS

EP 10: L-Event: ADDITIONAL WUBS FOR THE JAZZIER EAR

Album 12: elseq 1: HOT, CINEMATIC, ELECTRICAL

Album 12: elseq 2: THREE JAZZ JAM EPICS

Album 12: elseq 3: HARD TONAL AMBIENT NOISE

Album 12: elseq 4: AND THE SONG IS BORN

Album 12: elseq 5: GRAND MOODPIECES

Album 13: NTS Session 1: ABSOLUTE DISTORTION, MONSTROUS AND DOPE

Album 13: NTS Session 2: ...WHAT.

Album 13: NTS Session 3: ABSOLUTE DISTORTION, GROOVING NEW SOUNDS

Album 13: NTS Session 4: ...AMBIENCE.

Album 14: SIGN: BEAUTY IN THE SUBDUED

Album 15: PLUS: WEIRD BEATS AND HAUNTING TECHNO

If more Autechre albums come out, I will almost definitely cover them too. I can’t even guarantee that this is the last time I’ll post about any of these albums. I’m wired into the Weird Techno world now. And, theoretically, you can be too!

I leave you with a bookend. As I started with Cavity Job, which I didn’t want to make a separate post for, I will end with a similar two-song release that’s much more representative of Current Autechre.

The MacMillan Cancer Support Single: NEW AUTECHRE REPRESENT [2017. Released to support the cause of cancer research, this single is referred to by its track titles. It came in between the two monoliths, elseq and NTS Sessions, and its sound is.. well. It’s definitely a far cry from Cavity Job, no?] track 1 (JNSN CODE GL16) staccato synth + ambient sustains, percussive outro track 2 (spl47) chaotic synth tones + fast beat, rhythms and wobs

See ya.