#who could appreciate two basses in this as John hopes?

[tavolgisvist]

Just Because

Three versions and something else 

1 Lloyd Price’s ‘Just Because’, 1956

Just because you left and said goodbye Do you think that I will sit and cry Even if my heart should tell me so Darling I would rather let you go

Just because you think that you`re so smart Going around and breaking lovers hearts Before I let this thing happen to me Darling I would rather swim the sea

I know you think you`re smart Just going around breaking lovers hearts

Just because I want someone who`s kind With a heart as good and pure as mine But maybe I am asking far too much Darling please don`t ever break my heart

2 John Lennon, Rock'N'Roll version (1973 or 1974)

Ah, remember this Why, I must have been thirteen when this came out Or was it fourteen, or was it twenty-two I could have been twelve actually

Just because you left and said goodbye Do you think that I will sit and cry? Even if my heart should tell me so Darling, I would rather let you go

Just because I want someone who's kind With a heart as good and pure as mine But maybe I am asking far too much Darling, please don't ever break my heart

I know you think you're smart Just running around and breaking lovers' hearts

Just because you left and said goodbye Do you think that I will sit and cry? Even if my heart should tell me so Darling, I would rather let you go

It’s too late darling, you just gotta say goodbye Why, the last time I saw you, you were wearing man’s clothes Not that I’m prejudiced, but you know I had problems with the zippers But who am I to hassle you like this? I’m just gonna have to let you go There’s two basses in this, I hope you appreciate it This is Dr. Winston O' Boogie saying goodnight From Record Plant East, New York We hope you had a swell time Everybody here says "Hi" … goodbye

Just because you left and said goodbye Do you think that I will sit and cry? Even if my heart should tell me so Darling, I would rather let you go

Goodbye, so long Been a long year Alright

All right! It’s all down to ‘Goodnight Vienna’. I’d like to say hi to Ringo, Paul and George. How are you? Everybody back home, in England, what’s cooking?

3 John Lennon, 'drunk' version (1973 or 1974)

Just because you left and said goodbye Don’t you ever think I’m gonna sit here and cry Even if my body should tell me so Darling I would never never never let you go

Just because you think you’re so smart Just because you think you break my heart Because I let your mind tell me so Well I listen, darling, now I would never let you go.

Well you think you’re so smart Breaking everybody’s, everybody’s heart

I need some excuse to be doing this I need a relief from my obligations

Just because you’re so sweet Just a little cocaine will set me right on my feet Whenever I’m so blue…

Yes sir that’s my baby* No sir I don’t mean maybe You know I like it just like my mama and my papa used to do I like it the same old way Just go from the head, from the top…

I know you love me I just wanna know Just tell it to me baby It’s all I got to know Once more Any time you, you feel like That (?) I couldn’t I just wanna hold you I just… Just because you left me and said goodbye Don’t you think I’ll ever ever say goodbye Even if my heart should break in two Darling I would never I’d never make nothing without you.

Just because you think you’re so goddamn smart And even if my heart said, “Come on John, get it” Before I let you get a, and before I let you get a grip on me Darling I would beg on my bended knee Baby you’re so smart I want permission from you All those mothers don’t know what they’re doing Little by little by little I need your love so bad it hurts me…

*seems like a little piece of Yes Sir, That’s My Baby (written in 1925 by Walter Donaldson (music) and Gus Kahn (the lyrics), Bing Crosby and  The Sensations recorded it in 1956

and Frank Sinatra recorded it in 1966, if we need any examples.

But one well known song has the same words, so… just suddenly association, maybe

[warriorteam1924]

The little things

featuring John Deacon

Author note : Hello my beauties. I'm back for a tiny piece for halloween ^^ ! I’ve been super busy lately and I’m aware it’s not my best piece, but  I hope some of you will enjoy it anyways. Thanks in advance to anyone who will be giving honest feedback, it’s always very appreciated. Also, I remind you English isn’t my mother tongue, apologies in advance for the mistakes.

Warnings : none really, just my awful writing

Summary : a nice moment for halloween for John

Words count : 950 words

Permanent taglist : @reavenedges-lies @thosequeenboys @orionis8689 (apologies people, i removed you from the list, since you don't interact.... i asked for communication....)

It was the end of October already and autumn had eventually settled down. It was about time, John thought. At the beginning of the month, he recalled being in the garden, wandering around his flowers, feeling the hot sun on his shoulders, feeling way too warm for the old man he was, merely wearing a t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

And of course, the end of October also meant Halloween. It was now a very common celebration, even in London now. Kids would dress up as celebrities or scary creatures and would knock on the neighborhood doors to trick or treat. When it came to adults, most of them were just picking up nice costumes, and would spend the evening together, giving them yet another opportunity to escape reality and have a party.

As for what would happen at the Deacon’s, the plan couldn’t be simpler.  Husband and wife had agreed. John would be in charge of answering at the door and give kids candies they would be asking for, preventing them from having a severe spell put on them.

As his wife was comfy and sat in the living room, John was making sure all would be ready for the late afternoon and evening. His plan was to have a large bowl and put it next to the front door so that he wouldn’t have to take it with him whenever someone would knock on the door.

He was putting the content of the large bag in the bowl he had prepared when something caught his attention. He spotted a candy he hadn’t eaten for what seemed to be forever. As a kid about to do something stupid, he looked around, making sure his crime would remain unnoticed. He picked the candy, took the wrapping paper off and very delicately put it in his mouth.

It was absolutely delicious. Of course, his adult mind perfectly knew candies weren’t very healthy, but he made the thought go away with an imaginary gesture of the hand.  

This candy he had put in his mouth was not the fanciest food he had ever eaten. But John suddenly realized despite how tiny this candy was, it was bringing him happiness at his very moment.

He had closed his eyes as he was letting the flavors of the candy invade his mouth and let his mind wander a bit on its own, a light genuine smile on his lips.

He started to think about all the little things in his life, like this candy, that was bringing him joy. He had been the bass player of Queen for something like two decades. He had traveled the world, seen so many things. He was married and was a proud father of six. One could say he had accomplished many things in his life.  

But what about the little things, the things that wouldn’t appear on his Wikipedia page, or that only the persons closest to him would talk about?

John thought about these little things. How he liked to wrap himself in his covers at night to feel comfy and cozy, as he was hearing his wife’s sleepy breathing. How he liked to receive a random picture from his kids or grandkids, letting him know about their lives now they had left the familial nest. How he liked to be in his garden, merely enjoying nature: the trees and their leaves, the psithurism, the flowers and their wonderful smell, the birds and their colorful feathers, singing here and there.

He also thought about a few memories he had with members of his family, his wife and kids of course, but also his mother and his sister. Even his father. Yes, his dad had died when he was still very young, but he was now making sure to recall nice moments, fragments of time before whatever had decided to take him from his family’s loving arms.

He also thought about his dear friends, his former band members, but also the roadies. How they had been laughing together to let the pressure down in between two concerts.

His mind then let him think about his dear dog who had passed away not that long ago. Again, trying to stick to positivity, he recalled the zoomies, her face when she didn’t get the present she had expected for Christmas – probably blaming Santa Claus for that – but eventually liking the toy, the walks in the nearby park, the smiles and the ear scratches….

His train of thoughts was interrupted by the doorbell ringing. John realized he had finished the candy for a long time and had been daydreaming in the kitchen for a good ten minutes.

He took the large bowl of candies with him and went to the front door. He put it on a high table that was in the corridor and opened the door. He let the kids say the now usual “trick or treat” and took time to compliment them about their costume. He noticed one of them was dressed as a zombie from the series and game The Last of Us, making him wonder if any of his grandkids would have picked such a costume….

He gave the kids their candies, all of them politely thanking him and rushing to the next house. John smiled at the sight of them happily running with their bags getting filled with sweets.

He closed the door and thought about suggesting tea to his wife. He started to walk towards the living room but stopped after two steps. He randomly picked another candy from the bowl and smiled like the kids he had seen a few minutes before.

Yes, it was good to enjoy the little things….

[acaplaya-musings]

Voiceplay-adjacent Visuals: Man of Constant Sorrow

Geoff's cover of Man Of Constant Sorrow was uploaded on the 15th of April, 2023 (the birthday of one of my best friends actually - lucky them). Geoff says in the description of the video: "As great as the song is, I always felt like it needed a bridge, so I wrote one. I fully expect some haterade in the comments section for that, but I love you all anyway." As far as I know, he has received exactly zero (0) "haterade" in the comments section for it, and nor does he deserve any! The bridge is great, and so good that those who don't know the original song (like myself and a few of the reactors I've watched) could think that it was just part of the original song (and did in fact think that), and those who do know the original might think it's from a completely different song! (Like one or two other reactors I've watched).

But anyway, enough about the song (and Geoff's mind-boggling ability to just write new lyrics on a whim, apparently), time to talk about the visuals! Let's go!

This video was filmed at "Big Oaks Ranch", which you might recognise as being the same filming location of Geoff's video for Take Me Home Country Roads (which I skipped over I know), as well as Voiceplay's videos for Daddy Sang Bass and Billie Eilish In 3 Minutes!

(Also check out how warm/saturated this shot is!)

A rare occasion of giving each of the Backup Geoffs different outfits despite it not being a theatrical/majorly-story-based video! We got Blue Shirt Geoff (wearing a polo with none of the 3 buttons done up on it), Light Shirt Geoff (wearing what I think is a pale-green shirt, but I'm not sure, with the top two buttons undone), Black Shirt Geoff (surprise surprise 😝😂) (t-shirt, so no buttons to speak of), and Plaid Flannel Geoff (with at least two buttons undone at the top, and open enough that you can see his necklace on full display!)

(Also that reddish brown belt gets a decent bit of usage doesn't it? Same one as two of the Cowboy Geoffs were wearing in Ghost Riders I believe, and I think it's been worn in Sixteen Tons and/or Big Bad John as well?)

Appreciation for the way the camera panned down along the train tracks, then panned up to Geoff, feet to head. We stan (also full necklace spotted here too!)

Sir how does your hair do that, how is your hair so good that you're giving me hair envy? (For the record, I have long, orange, wavy hair, and yet I can't help but be allured by Geoff's hair sometimes! 😅)

Let's talk about "Hat Geoff" for a minute here, because he's clearly the protagonist of this video, but in an interesting and uncommon twist, he's not actually the lead singer in this video - Light Shirt Geoff is!

(Also I'm genuinely wondering if that's an actual photo that he's holding, and if so, what's on it? (knowing him, my bet is that it's a picture of Kathy/him and Kathy <3 ))

Fun fact: Geoff's "guitar-playing" in this video is mostly just him faking it; doing simple strumming and stuff like that. He can't actually play guitar - or not in the typical way at least. For most of the instrumental stuff in his covers, he uses some sort of plug-in that connects to an electric keyboard/piano, iirc.

(Also the strings are barely vibrating as he's strumming, and I don't think he's even holding a guitar pick. I can't play guitar either though so what do I know? 😅)

Well he certainly looks good with it at any rate! 😁

"I can feel it like a bullet, no matter where I tread,"

(On my list of "movements/gestures from a Voiceplay/Geoff that I replicate nearly every time I sing it to myself 😝"_

"All my days I have been running from these GHOSTS within my head!"

The flowers placed next to Geoff's hat here, are known as "baby's breath", and apparently they've long been used as a symbol of purity, innocence, hope, and new beginnings. Their inclusion in this video would not have been for no reason!

(Also maybe Geoff does know a little bit about guitar-playing? Based on the way he changes hand/finger position on the neck of the guitar).

To just throw in an E1 subharmonic like it's the simplest thing in the world, while looking this good... god it's almost too much!

Also a bit of a fan of Plaid Flannel Geoff though ngl 👀

Genuinely some lovely cinematography in this video! (And apparently a lot of that is because of Geoff as well! Although Layne often helps out with the Steadicam)

Neat!

And I feel like it would be remiss of me to not highlight Geoff's message to people at the end: 😁

"I should mention that the train tracks I was walking down were not in use! So please please please don't go walking down any train tracks near you - trains are big and strong, and you are soft and squishy." [pfft, a Very Important Message indeed!]

I enjoy Man of Constant Sorrow for the fact that for the majority of the song, I can stay pretty easily on key with it (though often a couple or so octaves higher, of course). And that bridge is really awesome, and I could not imagine the song without it!

Only got a couple more Geoff videos that I wanna talk about (at the time of me typing this, at least), but they are my two other favourite videos on his channel (other than Way Down), so be prepared for many more screencaps! Stay tuned!

[thirstyforcharacters]

When the Universe Collides (Sam Wilson x Reader)

Summary: Every person has a soulmate. When your soulmate experiences pain, so do you, and any bruises, scars, or other markings that they get appear on your skin. Or, the story of how smacking yourself in the face with a cabinet was the best thing to ever happen to you.

Notes: Hi! Since the first episode of Falcon and the Winter Soldier comes out today, I wanted to write something for Sam! He’s super underrated and deserves more love! Also, this soulmate AU is extremely self-indulgent and has absolutely nothing to do with the TV show, but tbh I don’t care. Hope you all enjoy it too! (no y/n, no pronouns) (PS: any italicized text is Sam texting and the italicized and bold text is the reader texting!)

Warnings: mentions of a stab wound (nothing explicit), cursing I guess 

WC: 2.2 k

Your soulmate must have one hell of a job.

Almost every day, you woke up with dark bruises covering your body. It seemed that whenever one faded, another took its place. At completely random times, you would double over in aches that you certainly didn’t inflict upon yourself. One time, in the middle of the night, you woke up with pain in your stomach so intense, it felt like someone had stabbed you! It turned out that it was a stab wound, but given that no one had stabbed you lately (or ever), you figured it was from your soulmate. You definitely didn’t appreciate that hospital bill.

But you still desperately wanted to meet them. Meet that person that completed you: your other half. As a teenager, you made your parents tell you the story of the day they finally met so many times, you knew it by memory. They were both in the library at college, and your mom dropped a psychology textbook on her foot! Her howl of pain was only matched by the “SON OF A BITCH” that came from your dad on the opposite side of the library. When the two of them made eye contact, they instantly knew they were the ones for each other (they were also immediately kicked out for making such a ruckus). You wanted to have that moment so badly; meeting your soulmate was a huge milestone in every person’s life, and you needed it.

Your best friend and roommate, Brianna, had met hers just two months ago. They had met at the beach, when out of nowhere, Bri had shrieked in shock and pain.

“A crab just pinched me!”

When you had looked at her foot and told her nothing was there, she was totally confused, until you saw a handsome guy with a crab hanging from his foot! He had introduced himself as Julian, and the two had been inseparable since. He was living with you now, and you had honestly never felt more lonely in your life. Sure, you had your dream career; you ran a music shop in New York City, selling instruments, making repairs, and meeting all sorts of interesting people. You had a decent apartment, a chill best friend, and the cutest Yorkie, named Muffin, on the planet. By all accounts, you had it pretty good. You were just missing your other half.

It was a rainy day in NYC. The chill of winter was still clinging onto the March air, and you shivered as you trudged from your apartment to your shop. Even though you had an umbrella to protect you from the rain, the wind blew right through the too-thin jacket you yanked off of the coatrack in a rush. Still holding your half-eaten toaster strudel in your hand, you pushed open the doors to Major Instruments and Minor Repairs, your pride and joy.

It was two floors: the first was where you sold instruments, and the repair shop was above. Acoustic panels were attached to the burnt red walls to help quiet down the place, since the hardwood floors didn’t do much to help with that. The checkout desk was directly in the center in the room. Surrounding it were reeds, bottles of valve oil, and guitar strings. Picks were placed in two clear, plastic bowls on the desk itself. In the front left corner of the room was a grand piano, situated right in the window so passersby could see whenever someone plucked its keys. The entire back wall was covered in guitars and basses. To the right of the desk was a large drumset, accompanied by a pair of drumsticks and brushes. On the right wall were string instruments; string basses and cellos were leaned against the wall, while the violins, violas, and bows were displayed on it. Woodwind and brass instruments were scattered across the room in various display cases. Instrument stands, bow rosin, and miscellaneous instrument parts were on shelves throughout the room as well. The spiral staircase leading up to the repair shop was in the back left corner of the room. Behind the staircase was the door to the back store room, where you kept your extra supplies and also where you took your breaks.

“Good morning!” called Andrew, one of your closest friends from college, from behind the desk.

You waved in reply, wandering to the back store room. You were lucky you had Andrew; you could rely on him to run the front desk while you and Brianna assisted customers on the floor. Unfortunately, Bri had the flu today, so it would just be you on the floor, which would make things a little more hectic. You hurriedly finished your strudel, took off your jacket, which left you in a black and white flannel, a matching black tank top reading “Music is Life,” black leggings, and black combat boots (you had an aesthetic to uphold), and strode back out to the main area.

“You seem in a bit of a rush. Everything okay?” asked Andrew, who was currently restocking bell covers.

You sighed, “Just a whirlwind of a morning. Bri has the flu, Muffin nearly choked on a chicken bone, I almost burned my toaster strudel, and I smacked myself in the face with my cabinet door by accident.”

“Oh, that’s where the new bruise on your eye is from,” he mused.

You snorted, “Yeah, for once it’s not from my soulmate.”

“Maybe he’s a spy. Or a superhero!”

“Yeah, or a criminal,” you joined in on the restocking, grabbing some trumpet mutes since the place opened in just half an hour, “thanks for opening up, by the way.”

“It’s no problem,” he replied, “you know I don’t mind.”

The doorbell jingled and two of your instrument repair people, Sarah (for strings), and Natalie (for brass), entered. Natalie was lugging what was unmistakably a tuba case, while Sarah carried both of their instrument repair kits.

“Morning, ladies!” called Andrew.

“Good morning,” Sarah replied pleasantly.

Natalie huffed out a “morning” and dragged the tuba up the stairs.

“Her tuba’s broken. The tubing that holds up her mouthpiece completely snapped off. She’s going to try and repair it before her appointments today,” explained Sarah.

You winced, “That’s rough.”

Sarah dropped off both of their jackets and followed Natalie up the stairs leaving you alone with Andrew again. Soon after, Erik, your percussion guy, and John, the woodwind repairman, arrived, and it was time for the shop to open. For a while, it was just another mundane Thursday. Customers came and went. People tested the piano and drumsets, someone bought $100 worth of jazz scores, and a teenaged boy came in who somehow got a ping pong ball stuck in their trombone (you learned to never ask). But at exactly 1:47 pm, a time you would never forget, two very unexpected customers walked through the threshold of your store. You were up on a ladder, carrying a large, rather heavy, box of violin bows to situate on the wall, when you heard their voices.

“I’m telling you, Buck, I’m a wizard at the saxophone.”

“Sure, Sam. I’ll believe it when I hear it.”

“I’m serious, dude! I played all the time before I joined the military, and I picked it back up a little bit again after the whole Avengers thing. I just need to get a new one.”

“Hmm, okay. We’ll see.”

“Bastard.”

You whipped your head around and saw the Falcon and the Winter Soldier themselves in your shop. Having superheros in your place was a first. And who knew Sam Wilson played the saxophone?

Andrew offered them a cheerful greeting and directed them toward the saxophones, which happened to be near the ladder you were teetering on. Every time you leaned up to put a bow on display, it wobbled so badly you thought you were going to fall. You really needed to allocate some funds toward a new one.

As you continued to place bows on display, you heard the conversation of the two gentlemen browsing the saxophones. Apparently, Sam much preferred the tenor sax (which you happened to play, quite well you might add). Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him pick up a Selmer Paris model and inspect it. Those didn’t come cheap, but you were sure that saving the world gave a man a pretty decent paycheck.

“You think I can test it out?”

“I don’t know, dude. You should probably ask.”

You saw him nod, “Yeah, I guess so. And there’s not a reed in here, anyway. Excuse me!”

You realized he was calling you, so you craned your head to look at him. Both men were looking up at you, both with kind smiles on their faces.

“Is there any way I can get a cheap reed to test this out with,” Sam asked, “and are we even allowed to test them in store?”

You smiled back, “Yes, you can. We have test reeds at the front desk, just ask Andrew and he’ll give you one. That’s the only one you’ll get though.”

“Cool, thanks,” he replied while looking around, “nice place you’ve got here.”

Your smile grew a little wider, “Thank you! It took a little while to get it off of the ground, but I’m really proud of how it turned out.”

It was almost as if the universe wanted you to suffer. You stretched up to display yet another bow, and the ladder toppled to the ground, taking you with it! You shrieked in surprise and braced yourself for the impact with the floor.

But it never came.

Instead, you were caught in a pair of (ridiculously) muscular arms. When you looked into the arms of your hero, of course it was Sam himself. He was too handsome for his own good. The thing that stood out most to you were his deep brown eyes. And how, on the left one, was a bruise that exactly matched the one that you gave yourself this morning.

“Are you alright? That ladder must have it out for you,” joked Sam, though you could tell that he was concerned for you.

“I’m okay,” you squeaked, “thank you.”

“It’s no problem. All a part of the job.”

You nodded distractedly, still fixated on the bruise adorning his eye. He couldn’t be your soulmate, could he?

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he questioned.

“I-yes. I just got a bit, well, distracted.”

“By what?”

Well, it was now or never. You might as well just go for it.

“When did you get that bruise?”

He looked a bit surprised by the question, “The one on my eye?”

You nodded.

“This morning. It just popped up. Hurt a little bit, like something hit me in the face. Can’t be worse than what I’ve given my soulmate, though. I got stabbed in the stomach once and all I could think about was how confused and hurt they must’ve been,” came his reply.

It was him. It had to be! All of your random, serious injuries made so much more sense now.

“It did hurt,” you murmured back, “but not as much as the hospital bill.”

His face went from apologetic to elated faster than you had ever seen, “Wait, that means it’s you?”

“I think so,” you said, “I hit myself in the eye with a cabinet door this morning, and that-” you gestured to his face, “matches mine.”

“Oh, it does!” he exclaimed.

“Are you two done over there?” complained Bucky.

Thankfully, the Winter Solider had successfully rescued your box of bows.

Sam stood you up, and you could feel the embarrassment slowly creeping over you, “Yeah. Sorry about that, guys. Promise I’m not usually that clumsy.”

“Seems like you need a new ladder,” Bucky told you.

“You don’t say,” you sassed back, prompting a laugh from Sam.

Bucky then strode off to return the fallen box to Andrew. He gave Sam a knowing look as he passed by. He wasn’t very slick, though, you totally saw him.

“Listen, since apparently we’re soulmates and all, I’d love it if I got your number. I’ll take you somewhere nice to make up for all of the times I’ve gotten you hurt,” explained Sam.

You smiled bashfully, “That sounds nice.”

He handed you his phone and you input your digits. As Sam and Bucky were in the checkout line, your phone buzzed.

Hey, gorgeous. It’s your new man.

You giggled softly and looked up at him. He gave you an exaggerated wink and launched finger guns at you, making you laugh a bit harder. You entered his number into your phone and decided to send a text back.

Looking forward to you making up for all of those broken bones.

Me too.

You knew you’d be happy with him. Whenever the universe collided in this way, it always turned out for the best. If your parents and your roommate weren’t enough proof, soon you would discover it for yourself. You couldn’t wait for all of the memories you’d make together.

[cutie1365]

Hello Detective Chapter 71

Pairing: Sherlock x Reader

Word Count: 3k

A/N: This is my first time writing in months oof, but I’ve had these next few chapters outlined for a while so I’m really excited about this idea and where it’s going. 

Any and all feedback is appreciated and encouraged!

Masterlist in bio, taglist in reblog.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Wow,” Charles said in shock as he took a sip of his martini. Sitting across from him in a dark secluded corner of the expensive restaurant you explained everything to him and how your life had changed over the last few weeks.

“Are you really surprised? You know how crazy my life is. This can’t be that much of a stretch.” You chuckled. Looking back, shocking things happened to you all the time. Serial killers, faked deaths, assassins.

“I just can’t believe you got married.” He shook his head. You were no longer the cold hearted grieving girl he once knew.

“Actually I’m kind of shocked about that one too. Everything happened so fast.” You gazed off out the window. You’d gone from married to fake broken up so fast that it almost gave you whiplash.

“Are you ok with all of this?” Charles asked with a raised brow, uncertain.

“It’s our jobs, I know it’s never going to be easy. You and I have each done worse for a case.” You tried to convince him, and maybe yourself.

“God I know,” He almost shivered, “Remember Barcelona?”

“Don’t remind me.” You cringed, shaking your head, before looking up and smiling at the man across from you. The two of you sure had some wild adventures.

“So when’s the last time you saw him?” He asked, changing the subject.

“Hm, guess it’s been about three weeks. We texted for the first two, but he told me he’d have to cut off contact. Guess a break in the case. Hopefully this will all be over soon and things can go back to normal.” You said, taking a sip of your wine.

“Our lives are never normal Y/N,” Charles teased, “How’s work been? I mean, obviously can’t be that great, I’m not there.”

“Ask me something else.” You groaned, stabbing at your plate as you pictured Magnussen’s face.

“O come on, do you need me to kill someone for you?” He asked, and you knew he wasn't joking.

“That’s so sweet, Charles, really chivalrous of you.” You smirked, placing a hand over your heart.

“You know I’ll do it darling, drop of a hat.” He sipped his drink once more.

“Oh I know you will. Work’s fine. I like it, I do. I hate the politics of it though.” You shrug.

“We need to get a gun back in your hand and get you back to MI6.” He said.

“What, do you not like your new partner?” You asked with a smirk, knowing he didn’t play well with others. Hence the whole reason you were assigned to work with him in the first place.

“Well they’re not you darling, so obviously.” He flattered you.

“Do you want a desk job at MI5?” You teased.

“Oh shoot me.” He scoffed, causing you to laugh.

You’d missed this, the shenanigans you two got into. Of course you were happy to be catching up with him again, you just wish it wasn’t under these circumstances. You were thankful to have someone to confide in though.

“Why don’t you come see the office tomorrow, I’m free in the morning. Take a break from the River House.” You suggested, tempting him with your puppy dog eyes.

“I might...” He smiled, knowing he could never say no to you. His voice trailed off as you noticed your waiter approaching your table.

“Are you ready for the check, sir?” The waiter asked, only making eye contact with Charles, not even acknowledging you.

“Yes please.” Charles took the leather booklet from the man who promptly turned and left. You reached across the table to snatch it out of his hand but he pulled away out of your reach.

“A gentleman never lets a lady pay.” He shook his head.

“Well we both know you’re not a gentleman. And this lady promised you dinner, for you know, saving the entire country from a nuclear explosion.” You argued.

“If you insist.” He smirked, bringing the check closer, now within your reach.

“I do.” You snatched it, slipping your card in without even looking at the price. Perks of the new job. Hell if Mycroft had told you how much you were gonna make you would have gone off to work with him a long time ago.

As Charles walked you back to your flat, you slipped your arm under his as you noticed the photographer on the other side of the street. They seemed to be camped out with a direct view of your house. Of course you pretended not to notice them.

“What do you say Gregson, gonna invite me up for old times sake?” Charles smirked as you’d made it to your front door.

“I say, we’ve got eyes on us at your six and my husband needs the world thinking we broke up. So you’re going to kiss me on the cheek and then I will invite you inside.” You smiled sweetly, you had to make these photos look convincing. Surely they’d be on the front page come tomorrow morning.

“Have you always been this bossy?” He smiled, rolling his eyes and slowly moving in to kiss you on the cheek, giving the photographer time to make sure he got a shot.

“Of course I have.” You whispered back with a chuckle.

“Happy?” He smiled, pulling away.

“Come on, my couch misses you sleeping on it. And I’ve got some Glenlivet 25 with your name on it.” You slipped your arm around his back and pulled him into the flat, no doubt giving the photographers a couple more shots.

“Oh Gregson, you know me so well.” He smirked.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The next morning you were giving Charles the grand tour of the Thames House, MI5 HQ. You were hoping for a calm, quiet, peaceful morning. Of course in your world that was never likely.

As you’d made it to the top floor of the building and stepped into your corner office Charles immediately strode in like he owned the place.

“So this is your office, hmm, I could get used to this.” He smirked as he plopped himself down into your desk chair and spun to face the windows. They were floor to ceiling and made up the whole wall. Of course they were bullet proof for security purposes.

“You wouldn’t last a week.” You joked as you approached the window and admired your beautiful view of the river.

Suddenly, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket, you were pulling it out as you turned back to Charles and chuckled at his behavior.

Who knew a world class assassin could be won over by a cover office and a swivel chair. Your face went pale as you glanced at the text that lit up your lock screen.

911 Barts

-JW

“Oh my god,” You muttered.

“What is it?” Charles asked, he knew it was serious from the look on your face.

“911 Barts Hospital.” You turned the phone so he could see as you snatched your purse off of your desk.

“Come on, I’ll drive.” Bass jumped into action, leading you out the door and down to the garage as your mind wandered. Something was wrong. John wouldn’t have texted you if it wasn’t. Was it Mrs. Hudson? Was it Sherlock?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

As you burst into the lab that the receptionist had directed you towards you heard the hard slap of flesh on flesh as Molly’s hand came down onto Sherlock’s face. He was alive, hell he looked like shit but he was alive. He’d told you this case would take a physical toll on him, you knew it could mean a relapse.

“Oo, can I go next?” You ask, annoyed as you stood in the doorway, Charles lingering behind you.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Sherlock spat, matching your energy, making sure to hold up his end of the charade. You saw his head tilt to view the man standing behind you. He almost looked intimidated for a moment, as his face flashed in a “That’s Charles?” sort of manner.

“John texted me ‘911’, I thought it would be important, I was on a date. Clearly I can see we’ve wasted our time.” You retorted, crossing your arms as you stepped into the room. This was as close as you’ve gotten to Sherlock in nearly a month.

“I’m confused.” John chimed in, furrowing his brows as he looked between you and Sherlock.

“We broke up.” Sherlock explained with an eye roll, as if it wasn’t obvious.

“You’re joking.” John almost laughed, not thinking he was serious. The hint of laughter left his lips as he looked back at you and Charles, “You’re not joking. So you two...”

You nodded as Charles stepped to your side to introduce himself.

“Charles Bass,” He shook John’s hand with a smirk. For an extra touch he slipped his hand to the small of your back.

“Right.” John nodded, still confused as to how so much had happened while he was away on his honeymoon. To him it seemed like his whole world had turned upside down.

“Maybe one more slap for good measure, Molly.” You smiled at the girl who looked just as shocked as John at the news of the break up. Glancing down you noticed the missing ring on her ringer, and hoped she wouldn’t get any ideas.

“If you were anywhere near this kind of thing again you could have called, you could have talked to me.” John moved towards Sherlock, obviously he wasn’t clean. Rock bottom always meant a certain 7% solution. You hated how it always came back to this.

“Oh, please, do relax. This is all for a case.” Sherlock rolled his eyes at John’s scolding.

“Isn’t it always. Can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard that one.” You scoffed.

“What kind of case would need you doing this?” John asked, still not amused.

“I might as well ask you why you’ve started cycling to work?” Sherlock said to John, trying to change the subject as you glanced at the wrinkles in John’s shirt and followed his deduction.

“No, we’re not playing this game.” John shook his head.

“I drove all the way here for this?” You raised a brow, annoyed.

Sherlock looked to you as John had his back turned. A smirk lingered on his lips, he was enjoying this little game. That or he was still high. You had to admit, it almost was fun, and a bit like role playing. The smirk dropped as he put back on his mask and turned to John.

“Quite recently, I’d say, you’re very determined about it.” He just loved to get under John’s skin.

“Not interested.” John said, and you nodded in agreement as you turned to walk back towards the door.

“I am. Ow!” You recognized a voice coming from behind Sherlock and turned around at the sound of his yelp. You tilted your head to see around him, your eyes landing on a familiar face.

“Wiggins? What’re you doing here?” You asked, your brows furrowed in genuine confusion.

“How do you know him?” Sherlock asked with hostility, but something in his voice told you he was scared. He didn’t like not knowing things, and he couldn’t comprehend how you could possibly know this man. You weren’t supposed to know him, this wasn’t part of the ruse.

“We’re old friends,” You said sarcastically, rolling your eyes, “What do you think?”. His eyes widened in realization. Well there’s anothering thing the two of you had in common, same dealer. Although for you it was more of a one time thing.

“Is it his shirt?” Wiggins butt in, changing the subject and breaking the unintentional staring contest you and Sherlock were having.

“I’m sorry?” Sherlock turned back to Wiggins.

“Well, it’s the creases, innit?” Wiggins said, “The two creases down the front? It’s been recently folded but it's not new. You must have dressed in a hurry this morning. So all your shirts must be kept like that. But why? Maybe ‘cause you cycle to work every morning, shower when you get there, and then dress in the clothes you brought with you. You keep your shirts folded, ready to pack.” He said, shocking nearly everyone in the room.

John and Mary were so focused on Wiggins that you and Sherlock were able to share a quick smile, almost a laugh. It quickly faded to ensure no one else noticed.

“Not bad...” Sherlock said.

“There you go, a new toy to play with. Have fun,” You scowled at Sherlock as you made your way towards the door once more, “Molly, Watsons, Wiggins, it’s been a pleasure.” You nodded at the rest of them, ignoring Sherlock as you left the room.

As you walked down the hall, you weren’t sure whether to feel angry or happy that you at least got to see your husband and know that he’s alive.

“Well that was unexpected.” Charles said, breaking your train of thought as you walked back to the car.

“Welcome to my world.” You scoffed, a ‘quiet morning’ was unheard of for you.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Just as you began the drive back to your office your phone lit up with a call from Mycroft, causing you to roll your eyes.

“My brother’s drug habit is about to hit the newspaper. Did you know about this?” He asked, and if you didn’t know any better it sounded like an accusation.

“Well that’s not really my problem anymore is it?” You retorted.

You’d spent the last few weeks convincing him that you and Sherlock had broken up. Making sure to mention plans with Charles more in his presence to really sell it. Luckily after some initial shock and a brief conversation with his brother, he believed you. But surely he wouldn’t think you would leak a relapse to the press for some sort of petty revenge.

“Did you know?” He asked once more, more forcefully.

“No, I just found out. He’s at Saint Barts, John texted me.” You explained, rolling your eyes once more.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to block all of these articles. Will you meet me at Baker Street, I may need back up.” He asked, but you knew it wasn’t really a question. You tapped Charles on the shoulder and mouthed ‘Baker Street’ to him and spun your finger to instruct him to turn the car around. He nodded and complied.

“Should I bring my gun?” You asked sarcastically. What kind of back up did he think he was going to need, it’s his baby brother for christ sake.

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” He said, unamused.

“Well if you’re not wanting me to crack any skulls I’m not sure why I have to tag along.” You said, you had a very certain skill set and if he wasn’t looking to utilize it, there was really no point beyond moral support.

“Don’t make me order you.” He threatened and you scoffed, as if he could.

“Mycroft, I don’t want to have to see him. Surely you can understand why. It’s not my job to look after him anymore.” You pleaded.

“No, but it is mine. So you will be there.” He said sternly, and you sighed and hung up.

Of course you had already instructed Charles to turn around and head to Baker Street, you just wanted to push back against Mycroft a little to make this whole break up seem more convincing.

When you pulled up Mycroft was waiting outside. Charles got out and made his way around the car to open the door for you. You leaned back against the closed door as you smiled sadly at Charles.

“Thank you, sorry your tour gott cut short.” You smiled, making sure to keep your voice at a whisper so Mycroft didn’t overhear anything.

“Oh my morning was much more interesting, you’re one hell of an actress darling.” He whispered back with a smirk, placing one hand next to you on the car and leaning closer casually.

“You’re just figuring that out? By the way, we have a very important audience right now.” You informed him.

“That the brother?” He asked, and you nodded.

“Then we’ll just have to be convincing,” Bass said, leaning down to leave a chaste kiss on your lips. It wasn’t the first time you’d kissed for a case, public displays of affection make people uncomfortable and tend to prove very useful in spywork.

“I’ll call you later.” He waved with a wink as you walked towards Mycroft. You smiled and waved back with a nod.

Mycroft raised a brow, his face in its usual look of disgust.

“Well that was unpleasant to watch.” He said once you were now standing in front of him.

“I told you I was busy and I don’t want to be here, you don’t get to judge.” You scolded, raising your finger at him. You turned to face the famous black door of 221 Baker Street, realizing how long it’s been since you’d been here.

“No, but I do get to say I was right.” He smirked, causing you to furrow your brows and turn back to him.

“About what?” You asked, genuinely confused.

“I always knew there was more between you and 007.” He said, with the tilt of his head, as if he took pleasure in being right. Of course he wasn’t really right.

“Spare me, Mycroft. Let's just get this over with.” You rolled your eyes and crossed the threshold into 221B, an eerie feeling starting to settle in. Your gut told you not to walk up those seventeen steps, it warned you, it screamed ‘Danger Ahead”, but of course you didn’t listen. You never did.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

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[blackberry-gingham]

Hiya! Could you write a little something about Paul dating a girl who is a big bookworm? She can’t go anywhere without a book in her hands. She’s just very timid and polite and Paul just instantly falls for her! Thank you so so much, my love <3

Oh it's SO cottage core time lol.

Thank you for sending this in!!! I love bookworm reader type stuff 🥺🥺 enjoy!

---

Today has been very bizarre indeed.

Paul sits on a worn leather bench in the hall of a recording building all by himself. He's brought his bass and some music sheets he's been working on, fully prepared for a little practice and recording with the lads.

He checks his watch once again. It's 12:38, over half an hour past when John told him they were going to meet up for practice. Paul huffs and thumps his head against the panel wall behind him. Damn that John...

"Well, this is a waste", Paul slaps his knees and stands. He does a quick stretch, and an old office door creaks open. You poke your head out to see what all the ruckus is about.

"Hello? Is everything alright out here?"

Paul nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound of your voice, "Oh, pardon me! I uh-", he turns to face you. He's seen you around here before plenty of times when he's come to record, but never found the time to talk with you. Not that he ever thought he could, that is.

You always seem to be reading everywhere you go.

And yet, that fascinates him. Your clothes are stylish, but simple and comfortable. You don't appear to care too much for loads of makeup or elaborate hairdos. Just... the natural beauty of you alone has his interest peaked. So different from the other girls he usually runs into...

Not to mention you've never before come to ask for an autograph or just to talk with any of the four of them! You're like a puzzle he wants to solve. He's so use to being hounded by girls, the one woman he meets that doesn't seem to care much for him, has him on his head.

You wouldn't know what to say to that, except that you're quite use to him and the other Beatles being around. Thus, you're simply not too caught up as a ravenous fan girl type.

No, you rather prefer books and your soft classics to rock n roll and it's stars.

"Oh, Mr McCartney... I'm sorry sir, but we don't seem to have a studio scheduled for you today... Uhm, is there some mistake?"

Paul leans on the wall, trying to be casual, but failing miserably. He paints on what he hopes is a charming smile, "Something like that, but it's alright! Say, haven't I seen you here before...?"

You smile kindly, although you see through his act, "Yes sir, I'm an assistant here. See?" You come out of the doorway and gently click your door closed behind you. Sure enough, your name is written in bold block letters on the glass.

Paul reads you name aloud, letting it roll off his tounge. "What a lovely name! Say, I'm about to head out, but can I autograph something for you, for the trouble? I didn't mean to scare you, haha. Uh... That perhaps!"

He gestures to a ragged old tome cradled in your arms. The pages are yellowed, the spine well worn, and the color coating has begun to chip away. Just barely along the cover, one can faintly make out the title, Pride and Prejudice.

You hold the novel tighter to your chest and turn slightly away to shield it. "Oh! Um, thank you but I couldn't... This is an original copy from 1813, it's practically a treasure! Er uh, not that I wouldn't wa-"

"From 1813?", Paul interupts you, not with the intention of being rude, mind, in fact quite the opposite. His eyes are wide and it's clear you've captured his attention for sure now.

"That's right! I just love books, you know... I'm something of a collector haha", you run your delicate fingers over the top of the hardcover and for the briefest of moments, Paul wonders what those fingers would feel like through his hair.

You continue, "I'm actually only here to bring some books home from my office, I was just leaving when I heard you out here"

Paul snaps out of his daydream, realising now that he's sad to see you go, "Heh, right then! Well I suppose I shouldn't ke-"

An ear splitting crack of thunder shakes the building, followed immediately by a heavy torrent of rain that you can hear even through the brick exterior. Your face falls, "Oh no... I'm sorry Mr McCartney, but I really must be going, tsk now I need to figure out how to get my books safely to the car"

"Would you like some help? I've all day freed up you know!", Paul's heart beat quickens as he awaits your answer.

You think for a moment. Well, you could use some help moving the boxes... Besides-

Your eyes focus on Paul who, if he's even trying to hide his excitement, is doing a very poor job of it. If he had a tail, it'd surely be wagging.

-he seems harmless.

At last you accept and usher Paul into your office. "Do you think we could find something to cover the boxes from the rain?"

Paul thinks a moment then promises to return in a jiffy. True to his word, he's come back with what appear to be drum tarps. He drapes the sturdy leather over both stacks, then stands back to appreciate his work, "There now, surely Ringo won't mind since it's for such a worthy cause"

You laugh heartily, and in that very moment Paul swears he'll remember the beautiful melody of it all his life. You clear your throat, trying to compose yourself, "Ahem, well then, my car is just this way"

Paul hoists his boxes up with a touch more effort then he was anticipating, but he'll be damned if he lets that on in front of you. He grits his teeth and hopes it's not too far as he follows you through the hallways to the back lot.

"Oh! Are those encyclopedias too heavy? I'm so sorry, I should've split the load...", You turn to check on him. He looks a bit red.

"They're fine!", Paul wheezes.

You don't believe a word, but you figure he'd rather carry on then stop now. Besides, you're nearly there. Finally, as promised, you exit the building and stand beneath the small awning.

"Alright now, it's that green one over there, see? We'll run over quick, and put them in the backseat, ok?"

Paul nods and huffs, hyping himself up for one last push.

"Go!"

The two of you race to the car, just barely able to see where you're headed through the down pour. You balance your boxes on your knee with one hand and shove your keys into the lock with the other. Without a second wasted, you fling the door open and push the stack inside with Paul's right behind you.

You slam the door closed and jump into your car for cover while Paul joins you in the passengers seat. You're absolutely soaked and Paul doesn't look much better. He laughs at the state of himself, but you feel quite bad for putting him up to this in the first palce...

"Uh, Mr McCartney..."

"Oh, Paul please", he laughs

You smile and muster up some courage, "Paul... Um, would you like to come take these home with me? I'd just hate to leave you out in the rain... Besides, I can make you a nice cuppa for your help. And, there will be biuscuits", you bite your lip, and suddenly the dynamic has flipped as now you await anxiously for a yes.

Paul looks at you very seriously, "Well, only if there will be biuscuits", after a moment, he smiles, and let's you in on the joke. You laugh alongside him.

Carefully, you drive through the storm and the city until you reach the edge of town. The rain's not let up, even as you hit the countryside. Paul sings and talks to you a little to settle your nerves, particularly as streaks of lighting and cracks of thunder battle overhead.

Before long you pull into a little dirt lane that slowly turns to cobble. You turn everything off and when the car is situated, you and Paul formulate a similar plan as before to grab the boxes and make a break for your porch.

The plan goes smoothly and Paul follows you closely across the stone path up to the painted white steps of your porch. Now that his eyes have a break from the onslaught of rain water, Paul take a moment to appreciate your little home as you fish out your keys.

The porch is quite small, and surrounded by flowering shrubs. A few vines of English ivy twine around the banisters and railing, creating a lovely frame and backdrop for the two person swing bench hanging just a few feet away. Paul is admiring the little pillows when you interupt him to come inside.

Paul follows obediently through the cottage, absolutely swimming in the atmosphere. Just inside lays a cute little door mat welcoming him to the abode. To the left is a small living room with a fireplace and a bench at the window. Every piece of furniture is tastefully laden with pillows and fluffy throws.

You travel up a short flight of stairs which leads to a single room on the second floor. The walls are made entirely of bookshelves aside from a little niche carved out for a desk and a split stopping just before the large bay window and bed beneath it.

Paul is so stunned at the sight of it, he has to freeze and take in the simple, yet majestic room. He feels as though he's in another world.

"You can just put those over there, I'll go start the kett- Uh, Paul are you alright?"

"Huh? Oh, sure! Over here you said?"

"...If you'd please. Thank you", you smile and leave after just an extra moment to make sure he doesn't fall over or something.

Paul sets to work diligently and respectfully handling your collection, occasionally glancing reverently up at the towering shelves around him. He reads every title, feeling the old binding across the length of his hands. The whole room smells of aged paper and a touch of your perfume, and Paul's never experienced such a wonderful scent in his life.

He's about halfway through his stack of boxes when you come up the old creaking stairway to beckon him down for tea. Paul snaps to attention at the sound of your voice, then scuttles down after you.

"Here, I thought we could dry off by the fire", you hand him a cup and saucer with all the fixings he could want safely placed on the old wooden coffee table behind him. Paul joins you on the wool rug as you fix your drinks then settle in.

"Thank you so much for your help Mr-, er I mean Paul", you smile sweetly, and Paul has never felt so happy to hear someone speak his name.

"No trouble...", He mumbles.

You sip in silence for a while, and suddenly you shiver quite violently. Your cup rattles and spalshes just a touch.

A little embarrassed, you apologize and put down your cup, "I guess I didn't realize how cold I was", you laugh nervously and grab one of your many blankets and a few pillows to surround yourself with.

"No no, don't worry! Here, let me help", Paul hesitates just a second, but when you don't object he scoots closer until you're sitting hip to hip. You smile gratefully, a little blush painting your cheeks as you drape the rest of the blanket over Paul's shoulder.

"Thank you...", daring to take a risk, you cuddle into his side.

Paul welcomes you, holding you tightly and praying you can't feel his heart hammering away inside him. He and rests his chin on your head and places a gentle, tiny kiss to your fragrant hair, lingering just a moment to drink in the scent of it. You smell like paper and wisteria.

"No trouble"

[judylicious]

“I’m glad we both have found back to you.”

     ____________________________________________________

Preamble: Sooo... our BluesBrothers Discord Server made me do it. I wrote my first very own fanfic. 😊 It has gotten a lot longer than I intended it to be, so please bear with me, if there’s not too much going on in part 1 but part 2 will follow asap :)

      ____________________________________________________

Alan Rubin x fem!Reader (chapter one)

Word Count: 2.060

Fandom: Blues Brothers

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Blues Brothers characters or movies.

Warnings: none

The story takes place before the movie and before Jake went to jail for sticking up a gas station.

It was one of those afternoons Kelsey spent at the Soul Food Cafe at West Maxwell Street. She was sitting at her “regular” table at the window, sipping a cup of coffee and listening to those beautiful tunes from John Lee Hooker and a few other musicians who were performing outside in the streets. Occasionally she took a look at the opened book in her lap but couldn’t seem to focus on anything she read. If only he would stop staring.

Across the room 2 guys were seated dressed like Hasidic diamond merchants, black suit and tie, black hat, black boots, they even wore their dark sunglasses inside. Kelsey wondered if she had seen them before, surely they must have caught her eye. In any case one thing was certain. The taller one was permanently watching her. Although he was wearing his glasses she could feel his eyes on her and it annoyed the young woman to no end. She usually came her after work to relax and calm down but being watched certainly didn’t make that any easy. From the corner of her eye she saw the tall one getting up and walking over to her table. “Hiya, how are you doing? I’ve seen your face a couple of times before.” Slowly the girl turned her head from looking out the window to the man who, without asking, took the seat at the other side of the table. “Err… Hi, thanks I’m… doin’ good?” Was that a question? Get a grip girl “I spend quite a few afternoons here, that’s right. What about you?” As the man spoke the blonde girl took a closer look at him. He was actually kinda cute, well, from what you could see under all those black accessories. “Same here. Me and my brother play in a band”, he said as he pointed to the shorter guy who still sat at their table but gave Kelsey a small nod. “The two guys in the kitchen are also in our band, they work here for some side cash.” She chuckled “Sounds like your band isn’t in great demand then.” He gave her back a little smile “You know some times are easier and some are tougher on us. It ain’t easy out there. But perhaps you’ve heard of us…? The Blues Brothers?” The girl shrugged her shoulders. “Well, one more reason to come by when we’re playing our next gig. This Saturday we’re at the…” He got interrupted by his brother, who was standing in the door, followed by a slightly pale, thin man with long, blonde and fluffy hair and a dark skinned, very muscular guy in a tight shirt. “You comin El?” “Yeah s-sure!” He assured the three men then turned back his attention to Kelsey. “Listen I gotta go, we’re on our way to rehearsal. Can I meet you again sometime? How about tomorrow, same time, same table?” And before Kelsey could agree or disagree the strange dressed man was dragged on his collar and out of the cafe by his brother.

“Jake we weren’t finished you know?” His brother sighed “I love you Elwood but you’ve been working up the courage to talk to that girl for what feels like weeks now. Thought you’d speed it up just a little once you finally did make a move.” Elwood looked shyly to the side “Yeah.. it’s just, you know I’m looking for something serious, that takes some time.” “I do. And I do want you to be happy. But I don’t wanna be late for rehearsal, everyone will blame me again, when it clearly was your fault.” Jake joked and gave his brother a soft bump with his elbow. The next day Kelsey left work, as she checked the time she still felt unsure about what to do. Usually she would go to the cafe but then again there could be that guy waiting for her. Was he even coming? Kelsey never agreed on meeting him again though. Did she even want to meet him again? He definitely was cute and I barely know any people in this city beside my coworkers, so why not? And so she found herself sitting at “her” table again, waiting for the man in his suit to show up. When the doorbell of the cozy dine up rang she was torn from her thoughts but greeted with a friendly smile by him. “I wasn’t even sure you’d come but here you are, I’m so glad.”, the handsome man spoke as he took a seat. “My name’s Elwood by the way.” “Hi, I’m Kelsey. Yeah you got torn away rather quickly yesterday.” “Sorry for that, today I’m all yours. We only rehearse on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. So.. you enjoy music?” “Oh absolutely. I adore jazz and blues and cannot do much with today’s music to be honest. I don’t know anyone who feels the same so this feels like my sanctuary. Did you grow up in Chicago” And so Elwood told Kelsey about the St. Helen orphanage where he and Jake grew up, how they became interested in music and founded the band. And Kelsey told him how she was raised in NewYork and only moved to Chicago a couple of weeks ago since she needed to leave NY and her past behind, to make a fresh start.

A couple of days later Elwood and Kelsey met for their 2nd date. They agreed on Kelsey picking him up right after rehearsal and they’d go out for dinner. Fortunately there was enough time for her to go back home after work and before her date. She took a shower and made sure to take extra care of her blonde, curly hair. Typical. When it matters those curls do what they want. She decided on her favourite dress, a black sleeved gown with golden ornaments, tied around her waist with a cute matching belt, ending just above her knee and a pair of black laced boots. Kelsey rarely felt self-confident. Over the years she did realise that she was pretty but her figure always made her feel unsexy. She wasn’t much overweighted but simply curvy, with a wider hip and some bigger thighs and butt. That dress though made her feel pretty, so she was satisfied with her look in the end as she left the house with a few butterflies in her stomach.

The young woman took a glance at the note the musician gave her and looked rather insecure at the building in front of her. No doubt this was the address Elwood had written down for her but this looked nothing like a place for rehearsal. Well, how does Bo Diddley state so well in one of my faves songs “Can’t judge a book by it’s cover” She started humming the tune as she entered the old, abandoned-looking building. Not having a clue in which room the band was practising she simply followed the sound of music and as she got closer and the sound become clearer she could identify the song. It was “Green Onions” by Booker T and MGs. Wow. She hadn’t heard that one for ages but she instantly started to feel the vibe. When she finally found the boys, their rehearsal had already came to an end. What a shame, I’d love to listen to some more songs, they sound quite talented. “Kelsey! There you are!” Elwood yelled from the other side of the room, raising one arm. The girl felt uneasy being on display but as she let her gaze wander through the room she noticed that aside from Elwood, Jake and one of the man she had seen in the cafe before no one else as giving her great attention. Most of the band members were busy with their instruments, they were either cleaning or doing some maintenance work on it. Elwood took a few big steps to catch up with the blonde girl “Hi, glad to see you!” He seemed to be pure excited for her to meet the guys. “C’mon I’d like you meet the rest of the band. You know, they became like family to me. Hope you like ‘em too. I know you will!” he said eagerly. “So you already know Jake of course and I believe you have met Blue Lou and Matt before.” “Yeah I have, nice to see you again.” Kelsey stammered. Wouldn’t say I “met” them but rather took a short glance at them. “Sure, we know ya’, a regular at our diner. 2nd table at the window…” Matt started “A chopped cheese and one big white coffee.” Lou finished for him. Yeah okay that’s crazy. The girl laughed nervously “Haha, alright, you scare me! Think I might order something different next time.” She then got introduced to Tom Bones at trombone, Donald Dunn at bass guitar, Murphy at keyboards, Steve at lead guitar and Willie at drums. One man was left, he was standing with his back to Elwood and Kelsey and seemed incredibly deepened in whatever he was doing, looked like the zipper of his instrument case was stuck. They approached him when Elwood continued “And last but not least of course we have Mr. Fabulous…” The man quickly turned around as he heard his nickname when not only his jaw dropped a few inches.  “Alan?” “Christ Almighty! Is that the McAllister girl? I didn’t know you where in Chicago!” “Well right back at you!” Kelsey grinned. “You.. two know each other?” Elwood asked confused. “Yeah, Alan was my trumpet teacher back in NY.” “Oh didn’t you tell me you had just started learning since you moved here?” “Err.. right, I.. err.. quit and picked up playing again”, Kelsey stumbled somewhat embarrassed. She felt strangely awkward admitting that she had quit at some point in front of Alan. She swore she could see some disappointment in the trumpeter’s eyes or perhaps it was the disappointment in herself. “Well if you need a brush-up I’d be glad to help.” Alan smiled. “Really?”, Kelsey bursted out and tried not sounding too excited as she went on. “I sure would appreciate that.” “How are Mr. and Mrs. McAllister doing?” That question caused a sudden change of the girl’s mood, Alan could read her facial expression immediately. “How about we catch up over coffee sometime? Guess you might be pretty interested how I ended up with these lunatics!” He laughed and gave Elwood a little flick against the brim of his hat. She gave him a little smile when Elwood grabbed her hand “Shall we?” Before neither one of them could say anything, he twisted her around, leading her to the door. “He really has a talent to kill the mood, hasn’t he?”  Elwood joked. “Nah, everything’s alright”, she assured the handsome man at her side but turned around to meet Alan’s gaze who was looking after her.

The trumpeter closed the door and threw his keys at the table, letting his instrument bag slide off his shoulder onto the sofa. He then grabbed a bottle of beer, a cloth and the tube of polishing creme from the drawer, unpacking his horn. He couldn’t believe he stumbled into her today. It had been ages. Back in NY her parents had hired him as her trumpet teacher. That was over 10 years ago, she was only 14 back then. A teenager. Not the kind of girl that stood out in the crowd to be honest but that girl today, that woman - looked nothing like the teenager from NY. She really had grown into a looker. He remembered how she used to straighten her hair when she was younger, what a shame after seeing those beautiful blonde curls today, she looked like an angel. That dress perfectly hugged her curves and loosening it up with those black boots suited her a lot. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, that smile simply didn’t want to disappear from his inner eye. We was torn out of this thoughts when he’d realised he almost put the entire tube of polishing creme on the cloth  - and into his lap. He sighed in annoyance and went to the kitchen to clean himself up. After getting rid of the mess, he made a couple of sandwiches and slumped in front of the telly… with a certain young woman on his mind.

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

[legalvinyl]

Epitomizing Classic Rock Lead Guitar

Half the fun of being a musician is trying to look like, sound like, and play like your heroes.  While this path often leads to expensive sessions on websites like eBay and reverb searching for that next magical piece of gear and alternating between moments of joy and frustration as you get a little closer to playing like your idols but then realizing the closer you get just how much better they are than you - regardless, chasing this dream is a lot like chasing the dragon; it probably isn’t possible but you’re going to try anyways.

In the world of guitar playing, which is a world I’ve proudly inhabited now since the single digits in age, the unfailing chase for ‘that tone’ is something that comes as a universal qualifier once someone gets comfortable enough to rip a pentatonic scale with a little bravado and confidence.  While I love rhythm guitar playing and think it’s one of those areas that truly makes a great guitar player (especially when playing with others or in a band setting), my heart rests in the beauty and magic of the solo and melody in lead guitar playing.  There’s something so expressive, like a direct link from your emotions and your soul to the fretboard that creates a special bond and demands full attention from not only yourself, but also your audience.  It’s a spotlight moment, and as much as it presents an opportunity to sound like a cliché poser, it can also bring a strong moment of glory that feels so gratifying after rehearsing and practicing licks repeatedly until one can play them from muscle memory alone.  This compilation of songs demonstrates some of my favorite and most influential guitarists at the top of their game.  I hope it can serve as inspiration for aspiring guitar players and entertains some rock music fans who just want to groove along with players that make the connection between the instrument and the individual seem more like a spiritual illumination than just a guy pulling on some strings on a dead piece of wood.  

Starting with the most classic rock sounding classic rock possible, we have Paul Kossoff ripping his Les Paul into a cranked Marshall stack (the true epitome and peak of rock n roll) in the song I’m A Mover from the Free Live! album.  That crunchy guitar tone makes up the vast majority of the left pan of the mix, so listeners can hear every detail and nuance in his playing clearly.  And boy does he use that space to good use.  Kossoff combines some tasteful but not overly exaggerated riff-based rhythm playing with opportunities to launch off into vibrato heavy solos all the while keeping a perfect understanding of the timing of the song and the rest of the band.  It’s a tight song that gives the lead player just the right amount of ‘free’dom without getting lost in excess.  Kossoff doesn’t try to use too many notes or pull the song in his direction entirely; he stays central to the bluesy message of the song and lets his fingers do the talking with impactful and purposeful words with every note.  

Next, we’ll move to my two favorite guitarists of all time (which I could’ve used as examples for probably over a hundred songs of lead mastery) starting with Eric Clapton.  This recording is unique for a variety of reasons, but mostly because it features such an incredible all-star lineup called the Dirty Mac which features (get ready for it) John Lennon on rhythm guitar and vocals, Keith Richards on bass, and Mitch Mitchell on drums.  And for you guitar nerds out there, Clapton rips his signature cherry red es-335 into a fender stack that conjures up serious undertones of Clapton’s biggest influencer, the great B.B. King.  The tone is a little thin and snarly for Clapton during this stadium-playing Cream-era time of his guitar career, but I love it as a deviation from his usual sound that also informs his playing and almost shows his personality more in a lot of ways than his typical Marshall stack sound does.  And Clapton is really at his best here soloing over the entire 4-minute song with all the soul and character that made countless guitar players in the late 60’s gush over.  Just watch the video, these are all legends in rock music having fun and absolutely killing a great Beatles cover.

My second favorite guitar player, Mick Taylor from The Rolling Stones, is rarely mentioned in debates of sensational lead players for very strange and inscrutable reasons.  Simply listen to his lead work on Hide Your Love and you’ll get goosebumps at Mick’s ability to combine difficult sequences with endless amounts of taste and feel.  This classic blues song lets Mick showcase his chops in the background during the entire song, and Jagger even shuts up every once in a while, to let him really steal the show.  There’s this sense of control and expertise that comes across in this track that only a true master could convey, and I really think this represents unbeatable guitar work no matter who would try to challenge him.

The passionate, almost violent guitar sound from Jeff Beck’s Let Me Love You is unique and gutsy in all the best ways.  Another very bluesy track from another English group, this track demonstrates how fighting with your guitar can feel like a bluesman at the crossroads who’s truly battling with the devil.  The tone is unique, the playing is inflamed, and the notes are all creative and expressive in a manner that would make a lot of guitar players scratch their heads and think ‘how the hell did he do that?’.

Another angry song from a player who needs no introduction, Tony Iommi’s playing on the track Jack the Stripper / Fairies Wear Boots is genre defining and innovative to say the least.  The song’s introduction almost has a jazzy feel; it’s free-flowing and loose, but the unity between guitarist, bassist, and drummer is so tight that the listener never feels lost and the track never seems directionless.  Although this track isn’t one big soloing showcase like some of the others, I challenge any guitarist who thinks they know their chops to play along with this in perfect time and with the same refined rage that Iommi musters.  It’s a killer track with a distorted metal tone that takes its roots from more bluesy and latin-flavored backgrounds, and it shows that heavy rock and metal sounds can come from fewer notes played with fervor rather than haste.

The last track ends this list like a sweet desert.  Blue Sky by the Allman Brothers is a masterclass of taste and self-command.  Two guitars trade solos that feel exactly like a warm summer sun, and the notes seem to radiate out from the guitarist’s souls rather than their fingers.  Almost as if Jerry Garcia had grown up on a peach farm, the solos are melodic and don’t feel like standard pentatonic runs or played out blues riffs.  Every note is purposeful and connects the phrases together with a real naturalness that somehow makes the listener feel like they’re in the middle of a field on a beautiful day no matter their setting or time of year.  It’s a song that captures a vibe unlike any other, and the guitar playing is so perfect for the track that you can’t help but smile.

Obviously not an entirely exhaustive list as I’ve had to omit a few guitarists that certainly deserve your attention, as well, but I hope this gives the classic rock guitarist a wide range of sounds and playing styles to learn from and appreciate.  Every guitarist mentioned in this list has other great tracks in their catalogue, and I strongly encourage you to invest yourself into their playing even more to discover further inventiveness that should provide countless hours of learning and inspiration.  Cheers and enjoy!

YouTube Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JeFwaWFTGYU

Mick Taylor Photo: https://sfae.com/Artists/Dominique-Tarle/Mick-Taylor-Recording-in-the-Basement-Studio-Nellc

[bowieandqueen11]

Break Things / Billy Hargrove Imagine

Request: Hii! Could I please request Billy (Stranger Things) being a huge dick to you for months since he’s come to Hawkings but then one night at a party, both drunk he admits he likes you? Please and thank you❤️ 

Of course love, thank you for requesting! I’ve really missed Billy

Comments are much appreciated!

You never expected to end up at Dean Brauner’s house on this Friday night, but that was Hawkins for you.

You were too busy spinning around in circles on the dancefloor with Nancy, Steve glancingly warily, as if almost afraid of the unity the two of you held from where he stood at the punch ball. The strange, gloopy, scarlet liquid bounced out of over Nancy’s solo cup, splashing down on her fingers and staining the front of her cream blouse as she swished her hips. She stumbled against you as the night began to reach its climax, giggling as her forehead hit against her shoulder and the two of you stamped on the foot of poor Jason Miller. Laughing, she wraps her arm around you, slow dancing with wilting hands before nodding off against the dip of your chest.

‘Nanc. Nanc!’

You shake her gently, eyes fluttering open before closing once again.

‘No, Nanc! The night’s not over yet!’

She hiccups slightly as she pushes up and off you.

‘I’m gonna go to the b-bathroom. Maybe...maybe sleep.’

The bass thumped in time with your heart beat as Nancy walked off, faltering with every step towards the stairs. You go to catch up with her, but stop when you see Jonathan Byers grab onto her elbow and help her start slowly away from the roarous noise of a bunch of drunk teenagers.

Over the roar of music, you could hear a distant, hazy chatter. You couldn’t make out any words, but harshness rang in your ears and wouldn’t seem to stop. The song that was playing got louder, pulling you in and wouldn’t let go. You rolled your eyes, believing Billy Hargrove would, of course, always be the main culprit of any disruptions, of any fights that broke out among the Hawkins High students.

Billy Hargrove, the man who had body slammed you into your locker during the first day of school because he ‘hadn’t seen you standing in his way’. The man who sit down in front of you during lunch break just to blow cigarette smoke in your face with a laugh. The man who then, later, when skipping class with the next skyscraper hair girl he had found to play tonsil tennis with, would flick said cigarrette buts out of his hand and onto your leg. In all honesty, he would say, he hadn’t even seen you sitting next to Steve Harrington on the bleachers.

Little did you know, that Billy Hargrove was trying to distract himself from how deeply, and utter terrifyingly much he was falling in love with you. He couldn’t get you: little, unknowing you out of his mind, and it was driving him insane.

The crowd here was so jubilant, singing the songs that belonged to the inebriated and joyful, so annoyingly happy. They rubbed shoulders, never minding that their toes were often trodden on or that they were in closer proximity to these strangers than they usually were every single day at school. The atmosphere was one of elation, the warm summer air occasionally punctuated by whoops and hollers.

Billy dropped down off the keg stand, finding a high, the only form of elation he could in his life from the roars of the boys around him as he saunters inside cheering. He reaches up to pull down the bunting that lines the ceilings, gritting his teeth in drunken victory. He buttons back up his shirt, hoping no one could see the slight red mark, the last remaining bruise in the shape of Neil Hargrove’s hand, but being too buzzed to fully care.

He sees you wander over to the pizza table from across the room, stepping on scattered cups and pieces of popcorn that litter the wooden floor. He frowns slightly as he watches you go, trying to draw his eyes away with a feeling he can only guess is close to some heartbreaking kind of longing. He snarled to himself, beating his chest and slapping Dean Mibrow on the shoulder as he passes by. Thinking about you too long reminded him of his mother: the things he wants most in life, will only break his heart in the end.

But the thought of the giddiness he would feel from just the touch of your skin muzzled his higher thinking in much the way the mass of beer he had just downed was. With his primitive brain in charge and the flood of endorphins urging him to continue he was swept away in the moment with his girl, his love. He was intoxicated.

Deciding which topping of pizza was going to be the best tasting one right that second, you don’t even notice John slide up to you, eyes glancing at your cheeks. He flashed you one of those signature half smiles that Hawkin heartbreakers were famous for, shifting closer towards you until his hand reached up to brush against your neck.

‘Hm, you smell delicious tonight, Y/n.’

‘And you’re drunk, John.’

He shoves his hands into the pockets of his football jacket, shrugging slightly. He couldn’t mask the look of slight annoyance that flitted over his face, however.

‘Maybe, but that doesn’t mean you have to be such a prude Y/n.’

‘Excuse me?’

You shivered as you tried to dodge the hand to started reaching towards your thigh.

‘I said-’

Before he could even reply, his body was flying forward onto the counter as Billy grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. Billy pinned him down, not enough to hurt him, but as his face loomed over John’s grimacing one, it was enough to instill fear into the jock’s heart.

‘You want to say that again? Say that shit one more time, I dare you.’

His voice was almost inaudible against the thumping music, but it was enough to make John’s legs start shaking from underneath Billy’s vest. You grab onto his arm, crying in surprise when Billy nearly rips his arm away, but he softens slightly under your touch.

‘Billy, it’s okay, everyone’s just really drunk. It’s fine.’

Billy’s grip falters as you grab onto his hand, one eyebrow twitching in confusion. When he realises that you’re not tugging away from him in disgust, he slowly interconnects his fingers with yours, letting his grip on John’s collar go.

‘Fine, but I’m giving you a ride home.’

~

The two of you just sit for a while on the hood of his Camaro, Billy kicking at the gravel with his boot as you just wonder. Wonder what on earth Billy Hargrove was doing.

‘Why are you being so nice to me. You hate me.’

Billy’s fingers reach behind him through the rolled down window to fumble with the radio buttons, switching the channels until he finds the track on the CD he’s looking for, ‘Kickstart my Heart’ by Motley Crue, turning it down slightly until the musical notes begin to blur in with your synchronised breathing.

‘I don’t hate you, Y/n. I hate most people in this shit hole town, but you’re not one of them.’

‘And you’re drunk as well, Billy.’

You smile at him warily, your heart beginning to pound at the hope that fills his swirling eyes, flecked with little pieces of gold as he looks at you like one of those hopeless romantics in a love movie, his chest shaking with each breath. Neither of you dare to move for a second, and all that can be heard between the two of you is the gentle hum of his engine.

‘And you’re warm.’

It takes you a second to realise what he means, before Billy’s forehead is resting gingerly on your shoulder and his arm drapes around your lower body. His fist is still trembling, slightly red against the knuckles as he grinds his teeth, scared by this moment of vulnerability. His voice rumbles against you as he continues,

‘And you’re beautiful.’

‘W-what?’

‘I didn’t tell you, because I don’t deserve you.’ He ducks his head for a second, his breath warm against your arm as he blinks the tears that rise up in the corner of his eyes away. ‘I break things, Y/n. All I do is break things, and you’re too perfect for someone as damaged as me.’

You laugh lightly at his nervous expression, wetting his plump lips almost subconsciously. He takes a deep breath in, staring at you with such an intensity you couldn’t place, but were willing to take a chance on.

‘I didn’t know you were soft for me.’

His smile faded, his expression growing deep. His eyes stared intently back at you, examining you, surveying you. His eyes travelled down to your lips, slowly pushing forward until his nose bumped against your forehead.

‘Only for you. But if you tell Harrington, you’re still dead.’

Buy me a Coffee?

[your-dietician]

How intense psychotherapy and a Bel-Air love nest led to John Lennon's classic debut album

New Post has been published on https://depression-md.com/how-intense-psychotherapy-and-a-bel-air-love-nest-led-to-john-lennons-classic-debut-album/

How intense psychotherapy and a Bel-Air love nest led to John Lennon's classic debut album

John Lennon and Yoko Ono in January 1970. (Richard DiLello / Yoko Ono Lennon)

In the months before John Lennon and Yoko Ono entered Abbey Road Studios in London to start work on what would become the album “John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band,” the couple were renting a home on Nimes Road in one of L.A.’s fanciest neighborhoods, Bel-Air.

The Beatles were still the most famous group in the world but were in the midst of breaking up, with members traveling to and from London to finish “Abbey Road,” work on various solo projects for their label Apple Records and argue about release schedules and royalties.

Living along a curvy lane behind walls that afforded complete privacy and overwhelming views of the city, Lennon and Ono were a world away from that drama. They woke to the sounds of chirping birds, sprinklers and lawnmowers, enjoyed their tea alone and, when so inclined, chilled by the pool. Lennon worked on some songs, including “Working Class Hero,” “Mother,” “Well, Well, Well” and “God.”

Then, each morning, Lennon would drive down Beverly Glen to psychologist Arthur Janov’s West Hollywood office, enter a darkened, soundproof room and scream as loudly and violently as he could.

“He used to finish a session feeling incredibly good,” Janov once recalled.

This backdrop set the tone for “John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band,” which came out in December 1970 and is the subject of an exhaustively documented box set just released by Capitol/UME and the Lennon estate. Called “John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band (The Ultimate Collection),” it comes with six CDs, two Blu-ray discs, a hardbound book, poster and postcards. It’s a revelatory set, especially for those with access to hi-fi gear and a darkened, soundproof room.

Newly mixed to increase Lennon’s vocal presence from fresh high-resolution transfers, the set features 87 recordings that have never been officially released, including rehearsal sessions, demo tapes recorded on Nimes Road and a series of alternative mixes drawn from unused tracks — congas on “Hold On” are a revelation, for example. An accompanying coffee table book, “John & Yoko/Plastic Ono Band,” offers an even deeper dive into the couple’s creative partnership.

Story continues

“During 1970, we did extensive Primal Scream therapy for six months, which was very beneficial for us and many of the songs were inspired as a result of those sessions,” writes Ono in the preface to the coffee table book, adding that “John’s songs were a literate expression of his feelings.” (Ono declined an interview request for this article.)

John Lennon relaxing by the swimming pool at his and Yoko Ono’s rented home in Bel-Air during the summer of 1970. (Yoko Ono Lennon)

The result, “John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band,” was Lennon’s debut solo album. It was issued the same day as Ono’s companion album, “Yoko Ono/Plastic Ono Band,” and found Lennon in an intimate setting with a few friends purging unfiltered emotions into songs about “freaks on the phone,” isolation, leaders who “tortured and scared you for 20-odd years” and his lack of belief in, among concepts, Jesus, magic, Adolf Hitler, the I Ching, the Buddha, yoga, kings and the Beatles.

“He had changed a hell of a lot because of this primal scream thing, and that was really heavy,” says Klaus Voormann, who played bass on the album, on the phone from Germany. “It was heavy for him, it was heavy for Yoko, and it was heavy for us.”

As with most things Beatle-related, the critics loved Lennon’s “Plastic Ono Band” when it came out. Creem’s Dave Marsh wrote that it was “interesting and even enlightening to see a man working out his trauma on black plastic but more than that, it’s totally enthralling to see that Lennon has once again unified, to some degree, his life and his music into a truly whole statement.”

The Times’ Robert Hilburn called it “nothing short of a masterpiece,” and “a work that is filled with pain and sorrow, searching and struggle. It is frightfully honest, profoundly moving.” That its emotion is tied to a bestselling psychology self-help book is often overlooked, but it played a central role in Hilburn’s review.

Arthur Janov in 1998. (Ann Summa/Getty Images)

“Primal therapy has to do with the traumas you’ve undergone in the womb, at birth, in infancy and childhood,” Janov explained in an interview excerpted in the book. “We have needs that we are all born with, and when those basic needs are not met, we hurt. And when that hurt is big enough, it’s imprinted in the system. It changes our whole physiologic system and all those pains are held in storage, causing tension, anxiety and depression.”

After Lennon and Ono read Janov’s book, “The Primal Scream” (subtitled “Primal Therapy: The Cure for Neurosis”), Ono asked that Janov travel to them in London, which he did. “He was in bad shape. He couldn’t leave his room,” Janov said of Lennon. But Janov had work in L.A., so Lennon and Ono followed him back and rented a home in Bel-Air. Lennon wasn’t the only one enduring pain. He and Ono had been trying to have a baby, but she had suffered two miscarriages.

Forced to return to England six months later to deal with visa issues, Lennon and Ono were barely off the plane before they entered Abbey Road. The sparse, emotionally raw Lennon solo album is dense with echoes of his West Hollywood wails, and the sessions were the same, Voormann says.

Voormann, best known for creating the art for “Revolver,” had met Lennon and the rest of the Beatles long before Beatlemania took hold, when they were rocking the Star Club in Hamburg, Germany, in the early 1960s, and he remained within the band’s inner circle. At the end of the decade, Voormann had just concluded a run with Manfred Mann when Lennon called to ask whether he’d join him, Ono, Ringo Starr and producer Phil Spector at Abbey Road. Needless to say, it was a welcome invitation.

At Abbey Road, Voormann described walking into “a whole vibe. There was crying. There was laughing. There was happiness. There was hugging each other. And we were all part of this amazing atmosphere.”

John Lennon at EMI Studios in London on Oct. 9, 1970. (Yoko Ono Lennon)

Simon Hilton, the box set’s producer and production manager, said that contrary to reports that Lennon “was angry and throwing headphones and stuff and making a fuss” during the week at Abbey Road, “there’s no evidence of that at all.”

Listening to the rehearsal tapes, which find Lennon, Starr and Voormann working through classics including “Honey Don’t,” “Mystery Train,” “Glad All Over” and the Beatles’ “Get Back,” Hilton continues, “you can hear what an amazing time they were having.”

The three were “obviously working really hard but also really enjoying being in each other’s presence. They were such good mates and I’m sure after the tensions of sitting in the room with Paul and George and Ringo, this was a huge relief.” (Hilton stresses that “John never had any beef with Ringo, ever.”)

“There is a playfulness among the three main musicians that in no way represents how earnest the songs are,” says Rob Stevens, who worked as a mixing engineer on “The Ultimate Collection” and oversaw the raw studio mix recordings and outtakes. “The laser beam is turned on right when the take starts and it’s turned off at the end — and there’s some real silliness before and afterwards.”

A Klaus Voormann illustration from the “John Lennon / Plastic Ono Band” sessions in October 1970. (Klaus Voormann)

All you need to do is listen to “Mother,” the wrenching opening song on the album, to appreciate the ways in which primal scream therapy informed the sessions.

Voormann remembers worrying about Lennon’s vocal cords as he sung the track’s climactic ending, which finds the singer pushing his limits. “I was thinking, ‘Oh my God, I hope he’s not going to lose his voice.'” Lennon, the bassist adds, was never trained as a singer, and cited as an example once requesting “Please Mr. Postman” during the Hamburg days. Lennon declined. “He said, ‘No, let’s do it as the last number because if I do that now, I’m going to be hoarse all night.'”

Lennon is on the cusp of hoarseness, Voormann says, in the final version of “Mother,” which is a song that addresses Lennon’s relationship with his mom, Julia, who as a young parent left Lennon to live with his Aunt Mimi and only sporadically reached out after that. (“I lost her twice,” Lennon recalled during an interview. “Once as a 5-year-old when I was moved in with my aunty, and once again when she actually physically died.”)

“His voice is already starting to break on the record,” Voormann says, “and it’s fantastic because he is really screaming as much and as long as he can. He wanted to get that out of his system. The wounds were opened up inside of him, and these wounds he put into those songs.”

John Lennon and Yoko Ono in London on Feb. 11, 1970. (Richard DiLello / Yoko Ono Lennon)

If there was a flaw, for Ono it was in the final mix. Lennon’s voice wasn’t prominent enough. For this new remaster, Ono suggested the engineers make it more prominent. “That was Yoko’s directive right from the beginning,” says Paul Hicks, who mixed and engineered much of the new set. “‘Bring John’s voice out to the fore’ and ‘You’ll find all the emotion in John’s voice.'”

Adds Rob Stevens of Lennon and Ono’s Lenono Archives, “Bringing John’s voice up was a real revelation for just about anybody who had listened to anything else that he had done.” Referring to a microphone effect that adds a sharp echo, Stevens added that Lennon “covered his voice up with a ton of slap. There’s a ton of reverb.” Stevens says that in the process of working on the recordings, he was able to remove the reverb and hear the unfiltered Lennon. “What was there was the same emotion but more nuanced because there wasn’t a slap or two or three behind it.”

The producer and engineer John Leckie was 20 when he landed a coveted entry-level job running tape at Abbey Road Studios in London. He started in January 1970 and, not long after, was in the studio recording “All Things Must Pass” with George Harrison, and half a year later he was working on Lennon’s record.

Leckie, who has gone on to produce essential records by the Fall, Radiohead, XTC, Elastica, My Morning Jacket and dozens more, says that he recalls this early Lennon session as being a relaxed, comfortable environment. Spector was a quiet, unobtrusive presence — there was no “Wall of Sound” at Abbey Road — and Ono was more involved with the creative back and forth.

“Phil wasn’t there all the time, but my memory is that he was there a lot of time and when he was there, it was really good vibes. It’s funny, because when people ask me about this record, they always seem to think there was this angst — dreadful, painful. ‘What was it like to be in the room with John pouring out all this angst about his abuse over the years and the terrible terror he was going through?'”

Leckie continues, “It wasn’t like that at all, and you can tell by this box and the outtakes it was great fun. He was playing with his best friends. He was playing with Ringo and Klaus Voormann, and he’d known Klaus since Hamburg.”

Voormann underscores the sense of camaraderie at play, an experience jarred by hearing the rehearsal tapes anew. “All this came back to me. It felt so good having certainty knowing we were really a group — this little tiny group, just Ringo, me and John.”

Lennon’s solo debut, in hindsight, was an outlier. He started recording its follow-up, “Imagine,” less than a year later, and not long after that, he and Ono separated. Lennon moved back to L.A. and commenced a bender that many nights led him just a block from Janov’s office, getting drunk with Harry Nilsson at the Troubadour. Lennon and Ono reconciled a few years later. The five studio albums that followed “Plastic Ono Band,” while accomplished, seldom matched the feral energy and sharpened pen found on his debut.

Meanwhile, by 1974, Janov was in the pages of The Times being lumped in with Dear Abby, Billy Graham, radio talk show hosts and witches, as a guru who “professes to have an answer for sale.” A documentary called “Primal Process” followed a few years later. One reviewer praised the film but warned that “the continuous crying can be taxing.” In the 1980s, the English new wave group Tears for Fears took its name from Janov’s therapeutic method, and the similarly inspired “Shout” became one of its signature hits.

Janov, for the record, loved “John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band.” Speaking to Hilburn in 1970, the therapist and author, who died in 2017, described it as “a very dialectic album. It is the most personal statement imaginable, yet it has a universal language. It could only be written by someone who has arrived at a state of understanding himself. It isn’t something that any kid with a guitar could sit down and write.”

This story originally appeared in Los Angeles Times.

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[nosferatyou]

If I Can Be So Bold: Chapter 1 (Jack White x OC)

Summary: Rosalie and her band “By Elliston” move from Nashville to Detroit to continue their music careers and move away from their demons. Rosalie notices an unhappy face in the crowd of their first show, and is instantly drawn to him. While she doesn't mind that hes easy on the eyes she does mind his less than stellar attitude about their music. 

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Drug use, language, and mentions of abuse.

Notes: Well this has been brewing for A WHILE. I’ve been everywhere deciding on a plot, but after tedious planning this is finally a reality. I hope the 5 Jack White fans on here enjoy this. This will be a series so strap in folks. We got young jack. we got old jack. we got everything in between. (also series names are hard) Enjoy! Appreciate all the research i did!

Chapter Two

“Do you want another?” 

He holds his hand above me, his dark eyes burning holes into me, he pulls back more as if ready to strike again. As if on command, I recoil from the movement, feeling smaller than I ever had.

My head shoots up, suddenly back in Zoot’s coffee house. I blink a couple of times, trying to wake myself up. I couldn’t remember what she asked.

“What?” I asked her, phasing back into reality again, and not what was a horrific nightmare.

Sat next to me was my best friend and singer in our band was Harry, or Harriet if you want to be technical. Her head was held high, and she was practically jumping out of her skin with excitement, she seemed more than ready for our first show in a new town.

 She moved one of her two shots in front of me and asked again. 

“Are you deaf, Lee? I asked if you wanted another shot before we go on.” 

I quickly sat up and grabbed it off the makeshift bar, anything to shake off what I was feeling. 

We clinked our drinks together, and she yelled out a toast over the crowd of people behind us. 

“To fresh starts and new stomping grounds!” 

We clinked our drinks and quickly downed them, both of us coughing from our burning throats, but as soon as we saw our red faces, we burst out into laughter. 

“We are horrible at shots, aren’t we?” I said in between wheezes of laughter.

“We truly are.” She paused and grabbed the bottle. “One more for good luck!.”

It seems like this is the night, if any, to drink. 

We’d just gotten to Detroit. Like just got here a week ago and are already booking shows. We all decided to move her for reasons I won’t mention, but I’ll just say that we needed to switch up our scene a bit. 

Our band “By Elliston” had grown pretty big in the Nashville scene, we played pretty frequently at the Exit/In. Which is not the biggest venue in the world, but it means something for the Nashville scene. I mean, we technically shared a stage with Muddy Waters and BB King, so that’s at least something to brag about.

 We were known in the Nashville punk scene and had made some significant headway, but thanks to shitty people and our big egos, we decided to move to Detroit. Known for its great music and cars.

 And here we are at Zoot’s Coffee shop, which is arguably a coffee shop honestly. Off a dark street, that no person with money would venture down, and the outside seems like nothing is out of the ordinary, it’s just a house on a street. But the inside. Its a home, its a coffee shop, and venue for anyone who has an instrument. 

Its packed wall to wall with people, barely any standing room, especially near the stage, which is just a raised corner of the living room. Its the perfect venue for any rock band. Small and loud.

We (being the band and me) all lived for music, and it is our life’s blood.

 I grew up in a very southern home and was always surrounded by music, thanks to my dad. Id never met a man who loves Johnny Cash more than him or country music for that matter. Cash would always play through the house, or Hank Williams, Waylon Jennings. That kind of thing. However, I can’t stand to listen to any of them now. Overplayed and over appreciated is what I always said.

 That did spark something in me. I started playing guitar, thanks to my dad… and then I picked up the bass and then drums. And so on and so on. The moral is that If you hand me any stringed instrument ill know how to play it.

The other girls. Jo, Harriet, and Ezra. All got into good music when they were in high school, which also when we all met. Thanks to the high school band or orchestra. I played violin, as did Jo and Harriet, Ezra played the stand-up bass and continues with the bass to this day.

 Now we’ve all moved on the from hot cross buns and into a world of rock and roll. We used to be terrible, covering a lot of Alice in Chains and Nirvana. 

Graduating class of ‘93 for all of us, and we lived in a world of grunge. Five years later and we’ve since moved on from our teenage ways. We’ve embraced the blues and everything around it. However, we get a bit heavier than our inspirations, with my heavy fuzz and Harriet’s raspy yelps. With the look of punk dads (a lot of fun button-ups, dark makeup, and Dr. Martens boot) and the sounds of 4 angry ladies, we tore up Nashville.

We played a lot of house shows, met many a band, lost many a group, met a dumb boy who won’t be named (its John), and had a lot of fun tearing up the Nashville scene. 

As we grew, we played bigger venues, the show of ‘96 at The End being the staple of our career. We’d never played as good as we did then, and none of us are convinced we’ll play as well as we did that night.

 Either way, we were thrust forward, and our movement grew, we were making money from our shows, plus we played bigger venues. The Exit/In and The East Room, to name a couple. Last month we felt we needed a change of scenery to grow. As incredible, the Nashville scene is, its also quite small. Few venues and fewer people. That’s the other girl’s excuse, at least. 

We scrounged up what we could, found an apartment here, and moved as soon as we could. Unlike the others, I had to burn some bridges to get here, but more will be made here. We scooped out the scene the moment we arrived and set up a show here, and we are all buzzing to perform again. 

“So, who are we opening for again?” I asked as we headed to our van to start and unload our gear. 

“The White somethings.” Jo absentmindedly answered, wrapping her jacket around herself for warmth.

Harriet quickly cut in, “The White Stripes, you mean.” Correcting her.

We all arrived at our shared van and started grabbing our mess of cables and cases.

Harriet continued, “I’ve been asking around all night about them, you know. To learn about the enemy and such.” 

Jo popped her head up from the front seat and asked, “When have you had the time to ask around? I was with you literally all night.” 

Harriet picked up her small load for the night and parked a seat on the car next to ours, lighting a cig while she sat.

“I have my ways.” She said, wiggling her eyebrows before taking a long drag.

“Anyways, here’s what I’ve learned. They’ve been around a year, the drummer learned when they got together, and guitarist leads the show.” She spoke with her ever-present dramatics, waving the cig around after every word. 

“They can’t be that good if the drummers new, and they’ve only been playing a year.” Said Ezra, who was effortlessly carrying what seemed to be the world’s most massive bass amp. 

“I don’t know, Z. It seems agreed that they know how to rock a room.” Harriet pipped up.

“What does it mean for us then?” Asked Jo who’s joint was lit and already in her mouth, and arms were full with various drums. Explains why she was digging around the front seat.

I quickly cut in, not about to let them get nervous over a baby band. “Absolutely nothing. We’ve got six years on them. These Detroit kids won’t know what hit them, we’re from music city for god’s sake.” 

“That’s the spirit, Lee!  Now get your asses inside so we can set up.” Harriet popped off the car and started walking towards the door, beckoning us towards her.

“Feel like helping us speed up the process, Harry?” Joked Jo.

“You’re big girls. I’m gonna go try and spot the enemy.” She yelled back to us.

“Oh, have fun, we will just be here carrying your band!” I yelled out.

“I knew I could count on you, darling!” She called out, throwing a wink and cigarette butt our way. 

When we had finally reached the stage, the already crowded room had doubled in bodies. While most bands would be shaking in their boots, it only spurred us on more. While we all have our fair share of disagreements, we have one thing in common. Our shared headspaces before a show. All ready to take on anything, and our confidence is unwavering. The bigger, the better. It’s honestly what’s kept us together this whole time. 

Now all eyes were on us, and it was a tough crowd, it was dead silent. The girls and I all exchanged a look and nodded. I always started us off. We had a set opener, it never changed and worked every time, but after that was a free for all. I usually took charge and just chose whatever I was feeling, but if not me, then Harriet. The other two just flowed with whatever we threw their way.

I always started first with the heavy riff, joined in by Ezra, then Jo, and finally Harriet. 

The riff is what pulled them in, and it was always quite the sight. I got fully into it every time. It was dark, straightforward, and full of fuzz and feedback. 

By the time Harriet joins in its mayhem, I speed up and play power chords. It’s not slow, but it’s not so fast that it’ll make your head spin. 

As the short show progressed, we felt like how we used to feel every night. Pure joy, which is what we all fucking needed. 

We improvised. I mashed up whatever songs I even threw in a little Stooges to thank the locals for letting us play. Though I did notice the gaze of one oddball in the back, who was just… watching.

 While that doesn’t sound weird, it was sure out of the ordinary. He sat in the back, arms crossed leaned against the wall. The whole mysterious boy schtick was down pact. He wasn’t scowling, but he didn’t seem happy. It was off-putting and kept my focus over towards that corner of the room, but didn’t hinder the performance. Maybe it fueled it. 

The show couldn’t have gone better, though. The crowd did not hide their whoops and hollers when we finished our last song of the set. I was already riding that performance high and will be for the rest of the night. 

“Thanks for a great first night, Detroit! We’re “By Elliston,” and we hope to see you next time!”

Screamed out Harriet for a final goodbye as we headed off the stage, their applause carrying us off the small stage. 

The moment we put down our instruments, we about took each other out, tacking one another to the ground.

 As tradition carries, after every show, we used to just aggressively group hug, but over time we’ve grown more and more… excited. At one of our last shows at The Exit/In, I accidentally knocked out Jo by slamming into her too hard. If that gives any frame of reference to what our dog piles look like now.

“Ladies. If every show goes somewhat like that here, I think we will rule this scene.” Ezra said from the bottom of the pile, her words garbled from the mass of bodies. 

“Alright, Lee, get your ass off the top, you’re gonna snuff me out down here.” 

Without much warning, she slid out from underneath us, and the rest of us went down to the ground, causing all of us to erupt in laughter. 

Once we all straightened ourselves out, we went to the van and had a celebratory cig, the first of many “celebratory” cigs of the night, 

To my right was Harriet leaning against the tail light, and Jo and Ezra were sitting in the van next to me. Harriet broke the silence.

“You know I missed this, Lee. I’m glad you’re back.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean Har-” While talking I’d noticed three figures a few cars over walking to their own. My eyes widened in surprise. I grabbed Harriet’s arm suddenly and dragged her in with the rest of us.

“Shut up. It’s him.”

“What I wasn’t even talking-” she stopped and sat up to face, she wasn’t upset, but she sure looked confused. “Wait, who is “Him?” 

I looked around to check to see if he could hear. 

“I saw him when we were playing. He kept just… staring at me. It was weeeird.”

“Why’d you pull me in the car then??” 

“I panicked! It was just weird!” 

Ezra peaked her head out of the car in curiosity and asked. “Which one is it, the young blondie or the black-haired beauty?”

“Gah Jesus, not the child, Ezra! It’s the hot one.”

Harriet whipped her head out of the car to look at them, speaking a bit too loudly.

“Lee, you need to start off saying it was a HOT stranger! You have my interest now.”

“I’m going to kill both you. Get your dumbasses back in the car.”

We huddled back up, Harriet has a look in her eye that I don’t like.

“So, what’s the plan of action here, Lee?” Asked Harriet.

“Nothing. He’s a scowler. Sure a hot one at that, but if he can’t enjoy what we make, then what’s the point? When we played that stooges song, he looked like he was going to blow his top.”

“I think you’ve missed the point here, Lee. Point one,  You’re fresh out of a toxic sludge of a relationship. Point two, hot stranger. And finally. Point three, he’s a hot stranger in a band. I’m not passing up this opportunity.”

She gave us a wink, took a final drag of her cig, and hopped out of the car. She was going over to them.

“Harriet, you fucker don’t you dare,” I said with gritted teeth. “I’ve tackled you once today, and  I’ll do it again.”

She chuckled. “You’re all talk, kid. I’m off to make friends!”

“Bastard!” I yelled, leaping out of the car and towards her. I was too late, she just about ran over to them, and I was quickly in tow behind her. 

“Well, look at that, Lee! New people. Hi there, I'm Harriet, but you can call me Harry. and this is Rosalie.” She extended her hand towards the three strangers.

“Its Lee actually, she’s just an asshole.” 

All of them looked slightly taken aback. They were sure as hell wasn’t expecting her hand in their face, or two random ladies in their space. The newly named “hot stranger” was the first to speak up. He seemed rightly hesitant.

“I’m Jack, and this is my sister, Meg. This over here is my nephew, Ben. He’s our pinball wizard. Or Roadie in technical terms.” 

“Well, good to meet Y’all!” Once she shook ben’s hand, he spoke up. Man he was young. Was he maybe 16? Not over 18 is the point.

“You guys played a hell of a show. The Stooges? Blues? You’re going to give these two a run for their money.”

Jack shifted on his heels when ben mentioned this. Same face as before, and little less friendly than introductions.

“Well, its all that Tennessee blood in us. Now we arent from Memphis, but Nashville’s close enough, right?” Harriet winked at the kid. His cheeks flushed a deep red. 

Jack shifted his eyes back to me, but they wander somewhere else. 

I clear my throat, he snaps his head up and makes eye contact with me, a small smirk falls on his face. 

“Well, you all seem busy, so Harriet and I are going to go back over there. Have a good show.”

I grab her arm and try to drag her away casually.

“What the fuck are you doing?” She whisper yells to me. We find ourselves on the other side of our van, out of their sight.

“Lee, You have never been one to shy away from new people. Especially men. Remember us, fresh out of high school? You practically had a different man in your bed every night. That whole nervous persona is new. Go seduce a hot stranger!”

“Jesus, Harriet! Lower your goddamn voice! First off its Jack, And yes I know. Different times though. I’m not going to go over there in front of his sister and prepubescent nephew to try and get in his pants.”

“Aw, come on, Lee! It’d be fun! Plus, you need a fucking rebound, girl.”

“Okay, well, talk me into this when its not a family reunion.” 

“You got yourself a deal, Rosalie.”

We started to make our way back to the other girls.

“Alright, ladies, let’s go catch our headliner,” I said, opening the van doors. A plume of smoke rolled out of it the moment the doors opened. I grabbed the joint from Ezra, taking a hit before going inside. I handed it back to the faded bass player and headed back inside.

[captaincvans]

Chapter Three: Tear Me to Pieces

11/01/19

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 2502+

Warnings: Language; Panic Attack; Angst; Angry!Chris; Sad!Chris

Series Masterpost

A/N: I think I’ll stick with posting biweekly (once every two weeks) as it seems to fit my schedule most. It’s been tough trying to fit writing in with my grad school, but I am trying to balance everything! You get an extra long chapter though! I hope you enjoy and pleaseee lemme know what you think! I appreciate every comment, ask about this fic 💕

“I don’t know what to do, mom,” Chris cried on the phone. He was desperate for some answers as the feeling of dread took over his heart. His career and his personal life has what he felt like being destroyed in a matter of weeks, and he was overwhelmed with so many emotions. 

“Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry that you’re going through all of this,” Lisa immediately cooed sympathetically. “Have you been able to see Jenna at all?” With them being so close, it was no surprise that Lisa knew the name of Chris’s therapist back in Boston. Chris had actually gone to a couple of sessions with his father, wanting to mend a few troubles the two had in a safe place. 

There was a beat of silence, and he answered with a small, “No.” 

“Oh, it’s okay, baby. Do you want me to book you an appointment with her?” Lisa was worried that Chris hadn’t been seeing anyone throughout this whole ordeal. She could tell how overwhelmed he was, and she knew he needed someone more than her at this moment. 

“S’okay. I’ll call her tonight.” 

Her heart was breaking at the sound of his defeated voice, the 38 year-old sounding more like a child, and it pulled at her heartstring. “Okay. Text me when you’re going. I’ll come by and drop you off. We can make a whole adventure out of it.”

“Okay,” he said quietly, saying goodbye to his mother before ending the call. He made an appointment with Jenna, who scheduled him in for the next day, hearing the gravity of the situation. A text pinged on his phone not long after, his personal assistant, John Diangelo, asking if he can come by. He texted back with a ‘yes’, needing a friend through this all and wanting to inform John of his manager’s crime. 

Chris sat on his couch, Dodger in the crate sensing the tension in the house. He sat there, numb and broken. It could’ve been hours and he wouldn’t have realized. The only thing that got him out of his reverie was the knock on the door. With drawn out, sluggish movements, he got to the door, opening to reveal his sympathetic PA. 

“How are you holding up, brother?” the Kansas-born man asked with a soft smile. 

“I don’t know, John. I really don’t know,” Chris whispered, sitting down on his couch with his head in his hands. “I don’t know what to do.” 

“Take it one day at a time. It’s all you can do,” he said, running his hand through his ginger hair. “Has the police found anything?”

“It was Daniel. He’s the one stealing money from me.”

“Holy shit,” John cursed, leaning on the wall behind Chris. 

“And while we were talking to him, he said someone else was involved.”

“Who?” John asked urgently, eyes wide in concern and anticipation. 

“Y/N.”

“No fucking way,” John muttered, his voice coming out breathier than usual. 

Chris shook his head. “I can’t believe this. I just can’t believe this. I was going to propose,” he confessed. 

John was at a loss of words, not knowing how to comfort the man. Anything he said would sound ingenuine. “It’ll get better, brother. At least you found out sooner than later.” 

“I guess so,” Chris mumbled. He blinked a few times, his red-rimmed eyes hurting with every blink. “I’m gonna go pack up her stuff.”

“Do you need any help?”

“No, it’s alright. I can pack’em myself.” 

“Okay. I can take her stuff down once you’re finished with them, and let her know they’re ready for her to pick up if you want?”

“That would be great. Thank you, John.” With robotic movements, Chris went to the bedroom he once shared with the love of his life, and started packing. 

Six Months Later

The investigation slowed down a bit as they kept hitting roadblocks with the press. It became a more high profile case, and the attention it received hindered people from doing their job as they were harassed by the press. They were relentless once they caught a whiff of the drama unfolding in Chris’s life. He tried to keep the issue as private as possible, but it was hard to when there were so many moving parts involved- from the fraud investigators, the police officers in charge of his case, and Kevin and his accounting firm that is doing a complete audit of Chris’s finances. There were a lot of people involved, one of the was bound to sell the story to the press. 

Captain America Breaks Up with Girlfriend Over Money?

Chris Evan’s Girlfriend a Gold Digger?

Chris Evan Found to Have Fired Manager Over Fraud

Headline after headline, they wrote it all. Rumours and assumptions being thrown around, and articles that were only half truth. With the leaks of the news, there was another investigation launched to find the person who was leaking Chris’s personal information to the public. Chris couldn’t go anywhere without being followed by the press. He hired bodyguards for himself and his family, hating the fact that they were victims to his problems. 

It marked the 25th week of the investigation, the end was almost in sight. One of the newly hired fraud investigators was caught selling information to the press, and was quickly fired from the company. Everyone else had to sign a tighter non-disclosure form that was created by Chris’s legal team. 

It was a gloomy Friday, the rainy day finally easing up as peak summer hit the town of Massachusetts. Chris just finished his daily morning walk with Dodger, hating the humid rain as much as his little dog did. Scott was staying at his place for a few days, trying to distract him from it all, and trying to pull him back out of his isolation. His usual goofy self was nowhere to be seen as he became paranoid of the next person to take advantage of him. Aside from his family, he’s been ignoring a lot of his friends, and only recently gotten back in touch with them. 

Just as he finally cooled down from the AC in his house, his phone rang. 

“Hey Jason, what’s up?”

“We got some new information. Do you mind coming by the station?”

Chris sighed, rubbing his forehead. It seems like he couldn’t catch a break with all the information that was hitting him. 

“Chris? You okay?”

“Yea, yea. Sorry. Just got distracted for a bit- I can be there in half an hour or so.” 

“Alright. See you soon.” 

“You good?” Scott asked, entering the kitchen as Chris was finishing up his call. Dodger happily jumped towards him, begging to be given attention which he happily gave. 

“Yea. Jason just said they have more information and needed me to come down.”

“Want me to come with you?”

He gave a non-committal shrug. 

“Alright. Lemme just get changed, and we can go.” 

The two brothers met up with Jason and Diana Bass, she was in charge of the whole investigation and was working closely with Jason to finish everything in a timely matter. They walked to a small meeting room, both brothers refusing any refreshments as the tension built in the room. 

“While we were investigation Y/N, we found something else,” Jason said, his eyebrows pulled together anxiously. 

“What is it?” 

“We investigated all of Y/N’s accounts, and we did not find any extra deposits. Instead, we found monthly withdrawals. We followed the money, and it was going to an account created by John Diangelo, your personal assistant.”

“Fuck! Him too?” Scott growled, putting a hand on his brother’s shoulder for solidarity. 

Dianna nodded sympathetically. “Unfortunately, he seemed to be the mastermind of the whole operation. We went through his files and exchanges with Ms. L/N to see what the relationship was as we thought she was sending him the money she took from you to put in an offshore account like with Daniel, but there were only brief communication from prior years, most of them regarding your schedules. There were no indications that they talked beyond your schedule. We did, however, find a letter addressed to Ms. L/N in his computer about the terms your relationship with her.”

Chris tilted his head in confusion. “What terms?”

“In this letter, it said that in the case that you broke up with her for reasons that are unequivocally her fault, she will be forced to pay back the material cost of your relationship. Any time you paid for her, whether it was dinner or anniversary gifts, she must pay it back 100%. And as far as she knows, your separation was caused because you were “unhappy with her” as she quoted in our interrogation so she paid the cost.” 

“What the fuck? We never had such agreements! That’s ridiculous- I would never make her do such things.” Chris was pissed, even more so than his staff stealing money, they were blackmailing people too. He thought they were pretty messed up to think of such things. Even in previous relationships where his girlfriend had cheated on him, lied to him, and manipulated him, he would never think to have them pay back. 

“Ms. L/N confirmed that she had signed that agreement somewhere in the two-year make of your relationship. It was given to her by Mr. Diangelo privately in which he requested her utmost discretion, and it also had your signature.” 

“What?! No- No- I never signed anything like that!”

“We sent the letter to your legal team, but we can almost confirm that Mr. Diangelo had forged your signature in that letter as your letter was on the file and there was no evidence of an original physical copy. Regardless, it is not a binding contract as it never went through any of your lawyers.”

“Unfortunately, Y/N doesn’t know that,” Jason continued. “She thought she did have to pay everything back, and we are trying to gather more information as we speak, but I’m guessing there are no merit to the numbers he pulled.” 

“That’s fucking messed up!” Chris growled, one his hand resting on his hip and the other rubbing his chin anxiously. 

“We cannot disclose the amount Ms. L/N paid Mr. Diangelo, but are working to finish up the investigation so the money can be returned to her.” 

“So she wasn’t working with Daniel and John?” Chris confirmed, not knowing whether he preferred knowing the truth or not. 

“We cannot draw any conclusions at this time,” Diana stated. 

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, the guilt starting to bubble in his stomach. “ Okay…” Chris  shook hands with Diana before she parted ways. He then turned to Jason, “Was she involved at all?” 

“Chris,” Jason said in a warning tone. 

“Please- I- I just gotta know.” 

“I just know from the financial side of things, and there was nothing to indicate that she was involved, Chris. She could’ve had the money transferred to another account or something, but so far nothing’s come up except for her payments to John.”

“Ho-How much did she pay?” 

Jason sighed, shaking his head. “Chris, I can’t tell you that.”

“Please- Please just give me an approximate- I just need to know-”

“She paid 3⁄4 of it, including the damage fee. She said she wanted to get rid of the debt as soon as possible so you didn’t have to worry about it.” 

“How much?”

“Chris-”

“How much?!” Chris all but yelled, standing up from his chair and knocking it over in the process. His chest was heaving, and his fist shaking as his eyes glossed with tears. 

“The number he gave her was close to $40 000 that she had to pay in the span of five years, and in the event that she couldn’t pay the monthly installments, she would have to pay an interest of 10%- not to mention the damage fee that he included of $10 000.” 

It was at that moment, Chris knew she was never involved. He felt like a huge fog has lifted from his brain, as if he finally cleared his brain after a bad hangover. The past few months felt like a nightmare, but it was then that he realized, this was his reality. His manager and personal assistant tricked him, manipulated him, stole from him, and he believed them when they said that his girlfriend was a part of it all. Even if she was, the way he treated her that night. Chris felt like a monster, a stranger living in his own skin. Looking back, he can’t even recognize himself, the words he said, the things he called her. They were unforgivable.  “Jesus Christ, Jason. I-I-I  fucked up. She wasn’t even at fault, and I blamed her.”

“We don’t know that, Chris. For all we know she could still have some part in this.”

Chris ignored him, shaking his head. He knew, and deep down he’s always known that she was never a part of this all. “Is she still here? Can I see her?” He looked around, desperate to see a glimpse of the woman he thought he would be his fiancee by now. 

“She left already, said she needed to get to work.” 

Scott peered at his brother from the corner of his eyes, looking more worried as Chris’s breathing got uneven. “Hey, hey, hey. C’mon-” He sat him down again, gently easing him into another chair. “C’mon, Chris. You gotta breathe.” 

“She didn’t do anything wrong,” Chris cried repeatedly, face turning red at his inability to breathe. “She didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“I’ll get him some water,” Jason said, giving his friend some space. 

“She wasn’t- She wasn’t- She didn’t do anything wrong, Scotty.”

“Shh, shh. It’s okay. We don’t know that.”

“I said so many awful things to her.” Chris cried, his hand covering his mouth as bile crawled up his throat. “Oh God, I think I’m going to be sick.” 

Scott saw how pale Chris had gotten, turning around to grab the small garbage can and put it below the leaning man just as Chris coughed up bile. 

“The- The baby!” Chris exclaimed, inadvertently knocking the paper cup from Jason’s hand as his hand grabbed his friend’s sleeve. “Was she- How’s the baby? Did you see her bump? Does she look healthy?” 

Jason didn’t know how to answer that question. Before this whole ordeal, he has only seen Y/N through pictures from the press, and never met her in person. Either way, there was no way she was pregnant when he met her. “She- She didn’t look that pregnant?” Jason said uneasily, not knowing how to break the news. 

“Wh-What?” Chris said to himself, shaking his head. “No… Please, God no… No, no, no... ” He shrunk back on the couch, whimpering how stupid he was, and rubbing his chest as if it could appease the weight on his heart as he realized his mistake.

<-- (Chapter 2)           (Chapter 4) -->

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[warriorteam1924]

It’s late, but not too late....

John Deacon x Veronica Tetzlaff

Author note : Hello my beauties. here I am for day 2 of Deaky’s 71th birthday. I’m not following any prompts, it’s just birthday themed. I’ve been super busy lately and I’m aware it’s not my best piece, but  I hope some of you will enjoy it anyways. Thanks in advance to anyone who will be giving honest feedback, it’s always very appreciated. Also, I remind you English isn’t my mother tongue, apologies in advance for the mistakes.

Warnings : none really, just my awful writing. and a slight sexual innuendo.... 

Summary : it’s gonna be John’s birthday !!! 

Words count : 1,273 words

Permanent taglist : @reavenedges-lies​ @thosequeenboys​ @born-to-lose​  @orionis8689​ @queenlover05​​ (communicate with me regarding tagging please)

It was another long day for John Deacon. Recording at the studio was never easy, since there were actually four people to please. Of course, he loved being bassist for the band Queen, but it would have been a lie to state it was not tiring.

 Roger Taylor, drummer for the band, was usually okay with most things. Since bass and drums were working in harmony, musically speaking, it was quite easy for the two of them to agree on a tempo or a specific rhythm at some point of the song.

 Brian May, guitarist for Queen, was very self-critical. He was an amazing guitarist, and yet, when it came to solos, he always thought he could try again, willing to give an even better performance.

 As for Freddie Mercury, lead singer for the band, that was another story. The man always had a very specific idea of what he wanted a song to be, and recording just one segment could take hours.

 But John knew it was the right thing to do. Why produce music if it wasn’t to give the audience what they wanted, if it wasn’t to be the best? Yes, it was tiring, but on the other hand, it was totally worth it.

 And now, John also had a girlfriend. Her name was Veronica. They hadn’t been together for a very long time, but the bass player already knew it was serious. They were trying to spend as much time as they could together, between him being with the band and her handling her job as a teacher in preschool.

 It was the case that night. John quickly checked his watch, hoping it wasn’t too late to see her. He was tired, that was for sure, but they had agreed to see each other that night, and there was no way he was going back on his promise.

 He gently parked on the free spot right in front of her place. He was glad he had found a spot so easily, since he usually had to park way further and walk to her apartment. He got out of the car, locked it, and leaned to pick a couple of flowers on the grass. It wasn’t much, he was aware, but it was always better than arriving empty handed.

 John knocked at her door and Veronica rapidly opened, jumping in his arms and kissing his cheek. He couldn’t help but blush, and suddenly wondered it she’d always have this effect upon him. She led him to the living room, where drinks were already on the coffee table, as well as what seemed to be a collection of sandwiches.

 “Are you planning on feeding an army with that?”, John joked as he comfortably sat on the sofa.

 Veronica chuckled and sat next to him.

 “Of course not, but I know you’re always hungry after a recording session….”, she replied.

 “Hum, that's true.”, he said, leaning to take a sandwich, which was delicious. “Or maybe it’s a lie and there are kids hidden everywhere, ready to jump on me to make me play with them until my body is nothing more but a flat crepe.”, he said, as he was chewing.

 “Who knows? Maybe I want an army of kids. Maybe I want them with you?”, she teased him, as she also helped herself with a sandwich.

 An army of kids. John wasn’t sure he was ready for that. He wished they had time together before expanding the family. He also started to consider the expansion of the said family, thinking one or two kids might be good enough to be a real family. (Little did he know….)

 As they usually did when they met, they started to randomly talk, about anything and everything, telling each other about their days, Ronnie stating cute facts about the kids at preschool, or John trying to explain how his homemade amp was working like magic. They also liked to remind the other how much they were in love, intertwining their fingers and putting soft pecks in each other’s necks.

 John was fully enjoying this moment and was trying hard not to yawn.  His belly was fully of delicious food his loved one had prepared for him and the cool summer air coming from the window was softly rocking him. And of course, there was Veronica’s voice, a constant lullaby to his ears.

 “John, are you listening to me?”, Veronica suddenly asked as she firmly shook his shoulder.

 “What? Yes of course…. Why?”, he startled.

 “Cause your eyes were closed and you were heavily snoring.”, she replied, slightly annoyed.

 “Oh, gosh. I’m sorry. It’s really been a long day. Maybe I should call it a night.”, he said.

 “You want to leave already?”, she asked, looking at him.

 What was John supposed to do? She was looking at him with her puppy eyes, her secret weapon to make sure he would comply with her every desire.

 “Well….”, he hesitated.

 Her eyes were now wet, were there actual tears?

 “No, of course, I’m staying with you a bit longer….”, he smiled, kissing her nose.

 Veronica smiled as well and carried on talking, as John was nodding. He was aware only half of the information she was giving him was actually going to his brain, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He was too tired to really pay attention.

 John’s thoughts started to wander on their own. He wondered how ‘a bit longer’ could be different from one person to another. ‘A bit longer’ meant maybe half an hour to him. But it seemed that to Ronnie’s point of view, it was more like a couple of hours.

 John was fighting hard not to close his eyes, trying to focus on Veronica’s mouth, that was endlessly moving. How could someone have so many things to say? His brain also carried on repeating the same sentences.

 ‘Don’t look at your watch. Not now, nor later, nor never. Your watch doesn’t exist, time has no longer a meaning.’

 Suddenly, the massive clock rang, making him stand up. He looked daggers at the cuckoo clock, happily singing its tune.

 “Oh, look at that….”, Veronica said, smiling. “Midnight already….”

 John looked at her, wondering why she was actually beaming. His thoughts were no longer coherent and all he wanted to do now was cook the cuckoo clock and eat it for lunch.

 “Do you know what it means….?”, she carried on, still widely smiling.

 “No, no, is there anything special? Oh, gosh, what did I forget?”, he grimaced, already feeling guilty he might have forgotten an event, related to the two of them.

 “Seems you’ve forgotten indeed….”, she said, raising her eyebrows.

 “Oh, no. No, no, no….”, he replied, passing his hand in his long hair.

 “Happy birthday, John”, she said a bit louder, taking him in her arms and kissing him.

 John frowned but kissed her back.

 She was right, since the previous day was the 18th of August, that meant it was now the 19th of August. And so, it was his birthday.

 “oh my my my, you’re treating me too kindly….”, he said after they quitted their embrace.

 “I wanted to be the first one to wish you a happy birthday. You’re my boyfriend and I love you….”, she replied.

 “I love you too….”, he said, looking at her with the kindest eyes.

 She looked at him teasingly and turned, her back now facing him.

 “Maybe you want to open your present now….?”, she asked, putting her hand on the top of her dress, showing her zipper.

 And suddenly, John Deacon was no longer tired.

[seanhowe]

The Dave Pike Set, Live at the Philharmonie

https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x6076lt

Liner Notes by Heinz Werner Wunderlich; translated by Sylvia Wunderlich 

This is the third record of the Dave Pike Set that has been made within a year, not counting the contribution to the live-recording “MPS-Jazz-Concert ‘69”. I would have to think hard to find a European group with similar success. But why waste time pondering — let us join these four in enjoying their triumph and listen to what they present here in this their third record of swinging surprises. 

When you listen to “Live at the Philharmonie”, the discussion about the Berlin Jazz Days '69 has probably not yet ended. It was — and still is — a tough one, and we don’t want to get into it. There is only one thing that I would like to point out, because it may be of some importance, in that this is a live recording from that festival: actually the discussion seems to be about the audience. Can an admirer of free jazz or a fan of progressive pop be expected to listen to at least half of a concert of straight jazz? Or can one — take the reverse — expect that the ardent listener of traditional jazz or swing be all ears to rock 'n’ roll? Can one try to introduce those in either bag to music, that they regard as jazz of their grandfathers (or their sons)? And can one hope, that they tolerate this supposedly uninteresting something for at least an hour, and not spoil with booing the joy of listening for those for whom it is not at all uninteresting? For what else sparked the discussion if not the “boos”? 

Stop! — we didn’t want to get involved in this because, if there was a group at the Berlin Jazz Days '89 that was omitted from this battle of the spoken and written words, it was the Dave Pike Set. 

“Well, they play music for every taste” is what you hear and one is horrified at the insult contained in this “compliment.” Actually it is just an unfortunate formulation. If one says: "The music of this quartet can be enjoyed by everyone because it swings, because it is progressive, but still based on tradition,” then this sounds not much more elegant, but it is to the point. Instead of the familiar statement, “an excellent mixture of jazz and pop”, the words that John O'Brien-Docker used when he introduced the Set in Berlin hit home: “an interesting combination of experience and discovery”. This is exactly what it is, and those who have ears to hear, let them put this record on and absorb the musical trip into the past and the future, let alone the present. A group with the quality, substance and concrete concepts of the Set can allow itself to integrate in good conscience into its music any and all elements that it and — as its success shows — it’s audience think fit together: free and “normal” jazz, progressive rock, oriental sounds and a lot more. So, the Dave Pike Set is a group that the conservative as well as the progressive fans can really appreciate. Isn’t that something? 

One expects to find general information about the musicians on a record cover. But I want to pass over this chapter. Those who own the two previous records are well enough informed, and those who begin their Pike collection with this album will, without a doubt, try to get the first two as soon as possible (Noisy Silence — Gentle Noise, MPS 15215 and Four Reasons, MPS 15253). 

There was lots to do this past year of 1969. The MPS tour, the festivals in Alba Regia, Hungary; Ljubljana, Yugoslavia; Montreux, Switzerland; Prague, Czechoslovakia and Berlin. Polish fans waited in vain though, as the plane could not land in Warsaw due to fog. Then there was the Holy Hill Jazz Meeting in Heidelberg; the radio exhibition in Stuttgart and a tremen-dous number of concerts and club performan-ces from Aarau to Villingen. The four could be seen on TV too, for instance in the Jazz-workshop of the North German Radio Network and in the Dusty Springfield Show. No wonder, that with this success, the fame of the Set even spread to the United States. In Down Beat’s 17th International Jazz Critics Poll one can find the Dave Pike Set in fourth place among the combos, which according to the tough judges deserve a wider recognition. This actually was real fast, because the group was founded just short of a year before the results of this poll were published. 

On this record you can hear what actually happened on stage of the Berlin Philharmonic, the evening of November 7th, 1989. And you hear it clearly and obviously, that a detailed comment on each number is superfluous. 

Nevertheless, a few remarks: 

Hey Duke presents the Set’s contribution to the Ellington-Homage which was the overall theme of this festival. It is a combination of three single compositions, one by Dave and two by Volker. Choruses by Dave and Hans frame fascinating, free collective improvisations. 

Mambo Jack The Scoffer features Volker on the unamplified guitar. An extremely cheerful and catchy, novelly constructed tune with a country & western touch, that could easily become a hit. Solos by Volker and Dave, who was inspired to compose this number by thinking of Mambo Jack, a funny dance teacher near New York. 

Riff For Rent is a typical, swinging Kriegel composition, a blues in eighths. Volker and Dave solo against the background that has become a trade mark of Hans and Peter, one of the best European rhythm groups. 

Nobody’s Afraid Of Howard Monster is a real vexatious thing. That’s why the four simply called it “Monster”, before it got it’s final and defiant title. A short introduction by Hans and Peter, then the theme, in which the rhythm changes from bar to bar, beginning with 4/4, moving to 5/4, 6/4, 7/4, 6/4, 5/4 and to 2/4. Dave’s chorus is in 4/4, Volker’s in 7/4. After Peter’s solo Hans shows his talent on the cello with a blues that changes from an eleven to a twelve bar structure. Another drum solo (Hans makes a fast switch back to the bass-guitar), and then the theme again as in the beginning. 

In The Secret Mystery Of Hensh Volker tries to create a strange but peaceful atmosphere through a “touch of India”. The theme here is modal, that means based on one tone, and consists of only two motifs. Choruses by Dave and Volker, then a sudden accelerando changes the ballad-like beauty into a free, collective chaos, in which Hans presents brillant flageolett passages. The inspiration for this piece was Dave’s weird, but apparently good natured dog, Hensh. 

These are just a few of the things you’ll hear. There are many more, and I bet you’ll dig “Live at the Philharmonie” as I do. 

Dave Pike, Vibraphone

Volker Kriegel, Guitar

J. A. Rettenbacher, Bass, Cello, E-Bass 

Peter Baumeister, Drums

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 30/01/2021 (Wellerman, Fredo, Sabrina Carpenter, Billie Eilish & ROSALÍA)

I’ve never been more thankful for a song being this big – “drivers license” by Olivia Rodrigo spends a third week at #1, blocking “WITHOUT YOU” by The Kid LAROI at #2. Thank God. Anyway, we’ve got 10 new arrivals so let’s cut the chit-chat and start REVIEWING THE CHARTS.

Rundown

Of course, after this brief rundown we always do. Thankfully, the site actually updated last week, so I can go through this as routinely as possible. For drop-outs, it’s a lot of recent new arrivals falling out either off the debut or a few weeks after – most of them being pretty crap – but we do have some notable drop-outs, like “Forever Young” by Becky Hill, “Plugged In Freestyle” by A92 and Fumez the Engineer, “pov” by Ariana Grande, “Love is a Compass” by Griff, “Tick Tock” by Clean Bandit and Mabel featuring 24kGoldn, “Lasting Lover” by Sigala and James Arthur, and finally, “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran. Now to move onto the chart proper, we do have some movement to discuss. Firstly, we have some fallers, those being “Dynamite” by BTS at #32, “positions” by Ariana Grande at #39, “Lemonade” by Internet Money and Gunna featuring Don Toliver and NAV at #41, “All I Want” by Olivia Rodrigo at #43 off of the return, “SO DONE” by The Kid LAROI at #46, “Best Friend” by Saweetie featuring Doja Cat at #47, “Midnight Sky” by Miley Cyrus at #48, “What You Know Bout Love” by the late Pop Smoke at #51, “Wellerman” by the Longest Johns practically being replaced at #52 (We’ll discuss this more later), “See Nobody” by Wes Nelson and Hardy Caprio at #53, “Notorious” by Bugzy Malone and Chip at #55, “Looking for Me” by Paul Woodford, Diplo and Kareen Lomax at #60, “Bad Boy” by the late Juice WRLD and Young Thug unfortunately purging to #62, “WAP” by Cardi B featuring Megan Thee Stallion at #67, “Pinging (6 Figures)” by Central Cee crashing off of the debut to #72 and “Diamonds” by Sam Smith at #74, joining our two returning entries – which are just older songs getting another brief pick-up at the bottom of the charts. Those are “Baby Shark” by Pinkfong and “Shallow” by Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper at #75 and #73 respectively, by the way. Oh, and we also have “Martin & Gina” by Polo G at #65, but I honestly can’t see that song going anywhere – and I really like it. This doesn’t mean that we don’t have any gains, however, as finally, we can see some rising hits trying to fill in the cracks, like both of Rudimental’s debuts from last week: “Be the One” with MORGAN, TIKE and Digga D is up to #58, whilst the incredibly worse single “Regardless” with RAYE is cracking into the top 40 at #40. Sigh, well, we do have some more promising gains, like... “Heat Waves” by Glass Animals at #38? “Friday” by Riton, Nightcrawlers and Musafa & Hypeman at #37 off of the debut? Okay, 2021 might end up being pretty rough, huh? Thankfully, we have a plentiful amount of new arrivals to waive any of my fears, so let’s just start with those.

NEW ARRIVALS

#70 – “Overpriced” – M Huncho

Produced by Quincy Tellem

Oh, come on! Okay, so this is M Huncho, UK trao’s answer to the late MF DOOM, except without any of the lyrical complexity, storytelling abilities, genuine wit, charming sampling and production techniques, brilliant discography... he’s pretty much just a guy whose main gimmick is the mask, and it’s on this single cover too, seemingly in a museum. This song in particular is just one of these melodic trap cuts with wavy acoustic guitars blended with synths beyond recognition, topped off with odd bass mastering and a checked-out performance from M Huncho, who spends way too much time on his verses going “doo-doo-doo-doo-doo”, before the beat switches for a verse that fades out after like 20 seconds. What’s the point of any of this, honestly? It’s not awful – the bass does kind of knock – but I really don’t understand why this is here, or why M Huncho is a big name. It’s not even as good as AJ Tracey’s trap bangers and it’s not even as funny as D-Block Europe, which I’m surprised by, considering that he had his own stupid hit with “Pee Pee” around this time last year, and that song was actually good. Also, M Huncho, what do you think your fans get from you dissing them? If you’re going to brag about your “house by the lake” and then rap about how some unnamed individual “still lives at their mum’s in a council estate”, consider that a lot of your audience will still live with their parents in council housing or be surrounded by people who do. Someone who really came from poverty should know that this is classist and disrespectful to your own demographic. Yeah, this is worthless. Why’s this guy still charting? At least Young Adz knows how to write a hook.

#65 – “New Love” – Silk City and Ellie Goulding

Produced by Silk City and Picard Brothers

Okay, so we do have some energy on the chart – or at least half of the credited acts have. Silk City is a duo of producers, those being Diplo, a true weirdo in mainstream EDM who’s honestly kind of fascinating and oftentimes a fluke genius (especially in its work in Major Lazer and Jack U with Skrillex), and Mark Ronson, one of the greatest producers of the 21st century so far, probably most known for “Uptown Funk!”. These guys did have a hit together with Dua Lipa in 2018 in the form of “Electricity”, but it’s been a while and I’m interested to see how they work with the complete non-presence that is Ellie Goulding. It’s with some level of disappointment that I say that she’s not a non-presence here, as this is otherwise a pretty neat house tune with some excellent 90s keys and a deep-house groove I think is pretty fun. The strings in the pre-chorus are great and build-up to a fantastic chorus... or at least the instrumental is fantastic, because Goulding is a waste here, mixed way too high and honestly just faltering her vocals here. She sounds awkward through multi-tracking and even worse without it, as she clearly goes for a rough swagger that cannot work with her light, almost fairy-like voice she’s relied on much of her career. The intricacies of this production are really admirable, but Goulding was clearly an afterthought. With a real diva on vocals, or honestly just a sample of a soul or diva house track, this could be excellent. As it is, I’m bored. Next.

#63 – “Typhoons” – Royal Blood

Produced by Royal Blood

Oh, okay. Well, this is a pleasant surprise. Royal Blood are an English garage rock duo that rock pretty hard, and don’t go for anything else beyond that, which to me is a breath of fresh air, and, yeah, this is good. Is it as good as their debut? Of course not, their biggest hit “Figure it Out” is still incredible, and this one goes for a more synthesized 70s feel, even accentuated by disco keys in the pre-chorus. The riffs are still here though, as that main guitar line is pretty awesome. I see this as a mix of garage rock revival bands from the 2000s like the White Stripes, as well as some stoner-adjacent bands like Queens of the Stone Age, with a more classic hard-rock groove and Mike Kerr’s signature yelp, and it works for what it is, so I’m excited for that upcoming single. Nothing’s particularly impressive here, but I’ll definitely go for this over the rest of what we have charting, so I’m not complaining. This is good, you should check these guys out, even if they tend to be a bit derivative. That tense bridge with the looming background vocals and intensifying riff is genuinely epic, by the way, even if there isn’t much more of a pay-off behind just... the chorus again, which ends up rendering as flat as a result. Regardless, it’s a good break from the norm – which for a chart week like this, I’m especially glad is here.

#61 – “Your Love (9PM)” – ATB, Topic and A75

Produced by ATB, Topic and Rudi Dittmann

German DJ ATB was showing his girlfriend his new recording studio when he got carried away with a single guitar sound and made a song out of it, “9PM (Till I Come)”, named after the time the track was finished. Later on, he took the track and added some whispered vocals from Spanish model Yolanda Riviera. This happened in 1999, by the way, when this song was released to great success in Europe, leading to a hilariously dated album cover but still a UK #1. The song is honestly kind of bad, relying on a pretty typical house groove, ugly MIDI guitars and that seductive vocal loop. Regardless, since 90s nostalgia has come way too fast, Topic has remixed the track with A75, a collaboration we’ve seen before on “Breaking Me” from last year, which sucked. To be fair, the original song is pretty empty, so I’m interested to hear A75 add some vocals... and he just sounds pained over a deep-house rip of the original. The ugly MIDI melody stays, just now it’s drowned out and even more synthesized – this is the guitar sound you liked so much? I hope she left you. Let’s move on.

#59 – “My Head & My Heart” – Ava Max

Produced by Jonas Blue, Earwulf and Cirkut

Speaking of being bored, here’s pop singer Ava Max, with a new lead single from the deluxe edition of her debut studio album, Heaven & Hell. This one’s produced by Jonas Blue, which, alongside a redundant “Jonas Blue remix”, is probably why it’s charting. What’s sad is it’s not really very good, as the vocals are over-processed over fake hand-claps and clipping mixes that make those plastic synths sound even worse. Admittedly, I like the rubbery future bass-esque bass line here, but that’s really as far as my appreciation for this goes, as the writing is non-existent, and Ava Max is barely here. It’s honestly really similar to “New Love”, except this one’s not even as interesting as that track, going for an exhaustingly tired house-pop style that while she is a natural fit for, it does make the 2000s synth-pop she started with sound inspired in comparison. Oh, and the “Jonas Blue remix” is practically a glorified bass-boost that makes this sound even uglier, so, yeah, skip this.

#42 – “Apricots” – Bicep

Produced by Bicep

Bicep is a Northern Irish electronic duo from Belfast, and this is an instrumental from their most recent album, Isles, which clearly must have stood out enough for it to debut at #42. I can understand why too, as that sample from Hugh Tracey’s African music recordings, particularly the vocal sample used, is really infectious and interesting. I don’t think everything surrounding it is enough to really make it less annoying, as it running through nearly the entirety of a four-minute track makes this sample lose its lustre too quickly. It runs its course far before the song has the chance to build up into a house track, with that sample crushing everything that isn’t the percussion in the mix anyway. The keys are really cool, and I can’t fault the strings and ambiance that keeps the song building up for as long as it does. It also takes a sample from a Bulgarian folk choir, which they paralleled to the Celtic folk they grew up hearing, and honestly, this is just a cool blending of global music rather than an actually good song, ending with me respecting this more than actually enjoying it. The synths by the end sound fantastic as does the Bulgarian chanting, but it doesn’t really have a great climax or drop to make the build-up worth it, defaulting to a generic house groove by the end that fades out before it can have any real impact. So, yeah, this isn’t bad, but feels like a waste of some really great ideas. I guess I can say that “Northern Irish remix of an English ethnomusicologist’s recordings of African music that also samples a Bulgarian folk tune” isn’t quite as much of a developed idea as “Kazakh remix of an American rapper of Guyanese descent’s trap song in a Brazilian house style released on a Russian record label”.

#35 – “Lo Vas A Olvidar” – Billie Eilish and ROSALÍA

Produced by FINNEAS

It’s not often that songs in non-English languages chart in the UK. Whilst in the US, Latin music is such a force that it’ll launch hits for many Spanish-speaking artists, this isn’t the case in decidedly smaller Britain, where a still multicultural society tends to produce art that is always in English. To be fair, we don’t have a place like Puerto Rico, and the few songs I’ve talked about this year that have been in a different language... well, basically the one song I can remember off the top of my head, was in a Nigerian Creole language. So, why’s a Spanish song by Spanish artist ROSALÍA charting so high? Well, it’s also a Billie Eilish song, and it’s also from the HBO teen drama Euphoria. Yeah, a teen drama makes a lot of sense for Eilish to soundtrack. This has been teased since 2019, and is actually ROSALÍA’s first song to chart here in the UK, so is it any good? Well, yeah, actually, it is. Both Eilish and ROSALÍA have excellent whispery tones that complement FINNEAS’ muted, ambient production perfectly, and their harmonisation sounds great, with both singing in Spanish here for the most part. That chorus is pretty janky, though, and I don’t really see the point in the Auto-Tuned interludes, even if they both sound great playing off of each other with a lot of tuning in the outro. This is pretty minimal and dare I say awkward, kind of eerie, so I don’t see it sticking around, but as a longing break-up track, they both sell it well. Next.

#28 – “Skin” – Sabrina Carpenter

Produced by Ryan McMahon

Joshua Bassett’s response flopped immensely, meaning that now it’s Sabrina Carpenter’s time to shine, because if it’s anything she gets out of this Disney love triangle, it’s a hit song, and people clearly want to hear more from the women than they do from Josh. Telling. Now I’m not one to follow Disney teen drama because this is all a marketing gimmick. I mean, the songs dropped every Friday so anyone who can’t see through this is either blind or... a child, and considering the audience, that second one is more likely, which is fine. Popular music is, ultimately, in the hands of teenagers and record executives, and all of these break-up response diss track... things, tend to feed into both hands, whilst also giving these talented young actors a bigger break. This is Carpenter’s first charting hit in the UK, after all. The song is decidedly worse than “drivers license” though, and by a lot, as the mixing here isn’t even competent, as Carpenter’s voice clips through these ugly pianos, worsened by how her voice does not sound great here at all, as she struggles through that terrible chorus. She may say that this isn’t a response to Rodrigo, but given the lyrics and how quickly this rushed release was put out, are we really supposed to believe that? The percussion here is gross as well, drowned in bad reverb that makes this just sound grey and dull. The strings building up to a climax are barely there, and when they are, they sound like they’re elevating a really garbage performance from Carpenter, who can barely keep up. This is supposed to be a ballad yet it sounds so stiff and controlled, meaning that Carpenter trying to let loose on the vocals makes this awkward and painful. I’m sorry, but this is really bad, and I hope it doesn’t stick around. Thankfully, I don’t see that happening.

#20 – “Back to Basics” – Fredo

Produced by Dave

Lil Chocolate Frog’s got a new record out this week that I’ve yet to hear, and this is the lead single, produced by his long-time friend and collaborator, Dave – who’s awesome. I’ve typically been less kind to his mate Fredo but honestly, his ever so slightly off-kilter style has grown on me too, and this song is a pretty good introduction to that. It’s one verse over rattling trap hi-hats and a really eerie vocal sample, and Fredo flows casually and smoothly over the beat, in his typical careless, just barely there style, which works well over a pretty subtle beat like this. Fredo’s lyrics are pretty interesting here too, as amidst flexing and gun-play, he has some pretty funny lines, although far from Dave’s wordplay, rather relying on fun one-liners where he says he’s “kind of Christian”, doing revision on drug trafficking, will run for mayor, and because of how much of the gang violence is sadly amongst ethnic minorities, he himself is racially profiling his “opps”. One line near the end of the track actually made me laugh, when he says he counts up twenties while eating porridge. It’s not funny on paper, sure, but the delivery is gold. He shows more character here than he has since “Funky Friday”, also with Dave, so I’m pretty excited to hear this record, which Dave actually executively produced. It’s also got the late Pop Smoke on a track with Young Adz, so at least I’ll let out more of those laughs. This lead single is pretty good though, and I can see it going top 10 next week with the album boost.

#3 – “Wellerman – Sea Shanty” (220 KID x Billen Ted Remix) – Nathan Evans

Produced by Saltwaves, Billen Ted and 220 KID

Last week, the sea shanty “Wellerman” charted as a cover by the Longest Johns. It’s a fine acapella cover, and this version, by Nathan Evans, was originally similarly acapella, except for the tap of a table as percussion to keep time. This version got even more viral on British TikTok, and if I recall correctly, he quit his job to be signed by Polydor, which is pretty scummy on Polydor’s part. I mean, you know this guy won’t have any more hits. Regardless, this version debuted at #3 thanks to a remix by DJs 220 KID and Billen Ted, three English producers. According to their Spotify duo, Billen Ted used to be a death metal band of all things but then transitioned into writing for dance-pop tunes, and have worked with 220 KID, even if this is technically only their second single. This remix is actually pretty cool to be honest, as it takes the original track and adds some needed energy, mostly through this generic 90s house beat and some admittedly really nice pianos. It’s nothing special, and I would usually criticise something this generic, but the song’s not even two minutes and it’s a pretty inoffensive remix that genuinely adds to the original song through that brilliant flip of the original hook melody in the drop, so I can’t complain. This won’t last, but I’m not mad that it’s here.

Conclusion

I’m actually somewhat pleased with this chart week, which I wasn’t expecting initially, as you can probably tell from my above cynicism. Regardless, we’ve got some variety here (though I don’t see much of it sticking) and I’ll give Best of the Week to Royal Blood for “Typhoons”, with a tied Honourable Mention for “Back to Basics” by Fredo, and, God damn it, “Wellerman” by Nathan Evans and remixed by 220 KID and Billen Ted. Shut up, it’s fun! Worst of the Week will probably go to Sabrina Carpenter’s “Skin”, with a Dishonourable Mention for the complete lack of effort that is M Huncho’s “Overpriced”, just being mildly offensive if anything. Here’s our top 10:

For next week, I mean, a girl can hope for some Weezer, but it’s more likely that we’ll be met with a Fredo album bomb and some scattered efforts from that middling Lil Durk deluxe edition. For now though, you can follow me @cactusinthebank for more ramblings and thanks for reading. I’ll see you next week.

[daggerzine]

European Sun say you’re never too old to be young!

Ok, I could name every single band (and nearly every song) that Rob Pursey and Amelia Fletcher had been in but who was this gent Steve Miles? And where did this band European Sun come from? The record cover and band named name certainly looked intriguing, an obvious homage to the Velvet Underground, and the songs had some Velvets chug to them as well. Their debut came out a few months ago on WIAIWYA label in the UK and I really love what I had heard. Some oddball spoken word folk nudged up against some truly sublime chamber pop. I wanted to know more so I bribed them with tea and biscuits the next time I’m in the UK (17 years from now or so) but they were still more than happy to answer my questions. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, European Sun!

 Steve how did you meet Amelia and Rob?

Steve: I knew Rob in my youth when I was a hermit: he stopped by from time to time to bring me news from the outside world. Sometime after that, Rob and Amy became a couple, as destined in the stars, while I stumbled reluctantly and inexpertly into the world, and we lost touch for a few decades. Then we met again and they said they would like to record some of my songs. The rest is European Sun.

Rob:  What Steve says is true.  He was a hermit, and he was probably the only vegan I knew back in the 1980s.  He referred to me as ‘the Ambassador of Decadence’ because I did things like have the occasional pint with other people in a pub, and eat the occasional sausage roll.

Steve: I still consider that decadent...

Amelia, Steve and Rob in the woods. 

When did the band form (like exact second- ha ha …I’m not funny am I?).

Steve came to play a solo set at an indie weekend in Kent, and Rob and Amy accompanied Steve on one song. We all liked it so much we decided to do more of it. 

Steve, I know Amelia and Rob’s musical history, but how about you? Were you in any previous bands?

Steve: I was and am still in The Short Stories. We released four CDs between 2007 and 2013. Ten years before that I drummed in Modesty Blaise. It feels a bit ambitious to me trying to be in two bands at once but Rob and Amy are in about seventeen so it’s nothing by comparison. 

Rob: We are in four, to be precise.  The Catenary Wires, Swansea Sound, and the Drift.  And of course, European Sun - which, for the purposes of this interview, is the best of them.

How did you guys hook up with WIAIWYA?

Steve: Rob and Amy know John Jervis (WIAIWYA) from long back, and John really liked and understood the first ES recordings we did, so it went from there.

Rob: John has been a good friend and a wonderful supporter of our music for a long time.  He released the first Marine Research single years ago, and the first Catenary Wires single more recently.  He also runs the finest Merch Store in the Western World.

The album cover

Tell us about the recording of the record? Was it COVID-style in separate rooms/homes or together in a studio?

Steve: It was pre-Covid but actually a precursor thereof as we live on opposite sides of the country. I did initial bits at home, sent them over the internet and Rob and Amy worked on those from there. Then there was a glorious period where we were all together, which was the best part - you can see photos on the website – and then some more was done remotely. But once I have created the songs, Rob and Amy (and Ian Button) do the bulk of the playing, and all of the technical aspects. We got together again in late Summer for an online gig and to record a video, both of which can be seen on our Facebook page and YouTube. 

Rob: We didn’t know it, but we were rehearsing for lockdown when we produced this album.   There was that brief period where we were all together, but the rest of the work was done remotely, with us sending mixes and arrangements down the virtual M4 to Steve.  We discovered that it is perfectly possible to work in this way.   It helps that European Sun songs are gentle.  There is no loud drumming.   I did a bit of thunderous bass, but I monitored it in my headphones, so the thunder was private and untroubling to the neighbours.

Steve: ‘Rehearsing for lockdown’ could in fact have been the title of the album, if only we’d thought of it sooner...

Whose idea was the cover of the record (and who did the artwork)?

Steve: I think it was a collective thing but the credit goes to John Jervis, who did all the artwork. As I said, he really understood the ideas and feelings of the band from the outset, and the musical places we came from, so from the idea of Venus for the first single came the idea of the ice cream for Favourite Day and thence to the Velvets pastiche/tribute. We were all surprised it hadn’t been done before, as far as we are aware. If we get rich and famous, we will re-release it with a lickable cover…

How has the response been so far? Any strange reviews?

Steve: No strange reviews - other than by Daggerzine - just lots of really positive feedback - some wonderfully kind comments. It’s perhaps disappointing that we haven’t had more play on the radio so that more people can hear about us. Worth of mouth is great but slow. What has surprised Steve is that almost all the songs on the album have been a ‘favourite’ for one person or another, which is unusual on a record, and clearly justifies the range of styles and moods on there. Releasing it in a pandemic and on vinyl/digital only is probably not marketing move of the century, but it really seems to mean something to the people that have liked it, and that’s worth far more to us than a million people buying it who only listen with half an ear while they exercise or do the washing up.

Once this pandemic is over will a world tour be in order?

Steve: We are hoping that Taylor Swift will ask us to support her on her next outing. Failing that, we will try to organise some gigs ourselves and invite her to support us.

European Sun’s #1 fan!

Tell us some of your favourite current bands.

Steve: The older I get the wider my tastes become and the further back in time I go, so the proportion of new bands on my playlist becomes smaller. My favourite band of people under 25 are Blackwaters. The best album I bought this year is Craig Finn’s I Need A New War, although it came out last year. But if I can also recommend a now defunct band to you because not enough people know about them, it’s the cruelly under-appreciated The Beauty Shop from Illinois – I am starting a campaign to get them to release something new with this sentence, which people in the US are much better placed than me to make happen, as they don't return my emails.

Rob: I have been a bit hopeless at keeping up with new bands.  I like the new Jetstream Pony single, and I like the Jeanines.  Oh yeah, and I liked the last Rosehip Teahouse single as well.  Actually, that’s not so bad is it? 

Amy: I like Red Red Eyes and Penelope Isles.  As The Catenary Wires we played two shows with the former, and would love to play shows with the latter.

Steve: Discerning readers might be able to piece together what European Sun sound like from a composite of all the above tastes, and some creative imagination. Or better still, buy the beautiful vinyl itself...

Will there be more recording in the (near) future? 

Steve: Rob and Amy never stop recording – you can listen to The Drift or Swansea Sound if you want evidence! I am less prolific; I am currently writing the next European Sun album, however, buoyed by the success of this one and the wonderful partnership with Rob, Amy and Ian. It took me seven years to write the debut album but I’m confident I can produce the follow up in at least half that!

Rob:  I am sure there will be more recording.   We have got pretty good at doing it all at home, though we do rely on our friend Ian Button for drumming (he is able to do this remotely) and mastering.   We are actually about to start a new label.  It’s called Skep Wax.  We will use it to distribute a lot of what we are currently doing, and may start to release other people’s music (if we haven’t made a complete mess of releasing our own).

www.wiaiwya.bandcamp.com 

 Still in the woods.