#Timbre Concerts

[thepermanentrainpress]

Gallery: G FLIP @ Hollywood Theatre - Vancouver, BC Date: October 22, 2023 Photographed by: Bailey Morgan

#Georgia Claire Flipo #G Flip #Vancouver #Music #live music #yvr #Bailey #Bailey Morgan #Hollywood Theatre #Timbre Concerts #The G Flip Tour #Future Classic #Georgia Flipo #Drummer #About Us #Killing My Time #Gay 4 Me #Drink Too Much #About You #I Am Not Afraid #Be Your Man #concert #concert photography #concert photos #gig #PRmusic #PRphoto

[ladykailitha]

The Eddie Munson Guide to Dating an Oblivious Jock Part 6

The last part. Thank you everyone for all the love and support this little story has gotten. It’s been such a wild ride.

I have started writing the next part of “Can Anybody See Me?” but I really want to write Steve taking a recovering Eddie to the Ozzy Osborne/Metalica concert in Indy. So we’ll see what happens there.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5

*

Appendix: Sleeping Together

“Wait, wait,” Max said. “I thought we weren’t going to be talking about sex in this?”

“This isn’t about sex,” Eddie said with a grin. “I promise. Besides the last thing I want to discuss with you is my sex life.”

“Thank god for that,” she sighed. “Then what are we talking about?”

Depending on the person you may get a chance to fall asleep with them before you are together. This is how you navigate that with your feelings being what they are.

“Oh.”

Eddie smile was strained. “Yeah. Oh.”

“I didn’t think about that,” Max admitted. “It’s something Lucas and I used to do all the time.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “It’s why I brought it up. In case it’s something that happens naturally while you’re wooing your jock.”

“Is that what happened with you and Steve?” she asked. “You just fell into it naturally.”

Eddie bit his lip. “You cannot tell the others about this. Steve doesn’t want anyone to know.”

Max straightened up. “I promise.”

Through the fog of sleep, Eddie could distantly hear the sound of a phone ringing. He looked over at his alarm clock bleary eyed. It was after three in the morning.

Distantly he could hear the ringing stop as Wayne answered the phone, the deep timbre of his uncle’s voice as he groggily spoke into the phone. He heard the sound of the phone being put down. He knew it wasn’t an emergency. Whoever it was would have used the walkie-talkie if it was.

Wayne knocked on the door to his bedroom. “Eddie, you awake?”

Eddie sighed. “Yeah, I’m up.” He got to his feet and answered the door. “What’s up?”

“It’s your boy, Steve,” Wayne said gruffly. “It sounds pretty bad.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” And as he passed his uncle he murmured, “He’s not my boy.”

Wayne chuckled. “Not yet, but I know how you get when you go a courtin’. You’ve been chasing that boy for months.”

Eddie blushed. “Some things are worth the wait.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

Eddie hurried to the phone and picked it up. “Hey, Stevie.”

“I’m sorry to call so late,” Steve whispered into the phone. “I had a nightmare that you bled out in my arms and needed to hear your voice.”

Shit.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he murmured his assurances. “Do you want me to come to your place and keep you company awhile?”

There was silence on the line for a moment or two before the tentative, “Yes,” came from the other end.

“I’m on my way, beautiful,” Eddie said. “Do you think you can unlock the door for me?”

There was a whine on the other end that Eddie took as a distinct NO.

“Is your window open?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathed.

“‘Kay, darlin’,” Eddie replied. “You keep it open for me and I’ll be there as quick as I can.”

“Holy shit,” Max said.

“Do you know you say that a lot?” Eddie asked.

“Oh fuck off,” she spat. “I didn’t realize he got nightmares like that.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “He doesn’t want you guys to know because if he breaks down then glue keeping the party from a full on meltdown is gone and he can’t–”

“He doesn’t want to be responsible for the implosion that would happen as a result,” she said softly.

“So don’t let the others know, okay?”

“You have my word on Billy’s grave,” she said solemnly.

Eddie nodded.

When Eddie got to Steve’s house he stood in front of it with his hands on his hips looking up at Steve’s window.

Shit.

There were some bushes and things in front the house but nothing that he use to climb up. He wander around to the back. He stood on one of the loungers and bounced, testing if it would take his weight.

Once he was satisfied that it would, he dragged it over to the side of the house and made his way to the up to the lower part of the roof. He scrambled over the tile on all fours trying not to slip and fall. He finally made it through Steve’s window to see the man pressed against his bedroom door, clutching his nail bat, eyes squeezed shut.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie cooed. “It’s just me.”

Steve opened his eyes and sighed. He dropped the bat and lunged at Eddie, throwing his arms around his waist as he sobbed.

“Oh, hey there,” he murmured once he was sure they weren’t going to be tumbling through window and to their deaths. “I’m here, sweetheart. I’m here.”

Steve let out a little sigh. It was more like a hiccup but it wasn’t a sob and Eddie was going to fucking take that as a win.

Eddie bullied Steve over to the bed and immediately spotted a problem. There was barely enough room for Steve on the damn thing. He sighed. There was nothing for it. He laid down first and held out his arms for Steve to lay on top of him.

Steve went willing and curled his arms around Eddie’s waist.

“I can hear your heartbeat,” he mumbled by way explanation.

“Ah.” That made sense. “You want to tell me what happened?”

Steve nuzzled his chest a moment. “Me, Nance, and Robin were fighting Vecna and suddenly I could hear Dustin’s screams. Just full on screaming. But I could tell he wasn’t...he hadn’t–”

“You knew he wasn’t the one hurt?” Eddie asked.

Steve nodded. “We destroyed Vecna and I came running. But by the time I got there it was too late. You were cracking jokes trying to make Dustin feel better, and then you were gone.”

“That’s not what happened though,” Eddie reminded him gently. “I’m here all thanks to you.”

Steve sighed. “I know that. Objectively, I know that. But...”

“But there is nothing the mind loves more than the worst possible ‘what if...’,” he said gently.

Steve lifted his head to look Eddie in the eye. “Do you...? I mean, have you had those thoughts?”

Eddie kissed his forehead. “Sure do, sweetheart. What if Jason and his friends caught me on Lover’s Lake? What if Jason had hurt Lucas and Max? What if Vecna won and everyone but me died?”

“Those are some pretty terrible what ifs,” Steve muttered, settling back down on Eddie’s chest.

“So let’s make a deal,” Eddie said. “When I have those dreams I call you and vice versa?”

Eddie could feel Steve’s smile against the plain of his chest. “I just have one condition.”

“What’s that, Stevie?”

“That you don’t tell people about me having nightmares,” he murmured.

“Why not?”

Eddie could feel the hot tears soak his shirt as Steve gripped it tight. “They expect me to the strong one. The one all this washes over, what do you think will happen if I break down?”

“They’ll see you’re human and cheer?” Eddie said.

Steve let out a bitter laugh. “If only.”

Eddie wrapped his arms tightly around Steve and fought back tears of his own. Yeah. If only. But they both knew that wasn’t the case. The party would fucking riot. It would be beyond chaos, it would be outright pandemonium.

“So let me take care you,” he whispered. “Let me be the one to some of the burden of taking care of everyone else, by taking care of you.”

Steve lifted his head again. “Yeah, okay.”

Eddie gently pushed Steve’s head back on his chest and sighed. It was going to be a long night. For both of them.

Max smiled. “Thank you. On behalf of all of us. Even though they can never know. Thank you. Since the two of you started this, he’s been happier. He has more fun. And that’s all thanks to you.”

Eddie ducked his head. “I think it helps that I have been through all of what the rest of you have. Yes, my time in the Upside Down was traumatic but it’s still a drop in the bucket of what Steve has gone through.”

“Yeah.”

“So I guess navigating your emotions for sleeping in the same bed,” Max concluded, “is about putting their needs above yours?”

“Right in one, Red,” Eddie said. “It’s not easy. Not even close. But you’re there for them.”

She nodded.

Afterword:

They were all together again for another movie night when Lucas cornered Steve in the kitchen.

“Hey, Steve,” Lucas asked shifting from one foot to the other.

Steve looked up from the fridge where he was pulling out the sodas. “Hey, man. What’s up?”

“I was wondering if I could ask you for some advice. Like romantic advice.”

Steve set the soda on the counter. “If you’re wanting to know how I bagged Eddie, the answer is I don’t know. I still can’t figure it out.”

Eddie walked in just as Steve said the line and started laughing. “Some day I’ll explain it to you, sweetheart.”

Lucas looked dejected, but Steve patted him on the back. “You’ll get there, too.”

Eddie followed Lucas out to the front room and winked at Max. She smiled back and walked up to Lucas, taking some of the sodas from him to help.

“Hey,” she said brightly. “I was going to the skate park on Sunday to work on a new trick. You want to come watch?”

Lucas’s eyes lit up. “Yeah? Anyone else gonna be there?”

She shook her head. “Not anyone we know anyway, there might be some other kids out there though.”

Lucas smiled. “I’d like that.”

“Great!” she said. “We can go together. You can bike and I’ll skate.”

Steve came up behind Eddie and wrapped his arms around his waist and put his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. “You think there is hope for those two?”

“If she follows my guide to dating an oblivious jock,” Eddie teased, “I’m sure she’ll do fine.”

“Your what?!”

Eddie cackled and tried to escape but Steve held him tight. “You are an absolute menace, Eddie Munson.”

Eddie turned just enough to peck Steve on the lips. “Yes, but I’m your menace, Steve Harrington.”

Steve cocked his head to the side and then spun Eddie around so that they were facing each other. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Eddie threw his arms around Steve’s shoulders and kissed him hard on the lips. “By the way, getting your jock alone is step three or four depending on your jock.”

“Oh, yeah?” Steve murmured. “What are steps one and two?”

Eddie gave him a quick peck on the lips. “Like I said in the kitchen, Stevie, I’ll tell you all about it later. I promise.”

“Oi!” Dustin called from the center of the floor. “Can you two stop being so disgusting for two minutes so we can start the movie?”

“I’ll hold you to that, sunshine,” Steve said and then let Eddie go.

Eddie grabbed Steve’s hand and led him to the sofa where Robin was already waiting for them.

As the movie started, Eddie kissed the top of Steve’s head and looked over at Max and Lucas who were chatting excitedly about the new move Max was learning.

Yeah, they were going to be just fine.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @this-is-mycrisis @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @artiststarme @steddie-there @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @thebrazilianatheist @rozzieroos @whalesharksart @mightbeasleep @theotalksalot @avacrebs @sassysleeplord @exhibit-no-restraint @sjullay @thesuninyaface @everywherenothere @nerdsconquerall @persephone13 @wrenisflying @lillemilly @cr0w-culture @edgelordesworld @manda-panda-monium

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #lumax #1000 followers #ladykailtiha writes

[south-of-heaven]

Poly! Judgement Day with a singer/piano player! reader?

Concert || The Judgement Day x Reader

Summary: You're a very good singer and piano player. Sometimes your partners beg you for a little home concert.

As the evening sun begins to dip below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow through the windows, you find yourself seated at the piano in your cozy living room. The gentle hum of anticipation fills the air, and your partners – Finn, Damian, Rhea, and Dominik – are gathered around, their eyes fixed on you with eager smiles.

"Come on, love, give us a little concert," Finn urges playfully, his voice laced with excitement.

You grin at their enthusiasm, fingers poised over the keys. With a soft nod, you begin to play a simple melody, the notes cascading like a gentle stream. The room is soon filled with the soothing sounds of the piano, and you can't help but feel a sense of serenity wash over you.

As the music flows from your fingertips, your partners are completely captivated. Damian leans against the piano, his eyes fixed on your hands as they dance across the keys. Rhea rests her head against Dominik's shoulder, her gaze soft as she listens intently.

The melody transitions into a heartfelt ballad, and your voice joins in, filling the room with its rich timbre. Your partners exchange glances, clearly enchanted by the performance. The song's lyrics resonate deeply, and as your voice soars, you can feel the emotions pouring into each note.

Finn's eyes glisten as he watches you, his expression one of genuine adoration. He reaches out, his fingers brushing against yours, a silent connection formed through the music. Damian's smile is tender, his appreciation evident in the way he gazes at you. Rhea's hand finds Dominik's, and they share a knowing look that speaks volumes about the beauty of this moment.

The last note lingers in the air, gradually fading away. The room is filled with a reverent silence before applause erupts from your partners. Their smiles are bright, their faces lit up by the magic of your music.

"That was incredible," Rhea says, her voice soft yet filled with admiration.

"Truly," Damian adds, his eyes still fixed on you.

"You never cease to amaze us," Dominik chimes in, a fond smile on his lips.

Finn's applause is accompanied by a whistle, his enthusiasm infectious. "You've got such an amazing gift, love."

Blushing slightly at their praise, you take a moment to soak in their appreciation. The connection you share with them is deep and profound, and moments like these only strengthen it. With a grateful smile, you rise from the piano bench and join them, finding yourself surrounded by their warm embrace.

"Thank you," you murmur, your heart full.

Finn presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his arms wrapping around you. "Anytime you want to serenade us, just say the word."

Rhea chuckles, her fingers lacing with yours. "Definitely. We'll be your biggest fans."

Damian's gaze is unwavering as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips. "Your music fills our lives with beauty."

Dominik completes the circle of love, his arms encircling all of you. "You're the melody to our harmony."

In this moment, surrounded by the ones you hold most dear, you realize how truly lucky you are. With their love and support, your music resonates even more deeply, creating a melody that binds you all together in a symphony of affection and devotion.

#wwe fanfiction #wwe x reader #pro wrestling #wrestling #wwe #damian priest #damian priest x reader #damian x reader #rhea ripley x reader #rhea x reader #rhea ripley #finn balor x reader #finn balor #dominik mysterio x reader #dirty dom #dominik mysterio #the judgement day wwe #the judgement day x reader #the judgment day

[zishiyao]

Let Game Avallac'h and Book Avallac'h play a concert. Their flutes have different timbre. Time has swiftly passed, and I have been acquainted with the sage for nearly a year.

#witcher fanart #the witcher #avallac'h #the witcher 3 #aen elle #artists on tumblr #my art #the witcher books #illustration

[writerpey]

Hi! I was wondering if I could request caregiver!Joel x reader headcanons from the last of us? Please ignore if your requests are closed and I didn't see it. Anyways have a great day💜💜💜

of course! I’m assuming u mean the show but feel free to think of video game joel as well! he was literally my first fictional father figure so I hope I do him justice 💜

Caregiver!Joel Miller Headcanons

It may be obvious, but Joel is an extremely protective caregiver. Be ready for a lot of warnings and “be careful’s!” from anything about how fast you’re running down the sidewalk to how hot your food is when he sets it in front of you.

There was one time where you tripped and scraped your knee, dissolving into tears on the sidewalk. It was of to no surprise to Joel, but he would never let out nor even think of saying “I told you so” when you were distraught. Instead, he was quick to scoop you up into his arms, low voice rumbling in his chest as he soothed your scrape with gentle words. “I got you, sweetheart. You’re okay.”

Naturally a loving father figure, he’s amazing at making sure that you’re cared for not only physically, but also emotionally. Little you mentioned how much you love boxed max n cheese? He’s keeping every single box he lays his eyes on and making it for you when you’re having a difficult day or are feeling especially small.

Or if you’re too little to do the buttons on your shirt up yourself he’ll be more than happy to help you, tapping you under on the chin when he gets to the top button just to see your smile and hear you giggle.

He loves to take you to do outdoorsy things, even if it’s not your most favourite thing to do in the world. But he finds a way to make it fun for both you and him! If he wants to go fishing, he’s putting a bucket hat on your head and lathering your face in sunscreen before handing you a little basket that you can go collect rocks in!

Queue you tugging on his flannel shirt to show him the prettiest rock you found and Joel reeling in his fishing rod just to straighten your hat and admire your collection.

Joel also loves to have movie nights with you when you’re regressed. He lets you pick the movie and snacks of course, because let’s be honest, he’s a little bit of a pushover. Disney? Pixar? Anything opposite or in between? Joel will manage to find it for you and let you curl up in his lap and lay your head on his chest with a big bowl of popcorn.

He’ll also softly sing along to his favourite songs if you’re watching a musical of any sorts.

This also leads to special lullabies from Joel that no one knows about aside from you. He’ll tuck you in bed with your blankets under your chin, and will sit on the edge of your bed to strum away at his guitar. Some nights just a gentle tune on his guitar will put you to sleep, where other nights it’s the low timbre of his singing voice that soothes you.

When you’re little you even beg him to put on concerts for you and your stuffed animals. “But Daddy- y-you said y’wanted to be a singer!” He groans but always ends up giving in to your pleading. You’re his baby, after all.

Overall, Joel is a spectacular caregiver who always tends to your needs and sees you as his precious little one. <3

#tlou hbo #tlou hbo fic #tlou fic #tlou agere #joel miller fic #joel miller #cg joel miller #sfw agere #sfw agere fic

[satoruhour]

went to a classical concert last night and i saw this guy who’s the section leader for the cellos. he had his hair up in a bun and i was like “geto playing the cello fits so well actually” or rather the features of the cello fits him so perfectly and it does !!!! the lower timbre of the cello is such a testament to his raspy and calm voice, but when triggered by external forces (elgar cello concerto im looking @ u — the piece makes such a beautiful use of the instrument), the outburst is so intense and hard-hitting, something i’d expect from a collected man like geto who, when he gets angry and furious, really burns everything in his way with his spite lol.

the lower register of the cello is often a grounding instrument for the piece when it’s not played in a concerto, sort of like a bass guitar in songs, and i think at geto’s core that’s what he was for gojo — someone not as strong as gojo in terms of a flawless technique but always being the voice of reason, that laidback, chill friend who sometimes surprises you with an insane idea that usually differs from the voice of reason (when the cello is put on centre stage for a concerto, that is).

and also the fact that in ep 23’s juju sanpo there’s the (joking) implication of gojo being a violin teacher despite it all being a ploy for megumi’s supposed situation of getting hit on, it also DOES fit gojo so much because the violin in general is a really attention-seeking instrument (don’t kill me!! i play violin and i mean... i sorta agree). there’s not one but two sections of the violins in the orchestra and it’s shrill, high-pitched, a little bit of the buzz in the ear when played not so well, but when manipulated well i think it’s truly one of the most beautiful instruments constructed. and that exactly feels like what gojo is — not to reduce his character to an instrument, but rather just pointing out similar features of the violin’s sound to parts of gojo’s character — a little insufferable and annoying at first but he has a lot of depth with every year that he ages, maybe not at first when he was younger but there is that fact that older violins harmonise and sound better from the constant use and practice of the player.

the gojo now is like an aged violin like an old stradivarius or guarneri, technique honed perfectly from years and years of practice after the whole debacle of riko. the luthier process is also important — the act of satoru’s parents essentially making love and producing gojo who shifted the trajectory of the jujutsu world — where it shows that luthiers who construct the instrument from scratch will not know if their instrument will sound well years later, but it differs in his case. it just so happens that his parents were lucky luthiers who already knew the value of their instrument from the beginning.

#wow i totally went off the rails for gojo’s #sorry guys just geeking out #imagine if i could write like this for my assignment which is not getting done. wow! #OKAY ILL SHUT UP NOW #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen geto #gojo satoru #geto suguru #jjk #satoruhour's rambles

[ourshadowstallerthanoursoul]

Stupendously pyrotechnical

"It was Jimmy Page's stupendously pyrotechnical guitar that got the Zeppelin off the ground. And from his eerie plagal cadence [...] to his blinding flashes of free improvisation, Page seemed to have been listening to tapes of '40s-vintage radio shows. [...] Page launched a five-minute exploration of his near-lethal instrument as perilous and wondrous as any venture into space. Alternately bowing, slapping and picking his amplified strings with both hands, producing staggered combinations of overtone clusters, esoteric sound effects; beating the strings and fretting glissando melodies over his own percussive blasts, fretting high on the neck in widely fluctuating cycles of fifths, sevenths and modal licks and meticulously controlled five-string arpeggios - even at stages echoing the timbre of a human voice - Page literally created a short symphony for amplified strings and performed the entire work alone."

- From the Aug. 26, 1971 Houston concert review by J. Scarborough (Chronicle)

#jimmy page #pagey #led zeppelin #john bonham #bonzo #john paul jones #jonesy #robert plant #planty #60s #70s #70s rock #70s music #rock music #ourshadowstallerthanoursoul

[bizarrebazaar13]

Aboard the Delight (with mask)

Light gleams on the ship’s glossy planks, catching whorls in the wood. Everything here fits exactly where it’s meant to fit. Interlocked. Meticulous. Shipshape, in the zailor’s parlance. Ropes lashed neatly. Sails trimmed. Masked zailors, much like yourself, moving in concert to serve the Prester’s Hand. You click into place, one more cog in the well-oiled crew. You’re exactly where you should be, too.

Aboard the Delight (no mask)

Something like sap oozes from the vessel’s wooden planks. Sticky, wet, dripping from each timbre and beam, puddling on decks, leaking into the surrounding zee. Hewn from the Bleeding Forest, the lumber still bleeds. Masked zailors leave footprints in the muck. It clings to their boots, stretching and syrupy. You cannot touch the rails, the cabin walls, even the ropes, without staining your hands crimson.

#oughhh #the subtle “something is not right here” of the first one is so so good and the ship actively bleeding in the second one…. aaaaaa i love it #aelan speaks #fallen london #blood mention #body horror #evolution posting

[leothil]

fuck it friday

I've been tagged in multiple fif:s over the past few weeks by @rewritetheending @clusterbuck @onward--upward @like-the-rest-of-la and @mellaithwen thank you so much! <33

To nobody's surprise I'm back on my choir bullshit. We had our fall concert yesterday and felt really good about it afterwards, and today it's been very gratifying to see that both the biggest Finnish newspaper and the biggest Swedish newspaper in the country gave us a good review!

Voi olla, että tekemisessä on nyt keskitytty ensisijaisesti puhtauteen, yhtenäiseen äänenväriin ja tarkkuuteen. Nämä kaikki ovatkin erinomaisessa kunnossa. - Annamari Salmela/HS It's possible that [the choir] has focused primarily on purity, a unified timbre, and precision. These are all, in fact, in excellent condition.

Den välsjungande och alltid välklingande kören... - Wilhelm Kvist/HBL The well-singing and always good-sounding choir...

We did record the concert, but I don't have access to those files yet, so instead I'll attach a clip I recorded during one of our practises. It's about half of movement seven, forbidden subjects, of David Lang's composition love fail. The soloist is me. :) As I said it's recorded during a practise so excuse my voice breaking and gliding a bit I wasn't in my best form

If you want to listen to the other movements, Lorelei Ensemble has a recording of the full composition on Spotify (with some subtle differences from the version we performed, but most of it is the same).

Tagsssssss - without checking who's posted already (sorry) - for @shitouttabuck @nunc-spes-spei @hattalove @try-set-me-on-fire @capseycartwright @buckactuallys @thatbuddie @oatflatwhite @messyhairdiaz

#fuck it friday #lyran

[thepermanentrainpress]

Gallery: Viagra Boys @ Commodore Ballroom - Vancouver, BC Date: March 2, 2023 Photographed by: Ray Maichin

#PRphoto #Music #live music #Ray #Ray Maichin #Viagra Boys #Timbre Concerts #Commodore Ballroom #Vancouver #yvr #Sebastian Murphy #Henrik Höckert #Elias Jungqvist #Linus Hillborg #Commodore #Cave World #Welfare Jazz #Street Worms #Call of the Wild #Consistency of Energy #Punk Rock Loser #Ain't Nice #Ain't No Thief #Troglodyte #Baby Criminal #concert #concert photography #concert photos #gig #YEAR0001

[septembersghost]

If this is a weird comment you don't have to post it, but listening to E a lot I notice there are a bunch of idk? sounds in his songs that I guess they'd edit out now. you mentioned him laugh in Power of My Love and I hear it EVERY time now, but there's a lot of other stuff too that makes the recordings sound so real.

not a weird comment, i love this actually, and it's true.

i think it's a combination of factors. obviously, no digital editing (and no auto-tuning, which is why his studio vocals and his live vocals are as close to identical as they are. studio recordings are cleaner due to the setting and equipment, but the timbre and tone, the color, the melodic quality, that was truly the man's voice), although engineers could still clean things up in places, and lay in background vocals and further instrumentation etc, it was a bit more involved/arduous as a process and the central recording probably didn't get fiddled with as much. i'm not going to say i'm super well-versed on production of the time, but of course computers and digital mixing, snipping together various takes, etc, today can alter a LOT of what's captured to make it more "flawless." if you listen to any of his rough studio cuts/outtakes, you'll hear him rehearsing, changing up tempos, deciding on different arrangements or following instruction, (messing up lyrics and laughing and being a weirdo lmao i love him), clicking into how to get a song to work.

i also think it has something to do with E's particular technique and delivery, where he breathes is often very deliberate (try singing along and you'll notice how measured and controlled he was at this and the way it emotionally affects his delivery). i mean, as an example that isn't the power of my love laugh™, you can hear him gulp slightly at the beginning of in the ghetto (in the rest after "as the snow flies"), whether that's direct emotion or nerves or just how he was getting the song out. there's a moment in another song where you can hear what i think is the clink of his rings against the microphone. the memphis sessions have a LOT of the raw studio sounds left in. some of this is also that he...did not sit still (affectionate), so some of that fidgeting and rustling and personality is all captured in the recordings. listen to true love travels on a gravel road (my beloved), and there are a bunch of the organic moments right there. especially between the first chorus and the second verse - between "ohhh, true love travels on a gravel road" and "down through the years..." like four different things audibly happen. you can tell when he's playing around and exaggerating some of his vocalizations and quirks and trademarks, leaning into it - which he did in places in the comeback special too, because he knew exactly how to utilize/distill that, and the way it would transfix the audience, he just had command of that to unleash however he chose. (or whatever. he decided. to do. at the end of such a night). it's also why it's really apparent in a song when he smiles, which is one of my favorite things in the world, when you can HEAR a smile in a song. not every artist is easy to detect this with, but he is, and it's so warm.

what i really really love about this with him is it makes the songs so present and lived in and felt, all these unfiltered and natural details still exist in the tracks and so does his personality. then when you listen to the concert recordings, the only significant difference is stuff like banter with the audience or switching up bits of arrangement for the show, but the emotion and the amount of himself he put into everything is as real/accessible/clear in the studio as it is on the stage of the international or anywhere else. it's such a vibrantly alive aspect of his work that i believe it's part of why it's endured the way it has tbh - it still feels like he's right there about to pull that gold curtain back again.

#anonymous #letterbox #the thing is if you send me an ask about this i will write an essay #elvis presley #i was a dreamer #music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent #*

[dustedmagazine]

Morton Feldman — Violin and String Quartet (Another Timbre)

Composed in 1985, just two years before he died of cancer in 1987, Morton Feldman’s Violin and String Quartet embodies his interests in patterns, such as the intricate, slightly asymmetrical threading of Asian rugs. Similarly, Violin and String Quartet contains off-kilter, slowly evolving harmonies, post-tonal in terms of trajectory; they are  self-contained entities that inhabit a place in which instability and repetition conjoin.

Quintets with violins are somewhat unusual. In a standard classical piece by Mozart or Schubert, one is more likely to find two violas or cellos. The group of players here — Mira Benjamin, Chihiro Ono, and Amalia Young, violins, Bridget Carey, viola, and Anton Lukoszevieze, cello — play together as if this is the most ubiquitous of instrumentations. Their level of attention to tiny details in the score, as well as their unflagging energy, make this an important document of Feldman’s late music.

The designation of one of the violins separately is significant. Sometimes the first violin will be required to play a solo role, tearing off from tutti ostinato passages to play altissimo high notes and polyrhythms —often five against four — that delineate it from the rest of the group. At others, its upper register sustained notes meld with the string quartet.

Like most of Feldman’s late music, Violin and String Quartet is quite long, well over two hours, and prevailingly slow and soft. The piece begins with verticals that are morphed by small glissandos into rubbery totems. These are contrasted by moments of glassine verticals, played with straight tone. For a stretch two-thirds of the way in, the first violin’s harmonics are set against blocks of enigmatic chords.

Without a linear narrative or break in the action, a piece of such long duration is difficult to summarize. Perhaps that is part of the point. Attention to small details and their variations is rewarded, just as a meditative stance can be a way to contemplate Feldman’s music. In a pre-concert talk about a different piece, Feldman was quoted as saying,”It’s a short three hours!” Approached with an open mind and ears, Violin and String Quartet can feel the same way.

Christian Carey

#morton feldman #violin and string quartet #another timbre #christian carey #albumreview #dusted magazine #contemporary classical #chamber music #Youtube

[theold-ultraviolence]

Fear of the Dark (2/7)

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: A year after Hawkin’s great ‘earthquake’ Eddie drives to the other side of the country in the hopes of dealing with his trauma in sunny California, where he finds himself infatuated with the lead singer of HEX. Upon getting to know her, he soon realizes that not all monsters live in an upside-down dimension, but not all of them are out to get him… inspired by The Lost Boys!//CW: female!reader / vampire!reader, eventual smut, slow-ish burn, angst with a happy ending. ST4 Spoilers - takes place a year after Vol 2 (no major character death).

Chapter warning: descriptions of Eddie experiencing a panic attack, dealing with trauma. Lots of hurt and comfort in this one.

Masterlist / chapter 3

CHAPTER 2. By The Light of the Moon

The White Rabbit appears like a small, unassuming club, but it expands once you get inside the venue, as if it were honoring the tale its name is based on. The lobby and bar area is lined with blood-red walls and lit up with vintage chandeliers. A passage just beside the merch booths leads to the concert floor which holds up a bigger crowd than the one at the pier. This is where Eddie has been spending most of his evenings. 

August was just at its tail end, and Eddie had gone to every one of HEX’s scheduled gigs at The White Rabbit for that month, along with the odd times that they played somewhere else, like the pier or downtown. After every show he made sure he got the girl’s consent to hang out with them backstage or over at the merch booth out in the lobby. 

By now he had won their hearts by being their most excitable fan, buying their merch, like a couple of t-shirts and a copy of their demo – which Eddie played constantly as he spent his days wasting his summer by solely devoting his gaze to the ocean, within the safe, albeit scorching haven of his van, tanning his feet and legs where they sprawled on the dashboard. 

When the girls asked what his favorite song of theirs was, he didn’t have to think twice, before replying that it was Kiss of Death with his face all luminous, explaining in detail everything he liked about the arrangements and the lyrics. 

The girls were enamored by Eddie’s genuine interest in their music, as he constantly asked them about their writing process, their origins, if they’d ever toured outside of their hometown and if they had any crazy fan encounters, although he didn’t have to be told about the latter. He’d witnessed firsthand the kind of leers and lewd remarks that some men would direct at them at shows, so Eddie was more than glad to step in and shoo them away. Not that HEX needed the help, though some guys just didn’t back away unless another man was present and the girls were infinitely grateful to have made an unexpected friend out of him that could protect them in those situations. 

Still, despite the closeness that had bloomed with HEX, he still hadn’t gotten through you. 

You’d always hang back, make yourself scarce as soon as you saw him walking up to you backstage. 

You do watch him though, from your spot on the stage, from a nook around the venue, out of the corner of your eye when he’s talking to your bandmates. You listen intently to everything he says, memorize the deep timbre of his voice, how he snorts when he laughs or the change in pitch when he intones something to make the girls laugh. 

You see how his soulful brown eyes linger on your form, hopeful and yearning. And while he intrigued you immensely and you secretly longed to bask in his undivided attention without restraint, you couldn’t let him in.  

“Come on, give the guy a break!” Lara had whined while shaking your shoulders playfully. 

“Yeah! He's actually a really nice man, you should hear him play! He put me to shame with my OWN guitar, can you believe it?” Tawny had fawned. “If you don’t snatch him up, I will.” 

“No way Tawny, Eddie only has eyes for you know who. Seriously though, If you’d only see the way he looks at you.” Daphne intervened. 

You’ve heard it all from your bandmates a thousand times and while they meant well, you’d promise yourself you wouldn’t let anyone in after last year’s incident. 

Life had changed forever as you’d known it. It’d been ripped from you. 

So you bowed to make a stone pillar out of your heart; an unbreakable fort so you’d never have to put your trust in no man ever again and get hurt in the process. 

– 

Saturday finds him riding the waves of the familiar crowd that comes to watch HEX. He’s drenched inside his denim jacket, jumping amongst the people so vigorously that he had to wrap his bandana around his hair so that those all around him wouldn’t pull at the strands and leave him bald. 

These are the times when he feels alive – it’s the definite highlight of the time he’s spent in Santa Monica so far. 

After the encore, you’ve come back on stage with a Black Sabbath medley that has the masses in a total uproar; you’d started off with the upbeat tempo of Paranoid, with white lights flashing to the rhythm of the chords and you howling out the main chorus so sweetly – ‘can you help me occupy my brain!?’  

Then darkness bathes the venue and a single beam of crimson light shines on you as you play the first note of the Iron Man riff. 

That distorted E string suddenly makes him freeze as it echoes along the vast space, as if that note carries with it a bucket of ice cold water thrown right at him. 

The ominous sound rings again and he feels spider legs crawling all over the nape of his neck, urging him to turn around; it sounds just like how Max had described the chimes of the grandfather clock that was a harbinger for Vecna’s approach. 

…Has he lost his mind?

Can he see or is he blind?

Can he walk at all?

Or if he moves, will he fall?... 

His eyes desperately look all over the room for a sign of danger, but nothing is there. 

He’s not in Hawkins anymore, he’d been saved, it’s been a year, there’s no way that this thing followed him out here – is the mantra that repeats in his head but it’s no use as he starts heaving, feeling like the walls are closing in on him, like your voice has turned into a loathsome croak as you sing, like the density of the room is too much to bear and he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe. 

…Is he alive or dead?

Has he thoughts within his head?

We'll just pass him there

Why should we even care?... 

As he lighting choice for this song is all scarlet shades it feels as if he’s been thrown back to the Upside-Down, and he doesn’t know if the fluorescent red eyes he sees hidden among the multitude are real or a mere figment of his paranoid brain – so he shuts his eyes, madly rubs at his temples and hurries out of the pit in that instant.  

Despite the darkness you see it all from the stage – your enhanced vision enables you to zoom in on him desperately struggling to get out of the room and failing, making you miss the rest of the chords of the riff before you stop altogether. 

“Wait a second, hold up!” You direct through your microphone, “Hold up! Stop the music, turn on the lights, please!” 

As soon as the light comes back to the room you shoot Tawny a pleading look before leaving your guitar on the ground and running down to the floor on impulse, pushing your way through the indignant crowd to reach Eddie. 

“Hey,” you murmur, tentatively putting a hand around his shoulder, “It’s me, it’s me…” 

He visibly relaxes his shoulders at the sound of your voice, but just slightly.  

“Are you alright?” 

When he shakes his head no, you don’t think twice about the complaints that the people are shouting, you’ve only one goal in mind and that was to pull Eddie out of the venue and into a safe spot, with your arms secured around his back, whispering sweet nothings until you’re both out of the tumult and in the fresh open air outside of the club. 

Eddie’s choking up on his own breath until you soothe your arm across his back, rub the sweaty dip between his shoulder blades from under his jacket and over his t-shirt. 

“You’re alright, Eddie, you’re safe,” you repeat over and over in hushed tones right on his ear. 

With one intake of breath the tension visibly leaves him in sync with a slow exhale, prompting you to grab his hand in yours to help ground him, lest his mind fly away along the coastline. 

When Eddie gives your hand a gentle squeeze, you pull back to look at him – struck by lightning by those big, baby cow eyes of his that held the universe within. He had this grandeur about him, an air that made him seem larger than life, but right now, underneath the moonlight and within kissing distance, he looks like a lost boy. 

He breaks his gaze, shaking his head self-deprecatingly, huffing, “I’m sorry, this doesn’t happen very often.” 

“Nonsense,” you wrap both of your hands around his, “you don’t have anything to be sorry for.” 

“Wait, the gig! Did you finish the set? What are you doing here, go back out there!” 

“Don’t worry about that, Eddie.” More tension dissipates from his shoulders at the sensation of you soothing circles on his thumbs and wrist, though his heart still feels like it’s racing when you’re looking at him with utmost tenderness, like he’s never seen directed at him before. 

Before the silence could go a minute longer, you pose, “Hey, how about that lunch?” 

“At midnight?” He looks up at the moon as if making sure that the old lady was in place, annoyed that it meant it was too late in the night for the kind of date he’d been wishing to have with you. 

“Okay then, dinner it is,” you chuckle, “I know a place that’s open 24/7.” 

He just stares at you for a moment, a timid smirk slowly tugging at the corner of his lips, with two hidden dimples you hadn’t noticed before making their entrance high up near the apples of his cheeks. 

“What?” you giggle, feeling all flushed. There’s just some kind of magical way about how Eddie holds your gaze. 

“This is the most we’ve talked in almost a month.” He scrunches his nose playfully. 

“Well…about time we catch up, huh?”   

“Lead the way.” 

He offers his arm to you so that you could walk in a linked embrace all the way along the darkened streets, with your path only being made visible by the buttery streetlights and the moon high above the sky. The way to the diner was a mere few blocks away from The White Rabbit, right at the bottom of the concrete hill that overlooked the ocean.  

“You okay?” Eddie asks as you hesitate in front of the door, to which you nervously reply, “Yeah! Just – uhh, wait until the waitress lets us in.” 

He purses his lips confused, but you’re grateful he doesn’t press for an explanation. 

How could you even begin to explain that this affliction of yours forbids you from entering any place uninvited… 

Soon enough, a tired looking waitress opens up the door and lets you two into the lonely diner, where you settle on a cozy booth with worn leather seats. 

The more you’re around him, the more his boyish nature comes to the surface. Your heart feels all mushy with how content he looks, with his tongue poking out from his smiling lips and rosy cheeks as he eyes the menu and tells the waitress he would like “the burger special with extra fries and an ice-cold coke, please.”    

“And for you?” the waitress turns to you. 

“Ohh I’m okay! I’m not hungry.” 

Eddie’s eyeballs nearly pop out of his skull in surprise. “What!? Please, order something! Don’t worry about it, it’s on me – as a way of thanks. Besides I’d already asked if you wanted lunch with me, so. It’ll be my treat.” 

“Alright, then,” you sigh. “I’ll have the uh –” How do you tell someone you’re just getting to know, that you really couldn’t eat anything? At least nothing solid. Liquids in general were fine – but liquids of the riboflavin-flavored, non-carbonated variety were ideal. 

“ – Do you still have the soup of the day?” 

“Enough to fill up one bowl.” 

“Great. Thanks. And water, please.” 

The waitress drags her tired feet back to the kitchen, leaving you two under the warm light bulbs that buzz overhead. 

“Just a soup? You sure?”  

“Yeah, I don’t have the biggest appetite after a gig.” 

He gives you an unconvinced side glance but doesn’t want to push you. “What a gig!” 

“You liked it?”   

“Did I like it? I’ve loved every show I’ve been to. It's different from anything I’ve seen before. So how did you guys get together?” 

He’s obviously heard the story from the others, but still your heart flutters from how he wants to hear it from your own lips. Which leads to the most wonderful meal you’ve shared with anyone in a while, exchanging stories and letting the time pass you by amidst the rows of empty booths. 

You tell him all about how you’d moved to California to study music but ended up on the road with HEX after you’d met them in San Francisco – “San Francisco, huh!? Hailing from the same land as Metallica!” he cheers; you tell him how you’d basically toured all over California by now, but hadn’t gotten the opportunity to play across the country.  In turn he tells you all about life in Hawkins, his passion for DnD and music, as well as his shows at The Hideout with his band, Corroded Coffin, every tuesday. “Nah but those gigs don’t compare to what you guys put out!” He'd been so modest, but you could see him beaming when you mentioned that now he was pretty much obliged to play for you sometime, especially after boasting that he had learned the solo of Master of Puppets the very same week that the album had dropped. 

“Oh yeah, as soon as that album was out, I spent all my free time in my room getting the riff right. Must’ve driven my uncle Wayne insane! And that’s not the craziest bit of all…” 

You had noticed his eyes going adrift for a moment which made you believe there was something to that line of thought that had to do with the panic attack he had had before, so you immediately intervened, “Well, well, well, I’m gonna have to hear it for myself then. Who knows, HEX might just need a guest to feature on a song with a guitar solo.” You smiled at him, putting your palm atop his on the dining room table to prevent him from clenching his knuckles. 

“It’ll be an honor to play for you.” He’d said, bowing with his other hand on his chest and mischievous eyes. 

You continue chatting until Eddie’s belly is full and his laughter – the way his eyes shine with pure mirth – makes you forget why you wanted to avoid him in the first place. It’s that easy. It’s just something in the way of his goofy grin and enormous eyes. 

True to his word, Eddie handled the bill and after you’d left the diner,  you walked hand in hand all the way down to dark planes of the deserted beach at night, where you tread along the sand until you found a spot to sit and gaze at the ocean to keep talking. 

Despite the summer warmth of the night, the rising tides throw all their icy breeze at you with no remorse. It creeps into your bones, making you try to hide your shivering, but Eddie notices regardless and doesn’t think when he sheds his denim jacket to put it around you.  

His bare limbs go rigid at the realization that his scars are on full display to you, and the longer he remains frozen, the more you have time to see them. 

Flustered, he crosses his arms in front of his chest in his poor attempt to cover himself. “I uhh – these are from, uhh–” 

“You don’t have to tell me about them,” you murmur with as much kindness as you could muster, itching to put your hands on him to settle him down but afraid that he would recoil at the touch. 

“It’s okay, it’s just…” He sighs and shakes his head, going mute for a long while before hoarsely whispering,  “What I’ve been through…you wouldn’t believe me.” 

He finally looks at you – big eyes pleading and filled to the brim with anguish. Hesitantly, you reach out a hand, never breaking his gaze so that he could tell you if you were crossing a line – and delicately rest your palm on his bicep, inching your face closer to his, nearly bumping your noses together. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” you humm, “But I've seen some things – experienced things that are hard to believe. Things right out of a horror movie that have left me scarred in many ways. So please, if you feel the need, don’t be afraid to confide in me. I’ll believe you.” 

He takes one big chunk of air and slowly releases it, lips twisting into a pout as he finally nods, closing his eyes as he begins, “Okay, then.”  

He interlocks your arm in his, like you’re his anchor on this strand. 

“It all started with this girl, Chrissy Cunningham. She came to me to buy drugs one day last year, right before spring break…after that, I was blamed for her murder…”   

The night grows old as he recounts his tale, with no minor detail left unsaid as the background noise of the waves grew more violent, as if in response to the horrors that Eddie confessed to you. 

If you hadn’t experienced something similar last year, you wouldn’t have believed him. 

Yes you liked to indulge in scary stories when all the lights went out and enjoyed whatever sci-fi flick was the newest summer blockbuster, but you never thought that those creatures lurked in real life too. In Eddie’s case, it was a demon named Vecna…in your case it was a vampire. 

But your own story was better left for another time. Tonight, all you could think of is Eddie. 

You can’t help it. You tighten your embrace and rest your head on his shoulder for a moment, before giving him a timid peck on the cheek that lingers – with your lips merely resting on the faint stubble on his skin. 

He leans closer to you by turning his head and resting his forehead on yours with eyes closed. 

When he opens his eyes, those luminous orbs project endless gratitude and fondness for you, rendering you speechless. Your cold heart – in all senses of the word – contracts, as if wanting all life to return to you to be able to let Eddie in. 

“Where have you been staying since you got here?” Your murmur sounds so quiet in contrast to the sound of the nightly breeze in clash with the waves. 

“My van basically.” He smirks, and your chest feels lighter when you hear that his jovial tone is returning to him, not to mention how good the sensation of his breath fanning your lips feels. 

“I have room in my home, if you want to stay with me.” 

“You sure? I don’t want to impose.” 

“It’s okay, Eddie. It will be a pleasure to have you.”   

Eddie flashes you with a smile before taking the opportunity and planting a deep kiss on your forehead, murmuring his thanks against your temple. 

Wrapped up in your own world, you don’t notice the winged silhouette in flight that traverses across the moon.

chapter 3

Taglist: @nihilnat @sweet--em @starsandroots @squirrelgirl23 @totallynotkaibiased @mopeymopeymouse

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x yn #female reader #reader insert #eddie munson fanfiction #joseph quinn #stranger things #my writing #slow burn #angst with a happy ending

[findurmuse]

Rock et Femmes badass

Style : Grunge, Punk, Punk-Rock, Pop-Punk

A la fin des années 80 dans l'état de Washington au nord ouest des USA il y avait peu de concert de groupe connue L'état était considéré comme vide et les groupe préférais d'autre destinations pour leur tournées.

Dans ce contexte à vue le jour une scène très local notamment autour de Seattle avec de nombreux groupes qui se connaissent et se supporte entre eux.

Et après ça a explosé. Grâce au Label SubPop et des petits groupe genre Alice in Chains, Pearl Jam, Soundgarden ou Nirvana deviennent mondialement populaire et la scène local trouve son nom : le grunge.

Mais a côté des super groupe y'a tous plein de pépites et moi je vais vous parler d'une facettes trop oublier du grunge a savoir les groupe de meuf badass.

Des femme engagée dans la musique il y en avais déjà dans les décennies précédentes bien sûr mais la scène de Seattle a permis l'émergence d'un vrai mouvement autour de sujets politique, des inégalités, des violence, du racisme qu'elles rencontrais dans leur vie mais aussi simplement le fait qu'elle avait autant leur place sur scène que leurs homologues masculins.

Voilà pour l'intro, maintenant place à la musique avec tous d'abord les groupe plus populaire, puis des deep cut qui méritent d'être plus connues et dans la et enfin des groupes actuelle parce que les femmes ont pas arrêté de faire de la musique badass en 1994.

I. Les groupes les plus populaires

Et on commence par celles qui est clairement plus connue pour son mari que pour son très bon groupe de musique : Courtney Love. Parce que celle qui fût la femme de Kurt Cobain (Nirvana) est aussi la frontwoman de Hole.

Des guitares bien saturé et une voix tantôt mélodique tantôt rauque dans les cris de rage de Violet ou Pretty On The Inside. Je conseil aussi Celebrity Skin dont le riff rentre en tête très vite.

Ensuite place a la leader du mouvement riot grrrls : Kathleen Hanna et Bikini Kill Je vais me répéter a ce sujet mais avec sa voix inimitable sur un rythme très punk avec des chansons qui dépasse rarement 2m30 elle parle d'émancipation et de féminisme comme dans Jet Ski, Alien She ou ma préférée de leur disco : Rebel Girls

Si les cris c'est moins votre trucs mais que vous voulez quand même du bon punk rock engagé, écoutez The Gits un de mes préféré de ce genre notamment pour sa guitare dont j'adore le ton et sa chanteuse Mia Zapata a la voix reconnaissable entre milles et au paroles souvent personnel et sombre comme dans Second Skin ou Bob - Cousin O. Malheureusement le groupe n'a pas duré longtemps a cause de la mort de Mia dans des conditions absolument ignoble . Je rajouterai Drinking Song parce que la terre a besoin de plus de chanson d'amitié.

Un petit dernier pour la route ? L7 est aussi un groupe connue et le seule de cette liste encore en activité. C'est moins "punk" mais tous aussi bon avec des mélodie entraînente et des paroles acide. Je conseil Shitlist, Fighting The Crave et surtout Pretend We're Dead

II. Quelques autres groupe de cette époque à connaitre

Pour la suite de cette série de recommandation je vais vous parler d'autre groupe de cette période. Elles sont moins connues mais mérite sans hésitation leur place dans cette liste.

Et je commence tous de suite avec 7 Years Bitch. C'est un de mes groupes préférés de cette période, leur son punk sans concession et leur parole franche qui attaque directement les problèmes de la société (souvent les mecs lol) me donne envie de renverser des gouvernements et de tuer le patriarcat.

Elles n'ont sortie que deux albums mais il sont excellents, notamment Viva Zapata dédié à la chanteuse de The Gits, tous comme M.I.A que je recommande vivement. J'ajouterai Icy Blue et le grand classique Dead Men Don't Rape.

Groupe suivant, Hammerbox, Ici on a des grosse guitare bien grasse presque métal elle la voix profonde et rauque de Carrie Akre dont j'adore le timbre.

Vraiment du grunge a l'état pur et un groupe qui mérite une meilleure reconnaissance ! Je vous recommande Bred, Hole et Hed en particulier.

Je pourrais continuer très longtemps mais je vais terminer avec un dernier groupe, Bratmobil. Que j'aime beaucoup pour la manière dont Erin Smith joue sa guitare de manière aussi simple qu'entrainante et efficace.

C'est un autre groupe qui n'a pas une longue discographique mais leur appartenance au mouvement riot grrrls et leur paroles féministe leur valent entièrement une place ici. Écoutez notamment What's Wrong With You, Cool Schmool et Bitch Theme.

III. Récents et toujours badass

Dernière partie de cette trilogie de recommandations grunge/punk/punk-rock et cette fois je veux vous parler de quelque groupe plus récents, qui continue d'être badass avec des grosse inspirations des groupes citée plus haut.

Et d'abord le groupe qui sort peut-être le plus des sonorité de ces recommandation : Meet Me @ The Altar. Iels sont tous récents et on sorties leur premier album cette année (sur le même label que Paramore soit dit en passant)

C'est du pop-punk avec des airs de la scene 2007-2013 et les paroles tournent autour des émotions de la chanteuse Edith Victoria souvent avec un son assez joyeux qui donne envie de chanter à tue tête avec un peigne en tant que micro. Je vous conseil Say It (To My Face), Kool et T.M.I en particulier.

Deuxième groupe de cette liste : The Royal They. On retourne dans un son plus punk avec de la grosse distorsion et une voix entre chant et crie sur des paroles acerbes et super bien écrites et un rythme effréné ça a vraiment l'air d'être le genre de groupe qui peut mettre le feu à un bar. Vraiment une petite perle qui je suis bien contente d'avoir découvert. Écoutez notamment C.N.T., Full Metal Black et Kamikaze

Et enfin le dernier groupe de cette looooonnnnggggguuuuuee liste que je veux vous faire découvrir, Destroy Boys C'est un espèce d'entre deux des deux groupe ci-dessus, moins vénèr et engagé que The Royal They mais plus punk que MM@TA et à mon sens c'est vraiment le descendant direct des mouvement grunge, riot grrl et tous ce dont on à déjà parler. Je trouve les paroles toujours très drôle, c'est bourré de sarcasmes et de refrain qui reste dans le crane dès la première écoute je recommande vivement Escape, Locker Room Bully et B.F.F.

Voila pour toutes ces recommendation sur mon intérêt spécifique du moment j'espère que ça vous plaira autant que ça m'a plus de vous envoyer ces pavés.

Je vous ai même fait une petite playlist avec tous les groupes dont j'ai parlé et quelques autre qui aura pu me faire écrire un post encore plus long https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1oXvDxiiiJ9FKsD8DtXO1O?si=065ab65f140c47e4 - A 🤘

#grunge #punk #punk pop #riot grrl #badass #music

[jules-has-notes]

collaboration spotlight — White Christmas puppet video by Mark McDowell

Professional singers tend to have many friends who are also professional singers, and occasionally involve them in the side projects they do for their own amusement. So when Mark McDowell decided to indulge one of his other passions in a video Christmas card, he rounded up some of his old pals and turned them into puppets.

Details:

title: I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas

performers: Mark McDowell, Geoff Castellucci, Kathy Castellucci, & Michelle Mailhot

original performers: Bing Crosby as Jim Hardy and Marjorie Reynolds as Linda Mason in Holiday Inn (1942)

written by: Irving Berlin

arranged by: Mark McDowell

release date: 20 December 2016

My favorite bits:

puppet Kathy bopping to the beat

the contrast between Geoff and Mark's timbres as they hand the melody back and forth

Kathy's lovely, sweet tone

Michelle crooning away as her puppet's costume changes from cozy sweater to concert glam

that final deep ♫ "whiiite" ♫ briefly waking Mark from his dream

Trivia:

Geoff had previously recorded a version of this song with VoicePlay for their 2012 holiday album "Peppermint Winter", and it had become a staple in their seasonal setlists.

Michelle and the Castelluccis had known each other for many years. Michelle's a cappella group, Toxic Audio (aka Vox Audio), came up around the same time as 4:2:Five in the Orlando music scene, and Geoff had subbed as TA's bass on the road quite a bit in the mid-2000s.

Kathy and Mark had been in a few gig bands together over the years, including Soul Funktion, All Night Groove / Acoustik Groove, and Six Strings Attached.

#music video #Christmas music #puppets #Mark McDowell #Geoff Castellucci #Kathy Castellucci #Michelle Mailhot #music #video

[thesinglesjukebox]

BILLY JOEL - "TURN THE LIGHTS BACK ON"

The theme narrows a little, maybe...

[4.15]

Hannah Jocelyn: The first Melodyne’d word of this song -- P L E A S E -- had me worried. This is the latest in a series of '70s and '80s rockers coming back one last time, normally with Post Malone's producer Andrew Watt at the helm. The results can either be pleasant, like the Rolling Stones' Lady Gaga collaboration "Sweet Sounds of Heaven", or abysmal, like Elton John's horribly edited "Always Love You." But Watt's not here; behind the boards instead is industry songwriter Freddy Wexler, a Billy Joel fanboy who convinced the artist to release music again. If the song sounds a lot like "Piano Man" and "Summer, Highland Falls," repeated listens reveal it's not just a cheap nostalgia grab. It sounds exactly like a new Billy Joel song should in 2024, P L E A S E aside, with a tasteful build and some grandiose but lovely lyrics: “Pride sticks out its tongue/laughs at the portrait that we’ve become/Stuck in a frame, unable to change.” Joel occupies a weird place in pop culture -- not as acclaimed as Dylan or Springsteen, but more thoughtful and introspective than the Eagles or anyone else in his imagined supergroup. With "Turn the Lights Back On," it all makes sense. He invented an archetype now filled by musicians like Adele post-21 or even Hozier: pop songwriters with enough depth to earn them a devout following even if they’re not critics' favorites. The liner notes reveal more connections. Eclectic producer Emile Haynie drops in to provide some additional production, the same way he did on "Hello" almost a decade ago, and the song is mixed by Adele's engineer Tom Elmhirst. It's an effective repositioning of Joel not as a "33-hit-wonder", not as a poet, but as one of the great pop balladeers and craftsmen. And my dad loves it, which is all that really matters. [7]

Alfred Soto: Despite the co-writers and a video whose nostalgia bid is as, ah, shameless as Paul McCartney's last year, "Turn the Lights Back On" sounds like any generic thing that might've appeared on Storm Front or The Bridge. Which is the point. [4]

Aaron Bergstrom: A direct descendant of Elton John's far superior "This Train Don't Stop There Anymore," as underlined by their similar music video treatments. While Joel was able to use cutting-edge AI technology to de-age himself in his video, Sir Elton had to make do with the tools available to him back in 2001, which is to say, Justin Timberlake. (Both AI and Timberlake are now trying to make their own music, with limited success.) [5]

Ian Mathers: Get the fuck outta here with this uncanny valley "AI" CGI shit. I'm not shocked boomers would cling to yet another way to deny they're old as fuck now -- it'll happen to all of us, I'm sure -- but it's still repugnant. Despite Joel being away for years, god knows you still hear the hits, so I'm kind of shocked that his voice seems to have lost most of its distinctive timbre. If you'd played me this blind I don't think I could have told you the singer, although the voice would have felt weirdly familiar. And look, respect to the man's undeniable achievements in his craft (which even haters should admit he takes pretty damn seriously) and especially stardom/mass popularity, but partly given the characterlessness to his performance here, my answer to "did I wait too long, to turn the lights back on?" is... yeah, you kinda did. I don't think the reason I loved the ABBA comeback singles and not this is just because I like ABBA and don't care for Billy Joel; I genuinely think they did a better job on playing off their context than he does here. [5]

TA Inskeep: I'd like to keep them off, please.  [1]

Isabel Cole: Billy Joel was one of the few artists my whole family could agree on during long trips in the car; my first concert was his dual tour with Elton John at Madison Square Garden. So on the one hand, the sheer nostalgic sentiment aroused in me by the thought of Billy going back to songwriting after all these years is real, and powerful. On the other, I know whereof I speak when I say that even assessed by the generous lens of someone who was once a 13-year-old girl glad to name Songs in the Attic as her favorite album, this is mid-level Billy at best. Lyrically, so much of his appeal has always been his willingness to indulge—in shamelessness, in sentiment, in spite, in just being kind of an asshole—but this song is too busy wrestling ponderously with its own existence to have that kind of fun; musically, it’s just “I’ve Loved These Days” but not as good. [4]

Rachel Saywitz: It's good, for a budget store "Piano Man."  [5]

Dave Moore: The best thing I can say for this lugubrious comeback ballad, loosely patterned on vintage Billy Joel and a dollop of "Hey Jude," is that it technically clocks in at under four minutes. The worst thing I can say about it is that I am not yet convinced the vocals aren't BillyJoelAI, though it does sound like him really playing the piano (derogatory). [3]

Daniel Montesinos-Donaghy: God, what a trudge — the type of pianoman mewls I thought every Joel song would be as an uneducated youth. But then I heard "Movin' Out," and what a fuckin' joint! (Fun fact: I think a quick browse of Billy Joel's biggest hits has taught me "Movin' Out" is, uh, the only BJ jam I like. Sorry.) [3]

Katherine St. Asaph: I dislike the term "overproduced" in criticism; it's often a way to sneer at pop without having to say something so gauche. But when you have a swelling string section -- a mercilessly effective cheat code to make a listener moved -- and yet that listener cannot be moved because she can't fucking hear it over everything else in the arrangement, your song is overproduced. When you autotune everything about your singer's voice except the notes that he actually flubbed, your song is -- well, not overproduced exactly, but produced poorly. Can't imagine how I'd feel if I were even a Billy Joel fan! One singular point because I learned something: it's not just the de-aging "AI" (scare quotes), Billy Joel really did look kinda like Harry Styles back then. (Harry Styles would probably love to remake this. It would still be a [1]). [1]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: This absolutely shouldn't work on me. I, of sound mind and body and possessing no strong relationship with the music of Billy Joel, ought not to have any reaction to this at all. It's a Billy Joel song that is once again about the romance between the performer and the audience, hitting all the marks he last hit 30 years ago. If nearly everything else he's done leaves me inert, then this should do the same. Yet something about its twilight glory, the way Joel puts himself through his own paces, moves me nonetheless.  [6]

Brad Shoup: I know I'm not the first person to interpret this as a metaphor for Joel's relationship with the public. For me, he's always been a sort of pop midpoint, and I've never been able to budge him. Everything he's ever done has been... fine: the bangers always fuck up somewhere, the groaners are never that embarrassing. So leaving things off with "The River of Dreams" (my favorite) wouldn't have been a bad way to go. This is confident schlock. The snare smacks like a worn copy of "Bridge Over Troubled Water"; he does a little "Piano Man" twirl before the orchestra goes for broke. I don't think he waited too long; I think this song was within him the whole time, for better or worse. [5]

Nortey Dowuona: I understand the hatred. For us, being smooth and easy on the ears is a crime. To refuse the challenges that push the artform of popular music and music culture, or worse, to fight them tooth and nail, is enough to make you an enemy in our eyes. But I do understand the actual reason to simply play to the middle of the road: to connect with everyone since you have learned, possibly later or earlier, we are a rare and bold breed, despite the infighting, backbiting and slimy behavior I will not detail here. Billy Joel has waited long enough -- he at the height of his popularity was despised and condemned, a figurehead for the stultifying demands of white yuppiedom. Unfortunately he was wrong; the fire was started, and will never stop. We, as a far more revered and loved writer said, made our choice as a species, and it's just a question of how long it takes to play out. Billy once wrote of New York being destroyed and its citizens fleeing like rats to Miami, reminiscing over their glory days. But now in 2024, New York refuses to go away. Our mayor, as Wiki and MIKE said, is a cop, and millions are homeless and starving, struggling to keep afloat and trying not to crumble every time a blank, greasy-faced kid with worn-out clothes playing with a iPhone 14 who could afford to give you $5 shakes his head to ignore you. I understand the hatred. But I can't feel it because the hatred feels pointless, empty, a target for those old timers who have fled the sinking ship and their ancestors who only know to despise the old place from stories and memories. He might've waited too long to turn the lights back once since the wires have rotted and the bulbs are broken, but not because the city is empty. It's full of your fanboys and their grandchildren, who now feel the sour bitterness that drove you to flee and cannot choose any other feeling. It's not too late -- it's never too late. [5]

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#billy joel #music #music writing #music reviews #music criticism #the singles jukebox #Youtube