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dollarbin · 5 months

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Shakey Sundays #2:

Neil Young's Re-ac-tor

Yeah, yeah, I know: I committed to doing Neil Young's studio albums in chronological order. And yes, I'm also very aware that writing about Re-ac-tor, Neil Young's sloppy train wreck of a record from 81, instead of the foundational masterpiece that is his second record, Everybody Knows This is Nowhere, is deeply suspect.

But chronology and order have no place in a dollar bin: you never know what you are going to get, aside from sore knees and dirty fingers, when you get down on the floor and start rifling through a battered box of LP's. And so I'm afraid you have no business expecting anything different here in the Dollar Bin. I'm gonna write about all Neil's albums but I'm gonna do it in whatever order strikes my fancy each week.

And so it's time to talk about Re-ac-tor!

First, yeah, the record kinda sucks. Young seemingly had way more important things on his mind at this point, some of them worthy pursuits (caring for his young child with cerebral palsy) and some of them far less worthy (working on his dumpster fire of a movie, Human Highway). So yeah, let's start by acknowledging that this was perhaps his worst record to date in 81.

But it's also totally awesome! Let's count the ways.

First off, Re-ac-tor is the most boneheaded of all Neil Young's records. This is a big statement to make - he's got a few totally boneheaded records - but when it comes to Neil Young boneheaded is a good thing! Take the opening track, Opera Star. It's safe to say that any song which describes anyone as "born to rock" is not going to win a Pulitzer. But take a listen: I'd argue that Young was busy being silly for his own benefit - and ours. There's only two ways to listen to music like this by Young: you can laugh or cry. I fall off my chair laughing every time.

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Young was genuinely striving to be a responsible father and husband at this phase in his life. Every backing vocal and nearly every lyric on the entire record sounds like he was blowing off steam by reliving life as a 14 year old.

There's something to be said for such an approach. 14 years earlier Dylan had been a good husband all day, then balanced things out by getting drunk with The Band all night in the Big Pink basement. And that lifestyle led to the incomparable Basement Tapes.

But he's Bob Dylan, and Bob can do some incredible stuff. Every time I've left my earnest job and family pursuits to spend a night in the desert with men and cans of pilsner, then discovered the next morning that somehow my shoes melted in the fire while I was still wearing them, I have routinely failed to make great art in the process.

So, did Neil pull a Bob on Re-ac-tor? Is it as good as The Basement Tapes? No sir. But boneheaded songs like Opera Star, T-Bone (which, as I mentioned in Shakey #1, is indeed entirely dedicated to describing one man's plethora of mashed potatoes) and Surfer Joe and Moe the Sleaze are so boneheaded that they make me happy. And what's better than being made happy?

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And yet, the record also features one of the least boneheaded of all Young's songs on it. One of Neil's best concerts ever had occured four years before, a stand alone, solo show he described as that year's "World Tour". The show is full of important new songs that would come out on Rust Never Sleeps. But the best song of the night was one he held onto until Re-ac-tor. Take a listen to Shots from the show:

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Nice huh? Now listen to how Neil and the boys repackage that sweet melody and dense imagery into a soundtrack for machine gun wielding cavemen in some 80's era video game:

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Sure, the Commodore-64-level sound effects are silly and the drums wear me out, but Neil's singing and his gnarly guitar are packaged into a single sonic missile, and it's aimed right at my soul. Note that the wrap-things-up-sweetly bridge at the end of the earlier live solo version was ditched for the album take: Neil placed Shots as the last song on Re-ac-tor so as to insure that we'd wind up terrified and exhausted, wondering what all the giggling was about early on. Neil Young: he's always messing with you.

And we can't talk about the great elements of this record without making note of the packaging. Neil famously ditched Reprise Records after Re-ac-tor, citing frustrations about how they were failing to market him. I don't know what the hell he was complaining about: Re-ac-tor, and the equally hodgepodge and brilliant record that preceded it, Hawks and Doves, are both beautifully packaged, and that packaging seems focused solely on pleasing Neil (and, thereby, his most hardcore fans).

Surely no one in the art department talked him into putting the serenity prayer on the back cover but translating it into Latin; surely no one other than Young wanted to issue the album's single as a triangle or add inexplicable hyphens to the title; rather, Reprise just did every whimsical thing Young could think of so as to keep him happy. And they made it all look good in the process.

And these efforts paid off in the marketplace: Re-ac-tor is by far the easiest record of Neil's to find used. Tons of people bought it (and tons have since ditched it). You can't complain about your record company if there are millions of once-purchased copies clogging up Dollar Bins 40 years later. That's on you.

But Reprise's whole Please Neil campaign didn't work as intended: he left anyway.

I got my own copy 30+ years ago as a "hey, do you want this piece of crap I found in my house?" gift from my mom's friend. We're gonna go slightly incognito here and not use real names because what follows will be read by my millions of followers and the family in question may not wish to become as famous as my famous brother. So we'll call the woman in question Jane Austen, after my favorite author, and we'll call her husband Stephen Stills, after everyone's least favorite musician.

Why Jane Austen owned Re-ac-tor to begin with is a complete mystery. She gave me After the Goldrush and Sergeant Pepper, both on tape, the first Christmas I announced that I was into music (I did not understand either album on any level at that point; what 12 year old would?) so she was obviously cool and she liked Neil Young. But when she pawned her entire small record collection off on me a few years later, Re-ac-tor was the only Young record. Otherwise it was a lot of Waylon Jennings (I've Always Been Crazy was in the haul; someone put that on my list of records to write about!) and Barbara Streisand. Imagine Re-ac-tor as your only Neil Young record! What was the deal?

I've got a theory. In 81 Jane had a young child and was probably pregnant with her second kid. And her husband, Stephen Stills, was the world's biggest nutjob; in fact, he was a lot like the real Stephen Stills: he never had a proper job, he was a minor (less so than Stills) celebrity who thought he was God's gift to everyone around him and his professional/creative projects were totally bonkers. In that last instance, I guess he was a lot more like Neil himself, who is probably busy flying down the highway as we speak in his new moon powered Hummer.

I also suspect Stephen was high for most of my childhood. That makes him like Neil and Stills. I enjoyed being around his crazed enthusiasm about everything (we played a lot of Nintendo's Duck Hunter together), except when he was shouting, ranting drunk.

"Stephen" was (again, very mildly) famous for two ludicrous reasons. I'm going to tell you both of them and then you are not going to believe me. But I am not making this stuff up!

Number one: Stephen was the alleged inventor of the wet t-shirt competition. As in, they did not exist until he got drunk enough to invent them. Whether he actually deserved this claim to fame is unclear. But people believed him.

Number two: he definitely owned a patent for the world's biggest zipper.

I told you that you would not believe me!

Back to the wet t-shirt part. Wikipedia backs Stephen's story up, maybe. There's a SoCal skiiing filmmaker, who is not Stephen, who claimed responsibility for the idea in the early 70's. Everything about that guy and his claim basically matches up with the stories I heard from Stephen as a kid; maybe he worked for the guy, or maybe he was on hand to lead the macho action? Who knows. You decide.

But by the 80's Stephen really did own a patent for a giant zipper - stop laughing! - and he had pretty well documented (at the time) plans to put an entire iceberg inside a giant plastic bag - I'm serious, stop laughing while reading my very serious blog! - zip the bag up, haul it to Saudi Arabia, and then sell it to the highest bidder. You can't make stuff like this up! I'm no internet sleuth but here's a starting point if you want to get into the whole bizarre concept.

Here's one more classic story about "Stephen Stills" which has absolutely nothing to do with Re-ac-tor: at some point my parents had to make an emergency trip to the hospital at night (maybe it was my sister's birth? my grandfather's death? maybe there were kidney stones involved?) and the only person they could think of to come over at a moment's notice with Stephen. Well he took a break from his late night zippering and hustled on over, then promptly fell asleep in their bed. I was three or four and I came up to their room in my childlike way at some point in the night with needs. My 78 year old mother still practically falls out of her own chair laughing every time she recalls what I reported to her when she got home the next day:

"Mom, last night when I came up to your bed you were snoring super loud and wouldn't wake up and dad wasn't there and you looked just like Stephen Stills!"

I remember Stephen periodically appearing in the LA Times for profiles about his whole wacko giant zipper plan. I remember at one point he paid someone to write an entire novel, or maybe it was a screenplay, about him and his zipper saving a future, water-starved planet Earth. I'm surprised Neil Young didn't buy the rights for his sequel to Human Highway.

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Suffice it to say that "Stephen Stills" never hauled an iceberg anywhere. He eventually went broke and became legitimately nuts. Happily, "Jane Austen" eventually dumped him. Maybe she did so because the zipper thing was going nowhere; maybe she did so because when she was nine months pregnant he brought home a copy of Re-ac-tor while, lit up a big doobie and then dropped the needle on Opera Star...

... Some things never change;

They say the way they are.

You were born to rock;

You'll never be an Opera Star...

#neil young #shakey sundays #giant zipper #stephen stills still sucks #Youtube

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thekillerssluts · 4 years

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We’ve Got A File On You: Win Butler

In a year when a lot of our plans have been on hold, Win Butler has been busy. In April, the Arcade Fire ringleader let us know that the band had been working on music shortly before lockdown, and then he let us hear some of it. Last week, on the night of the election, the band debuted a new song called “Generation A.” Apparently, Butler was one of the people who found quarantine more inspiring than suffocating. Just a couple weeks ago, he amended his previous hints with the update that he’s written “two or three” Arcade Fire albums thanks to having to stay still all year long.

It seems like there’ll be a whole lot of new Arcade Fire goings-on to parse sometime on the horizon, but that isn’t the reason Butler and I got on the phone one recent October afternoon. Butler’s not quite ready to talk about forthcoming music yet, aside from saying this era of writing gives him flashbacks to that which preceded The Suburbs and promising “The new shit is about some of the best shit we’ve ever done” as we say goodbye.

In the meantime, there have been some milestones this year: The Suburbs turned 10; Butler turned 40. There is, of course, a whole lot of rich Arcade Fire history between their early ’00s origins and now. There are too many high-profile collabs to dig through, too many pop culture crossovers to cover, in just one conversation. But before Arcade Fire’s next chapter begins, while we both had a moment of quiet at home in the year 2020, Butler and I took some time to dig back through highlights and surprises from across his career.

Appearing In Bill & Ted Face The Music (2020)

How did this happen?

WIN BUTLER: They were filming in New Orleans. I’m kind of the exact age where Bill & Ted really has a soft spot in my worldview. [Laughs] That was just like, yeah, of course I want to be in the Future Council. That’s the part I was born to play. No, it’s funny, it was just one of these random things that come through the email. Usually, it’s, “Nope, nope, nope, nope.” But this was, “Tell me when, tell me where, I’ll be there.” It was on soundstages. When we were filming it, Tommy Lee from Mötley Crüe was back there, and he sort of disappeared at some point. I got to bring my son, who’s six. He was hanging out and we were talking to Keanu about Canada and punk bands back in the day. It was a pretty sweet hang. It was a bright spot in 2020, let me put it that way.

You say you get these emails — is that random stuff they want Arcade Fire to do, or there’ve been other cameos you turned down?

BUTLER: Oh, no, it’s mostly random licensing or stuff that goes to the junk box. But every once in a while, it’s like, “Hey, that sounds like a nice way to spend the day.” I started out in film. I went to Sarah Lawrence College in New York around 2000. I had really wanted to go to film school, and I could never get in. [Laughs] Initially, the song “The Suburbs” was an idea I had for a film and it seemed easier to make a song than a film.

The Suburbs (2010)

That was a convenient segue. The Suburbs just turned 10. I was wondering if you have gone back and revisited it much amidst that anniversary.

BUTLER: The whole experience of Funeral was such a rollercoaster. We were on the road so long. We didn’t have much of a break going into the second record. For The Suburbs, Régine and I — I don’t think we saw anyone for a year straight before we even started demoing or anything for that record.

It was a time in my life… I don’t know, I was in my late twenties, and there were all these details of my childhood in Houston. You know, I moved to Canada when I was 19. [Houston] almost felt like this other life I had. I would close my eyes and imagine riding my bike through town and trying to find the edges of my memory. There was kind of all this emotion that came up through that, and I wanted to capture it. It’s funny, as a songwriter, most of the time I feel like my mind is living in the near future. You’re listening for these little signals in the air. This was almost inhabiting the emotional space of these memories but thinking about it as the future.

When you say it like that, I’m curious if the album feels different to you now that you’re a father yourself and another 10 years down the line. Like another layer to that refracted youth, sort of?

BUTLER: Totally. In a way, I feel like the last year has been a parallel to that year before The Suburbs. Then I was kind of a hermit by choice, and this has more been the world conspiring to make me a hermit, but it has been a really introspective. In a sense, the material that we’ve been working on feels the same way, this hybrid of your emotional landscape and the future.

It’s almost seasonal, like a trade wind that blows in once in a while. I remember we played with Neil Young when he was still doing the Bridge School Benefit and hearing him sing “Old Man” as an old man, almost like he wrote the song when he was 22 to sing when he was 80. I think there’s an element on that Suburbs record that’s like that as well.

Winning The Grammy For Album Of The Year (2011)

Obviously that was a huge turning point for Arcade Fire because you won the Grammy the following year. As a suburban indie fan at the time, I had no real grasp on how big certain bands were. From where I was, it was pretty trippy that you guys won that.

BUTLER: I mean, tell me about it. It was definitely pretty trippy.

There are very, very early moments of you guys getting linked up with some iconic artists. Arcade Fire got plenty of respect from the beginning. But at the same time, the Grammys is something different. That’s a moment of mainstream insurgency. Ten years on, you’re one of the big indie bands of your generation, but also one of the only rock bands to get to that level in recent times.

BUTLER: I don’t know it was the best record that year, but it was definitely the best record nominated that year. I mean, we were up against a Lady Gaga remix record and like, Katy Perry. We weren’t up against a great Eminem record, we were up against a not-that-great Eminem record. In a certain sense, I was like, “Well, I think we should win.” [Laughs] I think we had the best record.

I remember in high school Radiohead and Björk were the two [new artists I loved]. I bought The Bends the day it came out, I bought Homogenic the day it came out. And then everything else I listened to was artists that had broken up 20 years earlier. I remember watching the Grammys the year OK Computer was nominated and it didn’t win, and I was just like, “Oh, that thing must not mean anything then.” I remember Dylan won, and it’s a really great Dylan record, but objectively OK Computer was the best record. So if that didn’t win, then what the hell does that thing mean? After that, I didn’t think about the Grammys that much. It wasn’t on my list of my dreams of my career and what I could accomplish and what I wanted to do.

For me, I was looking more at a band like the Cure or New Order, these bands that were really just artistic entities but you would hear them at a pharmacy once in a while. Like, I’d hear “Bizarre Love Triangle” come on in the pharmacy in Houston and just be like, “Is this from outer space? What the fuck is this?” My dreams for our band was to do for other people what those bands did for me, which was just throw me a fucking lifeline. Because I was just like, “What is this world, and where are my people, and how can I feel OK existing?” My grandfather played in big bands and played with Louis Armstrong, and he bought me a guitar when I was 15. I held on to that thing — if I didn’t have that I don’t think I would’ve made it out of high school. It literally saved my life. I don’t think I could exist without that.

For me, the Grammy thing was strangely moving. Even up until the moment we won, I just felt like an interloper. Even when we won, people looked at us like aliens. Like, “Who? What?” You know, I’m a competitive person. It was really exciting. Cool, awesome, the universe makes sense for one second. It’s interesting, I didn’t expect it to mean anything until we won, and then it meant something.

David Bowie (2005, 2013, Throughout)

I alluded to this earlier but: The Grammys were like an industry stamp of approval. From the beginning, however, you guys were embraced by a lot of elder artists — particularly artists who were influences on the band. One I wanted to talk about was David Bowie. He was a very early supporter; you performed together in 2005, which turned into a live EP. Then he shows up on “Reflektor” in 2013. Somewhere around 2015, you talked about how you’d come to regard him as this professor-type character in your life. He came to your first New York show, right?

BUTLER: Our first headlining show, when we played at the Bowery, Bowie and David Byrne came to that show.

Wow, no pressure huh.

BUTLER: It sort of set the table. Like, “Well, I guess this is how it’s going to be right out of the gate.” [Laughs] It’s funny, I have a photo of David in my studio that I look at when I’m working sometimes. It’s just him in a dressing room with one of those kind of Hollywood mirrors behind him. He really… I don’t know, he felt some sort of spiritual connection with us. It wasn’t like he wanted anything from us. I just think he wanted to say, “Hey guys, you’re going on the right path, keep going.”

I was emailing him over all those years. I don’t know if you have anyone close to you that’s died and you go back and read those emails, it’s really these strange digital fragments of someone you care about. After he sang on “Reflektor,” Régine and I bought him a painting in Haiti as a thank you gift. We were supposed to mail it to him and we got busy and forgot about it, and in the interim he passed. I knew he wasn’t well, but I didn’t know he was dying. Maybe a couple months later I remembered the painting and I dug it out and it was a painting of a black star. A voodoo painting of a black star with rays coming out of it.

I didn’t know anything about his record being Blackstar or anything like that. Now it’s on the wall of my bedroom. Shit like that sometimes happens in my life. I take it for what it is. I don’t know exactly what that means and I just feel grateful… I don’t know man. Even just how inspiring, what he put into his art even in death. He’s someone I think about at least on a weekly basis.

Backing Up Mick Jagger On SNL (2012), Playing With The Rolling Stones (2013)

Obviously that was an ongoing relationship, and you’ve worked with David Byrne too, and you referenced playing with Neil Young. Still: Being onstage with the Rolling Stones seems particularly daunting.

BUTLER: We were Mick’s backing band on SNL. SNL is maybe one of my favorite American institutions. I don’t know if it’s the Canadian thing since Lorne [Michaels] is Canadian. The first time we did it, it was just like, “This dude is my friend.” I don’t know if Lorne’s kids like Arcade Fire or something. But I was in New York randomly and he was like, “Mick’s doing a thing,” and I said, “We do a pretty amazing cover of ‘The Last Time,’” and he said “Come on down, let’s do it.” Then we’re Mick’s backing band. I don’t know, pretty fucking cool.

What is Mick Jagger like to work with?

BUTLER: Mick is like: As soon as the light goes on, he’s a different person. When he turns it on, it’s like this muscle memory — like if you were with the greatest ballet dancer ever, and you say go and this energy comes out of him that is so practiced. It’s someone who’s an absolute master, after practicing something for decades and decades and decades. That was pretty amazing to see. You’re chatting with someone, we’re at the piano and we’re talking about an arrangement, “OK, let’s do a run,” and then, “Boom! Shit!” There he is.

It’s this other level. I feel like people at that level, music’s not something they’re fucking around with. [Laughs] Music is a spirit. You hear something, and if it strikes a chord with you, it connects something at your deepest core. People like that, when you see them do their thing, it really is this other plane. It’s not this show thing. It’s more of a possession. You can hear it in the music.

I feel like I’ve listened to more music during COVID than any time since I was like, 18. I had this moment when I was listening to these amazing records from the 1950s. You can hear the room. It’s almost like audio VR — you can hear the drummer here and the bass player over here. There’s a sense of space, particularly to that older music. It’s a snapshot. If you hear “La Bamba,” right now, that is what it is. It’s a spirit captured on vinyl, on a piece of tape. It’s alive within that.

With people like Mick, they’re a little bit closer to the spirit of rock ’n’ roll — a literal spirit, not a figurative spirit. Bowie was the same. When he played with us in Central Park, the second he hit the stage he’s illuminated. You’re like, “Oh, shit, that’s what it is.” He’s a human when you’re talking to him and as soon as he’s in it, he’s touched by another thing.

SNL (2007-Present)

I’m glad you brought SNL up, because you’ve been on it a bunch of times, but you’re also one of the musical acts they’ve brought into skits. Like, they actually wrote a game show around you. How does that work? Did they write that sketch with you guys, or you walked in and they’re like, “Hey, by the way…”

BUTLER: I can’t remember, I think we’ve been six or seven times. We’ve been there for a couple different casts at this point. The Lonely Island dudes, those are so my dudes. In another life, I would’ve been in Lonely Island, that would’ve been my dream to just fuck around with my friends; when we were first writing music we were kinda joking around because you’re too insecure to try. A lot of times [at SNL], we’ve played for the staff when we’re there, because you get so fired up to play one or two songs and you’re playing live so your endorphins are running so we just sort of keep playing afterwards. I feel like they appreciate that, it kinda feels like you’re on the same team or something.

I was backstage at SNL once last year, and it is pretty crazy to see it all from the inside like that.

BUTLER: It’s so crazy. They write it all that fucking week, and then to see the differences between the dress rehearsal and the live show. They do a little meeting in Lorne’s office. They’ve done the dress rehearsal and it’s still this tiny office and every cameraman and every cast member is crammed in this little office and Lorne’s like, “Make it a blue light instead of a green light at minute 23, and change this word to this word, I don’t think that’s funny, change that, OK, go,” and everyone’s got pencils writing this down. It’s still fucking that. And you know, it hits and misses sometimes, but they’re doing it.

How long did you have to work on your De Niro impression for that skit?

BUTLER: It’s actually more of a Billy Baldwin impersonation, but it seemed to work for De Niro as well. [Laughs] My only real impression is I can look exactly like Billy Baldwin if I want to. If there’s any casting directors reading this and you need a Billy Baldwin impersonator, I’m your man.

LCD Soundsystem’s Goodbye Show (2011)

You’re the one who ended up serendipitously coining the title of the live album.

BUTLER: [Laughs] That is true. That was genuine. He was being a little talky.

I moved to New York before I moved to Montreal, and I would go to the city and go to shows and I didn’t see one fucking thing that was good in the whole year. I was like, “Wait, I thought New York was the shit, where is it?” All I saw was bad, very industry bands. I couldn’t find anything, I wasn’t cool enough to figure out what was going on. There’s very few bands that I really think of, like bands of my generation where I heard them and thought “These are my people.” For me it was the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, LCD, and Wolf Parade. When I heard those bands, I thought, “These are my fellow pilgrims.” It was art, DIY, no bullshit, just trying to make something great that communicates to people. It’s real and emotional.

James is really just one of us. He’s just such a great engineer and really into the way things sound and really passionate about details. It’s rare to meet people like that. James was working with us when Bowie came in, when we were in Electric Lady. James had never met Bowie before. The first 7” he ever bought was “Fame.” We’re in this studio, and the last time Bowie was there he had cut “Fame” with John Lennon, in the same studio. We were all like, “This is the right place to be.”

James is just a man after my own heart. We did a tour with them on Neon Bible. We were playing to a thousand people in Salt Like City and I was like, “Man, in a couple years a lot more people are going to wish they were at this show.” What a fucking great live band.

Scoring Her (2013)

What kind of headspace did you have to get into for this vs. making an album?

BUTLER: Spike [Jonze] came to a bunch of our early shows on Funeral. The second I met him he was just immediately one of my best friends. He thinks about the world the same way. Even though we work in different mediums he was someone I knew I’d be working with in some capacity. I was visiting LA and I was staying with Spike just randomly one time, in the early days of him working on the script for Her. I was reading the script and immediately thinking about how it could sound, and I was like, “Well, we should fucking do the score to this movie.”

When you’re working on a record, it’s so rigid, what works on a song and what doesn’t work on a song. It can be so limiting in a way. Within the band, there’s so many different talents and color palettes and things people bring to the table, so it was cool to do something where the boss is the picture. It doesn’t matter how anyone feels about a piece, if it’s working for Spike, if it’s working in harmony with the picture, that’s what the boss is — the emotionality of the picture. It’s not about you, it’s in service to this bigger thing. It was a cool opportunity for all of us to use different aspects of things we do, and to work with Owen [Pallett], who had done a lot of strings on our records. It uses a totally different part of your brain.

Do you want to do more of that kind of work, or was it this specific story from Spike that spoke to you?

BUTLER: I can say pretty confidently that I’ll work with Spike in the future. It definitely takes a lot of energy. It’s definitely something I’m interested in, but I feel like while I’ve got the juice it’s good to spend as much energy writing songs as we can. It’s pretty fucking hard to make a record, believe it or not.

Future’s “Might As Well” Sampling “Owl” From Her(2017)

Are you a big Future fan?

BUTLER: I love Future. There’s something in the rhythm of the thing he does that actually reminds me of some music from Haiti, in this really deep, subtle way I can’t put my finger on. There’s something almost mystical in the way he sounds, and I thought that was really cool that they sampled that soundtrack. His shit does sound like the future still. I think it’s pretty special.

The Reach Of ”Wake Up” (2004-Present)

This song has had this big pop-culture reach over the years. U2 used it as their walk-on music in the ‘00s. It was used in the trailer for another Spike movie, Where The Wild Things Are. Macy Gray and John Legend both covered it. Microsoft ripped it off for a commercial. It was used in a commercial for LA’s bid for the Olympics.

BUTLER: That Microsoft money went to Haiti, by the way. They did rip it off. [Laughs] Thank you Microsoft.

As far as I know that’s far from an exhaustive list, too. It’s just one of those songs that’s gone out and become a part of the atmosphere. Even a lot of big bands don’t necessarily have a song like that. What do you think it is about “Wake Up” that’s registered in so many different contexts?

BUTLER: From the time we wrote that song to now, the biggest difference in my life is I’ve traveled the world and I’ve been able to play music in all these different cultures and feel the ways different countries feel music. Not only listening to the music in other countries but seeing how they feel the music I play.

I remember around The Suburbs we played in rural Haiti. It was our first time playing in a place where nobody in the audience had any of the reference points of the music we played. We were playing in the mountains, there were people walking in barefoot to the concert. We were playing these songs we had been touring the world with, and the energy from the crowd was so different. The things they responded to, the things they felt, it actually fundamentally changed the way I heard my own music. It made me start to think about music not just from my own perspective but culturally how people hear it and feel it.

I think the one thing that kind of transcends everything across all cultures is melody. Régine was playing that melody on piano in our rehearsal room. I hear it like it was yesterday. It was like, “That’s the shit.” [Laughs] Being present and being in the room, hearing something and really giving yourself to it, just singing that shit like it really meant it and feeling the power of that melody and trying to push it until it breaks. That’s something I think about, just how great it is to have people to play music with. To say it like you mean it.

I remember singing that song in Montreal, in these lofts. Most of our early fans, the first time we played that song, they were like “Fuck this shit, I want the acoustic shit.” People were so negative. I remember a lot of early fans didn’t come to our shows after that because we were suddenly screaming at the top of our lungs and playing electric guitars. It was like, “Everyone here hates this, that means we must be going in the right direction.” [Laughs] But yeah, don’t be discouraged if people hate something. It doesn’t mean shit.

https://www.stereogum.com/2105395/win-butler-interview-spike-jonze-arcade-fire-snl-mick-jagger-david-bowie/interviews/weve-got-a-file-on-you/

#Arcade Fire #Win Butler #interview

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sunflowersunshinevol6 · 4 years

Text

She

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Warnings: fluffy fluff

Word Count: 1,952

A/N: just a quick little blurb inspired by Selena and Chris Perez. That is where the idea originally came from so I don't take credit for that. However my OC's are my own. Feel free to message me if you like it, I always love feedback. Thank you for taking the time to read it!

"Aaron broke his arm. So we won't have him in the band for a little while..." Y/N looked up from the rhinestones she was sewing into her one of her new outfits. Dylan, her older brother, sat at the front of the bus with their father, discussing what had happened to their guitarist.

"It'll be a tight squeeze but do you think you can find another guitarist before Houston?" Y/N smiled, it never mattered what the situation was, her father was always calm, always prepared for a plan b.

They had, of course, been doing this for years.

When Y/N was young, around eight or nine, her father realized she had a talent for singing. She was actually quite good, even from that age. It had inspired him to start a band, with her as the frontwoman. It had been years or hard work with little reward, so now that they were finally gaining a little momentum, her father wasn't gonna let his nephew's broken arm stop them from reaching for the stars.

"I can make a few calls. I know some people that might be in the area." Y/N's father reached out, patting his son's cheek.

"Thanks son." Y/N smiled at the interaction between father and son before going back to the outfit she was designing. They had a couple more hours until they got home, she couldn't wait to try on the new outfit she'd been working on.

"But if we change the note, have me go an octave higher during the live performances that might sound cool." Amber, Y/N's best friend, was sprawled out across her bed as Y/N sat in her desk chair, guitar in lap.

"You always sound amazing Y/N. I think whatever you choose to do you'll blow everyone away. You always do." Y/N blushed slightly at the compliment and smiled. Amber had always been her biggest supporter, aside from her family. It meant a lot to her to have a friend that stuck by her no matter what. It never mattered how hectic Y/N's life was, Amber was always there.

The sound of quick footsteps up the stairs ended their conversation as Y/N's sister, Lily burst into the bedroom, a huge smile on her face.

"Guys!" She said excitedly. "Ya'll are not going to believe what is downstairs!" Amber sat up just as Lily grabbed her arm, yanking her off the bed. "Come on!" Y/N scrambled, setting her guitar down and jumping over her bed.

"Wait for me!" She called after them.

Y/N's father wasn't too impressed, but he wasn't bad. Harry Styles, the englishman Dylan had managed to find, stood in front of him. He wore a faded rolling stones t shirt, black skinny Jean's that were ripped at the knees and boots.

"So Harry, have you got any experience in a band?" Harry nodded, fiddling with the strap of his guitar, he hoped he didn't seem too nervous.

"Was in a band called 'White Eskimo' in high school. We did alright. Won a battle of the bands." Y/N's father nodded. He saw out of the corner of his eye, the girls hiding in the hallway, watching the interactions. He had to hide his smile. Of course they would be nosy.

"What are you playing for us today?"

"Thought I'd play 'Been down so long' by The Doors."

"You a Jim Morrison fan?" Harry nodded.

"Definetly." Y/N's father made a sweeping gesture with his hand, giving Harry the floor. He began to play, his confidence soaring with every note.

"He's handsome isn't he?" Lily whispered to her sister and her friend. Y/N nodded excitedly. And he was good at the guitar, maybe even better than Aaron. Her eyes fell down to his hands, watching the way he strummed the guitar, his fingers moving gracefully, beautifully over the strings.

"He's from England?" Y/N's daydream is broken by her friend's eager whisper. She turned her head to the other two girls, listening to their conversation quietly.

"Dylan got a call from him almost immediately after he started posting the flyer. Apparently the band he was in is on a break or something. He got bored." Y/N nodded, licking her lips as she turned her gaze back to him. He was gorgeous, his long brown hair falling into his face as he played with passion.

Harry smiled proudly when the song was over. Y/N's father sat in his arm chair, fingers pressing against his chin, eyebrows knotted deep in thought. The longer the silence stretched, the less confident Harry felt.

"That was really good," he finally said, looking at Dylan. "You mind if we talk privately for a moment?" Harry shook his head as Y/N's father got up and motioned for Dylan to follow him. The girls turned to sneak back upstairs only to come back down when they heard;

"Girls. You too. Kitchen please."

In the kitchen they all stood around the table, talking about Harry's talent and his skills. Y/N's father crossed his arms, shaking his head slightly.

"He doesn't play our kind of music." He said.

"He's versatile dad. He can play anything...and he's the best option right now. We don't have time to keep looking for a replacement, we go on tour next week." Y/N's father turned his head to her. The final decision would rest with her, it was her show after all.

"Let's give him a shot Dad. He was really good."

Harry called his mum as soon as he got in the car. After what had felt like ages, Dylan and his dad came back into the living room, telling him he had got the gig. He couldn't contain his excitement.

He had heard Y/N sing before. He had actually gone to a couple shows here and there. They were good. She was beautiful and commanding stage, but he had always been more interested in Dylan's guitar playing and song writing. He was a genius and Harry couldn't wait to learn more from him. The beautiful lead singer was just a plus.

"Hey Harry!" Harry was shouldering a duffel bag and his guitar as he walked towards the big red tour bus. It would be cramped, it was used and old and everyone would be in there together with the equipment too, but he didn't mind, he was excited to work more closely with Dylan and the others.

"Hey Dylan. Wha's up?" He asked, his accent thick and voice low in the early morning air.

"Can you go with Y/N to the gas station and get provisions? She's got a list of what everyone wants." Harry furrowed his brow slightly.

"She's what? Twenty four? She can' go alone?" Dylan shook his head.

"Listen. Dad is very protective of her. She's the youngest...Someone always goes with her, just to keep an eye and make sure nothing happens, she can get distracted sometimes." Harry smiled softly, he didn't know why he thought that was cute, but he shook the thought out of his head as soon as it came.

"Sure man. I'll take her."

Y/N was funny. Like really funny. This was the first time Harry had ever spent time with her just the two of them. When he had been at rehearsals she had been there of course, but she usually kept to herself or hung out with her mom or sister while the band worked out the kinks in the set list and other things. He realized he had never actually spoken to her before this trip to get snacks.

"Do you like slushies?" Y/N asked him suddenly, interrupting herself as the passed the machine. Harry shook his head.

"Too sugary." Y/N pouted teasingly before grabbing the largest cup and filling it with the Coke slush.

"I love em. When we were kids, in the summer my dad would bring us for hot dogs and slushies, or he would buy us our own two liters of pop. But only if we had helped him with yard work and the like during the day."

"That sounds nice." Harry says with a smile. He pictures little Y/N walking home with her father and siblings large slushie in one hand and a hot dog in the other.

They made their way to the front counter, a basket full of chips and candy, pop, water, and of course the slushie.

"Careful!" Harry said, his hand shooting out to grab Y/N's upper arm as she nearly tripped over the black rug at the front of the store. He pulled her closer to him, chests nearly pressed together as he caught her. "Ya alright?" He asked, voice low as he looked down at her.

He never noticed just how pretty her eyes were, how long her lashes were or the slight flush that always seemed to pepper her cheeks with kisses of pink. They stood like that for a moment, looking at each other with curiosity. Harry felt something shift inside of him, his heart pounding as she pulled away, a grateful smile on her face.

"Thank you."

The first performance had been great. Harry had forgotten how much he loved being on stage, in front of a crowd. It was like a drug, the way people cheered and screamed, singing along. But he couldn't take his eyes off of Y/N.

This was the first time he had actually watched her perform. Before he had only been interested in the band and her brother's sick writing skills. But after the encounter at the gas station, Harry couldn't keep his eyes off her too long and the way she was on stage, he couldn't look away if he wanted to.

Y/N had stamina. She would sing and dance, moving to the rhythm of the beat as the music played and almost never losing her breath. She played the crowd, teasing them and hyping them up. It wasn't a huge venue, but it might as well have been a stadium with how everyone was screaming for her.

"Thank you all for a great show!" She said at the end of the night, a huge smile on her face. God she was....she was a knock out. He couldn't deny that. "I want you all to give it up for our new guitarist Mr. Harry Styles! He joined us recently and picked up quick! Is he not bad ass?!" Harry blushed, smiling shyly as the crowd began to cheer for him. Y/N bowed after a moment, blowing kisses out to the crowd before they all moved back stage. Y/N was grinning ear to ear, adrenaline pumping through her veins.

"Thanks for the shoutout," Harry said as they began to pack up. He looked over his shoulder, hoping no one would see him talking to her, he didn't want anyone getting the wrong impression.

"You were really great." Y/N said, she smiled at him kindly, eyes lingering on his lips for almost a moment too long before she looked away. She shut one of the guitar cases and went to lift it, Harry put his arm out, hands encasing around the handle and lifting it gently.

"I got it love." Y/N felt her heart flutter slightly at the term of endearment.

"Thanks." She said. Harry opened his mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by Dylan, standing in the doorway of the bus.

"C'mon guys! Denny's is still open! Let's go I'm starving." Y/N chuckled, smiling at Harry once more before walking off towards her brother. Harry watched her go, mesmerized by her.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles friends to lovers #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles #hs imagine #hs fandom #hs fanfic #hs2 #hs1 #hs #hstylesedit

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vinylexams · 5 years

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INTERVIEW with Brian Cook of SUMAC, Russian Circles, Botch, These Arms are Snakes, and Roy

Brian Cook of the MANY gnarly bands listed above took time to answer a bunch of questions that had been burning a hole in my mind for years earlier today. Did you know that aside from playing bass in some of the heaviest bands currently in existence, Brian is also an avid record collector and he also runs a very similar page where he posts all of his records and writes up a bit of history and personal context with each one? A man after my own heart! I’ve dropped a link to his Tumblr below and you’d be a fool not to go check it out and follow his work there.

https://bubblesandgutz.tumblr.com⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

I really appreciated having a chance to talk to a very talented musician who also places a LOT of importance on physical medium and the recording process. All too often I get submissions from bands who either don’t know the in’s and out’s of the vinyl format or they took a lot of shortcuts and deprive their art a chance to really shine in the ways that vinyl allows. I picked Brian’s brain about his approach to creation of physical musical media as well as his history as a collector (and even tried to convince him to get These Arms are Snakes play my big gay wedding reception!). Thanks for taking the time to tell your story to us, Brian!

You've been a member of several incredible bands over the past few decades (Botch, Sumac, Russian Circles, These Arms Are Snakes), all of which have released pretty much everything they've recorded on vinyl. How important is the vinyl medium for you as a musician and creator?

Thanks for the kind words. It's really important to me for my music to have some sort of physical format. I realize that mode of thinking might seem sort of old school or outdated, but i've always been enamored by music as a kind of historical artifact. When I was younger, that meant it was important for me to have an actual Dead Kennedys cassette as opposed to a dubbed version from my friend. It was like the difference between owning a painting versus owning a xerox of a painting. When I became a musician, it was a sign of validation. By having a record with my name on it, I had created something that would potentially outlive me. And now in the digital age we've convinced ourselves that everything lives forever on the internet, but it's not true. Myspace just lost all their music. I've written for a lot of online music outlets that have closed shop or simply deleted old posts. Meanwhile, I have a trunk full of old zines that outlived the supposed permanence of blogs. So while the digital age is great for convenience and scope, creating a physical recording is really the more reliable way to make sure something exists for more than five to ten years, or however long it takes for the newest technological fad to become obsolete. Vinyl seems to be the longest lasting format, so it's my preferred medium. But if my music exists on tape or CD, that's fine too.

Do you approach your recording and production processes with specific formats like vinyl in mind? If so, what do you do differently? Absolutely. The main concern is that we're dealing with the time constraints of vinyl. For bands like Russian Circles and SUMAC who have really long songs, it means we have to be careful how we sequence our records because we can easily exceed the 22-minutes-per-side rule. We've also been told by pressing plants that it's better to have long drones in the middle of an album side than at the beginning or end because there tends to be more surface noise at the beginning of a side and more warble at the end, and drones don't do much to mask these imperfections. But while one can complain about the limitations of vinyl, there are also issues with digital formats that can alter the way an album is put together. For example, the digital version of Empros has a longer drone at the end of "Batu" than the LP version, partially because of vinyl's limitations, but also because digital outlets like iTunes don't recognize records with long songs as full albums unless at least one track is longer than ten minutes. So we stretched it out on the digital version so that we'd be compensated appropriately for our work, but condensed it on vinyl so that we didn't compromise the sound quality.

Of all of the albums you've contributed to, which one stands out to you as the one you feel most connected to?

Probably Geneva by Russian Circles, if I had to pick one. We wrote that record over the span of several months at a house in rural Wisconsin. It was one of those ideal scenarios I'd always dreamed of---hunkering down in some isolated retreat and just immersing ourselves in the writing process. I've never walked away from an album feeling as accomplished as I did with that one. It just felt like we'd achieved something that had previously been out of my level of expertise. I think we've made better records since then, but I don't think I've ever felt as successful in making the sounds in my head translate to the recording. With regards to my other bands, I feel that way about Botch's We Are The Romans, These Arms Are Snakes' Easter, Roy's Killed John Train, and SUMAC's What One Becomes. But Geneva will always hold a special place.

How did you get into vinyl collecting and how does it play a part in your life?

I started buying vinyl around '92 because it was cheap. My first LP was Shadowy Men on a Shadowy Planet's Savvy Show Stoppers. I bought it for $2. Then I discovered 7"s, which was the dominant format for hardcore and punk bands at the time. Throughout high school, I mainly bought 7"s because i could buy 3 or 4 a week on my allowance. And let's be honest... most hardcore bands in the '90s had better 7"s than full albums. But vinyl was so dead at the time that you could also go to thrift stores and scoop up the entire Creedence Clearwater Revival discography for the cost of one CD. Even new vinyl was cheaper than their CD counterpart back then. So it's a bit of a drag now considering that vinyl is currently the most expensive format, but I still get a thrill from going to record stores, digging through crates, and coming home with a new LP. I can't say I buy that many 7"s anymore though.

What do you think about the relatively recent resurgence of large-scale vinyl production and collection?

It certainly has its advantages and disadvantages. I buy a lot of reissues just so I can have a clean, good-sounding copy, so I appreciate the resurgence in that regard. At the same time, the vinyl boom has made used record shopping a bit more of a drag. I don't know how many copies of Neil Young's Harvest I saw in used bins throughout the '90s and '00s, and then when I finally decided to buy a copy five years ago, it seemed like they'd all been snagged and the reissue was going for $50. When the Zeppelin discography got reissued a few years back, I mentioned wanting a new copy of Physical Graffiti to my husband. He went to our local indie record store in Brooklyn and asked the owner if they carried it and he totally balked at the question. "Why would we carry a reissue when you can buy a used copy of that in any record store for $5?" he said. My husband was like "every used Zeppelin record you carry is beat to shit and goes for at least $20... what the fuck are you even talking about?"

If you had to pare down your entire collection to no more than three albums, which would you keep?

What's the broader context? Like, are those the only three records I can listen to for the rest of my life? Or is it just a matter of only being allowed to own three records? If it's the former, I'd probably choose Bob Dylan's Blood on the Tracks, Miles Davis' In a Silent Way, and a Can album... either Ege Bamyasi or Soon Over Babaluma. Ask me tomorrow and I'd probably list off a different three. If it's the latter... like, if i'm merely holding onto records because the actual artifact means a lot to me but I can still listen to music in some other capacity, then I'd probably go with the His Hero Is Gone / Union of Uranus split LP, Undertow's At Both Ends, and Sticks & Stones Theme Songs For Nothing, just because those seem like a pain in the ass to replace and they're important records to me. I have records that are worth way more money, but I'm not someone who buys records because they're valuable.

Do you have a "white whale" record you still haven't found?

Not really. For ages I resisted the urge to buy used records online, but I've since relented. The record that finally broke my ordering embargo was Hack's The Rotten World Around Us. They were a band from Adelaide, South Australia in the late '80/ early '90s who sounded like a grungier version of the first couple Swans records. Super heavy and scary. I got turned onto them through a 7" on Alternative Tentacles, but the LP was never available stateside. The first few times I toured Australia i went to every record store I could find in hopes of finding a copy. No one had ever heard of Hack. The singer was in another band called Grong Grong, and members of that band had gone on to be in King Snake Roost, Lubricated Goat, and Tumor Circus (with Jello Biafra on vocals), but no one had heard of them either. In my mind there was this rich underground of Australian noise rock from that time period that was still vital and valid, but the reality is that it was largely ignored and forgotten. I eventually found a copy online and bought it for $20. A year later i found a used copy in Boise. Oh well. I'd love to find Acme's To Reduce The Choir..., or an original copy of Popol Vuh's second album, or the Neu! 7", or the Greenlandic prog band Sume's Sumut album.

Hypothetically how much money would I need to raise to get These Arms Are Snakes to reunite to play my wedding reception? My family will hate it but my partner and I will be very happy, etc.

We still talk about doing some proper "farewell shows" since we bailed on doing them back in 2009/2010. Granted, now they'd be reunion shows, but in our hearts they'd be our proper goodbye. We're putting together a vinyl release of various odds and ends for next year, so maybe that'll give us an excuse to finally book something.

#vinylexams #vinyl #vinyljunkie #onmyturntable #nowspinning #sumac #botch #thesearmsaresnakes #seattle #taas #roy #russiancircles #briancook

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doomedandstoned · 5 years

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Meet Corey G. Lewis, The Dude Who’s Bringing Grunge Back

~By Jamie LaRose~

Art by Ben House

With the new album sinking into our consciousness, 'Deathspiration' (2018) by The Misery Men invokes the necessity to dig a bit deeper into the creative processes behind its craft. I had the chance to follow-up with Corey G. Lewis, mastermind of the music, and take a glimpse at the band's evolution as portrayed by sound. Deathspiration was recorded and mixed by Steve Jones of Ancient Warlocks at Big Sound Productions in Seattle, and features Jones as drummer.

Deathspiration by The Misery Men

The intro track is reminiscent of reflections, leading into a blasting presence of a second track. This album seems to tell a diverse story, can you explain some of the inspiration behind Deathspiration?

Well the intro track is sort of an homage to Neil Young’s Dead Man soundtrack. I’m also really into Dylan Carlson and EARTH. Before I discovered Earth, I’d always described The Misery Men as, Western Doom Noir. That’s evolved into me describing it as Stone Drone. Nevertheless it’s reminiscent of the space between the notes, and the chaos that occurs. The song Sughrue is about C.W. Sughrue, a character from the book Last Good Kiss by the late great James Crumley, also an old friend. Sughrue is a Private Dick that goes off looking for missing woman. “Like a train” barreling down the highway, from Montana to Mexico.

Oh, most importantly, the inspiration behind Deathspiration is the evolution of me as a human. The cathartic shedding of skin. "Harnessing the Darkness" and riding the waves. Sometimes I feel we might be desperate to reach death, to know the truths, while we attempt to be inspired to live life, as we pass through all the adversity, and perspiring blood, sweat, and tears in these moments of our existence.

Deathspiration by The Misery Men

Do you have any secrets of sound to share? What types of techniques present The Misery Men persona?

My secret sound really is simplicity, and the ghost of Leo Fender haunting my amp. I run a 70’s Music Man 112 RP 65-watt amp with an EV bass speaker, through a 2x12 THD Cab, with a phaser pedal, and a Little Big Muff. A wall of fuzz, that is grizzly, meaty, and punchy. I don’t really try to be the tone guy, but I get more compliments about my tone than anything else.

Deathspiration by The Misery Men

"Night Creeps In" presents itself to me as the vertex of the Deathspiration story, it feels ritualistic and defining. Are there any rituals you perform while in the writing process?

This song in particular was written after a girl I was dating for only a week, told me she was going to kill herself. It was pretty heavy, and at the time she texted me, I was walking past Lone Fir Cemetery and wrote her, “sometimes the night creeps in, looking wretched weak and thin. Smiling with its meathook grin.” It was a very heavy experience. When I wrote this song about seven years ago, I was just really getting deep into Dax Riggs of Acid Bath. He’s definitely had a big impact on my music writing since moving to Portland.

Deathspiration by The Misery Men

Aside from the release of Deathspiration, are there any other exciting current happenings with The Misery Men?

We played at Dante’s not long ago with Chris Newman Deluxe Combo. Chris is quintessential to the Portland rock scene and to the whole Pacific Northwest in general. He is famous for his band Napalm Beach, who released their first album in 1981. Without Napalm Beach, The Wipers, and Dead Moon, well Seattle “Grunge” just wouldn’t sound the same. We might all still be playing Hair Metal!

Officially, Deathspiration has been out since last December, but this week it will launch on all digital platforms worldwide. This fall around September or October, expect a new two-part album to drop digitally, recorded by Witch Mountain and The Skull’s own Rob Wrong! It’ll feature 3-4 different local bass players and a couple local drummers, all guitars and vocals have been recorded, and bass/drums will be done by July/August. So far, we've got interest from bass players Billy Anderson (yes, the famous Sleep producer), Matt Howl (Mammoth Salmon), Wayne Boucher (Troll), and Jaden Mcginiss (Legendary Peavy owner, Doorman, Boudicca). All of this will be recorded in Rob’s basement, the same basement Elliott Smith practiced in.

I decided that my second album needed to be done sooner than later, after the 1st was seven years in the making. Deathspiration was recorded in Seattle with Ancient Warlocks drummer Steve Jones, I’m very happy with the way it turned out, it was analog with no filters, no frills, just my raw intensity. The second though I feel needs to be done here in Portland, it is after all according to Greg Sage, DoomTown. Unlike the first one, it’ll be all digital, but still raw and real, capturing my live performance sound. I’m also likely going to have a variety of drummers on the album playing different songs, perhaps even some legendary Portland drummers!

This week I begin practicing with a new drummer for two upcoming gigs. On Saturday, July 6th, we'll be playing with Chronoclops and Stereo Creeps from Seattle at Misdemeanor Meadows in Portland. It's a free show. Then on Friday, July 26th, The Misery Men will be rocking Gil's Speakeasy for a $5 show that includes The Sleer and Breath. I'm Working on gigs for August on through the Fall.

Do you have any memories of childhood that are notably similar to your current state of mind? What type of things about your childhood self were spot-on about who you become? What was your favorite toy?

I knew I’d always wanted to be a Rock n’ Roller or an actor in films. Like pretty much as long as I could remember. I dressed up almost every Halloween as a Punk Rocker in the '80s. My first concert of grand scale was Poison and Warrant 1989, in Bozeman, Montana -- I was in 5th grade. That show changed my life. I also dug rocks in my grandparent’s backyard, but not for pleasure -- my grandfather took advantage of child labor! I’m a rocker through and through. I think I’ve followed my dreams pretty spot on.

Favorite toys were probably GI Joe’s, Star Wars, or my SEGA Genesis. I also built wood swords from fence posts and painted them with finger nail polish as a kid. Think I may have accidentally got high!

What was the moment when you could feel music has become a part of your life? How has writing music helped you, and those around you?

Well, ever since I could remember music was a part of my life. Listening to my mom’s old tapes and records as a kid really impacted me. I was always surrounded by music, my grandparents owned a Rock n’ Roll bar I’m the ‘60s, '70s, and '80s, called The Wrangler Bar in Livingston, MT. It’s featured in the film Rancho Deluxe about some wild young cattle rustlers, starring Jeff Bridges, and Sam Waterson. There’s a scene with Jimmy Buffett playing "Livingston Saturday Night" while Jeff and Sam play Pong. I’ve played that same machine as a kid! There was always a jukebox, I loved playing Jefferson Starship's "We Built This City," Joan Jett's "I Love Rock n’ Roll," Ozzy's "Bark at the Moon," Pat Benatar's "Hit Me With Your Best Shot" and "Hell Is For Children," and Billy Squire's "The Stroke"!

In 7th and 8th grades, I really was into The Doors, The Beatles, Hendrix, and I was in a English class for kids who couldn’t really focus on reading Lord Of The Rings. In this class our teacher would have us listen to our favorite music at home, then with the feelings we got, write our own poetry. I often listened to Hendrix, especially Axis: Bold As Love and Electric LadyLand, so there were plenty of references to fantasy in my early lyrics. This really helped me learn to become a lyricist, and take an interest in poetry. Most importantly, it gave me an outlet. Around the same time, I got heavy into Henry Rollins. When I saw the video for "Liar" with Hank all painted red, I thought, “I wanna be that guy!” I bought Get in The Van and it became my Bible. All the while I was into Nirvana, Alice In Chains, and Soundgarden.

Is there a way to describe when you feel most productive or most relaxed? How is your state of mind best explained while writing music?

I’m most productive when I feel inspired. Or when the Sun is out and I’m well rested. I like the Sun, except in extreme heat, then I wanna murder the Sun. I was born at night, so I’m a Moon child. I definitely get more inspired and productive writing at night. A few years ago when I was reworking an old song that turned out to be Harness The Darkness, I took a wee bit of LSD or mushrooms -- I’m more of a microdose kind of guy -- found myself going down some deep wormholes to connect a lot of dots that would go on to make up the six verses of the song, that I eventually dropped into four, because it was the most exhausting song to play! I’m a Beatnik kid. I got into the Beat style of writing early on. So, letting the stream of consciousness come flowing out seems to work well for me. I can keep a pretty decent rhyme or off rhyme too.

What is the most peculiar thing that anyone has ever said to you?

Hmmmm. Can you keep a secret? From experience, always tell them no, because sometimes people will lay some heavy shit on you, and maybe you didn’t want to be that person to carry their burden. I’m not a Priest, or a therapist, sometimes it’s fine to listen to friends, but there’s some things you can’t unhear or unsee!

Do you have a message for the universe?

I call it the "Megaverse," as coined by quantum physicist Leonard Susskind -- but my message is to be real, be compassionate, be loving, be forgiving, be understanding, be courageous, be ever evolving, and in the words of E.T.: “Beeeeee Gooooooddd.”

The Great Misery Men Giveaway!

Don't miss your chance to add the gritty album Deathspiration to your library! Grab one of the Bandcamp codes below (first come, first served) and redeem it right here.

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#D&S Interviews #The Misery Men #Corey G. Lewis #Portland #Oregon #Doom #Grunge #Metal #Jamie LaRose #Stoner Art #Ben House #Week of Wonders #Doomed & Stoned

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johnwarwickartist-blog · 5 years

Text

Beginning’s,Lessons and Learning.

So, people, many find different ways to learn,

So why do we only teach one way?

Hope this help, maybe you do understand it, perhaps you will not.

They are So many Different ways to learn, So why do we teach

the same way?

In most places around the world, As you grow up, you will have to attend

a school of some sort.

It’s is essential to understand the Language of your region or country,

Mathematics and a bit of Science.

It will help you to know how to Communicate will others, working with

Money to buy, save and work out the bill, and science for everyday things.

The whole school structure to me is a graded system for the workforce.

In my case, Because I live in the United Kingdom, I’ll explain this system.

When I was growing up, I hardly read and barely did any write,

but somehow I got to Secondary school, and this was when it got hard for me, more reading and writing.

I didn’t understand why so many others find it easy and I struggled.

I remember an Incident in school when my English teacher gave the class an assignment to write a letter to a travel company and to make a complaint about the holiday you when on and it didn’t live up to what the travel ad said.

I remember working hard to do this letter, spending hours, trying to Prove to myself that I was not an Idiot and I could do this.

I handed in my work, thinking I had done so well, only to be pulled aside by my teacher to have a chat about my work, My teacher re-corrected my mistake and Some of the grammar.

The teacher ended up writing a new letter and told me to copy it.

But I tried to understand, and find out what I did wrong so it wouldn't happen again, I was told to not worry about it.

When I left school, I had taken nine subjects, and Only two of them

I felt happy about, C grade in art and D grade in mathematics.

The rest of my graded varied between E to G and one “U” Which came in English, as ungraded.

After school, about two weeks later, I find a job working in a shopping store

On the Produce department(fruit and veg).As the years have gone by, the type of posts I have had are general labour job, nothing special.

But still want to understand how to write, I spend so many hours writing stuff out, Copy things, trying to read a newspaper, And after many years I started to get better at it.

But at that time I was young, earn money and get in a girlfriend, was more important, after a 3 and half year relationship and the birth of my son.

My girlfriend and I split up, and I sank Into a Depression, it wasn’t to my late 20s, that went I Discovered that I might be dyslexic, I did understand what it meant, I just thought I was an idiot again.

Its why I was having so many problems, After a Conversation with my sister, she Explains to me, that she had suffered as well, told me different ways that she had learned herself.

But again at this time, I was still in a depressed state, and not paying attention.

But my breakthrough came when I find music.

I started to learn how to be a drummer, after six months I give it up because living in a flat, Neighbours would shortly complain.

Determined not to give up, I started playing the guitar in February 2004,

I began to teach myself through books or videos by just skimming the part that I like and within six months people where shock at the rate I was learning, a guitarist friend told me, that what I’ve learned in 6 months had taken Him three years.

I couldn't understand what was different and sometime it would upset me that I was doing better than someone else.

But in Oct 2004 I wrote my first song, it was called “Pussy whip blues” it was terrible, but I had made a song.

The joy of writing then lead to adventure for the next 15 years, in that 15 years, I would self study how people would write songs, like the Beatles, Bob Dylan, Bob Marley, Led Zeppelin,etc..... different styles, pop, rock, punk, soul, reggae, etc ..... it was all just fascinating to me.

Learning the structure of songs, breaking them down and rebuild them

and making new songs.

Chords because like colours, putting them together, so it sounded right

to me and words where the heartbeats to a song.

I would listen and listen to music every day for hours.

I don't care about money or fame, I was in love with music.

If you love something with your heart, just keep doing it.

But after about 13 years in, sometimes stop because of self-doubt and then restart again, I decided I would go to a songwriting camp.

I sign up for five days songwriting retreat at box hill, when I got there, we were in groups of 4.

It was my first time work in a group, so we started, but it didn’t turn out too well, two of the people in my group, won’t stop arguing there point, as I step back, and tried to understand and communicate between them, it starts to work, but I didn’t really get any input into the project.

It’s frustrated me how people will act, and show off.

After the second day, I contemplate if I should leave the writing camp and go home.

But I decided not to, and I’m happy I didn’t.

The next task was to get a title from another member, you get the title and write lyrics and then give the words to another member who would add music.

The title I was given was “friendly fire”, so instead of writing about crossfire, or war.

I wrote a song about a soldier who kills another soldier and was afraid to tell the parents of the murdered child, what they had done.

So I handed the lyrics to a girl who had to perform it, at the time, she was worried what chords to add and ask me what I would do, I told her it was an emotional song, somber and minor chords would work well.

On the night of the open mic, we had to perform, I had also added chords to an old gentlemen songs, it’s was the first time I had to play live, and I bomb it, making seven mistakes, coming off stage I fought like an idiot again.

But when she got up and sung "friendly fire", my world changed.

After the performance, People chapped, and then the question came.

Who wrote that?

Who lyrics are they?

Very emotional?

How did you come up with the idea?

In an instant people won’t leave me alone, they wanted to know what else I wrote and how I have done it.

It was hard to explain, but some way I had emotionally learn how to write my feeling in songs, through music and words.

I remembered in the past going through depression, I would sit for 2 hours making melodies, that would make me happy, I wanted to make songs.

I never want to do cover songs, and I wanted to write my own songs.

I learn everything with my mind by studying and conveyed it through my heart.

So understand, we all work; differently, It does matter if you have a condition or problems, don’t be your problem.

Use your heart as you guide and anything is possible.

But sometimes I think if at school they had a different approach to me and some of the other kids my life could be different.

what I want through my talent.

But you must look forward, becomes you only have now, the past has gone, your future is unmade.

I will explain later on about ways I've learned,

to read, write, poet, music and a love of art in many forms.

Sometimes I tell how I see the world, ways I was feeling

about depression and suicidal feeling.

because I'm 42 now, and I'm starting to do it.

#artists on tumblr #musicians #writers #my life #experience #lessons

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mattyslittleworld · 3 years

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dead mans coffee

July / 2020

Just woke up in my front seat, at a rest stop in Tennessee. First thing I saw was my ALL WILL SUFFER tattoo on my leg. A constant reminder of a different person. Tomorrow I’m getting coffee with Skrillex’s right hand man in Nashville, and I’m nursing a cold coffee in the heat watching this crazy lightning shoot across the skyline. It looks like the end of the world. Or some fucked up Lucero song. I must’ve pulled over for a second and closed my eyes and just dropped dead for hours while parked, I’m on the way to my hotel.

I am sitting in a diner on broadway in Nashville, TN. Nursing another shitty coffee booking meetings. As the texts come in I ignore them because they are covering the screen and distracting me from reading and studying how to properly sell my soul to the devil at the crossroads In Mississippi.

Clarksdale, Mississippi

12:30 am

Where Robert Johnson, Bob Dylan, and now, Matty Carlock, sold their souls to the devil.

December / 2020

Sitting in my home, in Hollywood, CA. I have the window open, and I hear the subtle sound of LA breathing, cars passing on the boulevard, sirens off in the distance, and a vinyl record of mine spinning at the lowest volume possible for me to still hear yet ignore it. I feel calm and at peace, although, it seems like a parallel feeling is war, confusion, imposter syndrome, abandonment, and skeptical. How could these two umbrellas of emotion coexist? Its very interesting. Ive been recording so much music that has nothing to do with my artist project. Its been liberating to put that aside for something greater. A new focus. Leaving artistry a vessel solely for extreme self expression and cathartic release.

July / 2020

Winding the day down, 10:30pm. With an open tab that reads “Tigers Jaw holiday show” - on pause. I open my Mac book on my couch, ready to go through stems and ratchet strip club beats, and it catches my eye. I press play and it leads me down a rabbit hole. I find myself watching “Never Saw It Coming” right into “Chemicals” / live in Boston. Like lightning it struck through my entire body. Maybe it was the 2 hour long conversation with Andy? And the memories we were trading. The bond we have over hard times, innocence, violence, literal blood on the pavement, years of freezing in the winter....nowhere to go. The people that were around - we made forever memories to these two songs. I right away, made a playlist that consists of “The Sun, I Saw Water, Chemicals, Never Saw It Coming, and Planes”. On top of that I found the live acoustic set they recorded and put out. When I was young on DIY tours, sleeping on floors, dirty as shit, poor as shit, a human being at the very best.....the uncertainty of my near future was so bleak. I remember Title Fight came out with their record “Shed” - and the song “where am I?” would lay me down on long drives, or on the floor. I’d watch white lines pass one by one by one into the abyss of nothing.

The line

“Another floor

A different ceiling than the night before

Where am I?

While you’re back home”

Missing my girlfriend at that current time, leaving, and just laying on a strangers floor thinking where am I while you’re back home? What am I doing? Maybe there’s nothing only this moment?

On the tigers jaw live EP they covered this acoustic and it’s everything right now. I am fortunate to live a block away from the sunset strip - and I grabbed my skateboard and just bolted into the night.

This SO SPECIFIC FEELING of these songs. That nobody in this environment will ever understand. It’s so beautiful. It’s so real. It’s so raw. It’s exactly what I need right now - as the past 3 weeks I’ve been living here have moved faster than the past 4 years. A loss of identity easily awaits you. It’s like you fight your whole life for that moment, to get to where you dream of, to get a shot. Scrape and crawl. And then reset. Since I’ve been living in Hollywood my day to day has been a huge mirror for me. The parts of myself I’ve been trying out run have caught me. Maybe all of this could coexist?

March 2nd / 2021

Spring is here. Its 75 degrees in LA and theres this new thing I noticed while driving around…..the overbearing smell of flowers in the air. It sounds like a movie. Its fucked up cause It felt like a funeral in my car. I was like what the fuck is happening? It smells like a small funeral in here….are my dreams dying? Am I dying? Is punk dead? Okay its just a Ryan gosling movie out here I guess. Whatever lets go. Here’s some hatrebreed. But the windows are down. My mood is different. My spirit is lifted, which ive been desperate to say. I automatically get punched in the guts with the feeling of driving so fucking fast, and blasting title fight. Skateboarding. Looooooooooong drives with fucked up friends to out of state shows no one will be at. Im listening to Stab by Title Fight - off the Shed LP. What a specific time in my life this brings back. That I usually talk about on this little throw up blog often. Spring is such a pivotal time in my life every year. Since covid shows stopped - human decency stopped - community stopped - my natural habitat was taken from me, and all of my friends and family. I remember living in New York in 2011. At the New Yorker. I was studying at the Institute Of Audio Research to be a janitor in my home town. Because that’s what they teach you. Instead of studying compression, and listening to washed up hacks talk to me about music, I would walk out my building onto 8th ave. B Line it Penn Station. Get on the LIRR and ride that shit right into the best LI shows every night I could. Id meet all my friends from Jersey / NYC / Philly and even Baltimore because it was so common to make it a priority to no matter what, drive hours on end to support a hardcore shows and to not lose touch with the hundreds around the country that you call family. Drive to Richmond for a shows on a Monday night, go off, hit a diner after with your new found tribe, then drive home, be back at 6 am, and just stumble into your bullshit job with a black eye or scratches all over you. It was all worth it. Probably quit that job anyway to go on tour with your friends band and live as gypsies for the entire summer too. Spring embodies this spirit for me. Church parking lots in Doylestown, PA - full of kids from all over the country, who left their problems in their hometown, to just get on the road with their best friends and basically start a new life. It is just amazing how formative those years were for a lot of my friends. I have people I met at shows from all over the country messaging me always checking in, and supporting, and sometimes it feels like I know them better than my first cousins, aunts and uncles. We were at war together. We fought against the world together. We found ourselves together. We created shit from nothing. Determination and passion. Oh no….Planes by Tigers Jaw just came on. You know the vibe. This shit just hits so different now as a pop / hip hop producer. This PA scene, mixed with NJHC, just stood me up and gave me confidence to have my own voice, my own thoughts, and to fight back. Something about being in a shitty car and it smells like dirty vans and like…..axe to cover up the smell. BELTING Basement and car moshing and almost driving off a bridge. Listen. I know every single blog is about this. But fuck you fight me. ITS CALLED SELF EXPRESSION GRANDMA. SO STRAP INTO YOUR BOOT THINGS AND ENJOY THE RIDE TO NOWHERE. Its been crazy living in LA. I live directly on Hollywood BLVD, on the Walk Of Fame. Where I was almost killed two weeks ago over someones gang that my ass is not in. My guy looked at me and said YO YOU MATTY? And I was listening to Taylor swift in my headphones walking back from Starbucks and it was so funny how different my energy was. I was like bro can you kill me already dude because these Taylor tones are so good that they gunna just end up killing me anyway. So perfect timing. I think the guy was mad at my friend to say the least lol. But every night its loud 808’s, the sounds of the city, amazing energy, and neon lights shining in from lit up billboards off the BLVD. Its such a culture shock for me. I feel like im too aggressive just from being east coast. But its just what it is. It took me a little to adapt to being in sessions and meetings with seasoned people in this industry who have major cuts and recognition. But I just learned to double down on myself, and be as authentic as I possibly can be. Theres nothing like crushing writing sessions in the pop realm, then turning off my shit, unplugging, and run into the night with my skateboard and old punk records. It’s almost like my own secret that is becoming my blood. I haven’t been communicating with the ones who like my music, have interest in what im doing, come to my shows etc - since I touched down here….I just unplugged….started writing HEAVY and decided to dedicate months to getting better, learning, becoming smarter, discovering a vision that’s much broader than what were sold, finding myself, making sure my wisdom is parallel to my age - if not wise beyond my years. A lot of artists and bands SING, PLAY, PERFORM, PROMOTE. But I have decided to WATCH, ATTEND, and LISTEN. Everynight I sit down with tea, unplug, and spin records on my turntable…in the dark, in my living room, alone….all kinds of records. From The National, to Springsteen, to Title Fight, to Hendrix, to the rare Troublemaker LP and 7” I have…..Sharon Van Etten, Jesse Malin…..ugh. Its just bliss. Pure bliss. Right now im drinking coffee and bouncing from listening to Into It Over It and American Football. I spent all last night rapping my ass off, mixing, and singing ref vocals for other people. It was so fun. Im finding a lot of my new material is this spirit im talking about - but over hip hop production. I want to tell my life story and combat the stereotypes of modern rap and pop music with true intentions and unique tones of untold stories that press, radio, and this market usually doesn’t get fed. Ive also realized a lot of music I was promoting over the past year to come out (prior to the pandemic) hasn’t come out….and I know people are questioning that….what is happening? So before covid I had German solo dates booked - and then I was going to the UK right after. I have a bunch of single drops lined up with music videos. Some you can guess with who. And then the pandemic hit and I canceled everything and decided to pivot my focus into my passion for songwriting and production, instead of sitting around “waiting for shows to come back.” I pretended that shows were never going to come back and doubled down on my career as a producer, that at the time, still is, moving forward at a faster rate than my artist shit. So I packed my shit after offers, and opportunity presented themselves. Touched down on a Tuesday, with meetings that Friday. Off to the races. In sessions that following Monday. Fast forward here we are. Hungry, learning, learnt, turned 30. Looking at the next decade like Mcgregor at the weigh in. Fight ready. Ive learned so much since the fall that all of the music I had planned on releasing, I loaded it back up, tore it apart, and re built it. So its not stale, so its not expired, so its not “then”….so its NOW. Which im so glad I did, and im doing. I don’t think ive been in the booth more. My mind is so stimulated by this wave im on. And its got me in a good place. Now that the spirit of spring is here, my mental health is going to be taking a big leap as well and im going to do everything I can to just flood all of this content. I think Never Meant by American Football is the best song ever made. Me and Mike were talking about doing a song together a few months ago and that would be such a trip for me.

I wanted to talk about my recent trip to Joshua Tree. I was invited by Christopher Thorn from Blind Melon to live at his studio for a few days to write together. I didn’t really know what to expect. I met him once or twice thru Clinch, and just around the Sea Hear Now circle back east, and I was familiar with No Rain (his hit). We got on the phone, picked a weekend where it’d work for both of us, got some covid tests, and boom. Packed my shit again (right off a flight back from New York, where I shot 3 music videos, and did 1 remote session in 2 fucking days), and drove out to the desert. There is no address so I had a map. It was epic. It was in the desert desert. Like THE DESERT FAM. Coyotes at night, snakes and shit. The air was so dry, your lips would get chapped to let you know death was right around the corner so you better man up baby boy. Beforehand - from all the traveling and flights, and burning myself out on videos and sessions, I found myself listening to a lot of acoustic Nebraska Springsteen type shit. John Moreland, or even like acoustic bayside, Lucero, Leonard Cohen, Tom Waits…..just pure music with no samples, not gridded, not sold, no machine, no click, just real live country music inspired by the human condition….of the earth. It was just speaking to my soul…..so when we booked this to get in the room together….man was I ready. I don’t think ive had an experience so fruitful to the soul. And ive played shows in Slovenia, and sipped espresso on a bridge that looked like a painting, staring at subtle mountain tops off in the distance like I was a character in some book. We started working at night and ran it up till like 3 am. As the sun came down the lights off in the distance miles and miles away were so clear because we were just the only life form around….and it would just shine into the studio windows and reflect on the perimeter making it seem like we were surrounded by New York City. It did a lot for my soul to play drums, acoustic, sing, play piano, shred electric, even mix a little. I felt like I made a very fast lifelong friend. Its been a minute since I got on with someone like that. We talked a lot about growing up touring. And wed finish each others sentences regarding topics that ONLY people like us would know. Like Subway being a life line for DIY touring, or the weird strange feelings of comfort from rest stops in the middle of nowhere at 4 am, the rest stop coffee that you get to just make the next 2 hours of the drive into town bearable. But then you see your boy from your band in the other aisle so you throw shit at him. Then you all stumble back into the van/bus and just disappear into the night. This shit was so needed for me. When Id wake up, id make espresso, and just sit out front and listen to Joe Rogan, at this random chair that was behind his studio, facing the mountains. Just endless property waiting to leave you 6 feet in the ground. I sat there and sipped my espresso, and just reflected on the long journey of my career. How many random moments like this ive found myself in since I was 15. In the middle of the desert where Springsteen hangs out with my heroes, off the strength of my songwriting. Or in Romania drinking coffee, fucked off, on a bench far from the venue, by random train lines in the pouring rain by myself. The farthest from humanity I can be. Or the random VFW hall in my head that I don’t even know where it is, with my little punk crew, who all smell like complete shit and cigarettes and soda, fucked off god knows where, just to finger point and sing along to this band we found on myspace that were in OUR hometown the weekend prior singing to our band. Theres just an endless string of memories that can go on forever, with stories that just fulfill a lifetime, of conversations that just make the white lines on I95 move faster. Or just everyone is quiet - reading a book - texting - exhausted from the night prior - and you just ABRUPTLY turn on teenage dream by Katy Perry SOOOO LOUD - take your shirt off and start dropping it like its hot from the passenger front seat, and catch a mid afternoon front flip stage dive into the backseat. From those youthful days of this underground spirit, to existing in a realm of pure monsters of my craft, I truly believe this next decade could co exist and be one for the books. Damn I feel good. Also me and Sasso started a book club called BSU and you can’t be in it because you probably read books and the only rule for our book club besides not speaking about book club is, you can’t read books. Okay im going to go buy a bike right now so I can ride It to Mexico and get abducted by the cartel and sold for bitcoin. FAREWELL EARTHLINGZ.

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nexhqs · 4 years

Photo

INTRODUCING HAYDEN GARCIA …

NICKNAMES : N/A

GENDER : Cis woman, she/her

OCCUPATION : High school student

DATE OF BIRTH : 01/25/02

SPECIES : Human

FACE CLAIM : Isabela Merced

❝ I sometimes wonder if things only get better for them to get worse again. ❞

PERSONALITY

AESTHETIC — Polaroid pictures, newspaper clippings, cutting fences with wirecutters, tearstained pillow, dark skies over stormy seas, disdain for suburbia, television static, vintage movie posters, big sweaters, denim jackets, wearing headphones all the time, a frozen lake in the middle of winter, birds on a telephone wire, scribbled notes at 2am, soda in glass bottles, flannel shirts, Halloween, classic film, the crunch of dead autumn leaves, sitting on your roof and watching the sky.

LIKES: Horror movies, conspiracy theories, writing, taking photographs, crisp fall mornings, rock music, Shakespeare, polaroids, pepperoni pizza, writing in leather bound journals, New York City, the library, the silence of nighttime, bowling.

DISLIKES: Bubblegum flavored anything, math class, summer, being around other people, school, mushrooms, orange soda, her parents, looking for the silver lining in anything, Eden, chick-flicks, mismatched socks, football.

BIOGRAPHY –

content warnings for suicide.

It wasn’t the biggest house, but it was the one at the end loop of the cul-de-sac, and that mattered.

Her life was painted over with the pretty brush of the privilege of suburbia, but the coat of color and sheen was always thin enough that it wasn’t quite as bright as other people’s. Hayden never minded — God forbid they have vacations every summer instead of over spring breaks too, and only the second most recent phone model rested in the pocket of the second most expensive jacket. Her mother’s side had resided in Eden since the founding of the town, name printed carefully in town charters. Her father was the opposite; never setting foot in South Carolina until college, New England born and bred to second generation immigrants. They were both smart, and hardworking, and they both landed good jobs and bought that house on the end of the cul-de-sac in her mother’s hometown. I used to want that house, her mother said, pointing to the blue one next door. But it wasn’t for sale, and theirs was, so there they were. Good but never good enough: that seemed to be the family motto.

Hayden fit it well. Kacey, six years her senior and infinitely more like her parents in terms of ambition, never did. Hayden fit her parents less than she knew. Less than her father even knew: maternal lineage, found in Kasey and her mother, dating back decades upon decades. They were witches. Secret was kept from Hayden when she never showed any signs of the power being passed through her, but her sister was powerful: she started young, and her mother coached her into keeping the blood that ran through them silent and spells well known. It wasn’t unheard of for the genes to skip someone, there had been rogue sisters and cousins over the years that were not witches and died without knowing of their lack of powers. Kasey wasn’t just special, wasn’t just a witch: she was smart and she was funny — she was wild, and difficult for them to reign in, but on good days it didn’t matter.

There weren’t very many good days near the end.

Hayden would sit at the top of the stairs, listening to fights between their parents of Kasey being too angry, too loud, too depressed, too quiet. She retreated, she was cruel to family, she spent all her time in her room with the door locked or out without telling them where she was.

And then Hayden found her, dead on the bathroom floor. An empty pill bottle next to her rolling around on tile, hair floating in a pool of vomit and foam at the mouth. Hayden screamed and cried for twenty minutes outside the door until her mother came home and witnessed the scene, calling 911 and launching an investigation into the death of Kasey Garcia.

The police report: suicide, formed by a severe depression her parents ignored.

The reality: suicide, because of a dabbling in dark magic: increased recklessness, spells mumbled that had long been forbidden. It brought a cloud over Kasey, and she killed herself in a very human way.

After that, things changed for Hayden. She quit her middle school track team, and didn’t show up for weeks to school. Rumors spread around the halls, and they didn’t stop when she came back. In high school, maybe your sister killing herself would garner sympathy, in elementary school, no one would know aside from a teary eyed PG explanation from parents. But it painted an invisible target on Hayden’s back: are you gonna do that too? Why’d she do it? My sister told me your sister was a freak anyway, so I think …

Once the target faded, Hayden painted it herself. She retreated from people, ignored her friends until she had none. Her grades didn’t suffer, and her curiosity was piqued more. How could she not have know about what happened with her sister? Photographs snapped of things that didn’t belong to her, sneaking into places she wasn’t allowed. In the absence of human connection, a connection to the unknown formed. Placement in mandatory therapy didn’t phase her anyway — she read her own file anyway, it was easy to pick the file cabinet. She found out things she didn’t want to know, not really: her father’s infidelity, what exactly her parents and therapist thought was wrong with her.

So far, she hasn’t found the only secret she’s chasing: is what happened with Kasey all she’s told it is?

CONNECTIONS –

DYLAN DAYE – Kasey’s ex-girlfriend, and up until recently, Hayden hadn’t seen her since the funeral. Wide eyed at twelve, Hayden desperately wanted to be Dylan’s friend and hang out with the much cooler girlfriend of her already pretty cool older sister. She wasn’t necessarily shut out… until Dylan fled anything having to do with the Garcia’s post funeral. Hayden has plenty of built up resentment for the both of them, and now that she’s older, she’s planning on getting to the bottom of who exactly Dylan Daye is.

ABIGAIL SHABAT – Hayden strongly dislikes Abbie, and Abbie, well, probably doesn’t think about her at all. The popular, friendly and ambitious cheerleader is the absolute antithesis to everything Hayden is and, well, stands for. But Abbie is also partly who Hayden wishes she was. Pretty, cool, plenty of friends. That, and the object of her crush’s affections.

SUSANNA TURNER – A new friend, and to be honest, one of the first Hayden has had in years. Though they’re different, and Susie is far more outgoing with her choice of extracurriculars (theatre!), Hayden likes her enough. The real reason she started hanging out with Susie was Hayden’s crush on the former’s best friend, but … that doesn’t matter now that Hayden actually enjoys her company, right?

PENNED BY MEREDITH.

#hayden garcia.#by meredith.

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roguesmedley · 7 years

Text

Holding You

Haha oops I wrote a thing. Basically my take on Breredith + that song. You know the one I’m talking about. Ended up being a lot longer than I expected, but whatever. One of my first fanfics pls be nice! :)

~ Holding You ~

Brian arrived at the show early, hoping to grab a good seat and also hoping that he could find his girlfriend and speak with her before the band started their set. Meredith had been acting odd all week, avoiding him and being very jumpy around him. When he had confronted her about it, she said she just working really hard on something for Jim and the Povolos, so he didn’t question it and let her be. Even if that meant the intense curiosity in him had to be quelled. He came straight to the bar from work, and she had left early this morning, so he hadn’t seen her all day.

He ordered a beer from the bartender and set his jacket down at a table close to the stage. He seemed to be the only one in the whole room aside from the bartender. Of course, there was still over half an hour until the performance started. The band’s equipment was all on the stage, but they must have already finished their sound check, so Brian snuck through the back door to try and find them. He spent twenty minutes in the “backstage” of the bar, scouring every single room, twice. But still no sign of Meredith or literally anyone else who would know where she was.

Realizing that the show would be starting soon, Brian gave up and headed back out to the bar room. The once empty room was now a packed house, filled with friends, fans, and casual bar patrons. Brian took his seat at his front row table, now joined by Lauren and Joey. Dylan, Joe and Jamie sat at the next table. He nodded hello and drank some of his beer, listening in on their conversation and waiting for the band.

At exactly 9:00, they came out onstage, from Dead-Wizard-God-knows-where, Brian thought bitterly, sipping his beer and thinking about his earlier adventure through the entire building. All negative feelings were swept aside, however, when Meredith came to the front of the stage and smiled at the crowd. She was wearing a floral print sundress, her favourite yellow cardigan, and black flats. Brian made a note to tell her after the show how beautiful she looked. Mere waved to her friends and grinned even brighter, if that were possible. Brian always thought, even before he was her boyfriend, that Meredith’s smile could quite literally brighten any room that she entered.

“Hey Chicago!” Meredith called, and the crowd applauded and cheered. “We’re Jim and the Povolos, I’m Meredith, and with me is Nick, Jeff, Mark and Clark. Tonight we’ll be playing songs from our new album that comes out soon, and also some covers. Yay!”

The crowd cheered again. Brian was so proud of his girlfriend. She started this band, wrote the songs, played the music, basically worked her butt off to get to this point. Now they have an full album coming out, and even plans for a small tour. Brian clapped and cheered louder than anyone else in the room.

Soon, the place was jamming out to the music. Brian had already heard the whole album, since they rehearse a lot in his and Meredith’s apartment, and he loved them all. His favourite, however, was probably Loved and Alive. There were also some other classic songs played, like some from The Beatles and Billy Joel (one of Mere’s personal favourites). At the end of the night, after the whole bar finished singing along to Holiday Club (Brian and his fellow Starkids dancing along onstage was a show in itself) the lights dimmed.

Meredith moved from her mic to the one at center stage. A single spotlight shone on her, the rest of the room blending into the darkness. This really wasn’t much of a change for Brian, as this was how he always saw her in a crowded room. Meredith adjusted the mic, faced the crowd and spoke softly,

“Hi everyone, thanks for coming out tonight. In case you forgot, we’re Jim and the Povolos, and we just have one more song for you tonight. It’s a totally new song, not even officially on the album yet.” Brian was taken aback. He thought the album was complete. Was this what Meredith was working on all week? “This is a special song that I wrote for a special someone. He means the whole world to me and I wanted to show him how much I appreciate him and everything that he does. Here we go.”

Brian felt multiple pairs of eyes fall upon him as he and his friends realized who this song was about. But he didn’t care. Brian stared straight ahead at the only person in the room who mattered to him. Meredith. His Meredith. Had she really written a song all for him? He had written songs for her, of course, but those were mostly just for Starkid shows. The Way I Do was a big one that he had written for her character in the show, of course, but also for her as a person. Not that he would ever tell anyone that. He felt a surge of emotion flow through him as he could hear the opening notes of the song. Meredith looked at Brian and they locked eyes, not once looking away from each other. Then, she began to sing.

Holding you, Makes me forget the things That I’m supposed to do. Get up and go to work But I always knew. I should’ve stayed While I was holding you.

Brian suddenly remembered every morning that he and Meredith he had experienced together since they got together. How Meredith always hated leaving his side to go to work and how she loved just staying in bed late into the morning on weekends.

Getting tired, But just one word from you And I feel inspired. Open me up To all of life’s grand desires. I should’ve stayed, While I was being admired.

God, Brian thought, he sure did admire the hell out of her. She was so smart, strong and beautiful. He kept staring at her, which would have been a little creepy if she weren’t staring back at him.

Holding you, Is all I’m thinking about. Holding you, Don’t feel like going out. Holding you, I think I’ll just stay here with you A little while, a little while.

Brian realized that yes, although he has written songs for Meredith before, none of them were written with so much love and passion, and he knew that nothing he writes in the future will ever compare to this.

Leaving you, Makes me appreciate The things you say and do Get up with me so early, I always knew, I should’ve stayed while I was holding you.

Brian heard a small squeak somewhere beside him, and without looking, he knew that Lauren had started to cry. Or Joey. Or both. Probably both.

From goodbye, All day the time is just Crawling by. Can’t wait to hold you close And let feelings fly. I’ll always stay, When you are by my side.

Despite the upbeat tune of the song, Brian found there to be tears flowing silently from his eyes as well. He tried to wipe the tears away as subtly as possible, still not losing eye contact with Meredith. After seeing Brian break down, tears began to leak through her eyes as well. She blinked them away as she finished the song.

Feel you pull me low, You know I’ve got to go. But I don’t really need to know, What I’d be missing if I didn’t show. Gotta leave you now, If I can find out how to go, Without this feeling baby. Hold me now, Just one more time today. So I stay.

Meredith finally broke eye contact with Brian to sing the final chorus to the rest of the crowd. Brian hummed along.

Holding you, Is all I’m thinking about. Holding you, Don’t feel like going out. Holding you, I think I’ll just stay here with you A little while, a little while.

The song ended with an instrumental part, so Meredith swayed along to the music as she waited. When the song (and the applause) had ended, she said, “Thank you! Goodnight!”. The band left the stage as everyone filed out of the bar.

Joe, Jamie, Dylan, Joey, Lauren and Brian waited for the band to come back out to pack up their equipment. With everyone helping, the task was easy enough and accomplished quickly. In the back alley, Dylan helped Mark load the last box into his van and close the doors. A few rounds of hugs later, Mark, Nick, Clark and Jeff all piled into the van and drove away. The rest of them walked down the alley to the street.

Jamie, Joe and Dylan left after another round of hugs, promising to meet up later in the week for dinner. As Jamie hugged Mere for the fourth time, she whispered, “I’m so proud of you, girl.” Brian put his arm around his girlfriend and smiled at her. Joey and Lauren headed out in the opposite direction not too long after. Lauren was still crying from the last song.

“Come on, Lo,” Joey called to her. “Let’s go home.” As he picked her up bridal style and carried her away to their apartment, Lauren waved goodbye to Brian and Meredith.

“And then there were two.” Brian said, and Meredith laughed. He suddenly wrapped her up in the fiercest hug he had ever given anyone, picked her up and spun her around. Mere screamed in delight.

“Brian! Put me down!” He listened, gently putting her down onto her feet.

“Only because you’re really heavy.” He folded over and faked being out of breath. She slapped him playfully on the arm.

“You butt. I wrote you a song and this is how you repay me.” Brian stood upright and grinned at her wildly.

“You wrote me a song.”

“Yes.”

“You wrote me a song.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“You wrote me a freaking song!” He was almost yelling at this point, jumping up and down in the empty street.

“Yeah! I did, so, what did you think?” She stared at him curiously, begging for an answer. She didn’t get one. Brian kissed her full on the mouth. After several moments, he pulled away slowly and rested his forehead against hers and gazed into her eyes, beautiful chocolate orbs.

“I love you, Mere.” Brian whispered. Meredith’s eyes widened, then she smiled.

“I love you too, Bri.” The two of them stayed like that for a while, staring into each other’s eyes and grinning like mad. Then, an ambulance siren rang in the distance and broke the spell.

“Come on Wonder Woman,” Brian said, taking her hand. “Let’s get you home.”

“Race you there, Clark Kent.” Meredith let go of his hand and started running.

“Ugh! Mere! No! You know it’s Superman!” Brian ran to catch up with his girlfriend, who was now laughing her head off a whole block ahead. Brian couldn’t help but smile. Although, they had only been dating for a few months, Brian knew now that he loved her with all his heart and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

#breredith #meredith stepien #brian holden #starkid #fanfic #jim and the povolos

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limejuicer1862 · 5 years

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Wombwell Rainbow Interviews

I am honoured and privileged that the following writers local, national and international have agreed to be interviewed by me. I gave the writers two options: an emailed list of questions or a more fluid interview via messenger.

The usual ground is covered about motivation, daily routines and work ethic, but some surprises too. Some of these poets you may know, others may be new to you. I hope you enjoy the experience as much as I do.

Roger Stevens

has published forty books for children. He is a National Poetry Day Ambassador, a founding member of the Able Writers scheme with Brian Moses and runs the award-winning website www.poetryzone.co.uk for children and teachers, which has just celebrated its 20th anniversary. His book Apes to Zebras – an A to Z of shape poems (Bloomsbury) won the prestigious NSTB award. Recent books include I Am a Jigsaw; puzzling poems to baffle your brain (Bloomsbury); Moonstruck; an anthology of moon poems (Otter-Barry) and Be the Change; poems about sustainability (Macmillan). Roger spends his time between the Loire, in France, and Brighton, where he lives with his wife and a very shy dog called Jasper.

The Interview

1. When and why did you start writing poetry?

I can’t remember the first poem I wrote, but I was probably around 12 or 13. I was at secondary school. This would have been in the mid 1960s. I do remember making books of my poems. I would fill hard-covered exercise books with poems and then ask my cousin, who had a typewriter, to type out the best ones. At school we had two English teachers and I guess I was lucky as they were both brilliant. ‘Old Nick’, as we used to call him, looked stern and quite frightening with a shock of black hair, was a strict disciplinarian – woe betide anyone who answered him back – and taught us about classic and traditional poetry. We studied Shakespeare, Chaucer, Byron… he taught with a passion and made poetry exciting and understandable. ‘Flossie’ was more laid back. He was fun and interested in contemporary literature. It was in his lessons that I first met e. e .cummings, whom I still love. Later, the poems of Roger McGough, Brian Patten and Adrian Henri, published in The Mersey Sound in 1967, had a great influence on me. In a way they were Britain’s answer to America’s beat poets. They showed me that poems could be about anything – girlfriends, a visit to the chip shop, anything at all. Roger McGough is still one of my favourite poets. The other big influence in my teens was Bob Dylan. I was in a band (a beat group we called it back then) and he showed me that song lyrics could be so much more than rhymes about the moon and June. I always thought his lyrics were poetry, something recognised recently of course, by the Nobel Prize people.

1.1. Why do you still love e.e.cummings?

That’s a good question. I think I probably liked him as a teenager because I don’t think I’d ever read anything quite like him. I think it was his sheer audacity – writing WITHOUT USING CAPITAL LETTERS? Wow! Flossie also introduced the class to the novel Tristram Shandy by Laurence Stearn. Written in the mid 1700s – it was a novel way ahead of its time. As a teenager “experimental” writing, as I saw it then, was very appealing. After school I went to art college and became fascinated with all things avant garde. John Cage… the Fluxus school… and that was all reflected in my writing and poems at the time. None of which would be good enough to find a publisher now. And now, when I read ee cummings – it’s not just the cleverness of the style, the content means more too. Which, I guess, speaks to me as a grown-up.

1.2. What other poets do you like to read?

I write mainly for children, and so I read a lot of poetry written for children. My favourite is probably Roger McGough. He writes for children, of course, but also for adults. He writes poems that are accessible, that anyone can read. But that have so much more to them. He can do that thing where you read a poem and he tells you something that’s true – but that you’ve never thought of before. And you think – Ah yes! Of course. I love Billy Collins as well, for similar reasons. It’s a phrase you often see on the backs of poetry books – deceptively simple. But sums them both up. I like Simon Armitage, Carol Ann Duffy… and for children’s writing Michael Rosen. I’m currently reading Stephen Dobyns, a poet that I’ve only just discovered. And enjoying his writing very much.

2. What is your daily writing routine?

I don’t really have a daily routine. I keep a notebook with me at all times and write in that most days, whenever I think of something worth noting or see something that could inspire a poem. I have been known to wake up in the middle of the night to write in my notebook, too! Now and again I’ll look back at my notes, dig out any ideas that still seem sensible and work at turning them into a poem or a piece of prose.

But usually writing comes in clusters, when I need to spend concentrated bouts on a particular project, for example if a publisher has commissioned a book from me. When I have a deadline ahead, I will set aside a few hours each day, usually in the mornings, to work exclusively on that book. My time won’t be spent only on writing, because projects often involve research. When Brian Moses and I wrote What Are We Fighting For? for Macmillan, it involved a lot of reading about the two world wars and researching the roles played by people and animals at home and abroad. For that book I spent several weeks working all day creating the 60 or so poems that were my contribution.

I am currently working on a ‘best of’ my poetry collection, but the poems for that are already written and so at the moment I spend an afternoon or two every week trying to choose the best hundred from the thousand or so poems that I’ve had published over the years.

I have two writing projects planned for next year. One is an autobiography which will document what life was like for me and my family in the 1950s onwards. I hope my grandchildren, grand nephews and nieces and those who come after them will find this interesting. I will probably self-publish this. I am also going to write an adult crime thriller, which I hope will interest a mainstream publisher. That definitely will involve a daily routine and I will probably sit down to write immediately after breakfast, take a short break for lunch and continue until mid afternoon. The joy of writing for a living is that you can create a routine that suits you – and you’re not tied to being in one place. I can write wherever I am and, in fact, when I’m working on a big project I find I like to be at our house in France, where distractions are fewer than in England, or even away from it all in our camper van, at home or abroad.

3. What was the motivation behind What Are We Fighting For?

Well, firstly I should explain that I have to write, or make music, or create art. I don’t why this is, but I do! So the main motivation for all my work comes from within. I have written novels and poetry since my teens and have always written songs and played in bands.

But in the late 1980s I had an idea for a children’s book, which proved commercially successful. It was published in 1993 by Penguin. That was The Howen. Another novel followed, Creeper, and writing for children seemed it could be a viable career. I was teaching at a primary school at the time.

It was not until poet Brian Moses visited my school that I thought about writing poems for children. His spirited performance and the workshop that he ran made me realise this was something I wanted to do. So I wrote some children’s poems, sent them to Brian and my first poem was published in an anthology, My First Has Gone Bonkers, in 1993. That was a good year for me. From then on I had lots of poems published in anthologies, I started visiting schools to perform and run workshops for children and teachers and in 2002 my first solo collection, I Did Not Eat the Goldfish, was published by Macmillan.

By then Brian and I had become good friends. We collaborated on a book which was published to coincide with the 2012 Olympic Games and then looked for another project we could share. The reason our Olympic Games book was so successful was because the Games were held in London and the whole sport thing was really topical. Publishers like to know there will be a market for a book.

We thought there would be a lot of publicity around the 100th anniversary of the start of the First World War which we could utilise and our publisher thought so too. Thus, What Are We Fighting For? was born. But it would be wrong to say our motivation was just to cash in on an event. That might have been where the idea for the book came from, but the motivation behind the poems was to convey the evils of this war while acknowledging the bravery of those who were forced to fight in it. Brian and I both had grandparents and parents who’d fought in the two world wars. As children we were keenly aware of the fallout from these conflicts.

There are, of course, some brilliant poets who served in and wrote of both these wars, but their poems are not always easily accessible for children. So we were also motivated by the desire to show the futility of war in a way that children could understand. We wanted to write poems about sadness but with humour and which gave hope for the future. I think we managed it. This was a difficult book to write – to get the tone right – and I also needed to do a lot of research, much more than for most books of poems. It’s a book I’m very proud of.

4. What do you think is the difference between writing for adults and writing for children?

They are the same in so many ways because one writes for the same reasons, no matter what the audience – to communicate ideas. There are some obvious differences, of course: When writing for children I don’t use swear words, sexual or overly violent imagery. The main differences, however, are content and place. I remember being a child quite clearly. This helps, but I was young some while ago! A children’s writer needs to enter the world of children in order to know what matters to them, what will grab them, what will mean something to them. Visiting schools, having children and grandchildren, talking to children helps me keep up to date with the zeitgeist. I also place my writing in a world that is familiar to children. Of course, a poem can be set in a forest and that context can be understood by both adults and children. But a poem about an office, for example, would not work in the same way. Poems can be set in places that are unfamiliar to children, but the situation has to be manipulated to be meaningful to a young audience. It’s common sense really. What a children’s writer does not have to do, despite a common misconception, is to over simplify the vocabulary used. Children are generally good with words and actually enjoy learning new words. Sometimes you need to keep the syntax straightforward but, in general, when writing for both children and adults the most important thing is that what you’ve written will resonate with those you’ve written it for!

5. Have you any tips or advice for anyone wanting to write children’s poetry?

When writing, remember what I’ve said about relating to children and their world. And always try out your work on a child who will give you honest criticism. If it’s poems you’re writing and you’d like to have them published, probably the best way to start is to submit them for inclusion in anthologies. But do your research first and find out what the editors are looking for. This year, I compiled Moonstruck for Otter-Barry Books, to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the first moon-landing. I was sent a lot of poems, as you can imagine. I am constantly amazed at how many poems seem to have no relation whatsoever to the brief. I had to discard quite a few that were nothing to do with the moon! I always strive for variety. So submit long poems, short poems; haiku, ballads, rhyming poems; silly poems, sad poems, serious poems. Lastly, as an anthologist I search for originality. I was sent lots of poems about the moon being made of cheese and quite a few about the moon being like a balloon – they didn’t make it into the book. I would also suggest that would-be children’s poets read some modern children’s poetry, to get a feel for what children read nowadays, and what publishers publish.

6. Do you write for adults then?

Yes I do. I’ve one adult poetry collection published as a book and two others are available as e-books. I also have a novel e-book and I’m working on a new book at the moment, which I hope will be published in 2020. Next year I’m planning to write a crime novel for adults. I am a musician and singer/songwriter as well as a writer and have three albums on Irregular Records and this year (2019) made a jazz album. I perform in acoustic venues and folk clubs.

7. Have you any more books for children planned?

Yes! Over the years, I have had three novels and 35 of my own poetry books published, some solo collections, some collaborations and some anthologies, and my poems have appeared in about 400 books. I sometimes think about slowing down, but I have had six books published in the last two years – The Waggiest Tails (Otter-Barry ) with Brian Moses, The Same Inside (Macmillan) with Liz Brownlee and Matt Goodfellow and the award-winning Apes to Zebras (Bloomsbury), a book of shape poems, with Liz Brownlee and Sue Hardy-Dawson in 2018 and I Am a Jigsaw (Bloomsbury), Moonstruck (Otter-Barry) and Be the Change, Poems to Help You Save the World (Macmillan) with Liz Brownlee and Matt Goodfellow in 2019. So slowing down seems to be just an idea at the moment! I have only two books for children scheduled for next year – my ‘best-of’ collection, which hasn’t yet found a title, and a book of poems about robots. And I will continue to run The Poetry Zone (www.poetryzone.co.uk) where children can publish their own poetry. The thing about being a poet is that it’s sometimes challenging and can take up all your time, but it’s also incredibly rewarding and fun. So I find it difficult to call it work. And I don’t really want to stop – ever!

Wombwell Rainbow Interviews: Roger Stevens Wombwell Rainbow Interviews I am honoured and privileged that the following writers local, national and international have agreed to be interviewed by me.

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ganzeer-reviews · 6 years

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EASY RIDERS, RAGING BULLS By Peter Biskind

o-o-o-o-o

When the two [John Wayne and Dennis Hopper] were working on True Grit, Wayne once flew his helicopter in from the minesweeper he kept at Newport Beach, landed on the Paramount lot, swaggered onto the soundstage with his .45 hanging from his belt, and bellowed, "Where's that pinko Hipper? That goddamn Eldridge Cleaver's out there at UCLA saying 'shit' and 'cocksucker' in front of my sweet daughters. I want that red motherfucker. Where is that commie hiding?"

Like the war between old gods and new in Gaiman's AMERICAN GODS, EASY RIDERS, RAGING BULLS chronicles the battle between Old Hollywood and New. Well into the 60's, Hollywood was still churning out the glamorous musicals and John Wayne Westerns that were popular in the 50's, but America was a different place that the big studio bosses didn't quite get or understand. Anti-War protests and the Civil Rights movement were taking hold. The already popular Nina Simone began addressing racial inequality in her songs, and Bob Dylan became the most popular singer/songwriter in the country, second possibly to The Beatles, who, even they –mere pop artists– couldn't avoid addressing the horrors of the Vietnam war. Television was new, and it was on TV that you could get a glimpse of people like Bob Dylan and The Beatles, who neither looked, sounded, or behaved like anyone on the silver screen. Television was also where you could see mad, groundbreaking ideas for the first time. Things like Star Trek and The Twilight Zone were miles ahead of any feature-length film starring John Wayne or Elizabeth Taylor. As the studios began to lose a lot of money, the control enacted over film-making was relinquished to smaller production outfits, which started giving directors full control over how they made movies. So radical were the results that first time filmmakers like Dennis Hopper, Francis Ford Coppola, and Martin Scorcese became stars almost overnight. And yes, you read that right. Dennis fucking Hopper. EASY RIDER is America's first biker movie, and thus spoke to Americans at the time in a way that no other film ever had. According to Biskind, it largely involved Hopper dicking around on set. The "set" being America's open roads. Nevertheless, it cost $501,000 to make, and brought $91.1 million in rentals. A huge, and very unexpected, return on investment. It won the First Work Award at the Cannes Film festival and was nominated for two Oscars, and Hopper was subsequently christened by LIFE magazine as "Hollywood's hottest director." It was 1969, and the gates of Hollywood finally swung open to welcome American counter-culture for the majority of the 70's. Arguably, the best decade in American film-making until Spielberg and Lucas showed up to introduce the formula for what would become the, ugh, summer blockbuster. The book is a treasure trove of "New Hollywood" history, and delves with great detail into some of the horrors, trials, and tribulations involved in making some of America's greatest films. Warren recommended it to me, after I had listened to this NPR interview with Coppola about the difficulties faced in making THE GODFATHER. And let me tell you, what is revealed in that interview is nothingcompared to what's in this here book. Not just in regards to Coppola, but pretty much every American filmmaker who rose to prominence in the 70's.

Paul [Schrader] made the call to his agent, Michael Hamilburg, said, "This is The Godfather meets Bruce Lee. It's gonna sell for sixty grand. You get a third of the money, I get a third, and Leonard [Schrader] gets a third."

Hamilburg gave them $5,000 on the spot. The brothers arrived in L.A. around Thanksgiving and rented a tiny apartment on Bicknell in Venice, a block from the beach, for $90 a month, which Hamilburg paid for. They took the bedroom doors off the hinges, stole some cinder blocks from a construction site, set up two desks, one in each bedroom, facing each other. The only other piece of furniture was a massive butcher block coffee table with wrought iron legs. They rented two electric typewriters, wrote three drafts in about eight weeks. They wrote around the clock, twenty, twenty-two hours a day, worked ten hours, slept one, very little food. Toward the end, around Christmas of '72, they were running out of money, even though they were spending less than a dollar a day, $7, $10 a week for food, stealing plastic envelopes of ketchup from restaurants, making tomato juice. "We sat down, took a good look at the script, and said to each other, 'We gotta write it one more time,'" recalls Leonard. "We were just wiped out, needed to find the energy to write one more draft. For us, the only surefire source of that big a jolt was guilt. We talked about, 'How we gonna get' – you didn't wanna go out and rob somebody – 'the guilt?' My brother said to me, 'We'll go to Vegas, lose our money, we'll feel so guilty, so pissed off, we'll come home and finish the script.'"

And sure enough, they did. And a couple paragraphs later:

Says Leonard, "There was an auction, sixteen bidders, it was the highest amount for original script ever sold at that point: $325,000."

The film that came out of it, THE YAKUZA, directed by Sydney Pollack, is... well, alright. But it did open the gateways for Paul Schrader who went on to write TAXI DRIVER and RAGING BULL, and eventually direct his own films, like HARDCORE and AMERIAN GIGOLO. But not before screwing his brother over.

When the dust settled, instead of an easy three-way split, The Yakuza money was split 40-40 between Paul and Hamilburg, with Leonard getting only 20 percent. "I wanted to have that sole screenwriting credit, so I made him take shared story credit," says Paul. Leonard looked the other way, pretended it hadn't happened.

Even though THE YAKUZA was originally Leonard's idea for a novel, before his brother convinced him to co-write it as a screenplay with him. Such personal stories aside, one can't help but see the overarching parallels between then and now. Like Old Hollywood back then, Hollywood today has been riding the wave of an old formula – the summer blockbuster – since well, the 80's really. Like Television in the 60's, the Internet has sprung up as the new media outlet through which one can experience things a little closer to today's equivalent of "counter-culture." The internet became home to some of Cory Doctorow's first novels, it is where the art of Molly Crabapple first saw the light, where live video was being broadcast from the heart of the Arab Spring, where people are Tumbling their homemade unairbrushed porn, where kids are producing microfiction using cell phones, and where you can hear Kim Boekbinder sing Pussy Grabs Back in response to Donald Trump. Again, there is a sense that big media outlets are stuck in their old ways, producing things that are far removed from the pulse of now. But if recent hits like MOONLIGHT and GET OUT are any indication, it seems like Hollywood may be catching up. MOONLIGHT is an honest portrayal of homosexuality in an African American community. GET OUT unapologetically tackles the horrors of racism by way of a popular genre film. One of them won the Oscar for best film, and the other is the highest grossing film by a writer/director in the history of American cinema. These are game-changers that tell us that the decade to come will be nothing short of a cultural revolution. And that excites me.

[Available on Amazon]

Ganzeer April 29, 2017

#prose #prose nonfiction

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publichealthjurnal-blog · 6 years

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Write For Us 10 WAYS WRITER’S BLOCK

This post was at first posted without any other person blog.

Ever had a by chance uncooperative identity as of now? I'm certain everybody who makes has been down that street previously. You take a gander at your workstation/PC/type maker for a long time attempting to consider the words or sentences write for us health for whatever it is you're shaping right now. Each sentence made is deleted until the moment that the minute that your eyes are exhausted looking, hair's a hazardous situation and your confirmation decreased.

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Dread not, as I've experienced a practically identical thing interminable of times and I'm here to reveal my own extraordinary part 'remedies' — for nonattendance of a pervasive word — to help you in the midst of need.

On the off chance that you feel that a section of my systems might be unhelpful to you, by then have a go at altering it to your own unique needs — and in the event that you have better considerations, do tell me and I'll solidify it here similarly for others to get some expect to kick-begin their square.

The quick overview that I have is in no progressive interest.

1. Discover Music You can Write to

My recommendation is to discover music that doesn't have words in it — in various words, not tunes, but rather music. What causes me consistently are epic music, instrumental/standard music, establishment bustles shorelines or tornado.

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Tunes are an imperative no-no for me as I tend to toll in and I can't get novel words to leave my head, rather I'll be combining the holds back onto the thing that I'm making. One story I framed on my Watt pad had an entire scene concentrated on a Good Charlotte's tune since I was looking at the social event on rehash. It's not by any stretch of the innovative capacity ace to have tune abstains joined into your records, yet even most exceedingly appalling in the occasion that you're making an article or non-roundabout stories. As I shape this I have the epic music playlist occurring of sight and it's truth be told exceptional if you're utilizing it to consider some epic experience story — but I utilize it similarly as monotonous sound I can't work with quietness.

2. Making Prompts

When I'm in a hang to frame for my blog, I check for making prompts on the web. There are different sorts of making prompts you can discover on the web. I rejected a site page here in light of the manner in which that you can simply Google 'influencing prompts for web journals' and thousands will to show up. I'm so extraordinarily appreciative to individuals who set aside the opportunity to make these prompts that assistance a mental obstacle.

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I'm utilizing a course of action actuate right now as well — it has one for the entire year and a touch of the centers don't identify with me so I can't utilize it, yet I change a piece of the subjects for me to utilize. One of the centers was to form a list — and here I am. Apparently about it decidedly has any sort of impact.

You don't just need to utilize the prompts for shaping regions, as it assists with preliminary making also.

3. Make Something Else

In case you're stuck on a blog area which can't go past the principal line, desert it and basically make something unique. In the occasion that you're stuck on a story that is just the key zone, surrender it and work on something intriguing.

Photograph by Nick Morrison on Unsplash

It is certainly not something to be thankful for to leave things lacking, yet by backing off out there, you're not advancing. On the off chance that you stop that, possibly you could make something remarkable that is clearly better.

You don't comprehend what number of blog point contemplation has been left as draft in my blog page and finally I just surrendered and made something else — which I really do understand how to wrap up.

There are interminable of stories I've left lacking in my workstation as well — I'm not happy with it, yet rather continually end, I understands how to finish different stories and I don't feel exorbitantly upsetting about myself by at that point.

4. Fundamentally Keep Writing

In the occasion that you're the kind of individual who doesn't trust in betraying a story or a post, by then fundamentally continue making. Like Dory's 'Simply continue swimming' tune, I'd prepare you to 'simply continue making, basically continue framing, making, making'.

Really, you've hit a square and nothing innovative comes up, yet by proceeding, as time goes on you will achieve a point where something looks great and your creative energies will begin spilling.

You would then have the ability to return and demolish each and every one of those parts you formed endeavoring to ensure deadness of being stuck and have a spic and length story before you.

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5. Change of Environment

On the off chance that you generally write in a specific place, have a go at moving elsewhere to shape. Besides, I don't mean clearing and leaving your home — although that may work — what I recommended looks like on the off chance that you write in your room, by then have a go at writing in the parlor or another piece of the house. In the event that changing rooms in your home doesn't work, by then go to a bistro close-by and shape there?

From time to time the sound of individuals mumbling and espresso being made is a regular wellspring of motivation.

Photograph by Dylan Gillis on Unsplash

Moving spots to discover a place that enables you motivation ought to need to kick begin that square.

Besides, have a go at finding shaping packs in your area. I am aware of a maker's look at accumulate here in Pena and I'm expecting to oblige them one of nowadays. These are a get-together of contiguous authors who get together and make and after that rebuke each other's works — constructive feedback works.

This partner as you're sitting inside a region stacked up with inventive vitality and who comprehends that will help in making new contemplation.

6. Consider What to Write as You Go To Sleep

I comprehend that you have to get your brains free before resting, yet attempt this now and again when you're in a hang for what to make.

In the occasion that you're making a story, conceptualize the going with couple of parts outline similarly as it's played out like a film in your cerebrum. When you get up, you ought to be able to proceed ahead from the stuck section.

Photograph by Chris Abney on Unsplash

This is an attempted and worked procedure for me. I don't know whether it works for everybody, except rather it's obviously worked for me. I'd consider a section I'm stuck on and what may I have the ability to do to propel the plot and I'd play the entire scene in my mind as I skim off to rest.

Before you know it, the following morning I wake up new with new insights and my fingers shuddering to get on my PC and begin making.

Try that and let me know whether it works for you too.

7. Make at Different Times

I appreciate that I get the vast majority of my motivations late into the night — usually after 2 or 3 am. There are times I oversee without my rest just to complete a full part, or a full blog entry up. Possibly some extraordinary individuals have specific occasions that works for them. Possibly at a young hour toward the beginning of the day as you get up? Possibly toward the night.

Have a go at framing at various times from when you all things considered make and check whether the motivation goes through.

On the off chance that it's at odd hours like mine, utilization the terminations of the week to spend the night making. I can't do that well ordered since I have work the following day, at any rate I spend my completions of the week resting late to shape.

Photograph by methods for Carolyn V on Unsplash

I all over write in focal point of my working hours, in light of the way that the motivation kicks in just by at that point. Fundamentally make the vital strides not to get captured.

8. Disregard the Waiting Task and Do Other Things

Once in a while it gets to a point of bafflement that you can't finish your story or blog area or article and the best development is to disregard it and surpass desires with life.

Butcher that PC, go to a store, go to a shopping center, go to the shoreline, paint, draw, locate another side interest or basically rest. It's no point moving yourself on the off chance that you can't push forward.

Every so often while doing different undertakings, your dream will discover it's approach to manage you. Besides, a while later you can begin making over again.

Photograph by Cody Black on Unsplash

On occasion, driving yourself an unreasonable proportion of doesn't bolster much, so it's more astute to make a stroll back and begin once more.

9. Take the necessary steps not to Plan; Just Write

A part of the time having an arrangement of what you need to make works, yet on top of it just makes it difficult to push ahead. What I have a tendency to do when I'm clung is to simply make whatever that navigates my brain, not transforming them until the point that the minute that I'm set. On occasion when you frame without heading, you tend to look for after a substitute way from where you anticipated that would go in any case.

Photograph by Fabian Sara on Unsplash

I once lost such a broad number of portions on a story I was making and it was the most exceedingly horrendous time as I anticipated that would fix up the entire thing and it turned out for the best in light of the manner in which that the story turned out superior to the key draft with a substitute course.

On occasion, noteworthy heading gives us better motivation.

10. Try not to think about the Critics

Once in a while, thinking about savvy people smothers me and makes me feel like I ought not utilizing all methods consider framing as a longing as I'll certainly be detached to shreds and from the blue the

Click Here: Write For Us Writer's Block

#health blogs accepting guest posts

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iamnotthedog · 6 years

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ST. LOUIS: FALL 1999

Once I graduated from high school, I had been reading road books and travelogues pretty much exclusively for quite a while. After I read On the Road at Jim’s place, I caught the travel bug, and read Celine’s Journey to the End of the Night, Hunter S. Thompson’s Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Tom Wolfe’s The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, Bashō’s Narrow Road to the Deep North and Other Travel Sketches, and Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, which came at the suggestion of Mrs. Frame, who really knew me better than just about anyone at the time. Those books all lit a fire under me, and I couldn’t wait to get out of Morrison and experience more of the world, as well as a whole new life out from under my parents’ roof.

I wanted to travel more than anything, but I was determined to go to college first, and I sort of ended up fucking that whole thing up, to be completely honest. I mean, it wasn’t bad or anything, it just isn’t what I should have been doing. I got accepted to a writing program at a private school called Webster University.1 Webster’s a nice school and all, I just say that I fucked up because of all the places in the world that I could have gone after finally getting out of Morrison, I ended up in a suburb of St. Louis, which isn’t exactly the most exciting place in the world. I mainly ended up there because I was lazy with the whole “preparing for college” thing, and I hadn’t even applied anywhere else.

All that aside, I was excited to meet some new people when I arrived at Webster for the first time—as most college freshmen are. But then my first roommate in the dorms at Webster was a total dick. His name was Brett or Brent, and he was one of the several people on my floor who had barely even put their suitcases down before they started complaining that Webster University was too small, and threatening to transfer to UMSL (“threatening,” as though any of us would actually care if they left), where they could live downtown and go to football games and frat parties and chug beer out of holes punched into the sides of cans and maybe even videotape themselves fucking somebody.

That wasn’t my scene. Sleepy Webster Groves with its narrow tree-lined streets and long-haired, grey-bearded writing professors was more up my alley. And after about a week in the dorms, I managed to find a few like-minded people to spend some time with. I met the friend I would eventually end up taking to California with me—John—and John’s roommate and lifelong companion (at least up to that point), Marc.

I was walking down the hall completely aimlessly one afternoon when I heard Bob Dylan crooning through a door that was open a crack, and I smelled incense, so I gave a little knock. John came to the door and peeped out at me with his red eyes, his long brown caveman hair and unshaven chin. He was wearing a tie-dyed t-shirt with a stretched out collar, and baggy sweatpants with a bunch of pockets on the legs. And he was barefoot. He looked at me skeptically, furrowing his brow. “Yes?” he said.

“Hey,” I said, awkwardly. “Uh...what’s going on?”

He opened the door a little wider. Marc was behind him, sitting on a futon with long red hair flowing down over his pale, shirtless torso and a fuckin’ three-foot tall glass bong in his lap. He lifted a lighter in a sort of wave.

“Nothing much,” John said. He kind of tilted his head to the side a little and looked into my eyes. He still looked skeptical.

I stuck a finger in the air in an attempt at pointing at the music playing, as people do. “Blonde on Blonde,” I said. I wasn’t exactly sure how to accomplish what I wanted to accomplish. Then I saw a couple guitars in the corner of the room, back behind Marc. “You guys play? I can play pretty much this whole album.”

That seemed to work, for whatever reason.

“C’mon in,” John said.

John and Marc lived in their own little hippie heaven there in the dorms. Their walls were plastered with tapestries and black light posters and pictures of Led Zeppelin and the Doors and Jimi Hendrix and the Grateful Dead. They always had incense burning and music on the stereo. They would sleep to some of the weirdest shit, too. If you walked by their room late any night—say you were stoned and wandering down the hallway to hit up the vending machines for a Snickers or whatever—you could often hear some Miles Davis piping out through their door. It was the weird Miles, too. Not Kind of Blue Miles, but Bitches Brew or sometimes even On the Corner Miles. Even being a huge Miles Davis fan, as I was at the time (and still am), I couldn’t understand how anyone could actually fall asleep to On the Corner.

After I started hanging out with John and Marc, I ended up spending a hell of a lot more time in their room then my own. The amount of drugs those two smoked was comical. They would literally wake up in the morning and smoke opium. Opium! At, like, nine o’clock in the goddamned morning. Then they would go back to sleep for a couple hours, wake up, and smoke some weed to start their day.

John and Marc were great for me, though—at least at the start—because they were from St. Louis. Born and raised. They were the first people to take me out on the town and show me around. They showed me where to buy my weed—which was actually pretty hilarious, because they got all their shit from a fat black dude named Q who worked in the drive-thru of a local Steak ‘n Shake—and they took me to see shows at the local venues, and they’d drive me out to Marc’s parents house in the outer ‘burbs, which was huge.2 We’d have parties out there whenever Marc’s parents were out of town, which was actually quite a bit because they were getting ready to move down south somewhere, and were always going down there to look at property.

The thing was, though, that after a while John and Marc’s circle of high school buddies that were always hanging around started to wear on me a little—I mentioned that earlier. They had all that history together—all those inside jokes and anecdotes and all that loyalty that seems really nice at first, but really ends up making people lazy and afraid of change after a while. I started to feel like I had actually never left high school myself. So I started seeking out other circles with which to insert myself. These guys who came around to Marc and John’s room every once in a while to score some weed were pretty laid back, and they lived on the floor above us. Their names were Phil and Isaac. Phil was a California boy who had grown up in Salinas, on the Pacific coast, which prompted all of us who had never travelled west and had our ultra-idealized fantasies of California in our heads to ask him why the hell he had come to the Midwest. (His mother worked for the university and got him a really good deal on tuition, or something like that). As for Isaac, he was a classic cinephile type, born and raised in St. Louis, and he resembled the Dude from The Big Lebowski—always stoned, always in sweatpants. He even drank White Russians almost exclusively.

Anyway, I started hanging out with Phil and Isaac more, and Phil and I totally hit it off. He needed a roommate, as his previous roommate was not unlike Brett or Brent—one of those jock types who decided that he needed to drop out of Webster and go to a school with a fraternity and more “loose chicks.” So I said sayonara to Brett or Brent, and I moved into Phil’s room.

Phil was a handsome kid with a neatly trimmed goatee, a friendly smile, and a southern California sense of style. He and I started cruising around together in his tricked out BMW with black lights under the dash, flashy rims, and a lowered suspension. I was at the height of my adolescent kleptomania at the time, and when I got off work at this little deli I had been rolling burritos for, Phil would pick me up and I’d go steal us a big bottle of good liquor from the local big-box grocery store down the street, Schnucks.3 We’d bring the bottle back to the dorms and have some drinks with a joint or two before hitting up some of the other kids on the floor, seeing if they wanted to go drive around and find some shit to get into.

It was around then that I met Leah.

Leah lived right down the hallway from Phil and I, along with her friend, Lilith. Lilith and Leah were both into a lot of the same music as I was, and they were down to party pretty much whenever Phil and I were. The first time Leah came around to my room alone, I was probably listening to some Bob Marley or something cliché like that and working on a paper for one of my classes, and she came in wearing this tight tube top without a bra. She totally took me off guard.

“Hey,” she said, leaning on the doorframe in the open door. I looked at her tube top, her pale, flat stomach, then quickly caught myself, shifting my gaze up to her eyes and smiling.

“What’s going on?” I stammered. “What...uh...what are you doing?”

I had already thought Leah was cool and everything—she was hyper smart, funny, and had great taste in music and books and all that—but after that entrance—after she stood right there next to me and leaned over me and asked about my paper, with her nipples in my face and her sweet breath surrounding me—well, after that she had my attention pretty much all the time. Then one night, we were alone in her room listening to records, and she asked me to give her a massage. She slipped my hand down between her legs and put her hand between mine, and then she got me up into her bed and unbuttoned my jeans and slipped off her shorts and took my virginity. Just like that. It took all of three minutes, tops. I made some excuse that she was way too good and that my last girl had been a dead fish, but in all honesty, I had never even come close to getting laid in high school. My high school experience, as I mentioned earlier, had been nothing but one long dry hump.

So after that night, Leah and I were pretty much attached at the hip for the next few weeks. She was all I needed, really. But we weren’t even one month into our relationship before the honeymoon ended—as they do—and things got real.

It turned out that Leah was clinically depressed. She managed to hide it from me for our first few weeks together, but then she just couldn’t do it any more. It started to show itself—mostly in her retreating to her room, turning the lights off, and refusing to come out for anything.

It always happened the same way. A couple weeks into the semester, Leah had moved out of the dorms to the university apartments where kids with rich parents could afford to live. I’d go over there and Leah would turn off the television. We’d sit on her couch and smoke a bowl. I’d put a record on. She’d walk to the kitchen, right there in the same room, and put on a pot of water for tea. Then she’d come back over to me, stripping some of her clothes off, and we’d mess around a little, go into her bedroom for a while, and then take a nap or shower. Then we’d be talking and thinking about going out and finding Phil or Lilith or something and she’d turn off. Like someone pulled a plug.

And those were the good nights. On the bad nights the plug would get pulled far earlier. Sometimes before I even got over to her apartment. Sometimes I’d be walking around the black asphalt parking lot on that white cement sidewalk around those neatly trimmed bushes by the hot tub that Phil and I used to break into after hours, and I’d be all excited to see my girl, and then I’d look up at her window and see that it was dark and the shades were drawn. After a while I learned to not even try knocking when that was the case. She’d be in her huge bed with her thick white down comforter up over her head, and she wouldn’t come to the door for anyone.

On those nights, I would get so down on everything that I would avoid everyone and leave campus altogether. I’d walk for hours down Big Bend Boulevard, through Richmond Heights, and sometimes all the way through Forest Park to the Central West End—a good twelve miles round trip. I would just walk and maybe smoke some weed, and I’d think of all those travel books and all my favorite characters, and I’d think about how as soon as I just couldn’t take school anymore—as soon as I started to get bored with everything—I’d just get up and leave. I thought about how I had to do that at some point—how I had to do it while I was still young, before the university life managed to scoop up whatever was left of my spirit and funnel me into the downward spiral of some sort of career pursuit or another. What was I in school for writing for, anyway? Screw being taught an art, I wanted to turn myself into art—make myself into the project I would work on for the rest of my life.

I would think about all that while walking and seeing the city at night—piece by piece, building by building—and I loved those walks, even if the part of the city I was walking through was just boring ol’ Richmond Heights. Back on campus, though, I have to admit that I’d always walk by Leah’s place before walking back to the dorms. Sometimes her light would be on, and I’d go over there and we’d run our whole routine, just a few hours later than usual. Other times, though, she wouldn’t even come to the door. And sadly enough, thinking back on all that now that I am more than a dozen years removed from the situation, that depression is still what I remember most about Leah—the way it would consume her, over and over again.

Webster University is named after the place in which it resides—a mellow, inner-ring suburb of St. Louis called Webster Groves. It’s got a nice campus, with lots of old buildings and trees—some nuns founded it as a Catholic women’s college in 1915 before the first male students were admitted in 1962. ↩︎

When Marc’s parents finally sold the house, they ended up selling it to some hot shot rookie for the St. Louis Cardinals. ↩︎

When I say I was “at the height of my adolescent kleptomania,” what I mean is that it was pretty bad right around then. I would have never stolen from an individual person, or from a mom and pop sort of store, but big box department stores and grocery chains were like all-you-can-eat buffets to me. Nothing was off limits. I actually used to go into department stores in the mall or wherever and take like five t-shirts into the dressing room, put ‘em all on, then put my own shirt on over ‘em, cover up with a jacket or a hooded sweatshirt, and walk right the fuck out. I’d never have the balls to do that sort of thing nowadays. ↩︎

#college #stlouis #websteruniversity #artschool #fratboys #bobdylan #milesdavis #ledzeppelin #thedoors #jimihendrix #thegratefuldead #weed #opium #steaknshake #schnucks #suburbs #virginity #depression

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chadnevett · 7 years

Text

Random Thoughts! (August 20, 2017)

On vacation. Michelle and Ryan left on Friday night after supper. My activities since then have been enjoyable and relaxing. I read outside on our patio (Friday night and, then, this morning before the sun got high enough to bother me -- I really do love getting up before the sun rises enough to bother me and read the paper). Listened to a couple of podcasts. Read a bunch of comics. Watched a bunch of wrestling (with more tonight!). And watched most of the bonus features on the Twin Peaks boxset (DVD edition). And drank a ton of coffee. I am currently struggling with writing about The Ultimates 2 and listening to some 2017 albums -- just finished Times Infinity Vol. 2 by the Dears (who I will have the pleasure of seeing live in November when they come to Windsor -- one of the last bands on my bucket list of musical acts to see live) and currently have Humanz by Gorillaz on (who I could see live in Detroit, I guess, but I don't really want to). But, here's some Random Thoughts for you...

* I'm not necessarily a big concert guy. I enjoy them well enough, but I'm also older and lazier and I enjoy sitting my ass down for a concert. I'm mature enough to know that sitting doesn't mean a lack of engagement or excitement. It just means I don't want to stand all fucking night when there's a perfectly good chair. Standing does not make the music better. I figure the Dears show will be a standing affair being in a bar -- but, I've also had some good sitting in a bar shows. But, there are a small list of musical acts that I'll go out of my way to see live. The ones I've seen that fall under this category: Sam Roberts Band (five times), the White Stripes (twice -- haven't seen Jack White in any other band or solo yet -- I'd go out of my way to see him solo), the Tragically Hip (twice), Hawksley Workman (twice) the Hives, Ryan Adams, Matthew Good, k-os, Danko Jones and Neil Young (twice). I've seen other bands live, but I think that covers the list of acts that are on my "buy their stuff when it comes out automatically" list. The Dears will soon join that list. The acts that I haven't yet seen that I would like to: Metallica (I could have on their latest tour, but various factors made it seem less ideal -- which was good, because I had a terrible cold that week and it would have been a miserable experience), Queens of the Stone Age (a possibility for their next tour, but money is always an issue -- and, honestly, one of the factors I mentioned is that I prefer not to go to Detroit concerts on weeknights... too much time/effort -- because I am old and lazy), Steven Page and/or Barenaked Ladies (I'd choose the former over the latter if forced to choose), Joel Plaskett, the Black Keys, Arkells, Bob Dylan (his latest trip through Detroit was part of some festival, so no), and... that's about it, I guess. I'd love to see almost any of the bands I've seen already again -- especially Hawksley Workman, the Hives, and Danko Jones. The musicans I've missed out on because of death is a third list that reminds me that maybe I should stop being so picky about conditions for seeing people: Lou Reed, Leonard Cohen, and Motorhead (the last two were ones that I remember playing in Detroit when I've lived in Windsor).

* The comics I read yesterday were mostly some things I'd put aside and let accumulate, like the most recent Sex Criminals arc (which reads so much better in a bigger chunk like that) and the last half-year of Stray Bullets: Sunshine & Roses. That last one... man, someone said it on Twitter a few weeks ago, but why is no one talking about Stray Bullets? Ever since it ended way back when, people kept bitching and moaning for it to come back and, then, it does, and it's FUCKING AMAZING. It's the best monthly comic I read (therefore: the best monthly comic out right now, because I clearly read only the best monthly comics). It's crazy and unpredictable and rooted in these flawed, fucked up characters... The current story fills in the gaps between the first arc and the second and it just keeps going (issue 27 is out in a week-and-a-half) and you'd think you'd just go "Enough already!" but it keeps getting better. It just keeps adding on and adding on and adding on and digging into this detail here and adding onto that and... it seems like it could go forever.

* Been doing a lot of work at home lately. Every night practically. Even if it's just 30-60 minutes, it just takes up so much mental space. It's nice to not worry about that right now. I've been struggling a bit the past two days with pushing that from my mind. It's working... slowly. I care about my job. Maybe too much. But, it is what it is. Over the past year, I've been really working on trying to leave work at work, at least mentally. Doing the overtime at home is okay, but I wish it didn't mean that work occupied my mind between when I leave and when I begin doing that extra work. That's the last space that I need to work on. Right now, it's hard to push away because of a couple of things that I'm waiting to hear about, so I've got some anxiety (good and bad). But, it's fading... Might come back tomorrow a bit more because then it's a possibility that I'll get called about either thing since they're both big enough to warrant calling me while I'm off (theoretically -- maybe my bosses don't see it that way). So... there we are. But, one thing I've learned is that putting it down in writing helps. Either like this or by making a list of some kind. Put it down in writing and it leaves your head. It's there in writing instead.

* Teen Titans Go! is my favourite superhero TV show/movie. Bar none. It's not even close at this point. That show is everything that I want from superhero fiction at this point. It does everything. It's wacky and meta and funny and serious... except not really. It doesn't take itself too seriously. It's about flawed people who are superheroes. As others have pointed out, it's It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia for kids. On the whole, it is beyond anything I currently see in superhero comics. (It's also my counterargument to everyone who shits on DC in favour of Marvel in the TV/movie realm -- Marvel wishes any of its shit was half this good).

* Tonight is SummerSlam. For the second year in a row, my vacation lines up with SummerSlam weekend -- and Michelle and Ryan being gone to do something with her family. That means I will be ordering Pizza Hut tonight. It's what I order when I get to watch a WWE PPV alone. I don't know why. I just like ordering Pizza Hut for these things. I'm looking forward to the show. I have no idea if it will be good or not. WWE is so fucking unpredictable these days with quality. Shows that look great on paper flop; shows that look dull as shit turn out to be engaging and lively. I just hope I don't begin to nod off near the end. That's my big downfall these days: any time after 7:30, I may hit a half-hour period where my body decides it's time for bed and I have to fight against the urge. Once I fight through, I'm good -- but, man, that fight is a tough one some nights. Last night, I didn't really fight it when it hit during the main event of the NXT show, because I knew how good Roode/McIntyre would be and didn't consider it worth the effort (NXT shows are continually quite good, bar the NXT title matches for the past year or so... holy fuck do they need to get that sorted). There's nothing specific that I'm looking forward to -- or dreading. Just looking forward to taking the show in. And eating Pizza Hut. (Still not decided on what I'm getting. I love their Canadian, but it's tough, because I want to maximise what I get for the cheapest amount of money. They have a daily $10 medium/large pizza and Sunday is Triple Crown (pepperoni, green peppers and mushrooms), so I sometimes get a large one of those. They also have a $15 deal that I'll get: a two-topping Panlicious pizza (a square pizza with eight slices), eight boneless chicken bites, and breadsticks. I like that, because it's a nice bit of variety (and I dig the breadsticks). I might get that, because they have some new smokehouse pepperoni that I'm curious about... This is what I spend far too much time thinking about.)

* My Keurig coffee of choice is the Van Houtte Mexico blend. I've tried just about every dark roast you can get in k-cups and it's the best. My co-workers will sometimes hit me up for a k-cup here and there, and, if I have the Mexico stuff at the office, their eyes light up. It's the good shit.

* On the August Civic Holiday, Ryan's daycare was open, so Michelle and I had a day to ourselves. We watched Fire Walk with Me, had lunch together, and saw Dunkirk. After dropping Ryan off, though, we stopped at Starbucks, and I tried one of their clover coffees -- I got the most expensive one -- $6 for a venti. It was okay. Not worth six bucks, though. Maybe $3.50.

* We watched Twin Peaks a month or so back. We both liked it a lot. Not nearly as weird as I thought it would be based on what people said. But, I also like how I knew a few big details (the basic premise, the identity of the killer, the final scene of the first season, and the final scene of the second season -- maybe a couple of other bits and pieces there, but nothing major) and it didn't impact my enjoyment at all. I didn't feel spoiled, because it's very much a show about experiencing what's happening, not where it winds up. That leaves me fairly good about not seeing the current one and not worrying about learning plot details. Who cares? It doesn't really tell me a lot about what watching the show is like. The only way to know that is to see it. And, man, am I looking forward to when we can watch The Return. (Okay, if I really wanted, I could shell out the money for The Movie Network -- as that's where it airs in Canada -- or find a way to pirate it online, but, nah... We'll just wait for the DVD, because we're old and prefer to spend money on things that are more permanent, theoretically.)

* We both had the same complaint about Fire Walk with Me -- we wanted more of the FBI stuff. The Laura stuff was good, but it fell into the same problem that a lot of prequel stuff does: you know the overall plot and the experience isn't quite good enough to make it worthwhile again.

* Currently rereading Raymond Chandler's work. I began with the two short story collections I have (Trouble is My Business and The Simple Art of Murder) and am currently up to The Long Goodbye in the novels. After I finish the novels, I'm going back to my copy of his complete short stories and will read all of the ones that weren't in the two collections (I got the two collections before I got the complete hardcover). You can really see him progress as a writer in the novels. The Big Sleep is definitely the worst-written one thus far. With each book, the prose gets better -- and there's an increasing focus on the non-plot details. It becomes more and more about how Marlowe suffers and deals with the worst fucking people and his increasing impatience with these pieces of shit. Every novel, I go "This is his best novel!" I love how his first post-Hollywood novel The Little Sister is just so fucking bitter. He took all of his feelings about that period of his life and put them on the page. One of the things I plan to do this week is watch The Big Sleep and The Long Goodbye. (If I can find the time -- or more accurately, choose to spend my time doing it, I'm also planning to watch all of Christopher Nolan's movies in a row...) James Ellroy has often said how little he likes Chandler's writing, but Ellroy writes such complementary work to Chandler's novels. More explicit, sure, and from the other side (the cops), but they work in concert quite well, exploring the same location in a similar period. And they don't contradict one another much (at least from what I remember).

* Okay, for superhero comics, what I'm digging these days: obviously The Mighty Thor. After that, what I think I'm enjoying most is The Infamous Iron Man by Bendis and Maleev. They did a scene with Ben Grimm and Johnny Storm a couple of issues ago that was fantastic. It's a very atmospheric book. Very relaxed. I have to remind myself to slow down with it. Wicked and Divine is good; as is Uber (the most recent issue was a technical bit of genius). Joe Casey is back doing a couple of books for Lion Forge's Catalyst Prime line -- Accell has had three issues and veers wildly between the best and worst of Casey's superhero work (with art that is not at all my taste) and The Incidentals starts this week. I dig Bendis's other work and... I mean, Ellis is doing The Wild Storm, which is good. I'm not sure I'm reading anything else superhero-related at this point. Oh, I really liked the first issue of Mister Miracle. More than I expected. It's the second thing by Tom King I'm reading. I got the trade of Omega Men when it came out and it was Fine. Not at all as good as everyone made it seem, but... Maybe it was built up too much. Maybe I should revisit it again. I'm waiting for Vision to be released in one chunk. And Batman... maybe someday, but... Finch... But, I figured I'd jump on board Mister Miracle as it looked like it would be my kind of thing. So far, it is.

* I had backed a Kickstarter for the Nexus Compendium and that fell through, kind of, for a variety of personal reasons for the Rudes. But, to make good, they offered a few options, one of which was the equivalent of my pledge at their store online with a discount code. So I got the two Nexus trades there (Space Opera and the ones collecting the Dark Horse Presents stuff). Then I looked online and realised that, if I got volumes seven and eight of the Nexus Omnibus, I'd have the complete series, basically. So I got them for this vacation. Looking forward to reading through those comics. The other book I'd gotten and saved for vacation was the seventh Powers deluxe hardcover, which covers "The Bureau Saga." It was good. Read it yesterday afternoon. It had been so long since the sixth volume that I honestly forgot what I had happened aside from they'd be working for the FBI now. Duh. That will be a fun series to reread some day.

* Preacher season two is really good. I've made peace with how much it deviates from the comic, I think. The two are pretty much unrelated at this point aside from some of the broad details. Which is fine. I'd rather see something that draws upon the comic but does it's own thing. I struggled with some of their choices at first (mostly the stuff with Jesse and his dad, because that was a dramatic change that seemed to fundamentally change the character in ways that I wasn't sure I liked). I do like not knowing where it's going. At this point, anything that matches the comic is the big surprise rather than points of depature. The stuff in hell is really great, in particular.

* The latest issue of Heavy Metal has no Grant Morrison comics. Only four more issues left. What a fucking waste this subscription has been. Two issues never received. My one attempt to get one of them resulted in them sending me an issue I already had -- TWICE (they sent it, I complained that they sent the wrong one and they sent it again -- three fucking copies of this one issue, man). I had high hopes for his tenure on the magazine, but it's been a bust. Okay, that's harsh. I've enjoyed some stuff in it. Even a Morrison strip ("Mythopia" is worth writing about). The "Zentropa" stuff by John Mahoney always makes me stop and look. The odd thing here and there, but... The most recent issue is full of strips inspired by songs by metal acts that I don't enjoy. FUN.

* I'm boring. Enjoy your Sunday.

#random thoughts #comics #music #books #tv #raymond chandler #the dears #teen titans go #david lapham #Brian Michael Bendis #wrestling #i am boring

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darbiblog-blog · 7 years

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How the music industry got here again to existence

New Post has been published on https://darbi.org/how-the-music-industry-got-here-again-to-existence/

How the music industry got here again to existence

listen to music

classical music

amy winehouse music

US streaming sales rose to $3.9bn last year — fifty-one in line with a cent of a complete of $7.7bn. The latter is the best half of the industry’s income in 1999, earlier than the outbreak of digital piracy, however, growth has back. Popular tune, the most important tune label, struck a new licensing deal this week with Spotify, the streaming provider, easing the way for Spotify’s preliminary public presenting.

Music Industry

The pirates’ strongholds are being retaken. Pirate Bay, a peer-to-peer site, went stay in Sweden in 2003, with Gottfrid Svartholm, its co-founder, asserting that “Sweden is a country in northern Europe . . . US regulation does not practice here.” He changed into later jailed and Sweden now has one of the international’s highest paid-subscription prices to services consisting of Apple track.

Music became among the first industries to be digitally disrupted and track labels have been badly harm. So their healing in developed markets (piracy stays massive somewhere else) has useful instructions for others.

First, as Bob Dylan might suggest, don’t throw all of it away. The labels made errors — suing people for illegal downloading and making themselves appear like bullies become one of the worst. but they stored their faith that recorded song become treasured and well worth procuring, not like publishers that unwisely switched to freely giving information totally free and counting on advertising and marketing.

That religion is now paying off. Paid subscriptions, which jumped from $1.2bn in $2.5bn within the US last 12 months, have become the industry’s main supply of earnings as virtual downloads and bodily income decline (other than the vinyl resurgence). A few 50m Spotify users now pay to have unfettered cellular get right of entry to its 30m tracks rather than counting on its simple advert-funded service. The 3 Maximum Under-Rated Artists within the tuning industry These days As time continues rolling on, the music industry keeps to grow and conform to the automatic expertise wherein has eaten up the industry Today. It seems as though the extra cash made in the tune international These days, the much less real skills the artists have. Noticing the Top 10 hits of iTunes inside the past 10 years, the list is packed with rap stars and computerized musicians that haven’t any expertise aside from how to paintings a simple track manufacturing program. The fact is that music has taken a flip down an uncharted avenue this is packed with technology and mediocrity.

Despite the fact that song Nowadays isn’t what it was once, there are nonetheless Some artists that write for the only reason of pleasing their love of tune and expressing themselves in a true, passionate manner. Maximum of the artists that also write and perform with bona fide expression and achievement are the Most Below-rated artists within the song international These days. The artists that have a true talent and love for song ought to not be driven to the lowest of the charts through the common artists of the contemporary track. Instead, they have to be winning the Grammy and the American tune Awards rather than the “musicians” of These days.

The Pinnacle three Underneath-rated artists are simply multiple many who deserve recognition for no longer conforming to the enterprise’s Top ten tips these days. Those artists also deserve the greatest thanks and applause for their particular sounds and expressive works of artwork.

3. Gavin Degraw

Gavin has been within the industry given that 2003 together with his album Chariot and has handiest acquired one Top Ten list of his music “I Don’t Need to Be” at quantity 10 in 2004. This same song changed into selected as the topic song for the tv drama series, One Tree Hill. His splendid paintings have in no way broken the Pinnacle Ten and keep to live beneath the rap stars and electricians that run the tune enterprise’s Top songs Nowadays. Gavin also launched a strictly acoustic album of his album Chariot, known as Chariot Stripped, which showed that he can upward thrust above the manufacturing of song and editing of tracks and release genuine, heartfelt track. In August 2011, Gavin turned into attacked with the aid of Some humans on the streets of recent York City and become hit by a taxi rapidly after. He became compelled to cancel one in every of his performances and thrust back the discharge date of his new album Sweeter. but, sure sufficient, Gavin returned to the music scene to preserve turning in works of artwork to the song world and kept acting. Now it truly is ardor!

2. Sara Bareilles

Like Gavin, Sara has been within the song industry for quite some time now. She screams passion and love for what she does. She started out her recording profession again in 2004, but with little achievement. the achievement did not come till the release of her album Little Voices. She ultimately worked her manner into the Pinnacle Ten with her mainstream hit, “Love track”. Despite the fact that the hit reached the number one spot on the list, Sara is still one of the Most Underneath-rated artists of Today. Her performances glow with affection due to the fact she loves what she does and does it with perfection. Her fashion is not like every person else in the industry. As a pianist and extraordinary vocalist, Sara expresses herself in such a completely unique and gifted manner along with her angelic voice and delightful plucking of the keys. With no Grammy awards Under her belt, it’s miles surprising to see such skills not be rewarded for her awesome expertise. Sara currently stars as a choose on the Television show The Sing Off even as she keeps writing and appearing to her coronary heart’s choice.

1. Jason Mraz

Jason, after several years of recording and generating his expertly crafted track, ultimately received his first Top Ten hit in 2008 with “I am Yours”.simplest one Pinnacle Ten hit in almost 10 years of recording with such unique style? Fantastic. With such an extremely good tenor voice, Mraz is actually the Maximum Underneath-rated artist of Nowadays. His music offers his listeners a flavor of a huge variety of different genres starting from reggae to jazz, and all of the way to Some us of a and hip-hop. You could consider Mraz tune to be its personal genre of tune. Beginning with Waiting for My Rocket to come, Mraz introduces his fanatics to his style right away. Going from pop to country, all the way to reggae in his first album, Mraz burst onto the scene with his specific fashion. With four stay albums, Mraz remains one of the high-quality stay performers within the industry These days. appearing live is the ultimate test for any musician, and Mraz excels comfortably at exciting his enthusiasts with a fantastically crafted song accompanied by way of an angelic tenor variety and a strikingly professional guitar. Mraz breathes originality and ardor in his words and his song, making him the Maximum energetic and uniquely talented musicians inside the industry Today.

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For the reason that song enterprise is crushed with fake, automated tune, it’s miles up to the few artists that also have originality and skills to keep real track alive inside the world Nowadays. the tune should be the coronary heart of any musician, but modern-day requirements and desire to make a short dollar have confirmed music into that of simple mediocrity that has spread like an endemic thru the document labels and into the palms of techno beats and rap stars of These days. A special thanks are going out to all authentic musicians that keep music at the center in their hearts and Do not let present day industry corrupt all real tune. let the tune communicate a heartfelt message to anybody who listens. allow the passion drive it into the hearts of all listeners. allow it be what it needs to be: artwork.

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