#truly Rae you absolutely knocked this out of the park

[immortalcockroach]

Hi sweetheart! What about a modern Zaven fic where Raven is a young mother of a beautiful son & she's dating Zeke but he lied to her about going back to war and they have an argument about it because she truly care about him and be lighted up her world after Finn left her and she's scared to lose him? Bonus, it is set on the beach with a gorgeous sunset, to contrast the pain from their concersation. Haha, I love pain but they are the babes.

Hey, Anon! This was a very specific request and I hope I did it justice. The first part is the backstory so it’s a little bit slow, but the actual conversation absolutely breaks my heart.

 WE’RE ALL SURVIVING THE BEST WAY WE CAN

summary: Raven finds out that Zeke is going back to the Air Force and she can’t bear the thought of him leaving, too - not after he’s become to her everything her child’s father, Finn, couldn’t be.

pairing: Raven x Zeke

words: 2,522

read on AO3

When Raven met Zeke, she was at a very bad place in her life. At twenty-four, she had a two-year-old to look after and a job at a car repair shop downtown where she worked with sexist pigs, and an ex-fiancee who knocked her up and bolted into the arms of another woman.

Miles met him first. She lost him at the park and Zeke was the one who found him and brought it back to her, and took them for an ice-cream and lunch.

Miles adored him and Raven couldn’t say otherwise. He smiled brightly at them, tugged at Miles’s curls playfully, and he didn’t seem to have any ill intentions toward either of them.

Sometimes, Raven is surprised at the number of men who get off on young mothers with children, and she’s become wary of them over time.

There was nothing about Zeke that wasn’t genuine. When he offered them to get lunch again sometime, she accepted almost immediately.

Miles hugged him when they were leaving, and Zeke smiled, and when he looked at her, she could tell he was really hoping she’d call. That he’d see her again.

And really, she trusted Miles’s judgment. And was really lonely, and sad, and miserable, and longed to be able to have someone in her life who’d help her out because after Finn, her life consisted of work and Miles and having to take too many jobs to be able to pay the bills, and her social life was nonexistent.

Besides, Zeke didn’t seem to mind the fact she was a mother. If anything, he seemed to like that the two came in a package, and it wasn’t long before they were dating and he became more of a father to Miles than Finn ever was.

They moved in with him few months later, because Raven loved him and he loved her and even though they were young and probably rushing into things, she trusted him more than she ever trusted Finn and that was all she needed.

He knew her story. Only child, doesn’t know her father, raised herself because of a deadbeat mother, and didn’t go to college because her grades weren’t good enough since she spent most of her time working three jobs to pay for the bills and her mother’s debts. At eighteen, she started dating her childhood best friend and at twenty he proposed and at twenty-one she got pregnant with Miles, and he had to go to California for several months, and when she gave him a surprise visit, she found another woman in his bed.

She knew his story. Born and raised in Brooklyn, studied programming at MIT before deciding to be a pilot in the Air Force. Big, beautiful family of all intelligent and loving people, with a mother who died few days before they met, of breast cancer. One long-term girlfriend, but he didn’t want to continue the relationship while serving the country, and he came back from Afghanistan two months before they met.

After a year of living together, Raven feels like she can finally breathe again. She’s twenty-six with a four-year-old who treats the man he lives with as his dad, and Zeke treats Miles as a son. Miles has taken after Raven’s Hispanic complexion and has her curls, so when his old friends see him with Miles, nobody thinks he isn’t his.

In addition to that, Raven left her job at the mechanic and is studying part-time for a degree in the mechanics, even though she’s better than all her peers. She got a job at a prestigious car company and she’s met Monty there, who introduced her to Harper and Jasper and Miller and Jackson, all the people who are now a part of her and Zeke’s friendship group.

For the first time since she found out she was pregnant with Miles—or maybe first time ever, really—she’s truly, infinitely happy.

That’s why it hurts so much to confront him about the letter from the military.

And that’s why she confronts him about it while Miles is at Harper and Monty’s kid’s birthday sleepover, and she and Zeke have some time to themselves. They took a Harley to Brighton Beach and when Zeke left to get them ice-cream, Raven sat on the sand.

Right now, she feels heavy. It’s not the kind of sadness she’s used to, because she isn’t particularly sad. She lost the capacity to be sad when Finn ruined her and she promised herself she’d become stronger, never let anyone do that to her again.

It feels like walking for a long time, when your feet hurt and you know that walking doesn’t ease the pain, but you have a place you need to go to and sometimes your feet hurt.

Sometimes you ache, with a blank stare, trying to figure out the whirlpool of emotions inside you. To figure out where you are at this moment, at this place, with this person, and who you are in midst of all that. Sometimes, it’s acceptance that hurts more than the realization of impending loss.

Maybe it takes Zeke a long time to get the ice-cream, maybe every moment she spends agonizing over the future lasts a short eternity.

Raven runs her fingers through the sand. It’s brittle and warm, and she feels the dying sun on her face and can’t help but feel a different kind of heaviness weighing her down.

She doesn’t feel like crying. It feels too deep to be so shallow, it feels like a house ripped away from her and her roots snatched from the ground and she’s floating, and her body aches, and she feels it too deep to be able to cry.

Zeke planned it as a romantic getaway. Something they haven’t had in a long time, and as much as they love spending time with Miles, it’s beautiful to have moments like these.

Just the two of them.

And a letter from the military.

When Zeke comes, she can’t even bring herself to smile, or look at him. He tells her about the line he had to stand in, and stupid kids, and she hears the adoration in his voice he has every time he talks about kids. She knows he wants one of his own, one to be a brother or a sister to Miles.

He notices, almost right away.

“What’s wrong?”

‘Nothing,’ Raven wants to say, but it’s a lie too heavy. Her eyes are burning and so is her throat, but there are no tears threatening to fall.

She stares at the sun that’s turning orange. There’s people around them, kids playing, some even swimming, but it feels like they’re somewhere else. She can barely perceive what’s happening to her.

“I love you,” she says.

It’s not the first time she says it and it’s not unusual, but she’s certain he notices the way her voice cracks at the end of the statement. How she doesn’t look at him, how gravely her voice is. Maybe he even notices her fingers shaking, even if they’re buried in the sand or holding the cone.

“I love you, too.” He moves some hair out of her face. “What is going on, Raven?”

“I found your letter,” she says. “From the Air Force.”

She looks at him. He holds her gaze, for a second or two, before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and focusing on something behind her, anything but her.

“I was going to tell you.”

“When? You’re leaving in two weeks.”

Zeke opens his mouth, parts his lips in a way he does before he gives an excuse, but gives up and looks at the ocean instead.

There are still no tears threatening to fall, but Raven feels as if someone’s choking her.

She should’ve known when McCreary came over, and Zeke couldn’t fall asleep that night. When he was grumpy—and Zeke is never grumpy, not with her or Miles—and when he was quiet, and it was months ago.

She should’ve known he would want back in.

There are many reasons why Raven loves him and his hero-complex that he so vehemently denies is larger than most of them.

“You want to be the hero,” she states.

He doesn’t deny it this time.

She smiles, still. “You already are one. You’re Miles’s hero.”

“I know. And it’s more than I deserve. Sometimes it’s too much to bear, to know that this little, beautiful kid sees me as his hero when there’s so many better people than me out there.” Before Raven can protest, he continues, “It’s easier when you’re fighting a war for someone else, when you’re a hero without a name. Just a number.”

“You’re not just a number.”

“I am, Rae.” He brings a finger to her lips and brushes over them, glancing at her as if in fear of what happens next. “But McCreary and Diyoza and my team, they need me.”

“I need you.”

“You don’t,” he says. “You’re perfectly capable of living your life on your own.”

“I was giving up when I met you.”

“You were never going to give up. Finn fucked you up and ruined your self-confidence and shit, but you’re a great mother and a woman because you had to raise Miles on your own and he’s the best kid I’ve ever known.”

“He says that because he’s yours.”

Zeke smiles. “I wish he was, but he isn’t. But if I ever have kids, God, I want them to be raised by you. I want them to be kind and sassy and confident and stubborn just like Miles. Just like you.”

“Then why leave?”

This time, he doesn’t answer right away. He drops his hand from her face and puts it on his lap, and Raven resists the urge to hold it. To ask him to promise that everything’s going to be okay, that he won’t leave.

She knows better. She knows he can’t promise her that, because his team is as much family to him as she is.

Instead, she watches the sun. It’s closer to the ocean and it’ll start to set soon, and she wishes she could embrace the sight as much as she should. Without knowing he’s going to leave, too.

“Is there something wrong with me?” Her voice is quiet, almost inaudible, and she can’t look at him when she asks it. “Is that why everyone leaves? I become too much? Do I say stupid shit? Is there something I—”

She doesn’t realize she’s crying or that Zeke is holding her until she runs out of breath and she’s shaking in his arms, barely even feeling the warmth of his body. He smells like the garage, like his Harley, like the mint that’s planted all around their apartment because Miles loves it. He smells like home.

Raven doesn’t want to imagine a home without him.

His hands pull her closer when she starts sobbing, and she’s in his lap and he runs hands through her hair. She doesn’t even have the energy to hug him back, to wrap her hands around him and never let him go.

She doesn’t want him to go.

She doesn’t want to be left alone again.

She doesn’t want this.

He kisses the top of her head and she feels tears in her hair, too.

“You are perfect,” he whispers. His voice is hoarse and he’s about to break down, struggling to get the words out, but does it anyway. “You are kind and brave and intelligent and you don’t deserve any of the shit you’ve been through. You deserve to be treated right and I feel like I can’t do that, not yet. You’re a woman who knows what she wants and I feel like I’m not mature enough to be with you. Like I don’t deserve you.”

Raven parts her lips and tries to say something, but can’t. There’s nothing she can say that could convey the weight of the emotion she’s feeling right now.

Zeke pulls her even closer.

“This is my last time, but I need this. I need to sort my head through. It’s just six months, and then I’m done with it. But I want to figure out who I am before I can be the man you deserve.”

“I already deserve you,” she whispers.

“No,” he says. “Raven, you and Miles are the best thing that’s happened to me. And I want to have kids with you, more than we can handle. And I want to take you to my stupidly big family celebrations, and I want to let Miles take my name, and I want to marry you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“But you’re leaving.”

“Yes. But I’m leaving so I could come back a better man.”

“War doesn’t make heroes,” she says. “It ruins them.”

Zeke pulls her back, cupping both her cheeks, and makes her look at him. She hates the sight – he looks just as broken as she feels. Red eyes, skin swollen underneath them, and trembling lips, blushing cheeks. He looks like a mess, but it’s the mess she loves and can’t bear to lose.

“Listen,” he says. “I owe my team this much. And I’m not leaving. I’ll never leave you. I’ll write to you, I’ll call when I’ll be able to, and I’m not going to be another person who left you on your own because I’d rather die.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I’m serious.”

She can’t bear the thought of him dying. “Please, don’t say that.”

“Look at me. Rae, please. I love you, okay? You may not understand, but this is something I need to do. And when I come back, I’ll marry you.”

“What if I say no?”

“You’ll be too happy to see me to say no,” he says. He looks at her for a moment and realizes it was an attempt to make a joke, and his lips spread into the tiniest of smiles – but genuine. “I’m serious. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“But you didn’t tell me about this.”

“I’m sorry. It was shitty of me, but I didn’t know how to. I was going to do it today, and explain everything.”

“And propose to me?”

“No,” he admits, “that wasn’t a part of the plan. But I’ve been meaning to do it since the moment I realized you were Miles’s mother, because he was the best kid I’ve ever met and I thought he must have the best mother ever, and when I saw you looking stunning even though you looked like you were about to fall apart, I knew I was going to marry you someday.”

She smiles. Barely.

He’s leaving, but he’s not leaving. And he’s making a promise that he’ll come back.

“When you come back,” she says, “I promise I’ll say yes.”

When he kisses her, lips wet and salty with tears of goodbye, she knows she means what she said.

He’s not her dad, or her mom, or Finn.

He’s Zeke. And he’s never going to leave her.

#Anonymous #zaven #zaven fanfic #zaven fic #zaven fanfiction #ff: zaven #my fic #raven reyes #zeke shaw #miles ezekiel shaw #miles shaw #raven x zeke #the 100 #the 100 fic #the 100 fanfic #the 100 fanfiction #the 100 au #the 100 modern au #i forgive queue

[geneticandunattainable]

We’ve finally come to the top ten songs of 2017, and it’s been quite a ride.  My apologies for the delay in getting these published, but I remain convinced these next ten songs are well worth the wait.  Surprising no one, women dominate the top of this year’s list, with seven of the top ten songs featuring or led by female artists.  A surprise to many, including myself, is that four of the ten songs also come from artists with ties to North Carolina.  It would not have been possible for me to survive 2017 without these songs, and I’ve listened to all of them hundreds of times. You may have different reactions to this batch, but I have a hunch you’re going to be blown away.

10. Now, Now – “SGL” Minnesota is underrated as an incubator for music, but Now, Now is an exciting duo coming out of Minneapolis.  Cacie Dalager handles the vocals, guitar, and keyboard, while Bradley Hale focuses on the drums and backing vocals, but this is just the latest iteration of a band that’s been around for fifteen years.  Dalager and Hale famously met as classmates in high school marching band, but the sound on this record is light years beyond the work of teenagers.  They hadn’t released any new material in five years before last May, so music blogs were excited to have this slice of musical brilliance come out of nowhere.  “SGL” was a burst of fresh air right in time for summer last year, and it’s pop music at its absolute purest.  This is the kind of music that gets your heart pumping, music that’s meant for summers at the lake or bonfires on the beach.  The acronym from the title refers to “Shotgun Lover,” and has nothing do with marriage or firearms; Dalager is looking to put some heat on a relationship that started off as a simple fling.  Many of the elements on display here likely come across as familiar, like the clipped acoustic guitar progression, the slowly-building layers of atmospheric effects, and the subtle vocal manipulations. But when the drums kick in and she hits the chorus, you can’t help but find yourself swept along for the ride - perhaps sitting shotgun?  

9. K. Flay – “Blood in the Cut” Talk about the unlikeliest path to music - rapper/artist K. Flay started life as Kristine Meredith Flaherty in Wilmette, Illinois, a wealthy commuter suburb of Chicago before heading off to Stanford for undergrad.  While she was there, Flaherty cracked a joke to a classmate about how the hip hop songs she heard on the radio were all "simplistic, misogynistic and formulaic,” and that she could easily write similar songs without any issue.  Once she got on stage, she realized that she really enjoyed performing, and started shifting toward a full-time focus on music.  She’s been releasing music for years, but my favorite track by far has to be “Blood in the Cut” from last year’s Every Where Is Some Where.  Featured prominently during the end titles of a season four Bojack Horseman episode, the menacing lyrics practically growl at the audience, and there’s an incredibly cinematic tone to the entire song.  This track doesn’t sound it was crafted for television, but there’s a drama inherent in Flay’s lyrics - “Say a word, do it soon/It’s too quiet in this room” - show the boiling tension inherent in her vocals.  Every chorus is such a release, but she builds that tension to a raucous ending that captures you, heart and soul.  This is an angst anthem, a textbook entry for your workout playlist, and one of the best damn songs in years.

8. Sylvan Esso – “Die Young” When you grow up in North Carolina, you have a special place in your heart for artists from the home of Cook Out and Cheerwine.  This duo from Durham consists of Amelia Meath and Nick Sanborn, and they took over my phone, my car, and my brain this year with “Die Young,” an epically lush tribute to unexpected love.  As Meath coos in the lyrics, she had “it all planned/You ruined it completely;”  you see, she was going to die young in a blaze of glory so people would remember her forever.  Now that she’s fallen in love, her next chapter has been replaced and she wants more time with her partner rather than become a member of the 27 Club.  Make no mistake, Meath has written a love song, but there’s a funereal quality to the proceedings that syncs up flawlessly with the detached, synth-heavy production from Sanbord.  The looped samples work so well with the moody keyboards over the chorus, and you know I’m a sucker for a song that builds to a truly cathartic bridge.  At no point does “Die Young” disappoint; it’s the kind of instant classic that feels familiar the first time you hear it.  If Kesha hadn’t placed higher on my list, I’d make a snide comment about her own song “Die Young” being left in the dust.  If you’ve known me long enough, you know the thought remains regardless.  Ten years from now, we’ll still be listening to this haunting Southern banger.

7. Sampha – “(No One Knows Me) Like the Piano” If you’re going to make a long-awaited debut, you might as well lead with a hauntingly gorgeous song like this. London-based musician Sampha built his career for years behind the scenes as a producer, songwriter, and backing vocalist for artists like Kanye and Jessie Ware.  As he shifted toward fronting his own music, he sat down to craft an ode to the power of music itself, and knocked it out of the goddamn park.  There’s an entire narrative at work here, as Sampha spills his heart out about using music - and his mother’s piano specifically - to navigate through tough times.  As the song progresses, beyond the austere keys and euphonious vocals, a low key beat emerges, and he shifts into subtle electronic tinges, eventually closing out the song with the sounds of birds chirping in the forest.  Clearly he’s using the song to step into the spotlight, so to speak, but I think it’s more than that; this song brings peace, serenity, and a calming nature unlike anything I’m used to hearing.  What an amazing accomplishment.

6. Kesha – “Praying” I’m not exactly one to drop names, but I was living in Nashville around the same time as Kesha, as she grew up in the suburbs of Music City.  I’d heard some not so pleasant rumors about her behavior and the way she treated other people in the local scene, so when her debut single “Tik Tok” took over the world, I made a decision to sit her career out. I simply couldn’t understand why such a strong and intelligent woman - she was accepted to Barnard, people - was singing about getting black out at a club with the truly misogynist 3OH!3.  My heart went out to her when she sued Dr. Luke, though, and I quickly became riveted with the story.  As a fellow survivor of sexual assault, I found myself rooting for Kesha and eagerly anticipating new music.  While her latest album Rainbow was scattered, it could brag some absolute jams with “Woman” and “Learn to Let Go.”  That said, few songs in 2017 had the emotional impact for me of “Praying.”  This Grammy-nominated lesson in forgiveness is blistering, still bringing me to tears after hundreds of listens.  Kesha knows how to write her own songs, and it’s a thoroughly documented fact she’s been doing it for other artists for more than a decade.  That killer lyrical mind is on display here, too, but the background leading up to the song and the vulnerability on display here is nearly too much to handle.  I’ve heard mixed reviews of that whistle note, but you’re a total robot if you don’t respond when those drums kick in about two thirds of the way through “Praying.”  2017 was a year we’re all desperate to forget, but I’ll leave you with this: consider listening to “Praying” again, but imagine it’s Hillary Rodham Clinton delivering those lyrics instead.  I dare you not to weep.

5. Rhiannon Giddens – “At the Purchaser’s Option” Who knew that a guest star from Nashville was going to release one of the best songs from last year?  Even more surprising?  It’s a heart-wrenching tale of a slave woman’s refusal to fall apart in the face of some truly traumatic experiences.  For Giddens, an alumna of Oberlin’s Conservatory of Music, the Carolina Chocolate Drops, and the New Basement Tapes, it’s never really been a question of whether she has the talent.  At the ripe young age of 41, she’s already been inducted into the North Carolina Hall of Fame.  Some of us have been following her career for years, and were just waiting for that one break out song.  In a more ideal world, this exquisite nod to slave songs would have resulted in massive recognition for Giddens.  According to Giddens herself, the song comes from reading an advertisement for a 22-year-old slave woman, whose 9 month old baby comes with her “at the purchaser’s option.”  Her reaction to something so ghastly inspired her to write the song.  She recounts the life of a woman abused by the world of slavery who refuses to lose her soul in the process.  Again, for those of us who listen to the lyrics, she takes you through some heavy shit, including the rape of a young child.  If you’re one of those people who doesn’t really notice lyrics, though, there’s still plenty to love.  Guitar, banjo, percussion, vocals - everything is at the top of the game here.  In a song that could have easily been a theme for Lupita N’Yongo’s Patsy from 12 Years a Slave, Giddens proves she’s an artist that wants her career to mean something.  She’s already earned such an incredible legacy, and “At the Purchaser’s Option” shows she’s just getting started.

4. Rostam – “Gwan” It’s no secret to anyone who read these lists in years past that I have a massive crush on Rostam Batmanglij.  You may not agree that he’s a handsome fella, but I don’t really care, because so much of my crush originates in his musical genius.  Rostam’s career - starting as a core member of Vampire Weekend and moving on to producing artists like Carly Rae Jepsen or collaborating with Hamilton Leithauser - has been nothing short of phenomenal.  It almost seems like the man cannot stumble.  “Gwan” feels like a song that cannot be classified; some people hear Irish influences in the second half’s string breakdown, while others swear he’s alluding to more Eastern sources.  The Iranian-American artist, born in the D.C. area, has intentionally alluded to various cultures throughout his career.  As long as his music sounds this gorgeous, I have no horse in the race when it comes to the cultures he’s referencing.  Rostam’s lyrics reference an unspeakable connection, a relationship that defies explanation.  Ever since I first heard this song, it’s made me think of my best friend.  It certainly doesn’t hurt that said friend lives in New York, given the obvious Manhattan references in Rostam’s lyrics.  “Gwan” could be the soundtrack to a cinematic montage, it could be the first dance at a wedding, or it could accompany you for a walk downtown.  Regardless of how it infiltrates someone’s life, there’s little argument to be had here that Rostam remains at the absolute top of his game.

3. Kate Rhudy – “I Don’t Think You’re An Angel (Anymore)” Just because the top ten has a third act from North Carolina doesn’t mean I’m playing favorites here.  Kate Rhudy is only starting her career with the album Rock N’ Roll Ain’t For Me, but you wouldn’t be able to tell when you listen to this stunning track off of her debut.  She’s a recent graduate of Appalachian State University in Boone, a town known for its particularly crunchy hippie scene.  Despite the psychedelic tinges that signal the local sound, Kate stayed true to her roots, describing her own music as “sad river folk.”  People seem awed by the fact that Taylor Swift writes some of her own songs, but I prefer an artist who can write her own songs, sing them well, and even accompany herself on an instrument or two.  Rhudy puts Swift to shame with a slowed down Southern ballad about losing trust in your partner.  Do you want crystal clear vocals? Check.  How about a truly beautiful showcase for guitars and mandolin? She’s got that, too.  The entire album is jaw dropping as a debut, but “Angel” buries itself within you, it burrows deep into your soul in a way that few songs do.  As Rhudy herself has said about folk music, “It’s music that’s meant to be felt, not heard.”  She’s clearly accomplished that goal with this achingly bewitching song; in a weaker year, it easily could have been the best song overall.  For now, though, it will have to settle for years of inclusion on my favorite playlists.

2. Rose Cousins – “Freedom” Canada strikes again.  I have a deep-seated love for Canada that stretches back for eons, but I never really expected to find the Great White North’s answer to Patty Griffin.  Rose Cousins, who calls Halifax, Nova Scotia home, has a more soothing voice than Griffin, if not quite as distinctive. Her songwriting skills, though, are evidently on par with the folk/Americana legend, and I find myself blown away by the sheer scope of what Cousins has achieved with “Freedom.”  Every moment that you think you have your head wrapped around this song, it shifts from beneath you, transforming in real time.  It shifts from a slow tempo acoustic jam to a raucous breakdown, from Cousins’ lower register to true vocal fireworks.  She’s always been known for her clear-eyed melodies and the poetry of her lyrics, but I find “Freedom” to be a new height in her achievements.  It’s about the double-edged sword called choice that we navigate all too often, as she realized in a relationship, we often must give something up to achieve what we truly want.  Whether that means compromise, or leaving something behind entirely, the lyrics here are enthralling: “Well I pride myself in letting go/I'm better off and stronger alone/I've got my freedom from choices made/And freedom from being brave/Freedom.”  Yet her tone throughout is bittersweet.  I can acknowledge with far too much experience of my own that being on your own can vacillate between crushing loneliness and exhilarating levels of autonomy.  What Cousins has achieved here is a song that speaks to both sides of that coin at the same time.  There is acceptance here; acceptance that your choices have consequences, and that you’ll likely be fine in the long run anyway.

1. Ryan Adams – “To Be Without You” There are few memories from last year that I cherish more than the 14 hours or so I spent in Nashville on my cross-country move from Houston to Boston.  I was so excited to catch up with my good friend Maggie over sweet tea and queso at SATCo, and felt right at home in the town of my graduate school alma mater.  It had been far too long, and one of the most vivid parts I remember is pulling away from Maggie’s house the next morning. Facing down a stretch of winding mountain roads and another ten or eleven hours on the way to Richmond, I thought about my soundtrack.  With a cool, foggy November morning soaking my bones, I put on the one man I knew could keep me company over the next several hours of driving through autumnal Tennessee: Ryan Adams.  There’s something truly incredible about his consistency; the man’s released over a dozen albums, whether it’s solo work or paired with groups like the Cardinals or Whiskeytown.  His latest album follows quickly on the heels of 2015’s full-album cover of 1989 and his eponymous album in 2014, completing an arc of sorts with Prisoner’s clear 80s inspiration.  It was easily one of the year’s best LPs, and Adams’s first album of original material to follow his publicly painful divorce with actress Mandy Moore.  Without a doubt, “To Be Without You” jumped out of the speakers on my first listen back in February.  The song is deceptively uptempo since the lyrics are heartbreaking, leaning into the despair Adams felt after the dissolution of his marriage.  His arrangement is relatively subdued and radio friendly, utilizing guitar, percussion, and little else to focus on the true heart of the song: his pain.  “I feel empty/I feel tired/I feel worn/And nothing really matters anymore” are not the lyrics you’d expect from a song so melodious, but Adams is an expert at crafting songs and subverting expectations at this point in his career.  “I think the theme of this record is that we’re all prisoners of some desires, in that the very things we love are the things that hold us hostage and keep us trapped,” he told NME. “Either we are the cage or we’re in the cage and it’s trying to figure out in every situation which of those things is real.”  The themes work perfectly for life, love, and surviving 2017, and he created another instant classic with “To Be Without You.”  Hundreds of listens later, I still get completely sucked into it; clearly, that’s the true mark of the best song of the year.

#Music #Best of 2017 #Best Songs of 2017 #Now Now #K. Flay #Sylvan Esso #Sampha #Kesha #Rhiannon Giddens #Rostam #Kate Rhudy #Rose Cousins #Ryan Adams