#Bounce Music Mix 2022
Text
Saccharine Expressions.
my masterlist || ask me anything <3
authors note - enjoy 8k words of Harry grieving his wife.
trigger warnings - mentions of car crashes, hospitals, mentions of miscarriage and a shit load of angst. if you notice anymore triggers please let me know asap!
word count - 8k
in which, your husband postpones his american leg of tour because you get involved in a road traffic accident, resulting in you ending up in a medically induced coma, your husband and four year old comes to visit you everyday and they always have something new to tell you. this is everything that Harry experiences whilst you asleep, speaking to you whilst holding your hand, getting forced to eat because he doesn’t want to move and reassuring your son that mummy’s going to be fine.
12th August, 2022. — 14:47pm.
You had been looking forward to this moment all day. The afternoon sun cast a warm glow as you sat behind the wheel, cruising along the familiar roads on your way to pick up your four year old son, Alfie from school. The car hummed softly, the radio playing a cheerful tune in the background. The anticipation of reuniting with your little one filled the air, your heart light with the prospect of his laughter and stories from his day.
As you turned onto the street leading to the school, you imagined his face lighting up when he spotted your car. He would come running, his backpack bouncing against his small frame, his smile infectious. You couldn't wait to envelop him in a tight hug, his energy and innocence providing a welcome escape from the adult world.
The plan was to head to your husband's music studio, where he was getting everything ready for his American Leg of tour. It had been a while since the three of you had spent quality time together there, surrounded by the melodies that had woven into the fabric of your life. You had ordered takeout from his favourite restaurant, a little treat to celebrate a simple yet special evening.
The studio was your sanctuary, a place where your husband's creativity flowed freely. The walls were adorned with framed memories and records, a testament to his journey as a musician. Walking in, you'd inhale the familiar scent of music equipment and the subtle mix of coffee and old books. You'd settle into the cosy corner, watching as your son explored the room with wide-eyed wonder.
You'd listen to your husband's stories, sharing in his triumphs and frustrations. The music playing softly in the background would create a serene backdrop to your conversations, each note a reminder of the bond you shared. You'd laugh, you'd dance, and you'd cherish the time spent as a family.
But as the sun began its descent and the car continued down the road, fate had other plans.
Out of nowhere, a truck materialised in your path, its imposing presence casting a shadow over your joy-filled thoughts. Panic surged through your veins, your heart racing as you attempted to react, but time seemed to slow.
The impact was sudden and brutal, metal colliding with metal in a deafening symphony of destruction. Your world spun, and for a fraction of a second, everything went black.
Harry sat in the dimly lit studio, his fingers dancing across the keyboard of his laptop as he worked on everything that would be needed for the show in upcoming days. The soft hum of the air conditioning was the only sound accompanying his thoughts.
But then, a sudden interruption shattered his focus – his phone began to ring insistently, its vibrations causing it to skitter across the table.
Frowning, Harry picked up the phone and saw the school's name on the caller ID. He furrowed his brows, a sense of unease fluttering in his chest. He swiped to answer the call and held the phone to his ear.
" ‘ello?" he said, his voice a mixture of curiosity and concern.
"Hi, Is this Mr. Styles?" a voice on the other end inquired.
"Yeah, this is ‘im," he replied, his brows knitting tighter.
"I'm calling from LakeRidge school," the receptionist explained. "It seems there was a mix-up, and no one came to pick up Alfie today."
Harry's heart skipped a beat. "Wait, what? No one picked him up?"
"That's correct. We were trying to reach your wife earlier, but it seems no one was answering," the receptionist explained, her voice apologetic.
Harry's mind raced as he glanced at the time on his watch. You and Harry took it in turns to pick up Alfie from school. You did Mondays, Wednesday and Harry did Tuesdays and Thursdays. You both picked him up on Fridays. He ran a hand through his hair, his worry deepening.
"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice tinged with regret. "I'll be right there t’pick him up."
"Of course, Mr. Styles. We'll make sure he's safe until you arrive," the receptionist assured him.
"Thank you," Harry replied, his tone earnest. "I'll be there as soon as I can."
12th August, 2022. — 15:12pm.
The tires of Harry's car screeched as he quickly manoeuvred into a parking spot near the school. He barely had time to turn off the engine before he was out of the car, his long strides carrying him toward the school building. Panic surged through him with every step, a mix of worry and guilt propelling him forward.
As he burst through the doors of the school reception, his eyes frantically scanned the room for a familiar face. And there he was – his son, Alfie, standing near the reception desk, his face a mixture of relief and excitement as he spotted his father.
"Daddy!" Alfie's voice rang out, and he sprinted toward Harry with open arms.
Harry's heart swelled with a rush of emotions. He crouched down, his arms outstretched, and Alfie practically leaped into his embrace. Harry held his son tightly, a mixture of relief and remorse flooding his senses.
"I'm so sorry, buddy," Harry murmured, his voice filled with regret. "Me and Mummy should have been here t’pick y’up on time."
Alfie squeezed Harry even tighter, his small arms wrapping around his father's neck. "It's okay, Daddy. I knew you'd come."
Harry pulled back slightly, looking into his son's eyes. "Still, I should have been here f’you. I promise this won't happen again."
Alfie's face lit up with a bright smile, his forgiveness and trust shining through. "I love you, Daddy."
Harry's heart ached with love as he pressed a kiss to Alfie's forehead. "I love you too, more than anything."
After a moment of holding his son close, Harry straightened up and swung Alfie onto his hip. He gathered his son's backpack with his free hand and draped it over his shoulder.
"Ready t’go, bud?" Harry asked, his voice gentle.
Alfie nodded enthusiastically, his arms wrapped around Harry's neck. "Yeah!"
With Alfie securely perched on his hip, Harry made his way back to the car. He settled Alfie into his car seat, making sure he was buckled in safely. As he closed the car door, he leaned in to meet Alfie's gaze.
"M’really sorry about today, Alf," Harry said sincerely. "From now on, Me and Mummy will make sure were here on time t’pick y’up, n’matter what."
Alfie's smile returned, his eyes filled with trust. "I know you will, Daddy."
Harry smiled back, his heart full as he ruffled Alfie's hair affectionately. With one final glance, he closed the car door and walked around to the driver's seat.
Just as Harry's hand touched the ignition to start the car, his phone lit up with an unknown number. A sense of unease washed over him, but he quickly connected the call to the car's Bluetooth system.
" ‘Ello?" Harry said, his voice projected through the car's speakers.
"Is this Mr. Styles speaking?" a calm voice inquired.
Harry's brows furrowed as he gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter. "Yes, this is ‘im."
"Mr. Styles, I'm Dr. Parker from Willow Creek Hospital," the voice introduced itself. "I'm calling because you are listed as the emergency contact for (Y/N) Styles."
Harry's heart skipped a beat at the mention of his wife’s name, his thoughts racing as he tightened his grip on the phone.
"(Y/N)?" he repeated, his voice shaky.
"I'm afraid there's been an incident," Dr. Parker explained gently. "It would be best if we discussed this in person. Can you please come to Willow Creek Hospital as soon as possible?"
A surge of panic coursed through Harry's veins as he turned to look at the backseat, where his four-year-old was sitting. He reached out and gently grasped his child's small hand, his mind racing with worry.
" ‘hat happened?" Harry asked, his voice quivering.
"I understand your concern, Mr. Styles," the doctor replied, his tone compassionate. "I assure you, we will explain everything once you're here. Please, make your way to the hospital as soon as you can."
Harry swallowed hard, his mind a whirlwind of fear and confusion.
"Yeah, ‘kay," he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.
12th August, 2022. — 16:09pm.
The hospital loomed before Harry like an imposing fortress of uncertainty. He had hurriedly dropped off Alfie at his manager Jeff's house, making sure his son was safe and away from the unsettling environment of a hospital. Now, his heart raced as he rushed through the sliding glass doors, the sterile scent hitting him like a wave as he stepped into the hospital's bustling foyer.
His eyes darted around, scanning the signs that pointed the way to different wards and departments. But his mind was a blur, and he found himself striding over to the reception desk, his voice hurried and tense.
"S’cuse me," Harry began, his voice tinged with anxiety. "M’looking f’m’wife, (Y/N) Styles. Can y’tell me where she is?"
The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, looked up from her computer screen and offered a sympathetic smile. "Of course, sir. Let me check for you."
Harry's fingers tapped nervously on the counter as he waited, his gaze flitting around the lobby. The distant hum of footsteps, the occasional murmur of conversations – it all blended into a surreal symphony that only heightened his unease.
After a moment, the receptionist turned back to him. "It says on her notes that her doctor wants to speak to you before you l are updated on your wife, I’ll page her doctor and let him know your here, be will be out to speak with you shortly about your wife’s condition"
Harry's shoulders slumped slightly in frustration, but he nodded in acknowledgment. "Right. Thank you."
As he paced back and forth near the reception area, his mind raced with scenarios and questions. What had happened? Was (Y/N) okay? The minutes dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity, until finally, a doctor emerged from the corridor beyond.
"Mr. Styles?" the doctor called out, his white coat billowing slightly as he approached.
Harry's heart pounded in his chest as he turned toward the doctor. "Yes, that's me."
The doctor extended a hand, his expression a mix of professionalism and empathy. "I'm Dr. Parker. Please, come with me. We have a private room where we can talk."
Dr. Parker led Harry down a series of hallways until they reached a small, private family room. The air inside felt heavy with anticipation, and as Harry stepped through the door, he could hardly ignore the sense of foreboding that settled over him.
Taking a seat, Harry's hands trembled slightly as he looked at the doctor, his eyes wide and expectant.
"I appreciate your patience, Mr. Styles," Dr. Parker began, his tone gentle. "I know this is a difficult time, and I want to provide you with as much information as I can."
Harry nodded, his heart pounding as he held onto every word the doctor spoke.
"Your wife, (Y/N) Styles, was brought in unconscious after the car accident," the doctor explained. "Upon evaluation and a CT scan, we discovered a small bleed on her brain. It's causing increased pressure, and we're closely monitoring her condition."
Harry's breath caught in his throat, his fingers clenching into fists as he absorbed the gravity of the situation. His wife, the person he loved more than anything, was facing a critical health challenge.
"Additionally," Dr. Parker continued, "she has sustained multiple injuries. Her ribs are fractured, and she has also broken her femur."
The weight of the doctor's words seemed to press down on Harry's chest, his mind struggling to process the extent of his wife's injuries. Images of her vibrant smile, her laughter, and the moments they had shared together flashed through his mind, a stark contrast to the reality he was now facing.
"What... what’re the next steps?" Harry managed to ask, his voice quivering.
"We've already begun treatment for the brain bleed," Dr. Parker explained. "She's under close observation in the Intensive Care Unit. Our priority is to stabilise her and manage the pressure on her brain. Once that's achieved, we'll assess the best course of action for her other injuries."
Harry nodded, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. He wanted to be strong, for both his wife and their family, but the weight of the situation threatened to overwhelm him.
"Can I... can I see ‘er?" Harry asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Dr. Parker nodded understandingly. "Of course. We're preparing a room for you to visit her briefly. Please keep in mind that she's still unconscious, and we're closely monitoring her condition."
As the doctor led Harry through the hospital corridors, the journey felt like a surreal blur. He couldn't shake the fear that gripped his heart, nor the deep sense of longing to see his wife's face, to hold her hand and offer his unwavering support.
The door to the room swung open, revealing you lying in the hospital bed, surrounded by machines and monitors. Your face appeared peaceful, a stark contrast to the turmoil within Harry's heart. He approached the bed, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead.
"(Y/N)," Harry whispered, his voice laden with emotion. "M’here. I love you."
He held your hand gently, his grip offering both reassurance and a silent promise that he would be by your side throughout this challenging journey. As he looked at you, his heart swelled with a mixture of love and determination, a reminder that your bond was unbreakable, even in the face of adversity.
The soft beep of machines filled the room as Harry stood by your bedside, his gaze fixed on your still form. Dr. Parker joined him, his presence a mix of professionalism and empathy.
"Mr. Styles," the doctor began, his tone gentle, "I need to explain that due to the severity of (Y/N)'s injuries, we made the decision to place her in a medically induced coma."
Harry's heart sank at the doctor's words, his eyes widening as he turned to look at Dr. Parker. The gravity of the situation seemed to deepen with each passing moment, and the reality that you was facing a critical condition hit him like a ton of bricks.
"A coma?" Harry repeated, his voice barely audible.
"Yes," Dr. Parker confirmed. "Given the head injury and the need to reduce pressure on her brain, we initiated the coma to allow her body to heal and to give her the best chance of recovery."
Harry's hands trembled as he reached out to hold your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, his heart heavy with worry for his wife.
"I know this is incredibly difficult," Dr. Parker continued, his voice compassionate. "But the induced coma is a crucial part of her treatment plan. It will help minimise any further damage and allow us to closely monitor her brain activity."
Harry nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving your face. He felt a mixture of helplessness and determination, the need to be there for you overwhelming his thoughts.
"M’here f’er," Harry said, his voice firm. "Whatever she needs, I'll be here."
Dr. Parker nodded, his expression one of understanding. "Your presence and support are invaluable, Mr. Styles. We'll continue to keep you updated on her condition and progress."
Dr. Parker remained in the room, his expression a mix of concern and professionalism. After a moment of silence, he spoke again, his voice measured yet compassionate.
"There's one more thing I need to discuss with you, Mr. Styles," the doctor said, his tone somber.
Harry's head shot up, his eyes locking onto Dr. Parker's. A sense of dread gripped him, his heart pounding as he awaited the doctor's words.
The doctor's gaze met Harry's, his eyes conveying a mixture of empathy and gravity. "Were you aware that your wife is pregnant?"
Harry's brows furrowed in confusion, his mind racing to process the question. He shook his head slightly. "No, I wasn't."
Dr. Parker nodded, his gaze steady. "According to our initial assessment and subsequent scans, (Y/N) is approximately 13 weeks pregnant."
Harry's eyes widened in shock, his thoughts a jumble of emotions. The news hit him like a tidal wave, the realisation that not only was you facing a critical condition, but your was also carrying yours and his second child.
"She... she’s pregnant?" Harry managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.
Alfie was going to be a big brother.
"Yes," Dr. Parker confirmed. "The baby appears to be fine, given our initial scans. However, I need to be transparent with you, Mr. Styles. The circumstances surrounding the accident do pose a higher risk of miscarriage."
Harry's heart ached at the doctor's words, the weight of the situation heavy upon him. The room seemed to close in around him as he processed the reality of the delicate life that hung in the balance.
" ‘hat can we do?" Harry asked, his voice trembling.
Dr. Parker's expression softened. "Right now, the focus is on (Y/N)'s recovery. We'll continue to monitor both her and the baby closely. While the situation is delicate, we'll do everything we can to support their well-being."
Harry nodded, his thoughts a whirlwind of worry and determination. He glanced back at you, his hand instinctively moving to rest on your abdomen, as if trying to protect the life that was growing within her.
"Thank you, Dr. Parker," Harry said, his voice heavy with gratitude. "Please, do whatever y’can t’take care of them."
The doctor offered a reassuring nod. "We're committed to providing the best care possible, Mr. Styles. We'll keep you updated on any developments."
As the doctor left the room, Harry's gaze remained fixed on you, his heart a mixture of hope and fear. The journey ahead was fraught with uncertainty, but he knew that the love and strength the two of you shared would be his guiding light, illuminating the path toward recovery for both you and their unborn child.
Dr. Parker's steps had barely faded when Harry found himself whispering to the still room, his voice a mixture of desperation and raw emotion.
"Y’can't leave us," Harry murmured, his fingers gently brushing your hand. "We need you. Alfie needs you."
His voice cracked as he spoke, the weight of his words heavy in the air. He looked at your face, so peaceful yet distant, and a lump formed in his throat.
"Alfie can't grow up without a mother," Harry continued, his voice trembling. "I don't know what I'll do without you."
Tears welled in his eyes as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. He took a shaky breath, his fingers gripping your ones tighter.
"Y’everything t’us," Harry whispered, his voice barely audible. "We can't lose you."
The room was silent, the machines and monitors offering a haunting backdrop to his plea. Harry's heartache felt like an ache in his chest, a reminder of the fragility of life and the depth of his love for you and your unborn child.
DAY ONE. 13th August, 2022. — 07:54am.
As the first light of dawn filtered through the window, casting a gentle glow across the hospital room, Harry roused from his light slumber. He had spent the night in the chair beside your bed, his presence a steadfast symbol of his unwavering support. The machines continued their soft symphony, their rhythmic beeps and hums creating an almost surreal backdrop to the uncertainty that hung in the air.
A nurse, her footsteps soft and purposeful, entered the room. She moved gracefully, her experience evident in the way she approached your bedside and began checking her vitals. The machines responded with gentle beeps, their cadence familiar to Harry's ears by now. He watched the nurse's actions with a mix of hope and apprehension, his heart pounding in his chest.
As the nurse worked, her gaze shifted to Harry, and she offered a kind smile. "Good morning. Did you stay the whole night?"
Harry nodded, his voice hoarse as he replied, "Yeah, m’didn't want t’leave ‘er."
The nurse's gaze held a mixture of understanding and reassurance. "She's in safe hands here, Mr. Styles. We're doing everything we can for her."
Harry's grip on (Y/N)'s hand tightened, his gaze unwavering as he looked at the woman he loved. "I know, but I just... I can't leave her side."
The nurse nodded in understanding, her demeanour empathetic. "It's understandable that you want to be here for her. Just know that if you need anything – a drink, a meal, a moment to step outside – the nurses' station is just outside the door. Don't hesitate to reach out."
"Thank you," Harry said, his voice filled with gratitude. "I appreciate that."
With a final nod, the nurse completed her assessments and left the room, her presence a brief yet comforting interlude in the otherwise tense environment. Left alone once more with (Y/N), Harry's gaze returned to her face, his emotions a tumultuous mix of concern, love, and longing.
"Y’not alone in this," Harry whispered, his voice gentle. His fingers traced over her skin, the wedding band on her left hand a poignant reminder of the life they had built together. "We're in this together."
14:17pm.
Later in the afternoon, Harry's phone rang, shattering the quiet stillness of the room. His heart jumped at the sound, and he quickly retrieved the device, seeing his mum Anne's name on the screen. With a mixture of anticipation and trepidation, he answered the call.
" ‘Ey, Mum," Harry greeted, his voice laced with a hint of anxiety.
"Harry, love," Anne's warm voice came through the line, tinged with concern. "I saw the announcement about the tour. Is everything alright?"
Harry's eyes welled up with tears, his emotions still raw and close to the surface. He took a deep breath, his voice shaky as he replied, "No, Mum. Everything's not alright."
Anne's voice softened with worry. "What happened, sweetheart?"
Harry's voice quivered as he began to recount the events of the past day, from the car accident to (Y/N)'s injuries and the delicate situation with their unborn child. As he spoke, the emotions that he had been trying to hold back surged forth, and tears rolled down his cheeks.
"I just... I can't lose her, Mama," Harry choked out, his voice breaking. "And Alfie... I don't want ‘im t’go through this. I don't know what t’do."
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, a pause that carried a weight of empathy and understanding. Then, Anne's voice came through, filled with unwavering support.
"I'm catching the first flight out, Harry," Anne said firmly. "I want to be there for you, for Alfie, and for (Y/N)."
Harry's heart swelled with gratitude, his breath hitching as he wiped away tears. "Mum, y’don't have t’ I know y’have y’own commitments."
Anne's voice was resolute. "Harry, you're my son. Family comes first, always. I want to be there for all of you."
Tears welled up in Harry's eyes once more, this time fueled by the overwhelming love and comfort that his mother's words brought. He took a shaky breath, his voice heavy with emotion.
"Thank you, Mum. I... I really need y’right now."
"Of course, love," Anne replied gently. "I'll be there as soon as I can. Take care of yourself and Alfie."
18:30pm.
As the sun began its descent, casting a warm and soothing light across the hospital room, Harry remained rooted in his seat beside your bed. His unwavering presence was a testament to his devotion and concern for you, a quiet guardian watching over you as machines softly beeped and hummed in the background, a symphony of hope and uncertainty.
As the day's shadows grew longer, Harry turned his gaze to your serene face, his fingers still delicately entwined with your frail ones. With a tender smile, he began to speak, his voice a soothing balm in the hushed room.
"M’sun," he began, his words a blend of affection and determination,
His voice carried a note of eagerness, a glimmer of the future he envisioned. Gently, he reached out, his fingertips brushing against her hand as if conveying his sentiments through touch.
"When y’better we’ll go back t’England," he continued, a touch of excitement in his tone. "We'll leave everything behind f’a’while – the tour, the noise, the schedules. It can all wait. We can wait."
His gaze then shifted to her stomach, where their child was growing, a symbol of their love and resilience.
"N’this lil’one," he said softly, as though speaking directly to their unborn child, "we'll take y’to the places y’never seen. The countryside, the beaches, the parks. We'll have picnics and adventures. Your mum, I, and your big brother, Alf, we're going t’show y’the world."
A tender smile played on Harry's lips as he imagined the joy that such simple moments would bring to their son's life.
"We'll watch the sunset by the sea," Harry murmured, his voice an intimate whisper. "It'll be just the four of us, wrapped’n’blankets, sharing stories’n’laughter. We'll make memories that'll last a lifetime, (Y/N)."
His hand gently left hers and reached out, his palm resting tenderly on her stomach. The connection felt tangible, a bridge between the present challenges and the future joys they were determined to experience.
"We'll have all the time in the world," he promised softly. "Time for us, f’our family. No rush, no pressures. Just our love and the life we're creating."
DAY TWO. 14th August, 2022. — 08:03am.
The next day's gentle light filled the hospital room, casting a sense of quiet hope. Anne, Harry's mother, entered with a mixture of concern and determination etched on her face. Her gaze fell upon Harry, who remained hunched over in his chair, his fingers tightly interwoven with yours, and his eyes red-rimmed with sleeplessness. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she took in his exhausted appearance, noticing the telltale signs of strain.
"Harry," Anne's voice held both care and worry as she walked over. She crouched down next to him, gently touching his shoulder to get his attention. "Hey, love."
His eyes blinked open at her touch, his gaze filled with a mixture of surprise and relief as he registered his mother's presence. He managed a small smile, grateful for her being there.
"Mum?" His voice was hoarse, a mix of gratitude and exhaustion.
Anne offered him a soft smile, her fingers brushing a wayward strand of hair from his forehead. "I'm here, Harry."
He pushed himself up in the chair, a mixture of relief and emotions washing over him. He looked at his mother, his eyes red and heavy with sleepless nights, his exhaustion painted across his features like a canvas of worry.
Anne's eyes flickered with concern as she took in his appearance. "Harry, love, you look exhausted. How long have you been here?"
His gaze dropped, a mixture of guilt and weariness weighing heavily on him. "I... I haven't left ‘er side."
Anne's voice was a gentle mix of understanding and concern.
"Oh, Harry." She reached out, her hand gently lifting his chin, guiding his gaze back to her. Her fingers brushed away the tracks of tears that had silently fallen down his cheeks. "You can’t do this alone, my love."
He looked at her, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, his emotions finally bubbling to the surface. "I know, Mum. But I can't leave her. I can't..."
Anne's touch was soft as she cupped his cheek, her eyes brimming with motherly warmth. "Harry, you need rest too."
He turned his gaze back to yours, his expression one of intense worry and fear. "M’scared, Mum. Scared t’leave ‘er."
Anne's voice held a comforting note as she spoke. "I understand, H. But you need to recharge so you can be strong for (Y/N) and for Alfie."
His eyes met hers, his vulnerability shining through as his voice cracked. "Thank you, Mum. F’being here."
Anne's smile was tender, her thumb brushing his cheek as she wiped away a lingering tear. "Always, Harry. Always."
As their gazes held, the room seemed to fill with a sense of connection, the unbreakable bond of family reminding them that they were not alone in facing the challenges ahead.
Anne's voice held a reassuring note as she spoke once more. "Listen to me, Harry. You need to go home, get a shower, and spend some time with Alfie. He's probably got a lot of questions about where you and (Y/N) are. You can come back right after."
Harry hesitated, his eyes drifting back to you. "But ‘hat if something happens?"
Anne's hand rested on his cheek, her touch warm and grounding. "I'll be here the whole time. I promise, if anything happens, I'll call you right away."
The weight of Anne's reassurance settled over him like a comforting embrace, giving him the permission he needed to take care of himself and his family.
"Okay," he finally nodded, his voice soft and weary. "Okay, Mum."
08:58am.
Harry's car pulled into his manager Jeff's driveway, the engine's soft hum fading into the tranquil neighbourhood. He sat there for a moment, his thoughts a maelstrom of worry and uncertainty. This visit, intended to be a routine pickup of Alfie, had taken on a weight he hadn't expected. He took a deep breath, his grip on the steering wheel tightening briefly before he finally turned off the ignition. For a few lingering seconds, he sat there, his hands resting on the wheel, gathering his strength.
With a deep sigh, Harry opened the car door and stepped onto the pavement. Each step to the front door felt heavy, a silent acknowledgment of the upheaval that had consumed his life. Before he could fully process it, he stood before the door, his knuckles poised to knock. In that fleeting moment, he closed his eyes, as if hoping to find solace in the darkness behind his lids.
The knock resounded through the door, a signal of his presence. As he waited, his heart seemed to echo the rhythm of the universe, the anticipation hanging thick in the air. The door swung open, revealing Jeff, his manager. The lines of concern etched on Jeff's face reflected the tumult that Harry carried within himself.
"Hey, H," Jeff greeted, his voice a mixture of understanding and empathy.
Harry managed a faint smile, though the weariness in his eyes betrayed the facade. "Hey, mate. M’gonna pick up Alf and then take ‘im t’see ‘is mum."
Jeff's eyes softened, recognizing the weight Harry carried. "Yeah, he's inside. Come on in."
Harry stepped into the familiar surroundings, the walls of Jeff's house offering a silent embrace. He took a steadying breath, feeling the weight of his emotions press against his chest. A mixture of memories and apprehensions filled the air, an intangible current that Harry navigated with each step he took.
"Alfie, it's your dad!" Harry's voice carried a blend of warmth and longing, the words directed down the hallway where his son would soon appear.
From within the depths of the house, a small voice responded, "Daddy?"
Harry's heart skipped a beat at the sound of his son's voice. He waited, his gaze fixated on the hallway, his breath caught in his throat.
And then, as if from a distant dream, Alfie burst into view. His face lit up like the sun breaking through the clouds, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he saw his dad. "Daddy!"
A rush of emotion overcame Harry as Alfie ran towards him, his little arms wrapping around his legs in an enthusiastic hug. Harry's own arms encircled his son, holding him close as if he were his anchor in the storm. His eyes glistened with unshed tears, a mixture of relief and tenderness flooding his heart.
" ‘ey, buddy," Harry murmured, his voice tinged with both love and weariness. He knelt down, his fingers ruffling Alfie's hair with a gentleness that only a father could muster.
Alfie looked up at him, his eyes wide with curiosity. "Are we going somewhere, Daddy?"
Harry managed a small, affectionate smile, his heart a tapestry of emotions. "Yea’ Alf. We're going t’go home and then go and see someone."
Alfie's face lit up with a radiant smile, his excitement contagious. "Yay!"
09:16am.
Harry's car rolled to a stop in front of their home, the engine's soft purr fading into the tranquil surroundings. The journey from Jeff's house had been a mixture of quiet conversations and Alfie's enthusiastic recounting of his day. As Harry stepped out of the car, he glanced up at their home, a mixture of warmth and heaviness settling over him. The familiarity of the place was a welcome comfort, yet the weight of the situation cast a shadow over everything.
Alfie bounded out of the car, his small steps carrying a youthful exuberance as he rushed towards the front door. His laughter filled the air as he fumbled with the keys under Harry's watchful eye.
"Alright there, buddy?" Harry's voice carried a mixture of amusement and tenderness.
Alfie looked up at his dad, his eyes dancing with excitement. "Yeah, Daddy! Can we play pirates when we get inside?"
Harry's smile was fond, a genuine reflection of his love for his son. " ‘f’course, mate. We can play pirates."
With the door unlocked, Alfie swung it open with a triumphant grin, his youthful energy infectious. As they stepped inside, the house enveloped them in a familiar embrace, the creak of floorboards and the soft hum of appliances a testament to the life they had built together.
"Daddy, look!" Alfie's voice carried from the living room, his excitement tangible even from a distance.
Harry followed his voice and found Alfie standing amidst a makeshift pirate ship of cushions and blankets. A sense of warmth filled Harry's heart as he watched his son play, the innocence of childhood a precious balm against the storm of emotions that had consumed their lives.
"Great job, Captain Alfie," Harry said with a playful salute, his heart aching with both sadness and a fierce determination to be strong for his son.
As Alfie continued his pirate adventures, Harry's gaze lingered for a moment before he turned and quietly retreated down the hallway. He stepped into the bathroom, the door closing with a soft click. The sound of the running water provided a gentle rhythm, a backdrop to the thoughts that had been hovering at the edges of his mind.
The water cascaded over Harry's body, the warmth soothing his muscles but doing little to ease the ache in his heart. As he stood under the spray, his head bowed, tears mingled with the water, the release of his emotions a quiet catharsis.
He lathered up a razor and carefully shaved, the rhythmic motion offering a small sense of normalcy amidst the chaos. Stepping out of the shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and reached for another to dry his hair.
As he moved through the motions of getting dressed, his eyes caught his reflection in the mirror. The image that stared back at him was a complex tapestry of emotions – a father, a husband, a man who was holding onto hope amidst uncertainty.
The tears he had shed in the shower had left traces on his face, a silent testament to the pain he was carrying. But as he looked at himself, there was a quiet strength in his eyes, a resolve to be the pillar of support that his family needed.
With one last glance in the mirror, Harry stepped out of the bathroom, his footsteps carrying him back to the living room where Alfie's laughter echoed. The journey ahead was uncertain, but in the simple moments like this, Harry found the strength to navigate the storm, determined to be the anchor that held his family together.
10:01am.
As they sat in the back of the car, the engine's gentle hum providing a comforting backdrop, Harry stole a glance at Alfie. His son's curious eyes were fixed on the passing scenery, his mind likely filled with questions that he didn't yet know how to voice. Harry took a deep breath, his heart heavy with the task ahead.
" ‘ey, buddy," Harry began, his voice gentle yet tinged with a mixture of sadness and reassurance.
Alfie turned his head to look at his dad, his expression a mix of curiosity and trust. "Yeah, Daddy?"
Harry smiled, his eyes warm with affection. "Y’know how Mummy's not at home right now? She's in the hospital."
Alfie's brows furrowed slightly, his young mind processing the information. "Why is Mummy in the hospital, Daddy?"
Harry sighed softly, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel for a moment before he continued. "Well, y’remember when we talked about how sometimes people get hurt or sick, and doctors help them feel better?"
Alfie nodded, his gaze fixed on his dad's face, absorbing every word.
"Exactly," Harry affirmed. "Mummy got a lil’hurt, ‘n’the doctors are taking care of her t’make sure she gets better."
Alfie's expression shifted to one of concern, his eyes widening slightly. "Is Mummy going to be okay, Daddy?"
Harry's voice held a soothing tone, his hand reaching back to briefly squeeze Alfie's knee. "Ye’,buddy. The doctors are doing everything they can, and we're going t’visit her right now."
Alfie nodded slowly, the weight of the situation evident in his gaze. "Can I see Mummy, Daddy?"
Harry smiled softly, his heart aching at his son's innocence. " f’course, Alf. We're going t’see her together."
As they continued on the journey to the hospital, the atmosphere in the car was a blend of quiet anticipation and unspoken emotions. Harry's grip on the steering wheel was steady, his thoughts a mixture of concern for (Y/N) and a determination to provide comfort and reassurance to Alfie.
"Buddy," Harry said after a moment, his voice gentle, "if y’have any questions or if y’feeling worried, y’can always talk t’me. I'm here f’you."
Alfie's small hand reached out to grasp Harry's, his fingers curling around his dad's hand. "I love you, Daddy."
Tears pricked at the corners of Harry's eyes, his grip on the steering wheel momentarily tightening. "I love you too, Alfie. We're a team, okay? We'll get through this together."
10:35am.
Harry walked into the hospital room, Alfie nestled in his arms, their footsteps quiet against the linoleum floor. The room, typically a place of healing, was filled with an air of uncertainty and tension. Harry's gaze shifted from the floor to the sight that awaited them – you lying still on the bed, your eyes closed, your form a stark contrast to the vibrant woman he knew.
As they entered, Alfie's eyes widened, his gaze immediately drawn to the figure on the bed. He also noticed Anne sat next to the bed,However, this time, the usual excitement that would accompany seeing his grandmother wasn't present. His little body tensed in Harry's arms, his eyes fixated on his mother's still form, the weight of the situation settling over him.
"Daddy," Alfie's voice was a mere whisper, tinged with a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty.
Harry held him a bit tighter, his heart aching at the realisation that Alfie was trying to process what he was seeing. "Yea’, buddy?"
Alfie's small hand pointed toward the corner of the room, where Anne stood, her gaze filled with a mix of sympathy and love. Typically, Alfie would have dashed over to her with the energy only a child possessed, but now, he seemed frozen in place.
"Is that Grandma, Daddy?" Alfie's voice was soft, almost hesitant.
Harry nodded, his own eyes briefly meeting Anne's before he turned his attention back to his son. "Yea’, that's Grandma."
Alfie's gaze shifted back to you, his eyes filling with a mixture of emotions that were too complex for his young heart to fully understand. He looked back at Harry, his voice carrying a request that seemed beyond his years. "Daddy, can I go hold Mummy's hand?"
Harry's heart swelled with both sadness and pride at Alfie's resilience. He walked over to the bed, carefully lowering Alfie to the edge of it. "Of course, Alf. Y’can even give her a little cuddle, j’gotta be careful."
Alfie's tiny hand reached out, hesitating for a moment before he gently placed it on your hand, his eyes studying her features as if searching for a sign of life. His other hand rested on your arm, his touch gentle yet filled with an innocence that brought tears to Harry's eyes.
As Alfie leaned in, his small body pressed against his mother's, Harry stood beside them, his emotions a tempest within him. He watched as Alfie's head rested on your chest, his breaths steady, as if seeking solace in the closeness of his mother.
"Y’doing great, buddy," Harry whispered, his voice choked with emotion.
Alfie's voice was soft, a mixture of curiosity and longing. "Is Mummy asleep, Daddy?"
Harry's heart ached at the innocence in his son's question. "Yeah, Alf, she's asleep right now."
Alfie's gaze remained fixed on yours, his small fingers curling around your cold hand. The room held a fragile sense of connection, as if time itself had slowed down to honour the moment. In that stillness, Harry watched his son, his heart both heavy with grief and full of hope for the future.
DAY THREE. 15th August, 2022. — 14:12am.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the hospital room. Harry sat by your side, his gaze fixed on your still form, his thoughts a jumble of hope and uncertainty. Anne had taken Alfie back to the house, giving Harry some time alone with his wife.
As he sat there lost in his thoughts, the door creaked open, and a doctor entered the room. Harry looked up, his eyes meeting the doctor's with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity.
"Good morning," the Dr Parker greeted, his voice gentle and reassuring. “How’re you holding up?”
Harry managed a faint smile, his voice carrying a mix of gratitude and fatigue. "Doing m’best, thank you."
Dr. Parker nodded understandingly, his gaze shifting to your form before back to Harry. "I'm here to talk to you about the next steps. Given the circumstances, we'd like to perform an ultrasound to check on the baby."
Harry's heart skipped a beat at the mention of the baby. The mixture of hope and fear that had been his constant companion intensified. "F’course, whatever y’think is best."
A nurse entered the room, carrying the necessary equipment for the ultrasound. She smiled at Harry as she prepared for the procedure. "Hello, I'm Chloe. We'll make sure everything goes smoothly."
Harry offered a small smile in return although it never fully reached his eyes, his eyes shifting between the doctor and the nurse. "Thank you."
As the nurse prepped the ultrasound machine, Dr. Parker explained the procedure to Harry. "We'll be able to see the baby on the screen and check for any signs of distress or complications. It's a routine precautionary measure."
Harry nodded, his fingers involuntarily tracing patterns on your hand. "I understand."
The nurse positioned the ultrasound device on your abdomen, and the monitor came to life, displaying the fuzzy image of the baby. Harry's breath caught in his throat as he saw the tiny figure on the screen – their unborn child, a symbol of hope amid the uncertainty.
He watched as the nurse moved the device, the image shifting slightly, revealing more details of the baby. The room was filled with a tense silence, broken only by the soft hum of the machine.
"There we go," the nurse's voice was gentle, her expertise apparent in the way she manoeuvred the device.
Dr. Parker stood by, her gaze shifting between the screen and Harry's expression. "Everything looks good so far. The baby's heartbeat is strong."
A rush of relief washed over Harry at the doctor's words. He couldn't help but feel a swell of emotion, a mixture of awe and gratitude for the life that was growing within your body.
As the nurse finished the ultrasound, she smiled at Harry. "You have a healthy, strong baby here."
Harry's eyes were fixed on the screen for a moment longer, his voice soft. "Thank you."
The nurse and the doctor left the room, giving Harry some space. He turned his attention back to you, his hand gently resting on your abdomen. The image of their baby, captured on the ultrasound screen, held a promise of better days ahead. As he sat there, a sense of determination settled within him, a resolve to be strong for his family and to hold onto hope, no matter the challenges they faced.
15:05pm.
Later in the afternoon, the room was bathed in a soft, warm light. Harry sat by your bedside, his gaze shifting between your still form and the monitor that displayed the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. The room held a hushed stillness, as if time itself had slowed down in the face of the uncertainty that lay ahead.
Harry's hand rested on your stomach, his touch gentle yet filled with an unspoken tenderness. As he looked at the monitor, his thoughts drifted to the tiny life that was growing within your – their unborn bundle. His heart swelled with a mixture of love and protectiveness.
" ‘Ey there, little one," Harry's voice was soft, his fingers tracing patterns on your abdomen. "Y’mum and I, we're here f’y’We're going t’be strong, just like y’mum."
His gaze shifted to your face, his heart aching at the sight of the bruises that were slowly starting to become more prominent. He reached out, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead. "Y’mum's the strongest person I know, y’know? She's been through s’much, and she's still fighting. Y’going t’be just as strong as her."
A soft smile tugged at Harry's lips as he imagined their future together as a family of four. He leaned down, his lips pressing a tender kiss to your stomach, as if to convey his love and hope directly to their unborn child.
"Y’not alone in this, lil’one," Harry continued, his voice carrying a mixture of reassurance and determination. "We're all in this together. And when y’ready t’meet the world, y’have a whole lot of people who love ye’."
As he spoke, the room seemed to hold a sense of promise, a quiet sanctuary where his words held the power to bridge the gap between the present and the future. Harry's hand remained on your stomach, his touch a physical connection to the life that were growing within her.
"We're going t’get through this, y’and me and y’mum," Harry's voice was a whisper, as if sharing a secret with the unborn baby. "And when y’mum wakes up, we're going t’tell her all about ye’. She's going t’love y’so much."
Harry's gaze shifted back to your face,his heart filled with a mixture of longing and hope. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Hang in there, love. We're all waiting f’you."
As Harry's words hung in the air, the room seemed to hold its breath, as if the universe itself was listening to his heartfelt monologue. His hand remained on your stomach, his touch both tender and resolute. He leaned in, pressing a final kiss to your forehead, a mixture of emotions welling up within him.
And then, in a moment that felt like a miracle, your hand twitches in his hold.
Harry gasped, his heart leaping in his chest. He stared at your hand, disbelief and hope warring within him. Before he could react, the heart rate monitor suddenly went off, the rapid beeping filling the room with urgency.
With a sense of determination, Harry bolted out of the room, his heart pounding in his ears. He found Dr. Parker in the hallway and quickly explained what had just happened – how your hand had moved, triggering the heart rate alarm.
Dr. Parker's eyes widened in surprise and excitement. "Let's not waste any time. Come with me."
Harry followed the doctor back into the room, his pulse racing as they reached your bedside. A sense of tension hung in the air, a mixture of anticipation and trepidation.
Dr. Parker approached the heart rate monitor, checking the readings and your vitals. His expression was a mix of concentration and cautious hope. He adjusted a few settings on the machines, his fingers moving with practised precision.
"She's trying to breathe on her own," Dr. Parker said, his voice carrying a note of astonishment. "Her body is responding to stimuli."
Harry's heart swelled with a mixture of joy and disbelief. He looked at your figure, his fingers gently brushing against your hand. "Y’doing it, m’love. Y’fighting."
Dr. Parker continued his assessments, his focus unwavering as he monitored the changes in your condition. The room seemed to vibrate with a newfound energy, a sense of possibility that had been absent for so long.
As the minutes ticked by, the heart rate monitor displayed a steadier rhythm, and Dr. Parker nodded in approval. "She's showing signs of improvement. She could wake up at any moment. It's a positive step forward."
Tears welled up in Harry's eyes, his voice choked with emotion. "Thank y’Doctor."
18:45pm.
The hospital room was cocooned in the gentle embrace of the night. The soft glow of the dimmed bedside lamp cast a warm and soothing ambiance, casting delicate shadows across the walls. The rhythmic beep of the heart rate monitor punctuated the stillness, a reassuring reminder of the life that pulsed within the room.
Alfie sat nestled on his father's lap, his small frame comfortably settled against Harry's chest. The hospital chair cradled them both, a makeshift throne where father and son formed an intimate fortress of love and togetherness. Harry's arms wrapped protectively around Alfie, holding him close as they shared the moment.
Alfie's concentrated expression was etched with a mixture of focus and determination. His tiny fingers clutched a pencil, his brow furrowing as he tackled the math problems that were laid out before him on the sheet of paper. Harry watched with a blend of admiration and amusement, his heart swelling at the sight of Alfie's dedication.
"Okay, buddy," Harry's voice was a gentle blend of guidance and encouragement, "y’got this. J’add those numbers together."
Alfie's tongue peeked out from between his lips as he concentrated, his eyes narrowing in concentration. The tip of the pencil move with purpose, crossing out digits and jotting down numbers. Every so often, Alfie would glance up at Harry, his gaze seeking validation and assurance.
Harry's fingers gently brushed the back of Alfie's head, offering silent encouragement. "Y’doing great, Alf. Keep going."
The two of them formed a heartwarming tableau, a portrait of fatherly support and shared effort. Amid the beeping monitors and the hushed hum of the hospital, Harry and Alfie created their own small world, a world in which challenges were met with determination and love was expressed through shared moments.
And then, in the midst of the quietude, a movement caught Harry's attention. His eyes shifted from the maths problems to the bed, where you lay, and his heart ricocheted against his rib cage.
Your eyes were open and staring at your two boys.
“(Y/N)?” Harry spoke in a hushed whisper as you tried to smile at him.
#musicforastylesrestaurant#harry styles#harry styles angst#harry styles au#harry styles blurb#harry styles fluff#harry styles imagine#harry styles masterlist#harry styles fake ig#harry styles headcanon#harry styles x oc#harrystylesdrabble#harry styles fake social media#harry styles writing#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#harrystylesxreader#harry styles one shot#harry styles x yn#harry’s house#harrystylesxyn#dad!harry#dadrry#harrystylesangst
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
youtube
#future house#bigroom#bigroom house#house music 2022#house mix#house mix 2022#future bounce#future bounce mix#dance & edm#music#music mix#long mix#edm#electronic#house & bounce#melodic#melodic music#radio#ncs#no copyright#umusic#u music#umusic records#electron project#electronproject#Youtube
0 notes
Text
Thigh Mega Tampon
Kinktober 2022
Day Sixteen
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Words: 1,954
Warnings: Drunk sex, dirty dancing, one night stand, strangers, outdoor sex, table sex, almost getting caught, shotgunning, underage drinking, smoking weed (duh), clumsy sex, spit, packing ruined orgasm
Request: No.
Summary: You thought the party was a bust... until it ended.
A/N: This one was kinda hard to do, ngl.
Ko-Fi
Commissions
(Not my pics)
18+ ONLY
---
"Whoo! Kappa Beta Gamma, forever!"
You cringed at the drunken scream of the large, blonde man. Watching as the cheap beer sloshed out of his red cup, splashing across the floor and soaking into his white shirt.
"God, I can't believe I'm here."
A chuckle from your side, "You were the one who suggested coming to this thing."
"Yeah, because I wanted to find someone to hook up with. Not to be surrounded by drunken frat boys."
"Gee, thanks," Wanda sassed humouredly.
You scoffed at the brunette, "Don't act like you're not here for the same thing."
"Only if I find someone who takes my interest," Wanda tried, raising her nose into the air, peering away from you.
The chuckle that bubbled from your chest couldn't be controlled, shaking your head at your friend. Before you followed her line of sight, only to find a college student drinking and conversing with his friends.
"Ah, seems you've already found someone already," you noted with a nod, "You really are picky, aren't you, Wands?"
Your reply was a swift jab into your ribs with her elbow, huffing as you watched her walk away towards the blonde man.
"And then there was one."
With a sigh, and your hands on your hips, you surveyed the bouncing frat house. Spotting partygoers dancing, playing beer pong, practically having sex in every corner, pounding drinks and shots in the kitchen. And some, even taking their escapades up the staircase, heading towards the many bedrooms.
Deciding you needed a drink to get through this, you made your way into the kitchen filled with bottles of liquor lining the counters.
"You wanna pour me one of those too?" a husky voice came from behind you, making your brows raize and peer over your shoulder.
With that one look, you already had your sights set on her. Hoping to take her home later that night.
With her fiery red hair, piercing green eyes, and full lips.
What could you say? You were a sucker for a pretty girl.
You raised the vodka for her to see, lightly shaking it side-to-side. You asked, "You want it mixed with anything?"
"No."
Your eyes glanced the girl up and down, evaluating if she could take straight vodka or not, especially with her short size. Which she picked up on. Easily. Ticking a brow at you, daring you to speak your judgements.
"You sure?"
"I'm Russian," she replied with a hand on her hip, "I can handle straight vodka. I was drinking it while you were still drinking apple juice."
"Your poor liver," you said dryly, pouring some vodka into a red cup before handing it off to her.
The red-head shrugged, slowly drawing the alcohol to her lips as she spoke, "It mainly just gave me a high tolerance." She then threw you a wink. "See you later, sugar."
You licked your lips as you watched her walk from the room, heading straight to where college students were dancing close together, and the bass-filled dance music shook the room.
Almost as if she could feel your eyes on her, she looked over her shoulder, sending you a smirk, before she quickly moved to dance with her friends.
With that look in her eye and the smirk pulling against her lips, you gathered that she was interested in you too.
Hours dwindled by, and you proceeded to get drunker and drunker. A buzzing filled your body, along with a clouded mind.
You had found your way back to the red-head, who you had poured a drink for, hands pressed to each other's bodies as you danced close together, drink in hand, further inhibiting your senses, as the woman only intoxicated you further.
The bouncing music could be felt in your bones, her chest pressed against yours, arms thrown over your shoulders, drink hanging loosely at your back, her free hand threaded into your hair.
No words had to be spoken between the two of you. Like magnets drawn to one another, you were slowly pulled towards the red-heads lips.
Sadly, her friends pulled her away before your lips ever met hers, dragging her away to talk to a group of guys while she peered over her shoulder towards you, lips formed into a frown, silently apologising to you.
You couldn't believe how hard you were getting cockblocked.
With a shake of your head, you decided to refill your drink, hoping to quench your thirst for the red-head with more alcohol.
Hours later, the party was dwindling down in the early morning hours.
You hadn't seen the captivating woman you had hoped to take home that night since her friends had stolen her away from you.
Wanda had gone back to the blonde's apartment, wishing you luck on your own escapades.
The air was chilly, and the sky dark. A light breeze, cutting through those outside, you being one of them. Dressed in only a T-shirt and jeans, you were able to withstand the cold biting air. Blowing out puffs of sweet, earthy-smelling smoke, looking like fog surrounding the darkened trees, before disappearing.
"You're still here?" It was more of a statement than a question.
Looking up and to the side, you found Natasha watching you with a small smile on her face.
Throwing her one back, you asked, "And so are you. Should I be worried that your friends will come by and sweep you away again?" you finished, taking another drag of your joint.
"No." The red-head chuckled, shaking her head as she moved to sit down beside you. "They've all gone home or to guys' places."
"And they left you all alone."
"You're alone, too."
"Touche," you chuckled, "Why'd they drag you off anyway?"
"They were trying to set me up with a guy who's had a crush on me for years."
"And you don't like him back?"
"He's not my type."
With the way the red-head looked at you, it felt like her green eyes were staring deep into your soul, warming you up in the cold night. Her shoulder leaned into yours, telling you all that you needed to know.
Sending her a smile, you offered her the joint.
"I've never smoked weed before," she uttered almost bashfully.
"But you've been drinking vodka for how long?" you joked.
She rolled her eyes, "Shut up."
"Come 'ere." You motioned her towards you, gesturing for her to turn towards you. Pulling the joint from your lips, taking another drag. "Open your mouth."
When she did, you held onto her jaw, pulling her closer to you so that her lips brushed against yours. Automatically, she inhaled the smoke you blew out for her, pupils blowing wide with how intimate and seductive the action was.
"Will that even work?" she asked, blinking heavily.
"How about I keep doing it, and we can see?"
The red-head solidified your suggestion with the kiss that you were both desperate for on the makeshift dancefloor, tasting the weed on your lips, more so on your tongue.
She wasn't high, not really, but she was drunk. Not so much that she was swaying and wouldn't be able to remember anything the next day. You were in the same position, only with the added fuzziness that the marijuana had given you.
The partygoers had been playing beer pong outside hours before, when the part was still buzzing, and there weren't people passed out around the large frat house. The only people awake and still present were the ones busy cleaning up some, and the two pressed against the beer pong table around the scattered plastic cups on the ground.
The red-head panted against your lips as you pressed her into the table, her legs wrapped around your waist, holding you close as you rutted into her. Shirt pushed up, bundled just under her full breasts. The hot, taught skin of her abdomen reviling in the cold air.
You peppered kisses down the side of her neck, humming into her skin, sending vibrations through her body. Causing her back to arch, pushing her chest into you, hips grinding into you further.
"You're so fucking hot," you spoke into her neck, "The minute I saw you, I knew that I wanted you." A heavy kiss to her full lips. "You're fuckin' captivating."
"I felt the exact same way," she uttered, holding your cheeks between her palms, pulling your lips with every kiss, "You were stupidly hot pouring those drinks. I wanted to jump you right then and there. Take one of those rooms up for the night."
"I would have let you."
She giggled as you began unbuttoning her black jeans, which she quickly helped you tug them from her body, along with her underwear. Leaving her fully naked from the waist down.
Leaning down, you spit a great glob of saliva against the red-head's clit, rubbing two of your fingers against the nub as she whimpered before you quickly thrust into her.
The table rocked and creaked underneath as you pounded her into the hardwood. Strap, slipping and sliding within her, her wetness making it pop out and land on her clit, thrusting into it a few times before you stuffed her full once more.
The red-head's legs were thrown over your shoulders, calfs resting on them, the girl bracing herself against her forearms, pushing herself up to meet you in passion-filled kisses, separated only by gasps and whispers of pleasure.
You couldn't help but scatter kisses across her bare chest. Shirt hiked up high above her breasts, cups of her bra pulled down under them. Taking a nipple into your mouth, you sucked against the sensitive flesh, making the woman groan into the early morning air.
Feeling the sharp tug against the back of your hair, you removed your lips from her tit with a pop, peering up at the red-head, letting her pull you into another hot and heavy kiss.
"Oh, holy shit," she whined against your lips, rearing down against each of your thrusts, one arm bracing herself behind her, as the other still held onto the back of your head, "I'm so fuckin' close. I'm gonna come- Please make me come."
You smirked against her plump lips, hips speeding up to do as she wished. Until that lust-filled haze was lifted and instead was replaced with cold panic, as far-off voices could be heard nearing the backyard.
The red-head's eyes matched yours, blowing wide with fear of possibly getting caught in the next few seconds.
Quicker than you ever imagined, you pulled your clothes back on. Well, yours was easy to solve. All you had to do was shove your strap back into your pants and pull them back up your thighs.
However, the woman you had the pleasure of fucking had a much bigger task. She pulled her bra up and tugged her shirt back down, that was easy enough. She chose to skip the underwear altogether and instead jump straight into her jeans. Her red panties being shoved into your hands, she quickly grabbed her discarded shoes, and you both ran from the garden just as the students rounded the opposite side of the frat house.
You had the girl pressed up against the white slats of the building, giggling into each others skin at the close call.
"I'm Y/N, by the way," you panted against her chest.
The red-head giggled into the sky, slowly turning into lighter shades of blue, as the sun rose over the college town.
"I'm Natasha."
"Well, Natasha." You removed yourself from her, hazily grinning up at the beautiful woman. "Do you wanna come back to my place so we can finish this off?"
Her sultry smile was the only answer you needed.
---
Permanent Taglist:
@imnotasuperhero, @veteranwerewolf95, @marvelfansince08love, @higherfurther-romanova, @lesbian-x-blackwidow, @sestra-inestro, @thelastavenger-3000, @mixed-fandom-mess, @wannabe-fic-reader, @vancityfire13, @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday, @007giu, @fayhar, @xxromanoffxx, @poptartpoppyy, @wlwfanfictionss, @diaryoflife, @pointconji, @readings-stuff, @tokyo-liv, @imadethisblogbecauseiamasimp, @natashaownsmyheart, @marrymemcgrath, @scorpiosloveletter, @idkevenfuckenknow, @wandanatfan, @izalesbean, @iblameitonclint, @bizarrealex, @lorsstar1st, @bak3rio, @heybitches-amirightbitches, @lokisjuicyass, @marie-yt-blog, @mrswandaromanoff, @red1culous, @justyourwritter69
#original work#original fanfiction#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff#marvel#MCU
377 notes
·
View notes
Text
Review: Keep On Ramblin’
It’s been a big year for Radio Company! They had their first live concert on December 19, 2022 where they debuted two songs from a new album to be released early the next year. That day has come, so let’s dive on in! Is it worth the listen?
This new release does not follow Radio Company precedent. Instead of being called the expected Vol. 3, the album has an actual name: Keep On Ramblin’. From what I can find, the reason for the change is that this album was planned to depart from Radio Company’s usual style of rock and jazz and instead lean more into bluegrass, folk, and especially country. Keep On Ramblin’ is being presented to us as a completely different project, but it doesn’t look that much different in terms of construction; the album still only has 10 tracks – same as Vol. 1 and one more than Vol. 2. The run-time is just slightly longer than either of its predecessors: Keep On Ramblin’ is just over 38 minutes long, more than Vol. 1’s 36 minutes and Vol. 2’s 34 minutes. Also notably, the longest song on the album is 5:39, a length that Radio Company has never attempted before. The shortest is under 3 minutes long at 2:58. The final track off of Vol. 1, Dume, is the only song in their catalogue that’s shorter. There is quite a range in the material to go along with the style shift.
For anyone that cringed when they read “country,” hang in there. I can only assure you that this isn’t Blake Shelton country, this is Emmylou Harris country. It’s not Dolly Parton, but maybe a little Loretta Lynn (if we’re being generous). I’m going to tell you now: if you don’t like country music, then you’re not going to like this album. It is going to bore you and sound a little kitsch. I also don’t think that it will convert anyone that might not have enough exposure to country music to actually like it. This album is clearly made for people that already relate to this kind of thing, and it doesn’t try to ease you in.
MUSIC
This is immediately clear from the first track, Right Kind of Trouble, which I can really only describe as hokey. This one is not like Radio Company’s usual openers, which are pretty gut-punch strong. This is a much slower take, almost bumbling, featuring Steve and Jensen in equal measure. Even though it plays to the beat of a horse rider bouncing in their saddle, it does still manage some cool electric guitar around the 1:40 mark. The tempo also starts to increase around 2:25 after a pretty nice instrumental buffet, and it is undoubtedly the best part of the song as the power builds.
While there are still some traditional rock notes as somebody shreds a guitar in the background, that opening twang never goes away. And Forever Ain’t Long slows down the pace enough that you can really get used to it. This is the first real slow dance scene song on the album, the kind of thing that plays at the end of a wedding reception by the time most people have already gone home. Jensen takes lead on this one, and his voice is really steady in this middle melody; this is the sweet spot for him and he sounds pretty professional on this one.
One problem that I have (which will recur throughout the album) is that Steve’s harmonizing doesn’t always feel super intentional here. It’s a little limp in the background and keeps fading in and out. I’m not sure if this was an intentional mixing choice, but if it was then it wasn’t a good one. The choir coming in behind for the bridge almost makes up for it.
Around the 1:45 mark, we get a surprising piano solo, which is very much giving saloon. You really don’t hear many of those too often anymore (though maybe there is a reason for that), and it’s admittedly a pretty fun touch. We get some more traditional guitar solos later, but this one stands out for the group. This definitely is not a modern or hip album, and it’s not trying to be.
Steve takes over for Every Light, with its now customary twang, while Jensen takes a higher register in the back. At this point, I’m still a little confused about the harmonies; they lack some commitment beyond the first track, which is unusual for this genre! For a two-piece set, Radio Company is making duets that aren’t really duets, and that feels like a mistake when you’ve chosen the perfect vehicle to deliver that. There’s also not much call and response – another staple of folk country. Look at something like Golden Rings for example and look at how strong both parts could be.
Maybe downplaying the country duet is Radio Company’s way of “modernizing” country, but I think that if you’re going to make an old-fashioned album then you need to commit to an old-fashioned sound. Turn up the mics, you cowards!
That being said, the fiddle rocks. The most interesting part of this song is the belting repetition at 1:54, but then they never do it again? What was that even about then? The whole song is as flat as a midwestern highway without the instrumentals cutting in.
The first major departure (and the first thing I’m actually impressed by) comes with Ain’t No Tellin’, which opens with an organ. The notes are much softer and more graceful than anything else so far, and Jensen takes the lead with an incredible head voice that sounds just beautiful. The longest song on the album is long for a reason; it starts as church music that slowly transforms into a solid electric guitar solo, and we even get a brass section coming in towards the end. It’s the most complex song that actually takes itself seriously, and I think we could have pushed it even further: a more sustained choir, longer solos, more, more, more!
I’m impressed by how much Jensen’s vocal ability has improved based on this song alone. Listen to 3:40 to 3:46 with that sustained note and then the run immediately after – he’s exercising a lot more control than in the past, even at 4:25 when he starts to get more gravely the way he likes to do but can’t always achieve.
This song is worth all 5 of its minutes, which I rarely say about songs that long. I love the slow fade out at the end but hate Jensen’s forced laughter at 5:19, which brings us right back into the realm of cheesy again.
...Which is probably a good thing seeing as the next song is You Made Me Blue, a Steve song that doesn’t fit with Ain’t No Tellin’ at all. It’s got some more fiddle on it, which I do like, but the lack of transition kind of ruins the vibe. And I thought we were doing so well with that this time around!
This is a square dance song that’s extra good for stepping. It’s really charming in its own way, and I’m weirdly endeared by this one. Maybe because I love Blue Kentucky Girl so much? These opening harmonies feel intentional, which is immediately more country to me (and they even do call and response later in later choruses)! It starts like that anyway, but then as the song goes on the harmonies get pushed to the back again. Steve fronting with Jensen being soft and weak in the background is not a formula I super enjoy; I’ve said before that Steve’s vocals are almost too clean and I reiterate that here. Still, I actually like this one for how distinctive it is.
The title track, Keep on Ramblin’, is fine but reminds me of an old complaint... inconsistent capitalization. In the title of the album, the word “on” is capitalized, but in the song title it isn’t. That’s weird, man! Hire an English major!
Jensen fronts here in a pleasant register with a richer tone than Steve’s, but he’s not pushing himself. It’s a little boring. There’s some nice picking around 2:20, and the backing vocals are giving me I’ve Just Seen a Face, but the Dawn & Hawkes cover. Like, listen to 0:47 – 1:02 of Keep on Ramblin’ and tell me you don’t hear that. Those are all the parts that stand out to me on this one.
Sadly there’s no Akon to be found on Sweet Escape, and to be honest, I’m getting bored at this point in the album. The truth is that most of these songs sound really similar to each other and I can’t remember most of them except for Ain’t No Tellin’ and You Made Me Blue, which are really clearly distinguished from one another. The rest all follow a pretty standard formula. I’m not sure if this is an issue with the quality of the music (probably) or if it’s just a matter of sequencing (definitely) – but there isn’t enough variation to break up the songs. I guess I like the “ooh ooh oohs” in the background of this chorus, but that’s about all that stands out here.
The harmonies are a lot more balanced on Return to Me. Like Right Kind of Trouble, Steve and Jensen are on equal footing on this one, even if the note at 2:04 is a little weird.
This one kind of rips off Sam Cooke’s Bring It on Home to Me but it’s obviously nowhere near as good. We get more of a brass feature at the end, which is nice; I didn’t realize how much I missed the brass section until it came back in this one. They tend to feature more heavily than this in Radio Company projects! This song has a pretty weird ending in that it’s pretty abrupt, like they just chose not to finish the phrase. This is the shortest song on the album and I don’t really think it should be?
Restless Man is another slower song with Jensen at the front. There’s a strong piano but Jensen is vocally a little less strong (I wonder if this song was recorded earlier in the process?). It’s another sobering moment of the album that I find myself gravitating towards just because the rest of it is so homogenous. We get the dynamite combination of the harmonica and the fiddle around 0:45 that continues on, and there’s also some nice layering around the 2-minute mark. There are lots of great instrumentals on this one and the variation is so needed. This one is fine, but looks better in comparison to what’s around it. I’m missing any kind of emotional journey or payoff.
The album ends with Velvet Sky, opening with a slow fiddle introduction in what I think is kind of a weird way to end an album. And you know what? I think it’s because Steve here inexplicably reminds me of Alan-a-Dale. This is for some reason giving me Oo-De-Lally, and there’s already a more impressive version of that out there so I’m not really seeing the point.
The song starts in earnest at 1:08, adding in some more layers where the vocals become a bit firmer, and ends by just trailing off. It’s like we’re watching Robin Hood and Little John walk deeper and deeper into the forest as the screen fades to black, leaving merriment behind them – the party’s still going, but they’re taking it elsewhere. Or, perhaps the audience has finally gotten tired enough from their evening of dancing to walk away, leaving the band behind in the barnyard to stumble back home and sleep it all off. For what it’s worth, at least it ended the same way it began.
STORY
Radio Company writes more... efficiently than they have in the past on this album, with vague impressions and mixed metaphors that really do their damndest to create clear characters. On Vol. 2, we got the story of Roy and Lori on Truly Forgotten, but this album has broadened the idea of doomed lovers to span a full album. The bare writing works against them on occasion in confusing the point of view in several places and withholding important information, and so I can’t say with certainty that I follow the complete arc of an album narrative. However, maybe being vague is the point, so as to not give too much away.
We open with the familiar trope of a devoted speaker that just can’t seem to win the heart of their beloved in Right Kind of Trouble. No matter how hard he tries, it’s never enough to make her stay: “It’s not if but when you’re gonna go / By the time you leave, well, we both know / Who and what we are.” He even idealizes her to the point of sainthood: “Slow down baby / Before you fall from above” – fall off her pedestal, or from Heaven, etc. It’s clearly an unhealthy balance of devotion and flippancy where the “black magic woman” keeps leaving the speaker over and over again, even as he begs on bended knee for her to stay.
But maybe, the speaker alludes by the end, that’s not such a bad thing? This kind of tenacity at least proves that the lover is strong and dependable, in that she sticks to her guns: “But you just won't break at all / You're the right kinda lover.” This is a person that can be counted on not to break under pressure, if only because she seems not to care too much about the speaker.
This idealizing and yearning continues into Forever Ain’t Long, where the speaker pleads for his lover to “take me to heaven / Or wherever you're from,” to a time “before the hurt came along.” We learn that at least one of these two is really in denial about how dysfunctional the relationship is, and try to just ignore that or push it aside:
The truth is in knowing,
only makes it feel wrong,
so we go right back to that old feeling
we want it to be
Wouldn’t it be nice to return to the very beginning of a relationship, before any problems start to set in or things get difficult? Wouldn’t it be nice to never fight, or butt heads, or deal with anything tough? Our speaker yearns for that ignorant bliss when we can still project our lover as an angelic fantasy. The title of the song comes from the phrase that the speaker repeats, “Take me forever, forever ain’t long” – denial is a fundamental part to making their relationship work. Forever IS a long time, but the speaker doesn’t want to acknowledge that. He even begins to doubt if it’s worth it to stay as things become more complicated: “all the hours I spent here / Was it wasted all this time / Cause I'm slowly losing all hope.”
In Every Light, we discover through third-person narrative the picture of a troubled salt-of-the-earth soul that lives for the thrill and pushes his luck and can’t be tamed even by the person who loves him most – all very familiar stuff if you ever read any bad boy!Harry Styles fic on Wattpad in 2013. We learn that this person is caught up in “cheap tattoos and booze” and keeps “runnin’ every light that came upon them / Proved his love with the pedal down to the floor / Though she knew he was a wanted man / And always dreamed of having more.” This is someone that “rambles,” that cannot be tied down and lives passionately and in poetic pain, “hid[ing] in darkness.” This is the emotionally unavailable antihero that our lover romanticizes and pines for.
Ain’t No Tellin’ speaks to the false bravado that our rambler carries and also to his deep conflict, first hinted at in Every Light (he was “destined for a life of being torn”). The song opens, “Oh the fact is / Cold but true / Ain’t no tellin’ / Who I am.” This is the exact opposite of the line in Right Kind of Trouble that suggests certain actions tell us everything we need to know about who we are. But the rambler doesn’t seem to be self-aware enough to understand himself so easily; he speaks one minute of unbridled sweetness and laughter, only for anger to replace it the next. (This same disquieting anger appears on Vol. 2 in tracks like Quarter To, so this inability to make sense of oneself because we contain darker aspects has clearly been weighing on these writers for some time.)
It is perhaps this very fear of self that makes the rambler so distant, and provides insight into why he acts the way he does: “When you need it / And you know that I’m a little far away / Ain’t no tellin’, no, / Where the hell I am.” He’s running from himself just as much as he’s running from love, because what is love if not looking right down into someone, seeing them for who they are, and choosing to stay with them? If we don’t know what is really underneath the performance we give to the world, how can we ever feel ready to accept unconditional love? If we are unsure of who we are, that would mean to trust someone else to know better – would they give us what we need, even if we don’t know what to ask for? He asks his lover over and over again, “who are you / holding onto now,” unsure of her intentions.
As in Vol. 2, the solution lies in faith, though the advice here sounds less wise and more placating: “Just believe in / Every time / When we feel it again.” Rest assured, things will work out even when we’re not our best selves, because we can always believe we’ll get back to that original feeling that first brought us together. That will never go away. This moment is connected with Forever Ain’t Long and that original desperate denial we need to make an unsatisfying relationship work; it’s also connected to Right Kind of Trouble, when the rambler says,
When you’re lonely
You can hold me close
Oh then go and leave me
Needing and knowing
We’re one in the same
So maybe we DO know who we are: we are the same, at least there’s that. This assertion diminishes the fear of abandonment with the knowledge that being apart cannot destroy their relationship – the foundation has always been strong.
But is that enough to keep a relationship together, despite its problems? When is the right time to cut someone off?
For this couple, maybe that’s the right thing to do. You Made Me Blue is a celebratory breakup song: “You made me blue / For the last time.” The speaker is finally free, having given up on the promises their lover used to string them along with for so long. You promised we’d be happy, and you left me instead, the song says. So, good riddance! We get the repetition of things “going wrong” in the relationship, causing the lover to leave them and “[take] everything I had” with them. The speaker reflects on that desperation from Right Kind of Trouble and realizes that they actually deserved a lot better: “I was doomed the day we met / But now I see / That you’re no good for me.” The lover went from being TOO good to NO good at all, one extreme to the next. But instead of getting too down about it, the speaker revels in their newfound freedom. It’s a blessing, actually, to be left!
The song ends, “Yeah, you’re out there and / I’m here taking care of me / I don’t care / I’m just happy being me” but it’s just another denial. Letting go of those dreams of “more” mentioned in Every Light of course would be painful, but the speaker refuses to acknowledge that, and I’m left unconvinced by the end.
Keep on Ramblin’ is a delusional continuation of Every Light post break-up: “Left town again for no reason / Hit the floor I was away” echoes the “pedal down to the floor” line in Every Light. The reference to a “life of crime” later also suggests this link to the “wanted list” and “bad crowd” in Every Light. The rambler continues to live in denial of the hurt that he causes and the pain that he feels: “Nothin’ wrong bout how I’m livin’” and, “Time is only passing if you think of it that way / This life of crime is lonely, but only if you let it in to stay.” If we just “keep on rambling,” keep moving, keep running away from our problems, then maybe they’ll never catch up to us. If we never gaze into the abyss, it can never gaze back. This is why the rambler packs up and leaves “for no reason,” and why he doesn’t care to feel the passage of time.
It’s never really clear in the album who’s doing the leaving when: they both seem to be constantly leaving each other, even though it also seems like neither of them really wants that. That’s how relationships are, I guess: a series of miscommunications can break us, when not saying how we really feel is the greatest possible sin.
Sweet Escape is all told to us again from a third party: he (the rambler) said all of what we’re about to hear – his words are being reported to us from someone else. The flawed rambler thrives on attention: “He said, ‘I want to be the one people turn to / Even if it means I may be wrong.’” He needs to be needed at whatever cost. And just as things go south, his desperate bid for control comes out in narcissistic claims that “I had planned it all along.” Nothing’s wrong, everything is going according to plan. He’ll continue to boast and brag and wind the lover up with hot air even “knowing somewhere in the dead of night / A better man with a bigger fight may show / And give it a go.” Some day, someone with more integrity may come along and force him to face consequences for the way he treats people, losing his beloved forever – the rambler fears this, but will never confront it. In the meantime, he’ll continue living freely, “sail[ing] through waters [that] no one [else] has the nerve to,” actively trying to “reach rock-bottom… in a bottomless sea.” More thrill-seeking, more self-destruction, fueled by the impulse to destroy ourselves.
Return to Me is a little tricky to place. There are two possibilities for this song as I see it fitting into this story of the rambler and his lover:
1. This song is from the point of view of the lover waiting for the rambler to come back to her. On the one hand, it may represent a kind of yearning that can set in even after the elation of a break-up with someone toxic in You Made Me Blue, but feels like a moment of weakness that sets a journey of personal empowerment back a few steps. In the first line, the lover asks, “How far will you go?” And even though the lover does say, “I can't wait another day” – she’s through waiting around for them – she also confesses that “I’d go to the end of the world for you / If only you return to me.” She once again proposes marriage like in Forever Ain’t Long – “Ride with me / Round the lakeside / Got a raincoat and a veil” – impulsively jump into my car, run away with me, let’s get married. A moment of doubt as well for the abandoned lover, attempting to rationalize the behavior that hurt them: “Maybe I deserved it / To be left this way / I’m not sure / How I was so blind.” Maya Angelou wrote, “When people show you who they are, believe them the first time” and maybe that’s what the lover is saying too. He has always shown himself to be unreliable and untrustworthy, so how could I have expected any different from him? Maybe our relationship breaking has always been my fault, from expecting too much from someone that could never deliver. I should have known better. It’s a very familiar feeling.
2. On the other hand, this song could also still be from the perspective of the rambler, whose running has finally caught up with him to the point where he now understands the finality of the lover’s decision to leave him in You Made Me Blue. The line about “riding round the lakeside” would make sense given the rambler’s repeated association with cars, and instead of a rationalization we may find a moment of clarity: “Maybe I deserved it / To be left this way / I’m not sure / How I was so blind.” Maybe my actions really do hurt people, this was never as casual as I liked to make it seem, and I deserve to be left behind for treating this person who really cares about me as disposable. Maybe she was never really indifferent to me – maybe I just kept pushing her away all this time.
I don’t think it really matters which interpretation of this song you go with, and I prefer to think of it as both at the same time. These two people can think the exact same things for different reasons, which perhaps shows how well-suited they actually are for each other. For once, they are totally in sync. The irony is that they’ve also never been further apart.
The latter interpretation does make more sense as we enter into the epiphany of the rambler, our “Restless Man.” He confesses that he’s “had my time / Spent it livin’ off my mind / When all along it’s wrong that led the way” – he’s finally seeing his actions clearly and knows that he hasn’t been making the best choices, for himself or for others attached to him. He’s still not promising his lover perfection – “Ain’t saying I’ll be the greatest,” and it is definitely a “gamble” – but he knows that he cannot continue the way he has been living so far. He has to change. He pleads, then:
So keep on coming around
To comfort me
Oh and find us
A place to land
And slow down
This restless man
The song ends with a desire to slow down, or, more accurately, to be made to slow down: exercise some of that strength that we saw in Right Kind of Trouble and make me new, the rambler asks. The question mark hangs in the air as we approach the last song, the end to the rambler’s journey.
I can’t fully make out Velvet Sky, and as the final track to the album maybe that contributes to the reason I find it to be such an odd ending. There’s enough to suggest here that Velvet Sky may be a reflection on the life that the rambler has led now that he’s decided to settle down (to a point). He’s seen everything he’s needed to see in the world: “I've walked down every street / Dragged both feet across most all the land / Bathed on every beach / So I know each grain of sand.” BUT, the song goes, the only thing that’s stuck out to him after everything is the sky over the sea. What’s left unspoken and what could give our rambler some peace is that the sky is the same everywhere. It’s constant, and you can’t outrun it. The speaker repeatedly mentions that the velvet sky is “the one thing that I love” – not a person or a home or a feeling, but the open and inviting sky, which has never abandoned him and never can. However, it’s later clarified that it’s the sky over the ocean that makes him happiest because in silhouette there he can see “where a sail finds a friend in the wind.” The sight of two boats on the water is his favorite in the world: an indirect way of saying that a loving partnership really means the most out of everything to him, where in Sweet Escape he only “sailed” alone.
While the wording is troubling, it’s suggested elsewhere that the rambler has abandoned the rambling lifestyle, as he is left “prayin’ I won’t end up just like the one who ran away / If in fear is where I'm livin’ for the most… away from all this wretched sin.” There’s still some uncertainty, some fear that this won’t work out and that the change won’t stick, because that beautiful velvet sky out there still calls his name. But this line does seem to imply that he’s through “running away” and doesn’t want to be the guy that does that anymore. The biggest piece of evidence that things are ending on a good (if complicated) note is that “you’re headed toward the shore to follow me.” If he is still running away, at least someone is running with him instead of away from him.
Ultimately, it does little to resolve the fundamental issues at the core of the rambler’s relationship with his lover about identity and darkness. There’s also an argument to be made that this last song implies that the rambler has been left alone and abandoned forever, rejected, longing for something he can never have. “Pay me no mind” he dismisses, and he “drink[s] wine from a bottle each day,” recalling the “booze” he was mixed up with in Every Light.
The story of this album poses a flawed but passionate character afraid to do any self-reflecting, and then refuses to ever force that introspection. It seems to me at least that the rambler never fully solves his own problems, and what little peace he may find comes at a cost. The album instead, I think, poses a challenge to its listeners: will you run? Would you stay?
For what it’s worth, I don’t think that any of this comes across well in the music of the album – there’s a total disconnect here between form and content.
FINAL THOUGHTS
Keep On Ramblin’ fits into country canon without standing out. Most of it is, and I do hate to say this, mediocre bar music. This is not the sweeping indie rock with quiet ambition that I was just getting used to from Radio Company; I wouldn’t put these songs on anywhere other than a backyard BBQ to fill in the spaces between better and more recognizable performers like Willie Nelson and Gram Parsons. It’s fine, but they just don’t go far enough here for my taste. Too many cliches, not enough belting or strong feeling, weak harmonies, and the instrumentals barely even get started before they’re over. There is no discernible arc in either the music OR the story that I can find, and if there is one then it’s too much work for me to even want to unearth. A lot of it more or less blends together, and it’s not an album that I care to think too hard about.
I grew up with classic country music and I appreciate it. I’m trying to be impartial about the style change, but I have to be honest: I just like this less than Vol. 1 or Vol. 2. I know that Radio Company are capable of better! As of now, my favorite project from Radio Company might actually be Vol. 1; I did not expect to feel that way, but that’s the project I feel most nostalgic for out of all of them so far.
Track ratings out of five stars:
Right Kind of Trouble ⭐️⭐️
Forever Ain’t Long ⭐️⭐️⭐️
Every Light ⭐️⭐️
Ain’t No Telling ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
You Made Me Blue ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Keep on Ramblin’ ⭐️⭐️
Sweet Escape ⭐️⭐️
Return to Me ⭐️⭐️
Restless Man ⭐️⭐️⭐️
Velvet Sky ⭐️
Average song rating: 2.5/5
Favorite tracks: Ain’t No Tellin’, You Made Me Blue, Restless Man
#radio company#text#music review#music#this album is EXTREMELY dean winchester coded fyi#the rambler is dean. jensen is dean. jensen wrote a dean country album.#and it should have been much better than this so everyone boo this man#i started this review so early this morning and i've been looking at it ALL DAY i need to be done with it#if i'm incoherent sorry!!! i rewrote this like 8 times
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
London’s CRUEL MOTHER Take on Traditional Song “John Barleycorn”
~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~
By Billy Goate
Over the course of several generations, the traditions of the past have been largely forgotten. This includes traditional stories, songs, and dances. That's tragic, because these traditions often have valuable insights into what makes us human, where humanity has gone wrong, and the road to felicity.
That's why I'm excited to hear a heavy band from London reviving a traditional song for their premiere single, "John Barleycorn." I remember eating at John Barleycorns in Portland, Oregon and thinking, "Oh that's a quaint name," and sort of left it at that. It wasn't until CRUEL MOTHER reached out to me that I learned of the dark allegory behind the name (see below).
The five-piece band from East London draws inspiration from "the rich tradition of English Murder ballads" and have been at it since 2022, with a fiddle thrown into the stoner-doom mix for good measure. All it took was one listen and I found myself singing the song to myself whilst working. I think they're definitely onto something here.
The single comes out tomorrow and is recommended for fans of Green Lung (get it here). Look for more from Cruel Mother in 2024!
Give ear...
Cruel.mother.doom · John Barleycorn by Cruel Mother
SOME BUZZ
“John Barleycorn” [Roud 164] tells of the brutal murder of its namesake; the personification of barley used to make ale and whisky. Each stage of Barleycorn’s life and death -- being sown and reaped, roasted, crushed and mashed -- corresponds to the brewing process.
The story has traveled through many creative hands, from poet Robert Burns to novelist Jack London to comedy anthology show Inside No. 9, and remains popular among folk revival artists and pub landlords alike. Different versions portray Barleycorn as variously vengeful, intoxicating (much to his killers’ misfortune) or heroic, whose potency brings joy to his drinkers.
The personification invokes the sinister, ritualistic aspect of legendary British folk rituals (the popularly-recognisable ‘wicker man’), but can be interpreted as a joyful drinking song to be sung in the ale house, celebrating the death-and-rebirth cycle of the harvest. Cruel Mother's version infuses the folk tale with their signature doom riffs and driving drums to evoke the bouncing rhythm of classic drinking anthems.
Although a metaphor rather than strictly a murder ballad, John Barleycorn is one of composer Becky’s favourite folk ballads as it can be adapted and interpreted in many different ways. With its harvest cycle imagery suggestive of ancient rituals, it’s simultaneously fun, joyful, satirical, mysterious, sinister and disturbing.
The artwork for the track was created by Robert Maltby. His design retains the traditional woodcut style that typically accompanies broadside ballads, infused with his own interpretation of the tale. The piece is inspired by idol paintings of Saint Sebastian, who was tied to a tree and shot with arrows only to be healed and later clubbed to death. This draws a parallel between the martyrdom of the saint’s death and the sacrificial reading of John Barleycorn as a necessary death.
Follow The Band
Get Their Music
#D&S Debuts#Cruel Mother#London#England#UK#doom metal#stoner rock#folk#John Barleycorn#D&S Reviews#Doomed and Stoned
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Instrumental I produced for the 11th track on Wekko's final project, DubLord 56X: Last Call. The story behind this track is quite funny, actually.
Also before I type your ear off, please go check out the music video! Its fire.
PRETENTIOUS STORYTELLING TIME:
The genesis of this beat came from a voice call I joined in a friend's discord server back in June of 2022. I had been inactive in that friend group for a while due to a (now ex) lover of mine and our tumultuous relationship (a story I will not divulge in detail here).
All you really need to know about the lover part is that our relationship mostly communicated through discord and discord calls. As a result of our relationship turning very toxic after a certain point, I became very hesitant to join voice calls for a while due to being emotionally drained.
Come June of 2022, I had stopped calling her every night and felt more motivated to check in on my friends from this old server I used to frequent. During one of these returning voice calls, I found myself in conversation with Wekko, talking about his upcoming album and the progress on that, and somehow the conversation eventually turned to recent politics of the time. While discussing disdain for the decision to overturn Roe v. Wade that same day, I came up with a quip off the top of my head that seemed to spark interest between the both of us.
"What if we made a diss track on Joe Biden for Dublord 56X"
This simple statement in the moment lead me from silly thought to grinding out what is, precisely, the mp3 file linked above.
No joke, I started this beat on 6/24/22 at 6:28pm and bounced the final mix on 6/25/22 at 4:32:12am. Including times where I took a break and undeafened for a bit, I spent a total of 10 hours working on this project in total.
fun fact: on the same day I exported the bounce for this beat and sent it to wechard, I ended up breaking up with this significant other after 9 months of dating. So this beat has a lot of importance to me in that regard, too.
double fun fact: same day that dublord 56X drops, gas prices fell in my area by a few dollars. Coincidence?
#pluggnb#hip hop#instrumental#original song#sample#joe biden#DJ BITCHWHICH#plugg#story time#swag mix
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dead & Company at Deer Creek (Rouff) Music Center, Noblesville, Ind., June 28, 2022
Dead & Company can be a hit-or-miss proposition. But on June 28 at the former Deer Creek Music Center, the band was a big hit.
Like, Babe Ruth big.
Rural Indiana saw a band infused with energy & passion - one that played as a whole.
Dead & Company.
Not Dead. & Company.
Where Jeff Chimenti once buoyed sinking sets with energy-spiking piano and organ solos, they were just part of the mix. Where guitarist John Mayer once seemed like an odd duck on a weirder pond, he’s now a Dead duck, paying proper respect to Jerry Garcia while remaining true to himself & so integrated into the band he called on Bob Weir to go ’round one more time during the heartfelt vocal coda on “He’s Gone.”
Slow tempos? Gone. Terrible vocal performances? Rare.
This despite ailing, 75-year-old drummer Bill Kreutzmann - who came onstage after missing recent gigs smiling with a wave & a bow - being replaced by Jay Lane alongside Mickey Hart, 78, for set two. Kreutzmann’s feel is missed; however, Lane’s relative youth gives the band’s rhythm section/Devils a punch that two septuagenarians simply cannot bring. Not a criticism; a fact.
Deer Creek was a stunning mix of setlist - such as the “Viola Lee Blues” opener that bounced a dirty-blue streak for some 20 minutes - & performance, as in the often-little-more-than-a-throwaway “Don’t Ease Me In,” which was one of the highlights of the 3.5-hour show.
That’s not a typo. Dead & Company’s two sets ran 90 & 120 minutes, respectively, & Bob Weir, 74, was driving that train. He sung lead on every song devoted to one singer - an electric & fast “Friend of the Devil” & “Terrapin Station” were spilt between Mayer & Weir; Mayer, Chimenti, Weir & bassist Oteil Burbridge, who played like a smiling monster in tie-dye all night, each took a verse on “The Weight” - save for “Row Jimmy,” & “They Love Each Other,” which found Mayer on the mic.
Weir was an eight ball of energy, reprising soundcheck by fusing “Foolish Heart” with “The Other One” in set one. Late in set two, Weir was so jacked up after a howling version of “All Along the Watchtower,” that he started “Standing on the Moon” before realizing his mistake & leading the band to an “Other One” reprise that galloped even harder than what they’d played two hours earlier.
The “Moon” then came out & the main set ended with a rave-up rendition of “(Turn on Your) Lovelight,” rendered in the call-&-response arrangement of the Grateful Dead’s Pigpen era.
Begun in 1965 & with just three - & later only two - Dead men in the mix, the long, strange trip is necessarily getting shorter & less weird. But on this night in this space, the X factor was back.
There was nothing like this Dead & Company concert.
Grade card: Dead & Company at Deer Creek - 6/28/22 - A
See more photos on Sound Bites’ Facebook page.
6/29/22
#dead & company#grateful dead#2022 concerts#bob weir#mickey hart#bill kreutzmann#jay lane#john mayer#jeff chimenti#oteil burbridge#bob dylan#the band#the allman brothers band#primus#jerry garcia#ron pigpen mckernan#pigpen
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
pas de deux director’s cut!
This december I completed my longest fic to date, a fake dating ballet au where Michael is a choreographer and Ashton is a principal at a made-up ballet company in Minnesota. Lots of time and love went into this fic, so I figured I’d share a bit of the process and behind the scenes nuggets! Here are a few thoughts and inside details about my fic pas de deux. (spoilers below!)
The Beginnings
So, how did this fic start? The very first idea of it came in the beginnings of December 2021, but the fic itself didn’t take shape until the early early early mornings of December 31, when I messaged megs @igarbagecannoteven the following:
This evolved slightly on January 4, 2022:
From there, however, came the issue of discovering why two ballet dancers would have to fake date. Usually fake dating is pretty easy and intuitive for me to structure, because it’s my favorite trope and I dabble in it a lot (pas de deux is my fourth fake relationship fic I’ve posted). A few reasonings that megs and I brainstormed were as follows:
one of them is being hit on and lies and says that they have a boyfriend, but they say this lie to a journalist covering the ballet company and it gets out of hand
rival companies that are either working together for the first time to mix reviews or that want more publicity so fake dating commences to make it appear more harmonious than it actually is
a new, very young choreographer and the seasoned principal dancer who have some sort of interaction that the public likes, and because the public doubts the choreographer but trusts the dancer's opinion the company decides to make it seem like the dancer really approves of the choreographer via fake dating plot
the company has become kinda infamous for not being very welcoming to newcomers, so much so that it's become public knowledge, so they cook up the fake dating scheme to be like "look how well this new choreographer is assimilating he's even dating one of our best dancers"
I knew at this point that I wanted to include mashton pushing each other to be better, and I wanted the fake dating to extend to the public rather than just faking it in front of other company members. i also knew that I wanted them to dance together, because that’s the whole point of me writing a fic where they’re dancers. I have a thing about dancing together as a show of intimacy, it’s something that appears in a lot of my fics and that I try to incorporate as much as possible and something that I always enjoy when I see it in media (when von trapp is teaching maria how to dance in sound of music, for example). I also was in the middle of writing Partner Steps during this, so I was wavering on whether I wanted one of them to be a choreographer given that I was already writing a fic where one of them was a choreographer. I needed a few days to bounce all of these ideas around in my mind, but on January 29 there was the full breakthrough!
That day I also decided that I would be playing fast and loose with particular aspects of a professional ballet company (such as having Ashton play the nutcracker every performance, rather than having multiple nutcrackers who go through a rotation throughout the run), and I cast Halsey as the sugarplum fairy, Crystal as Michael’s assistant, and Feldy as the artistic director of the ballet company. I am a huge fan of putting halsey and ashton in partner performance things (in my circus school au they do hand to hand balancing together, in my ice dance au they’re partners, etc) and I knew that they would do the pas together, since I wanted to give the nutcracker a bigger role in the show. For a ballet that’s named after him, he typically doesn’t do much.
After that message, I didn’t touch the au for months. I outlined the first chapter in April, and then I didn’t touch it until May (made no actual progress), and then I didn’t touch it until September (made no progress).
as you can see. things were looking bleak. But! at this point I knew a few touchstone pieces:
ashton needs to move past his traumatic injury and regain his confidence while also kind of switching his mindset about dance to ensure that it stays an art form he loves rather than a source of stress and upset
this ashton is really guarded due to the Pressures of Fame ^TM so whether michael likes him as a person rather than a publicity stunt/principal dancer is going to be a big deal in some way
michael is choreographing his first multi-act ballet and hoping that it's successful because if it isn't, it'll be a dark mark on his choreography career, and at this point he's more interested in choreography/teaching than in being a principal dancer
those were the two big parts of their character motivations in the story, and those were the two things that I needed to drive the story, more so than the fake dating or the development of the show itself.
At this point I didn’t even know what Luke and Calum’s roles were and whether they knew Ashton before this season or not. That was a bit of a stumbling block because I’m generally a very character-focused writer, and I was having a hard time moving forward with the story without knowing where all of my people would be and what their relationships were.
By mid-october, I had chapter 1 and a little bit of chapter 2 outlined, the sentence “date to mia here!!!” by chapter three, and “sexy times then ghosting?” by chapter 4. By the time I reached November, aka Nanowrimo, aka when I had to begin writing if I had any hope at all of finishing, I had a few more bullet points, but I was very much flying by the seat of my pants.
The Writing Process
One thing that everyone should know about me is that I do not consider myself a very disciplined writer. If I don’t have inspiration or motivation for a particular project, I simply will not write it. I have trouble writing on a schedule, and while I do tend to write a lot of words in the grand scheme of things (over 100k a year in recent years), it doesn’t feel like a lot because it’s often not on the same project. I have 90 fic ideas for 5sos alone, not factoring in my other fandoms, so focusing in on one project for two months was something I thought impossible until I somehow managed to pull it off for this fic.
Basically, I sat down every day, made myself write, logged my wordcount on the nano website, went to bed, rinse and repeat. I was able to outline a bit as I went along, which helped. It turns out that it’s easier to write if I have what the next scene is written down lol. This isn’t because I will forget otherwise, there’s just something about physically seeing it in writing that helps focus my thoughts. You learn something new with every fic, I guess!
I also gave writing updates to the club every night, which helped keep me disciplined as well. Big thanks to Annie, Bella, and all the other people in that groupchat for support and encouragement, because I needed it, especially towards the end when I was burning out.
Overall, I am amazed at myself for writing this fic. Maybe that seems a little self-congradulatory, but before this fic, the longest thing I had ever written was if we make it through december, which was 28k. unmute was my only wip even near that length, the other were all around 10k. I knew that this fic would be longer than that, but watching myself actually pull it off was kind of mind-boggling, even though I was the one doing it. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to do something like this again. For the most part, it was a relatively pleasant experience. I didn’t have any breakdowns. I wasn’t overly stressed, although there definitely were very stressful times. Looking back on it, the specifics of the writing process are a bit of a blur. It just... happened. I kept chugging along like the little engine that could!
One thing about this fic is that I got extremely lucky with light bulb moments where I was able to carry forth ideas from early scenes, which I think helped keep the story cohesive.
Michael naming the nutcrackers in his head in later chapters is solely because Bella said in a comment on the first chapter that she hoped it was an ongoing thing.
Ashton sending a video of Michael’s choreography to Feldy and that being what got him hired? That was not something I planned, it’s just something that snuck in as I wrote the last chapter. I had planted that idea of Ashton suggesting people to Feldy early on, so I had a lightbulb moment as I was writing to try to bring it full circle. I’m trying to fulfill Chekhov’s gun a bit more in my writing, so I enjoyed putting it in there, even if I was a little unsure whether it would be too much or not.
Michael’s general loneliness came about as I was writing rather than being something I planned. As such, most of the last chapter was actually not planned, as a lot of it has to do with Michael finally feeling secure in his place in the company and friend group. It’s very convenient that I had something to fill that time with, though, because if the chapter just had to do with his interactions with Ashton it would be pretty short due to the whole ghosting-miscommunication thing
As far as writing preferences, chapter 1 was the easiest, chapter 3 was my favorite because of the date, and chapter 5 was both my least favorite and the one that I think is the worst. That’s a horrible feeling to have about the last chapter, but I wish I had been able to come up with a better plot than “Ashton thinks that Michael doesn’t actually care about him because he still has unresolved trauma from his experience at NYCB and therefore is absent for the entire chapter and everyone is a little miserable,” but I think i resolved it as well as I could and i think that everything that happened could’ve still very well been in character. chapter 5 was by far the least planned chapter, which also made things difficult. looking back, though, i don’t know what I would have done differently, so overall I’m content :)
Handling the Ensemble
This fic, while centering heavily on Michael and Ashton, does have a lot of other characters in it, and I want to talk a little bit about all of the non-mashton people!
Feldy: as stated above, I knew right away that Feldy would be the artistic director of Minneapolis Ballet, but I didn’t anticipate just how heavily he would feature in this fic. I believe that he has the most screen time out of anyone besides Michael and Ashton. Him being somewhat of a father-figure to Ashton was a bit of a surprise, but ultimately I really like that aspect of their relationship in the fic. We know that all of 5sos feels really close to him, but I think that Ashton in particular really appreciates Feldy’s presence as an older figure who they can relate to and learn from, so I enjoyed translating that into this fic. I don’t mention anything about Ashton’s blood family in this fic, and Feldy is very much his closest father figure in it. When they connected, it was an instant bond, and Feldy saw Ashton for who he is as a person rather than as the dancer that everyone knew, while also being one of the few people to still, very sincerely believe in him. as such, their relationship developed into something pretty special. we don’t get to see too much of it since the fic is from Michael’s point of view, but Feldy being a fun yet extremely competent guiding light in the fic was a very pleasant development.
Haaaaaaaaaaaaaallllllllssssssseeeeeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!! I wish I could’ve put them in the fic more. The biggest sadness I have is that she just didn’t naturally fit in the fic in more scenes. In general, I had to make an effort to include more ensemble scenes with multiple characters so it wasn’t just michael and ashton and feldy all of the time, especially because Partner Steps is solely mashton and I didn’t want it to be too similar. As such, i feel like Halsey was underutilized in this fic, unfortunately :( Still, I enjoyed thinking of them as a principal ballet dancer, and I do think that their vibe would be great for the flavor of Sugarplum that I wanted in the fic. When the company eventually does Swan Lake, Halsey plays Odette/Odile.
Sierra and Crystal: I have a hard time writing Sierra and Crystal. I never know if I’m writing them well, because I honestly don’t know them very well. I don’t follow either of them on social media, since I’m fans of the boys and not of them, so I’m always making everything up when I write them. I try my best with the info that I have, but the info that I have is not much. As such, Crystal became a bit more like a plot device and Sierra became mostly another body necessary for some scenes. Apologies to both ladies, but this fic simply was not suited for more than that at this time. I did enjoy developing mystal’s friendship and I liked the details of Crystal having been a principal in Minnesota before and enjoying kids, as well as finding instances to make Luke fall in love with Sierra.
Roy: I do follow Roy on instagram, because I want to study him under a microscope. He’s also a somewhat difficult character for me to write, but the background roylum was genuinely one of the very first things about the fic that I wanted to accomplish, so our guy gets to be in the ensemble scenes! There wasn’t necessarily a lot of place to actually pepper in the fact that roylum was existing in this universe, so figuring out how to drop that in the narrative was interesting, as they don’t give me the impression of an excessive pda couple.
Calum and Luke: okay. the other two 5sos boys. once again, half the time I felt like I was just throwing them in there so the entire fic wasn’t just mashton and feldy, but they both also have very interesting dynamics with Ashton which unfortunately were not able to be fully explored in the fic as this was not that story! this was not their place! but I do think there’s so much depth to those dynamics that only occurs off of the page. Luke really deeply admires Ashton in a lot of ways, and he has a conviction to do what’s right that Ashton reinforces even when Luke is scared. That’s very much a brotherly dynamic that they have going on, almost more so in this fic than in other ones I’ve written, even if we don’t get to see it here. Calum, on the other hand, is Ashton’s quiet support and best friend. They fuel each other creatively in different ways, and being from two different creative worlds really helps them get to know each other outside of the reputations from their fields. Both Luke and Calum also warm up pretty quickly to Michael. While it might have seemed like Calum blew Michael off in chapter 4 when he doesn’t invite him to dinner, that’s because Calum still wasn’t sure where Ashton’s head was at in regards to Michael and his priority was getting Ashton comfortable and feeling safe so they could figure out what was wrong and fix it. When Michael wasn’t replying to texts in the groupchat in chapter 5, Calum was one of the first to notice and texted Luke about it right away so they could plan in case Michael didn’t show up. While their dynamic with Michael is newer than their friendships with Ashton, both of them want to get to know him outside of the context of the fake dating.
In a very early idea for the fic, Ryan Flemming was supposed to be doing a mini documentary series for the ballet to put on their youtube for promotion, but that would’ve been too much to juggle so I let it go very quickly. Not only would i have to figure out how to write Ryan, but it would’ve been too much to also have Michael and Ashton acting for the camera, especially when this fic honestly became much less about the fake dating and much more about Ashton and Michael overcoming their own demons to create a successful show.
All of the people mentioned in the fic, with the exception of Brian McTier, are real people connected to 5sos in some way that I threw in there. Roy gets to dance Coffee with Little Luna, since they’re friends in real life. Marzipan is danced by the members of Hinds. Sarah and Andy are, of course, the photographers, and Matt Pauling is the physical therapist in residence at the ballet company!
In an ideal world, this fic would’ve naturally allowed me to expand on the friendships and general group dynamics more, but then we probably wouldn’t have had Michael’s ongoing loneliness that he had to let go of and it wouldn’t have been such a sweet surprise when his friends showed up at his door with noodles to watch csi: miami, so you win some and lose some I suppose!
Hazel/Minnesota Easter Eggs
Throughout this fic, I peppered in a lot of little hidden joys for myself. Some of them are general to Minnesota, but some of them are specific to me. Here’s a list!
the Minneapolis Institute of Art does, in fact, exist as I have described it. Hotei Within His Sack is my favorite art piece there, and it’s absolutely delightful to see people walk through the Japan exhibit, glance at him, then do a double take and stop to take delight in him. The museum itself is precious to me because I worked nearby, and when I was first figuring out how to use the public bus I took myself to an outing there to see a visiting van gogh exhibit.
Electric Fetus also exists! I have sadly never been there, but it’s true that Prince used to shop there. While there isn’t a Prince shrine in the window now as described, there was one over the summer. I would pass by it every time my brother drove me to work.
The Yellow Goat is not a cafe in Minneapolis, but instead the name of a used bookstore that used to exist in my town. It has since gone out of business, unfortunately.
Shayla is actually my favorite local newscaster! She does the early morning and the noon show on WCCO, the local station under CBS.
People do tend to talk about Prince a lot in Minnesota. When there was a debate over renaming a block of First Avenue outside of the venue First Avenue to Prince Rodgers Nelson Way, I did genuinely hear about it on the news 4 times in one day. First Avenue (the venue) is an independently owned venue that was featured in Purple Rain, and Prince’s star on the outside is the only one painted gold rather than silver. It is my favorite venue, even though I’m not a huge Prince fan. Prince’s Paisley Park is located in Chanhassen, the same city where Amy Adams worked as an actress at the Chanhassen Dinner Theater before she moved to LA.
Every celebrity listed throughout the fic who lived in Minnesota did, in fact, live in Minnesota. We have over 100 large statues of Charlie Brown, Lucy, Linus, and Snoopy with his doghouse all over the Twin Cities metro area in tribute to Charles Schultz. My hometown has three: Charlie Brown at my old elementary school, Linus at the other elementary school, and Lucy outside of the public library
Minneapolis Ballet is the only completely fictional ballet company mentioned in the fic. All of the others exist, although I have no connection with them and made up other details. Twin Cities Ballet does have a ballet set to Pink Floyd music, though. That was true.
The Delwo Performance Center is named after my childhood ballet teacher :)
Brian McTier, mentioned as the Minneapolis Ballet technical director in chapter 5, was the name of my high school theater’s tech director. He lives two blocks away from me.
Fran’s Bakery, who catered the performance concessions, was the name of my grandapa’s bakery.
The Minnesota State Fair is the 2nd largest state fair in America, beaten only by Texas, which has a population almost 6 times the size but a state fair attendance only 1.2 times the size. It did make the list of Newsweek’s 10 Best (Late) Summer Festivals in the World and was the only festival from the United States to make the list.
Michael’s constant watching of procedurals comes directly from me. I get a tv station that shows a marathon of NCIS on Sundays and a few other oens that feel like they’re constantly showing CSI: Miami. I personally would really like to see Luke try to mimic Horatio Caine.
Dances at a Gathering is my favorite ballet :) I actually don’t know much about ballet for someone who has written a whole fic about it. I hadn’t seen the Nutcracker in person until this year (December 12, so after I had started posting this fic), and my dance studio was very casual. However, in my research for this fic, I watched some videos and have come to the conclusion that Dances at a Gathering is my favorite ballet. Swan Lake is my second favorite simply because the music SLAPS. I do not care for Theme and Variations at all.
Misc:
Michael carries his loneliness in his stomach
He carries his nervousness in his fingers, and fidgeting with the cuffs of his hoodies/sweatshirts/sleeves in general is his biggest nervous tell.
I’m not sure if this was clear, but the weekly friend dinners started with that first one that Michael was at. Ashton’s friend group would do dinners every once in a while together, but it’s not until Michael and the fake dating arrangement that it became an official weekly occurrence.
At some point in the process I figured out that I wanted Ashton lifting Michael onto the counter while they were kissing, which meant I had to put that little bit about him being able to lift Michael while doing the production photos in chapter 3. ballet dancers are super strong, but I wanted to ensure that Ashton especially had been pre-established as such.
Ashton and Michael both genuinely liked each other pretty early on. Michael was attracted to him from the beginning, and was pretty aware that he was falling for him the whole time, although the moment after the date at the end of chapter 3 is when it really sinks in that he’s past the point of no return. Ashton was also aware, but he was willfully ignoring the voice in the back of his head suggesting that this was a bad idea.
Feldy was also pretty aware of what was going on between Michael and Ashton, but he was hanging on to his professionalism by not getting involved in their personal love lives.
The ages of the boys and Ashton’s black hair was fully determined by this picture of him, which is my favorite pic of him in existence. When I first conceived of the nutcracker au, back in 2021 before I even knew it would be a fake dating fic, I knew that Ashton would have black hair for it.
If you’ve read this far, I hope something about this was interesting! I know that there were things that I left out, either because I’ve forgotten or because I simply did not think about it right now. Nonetheless, I hope that this gave you some sort of positive insight into this fic and it’s journey, and I hope you enjoyed :)
#personal#my writing#pas de deux#wow this got super long and i honestly feel like i'm forgetting A Lot#director's cut
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
My 100 Favorite Songs of 2022
It's that time of year again, when everyone else has shared their year-end list and I come in and correct everyone's bullshit! I kid, I kid, I don't claim to know or appreciate music better than anyone else, but I'm proud of the list I put together.
This year, I found it hard to narrow my list down to just 100, and even harder to definitely rank them. 2022 was a deep, deep year, full of great songs, but not too many songs that towered above the rest. This is the streaming conundrum–there's a billion songs out there and so many of them are good.
More than ever, I put an emphasis on discovery, moving from sound to sound in a relentless search for songs that would hold my attention. The following are the songs that made me laugh, cry, or just made my jaw drop.
Check HERE for the Spotify playlist and don't forget to scroll all the way down for my full Top 100 list.
Happy listening all, hope you find something you love as much as I do!
THE SONGS
25. Rema - “Calm Down”: “Calm Down” hits like a warm bath, its gently loping guitar and militaristic snare combining to make a soundscape perfectly-suited for YouTube 10-hour mixes. Rema does what he does best, melting into the mix with chant-like melodies and a new flow for every verse. By the time producers Andrevibez and London layer in swelling organs and sumptuous strings, “Calm Down” mesmerizes the listener to the point where they won’t even mind if the DJ is playing the wrong version and Selena Gomez shows up.
24. Yahritza & Su Esencia - “Soy El Unico”: Over the past few years, I’ve grown very fond of corridos and regional Mexican music–the singers are charismatic and those acoustic guitarists can shred. I don’t speak fluent Spanish, though, so I know that whenever I listen to these story-driven ballads, there’s a lot I’m not getting. But there is no misunderstanding Yahritza Martinez in “Soy El Único,” her achingly raw tone radiating the kind of all-encompassing heartbreak that you can only feel when you’re 15 (or 13, which is apparently how old she was when she wrote the song). Backed by her brothers on guitar and bass, she delivers one of the best vocal performances of the year, dousing you in every ounce of her anger and despair.
23. Asian Doll - “Get Jumped” ft. Bandmanrill: I’m gonna be real and say that I did not expect Dallas native Asian Doll to be the first southern rapper to hop on the club rap wave, but it’s a mode that suits her nicely–she’s always been able to rap with the dexterity required for the uptempo style. On “Get Jumped,” Asian goes blow-for-blow with the “godfather” of club rap, Newark’s Bandmanrill, over Bankroll Got It’s sped-up and souped-up sample of David Ruffin’s “I Miss You.” For his part, the Bandman delivers one of his best verses of the year, mixing his uber-confident stick talk with a pathos that reflects the heartbreak of the sample. Asian more than holds her own, returning his volleys with head-spinning speed and exacting precision.
22. Kendrick Lamar - “Rich Spirit”: He’s an ambassador for Compton and the longtime face of L.A.’s most prominent rap label, but Kendrick Lamar never really concerned himself with the prevailing sounds of his home city’s rap scene. Though we’ll never hear 2014-era Kendrick rip apart a DJ Mustard beat, Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers highlight “Rich Spirit” feels like Kendrick’s attempt to make an anthem for the L.A. underground–more specifically, his own version of “Impatient Freestyle,” the modern classic by Drakeo The Ruler. Producers Sounwave, Frano, and DJ Dahi (I’m comfortable crediting him for the ghostly vocal samples that affirmatively answer Kendrick’s pronouncements) craft an immersive soundscape that feels appropriately spiritual*, while retaining that West Coast bounce, allowing space for Kendrick to preach about holistic living (regular fasting, abstention from social media) and credibly compare himself to deities major and minor.
*and not dissimilar to the "Impatient" beat Mike WiLL Made It originally made for Jeremih
21. Luh Tyler - “Back Flippin”: This is the most recent song on the list, released on December 14th. I originally had another song by Luh Tyler, the Tallahassee teenager and future megastar, in this slot: ”I Gotta Slide,” a 98-second burst of effortless shit talk and sly wordplay. While “I Gotta Slide” is a sketch, the Xair-produced “Back Flippin” expands upon everything that Tyler does well. It walks the fine line between stupid and clever with aplomb, Tyler’s croaking delivery and signature upward-inflecting flow selling every punchline (and nearly every line is a punchline). Recalling in equal measure the lackadaisical stoner wisdom of Devin The Dude, the conversational sing-song of Kodak Black, and the indefatigable brashness of a young Nef The Pharaoh, Luh Tyler is already a distinct and extremely promising voice in the rap game. As great as it is, “Back Flippin’” feels a lot less like a career peak than the start of the climb.
20. Joony - “DRIFTING IN TOKYO”: One day, a cultural scholar smarter than me will have to investigate the impact made by the third Fast & Furious film. The movie certainly made an impression on 20-year-old Maryland rapper Joony. To his credit, the “Drifting In Tokyo” instrumental–an easygoing UK garage throwback with supremely chill Rhodes licks and crackling DnB drums, crafted by producer Davy’s archive–evokes the neon-lit nights and seemingly frictionless rides through the Japanese metropolis that Justin Lin captured so memorably in that movie. The cinematic backdrop leaves plenty of space for Joony’s mellow melodies, his plaintive deadpan dripping with paranoia and resignation: “I can't do this shit no more/But I don't wanna die alone.”
19. Babyface Ray - “Me, Wife & Kids”: Babyface Ray rhymes with a world-weary wisdom; the soft-spoken, authoritative croak of a man who’s seen everything. A euphoric soul-sampler (from Detroit’s Pooh Beatz), “Me Wife & Kids” gives a wistful lift to Ray’s hustle-hard witticisms, the Detroit native determined to escape the liminal space between his hardscrabble past and bright future. Ray’s third verse is one of the coldest of the year, methodically and economically laying out the life or death stakes of the rap game and the trap game (“Twenty-five years, brodie still in the game/I told him put the bag down, he say that's how he get paid/He tryna find his way out, you know that shit like a maze”) and exuding the confidence necessary to succeed: “Nah, I ain't trap, I'm just movin' off survival/Tryna figure out how to sell the church Bibles.”
18. Lay Bankz - “In My Bag”: I didn’t realize it was possible to make a slow jam at 150 bpm, but Philly native Lay Bankz sure showed me. The song starts like so many R&B ballads, with sensitive acoustic guitar arpeggios, establishing a tender and confident milieu. Quickly, the song erupts, with an insistent Philly club-style beat powering forward at warp speed, accelerating like a heartbeat fluttering in the presence of a new crush. Lay Bankz doesn’t push herself to keep up with the tempo, but stays calm, layering harmonies as her languid vocal floats above the fray. “In My Bag” is a banger, yes, but more significantly, Lay’s strong sense of structure and facility with sugar-coated melodies expands our conceptions about what East Coast club music can or should sound like, paving a path for the style to make further inroads to the mainstream.
17. Iayze - “556 (Green Tip)”: “556 (Green Tip)” is perhaps the most whimsical song ever written about a deadly weapon. Producer KeyWaza serves up an entrancingly dinky instrumental for the Fort Worth 18-year-old (name pronounced “Jace”) to sink his teeth into. Iayze holds court, slithering between the pootering synths with a stop-starting flow. None of this should work, but it does–it’s a trick that Iayze seems to know that he’s playing: “I just shot a foul ball, it's good because I made the rules.”
16. Black Sherif - “Kwaku The Traveller”: Ghana’s Black Sherif is part rapper, part griot, breaking out in Accra's fertile drill scene with his one-of-a-kind microphone presence. Blessed with a minimal, yet ominous beat (from producer Joker nharnah), the confessional “Kwaku The Traveller” is the best showcase of his unhinged charisma to date*. The first verse thrives on Sherif’s unconventional relationship with rhythm, his motor-mouthed patter paying no attention to beats or bar lines. In the second verse, he hammers home his theme, switching between English and Twi as he compares the always-on-the-move lifestyle of an artist to that of a nomadic hitchhiker on a journey to nowhere.
*The “Kwaku The Traveller” experience is incomplete without watching the video
15. Carly Rae Jepsen - “The Loneliest Time” ft. Rufus Wainwright: Carly Rae’s bubblegum era never quite spoke to me; too much sugar sometimes tastes like medicine. “The Loneliest Time” got me, though, cutting CRJ’s saccharine tendencies with a dollop of Rufus Wainwright’s natural melancholy and delivering an anthem that stands with the best of ABBA. Simultaneously campy and tasteful (this is another song where the experience is incomplete without the video), “The Loneliest Time” sounds like a showtune from a musical that doesn’t exist, augmenting the theatrical vibe with the steady 4/4 beat and cinematic strings of the disco era and the pounding pianos of Motown. Both singers stretch their dramatic muscles, hamming up the delivery of key lines (“I’m coming BACK for you, baby!”) without undermining the song’s emotional core. It’s hard not to get swept up in the feeling, especially as the song winds down: the two singers finish harmonizing and the strings play them off into the moonlit night.
14. Friendship - “Hank”*: “Hank” is a song about resisting the void, about absorbing the knowledge of the impermanence of life and unrelentingly soldiering on. Over friendly fingerpicking and a propulsive kick-snare, lead singer Dan Wriggins hammers down with his appealingly flat baritone, painting life as a rusty old machine that you might need to oil or sand, but hey, as long as it’s running today, it might run forever. Fans of David Berman, Lambchop, or Bill Callahan might find something to love here.
*The music video for "Hank" was directed by Joe Pera, so if you dig his whole deal, I'd highly recommend "Hank" and its home album Love The Stranger.
13. Hitkidd & GloRilla - “F.N.F. (Let’s Go)”: Celebratory, confrontational, carefree. GloRilla hits like a bulldozer, Hitkidd’s beat gassing her up with a plonking piano melody. Every line is memorable. What more can I say? B-A-N-G-E-R.
12. Shabason & Krgovich - “I’m Dancing”: Canadian multi-instrumentalist Joseph Shabason first gained recognition for his work on Destroyer’s Kaputt, which used the sonic language of yacht rock to explore the listlessness of modern life. On At Scaramouche, his new album with regular collaborator Nicholas Krgovich, he works with a similar template–sumptuous electric keys, shuffling percussion, chirruping woodwinds–to explore life’s simple pleasures. The mellifluous “I’m Dancing” is a supremely laid back rocker, a slow build that unfolds from a slight giggle to a full belly laugh over the course of five-and-a-half minutes. By the end of the song, as the horns answer the synths and the backbeat grows ever more prominent, Krgovich’s voice drifts into the slipstream, floating away on a pillow of sweet contentment. Call it schooner rock.
11. Asake - “Peace Be Unto You (PBUY)”: Asake makes joyful, crowd-moving music, taking elements of Naija pop and South African amapiano to create a style that’s as inspirational as it is danceable. “Peace Be Unto You (PBUY)” is a perfect summary of his whole deal, starting with a long shaker-and-snare intro that builds and builds until it transforms into one of his trademark choruses: a full-bloom blast of gang vocals, enthusiastic whistles, and pogo-ing 808s. Perfecting a mode that everyone in Africa is trying to catch in a bottle, “PBUY” is an enthusiastic celebration of the communal expression of joy through music, the gang vocals hitting like a full-force gospel choir while the sinuous violin adds a hint of melancholy.
10. Bad Bunny - “Andrea” ft. Buscabulla: Bad Bunny’s opus Un Verano Sin Ti is a rare beast–a streaming era colossus of an album where practically every song is a highlight. There were times that I turned to the beat-shifting “Titi Mi Preguntó” or the scorching “El Apagón” or “Ojitos Lindos,” the sadboy beach anthem, but the song that that impressed me most was “Andrea.” Nestled towards the end of the 23-track runtime, “Andrea” is a masterpiece of downbeat dembow, the insistent riddim transforming amidst the echoing synths and the angelic vocal from Buscabulla’s Raquel Berrios. Over the course of nearly six minutes, El Conejo and Ms. Berrios combine to tell the story of a woman defiantly asserting her independence, judgmental onlookers be damned.
9. Veeze - “let it fly”: Veeze rhymes like he’s in the process of waking from a particularly unrestful night’s sleep, delivering boasts with a guttural monotone in sentences that seem to emerge from a place of half-dreamed logic before trailing off like ellipses. On “Let It Fly,” Veeze proves that his somnambulant style works even better when you speed up the tempo, as he goes in over an aqueous, bass-heavy, Flint-style backing track from Michigan’s own Tye Beats. The Detroit native makes the most of his two minute runtime, perfecting the art of nonchalant flexing (“I hate the strip club, I'm too rich, I don't belong in there”) and piercing his enemies with barbs that dig deeper the more you think about them (“Trappin' ain't for you, boy, you need to get a job”).
8. Nia Archives - “18 & Over”: Nia Archives synthesizes decades’ worth of dance music from across the globe into a kinetic bouillabaisse–listen to her music for more than a minute and you’ll find fully-formed chunks of jungle, samba, R&B, even dubstep. A highlight from her Forbidden Feelingz EP, “18 & Over” is an addictive sonic collage, melding together seemingly disparate elements into a stew that exceeds the sum of its parts. She layers a reggae bassline atop a fast and furious DnB breakbeat, creating a mind-blowing groove that blossoms into a thrilling dubstep throwback before returning to its roots. Graceful, toe-tapping virtuosity.
7. Arctic Monkeys - “There’d Better Be a Mirrorball”: Alex Turner’s transformation from Paul Weller to Jimmy Webb was a sudden and controversial change, one that angered some longtime fans and many of those who hopped on in 2013 with AM (probably the most successful capital R Rock album of the 2010s). It’s unreasonable to expect anyone to make the same kind of music forever, and I love the new Arctic Monkeys, who’ve become an outfit willing and able to fit any stretch of Turner’s songwriting imagination. “There’d Better Be a Mirrorball” is exquisite, an impeccably-arranged picture of a deteriorating love and the last steps taken to save it. Dropping his louche lounge lizard character that dominated the 2019 album Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino on “Mirrorball” and the rest of the recent album The Car, Turner is almost painfully sincere, his voice straining to reach the notes necessary to get his point across. Luckily, the strings are there to help him along, harkening back to a golden era of pop grandeur, when Webb and Glen Campbell made symphonies out of songs.
6. Big Thief - “Spud Infinity”: Life, the universe, and the potato. A cosmic hoedown exploring the eternal questions of our existence, filtered through the lens of the ugliest of our miraculous crops, “Spud Infinity” feels like it’s beamed in from a dimension more peaceful and harmonious than ours. Frontwoman Adrienne Lenker’s sharp pen and playful demeanor elevates the song from stoner silliness to a poignant and good-natured gawking at the absurdity of our everyday lives: “Kiss your body up and down, other than your elbows/'Cause as for your elbows, they're on their own/Wandering like a rolling stone/Rubbing up against the edges of experience." The late John Prine would be proud.
5. Sha EK - “Who You Touch” ft. Mel Glizzy: Bronx drill bruiser Sha EK has a visceral, full-bodied roar that feels like the rap equivalent of that one Spongebob meme. He does not make background music. He’s the rap game Derrick Henry, with the ability to combine that overwhelming power with a finesse that allows him to tip-toe atop lightning fast club beats. He’s at his peak on “Who You Touch,” a high-energy sample-drill masterpiece, jumping out of the speakers and commanding the track like a sergeant. There are multiple versions of “Who You Touch” floating around, including one with Bandmanrill, but the version that made it to streaming pales in comparison to the original*, with its manipulated vox and fluttering guitar painting Sha and Mel as avenging angels who don’t even need to drop their harps before messing you up.
*I sadly haven't been able to find a high-quality reupload anywhere :/
4. The Beths - “Silence Is Golden”: I knew that The Beths had serious chops, and songwriting talent to match, but hot damn did I never expect them to produce something as punishing and exhilarating as “Silence Is Golden.” It combines the spritely melodies of their indie pop forefathers with a backing track furious enough to impress the heaviest of post-hardcore freakazoids (Refused, in particular, would be proud). As always with The Beths, this sound and fury signifies something–they are masters at crafting songs that perfectly suit the subject matter. The squalling noise of the instrumental (“a siren screaming” and “a jet plane engine”) mirrors the narrator’s futile search for a moment’s peace, and though she finds it at the end, I tend to turn on “Silence Is Golden” when I want to embrace the ruckus. The shape of pop to come.
3. Koffee - “Pull Up”: Koffee x Jae5 is an indefatigable combination, his tasteful organ swells and airy vocal samples a perfect match for her ebullient melodies. “Pull Up” was an instant classic–nothing too fancy, just the year’s best chorus augmented with a tasteful bit of sax. It’s an instant mood booster, a party anthem that makes anyone who sings it feel like they’re 100 feet tall.
2. Duke Deuce - “JUST SAY THAT” ft. GloRilla: No artist brought me more joy in 2022 than Duke Deuce, who supplemented two albums worth of head-slamming Memphis music with his hysterical “Gangsta Walk Wednesdays.” “JUST SAY THAT” was his crowning achievement, a gleefully ridiculous and obnoxiously bombastic banger. Metro Boomin and Allen Ritter build a speaker-annihilating monster out of Addinsell’s “Warsaw Concerto,” and both rappers take turns going as dumb as they can. GloRilla leads off with one of the best guest verses of the year, furiously steamrolling chumps through gritted teeth. Duke holds serve, raising the energy level with his signature ad libs. “WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUCK” indeed.
1. Ka - “Ascension”: Brownsville rhymer Ka earns deserved praise for his evocative pen and gravelly gravitas, but he deserves equal praise as a producer. “Ascension” is a work of art: strings thrum like sand falling through an hourglass, distorted voices interject like a choir of the damned, and spiky guitar licks emerge out of the aether. The meditative repetition of the instrumental recalls the best of Philip Glass–call him Ka-yaannisqatsi. The 50-year-rapper does justice to his mesmerizing instrumental, digging deep into his past, analyzing the core memories molded him as a man. His astounding second verse methodically lays out Ka’s struggles to escape generational trauma, a titanic task made more difficult by the mounting tragedies suffered during his upbringing. Ka’s emergence from hell to become one of the voices of his generation is a miracle, and his words are well worth considering, his moral compass pointing true north as he offers sage advice for anyone trying to follow in his footsteps: “If you a deep person, keep searching, amass facts/I believe they call him father, cause you supposed to get past that/If never won, run every one like it's the last lap/Handing ends to family and friends, never expecting that cash back.”
Hope you enjoyed the blurbs, here's the playlist and the rest of the list.
26. Cash Cobain & Chow Lee - “JHoliday” (Prod. by Cash Cobain)
27. Gunna - “flooded” (Prod. by Young Twix)
28. Bad Boy Chiller Crew - “Always Be My Baby Boy” ft. Becce J
29. Skeng - “London” (Prod. by Droptop Records & DiTruth Records)
30. Ice Spice - “Munch (Feelin U)” (Prod. by RIOTUSA)
31. Panda Bear & Sonic Boom - “Edge Of The Edge”
32. Melody’s Echo Chamber - “Alma”
33. Fireboy DML - “Timoti” (Prod. by Kel P)
34. Zahsossa & DSturdy - ”Shake Dhat” (Prod. by DJ Crazy 215)
35. Rosalía - “DESPECHA”
36. Dehd - “Bad Love”
37. TEXAS BOYS - “Awready”
38. Earl Sweatshirt - “Fire In The Hole” (Prod. by Black Noi$e)
39. Residente - “This Is Not America” ft. Ibeyi
40. Yaya Bey - “Alright”
41. PGF Nuk - “Waddup” ft. Polo G (Prod. by Fatman Beatzzz)
42. Makaya McCraven - “So Ubuji”
43. Natanael Cano & Codiciado - “De A De Veras”
44. Alex G - “Runner”
45. Mediopicky - “Ají Titi” ft. Diego Raposo
46. Sault - “Angel”
47. Tony Shhnow - “Show U” (Prod. by GeeohhS)
48. Ari Lennox - “Hoodie�� (Prod. by Elite)
49. Toro Y Moi - “Magazine”
50. Wizkid - “Money & Love”
51. Beyoncé - “CHURCH GIRL” (Prod. by No ID, et. al)
52. Cloakroom - “Doubts”
53. Brent Faiyaz - “LOOSE CHANGE” (Prod. by Beat Butcha, No ID, Raphael Saddiq)
54. Octo Octa - “Stars & Water”
55. Burna Boy - “Last Last” (Prod. by Ruuben, MD$, Off & Out & Chopstix)
56. George Riley - “Jealousy” (Prod. by Vegyn)
57. Real Lies - “Your Guiding Hand”
58. Kabza De Small - “Eningi” ft. Njelic, Simmy & Mhaw Keys
59. MJ Lenderman - “Hangover Game”
60. Mr Twin Sister - “Resort”
61. RealYungPhil - “Everything We Need” (Prod. by EvilGiane)
62. Hikaru Utada - “Somewhere Near Marseilles”
63. Cold Mega - “LIGHT IN THE SKY”
64. 03 Greedo - “Pourin” ft. BlueBucksClan (Prod. by Mike Free)
65. Fievel Is Glauque - “The River”
66. Rob49 - “Vulture Island” (Prod. by B.loadin)
67. SG Goodman - “When You Say It”
68. Ralfy The Plug - “Dynamic Duo” ft. Drakeo The Ruler (Prod. by ThankYouFizzle)
69. Sideshow - “SALT KILLS SNAILS” (Prod. by BEATSBYSAV)
70. Zion & Lennox - “Brisa” ft. Danny Ocean (Prod. by Jimmix & Manybeats)
71. Sudan Archives - “Freakalizer”
72. Fred Again… - “Faisal (London Bridge Station” (Piano Version)
73. SleazyWorld Go - “Sleazy Flow” ft. Lil Baby (Prod. by Rage Santana)
74. Jenn Carter - “Joker” (Prod. by YoungMadz)
75. Megan Thee Stallion - “Plan B” (Prod. by Hitmaka, et. al)
76. Junglepussy - “Foreign Exchange” (Prod. by Bohemia Lynch)
77. Sessa - “Canção de Cura”
78. The Afghan Whigs - “Jyja”
79. CEO Trayle - “Alter Ego 2” (Prod. by OG Parker, et. al)
80. Hitkidd & Enchanting - “Kater To Me” (Prod. by Hitkidd)
81. Special Interest - “LA Blues”
82. Charli XCX - “Twice”
83. Dazy - “On My Way”
84. Alvvays - “Pomeranian Spinster”
85. Ade - “Opposites”
86. Pheelz - “Finesse” ft. BNXN (Prod. by Michkel)
87. Stromae - “L’enfer”
88. Metro Boomin - “Metro Spider” ft. Young Thug (Prod. by Metro Boomin)
89. Quelle Chris - “Alive Ain’t Always Living” (Prod. by Quelle Chris & Chris Keys)
90. Tears For Fears - “Rivers Of Mercy”
91. RXK Nephew - “Saoirse Ronan”
92. Wiki & Subject 5 - “Silent Meeting” ft. DJ Lucas (Prod. by Subject 5)
93. Chief Keef - “Chief So” (Prod. by Young Malcolm)
94. Stacks - “Above Ground”
95. Baby Stone Gorillas - “Keep Goin’” (Prod. by Gotdamnitdupri)
96. Stoneda5th ft. R3DaChilliman - “Beat The Odds” (Prod. by Reconboy & Bzbands)
97. Pi’erre Bourne - “Love Drill”
98. Rauw Alejandro - “No Me Sueltes”
99. Romeo - “Halfway Out The Door”
100. Yeat - “Rich Minion” (Prod. by Lotto)
#duke deuce#koffee#sha ek#bandmanrill#the beths#big thief#arctic monkeys#nia archives#veeze#bad bunny#asake#glorilla#carly rae jepsen#babyface ray#black sherif#kendrick lamar#rema#Spotify
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Favorite Americana Albums of 2022
Every year, trying to nail down my favorite Americana albums of the year is a chore. This year I didn't get a chance to listen to as many albums as I usually do, hence a Nigel Tufnel approved 11 instead of my usual 20, but that didn't make it any less difficult. Weeding down to 11 left out some stellar albums like River Whyless' 'Monoflora', Marcus King's 'Young Blood' and Erin Rae's 'Lighten Up.' They're all worthy, but just got pushed out by albums that just clicked for me slightly more.
This year's list is notable for the number of smaller acts on it. A lot of America's heavy hitters (Isbell, Yola, Giddens, Jarosz) didn't release albums in 2022, which let some artists who might have gotten pushed down the list to shine.
Like always, this isn't a list of the “best” albums, but just my favorite. The ones that spent the most time in my shuffle. Where I reviewed the album I've included a link to the full review. Where not, I've included a Youtube link to a standout song from the album.
11. Jake Blount- The New Faith
The genius of Jake Blount's 'The New Faith' is that it's a concept album made up in large part of songs written by other people across a wide range of times. To tell a tale of a people navigating a world devastated by climate change, Blount found the apocalyptic potential of songs like Rosetta Tharpe's “Didn't It Rain” and made the most of them with just his vocal inflection. Bonus points for being the latest to incorporate a rapper into Americana music, an increasing trend that I am totally behind.
10. Leyla McCalla- Breaking the Thermometer
The last of Our Native Daughters to knock it out of the park with a solo album, Leyla McCalla also went semi-concept with her Breaking the Thermometer. The result of a commission by Duke University involving Radio Haiti, the pirate radio station broadcasting messages and traditional music to a nation beset by oppressive regimes, McCalla uses clips from the station to set the tone for an album that traces her own Haitian roots. As would be expected from McCalla, the instrumental aspect is near perfection.
9. Aoife O'Donovan- Age of Apathy
Aoife O'Donovan is as consistent as any artist in Americana music. The gentle fingerpicked melodies and almost fragile sounding voice match perfectly with the themes of Age of Apathy, an exploration of the devices and means we have to become more connected than ever, and how they took away the quiet spaces where contemplation and peace happen. A guest sit in from Allison Russell certainly doesn't hurt.
8. Keb' Mo'- Good to Be
Keb' Mo's blues has been pulling tinges of Americana and folk music in for over a decade now. The mix fits Keb's style, which has always been much more bright and positive than your typical bluesman. On Good to Be, Keb' Mo' bounced between his current home of Nashville and his childhood home in Compton (literally. He bought his childhood home and turned it into a studio). The result is an album that touches on old-school blues (“All Dressed Up”, “Good Strong Woman”), breezy California soul (“62 Chevy, “Sunny and Warm”), and the album's highlight, “Louder”, Keb's channeling of David Bowie's “Changes” in which he assures his fellow boomers that the young are ready to assert themselves. “It's about to get louder. It's about to get real,” he croons, sounding like a proud papa.
7. Secret Emchy Society- Gold Country/Country Gold
California's Secret Emchy Society is a leader in the increasingly public Queer Country movement. But SES doesn't rep Queer Country with preachy message songs. Instead, they endeavor to out-sing, out-booze, out-fight, and out-party the best of the outlaws and dare you to tell them they don't belong at the table they just drank you under. Take “I Murdered Your Bourbon” with its “Well they say ole Jesus turned water to wine. If he'd tried a bit harder, could have turned it to rye.” It's not subtle. It's not a gentle exploration of the human condition. It isn't supposed to be. This is a jumping honky tonk in CD format.
6. Colin Hay- The Now and the Evermore
Former Man at Work Colin Hay has always been known for his comedic timing, enough so that he once played the comedy tent at Bonnaroo. So when he says he's releasing an album dealing with themes of mortality, my immediate thought was “this is Colin's pandemic album. It's going to be dark. But it's still going to be fun.” I was right. There is a melancholy that persists on The Now and the Evermore that is mitigated by Hay's gentle croon and eternal optimism. Throughout he faces mortality, both of friends and his own, with a sly sense of humor that seems willing to invite Death in for tea before chatting up the mysteries of the ever after.
5. Molly Tuttle and Golden Highway- Crooked Tree
I've seen some people say that Molly Tuttle's new bluegrass band project, Golden Highway, is her true form. I'm not ready to go that far because I still love Molly's more Americana output but there's no doubt that Tuttle's having fun with the project and she shines here. It's not something you can feel on studio albums often but Tuttle's joy is in every note and her status as a monster of acoustic guitar remains. I've give the hot take here and say Molly is a better guitarist than Billy Strings.
4. Miko Marks and the Resurrectors- Feel Like Going Home
Miko Marks was my find of Americanafest 2022, her performance just before her new album Feel Like Going Home was released. Lucky me. Like her performance, the album is impressive. Marks is the best since Yola at mixing country, gospel, Memphis blues, and Muscle Shoals soul sounds into one cohesive vision. Throughout, Marks' voice soars above gospel choirs while her band, the aptly named Resurrectors, throw rock and roll licks that could raise the dead.
3. Regina Spektor- Home, Before and After
Nobody does a balance between wistful and playful like Regina Spektor. Both are prevalent throughout Home, Before and After, whether on the schoolroom rhyming “Loveology” or the epic journey that is her almost 9 minute “Spacetime Fairytale.” Her exploration of the nuances of relationships leaves no stone unturned, delving into obsession, devastating loss, and even love of convenience (the last delivered with chuckle-inducing frankness on album standout “Sugarman”).
2. John Moreland- Birds in the Ceiling
John Moreland has always been an artist who mastered the art of the understatement. You won't find strident calls to action or snarling protest songs on Birds in the Ceiling (somewhat ironic considering Moreland came to Americana from the punk scene). As is his wont, Moreland takes on a divided nation, the loss of friends to cultish political demagoguery, and late stage capitalism (on the album's best song, “Cheap Idols Dressed in Expensive Garbage”) with an even and rough hewn voice that makes lines like “I told you the truth and you told me it was treason” all the more impactful. This is easily John Moreland's most mature, most cohesive, and most well-produced album of his career.
1. Tami Neilson- Kingmaker
Most years I have a pretty solid idea of what my favorite album is, but the gap between it and #2 is rarely so wide. 2022 was the year of Tami Neilson and it wasn't even close. The New Zealander by way of Canada had an entire pandemic to process the #metoo movement that immediately preceded it and answered with Kingmaker, an album full of feminist ferocity. The adage may go “behind every good man is a good woman” but Neilson makes it clear that the women who populate the songs on Kingmaker are not interested in being behind anyone. From “Mama's Talkin'” with its “he cries cancel culture anytime anyone calls him out” to album standout “Careless Woman” which finds Neilson looking at the kind of woman warned against in all those '50s educational films and admiring her, noting that “I wanna care less.” But it's not all rockabilly feminism as Neilson and Willie Nelson duet on a touching tribute to family lost on “Beyond the Stars.” It's a particularly topical song in a time when tens of thousands lost loved ones to a pandemic. Taken as a whole, it's an album that would be a career album for most artists. Neilson shows no intention of slowing down, though, so who knows what's to come?
#2022#best of 2022#americana music#americana#album review#review#concerthopper#new music#music#classic country#bluegrass
1 note
·
View note
Photo
Tori Amos – The Met – Philadelphia, PA – May 9, 2022
Surprisingly, even though Tori Amos has hit the 30th anniversary of her breakthrough solo debut Little Earthquakes, she only pulled two songs from that classic album onto her recent show setlist at the Met in Philly – and neither of them would be the most obvious choices. Particularly a surprise was the album title track, which came early in the set. Then the show was closed out with an intense version of “Precious Things” which is a fan favorite if never one of the four official singles from the album.
In fact, Amos is confident enough with her body of work – and with her audiences – that she barely even touched on the songs which would be considered her “hit” singles. Really, there was just a jaunty take of “Cornflake Girl” right before the encore. Instead she was more than content to take the crowd through an intriguing mix of fan favorites, album tracks, B-sides and obscurities.
“We’ve got some surprises in store for tonight,” she explained as she led into “Little Earthquakes” early on. “We’ve been trying to welcome songs every day, but they are just fucking difficult.”
It is also the first time in quite a while that Amos has traveled with a combo – drummer Ash Soan and bassist Jon Evans, as well as Amos straddling two keyboards (a grand piano and an electric piano) situated in center stage – giving the proceedings a fuller, more up-tempo vibe than her common solo piano tours. (The last time I can remember seeing her perform live with a complete band must have been in either 1994 or 1996.)
Amos was obviously moved by the state of the world today, touching on songs that vaguely parallel the war in Ukraine (“Russia” and “Take to the Sky”) and the tenuous state of women in the modern world (the show closing “Precious Things” and set opener “Juarez”). Then again, she was also open to the escape of “Sweet Sangria” and the buoyant tunefulness of “Bouncing off the Clouds.”
The one cover version of the night (assuming you don’t count the little snatch of Carole King’s “I Feel the Earth Move” which was woven into Amos’ original “Take to the Sky”) was a heartrending solo piano cover of Bruce Springsteen’s hit “The Streets of Philadelphia.” Amos claimed she was not planning to play it, but during sound check the song willed itself into the playlist and could not be denied. It’s not the first time in her career that she has played that song here (after all, it is about the city she was in…), however, it’s always a welcome treat to hear her interpretation of the music of a man that she referred to on stage as “one of our great songwriters.”
This was the first time that Amos has played in Philadelphia since the death of her mother, who lived in nearby Maryland and had often attended shows in town. (In fact in 1992, the first time I saw Amos in concert on the Little Earthquakes tour, I was seated right next to her mother.)
The show was obviously a very heartfelt homecoming for Amos. And Philly obviously missed her too.
Jay S. Jacobs
Copyright ©2022 PopEntertainment.com. All rights reserved. Posted: May 10, 2022.
Photos by Chris Sanchez-Paralta and Jay S. Jacobs © 2022.
3 notes
·
View notes
Audio
The Sound Of Science - s/t LP - Castles In Space presents a set of catchy folktronic songs about science! With a super cover by Nick Taylor.
Dean Honer is a Sheffield based musician, producer and founding member of many iconic electronic music bands including The All Seeing I, I Monster, The Moonlandingz and The Eccentronic Research Council. He has worked as a producer for bands such as The Human League, Add N to X and Roisin Murphy.
Kevin Pearce is a songwriter from Essex. He has received plaudits for his work from The Independent, The Guardian and Mojo magazine. His music has been used on HBO programmes in the USA as well as BBC TV shows in the UK.
Dean explains the background and inspiration for the album:
“The idea for The Sound of Science had been in my head for a number of years.
“Being a parent of young kids I endured a lot of very cliched and awful children's songs that were attempting to combine education and entertainment. These quickly became a form of torture to me, something that the CIA might use in covert operations to flush out a drug cartel from their hideout. It became apparent that there was a desperate need for informative songs and music that were appealing and bearable for both children and their parents.
“I recruited my friend Kevin Pearce, (who I have produced and collaborated with on various projects over the years), to bounce ideas off and who could put together a nice series of chords and could sing! Which helps when writing songs. Kevin is from an acoustic folk background and I'm more of a one finger synth player in the Human League tradition. I thought it would be interesting to mix the folk and electronic element together for children’s songs.
“We then recruited various artists to sing on the tracks including PsychFolk singer Sharron Kraus, performance artist Heidi Kilpaleinen (HK119), synth goddess Tara Busch, artist and ex Add N to X man Steven Claydon and vocalists Liza Violet and Tom O'Hara.
“Kevin and I are both interested in science and astronomy so that was the obvious direction for the album. Writing songs about various scientific subjects was interesting and a challenge. Aiming them at children meant that we didn't need a PHD for the lyrics. It became more about conveying a sense of wonder and presenting some amazing facts to audience.
“In 2018 we were asked by Sheffield University to work on a live version of the album and to collaborate with some of their senior scientists on the project. This turned The Sound of Science into a live performance spectacular involving scientific experiments on stage, a live band performing the songs, plus 3D visuals created by Human in Sheffield. We performed 3 shows over two days and the reaction from kids and their parents was amazing. More festival shows due in 2020 were curtailed because of the pandemic, but we hope to get the show back on the road in 2022.”
The Sound of Science is available in gatefold coloured vinyl and CD editions. The package includes an accompanying booklet beautifully designed and Illustrated by Nick Taylor for spectral-studio.co.uk
All songs written and performed by Dean Honer and Kevin Pearce.
Produced by Dean Honer.
Vocals by Kevin Pearce, Sharron Kraus and the Verve Children's Choir of Sheffield.
Featuring guest vocals by:
Liza Violet - Photosynthesis (Love the Green Machines).
Tom O'Hara - What Makes A Sound.
Steven Claydon - Everything's Made of Atoms.
HK119 - Global Warming.
Tara Busch - The Solar System.
Henry and Ellis Goddard - A Total Solar Eclipse.
Rebecca Hammond - A Total Solar Eclipse.
Science notes by Dr Nate Adams.
#The Sound Of Science#electronic#folk#folktronica#sheffield#uk#radiophonic#dean honer#kevin pearce#sharron kraus#tara busch
6 notes
·
View notes
Photo
TAKE ME TO THE RIVER: NEW ORLEANS (2022)
Featuring The Neville Brothers, Dr. John, Irma Thomas, Ledisi, Mystikal, G-Eazy, Snoop Dogg, WIlliam Bell, Anders Osborne, Galactic, Mannie Fresh, Preservation Hall Jazz Band, Christian Scott, Donald Harrison, Big Freedia, Ani DiFranco, Alex Ebert of Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, PJ Morton of Maroon 5, Rebirth Brass Band, Dirty Dozen Brass Band, Soul Rebels, Voice of the Wetlands, The Givers, Dumpstaphunk, Bobby Kimball, Naughty Professors, Cheeky Blakk, Lost Bayou Ramblers, Walter Wolfman Washington, Master P, Jon Batiste and Davell Crawford.
Narrated by John Goodman.
Written by Martin Shore and Robert Gordon.
Directed by Martin Shore.
Distributed by 360 Distribution Inc. 110 minutes. Not Rated.
About eight years ago, record producer turned documentary film director Martin Shore released Take Me To the River, his look at the music scene of Memphis, Tennessee – particularly the legendary soul label Stax Records. In that film, Shore got together a lot of the surviving sidemen from Stax – and some of the front men like Bobby “Blue” Bland, William Bell and Booker T. Jones – and hooked them up with a newer generation of musicians (mostly hip-hop-based), sat them down in the studio and recorded the ensuing musical fireworks. In between generation-bridging performances, the film gave a brief historical background on the musical and racial resonance of Memphis soul.
Years later, Shore has moved even deeper south… by almost 400 miles – for the second film in the series, Take Me To the River: New Orleans. Like Memphis, New Orleans has a very culturally distinct and evocative music scene. Unlike the mostly soulful sound of last film, the Nola music is more of a gumbo – a mélange of soul, jazz and zydeco roots mixed with bounce beats and native American and African influences, all mixed together into a spicy jambalaya.
Like the first film one takes some of the classic names of New Orleans music – Irma Thomas, The Neville Brothers, Dr. John, The Preservation Hall Jazz Band – and sets them up with jam sessions with some of the youngsters on the Nola scene to record new versions of old classic tunes. Not everyone is from New Orleans, though. Two artists return from the Memphis sessions, William Bell and Snoop Dogg, who team up with G-Eazy to do a rethink of Allen Toussaint’s “Yes We Can Can.” (And Snoop and G-Eazy, of course, are both from California.)
The film starts off on a high note as Grammy-winning singer/songwriter Ledisi is paired up with soul mama Irma Thomas – and the younger artist’s enthusiasm for being in her idol’s proximity is contagious. (Thomas, old pro that she is, takes it all in stride and works hard to make her partner comfortable.)
This leads to a whole set of team-ups – some inspired and some a tiny bit awkward. Aaron Neville and his brothers show that they have perfect soul (and Aaron’s voice is still a thing of extreme beauty.) The mashup of the Soul Rebels and bounce hip-hop artist 5th Ward Weebie is a total jam. Dr. John gets to play his classic tune “Jock-a-mo” (which is better known by its alternate title “Iko Iko”) with the grandson of the song’s writer.
However, sometimes the hip-hop interludes don’t necessarily add to the classic song they are celebrating. Sorry, just like in Memphis, Snoop Dogg dropping rhymes in the middle of his song (“Forgot To Be a Lover” in Memphis, “Yes We Can Can” here) is more of a distraction than a positive addition to the song. Still, in general, these collabs are a life-affirming look at generations of talent bridging the years.
Unfortunately like the first chapter, by the time this film is hitting theaters many of the artists interviewed and performing here have passed on, including Dr. John, Art and Charles Neville of The Neville Brothers (Art was also in the Meters), and young bounce artist 5th Ward Weebie. There is also an extended appreciation of legendary New Orleans songwriter Allen Toussaint, who also died early on in the filming. (Toussaint was not interviewed for the film, nor did he play in any of the musical collaborations, but the film has a good amount of footage of him and the collab of “Yes We Can Can” was performing one of his better-known songs.) The knowledge of their passing gives the celebration of music a bit of a bittersweet feel.
Of course, New Orleans has a long tradition of turning wakes into celebrations and Take Me To the River: New Orleans honors this ritual by mixing the happy with the sad, the mournful with the tuneful. New Orleans knows how to throw a party, and here is further proof.
Jay S. Jacobs
Copyright ©2022 PopEntertainment.com. All rights reserved. Posted: April 29, 2022.
youtube
1 note
·
View note
Text
youtube
When Jay Mack first heard, "Captain," it was 2022, and the song was still incomplete. I initially sent him a rough draft of what Erich and I had recorded up to that point. Once he had the rough cut in his possession, he pressed me for a third verse as often as he could. I assured him I was working on one. He said, "Let me know when it's all done, I got an idea for it!"
Fast forward to 2024 and you get to witness that very concept from Jay, brought to life, in the manner in which he envisioned it. When him and Timmy Sramowitz sent me the image they were going to paint, I was speechless.
I had to reach out to Jimmy Giambrone, so he could capture this creative process at the Mural Maker studio in Toms River, NJ. Having Slimbo on set to shoot and edit this video was a must for all of us. His style of cinematography sets the scene like no other.
The mix-mastering Champ, Matty Horant, popped in to rhyme a few of his favorite scriptures. He plays a vital part of the masterpiece. He has mastered every song of ours for the past decade, not just this one. Here's a brother/audio engineer who's not in the spotlight or even out for the shine, yet keeps the vocals and instruments radio ready every time.
The day Erich 'Off The' Wald tailored the instrumental bed as I recorded the third verse was an unforgettable session. The additional chords he implemented. The organ. The dropouts. Everything fell into place/play perfectly, and we just knew we had something special. Those were the final adjustments made before the Field Day album was bounced/sent off for digital release/physical manufacturing.
This video is such a tremendous blessing to be able to present. To collaborate with Jay Mack and Timmy is a dream come true. To glorify the one Who gave us all of our talents and got us through ... that's just giving the credit where all the credit is due.
music and lyrics by P.Whelan and E.Wald
concept and mural by Jay Mack and Tim Sramowicz (Mural Makers) shot and edited by Jimmy Giambrone
location: Mural Makers Studio, Toms River, NJ
music mastered by Matt Horant
#shoreShot#offTheWald#muralMakers#JayMack#TimSramowicz#JimmyGiambrone#MattHorant#Captain#FieldDay#album#new video#new music#shorestruly#seaScribe#hip hop#graffart#graffiti#artwork#wall murals#captivated#real rap#guardinTheState#realshoreaboutit#releaseRotationSplash#masterpiece#OnlyTheLordKnows#youCan#UseHisLightAsAGuide#youCantLose#doingRight
0 notes
Text
youtube
I started listening to Goose in mid-2019, which means that I haven't been a fan quite long enough to make the archetypal hipster claim that I was into them before they were cool. It also means, though, that in some corner of my brain I still think of "Pancakes" as a "new" Goose song, even though according to the results of a quick Google search, they played it for the first time way back on 1/27/22, and have played it forty-plus times since.*
As with most Great Blue/Peter-written songs that Goose integrates into their catalog, fan reception to "Pancakes" was somewhat mixed initially. Rick writes the majority of the songs for the band, and there's the perception of a bit of a Lennon/McCartney stylistic thing going on within Goose where Rick writes the "serious" songs and Peter writes the "goofy" songs. That's simplifying things a bit (see, for example, "Red Bird," which was written by Peter and is one of the band's most emotionally touching songs), but generally speaking it's a perception used as a rubric by a lot of fans who then see Peter's "goofy" songs as ruining the flow of a set/record/etc. that might be otherwise be full of more "serious" songs like "Silver Rising" or "Seekers On The Ridge."
For me personally, Goose debuted "Pancakes" right as I was reaching the peak of my Tame Impala fandom, which was great because to me the song sounds a lot like a Tame Impala tribute musically, if not necessarily lyrically.
As Goose seems to do with a lot of songs, nearly every early version of "Pancakes" from the debut on featured a huge jam or series of jams (see "Atlas Dogs," "Thatch," etc. for other examples of this). Over time, though, the song has seemed to generate less interesting or extensive improv from the band and has settled in instead as a kind of mid-set (or sometimes set-two-opening) rocker. So, I noticed when they took a page from the 2022 playbook during this version from 11/7 and went deep.
The song proper usually (or maybe always?) starts as this version does, with a bit of space/noise jamming that culminates with Peter encouraging the audience to help clap out the opening beat. Then we drop into the Tame Impala-ish main riff and some legitimately goofy-but-catchy (McCartney again!) lyrics about...pancakes.
One of the things I find myself liking more and more about Goose these days is how they manage to weld seemingly disparate parts of songs together to form a cohesive whole. "Feel It Now" is my current favorite example of this, but I'm sure I'll write about that tune eventually on here. With "Pancakes," the Tame Impala-like verse careens into what is, frankly, a very piano-heavy, Phish-like chorus, and the juxtaposition of the two just shouldn't work, but somehow it does.
Then, the third part of the song kicks in at 4:10 in this version: this wonderfully anthemic guitar part from Rick that launches into the jam. They used to sit on this part of the song a bit longer and play it a bit faster, and I kind of miss that...but on the other hand, now we get to the improv even faster!
The jam starts from a relatively sparse place, with Rick and Peter bouncing melodies back and forth for a minute or so while the rest of the band continues to hang on to "Pancakes" proper. Then, Rick and Peter coalesce on a neat syncopated thing (technical language only, folks!) and everyone else slowly moves away from the composed part of the song (Trevor gives up on the song's outro bassline last).
Right around 6:30, the drums start in on a less passive, more driving beat, and Rick moves out from the syncopation to something more melodic and then we're really cruising along. I like that throughout this section, Peter keeps playing a repeating "sample" of sorts on the piano, making sure to inject a bit of tension into the jam.
Interestingly, Peter keeps this tension up even as the jam starts to turn into a quintessential example of a major-key bliss jam, riding over a couple of peaks around 9:30 and 10:30. Finally, as the jam continues to build in intensity, he finally switches (one hand?) over to the organ to add to Rick's energy.
Things start to take a slightly darker turn starting at 12:30 as Rick signals a change in direction with a few notes. Rick keeps soloing through this (maybe minor key, my ear is terrible for stuff like this) but for my money the focus has shifted here to Peter and Trevor, who are both just rolling along on piano and bass, respectively. In a few places here, Rick seems to echo Peter's stuttering, staccato playing on the guitar, which is neat.
At 14:30, the band switches into full-on tension-building mode for a brief bit, and we get to see the light rig go absolutely bonkers. Rick's tone at 15:00 is gnarly, and I absolutely love it. More of this, please!
A little bit of wonderfully evil piano from Peter finally propels us out of the darkness and back into the "Pancakes" outro to end the song.
This is one of two songs I'm writing up from 11/7 because it was one of my absolute favorite nights from the Euro tour, so I'll be back shortly with a thing (again, technical terms only!) on "Thatch."
* Fun fact: I didn't realize until literally now that the version of "Pancakes" I saw on 2/3/22 in Portland was only the second time the band had ever played the tune live. Neat!
1 note
·
View note
Text
(226-240 albums etc that I’ve listened to this year, copied from twitter) (now with art. [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17])
names and thoughts below cut
226/ Rabit - Baptizm (2015)
insanely subdued intro
not sure about the high pitch aliasing in "Straps"
"bloody eye" is pretty wild. really dirty percussion on some warbly synths. i'm marking this as the standout in a cool, moody EP
---
227/ Common Creation - Sunset Seance (2023)
lower tempo + breaks on top of a wobby sound. my favorite :D
i think this is the type of sound SGX would make if he were active today. big beats, beefy bass, lush chord textures flitting beneath it all. it's a delight
---
228/ VA - Infloresce & Friends Charity Festival (2023)
poor "Gentle Leafy Road", cute banger with a late penalty
"make it make sense" bbbbbbbbanger
"just existing (in a good way)" talk about good vibes wowow. personal winner
tho "Together" is a well deserved actual 1st place.
---
229/ VA - YEA VIDEOGAME (2023)
as usual, a grab bag. some personal highlights:
"coaxed from the ether" beej is kicking ass god damn
"cow descent" hmm yes this is bang er.
"Skyscraper Playground" yeah!! bounce!!
"KirbYEAdventure" i adore how well this captures the CUTE of kirby
---
230/ VA - TINYMOD GRANDPRIX (2023)
as usual, mixed bag etc etc.
2 hilights:
(4k) "3n14ks24k4u" is insane for its size. basically just a good song in general.
(48k) "light dinner 6" !!! the most nagz&vhiiula sounding thing ive heard in 20 years. holy shit!
---
231/ VA - BotB Advent Calendar 2022 (2023)
absolute grabbag ofc. ighlights:
(c64)
"FL Studio SUX" oh holy shit that's a certified BANGER.
EZ fav
(fakebit)
"Rooftop Wealth Gap RPG" hits that midi itch but a little harder.
(zxbeep)
"Beepbeep Hoedown" astoundingly soft for 1bit wtf
---
232/ VA - Spring Tracks XII (2023)
mixed bag ofc. hilits:
"Ophanim" ae-esque! twisting and turning and unfolding! slightly too long but like. god damn.
"witness protection" gets its title bc all the ppl responsible for this scoring so low are in [title].
"GENERAL SERUM" hey wtf.
---
233/ VA - Winter Chip XVIII (2023)
mixed bag etc. personal hi lites:
"10 Celsius Winter" crunchy!
"not here" spooky wild textures. i love warble.
"Echonomicon" basically magic. 90idm hella.
"Status Chill" yooooooooooo
---
234/ Aphex Twin - Blackbox Life Recorder EP (2023)
the title "in a room" captures the overall vibe of this EP: lax.
parallax mix feels the most like an dusty artifact from the archives (in a cool way)
kinda loose overall but happy to have another drop of afx
---
235/ Tigran Hamasyan - Mockroot (2015)
there's a certain intensity to these vamps. its often followed by serenity.
i feel like a picky eater when i say this but i swear some of these songs (f.ex "Entertain Me") would kick ASS with a metal timbre.
anyway: "The Grid".
---
236/ Starkey - Odyssey Five (2016)
lush, slightly haunting. deeply nighttime music.
"Tropical" is a misleading title for a wild and spooky banger. check out those BENDS.
probably personal highlight? not to discount the more atmospheric stuff but…
---
237/ Oval - Popp (2016)
yeah i guess it is a little more pop, huh.
"ku" has the wild soundscape, transient weirdness, and pitch bends that feels 100% like what oval would make in 2016. perhaps fav?
id call that a representative track anyway. shoutout to "fu"'s chops as well
---
August
---
238/ Lanark Artefax - Windox Rush (2015)
"it's like afx" oh damn it rly is
is that detuned chords too??? might just be lush but i think there's detuning here.
"The Angel Problem" prolly fav.
overall more "chill" than "electro" but still.
---
239/ hizmi - Soak (2021)
absolutely unthinkable that this is coming purely from a stock X68000??????
it sounds so full of intention. insane. beautiful.
"Rivulet" is just an unrestrained ilkae track like cmon
---
240/ Skee Mask - Shred (2016)
smooth like a cold drink.
title track "Shred 08" is kind of the outlier, being actually heavy. feels like a melody-deprived version what i expected bblr to be lol sorry rdj.
i think the fuzzy clickyness of "HAL Conv." is my fav tho
---
next page
1 note
·
View note
Last Seen Blogs
foxeymulder
yeet or be yeeted
haenk
collage. l'art colle. collage.
happilywisecollector
Untitled
lovelyfreyamikaelson
Mystic “Death” Falls
bronxquinn
Untitled