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justanotherwannabeclassic · 4 years

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prompt 2: quarantine

For those of you who still pay attention to this nonsense blog, I’ve been working with @distant-rose on creating this wildly expansive second-generation Marvel AU. It’s pretty wild, has 20+ AUs of itself, well over 100 characters, and a timeline spanning 40+ years. These are their stories.

Characters: Francis Barton, Kassandra Page, Matthew Natchios, Ian Rogers, Gerry Drew, Bekka LeBeau, Megan Frost

Prompt 2: Quarantine

Dates: November 10-24, 2019

Day 1

“Since we’re stuck together for the foreseeable, I think we need to establish some ground rules.” Francis Barton laid down a pad of white paper and pulled out a pen. “It should, hopefully, make this a seamless experience while the Richards figure out if we’re going to die horrible, painful alien-virus related deaths.”

There were worse things than being quarantined in a SHIELD facility after being exposed to some sort of alien virus. They could all be dead, for one. They could also be undergoing some weird mutations -- NOT THAT THERE WAS ANYTHING WRONG WITH MUTANTS -- and grow six or seven different limbs. That would be worse. Really, considering those two options, Francis Barton was certain that quarantine was the best case scenario. But he also knew however long stuck in one place with little-to-no outside interaction was bound to be hell. As such, rules needed to be established.

“That sounds like a very El thing to say,” Kassandra Page, absolute badass and love of his potentially shorter life, noted from her spot on the table. She didn’t even bother to look up from her book.

“Well, she’s the one who gave me the idea.” So what if he wasn’t the one to come up with the rules thing? El was a smart cookie. El was also safe and moderately happy thousands of miles away in New Orleans. That didn’t stop her from blowing up his phone with several texts. He was sure she was doing it to the three other members of their quarantine cohort.

“Should I contact the Xavier School and have them send over their roommate contracts?” Ian Rogers asked drly.

“That sounds like a great idea!”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“See? That’s not helpful in establishing positive roommate relationships.” Francis argued. “Where’s Matt?”

“In the bedroom trying to convince his pregnant girlfriend from murdering him before the virus does, by the sound of it,” Gerry Drew commented. “For what it’s worth, the ground rules sound like a good idea. I was going to suggest it myself, but grew distracted finishing the mission report. Work never ends, even in quarantine.”

“Has my brother-in-law punched you in the face?” Ian twisted in his chair to look over at Gerry.

“No.”

“Wonders never cease.”

Kass glanced between the two men and back to Francis. “El might be right. Maybe we should establish ground rules.”

Day 4

Gerry Drew wondered if he had died and gone to hell. Perhaps the virus had actually gotten to him, eaten him away from the inside out until he perished, and this was his punishment. He could hear the unmistakable sound of a bed creaking from one of the bedrooms as well as Natchios talking to his mutant girlfriend from a different room.

“You would think they would have left us headphones,” Gerry groaned aloud, hoping the one other person in the room would agree; instead, Ian ignored him and continued to tap away at his laptop. Gerry turned on the television. He settled on ESPN, and looked over his shoulder to Ian. “D’you like sports?” Again, no answer. Gerry sighed deeply. “What the hell are you working on?”

“Lesson plans.”

“Lesson plans?” That was not the answer he expected. Gerry knew the other man was contracted by the Xavier Institute to assist in some training, but requiring lesson plans didn’t seem necessary. “They require you to do that shit?”

“Since I’m stuck here for the foreseeable future, I don’t want the kids to fall behind. I’m creating reports for the various cohorts. UV is capable, but she’s short staffed, meaning she’s doing to bring in someone like Jet to help,” Ian explained. He didn’t bother to look up from his laptop.

“I don’t think a few weeks will make or break them.”

“They’re mutants. Considering the targets on their back, it might.”

“I know it’s our job to be spooks and have contingency plans upon contingency plans, but the school hasn’t been attacked in years. They’re prepared. I’ve been working with them longer than you. The targets aren’t that big. Not on the kids.”

“The X-Men are now down several members, including their former leader. While they’ve been left in capable hands, enemies could view the perceived void as a vulnerability,” Ian explained gruffly. “Beyond that, society as a whole is still anti-mutant. Three states have banned human and mutant marriage. Congress still has very vocal members rallying for mutant registration. There are reports of several hate crimes against mutants this year alone. These kids have targets on their backs, Agent Drew. I am right to be concerned.”

“You sound like your sister.” How many times had he heard Ellie Rogers expound upon the injustices mutants have faced over the years?

“I will take that as a compliment; however, coming from you, I assume you meant it as an insult.”

“I actually didn’t. I meant it as a neutral statement. Ellie is a pretty large advocate for mutant rights.” He wasn’t a fan of Ellie. He thought she was both entirely overrated and unprofessional, but he didn’t hold the mutant advocacy against her. “It makes sense, considering the mutant husband and kids.”

“Or she could be a good person. I know you think she’s blinded by her relationship with LeBeau, but there’s more to it than that. You don’t need to have a direct loved one be a mutant to care.”

“But it helps. It is an influence. She wouldn’t have done half the shit she pulled for the X-Men if she wasn’t involved with their leader.”

“Former leader.”

“Are you getting pedantic with me? He was leader up until three months ago.” Then he and Ellie fucked off to retire to New Orleans and raise their mutant kids. Whatever. Arguing wasn’t going to make his living situation any more tenable, but Gerry never met an argument he didn’t fight. “You mean to tell me your mutant niece and nephew don’t have any influence for why you’re working at the school?”

“They are influences, as are my friends, but they aren’t why I care about mutant rights. Not originally. Contrary to popular belief, I wasn’t always a psychopath.” Ian shut his laptop. “I liked history and politics as a kid. No surprise, considering my parents. Some people are obsessed with studying the Second World War. Others are obsessed with different countries. England. Japan. China. Me? I was fascinated with Genosha. I grew up on my father’s stories of liberating concentration camps, and how we swore never again. Over ten million innocent lives, more than the population of New York City, were lost, slaughtered my Sentinels and the world hardly cared. The world turned their back on an atrocity and wants to put in place structures for it to happen again on a larger scale. I say ‘never again’. Where do you stand?”

He didn’t wait for a response, quickly standing and taking his laptop with him as he disappeared into another room, leaving Gerry alone to his devices.

Day 9

She missed her dogs.

They were currently staying with Barnes and Romanov, so Kass knew they were well taken care of, but still, she missed them. She missed a lot of things. She missed her apartment and her bed. She missed the cafe that was two blocks from her apartment. She usually stopped by for coffee most mornings. They knew her order there and called her ‘Kelly’ because that was the name she gave them. She always paid in cash, so nobody needed to know the fib. It was comfort built on a lie, but a familiar comfort nonetheless.

Nothing about the past nine days was comfortable. Kass chafed at sharing living quarters with four other people. Francis, she could handle. She had more or less been living with him for months. The others, not so much. Matt was like a brother to her, and few others understood her the way Ian did, but neither of those qualities made her want to share a living space with either of them. She didn’t trust Agent Drew as far as she could throw him, which was an added element to misery.

It was only Day 9. Kass wasn’t accustomed to this much stimulus, not without any outlet. She couldn’t go to the shooting range. She was cautioned against excessive training. She couldn’t go to the park for a run. She was trapped in a quarantine pod with several other people on the off chance she was carrying an alien virus. Valeria Richards proposed isolation of two weeks. She had another week of this. Someone was going to die.

Francis was trying to lighten the mood with ice-breakers and other games. It was mostly annoying. They played poker over celery sticks and passive-aggressive barbs. They argued over movie nights Matt and Ian spent most of the time engrossed texting whoever on their phones, which was fine, except for the excessive buzzing each time either one of them received a message. Matt, himself, had several loud phone calls with Bekka, his annoying, pregnant girlfriend. Kass wanted to shake him and scream that Bekka would be fine, her goddamn mother had flown up from New Orleans to spend time with her while Matt was trapped. Gerry had stupidly tried to institute a ‘No Sex’ rule, targeted solely at her and Francis. Kass, in turn, had threatened to break his face.

May the alien virus take us all.

Kass had decided to stay holed up in her room for the rest of the day. It was the only way she could keep from killing everyone, and even then it was a close thing. She could hear Matt having another loud phone conversation in the main area; however, instead of Bekka’s Southern’s drawl, she could hear El’s half-melodic voice over the speaker. From what she could hear, Ian and Francis were also joining in on the chat.

That twisted something else in her, another emotion she had no desire to dwell upon. She hadn’t spoken to El in months, not since that last argument before she’d uprooted her life and ran away to New Orleans. Kass had called the action out for what it was, a stupid mistake. El hadn’t appreciated that, and since El was a stubborn bitch, she dug in her heels and argued back. They’d both said some shitty things, and that was that. The end of almost a decade of friendship.

It was fine. She was fine. El was off to live her life with her husband and babies, and Kass was...Kass was trapped in a quarantine pod with several people she wanted to be exceptionally far away from. Most of whom seemed happily to monopolize the living area chatting away with her about....Thanksgiving plans? Whatever. She was fine. She didn’t care about Thanksgiving. Kass didn’t even want to think about Thanksgiving, not while she was stuck in this space.

She wanted to be alone. She buried her head under the pillow in hopes of drowning out the voices and laughter.

Day 11

Ian was on a beach. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be in his quarantine pod, but he was on a beach. He could almost smell the salt of the sea and feel the sand underneath his toes.

“Relax. You’re dreaming,” a familiar voice floated behind him. Ian turned at noise to see Megan Frost standing behind him. She walked slowly toward him, as if she were afraid of startling him. “I hope you don’t mind, but I thought I’d stop by for a visit.”

Megan was a telepath, a damn good one. She’d been the one who had psychically reprogrammed his mind after decades of tampering and torturing. For the past few months, she had also been his lover. Now, she was invading his dreams and doing so while she was wearing a rather daring bikini.

“I don’t mind at all.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and brushed her lips against his. It was exhilarating even in dream form. “You’ve never done this before.”

“Kissed you? Darling, we both know that isn’t true.” She began to place open mouthed kisses down the column of his throat. He groaned lowly, and tightened his fingers on her hips. She knew perfectly well what he was talking about. She never invaded his dreams before. As if reading his mind, and she probably was, sighed, “I missed seeing you, and since I can’t do that in person, I thought I would try the next best thing. Is that so wrong?”

“No, it isn’t.” Ian was sure some people would mind the intrusion. He wasn’t some people. He also knew better than to take anything Megan was willing to give. Telling him she missed him was a monumental step in the right direction when it came to emotional displays of her affections. She tended to keep her feelings close to her chest. He supposed it probably had something to do with her fiance.

Part of him wanted to ask what the Tin Man was doing now. Was he lying asleep next to Megan, while she mentally fooled around with him? The thought thrilled him. If Megan was carrying out a telepathic affair with Ian while her fiance was right there, surely she was steps away from finally choosing him.

The scene shifted around them, and they were in his studio apartment. Megan pushed him onto the bed, and he fell with a laugh. “The beach no good?”

“I suddenly thought you might like something familiar. The beach is lovely, but nothing compared to home.” Ian didn’t know what home was anymore. He barely knew who he was anymore, but he enjoyed everything more when she was involved, but he couldn’t tell her that. Not yet.

Instead, he pulled her down on the bed, and delighted in her laughter and the feel of her body next to his. “You should do this more often,” he whispered against his lips. A telepathic interlude paled in comparison to the real thing, but it was exciting enough. It meant she was here with him.

“Maybe I--” A crash shook him from his dream and pulled Megan away from him. He could hear shouting and the sound of glass breaking. What the fuck?

Francis poked his head into the room. “Sorry to wake you, man, but Matt and Gerry are having a fistfight, and I might need your help breaking it up.”

Day 14

“Your face looks terrible.” Bekka grimaced over the phone. Video chats had many benefits, but this was not one of them. “Not that he doesn’t deserve it or anything, but what got you fighting Gerry Drew anyway?

“Gerry’s an ass. That’s all. He said some shit, got hit.” It hurt to talk. His face was several different kinds of bruised. Worth it.

“What’d he say?”

“What didn’t he say? He’s been nothing but a pain in the ass for two weeks.” That much was true. He’d been petulant and whiny over everything. Was it annoying hearing Kass and Francis fuck? Sure. Did Ian take extremely long showers? Yes. Did Matt call Bekka often? Also yes. But they all had their reasons for it and even if they didn’t, Gerry was a waste enough of a human that he didn’t care how he felt.

Gerry might top Matthew Natchios’ List of People He Hated.

It was an extensive list.

“I’m sure he’s been a pain. That’s baseline Gerry Drew, but he had to say something specific to see you off. Ian, I’d get. If Olivier were there, I’d get the punching too, but this isn’t normal you.”

Matt considered lying through his teeth. There was no way Bekka would know why they fought unless someone told her. She wasn’t a telepath. Her mutation was explosions. She didn’t need to know, but he was going to tell her anyway. That’s what relationships were built upon. Trust. “He just said some shitty things about you and us. That’s all.”

“Oh,” was Bekka’s reply. Prior to dating Matt, Bekka had been dating Gerry’s best friend. It had gone as south as a relationship could go before they split. Gerry held a lot of resentment about that, especially since Matt had played a very big role in Bekka and Damon splitting. “How shitty?”

Matt took a deep breath. “He implied Baby Girl wasn’t mine.” Bekka remained quiet. “Becks?”

“Didja break his face?” Bekka asked finally. “I’m gonna be disappointed as hell if you didn’t at least break his nose.”

“I’m pretty sure I did that,” Matt answered with a laugh, relieved that Bekka was responding with anger instead of tears. Rarely did she cry, but Matt didn’t want one of those instances to be when he wasn’t there to hold her.

“Good.” She was quiet for a few moments more before she added, “You know Baby Girl is yours, right? No way possible she belongs to anyone else.”

“I know, it’s why I hit him.” He’d been angry about other things. All the shit Gerry had said about Bekka and she and Damon had split, the way he undercut El out of her job as SHIELD liaison with the X-Men, and how he went out of his way to make her miserable. Matt didn’t know much about family, but he knew who his was, and he didn’t like when others messed with them.

“I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Val swears that y’all aren’ infectious or whatever. She’s been running so many tests. I miss you something awful”.

“I miss you too.”

“Momma and I are baking you something special too. I won’t tell you what, because it’s supposed to be a surprise. I would trade anything to have you home, but it’s been nice having Momma here.” Bekka’s accent was thicker than usual, no doubt thanks to spending the past two weeks with her Mississippi-born mother. Matt didn’t mind at all -- he adored her accent. Truth be told he adored everything about Bekka. He couldn’t wait to be home and in her arms. “You sure you’re okay with her staying until after Thanksgiving?”

“It’s fine. I love you mother.”

She’d been more of a mother to him than his own mother, not that it was a high bar. Elektra Natchios was a terrible mother, the complete opposite of Anna Marie LeBeau. Besides, it was clear how much Bekka enjoyed having her mother around. Much as she tried to pretend otherwise, Bekka was riddled with anxieties over pregnancy and becoming a mother. Having Anna around comforted her in a way no other person could manage. As far as Matt was concerned, she could stay around as long as she liked.

“Je t’aime. Tu es le meilleur.” She yawned deeply. “Your baby needs to go to bed, which means I am. But good news, I’m seein’ you tomorrow. That’s a win.”

Matt smiled against the phone. I can’t wait.”

He let her go, pleased to know that she was taking care of herself and getting some sleep. He needed it himself. One more sleep, and he would be free from quarantine.

#earth 6828 #s writers things #writersmonth2020 #ship: mekka #ship: meian #ship: frass #none of you knows what this means

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dillydallydance · 7 years

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Let’s say I synced my year on the lunar calendar, which will give a kind of excuse for this year’s delay in publishing lists (an exercise that still tickles my rational/irrational relationship to music).

This year saw the beginning (and then a complete neglect) of dddance+microclimat office playlists. The year in music then revolved much more than usual on single songs, one-hit discoveries, music blogs, spotify+deezer recommendations, etc. A few numbers explanation: In a way the list could have been quite long, but here are the 100 most played/curious songs. Ranking mattered only for the first 75, so it starts in alphabetical order. This is a much different exercise than ranking albums: I focus on replays, songs I shared, songs that were contagious to others.

Here is the playlist in full:

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via SPOTIFY

ALSO ON DEEZER HERE

Adult Jazz – Eggshell

Bess Atwell - Cobbled Streets

Cass McCombs - Opposite House

Drake - One Dance

Explosions in the Sky - Desintegration Anxiety

Flume - Smoke & Retribution (feat. Vince Staples & Kučka)

Francis and the Lights - Friends (feat. Bon Iver)

Griefjoy - Scream Structure

Her - Five Minutes

Honus Honus – Santa Monica

Justice - Safe and Sound

La Femme - Le Sphynx

Lady Gaga – Joanne

Mark Pritchard - Beautiful People (feat. Thom Yorke)

Masasolo - Really Thought She Loved Me

Midnight Faces - Heavenly Bodies

Miya Folick - I Got Drunk

Nicolas Jaar - Killing Time

Niki & the Dove - So Much it Hurts

Plants and Animals - No Worries Gonna Find Us

Two Door Cinema Club - Bad Decisions

We Are Wolves - Wicked Games

Wilco - If I Ever Was a Child

Wild Beasts - Get My Bang

Wild Nothing - Reich Pop

75. Adele - Send My Love (To Your New Lover)

Always start the list with a pretty good joke. I know this album is 2015, but this single is 2016, and I danced on that in the office, sang it in a Karaoke in Tokyo and here I am a single-only Adele fan !

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74. Rihanna - Work (feat. Drake)

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73. Leonard Cohen - You Want it Darker

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72. Larry Gus - At Your Desk

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71. Moby & The Void Pacific Choir - Are You Lost In The World Like Me

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70. Childish Gambino - Redbone

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69. Car Seat Headrest - Fill in the Blank

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68. Suuns – Translate

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67. Radiation City – Separate

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66. Preoccupations – Anxiety

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65. Massive Attack - Voodoo in My Blood (feat. Young Fathers)

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64. Bat For Lashes - Sunday Love

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63. Animal Collective - Golden Gal

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62. Islands - The Joke

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61. James Blake - I Hope My Life

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60. Kendrick Lamar - untitled 06 | 06.30.2014

59. The Avalanches – If I Was a Folkstar

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58. Yeasayer - Gerson's Whistle

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57. Peter Bjorn and John - Breakin' Point

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56. Palace Winter - Positron

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55. Prism Tats - Death or Fame

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54. Deakin - JUST AM

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53. Funeral Suits - Tree Of Life

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52. Los Porcos - Do You Wanna Live?

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51. Dinner - Turn Me On

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50. Bibio – Petals

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49. Local Natives - Past Lives

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48. Izzy Bizu - Someone That Loves You

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47. LUH – I&I

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46. The Kills - Doing It To Death

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45. Blood Orange - “Best to You” (ft. Empress Of)

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44. Cullen Omori - Synthetic Romance

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43. Metronomy - Back Together

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42. Methyl Ethel - Idée Fixe

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41. PJ Harvey - The Wheel

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40. Father John Misty - Real Love Baby

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39. Mind Enterprises – Girlfriend

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38 Devendra Banhart - Middle Names

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37. Money - You Look Like a Sad Painting on Both Sides of the Sky

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36. James Supercave - Virtually a Girl

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35. Christine and the Queens - It

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34. Beyonce - Formation

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33. Austra - Future Politics

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32. The Palms - Push Off

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31. Michael Kiwuanuka - Love & Hate

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30. Porches - Be Apart

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29. The Weeknd - Starboy (feat. Daft Punk)

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28. Globelamp - Controversial/Confrontational

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27.The 1975 - Somebody Else

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26. The XX - On Hold

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25. Yoko Ono - Soul Got Out of the Box (feat. Portugal. The Man)

24. Anohni - Drone Bomb Me

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23. Kanye West – FML

22. Júníus Meyvant - Color Decay

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21. Operators - Cold Light

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20. David Bowie - Blackstar

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19. Julien Doré - Le Lac

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18. Rae Sremmurd - Black Beatles (feat. Gucci Mane)

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17. Jarryd James - Do You Remember (feat. Raury)

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16. Andrew Bird - Left Hand Shake (feat. Fiona Apple)

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15. Hamilton Leithauser + Rostam - In a Black Out

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14. Georgia - Move Systems

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13. Empress Of - Woman Is a Word

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12. Beck – Wow

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11. The Last Shadow Puppets – Aviation

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10. Glass Animals - Life Itself

Glass Animals discuss How to be a Human Being with sass and swag, tackling the ridicule of some scenes of “life itself”, with a sense of derision felt equally in lyrics, synths and guitars. You can bounce your ass off as he admits “I can't get a job so I live with my mum / I take her money but not quite enough / I make my own fun in grandmama's basement / Said I look mad, she said I look wasted”.

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09. Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros - Hot Coals

This band involves quite a bunch of people, but rarely do they connect as much as they do on "Hot Coals", a jazzy, expansive number that breezes through a tickled intro, sexy and lively arrangements, percussive transitions, a piano-horns climax and a quiet landing that revolves around one of Alex Ebert’s rare displays of seriousness and humility (he’s usually quite annoying). The line "Stay the fuck in my heart" is aggressive, while the massive build-up is softly supporting it. The song is in full possession of the band’s collective skills.

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08. Damien Jurado - Exit 353

Visions Of Us On the Land marks the end of a prolific album trilogy. Jurado’s voice is unique: tearful and brittle on acoustic songs. It’s also interrogative and existential, when he tackles the grandeur of of a spiritual journey, as on “Exit 353”. “You were with me all along / I let go and you held strong” is a transcendent contrast to the final part of the song where he acknowledges, in a loop, “I was alone there / I was alone then”. His state of grace, on the land, in the country, or within himself, becomes ours in a true grasp of communal beauty.

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07. Loney Dear – Hulls + SOHN – Rennen

I don’t know how to characterize Loney Dear’s music, especially as I discovered him with “Airport Surroundings”, a song quite at odd with the rest of his catalogue. But this guy can haunt with all sorts of minimalism (hear the early “Harm” and “Distant”). ‘Hulls’ does that in a ferocious way, disturbing with piercing pulses and sharp words about estrangement. It climaxes subtly, sharing in part the tortured violence of not being loved back.

“Rennen” from Sohn picks up the same mood as with his previous album, Tremors. It’s isolated (this time literally, as Christopher Taylor secluded himself in Northern California to record his new album). It’s icy, nocturnal and pretty damn soothing. As the rest of the album again shows him to be clumsy in motives and styles, his voice is self-assured of its beauty, and emerges as one of the most pristine foreground to the kind electronic anxieties he puts forward.

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06. Radiohead Burn the Witch – Daydreaming - Decks Dark - Present Tense

I always use the stupid first-grade imagery of music that makes you float, but if a band truly has the power to challenge gravity’s configuration, Radiohead reshuffle again the palpable arrangements of upright rock/electronic music, with guitar, bass, synth and drum sounds all muddled to uplift Yorke’s newfound transparency. It’s not to say that the band settled on a desirable balance between clarity and ambiguity, but a few, scarce moments of contrast bring the most rewarding seconds on the album: as “Identikit” is set afloat by Ed’s back vocals (and that choir!), Jonny conflicts the tones up and down with one of his crudest electric solo (see also the final of “Decks Dark”, with raw bass and guitar lines framing an highlight on the album). It’s Jonny too that, bringing magnificent string orchestrations, makes the record sound pastoral and idyllic even in its gloomiest moments. The contrasts are truly atmospheric, and serve as a support to a clear theme of “lightness”, persistent in the lyrics (am I really writing about Radiohead and lightness?). “Present Tense” offers such mutation in the singer’s cynicism, in a way that one can actually believe him when he sings “Don’t get heavy / Keep it light and / Keep it moving”, backed with some of the loveliest and charming music ever penned by the band (choir vs. echoed vocals vs. old-fashioned continental fingerpicking). Such words ultimately make me the most liberated too, as if I’ve watched old cousin struggle for more than 20 years, reaching a point where he embraces enlightenment: “With my spirit light / Totally alive / Totally released”.

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05. M83 – Solitude

The retro-looking music of M83 always toyed with a form of adolescent, dream-like purity. It’s lovely when it’s innocent and doesn’t make sense. The whole world discovered that it could also be exhilarating with 2011’s “Midnight City”, or saturated with immature happiness on Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming. M83 gives the music for those who want to feel small and silly in a big world. But this year’s Junk also proved that the cool-irony gets clumsy when that vintage obsession is overblown. Yet, “Solitude” is all that: it’s excessive and immoderate. It’s superb, grandiose, melodramatic, and lavish. And to the credit of Gonzales, it’s also immensely skilled and savvy.

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04. The Tallest Man on Earth – Rivers

A sweeter voice, less Dylan, evermore Matsson. Fingerpicking magic. The song is delicate and poignant. The bareness of its first half is slowly lifted by soft horns and subtle piano notes. This guy is steadily good.

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03. Whitney - No Woman

At the moment when I feel that indie music has not many ways left to re-characterize itself (indie is a ‘character’, right?), two former Smith Westerns guys come out with the perfect indie-folk song, making that indie thing as relevant as ever. And they do so without reinventing a single ingredient: a vacillating falsetto, inexpensive Em-A-G chords known for bringing down cynicism in an instant, a mythic-american narrative of isolation and drifting the land looking for a sense of purpose. It’s solitude without pathos (thanks to those horns). It’s sad and beautiful. It’s humble and hopeful. It knocks you down in less than 4 minutes, simple, competent and candid. I shared this song the most this year, usually with the same immediate response: “yeah, I’m hooked too”.

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02. Frank Ocean - Pink + White

The fact that I’m not so passionate about R&B or soul music kept me unreasonably distant from Frank Ocean. It trickles down also (shamefully) as an involuntary estrangement with some of the most relevant black voices elevating the contemporary cultural discourse. I mean, I can go to sleep to Billie Holiday’s “Strange Fruit” and wake up to Kendrick’s “Alright”, but I missed out on the latest of D’Angelo, Miguel, and yes, Solange and Beyonce. “Channel Orange” is revered on every sides of the universe, but it surprisingly never gave me the thrills. I read of how much of a talented singer-songwriter he is, and can’t deny any of the praises thrown at his relevance and his voice. But a few blogposts from him also hinted at a profound humanity, which kept me curious to whatever he (seldom) chooses to sing about. And here I am in 2016, finally joining the collective applauses, abusing of his ineffable empathy, worshiping the true beauty of his sensibility. Compared to the previous album, the R&B tag isn’t that obvious, probably due to the album’s deliberate minimalism. He dissolves any need for labels, cuts instead his flesh open, and makes his bowels sing along some of the most creative melodies of the year. It’s raw yet meticulous, comforting yet secretive, avant-garde yet immediately rewarding. Blond ended up as one of the albums I replayed the most this year. The combination “White Ferrari” and “Seigfried” are so well crafted in introspection and intimacy, it’s like you can hear him bleed (also, thanks Jonny Greenwood). I’m guilty of choosing also the duo of “Ivy” and “Pink+White” in particular, especially as the latest is the most immediately likable song here. But damn, how willingly am I grooving along the pristine voice, breezing with the chill and sensuous summer melody. It’s 2016’s song for walk-grooving on bass and piano tempos, set adrift on dreamlike lyrics and imageries. This is smooth smooth smooth. I’m glad I’m now fully onboard with this Ocean guy.

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01. Bon Iver - 33 "GOD"

What the fuck is this guy singing about? “Holocene” was arguably one of the prettiest songs of the last decade, but there is this line about “laying waste on Halloween” that makes it surprisingly mundane. The whole ‘mood’ of such songs aligns with the Divine, yet any attempt to dissect it (maybe no one should) shows rather a collection of references to everyday places and times. It is an undeniable signature of Justin Vernon that whichever mediums he works with (may it be the resonance of elementary guitar chords, the cold echoes of autotune, or stretched electronic pulses), human-scale alienations will dominate, and will be collected into a transcendent ‘mood’. And for me Vernon is exactly that: not much of a skilled musician, but a skilled collector, a curator. Fragments of sounds and words are built in such a universal and relatable image-space; vaporous lines draw contours of quotidian episodes; passages are momentarily crafted between memories and estrangements. He gives order to what are merely fleeting impressions of the world. In “33, ‘GOD’”, when Vernon juggles aptly from sacred allusions (“I could go forward in the light”) to everyday realisms (“Well I better fold my clothes”), his questions, struggles and uncertainties briefly take shape as an engaging and responsive ghost figure. The most enduring appeal of Vernon is to do so without veering into overconsciousness, without sounding like a self-professed guru of ‘crystal healing’ bullshit (or in the case of this song, “bird shit”). Like most, I breastfeed shamelessly on the allusive accessibility of the opening piano line, or the immediacy of words like “I’d be happy as hell if you stayed for tea”. But later these tangible trajectories quickly dissolve in foreground/background disorienting dialogues. Vernon’s vision traces a mythical path in such conflicting suggestions, a path that varies with each listening, and probably will vary with the next albums to come. His voice, as always, will remain the only trustable, guiding structure.

In only 10 years, Vernon positioned himself as that father figure, for me and the music industry. Has it been only 3 albums? He gave voice to many with his own festival in Eau Claire, and assured his presence through numerous collaborations of all scales (from Kanye to this year’s Francis and the Light). Bon Iver were once revered as an easy folk band, but it appears ‘logical’ and ‘in line’ with this ascension that “22, A Million” is their most experimental and obscure record. It’s quite claustrophobic in fact compared even to the cabin made “C Em Am Em” sing-along progressions. This voluntary opacity isn’t a surprise also for bands struggling with 2nd or 3rd albums, panicked with stardom (or grammys). The result is too often a naive form of conceptual obscurantism, a way to shout something like: “People give me credits, but I’m not obvious. I’m genuine. I’m fucked up. I’m a dark creator.” To be honest, it is slightly the case here: the album’s cryptic visuals and song titles are mysterious (or fucked-up) for about 2 minutes, but perdure as uninteresting, unnecessary packaging gimmicks. Still, the album, and “33, ‘GOD’” in particular, ranks on the good side of the catchy-experimental trend, as Vernon got us accustomed to use his pervasive vulnerability as the code-cracking tool to float over the opacity of his text. It is an intimate, subtle, relationship, and here again his trademark voice will succeed to draw you as close as always.

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