#its not fun and i want nothing to have to do with it. fuck lua lenses i dont care
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I wish we had a defense mission that rewards Axi relics on rotation A bc as it stands now the best ways to get Axi relics are “spam void sabotage” and “Lua disruption,” and spamming sabotage gets boring, which leads to burnout, and i’m not here to play a game like it’s a chore, and i’m still allergic to disruption. Also apparently there’s interception maybe but no one plays interception
Anyway, a defense wouldn’t dethrone any of the fastest methods but i personally really enjoy defense and i just want a way to get axi relics that isn’t fuckin tedious
#no veil proxima defense doesnt count#it only has three axis in the A rotation pool and the drop chances are abysmal#yknow. on top of the fact that its the v end of railjack so im just not getting there like ever#anyway did lua disruption today just to clear the node and even in a full squad it was hell#theres like twenty guys trying to kill you while youre trying to kill this ONE very tanky guy whos running away from you#and if you fuck up your ruin the mission#and bc everyone is running off in different directions looking for the demo unit#you end up having to deal with the situation alone#its not fun and i want nothing to have to do with it. fuck lua lenses i dont care#kata's chatter#space ninja fashion show#(fuck lua lenses either way you think im gonna invest a forma into that shit??)#(i digress. give me axi defense pspspsps)#(never gonna happen but i can daydream)
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Harry/Draco Big Bang Fic & Art: A Sense of Scale (Mature)
Title: A Sense of Scale
Author: @fantalf
Artist(s): @dragontamerdame
Pairing(s): Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, background original pairing
Other Key Characters: Original Male & Female Characters, brief Neville Longbottom and Narcissa Malfoy appearances, mentions to other canon characters
Rating: Mature
Word Count: ~70,000
Era: Post-Hogwarts, EWE
Content/Warnings: POV Draco Malfoy, POV Third Person, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, Flying Instructor Harry Potter, Powerful Harry Potter, Castelobruxo, Magical Theory, ayahuasca, Misunderstandings, Housemates, Recovery, Mutual Pining, Possession, Dark Magic, Brazilian Folklore, Brazilian Folkloric magical creatures, Past Relationship(s), Getting Back Together, Draco Malfoy is a bit of a liar, POC Harry Potter, a bit of angst, wildfire, villainous character, Manipulation, Implied/Referenced Animal Violence, Animal Death, but it's brief, latin america, Indigenous Culture Magic and Gods, a lot of bonding, but not between humans, Tattooed Harry Potter, Implied Sexual Content, Neville Longbottom & Draco Malfoy Friendship, Supportive Narcissa Black Malfoy, seriously though I don't claim this story makes a whole lot deal of sense, Draco has an obscene amount of nicknames for Harry, he's also so oblivious, but get mad at him not me, a very stubborn sentient school, and a temperamental parrot, don't kill me for this, Domestic Fluff, Drinking, Self-Worth Issues, Minor Character Death, Non-Consensual Entheogenic/psychedelic substance use (brief), Parselmouths & Parseltongue (Harry Potter), Familiars, Draco Malfoy Has Long Hair
Summary: Potter merely shrugged, as if it was nothing. After all, it wasn’t his life’s work. “You can try to win it over.”
Draco snapped, “What?!”
“The school. Win it over.”
“How the fuck do I win a school over, Potter?! It’s a bloody school, not a person!” And he didn’t win people over that easily, overall.
“I don’t know. Use your charms. I know you to be very inventive.”
——
In which Draco spends an obscene amount of time thinking of new nicknames for The Living Git, lying to himself and using his charms to seduce an extremely uncooperative sentient school.
Author’s Notes: Somehow, when I joined the fandom back in January, my brain decided that BB was a great(!) fest to start writing fanfic. Boy, was I crazy. I clearly didn’t know better. I still don’t know what I’m doing half of the time, but I regret nothing.
So, let’s do it!
The name of the story and the quotes on the beginning of each part are from a poem called Detail of the Woods, by Richard Siken.
This is a crazy story that has no business making sense 100% of the time. That being said, there are some sentences in Portuguese throughout the fic. It’s totally understandable from the context and not knowing them won’t jeopardise your experience. But, if you’re really eager to know a bit of Portuguese, I left the translations on the endnotes of each chapter. There’s also I really long ending note—you’re free to ignore—about some history JK ignored when building Castelobruxo.
For this story, I researched a lot, and among my resources are the books Geografia dos Mitos Brasileiros by Luis da Camara Cascudo (Brazilian Myths’ Geography), and Lendas Indígenas (Indigenous Tales) by Iray Galrão; the YouTube channels of Felippe Barbosa and Ler Até Amanhecer (Read Until Dawn). The Moriaetem Potion is inspired by a real potion. I don’t intend to offend anyone, and I won’t claim to try to bring awareness about the question, because this story is purely for fun, but this is a genuine issue that has repercussions to this day.
SoS (pun intended) is totally self-indulgent and was born of my indignation with JK for what she’s done to this school. I wanted to make it right by writing something both fun and respectful about my culture, and though it might sound too insane at times, I love it and I hope you’ll also enjoy it.
BIG, incredible, enormous thank you to the following people: Chay, you’re one of the best best friends I could’ve wished for, thank you for putting up with my crazy ideas and encouraging me not to give them up. Tai, you’ve become a dear friend and your excitement and encouragement about this story kept me going (not only one of the OCs is named after you, but the story is also a gift for you). Crazybutgood… What can I say beyond thank you for being such an angel and such an important part of my life? You’re the best. Em and Spaceboundwitch, your eagerness and enthusiasm about SoS was contagious and made me cry. Thank you so much for all your work, guys.
Last, but not least, how can I not mention how perfect Ash’s been throughout this process? You’re the best artist I could’ve hoped for and I’m confident this was the perfect match. You captured so well the essence of my story and its characters and their differences, and I can’t thank you enough for that. Also, thank you mods for your work and for making this match happening. You can find their brilliant illustrations on chapters 11 and 15.
Disclaimer that the only characters I own here are Francisca, Fernanda, José, Berê, Lua, Tainara, Rudá, some school staff I don't remember the names and the animals. Unfortunately.
There's a playlist with the song on Chapter 8 and other songs I think fits the story's mood. You can find it HERE
No beings were harmed in the making of this story.
Without further ado… Enjoy.
Artist’s Notes: It’s been such a delight getting to have access to and illustrate Lory’s (wonderful, magical, brilliant, imaginative, fascinating) story. And for that, I have to give a big shout-out to the mods for being lovely and pairing me with the fic summary of my dreams. The scenes that I have illustrated sparked my imagination and creativity so much, although I felt the urge to sketch practically every scene as I went on to read the whole story. I hope my illustrations bring to life the tenderness and intimacy between Harry and Draco in the first scene, and the intensity and power of the magic in second scene. Please enjoy this wonderful fic!
READ AND VIEW ON AO3
#drarry#drarry fic#drarry art#draco x harry#harry x draco#harrydracobang#fantalf#dragontamerdrarry#fic post#2021 fest
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hey, i started following you recently and ur bio says ur a hacker? any tips on where to start? hacking seems like a v cool/fun way to learn more abt coding and cybersecurity/infrastructure and i'd like to explore it but there's so much on the internet and like, i'm not trying to get into anything illegal. thanks!
huh, an interesting question, ty!
i can give more tailored advice if you hit me up on chat with more specifics on your background/interests.
given what you've written here, though, i'll just assume you don't have any immediate professional aspirations (e.g. you just want to learn some things, and you aren't necessarily trying to get A Cyber Security Job TM within the next three months or w/e), and that you don't know much about any specific programming/computering domain yet.
(stuff under cut because long)
first i'd probably just try to pick some interesting problem that you think you can solve with tech. this doesn't need to be a "hacking" project at first; i was just messing around with computers for ages before i did anything involving security/exploitation.
if you don't already know how to program, you should ideally pick a problem you can solve via programming. for instance: i learned a lot back in the 2000s, when play-by-post forum RPGs were in vogue. see, i'd already been messing around, building my own personal sites, first just with HTML & CSS, and later on with Javascript and PHP. and i knew the forum software everyone used (InvisionPowerBoard) was written in PHP. so when one of the admins at my RPG complained that they'd like the ability to set multiple profile pictures, i was like, "hey i'm good at programming, want me to create a mod to do that," and then i just... did. so then they asked me to program more features, and i got all the sexy nerd cred for being Forum Mod Queen, and it was a good time, i learned a lot.
(i also got to be the person who was frantically IMed at 2am because wtf the forum is down and there's an inscrutable error, what do??? basically sysadmining! also, much less sexy! still, i learned a lot!)
the key thing is that it's gotta be a problem that's interesting to you: as much as i love making dorky sites in PHP, half the fun was seeing other people using my stuff, and i think the era of forum-based RPGs has passed. but maybe you can apply some programming talents to something that you are interested in—maybe you want to make a silly Chrome extension to make people laugh, a la Cloud to Butt, or maybe you'd like to make a program that converts pixel art into cross-stitching patterns, maybe you want to just make a cool adventure game on those annoying graphing calculators they make you use in class, or make a script for some online game you play, or make something silly with Arduino (i once made a trash can that rolled toward me when i clapped my hands; it was fun, and way easier than you'd think!), whatever.
i know a lot of hacker-types who got their start doing ROM hacking for video games—replacing the character art or animations or whatever in old NES games. that's probably more relevant than the PHP websites, at least, and is probably a solid place to get started; in my experience those communities tend to be reasonably friendly to questions. pick a small thing you want to do & ask how to do it.
also, a somewhat unconventional path, but—once i knew how to program a bit of Python, i started doing goofy junk, like, "hey can i implemented NamedTuple from scratch,” which tends to lead to Python metaprogramming, which leads to surprising shit like "oh, stack frames are literally just Python objects and you can manually edit them in the interpreter to do deliberately horrendous/silly things, my god this language allows too much reflection and i'm having too much fun"... since Python is a lot of folks' first language these days, i thought i'd point that out, since i think this is a pretty accessible start to thinking about How Programs Actually Work under the hood. allison kaptur has some specific recommendations on how to poke around, if you wanna go that route.
it's reasonably likely you'll end up doing something "hackery" in the natural course of just working on stuff. for instance, while i was working on the IPB forum software mods, i became distressed to learn that everyone was using an INSECURE version of the software! no one was patching their shit!! i yelled at the admins about it, and they were like "well we haven't been hacked yet so it's not a problem," so i uh, decided to demonstrate a proof of concept? i downloaded some sketchy perl script, kicked it until it worked, logged in as the admins, and shitposted a bit before i logged out, y'know, to prove my point.
(they responded by banning me for two weeks, and did not patch their software. which, y'know, rip to them; they got hacked by an unrelated Turkish group two months later, and those dudes just straight-up deleted the whole website. i was a merciful god by comparison!)
anyway, even though downloading a perl script and just pointing it at a website isn't really "hacking" (it's the literal definition of script kiddie, heh)—the point is i was just experimenting a lot and trying a lot of stuff, which meant i was getting comfortable with thinking of software as not just some immutable relic, but something you can touch and prod in unexpected ways.
this dovetails into the next thing, which is like, just learn a lot of stuff. a boring conventional computer science degree will teach you a lot (provided you take it seriously and actually try to learn shit); alternatively, just taking the same classes as a boring conventional computer science degree, via edX or whatever free online thingy, will also teach you a lot. ("contributing to open source" also teaches you a lot but... hngh... is a whole can of worms; send a follow-up ask if you want that rant.)
here's where i should note that "hacking" is an impossibly broad category: the kind of person who knows how to fuck with website authentication tokens is very different than someone who writes a fuzzer, who is often quite different than someone who looks at the bug a fuzzer produces and actually writes a program that can exploit that bug... so what you focus on depends on what you're interested in. i imagine classes with names like "compilers," "operating systems," and "networking" will teach you a lot. but, like, idk, all knowledge is god-breathed and good for teaching. hell, i hear some universities these days have actual computer security classes? that's probably a good thing to look at, just to get a sense of what's out there, if you already know how to program.
also be comfortable with not knowing everything, but also, learn as you go. the bulk of my security knowledge came when i got kinda airdropped into a work team that basically hired me entirely on "potential" (lmao), and uh, prior to joining i only had the faintest idea what a hypervisor was? or the whole protection ring concept? or ioctls or sandboxing or threat models or, fuck, anything? i mostly just pestered people with like 800 questions and slowly built up a knowledge base, and remember being surprised & delighted when i went to a security conference a year later and could follow most of the talks, and when i wound up at a bar with a guy on the xbox security team and we compared our security models a bunch, and so on. there wasn't a magic moment when i "got it", i was just like, "okay huh this dude says he found a ring-0 exploit... what does that mean... okay i think i got that... why is that a big deal though... better ask somebody.." (also: reading an occasional dead tree book is a good idea. i owe my firstborn to Robert Love's Linux Kernel Development, as outdated as it is, and also O'Reilly's kookaburra book gave me a great overview of web programming back in the day, etc. you can learn a lot by just clicking around random blogs, but you’ll often end up with a lot of random little facts and no good mental scaffolding for holding it together; often, a decent book will give you that scaffolding.)
(also, it's pretty useful if you can find a knowledgable someone to pepper with random questions as you go. finding someone who will actively mentor you is tricky, but most working computery folks are happy to tell you things like "what you're doing is actually impossible, here's why," or "here's a tutorial someone told me was good for learning how to write a linux kernel module," or "here's my vague understanding of this concept you know nothing about," or "here's how you automate something to click on a link on a webpage," which tends to be handier than just google on its own.)
if you're reading this and you're like "ok cool but where's the part where i'm handed a computer and i gotta break in while going all hacker typer”—that's not the bulk of the work, alas! like, for sure, we do have fun pranking each other by trying dumb ways of stealing each other's passwords or whatever (once i stuck a keylogger in a dude's keyboard, fun times). but a lot of my security jobs have involved stuff like, "stare at this disassembly a long fuckin' time to figure out how the program pointer got all fucked up," or, "write a fuzzer that feeds a lot of randomized input to some C++ program, watch the program crash because C++ is a horrible language for writing software, go fix all the bugs," or "think Really Hard TM about all the settings and doohickeys this OS/GPU/whatever has, think about all the awful things someone could do with it, threat model and sandbox accordingly." occasionally i have done cool proof-of-concept hacks but honestly writing exploits can kinda be tedious, lol, so like, i'm only doing that if it's the only way i can get people to believe that Yes This Is Actually A Problem, Fix Your Code
"lua that's cool and all but i wanted, like, actual links and recommendations and stuff" okay, fair. here's some ideas:
microcorruption: very fun embedded security CTF; teaches you everything you need to know as you're doing it.
cryptopals crypto challenges: very fun little programming exercises that teach you a lot of fundamental cryptography concepts as you're going along! you can do these even as a bit of a n00b; i did them in Python for the lulz
the binary bomb lab is hilariously copied by, like, so many CS programs, lol, but for good reason. it's accessible and fun and is the first time most people get to feel like a real hacker! (requires you know a bit of C beforehand)
ctftime is a good way to see when new CTFs ("capture the flag"s; security-focused competitions) are coming up. or, sometimes CTFs post their source code, so you can continue trying them after the CTF is over. i liked Stripe's CTFs when they were going, because they focused on "web stuff", and "web stuff" was all i really knew at the time. if you're more interested in staring at disassembly, there's CTFs focused on that sort of thing too.
azeria has good ARM assembly & exploitation tutorials
also, like, lots of good talks out there; just watching defcon/cansecwest/etc talks until something piques your interest is very fun. i'd die on a battlefield for any of Christopher Domas's talks, but he assumes a lot of specific x86/OS knowledge, lol, so maybe don’t start with that. oh, Julia Evans's blog is honestly probably pretty good for just learning a lot of stuff and really beginner-friendly?
oh and wrt legality... idk, i haven't addressed it here since it hasn't come up in my own work much, tbh. if you're just getting started you're kind of unlikely to Break The Law without, y'know, realizing maybe you're doing something a bit gray-area? and you can cross that bridge when you come to it? Real Hacking TM is way more of a pain-in-the-ass than doing CTFs and such, and you'll learn way more with the latter, so who cares lol just do the fun thing
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Without Fear
masterlist | tag | wattpad
sorry I suck at updating. happy valentine’s day, here’s a new chapter!! 💕💕 have a lovely valentine’s
Chapter Eight. May.
When all of this is over, I;
Love me like there ain’t another day, lead with the heart, ain’t that the only way?
Keep thinking ‘bout how much I changed today.
It’s surprisingly easy, then, for Niall and Lu to figure things out. It’s easy to fall into the routine of two people who can’t get enough of each other—for Niall to swing by the cafe every day after work, and for Lu to clear her weekends to watch Niall coach. They have dinner together more often than not, Ruairí sleeping at Niall’s feet while he sits at Luna’s kitchen table. They kiss on the couch and fuck on a wool blanket in front of the fireplace, Niall’s lips at Luna’s neck, Luna’s fingers clawing down his bare back. Afterwards, she likes to lie with him and trace the scratches with her own fingers, caressing the patterns that mark him as her own.
Niall tells her that if they don’t keep it on the downlow news of their relationship will travel the island fast, and Luna will never escape questions about it—it makes her think back, so far back, to that night on the roof, when he mentioned how much Inis Mór loves its gossip. She remembers watching him that night, freezing cold on the roof of her unfamiliar flat, wondering what it would be like to truly know Niall. All she’d wanted to do then was reach out and touch his hand, feel his skin against hers—now, she does it nearly every night, without thinking twice.
It’s one of those nights, in early May, when things change forever.
She’s lying all over him in her bed, the way they both like to after sex, his hand tangled up in the curly mess of her hair, her fingers tracing patterns against his bare chest, the smattering of chest hair starting to bloom out across his freckled skin. Luna has the windows open and the smell of spring is delicious through the windows, even this late in the night. As a gentle breeze billows her curtains, Niall slides one hand up Luna’s bare back, from where he’d been resting it at the curve of her ass, coming to a gentle stop between her shoulder blades. She glances up at him, feeling his chest rise as he takes a deep breath, ready to speak.
“Do you remember my mate Conor? From the Paddy’s Day party?”
As if Luna could forget the way Conor’s brother had cornered her in the kitchen. She nods, and Niall exhales quickly.
“Well he works at this pub down in Dublin, helps manage it actually, and he rang me this morning while I was at work to ask if I wanted to come down and do a bit of a gig at the weekend.” His eyes are trained on the ceiling, his chest still as he holds his breath, waiting for Luna’s reaction.
“Niall,” Luna sits up in bed, and, finally, Niall looks at her. She can’t quite figure out why he looks so nervous. “This is fucking amazing.”
Niall breathes out a giggle, hands coming up to cover his eyes for a second. When he moves them and looks at Luna again, they’re sparkling wet. “I know it’s nothing big, just a mate doing a favor but I—my first gig in Dublin, Lunes.”
“It is something big,” Luna doesn’t even try to temper the excitement in her voice—Niall never makes her feel embarrassed about how she reacts to things, not the way Ida, the way her old job, used to. “It’s something massive, actually, Niall. I’m so proud of you.”
Underneath Luna, Niall flushes beautifully, his pale skin warming up with pride, love, a little embarrassment. Luna feels an impossible swell in her chest, a balloon of pride that she can’t keep from flying away, that makes it impossible to act like the chill, unbothered, cool girl she’d tried so hard to be in New York. Instead, she cups Niall’s cheek with her hand, feeling the way his skin burns up under her fingertips, and leans in for a kiss.
--
And so, Luna takes her very first trip to Dublin.
Niall can’t wrap his head around it, the fact that Luna’s been living on Inis Mór all this time and has never been off the island—not even to Galway, the closest mainland city—and Luna can’t quite figure out how to explain to him that nothing off the island is of interest to her when the island has him. Instead, she tells him it’s all for the best, anyway, that he’ll be the best tour guide or her first foray into the rest of Ireland. He smiles, and wraps his arms around her middle on the ferry over to Galway, his body sheltering her from the violent wind and the bitter cold. Spring is tantalizing in the air, Luna can smell it in her every breath, but winter clings on nonetheless, biting and threatening.
On the train ride from Galway to Dublin, Luna and Niall sit across from each other, Niall’s guitar at pride of place in the seat next to him. Niall takes the seat travelling backwards, so Luna can get a proper view to watch out the window as the Irish countryside blows past her, a blur of impossible green and infinite horizon. He falls asleep somewhere near Mullingar, in the middle of the country, and Luna finds herself watching him more than the passing landscape—the way his eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks, the tangle of freckles on his neck, the gentle parting of his lips, the constant, comforting rise and fall of his chest as he dreams.
They arrive in Dublin late that night, the city illuminated by golden street lights and car headlights in a way the island never is, and as they board the Luas on their way to Conor’s flat Luna finds that she’s not taking in the sights around her, but staring instead at the sky above, squinting, strangely desperate to catch a glimpse of any of the stars that make the Inis Mór nights so bright.
All she can see are lights from planes, taking their passengers far away.
—
In the morning, Luna wakes up to the sound of Niall’s laughter. She’s on the air mattress in Conor’s living room, where she and Niall had fallen asleep the night before, and she can tell from the sound of his laugh that Niall’s only in the kitchen, a room away, chatting with Conor. But for some reason, it feels like a million miles.
She stretches out in bed, the air mattress creaking and deflating underneath her, and lets the sounds of the city wake her up, too, so that if she closes her eyes she can pretend this is New York—can feel like she’s back in Williamsburg, Ida next to her, the city bustling below them. As much as she denies it, as much as she loves her life on Inis Mór, Luna can’t shake the fact that there’s a part of her, small it may be, that misses living in a city. But then she hears Niall again, his giggle from the kitchen, and the feeling slips away without a second thought.
Niall is where she wants to be.
She pads into the kitchen, the sleeves of Niall’s sweatshirt pulled down over her fingers, and stills in the doorway for a second, the morning’s first smile working its way across her face as she watches Niall and Conor laugh over some video on Conor’s phone, their heads close together so they can both look at the screen. It hits Luna like a pang in the stomach, the fact that Niall is so far away from his friends all the time—the fact that, by staying where he is, he’s losing out on all of this.
She thinks about herself, too, her early days in New York, before things got so bad. The late nights out with her friends and Ida, crashing at whoever’s apartment was closest to the bar they’d ended the night at, waking up in the afternoon in a pile on the couch, heads throbbing with hangovers and someone, the least hungover usually, standing with her phone out, writing down everyone’s order for the bagel place. Looking at it now, a million miles away, a whole ocean between it all, Luna knows that those moments were the most precious: those exhausted mornings, giggling over Snapchat stories from the night before, splitting bagels so everyone could get at least one bite of every flavor. There was no better feeling than that—nothing more intimate than the morning after the night before.
Standing in the doorway of Conor’s flat, Luna realizes that Niall hasn’t had the chance to have any of those mornings.
He hasn’t let himself.
“Hey, petal. You’re up!”
Luna shakes herself out of her thoughts, eyes focusing on Niall, who’s looking at her with a smile on his face that makes her heart flip the same way it did back in January, when he walked into the cafe for the first time, wind blown and nervous. “We made a fry up, I put yours in the oven to keep it warm.”
“Thank you,” she tells him, her voice coming out a little croaky from lack of use. “That’s nice of you.”
“Wasn’t gonna leave you starving,” Niall smiles, standing up and making his way over to the coffee pot. “Sit down, lover, I’ll get your coffee ready too.”
—
Despite Luna’s dreams of spending the afternoon wandering around the city hand in hand with Niall, she finds that they hardly have any time to sightsee before they find themselves packed into the pub, Niall sitting next to her on a barstool, jiggling his leg up and down anxiously. It feels to Luna like there are more people in this pub alone than on the entire island of Inis Mór. She puts her hand on Niall’s knee, and feels him calm down, just a notch.
She’s only on her second Guinness (and Niall’s barely managed to get halfway through his first), but it’s been a long time since Luna’s been drunk in a bar, and she can feel the effects of it—the alcohol coursing through her in a way it only does when you’re surrounded by other drunk people, the heady smell of the bar adding to her intoxication. She’s overwhelmed, like she knew she would be, but it’s not as bad as she anticipated—not scary and claustrophobic, but fun, something new and different and familiar, all at the same time. She drops her head onto Niall’s shoulder and closes her eyes, safe and sure here, with him by her side.
—
Niall gives, without a doubt, the best performance Luna has ever borne witness to.
He starts playing to a loud, rowdy, packed pub, his voice barely carrying over the sounds of friends chatting to one another, their laughter flitting across the room—but by the time he’s three songs in he’s got the whole place captivated, all eyes on him, smiles on faces and pints raised in the air. By song five people are shouting out requests and Niall’s taking them, slinging a few jokes in between songs, and Luna could swear her heart has never felt so swollen, her stomach never so full with butterflies.
It’s midway through his set, when Niall makes the ground fall out underneath Luna’s feet.
“I wasn’t planning on doing this tonight,” he says into the microphone, “because I wasn’t sure anyone would be interested, but you lot seem like a kind enough audience. I wrote this tune myself, if you don’t mind me playing it? It’s called This Town.”
—
This Town is about Cormac. Luna can tell from the first lyric. It plays in her head on repeat for the rest of the night—through the rest of Niall’s set, through the heart-stopping smile on his face when he sits back down next to her afterward, through the unfathomable hour of strangers coming up to them and offering to buy Niall a pint for his performance, clapping him on the back and letting him know how much they enjoyed listening. It plays on repeat while Luna tells Niall how proud she is of him, leaning in for a kiss and tasting the Guinness on his lips, the lyrics on his tongue. It plays on repeat through the end of the night, too, Niall helping Conor put away some of the glasses after they lock up, Luna feeling like she’s watching herself through someone else’s eyes, spilling beer everywhere when she tries to help.
Niall cleans up her mess without a single complaint, but Luna can’t stop feeling sick to her stomach.
This Town still plays in her mind late that night, when Niall goes down on her in Conor’s living room, the air mattress rocking below them, and it plays in her mind the next morning, when they finally do walk hand in hand through Dublin, Niall stopping for selfies every time they pass a tourist spot. It plays on her mind when they board a train to Galway in the early afternoon, and, still, on the ferry back to Inis Mór late, late that night. Niall drives her home and they make out in the car for ages, his hands up under her sweater, windows open to let the spring air in. It smells like Niall and newness—the coming warmth, the longer days, the hope and life and breath that spring brings to everything.
It smells, to Luna, like everything thawing away.
—
Luna’s grateful for work on Monday, the constant orders and customers a distraction from the feelings that she knows are out of line. Niall adores her, she tells herself as she brings Mr. O’Keefe his usual coffee, a song is just a song, and nothing more.
But it’s hard to shake, Niall’s voice, “over and over, the only truth, everything comes back to you.” For so long, Luna realizes, Niall’s voice has been something special for her—something she hears in her cafe, in her bedroom, in her bathroom when the shower is on. Niall’s voice is the soundtrack to her washing dishes, to her curled up on the sofa reading while he plays guitar across the room. It’s the soundtrack to long car rides in the middle of the night, the moon and stars illuminating the cliffs ahead just for them. It’s the soundtrack to them, to Niall and Luna, and it hurts her more than she thought it would—more than it should—to realize that she has to share that with the rest of the world.
When Niall bustles into the cafe that evening, Luna can’t hide her excitement. It feels like a million years, a million miles, since last night, when he pulled her in for one more kiss before driving home to his mom’s house. His cheeks are redder than usual when he comes up to the counter, despite the warm spring day outside.
“Hiya,” Luna leans over the counter for a kiss, her anxieties melting a little when Niall’s lips meet hers. “You alright?”
“Lu,” Niall’s breathless, handing his phone to Luna across the counter. “Look at this.”
She glances down at his phone, open to the YouTube app, and her hands start to shake before Niall speaks. She knows exactly what’s happening—it used to be her job, to help make things like this happen.
“Someone recorded my gig down in Dublin,” he’s telling her, his voice so distant that it sounds muffled, distorted, in Luna’s ears. “It has a million views on YouTube, Lu. It’s—I’m going viral. People are asking if it’s on Spotify, I even had to take my Instagram page off private. Conor says I should come back down for another gig, people have been asking after me. I—Lu. I think we made it.”
####
taglist: @emmathefantomes @kara-246 @niallsguitarthings @crocodileniall @niallberry @thelifeofbo @adoremp3 @tinyfelthat @niallgolden @theresnooneheretosave @kare38 @youretheairibreathe @okaaayniall @bopbopstyles @ficnarry @nannav47 @coconutdawn @antisocialsocialclub5 @missy14us
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#one direction#1dff#one direction fan fiction#niall horan#niall horan fic#niall horan fan fiction#niall horan imagine#niall#without fear#sorry I suck lol#thank you to rand otherwise this would never have happened lol
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lua - w.n.
in which two people find that their worlds aren’t as simple in the morning as they’d left them the night before
song used *loosely* for inspiration: “lua” by bright eyes
warnings: mentions of alcohol, cursing, light smut? is that a thing? pretty angsty, but that’s nothing new.
word count: 2.5k+
a/n: none of my writing has to do with any players’ actual personal lives, so if william’s still with penny (or anyone), this is all completely unrelated! nothing but love and respect here, folks. this is a very ~fake~ concept. [EDIT: fun fact! just found out that the girl in the photo is @madds-hay in case anyone wants to give a follow or ask her what willy’s like in person!]
-
Tempestuous honey laced in her sighs, with sweet amber dripping down and embracing them in the midst of the setting sun and tangled bedsheets. Her lips bit swollen, drunk off of his heavy exhales upon them, and she found herself swimming in the pale pools of blue and ice that bore into her own line of sight. His smirk drenched her in gasoline while his fingertips held the lighter, and it was no question that her skin was set ablaze. Yet nothing compared to the pain of knowing that this fire would soon be extinguished once again.
The first spark lit on a haunting October evening, a thunderstorm stumbling into their lives and banging on their windows, begging to sweep them away. The season had just begun, and she’d found herself wrapped in the arms of a large cable knit sweater she’d patiently waited to return to as the winds blew without rest. A nature documentary illuminated her apartment’s walls alongside the occasional flash of lightning to blind, and served as background noise as her eyes focused on her phone screen in front of her, mindlessly scrolling through viral videos and gossip threads with a now empty glass of Merlot resting on her coffee table.
A harsh knock at her door broke her from her daze, causing her to scramble to her tiptoes and look through the peephole of her front door. What she saw, however, had sent her stumbling back, clambering to unlock her door to the sight of a man clad in an expensive suit, running his hands through his silky hair and resting a frown across his face.
“She’s been sleeping with someone else this whole time.” He stormed in, throwing himself onto her sectional and resting his head in his hands, bouquet of flowers now a mess on her living room floor, no doubt for the woman he’d been referring to.
It was overwhelming. The two could barely count as friends, meeting by chance at private events here and there. They’d come from two very different worlds, with hers found mostly out of the limelight and his not quite the same.
“And he’s a fucking accountant, probably has the personality of a thumb.”
She hadn’t moved from her spot by her door, still shocked and now closing it quietly, padding her way into her kitchen and leaving him to rub feverish circles at his eyes, but only after punching the throw pillow placed next to him.
The situation was ironic - the two had met in similar situations, with her shedding a few tears of an ex lover and him offering the most comfort that a stranger, or perhaps acquaintances at best, could provide. The party was left roaring behind them, shut away by a sliding door as she perched herself on the balcony of the apartment, wondering why she even attended in the first place. She attempted to distract herself with the skyline surrounding her, but after feeling an unfamiliar presence by her, all that she could focus on were the ocean eyes shining under the city lights, sending her a friendly smile and sheepishly shoving a beer in her direction.
“You look like you could use one.”
The same boy was having a mental breakdown of his own now, except this time it was in her own apartment that did not have the luxury of an attractive view or breeze to cool a hot head down. There was one thing that, however as toxic as it may be, always seemed to numb their pain.
“I can’t believe she did it,” he laughed, and for the first time, she noticed it felt soulless. “More than once too.”
Hearing her return, and she doubted he noticed she was away to begin with, he looked up from his palms, eyebrows furrowed at what she was doing. Wordlessly, she poured him a glass, sat down next to him and crossed her legs, and urged him to go on. And he did.
Eventually their talks had become routine, occurring weekly and topics ranged from everything and anything in between. Yet as alcohol continued to replace their blood and lust covered their conscience, he began punctuating his sentences with his lips on her own. And neither could find it in themselves to stop.
Since then, her mind was constantly clouded with images of his lips grazing her thighs and mouthing promises meant to last solely for the night. However, it had soon become clear that roulette wasn’t a game for the faint at heart. That there was no time to prepare, nor dwell on a past move as another is made. Still she balanced on a tightrope, with her heart in one hand and regret in another, playing into the tiring game of charades and deceit as he continued to pull her strings tight, mercilessly suffocating her. And she never asked him to stop, even when she knew he was going to.
How pitiful it was that she missed things that were never hers to begin with.
She cursed herself for not stopping it all to begin with. Had the two just relied on each other for a sense of escape, and it was her fault that she fell harder than intended? That as he crept out her bed at dawn and dressed for practice, she relished in the warmth that remained after he’d left. Only once her bones had ached and her sheets grew cold could she find the strength to stretch her feet to the hardwood floors beneath her bed, the same she wished to stay in with him.
It had been about a month since they’d started this, well, whatever it was. They’d been laying in bed, his smooth skin blanketing hers, and his palms resting on the swell of her hips. Her phone was connected to the speakers, drowning out the noise of his heartbeat matching her own, and a familiar melody strummed out and echoed across the room. One that she’d attached with many fond memories, but with another man she’d once been equally as fond of.
When she attempted to bring it all up, about how it happened and whether he was genuinely okay, he’d respond with a shrug and a “it gave me an excuse to break up with her, I guess”, sitting up on his elbows and bringing a gentle finger to her face. Once he pushed hair out of her eyes and behind her ear, and she knew that would be the end of the conversation.
She hadn’t known how much time had passed, yet the conversation continued to replay in her mind, although her stomach twisted due to another unwelcome guest. She’d indulged in the only other constant in her life, licking her lips as the poison cascaded down her throat, and her phone rang a familiar tune.
She heard her own voice stammer as he answered her phone, knowing what he’d be calling for at this hour anyways. But her fingers instinctively answered the call, and she could already feel her body crave for his touch.
“Come over?”
She shifted her weight on her feet, biting the inside of her cheek
“I’m busy tonight,” and she knew that he was aware that wasn’t a true statement, as every other week she’d spend her evenings curled in bed binge-watching the latest docu-series she came across.
“I can wait up,” he insisted.
“I seriously can’t.”
“Please.”
“I said I can’t,” She took a deep breath, rubbing her forehead as she grew more irritated. “I’m on my period, Will.”
“Oh,” he stuttered, couging to clear his throat. “I was actually thinking, um, we could just hang out tonight.”
She could feel her throat run dry as she struggled to form a response. The thought frightened her, and she reached down to her thigh to pinch herself and make sure she wasn’t, in fact, in a strange dream. They’d never just hung out. In fact, there was always a motive behind each of their times spent together, whether that be one comforting the other, or the two of them finding comfort in each other’s bodies.
Perhaps he could sense her hesitation, as he quickly told her that he had already bought snacks and is waiting on his sofa with too much food he could finish on his own, nor should he be allowed to eat it in the midst of the hockey season. And not too long afterwards was she tucked into his side, curling her legs onto his lap and accepting his offer to relieve the pressure that built up during this time of month, his knuckles kneading out her knots and strains.
She wondered what the look he gave her that night, when he’d asked if she was sleeping with anyone else and she immediately shook her head no, had meant. How his eyes flickered with an emotion she never saw before, and how his fingers twitched across her waist before he turned his attention back to the screen before them. She even wondered had he scowled or smiled, but he’d brought his drink up to his own lips before she could see.
It wasn’t long before she was in his apartment again. However, this time in a number he’d cheekily sent to her office with a red ribbon and note that read, “Wear nothing but this tonight.”
What she hadn’t expected was a silk dress to be sitting inside, its expensive material slipping through her hands as she grabbed at it, and silking easily off of her body later that night.
She rolled her eyes as her neck grew warm, and quickly texted to let him know that she received his gift, to which he responded with only one message: “See you at 7.”
He’d picked her up from her apartment, and drove both of them to some high-end restaurant overlooking Lake Ontario, and if he had told her the plans beforehand, she would’ve declined. While he seemed to be keeping his cool, her chest tightened as the realization hit that they were going somewhere outside of the privacy of their own apartments, and somewhere together.
He hadn’t said anything to her as she knelt to pick up her heels, moving to sit down and put them on. He had, however, watched her with an unreadable expression.
“How’d you know my size?” she asked, tilting her head to the size as he drank in her figure.
He smirked, taking her heels from her hands and kneeling before her to slip them on her feet.
“I’d say I know your body pretty well.”
His response had left her cheeks flaming, and his remarks throughout the night continued to. The thought alone that she followed his orders to truly wear nothing but the dress he had given her was enough to cause the temperature to rise. But right now, as she stood bare in between his legs with a shy smile and uneasiness spreading throughout her bones, her skin was left burning under his igniting gaze, and she melted under his fingertips.
The fire grew unmanageable, however, once he uttered three words into the crevice of her neck, outlining her collarbone with hunger, beginning to devour her with every little taste. His voice was low, yet vehement. But she knew she’d heard him loud and clear.
“I love you,” he groaned, and she had no response except to her clenched her thighs and force an even more breathy statement from him. “You’re so fucking perfect.”
Oh my god.
She wanted to push him off and hit him over and over, to scream and tell him that he can’t, and that it was a mistake. He loved her body, how she made him feel. He loved the momentary satisfaction he received wrapped in her, the state of bliss they’d reach together. He loved how easy it was to find this in her, and not worry about what she’d make of it, because she just didn’t know what to make of it.
She’d left his apartment particularly early that morning, before he could even wake up for practice and kiss her forehead as they parted. She hadn’t responded to his texts asking where she was in the morning or if she was okay.
She should’ve known, however, that he’d be back banging on her door as the moon returned, rushing in to embrace her with heavy breaths as she opened the door. She didn’t know what he expected her to look like, maybe he even thought she was dead, because his grip on her was tight and his face was buried in her hair. She moved her hand to run her fingers through his hair before he began to speak.
“Babe,” he sighed, rubbing his palms up and down her spine, causing shivers to follow. “I’m so glad you’re okay, I was so worried.”
Her eyes shot open and she began untangling herself with him, taking a deep breath and turned to look at him directly as she calmly spoke.
“You need to leave.”
Her heart swelled at the confused look on his face, eyebrows furrowed and an anxious lick at his lips.
“What’s wrong?”
She stepped away from him, asking him again although it pained her to no end.
“Let me help you,” he reached towards her, but she jumped even further back.
“You don’t get it, do you?” she raised her voice, rubbing her temples “I don’t want to see you anymore. Now, please, get out.”
“Is this about what I said earlier?” he asked softly, taking a slow step towards her. “Because if it was too early, if you weren’t ready, I-”
“What?” she almost laughed at how big of a deal it was for her, how embarrassing this whole thing was for her. “You don’t just throw around words like that.”
He moved forward again, but she stepped even further back, tailbone coming in contact with her countertop. “I wasn’t throwing them around, I swear. I meant-”
“I’m scared, Willy.” Her voice wavered, and she couldn’t look at him any longer. “I just don’t want this to change anything between us. Things can’t change between us.”
“Why not?” he questioned, grasping her arms in his own and forcing her to look up at him, eyes pooling with more emotion she thought she had towards him. “What’s so wrong about that? What are you scared of?”
He moved to tuck her hair behind her ear like he did before, except this time he brought his hand to rest at the back of her neck and rest his head against hers.
“Please,” she begged, but her body already gave away, “Just go.”
“I’m right here,” he whispered, as if he’d known that she’d run from his grasp before he could stop her. “I promise.”
She wanted to tell him that she knew that wasn’t true, that their lives were too different and far more complex than he made it out to be. That something could change in mere hours from now, and he could edge his feet away, slip from under her nose and never return.
But as their lips molded together and their bodies pressed into one, her own fears were left shattered at their feet. Time was put on hold, and the chaos that surrounded them outside of their homes’ walls seemed so much more simple when they were together.
And sometimes, things don’t look so different in the light.
#toronto maple leafs#william nylander#nhl#hockey#william nylander imagine#team sweden#maple leafs#hockey imagine#nhl imagine#hockey smut#nhl smut#hockey imagines#nhl imagines#hockey fanfic#hockey fanfiction#nhl fanfic#nhl fanfiction
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im gonna scream u know. questionarie!!! lua and arthur!!! i efbsnmdakjsdn
@koalateamusings @lauriejuspeczyk r just out to get me
1. How did they first meet?
in St Denis at a bar lmao. he finds Bill and Lua and Vi after they saved Bill’s ass on a job that went awwwwwry. Bill’s fucken sloshed and like ‘they gotta come with us they would be useful aorthur’ and Arthur would be like ‘.... I GUESS’ and Lua n Vi are like cheers i’ll drink to that.
2. What did they think of each other at first? What was their first impression of the other?
Lua thought he was fucking handsome but quiet as alll hell a little awkward lol. also guarded; she’d wanna ask about the things he’s writing and drawing in his journal but wouldn’t ask because she feels it’d cross some boundary with him. Arthurrrrrrrr would draw her (like he does everyone its no big shut up!!!) and write something about how she’s new but he’d like to know her, he’s liked how he is around her and hopes that lasts. also she’s pretty sure sure.
3. Were they immediately interested / attracted, or did that come later?
UM like! yes and no! attraction was TOTAAALLLLY there but they both have,,, issues (because u fucking know Arthur is there like ‘well im fucking ugly’ and everyone else in the world is like ??? ??? but anyway) and so nothing actuallllly substantial happened until Arthur almost died in Guarma because of course it takes a big dramatic event for them to accept their,,,, feelings. crazy kids!!!
4. Why did they fall for each other?
just because~~~~
ok but like Arthur is the nicest and most genuine person Lua’s ever met and when she finally does ask about his journal she asks if he draws places he’d like to go one day because lord knooows she would love to be anywhere but the camp and he tells her he only draws what he knows and she says maybe it’s worth leaving to see more and when he tells her that if she left he’d go too she believes him and thinks maybe they could get away from all this and find something that fits and works for them in the world that’s changing and shifting away from the type of life they lead far faster than they can keep up with. maybe when arthur takes a moment to brush a feather or a flower or dried fucking grass out of lua’s hair and uses it as an opportunity to tuck her hair behind her ear and be close to her for a moment he doesn’t think he should have, a moment he’s feels he’s stealing from her, he knows that when she tells him he’s a good man she’s sincere and he wants so badly to believe it when it comes from her lips so in that moment he does.
did this answer the q? no! it’s just because!!!
5. Who flirted more before they started their relationship and how?
Lua lol. But that’s also kind of just how she is as a person. but with Arthur she’d actually mean it lol. He would make his self-deprecating comments about how he’s super ugly or a bad baaaad man she’d say he’s far from it.
6. Who made the first move/confessed first?
um it was a mutual thing u know. Arthur’s like basicalllllly dead and sun roasted on a horse returning from Guarma w a fresh case of TB and i have to pause a moment brb
ok right so with Lua seeing Arthur not dead like she thought is fucking overwhelmed by what she’s feeling and rushes to hug his crispy ass and when all their excitement and the Big Energy from that has passed Lua says “i love you, just. by the way. I’m glad you’re back” and Arthur responds by holding her face and telling her how when he was out there he kept thinking that one of the first things he needed to do when he got back was tell her that he loved her because he didn’t want to die without telling her. hmmm foreshadowing wrow.
7. When did they have their first kiss and under what circumstances?
one time when they were drunk and they didn’t talk about it after don’t worry about it mind your business, they did so why cant you???
8. Which one is more easily made jealous?
I honestly cannnnot see Arthur being a jealous type because he’s got that self esteeeeem issue problem and would go for some self-deprecating shit before jealousy like “yeah there’s someone out there better than me, I don’t blame her”. so i guess the answer there is Lua?? but at the end of the day i dont see them caring too much because they’ve gotttta make up for lost time lol.
9. What do they fight about? Who’s the first to apologize?
haha after Arthur Realizes™ how he feels about Lua they go on a heist and she gets hurt but hides it until they’re back at camp and he gets so! mad! when he finds out he snaps at her like ‘what if it were worse what if she didnt make it back?’ and then Realizes™ part 2 that he was just scared of losing her and apologizes but doesn’t go into big big detail because this is stillll before anything actually significant has happened w them and they’re both like “oh my feelings couldn’t possibly be requited and therefore are not real.”
10. Did they have a first date? Where did they go?
not realllllly the closest thing would be pretending to be newlyweds on a heist n_~
11. What do their friends and family think? Do they approve of the relationship?
ALL PARTIES APPROVE LMAO. e v e r y o n e knew how they felt about each other before they did and would try to get them to admit it especiallllly Vi and Rosa!!! they’d tease Lua like “ADMIT IT U IDIOT” and she’d be like “shut up Kieran is,,, weird and John smells like a horse!!!”
Most importantly tho Hosea thinks it’s good and that they’d be able to make a nice life together. lol.
12. Do they like to cuddle/hold hands? Do they prefer to do it privately rather than in public?
FUCKING YA FUCK. catch Arthur and Lua at the campfire w Arthur’s arm around her or just ~*cozied up*~ because time is fleeting bitch :~)
13. How long do they wait before sleeping together for the first time (If they do)? Under what circumstances does it happen?
i just said time is fleeting!!! but also ok like! they’re drunk one night, shortly after Lua and Vi join the gang, and the night ends w just them at the campfire and some romantic (but like when youre just meeting someone and ur drunk and like sure romance lol) shit happens. lua’s like ‘just dance with me it’ll be fun! there’s no one around!’ and arthur, reluctant, is like ‘well alright’ but he’s smiling he’s content and then they have a really sloppy night together that afterwards neither of them acknowledge for a long long while. after theyre like fucken weird around each other for a bit. Lua obviously tells Vi and then Rosa because she caannnnot keep that secret for long but what she can do for a long is deny any feelings she has for Arthur lol. Things stop being weird when she tells herself it was just a one night thing and Arthur isn’t into her like that. Put it in a box amirite n_~
14. Who tops?
oh my god
15. Do they get married? Who proposes & how?
cruel cruel world must i go on
16. Do they have children? How many? What are their names?
cruel cruel world im gone
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My 19 Favorite Albums of 2019
2019 is coming to a close. The entire decade is coming to a close. This list has been an increasingly comforting exercise the last few years. I guess this will be the eighth annual version of the linernotesandseasons favorite albums of the year list! Crazy how time passes. So here are the collections of songs that I used to mark my personal time & space this year. The lyrics that I learned by heart & sang out in dark & dirty rock clubs. I also made a spotify playlist with two songs from each album if you’re interested in listening along as you read.
This year most of my writing focuses on when & why I fell in love with a specific album. Sometimes the history is important, building a base or connecting some threads, so when relevant, I have also included my history with when I fell in love with a specific artist. And finally, as has become more important to my music chasing brain in the last few years, why this artist or album is important to music right now. What they’re doing to leave a mark on the world, in whatever small space or way.
So without any further ado, here it is, in no particular order (unless you’re particularly knowledgable or fond of the english alphabet) my 19 (well actually 20 cuz freaking Big Thief put out two!) favorite albums of 2019. It’s been a pleasure.
BETTER OBLIVION COMMUNITY CENTER / Better Oblivion Community Center
Spring 2019 in Denver was cold & breezy, sunny & exciting. I had spun the Phoebe Bridgers/Conor Oberst match-made-in-indie-emo-sad-folk-heaven record once through, but in late March I made a game time (like I bought a day-of ticket off stubhub at 6pm!) decision to drive down from work and see their show at the Gothic on South Broadway. I’d been up since 7am the night (morning?) before, watching opening day baseball live from Japan (on March 20th?!). Ichiro’s final game and I was feeling maybe a little emotionally fragile already. But anyway… Better Oblivion Community Center’s live show (they call them meetings) has all the potential to come off as cheesy or contrived. A recorded voice welcomes you, self-help-cult style, and invites you to “celebrate sound & light” & “travel the well worn pathways,” because “we are one.” A mystical backdrop gives a hint of what you’re in for (I didn’t know what I was in for...) with letters at the top reading “It will end in tears.” The band is brilliant, loose, & fun. They play all the songs. They play “Lua,” “Bad Blood,” & “Easy/Lucky/Free” from the endlessly varied Bright Eyes catalog. They turn Phoebe’s “Funeral” into a punk blast. They cover The Replacements! They wear shades and sing a song from lawn chairs! The show feels effortlessly cool and I feel like I’m part of something special again. Music has a way of doing that.
The record is perfectly equal parts Phoebe & Conor. From the opening lines, where Phoebe takes control with “my telephone it doesn’t have a camera” sounding for all the world like a gloriously mopey “Smoke Signals Vol. 2″ to the way Oberst sings the first lines of ethereal closer “Dominoes” sounding 100% like Cassadaga-era Bright Eyes. If you know & love either, you should know the other now. Phoebe carries a torch from early 2000′s emo with a sad-at-heart, genius songwriting style that emphasizes pinpoint autobiographical lyrics, a cutting, (even humorous at times) wit, and a teenage, feminist, internet, millennial heart. Oberst for his part has kept up a steady output since Bright Eyes, and (at least lyrically) doesn’t seemed to have cheered up much. Better Oblivion Community Center’s self titled debut feels fresh & catchy. While there is definitely an aching sadness in the duo’s songwriting, light hearted moments abound, and the writing often points to getting older, all hard work & growth. There is the bouncing outro to “Sleepwalkin’” where their voices rise in unison singing “Acting insane, playing it safe, I wasn’t sold on that plan anyways. Feeling afraid of making a change.” Or in the bright, rolling verses of “My City” where they go looking for “little moments of purpose.” But the one song I kept going back to; the one I recorded to cassette tape and played on almost every drive home from work at 4am through April & May, is the bittersweet closer “Dominoes.” Ironically, this one is a Taylor Hollingsworth cover (I think that’s him adding the random, spooky voice overs) but Conor takes the lead on vocals, singing a mostly lonely, hopeless tale, until the last verse when Phoebe cuts in. She’s “carpooling to kingdom come, into the wild purgatory.” Encouraging us to “Experience a magic rainbow, all you gotta’ do is follow. & if you’re not feeling ready… There’s always tomorrow.”
“The world will not remember when we’re old & tired / We’ll be blowing on the embers of a little fire…”
BIG THIEF / U.F.O.F. & Two Hands
2019 was the year that I finally finally got really really into Big Thief. A band’s band known for their live show (I still have yet to see them live) their following seems equal parts cult-y and universal. How a band that sounds the way they do, made it almost to the top of the indie-rock world is an exciting & inviting mystery.
This year, for me, the catalyst was “Cattails.” Released at the beginning of April, this song struck me and stuck with me, making its way onto almost every mix I made last Spring, Summer, & Fall (including this one for my Mom!) A real song of the year contender (& my #1 most listened to song of 2019 on spotify!), “Cattails” is a melodic, driving, beautiful tune, that finds singer & front person Adrienne Lenker marking Time (”riding that train in late June”) & Space (”going back home to the great lakes”) with grace & depth. There is a sacredness & mysticism tied up in a lot of Lenker’s writing and she refers to her writing experience with “Cattails” saying…
“It was one of those electric, multicolored waves of connectivity just sweeping through my body. I stayed up late finishing the song and the next morning was stomping around playing it over & over again. We thought why not just record it … & when James and I were playing it felt like a little portal in the fabric had opened and we were just flying. Listening back to it makes me cry sometimes.”
In truth, U.F.O.F. (the last f stands for “friend,” a way of humanizing the foreign) is a gorgeous record. Soft & gentle, full of songs about the constant tussle between things known & unknown. A real headphones-on-an-airplane record. And then, out of nowhere, Big Thief announced that they had a second (!) record on the way in the Fall. A dirt & earth twin for U.F.O.F., a special surprise gift for their burgeoning fan base. They announced Two Hands with the vicious single “Not,” a song very unlike “Cattails.” A brooding, ravenous rock song that made me remember why I love unhinged, well-written, unafraid rock & roll music. Another song of the year contender. If you’ve followed this blog the last few months, my well thought out comments to “Not” were “ohhhhhhhhhhhhh shit” & “oh my holy shit.” to the live version! But it was actually the second track on Two Hands that solidified Big Thief’s greatness for me. “Forgotten Eyes” is sonically similar to “Cattails” and rides the same effortless rhythm, driven by Lenker’s repeating guitar riff and James Krivchenia’s consistently impressive drumming. The riff seems to fall in & out magically, and the writing bookends “Cattails” with lyrics that speak to both a great pain & a great universal truth. While she wanders through homelessness & death, Lenker reflects beautifully on the life cycle we (& our planet, & maybe everything?) are all going through.
“Forgotten dance is the one left at birth / Forgotten plants in the fossils of earth / & they’ve long passed but they are no less the dirt / Of the common soil keeping us dry & warm / The wound has no direction / Everybody needs a home & deserves protection…”
BLACK BELT EAGLE SCOUT / At the Party With My Brown Friends
After finding Black Belt Eagle Scout’s debut album late last year, I soundtracked many a dusk, dawn, or midnight drive with her swirling vocals & entrancing guitar, usually in the cold & dark, through the early part of 2019. It made my 2018 favorites list, and her Larimer Lounge show in May was a highlight. I guess it makes sense then, that I didn’t truly fall for her sophomore album At the Party With My Brown Friends (released in August) until it got cold in November and I was able to take it out for some dark, snowy drives. Moody & serious at times, Black Belt Eagle Scout sounds every bit like the gray Pacific Northwest where front person Katherine Paul (KP) hails from. The lyrics are simple, repeating phrases, full of deep, important ideas. Family & friends. People & land. There are bursts of guitar coming out of rewarding slow builds, shredd-y, rhythmic, & melodic. Also, all the instruments on ATPWMBF are played by KP, and the drumming is fucking fantastic.
I have some sort of longer form writing building somewhere in the back of my mind about listening to music in cars, and both Black Belt Eagle Scout albums are perfect examples for that. I have always loved the feeling of having roads (highways or simply long straight dirt back roads) & music to listen to. In high school, we would sometimes get in the car simply to drive & listen to music (small town life ya know?) and I still relish any chance I get to take new (or old & long loved) songs & albums on road trips or just commutes around town. The time to sit with the songs, to focus on nothing but the words & melodies, instruments & voices, & the pull of the road, mystical & magical. Black Belt Eagle Scout’s songs have been a calming companion on a lot of drives over the last year, and I recommend you taking them out on a spin of your own. Drive to that coffee shop that’s 30 minutes away that you’ve been wanting to go to, drive out of town just to drive, alone with your thoughts & the road. You just might learn something about yourself.
“& I wake up / I love you / Screaming loudly / Screaming softly too / Am I here? / My heart dreams…”
BON IVER / i,i
Bon Iver is a long time favorite and if you’ve followed this blog at all, you know how much I love his albums and how much Justin Vernon’s Eaux Claires festival has helped shaped my musical timeline. Seeing 22, A Million (the record that precedes i,i) live in Wisconsin by the river for the first time, was something special. That record made my 2016 favorites list, but until this year, until i,i, my story of the music felt very insular. Special & secret for me, confined to very specific times & places. Only to make me feel certain things. It’s why I was hesitant to buy a ticket to see the Red Rocks show last September. Or why I questioned streaming the album early while I was on vacation in Holden Beach, North Carolina. I thought the songs were only meant to carry me back to the river, back to Wisconsin, back to the Summer. Back to a very specific, special place in my heart. But thanks to the wonders of spotify, and the Bon Iver crew just up and releasing the album a week early under the simple & generous guise of “wanting folks to have the album & learn the songs before the tour!!” I obliged and… YESSSS that’s how you do an album release in 2019! I had the album in my headphones as I ran and sweated on the beach in North Carolina, letting brand new songs transport me thousands of miles away.
i,i is a gloriously weird, perfected mess of a hit indie record. It’s everything I wanted the next chapter of the Bon Iver story to be. It feels personal & widescreen. Little moments stretched out and shared with family & friends. Lyrics about growth & hard work & life (& a few WTFs, it’s Bon Iver after all!) The gang’s all here again (the massive crew that worked on the album are all pictured on the record’s gloriously, weird inside gatefold!) recorded from Vernon’s home (April) base in Wisconsin, to Sonic Ranch in west Texas (also pictured in the liner notes) walking distance from our southern border. The sounds are all here again too. There are hints of For Emma’s Winter falsetto folk in the gorgeous acoustic guitar of “Marion.” There are the industrial swells & stomps, bleeps & bloops of bi, bi’s Spring in the warbling, green grass, warmth of “Holyfields.” Then there is the distortion, the choppy samples of 22, in the jigsaw glory of “iMi,” the way it starts & stops, all choruses & voices, real & programmed. Threads of new songs tied up with threads from long, long ago. There is a fullness to i,i, a generosity, a true front to back album, with hits & new favorites sprinkled everywhere. The second half blooms with the charging folk of “Salem” & “Faith” and the contentedness of closer “RABi.” These are songs that I will love for years to come. These songs make me happy. They make me think. They make me want to share them with friends. They make me want to work on relationships. Songs about life. Songs about true, unconditional friendship. As Justin said way back in 2015, when my journey with the Bon Iver story began “The story is history, nothing more. Only the music can rise anew. & it is gone as soon as it is sung. & so we sing again…” I am soo soo happy to sing again, with songs anew.
“Living in a lonesome way / Had me looking other ways / Cuz I am lost here again / But on a bright Fall morning I’m with it / I stood a little within it…”
EARTHGANG / Mirrorland
EARTHGANG’s major label debut Mirrorland comes in hot & dancing, a hip hop duo with a true tribute to Southern culture, and a whole world encapsulated in 14 tracks. My personal introduction to the EARTHGANG universe, came courtesy of a dusk till dark dance fest at Denver’s Underground Music Showcase on South Broadway back in sweaty July. Their energy was infectious, their stories hilarious, & their songs stuck in my head. Specifically the Young Thug featuring “Proud Of U,” a song that carries enthusiasm & positivity through to the end. Other standouts include colorful, bouncing opener “LaLa Challenge,” & the squealing horns of Atlanta hot spot, name dropping “Wings.” A concept album of sorts Mirrorland references “The Wiz” as a jumping off point saying,
“We thought about how, if we’re going to make a project sonically to rival The Wiz, we got to create another world for people to imagine & go to. You know when Dorothy got swept away and she met the Munchkins? That was such a beautiful thing. You could see Quincy Jones on the piano, just playing away. It’s really colorful. It’s really dangerous. It’s really trippy. It’s literally Freaknik Atlanta in the summertime—folks riding around in cars with big rims with paint on their faces.”
EARTHGANG was formed in 2008 by high school buddies Johnny Venus & Doctur Doc in Atlanta, GA. It’s impossible to ignore Outkast comparisons and for their part, EARTHGANG does their best to keep up the Southern hip hop tradition. Mixing in bits of soul, blues, & jazz, Mirrorland plays like an homage, a soundtrack to the South. A real reminder that the album is not dead. These songs sound best played together. Also, that the hip hop group, or duo, is not dead. And finally, that touring and playing live shows is most definitely not dead. I probably still wouldn’t have heard about EARTHGANG if it wasn’t for their primo UMS slot (at the same Import Mechanics stage where Leikeli47 & Kiltro played!) and infectiously positive live show. Speaking of their live show, see y’all at Cervantes on February 3!
“One time, one time for your baby moms / Two time for the hand in the candy jar / Holy Ghost showed up in my favorite thong / Three times in the car for the way we are / Another white man scared, another black man dead / Another rich man war, another red man bled / I been writing this album down way too long / When I drop my shit, pray it hit the toilet like lala, lalalalala...”
FRUIT BATS / Gold Past Life
In the Autumn of 2013, my coworker Cassandra Disney at Mile High Organics played me “When You Love Somebody” by Fruit Bats (had that song already been out for 10 years in 2013?!) on one of her early morning work mixes, and I immediately put it on one of my favorite (if embarrassingly bro-folk heavy) mixes I have ever made myself. Discovering a weird/cool indie band in the vein of all my other loves (Band of Horses, The Shins, Modest Mouse, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, etc…) but more underground (!) was hipster heaven. I subsequently forgot about Fruit Bats for awhile, but was reminded with their graceful “comeback” album Absolute Loser in 2016. Although that one missed my favorites list, it gradually became a constant road trip companion; from the mountains of Colorado, through the great American Southwest, and even on some epic Mexican back roads. All alt-country, lost 70′s AM radio classics, and wistful, witty, & wise writing about highways and scenery. A true classic.
I was therefore super excited for Gold Past Life (Fruit Bats’s seventh album?!) to drop on Merge Records this Summer, and fell in love pretty quickly on a late afternoon drive across the high road between Taos and Santa Fe, New Mexico back in late June. Swirling guitar, bouncy piano. and Eric D. Johnson’s piercing, clear, impassioned vocals. Fruit Bats sound timeless & effervescent. Upbeat guitar rock with some weird twists, and Johnson’s consistently bittersweet, humorous, & big hearted lyrics. Growing up, growing older, & grinning a wry smile at a golden world. After catching back to back beautiful Fruit Bats shows in Fort Collins & here in Denver at the Bluebird this September, these folks are the real deal. Long live touring bands, long live seventh albums, long live music marking time & space! Here’s to many more Fruit Bats albums, Gold Past Life will be car stereo classic for awhile.
“Still waiting around for some mystical shift in the winds / So honey please, don’t go just yet / Cigarette fingers, a shake in the knees / A bit blue, kind of tired, but not broken… Anticipating a magical bend in the road / So hang on, take it slow / Your go bag is packed & your hangover gone / Another dawn at the edge of the known world…”
HISS GOLDEN MESSENGER / Terms of Surrender
Durham, North Carolina’s Hiss Golden Messenger (folklorist, family man, & singer-songwriter MC Taylor & revolving crew) have become something of a mainstay on this music blog & in my car’s cd player over the last five years. I picked up a used (!), advance (!) copy of Lateness of Dancers in the $1 bin at a record store in Seattle, Washington. after having been passed a burned copy of his 2010 solo album Bad Debt by an old coworker. Lateness ended up on my 2014 favorites list. Two years later, Heart Like A Levee made my 2016 list, and the next year, Hallelujah Anyhow was one of my favorites of 2017! I referred to the songs on Hallelujah as Hiss “building a repertoire, creating a legacy.” This may seem like quite a bit of superfluous backstory, but believe me, it is essential to the story, a journal of the journey. Geographic art for a topographic heart if you will. But anyway, Terms of Surrender…
The title is cryptic, referencing (as Taylor puts it “what we are prepared to sacrifice in order to live the lives that we think we want”) and the songs are deep (& growing deeper) & timeless. Not so much timeless in the way Yola’s songs sound timeless (skip down a few albums on this list to read about Yola!) but timeless in the way the songs seem to seep their way into my bones and stay for years. Terms burst on the scene with the release of the first single “I Need a Teacher” back in stormy June. With bright, rolling guitar stabs courtesy of The National’s Aaron Dessner (whose upstate New York recording studio was home for the Terms recording sessions), “Teacher” is about “the search for infallible guidance in an ever-changing universe.” but it is also about everyday work. Dedicated every night of the tour to all the teachers in the room, a political statement wrapped up in the seemingly obvious sentiment of “Defend Public Schools.” See what I mean? Timeless songs written for the here & now. “Bright Direction” & “My Wing” are reminiscent of Hallelujah’s “Jenny” & “Darkness.” a 1-2 punch of driving, drifting major key numbers, written from a hillside in Virginia, high on mushrooms. They contain multitudes. With a murky middle (Brad Cook gets funky on “Old Enough to Wonder Why” & “Cat’s Eye Blue”) & the already canonical Hiss’ live fav “Happy Birthday Baby,” the back half of Terms spreads out the Hiss’ sound in new ways. New live favorite, the nostalgic “Down at the Uptown,” had me googling maps of San Francisco to find the mythical Uptown bar where Taylor first heard Patti Smith’s Horses.
In late October, Hiss played an absolutely glorious three night run at little Globe Hall over in Globeville, just Southeast of where Interstate 70 meets Interstate 25. I went to all three shows. The shows were special & career spanning; from “Jesus Shot Me in the Head,” to Dead covers (& a Jesus & Mary Chain cover!) to all the Terms songs. I spent the Saturday afternoon before show #2, walking around the disappearing & rapidly gentrifying neighborhood in & around Globeville (& drifting across the highway into Sunnyside) listening to Terms of Surrender on my headphones. Thinking about the things I’m willing to sacrifice, thinking about the life I want, what are my Terms? After all, “It’s a real live world & I wanna live in it.”
“Something drove me crazy / Love had me lazy / Backwards won’t get me to my destination / Move me in some bright direction / Looking to be captured, looking for my freedom / Oh, dreams will come to get you / So careful what you’re wishing / Your family might correct you / Your heart might take a pounding / Make sure you take a picture…”
JUNE JONES / Diana
I can’t remember where I first heard of June Jones, but I’d like to think it was from one of my many Australian music friends (thanks Camp Cope, Julia Jacklin, Middle Kids, Courtney Barnett, Gang of Youths etc…!) The music community is a wonderful thing. June’s songs can be hard to explain, but Diana is an epic album that burns with a steady, stately drama. Most of the songs ride swelling synths and measured, 80’s sounding drums and center around June’s unique, emotive voice and head turning lyrics. Jones had fronted the Australian rock band Two Steps on the Water and written songs on the guitar for many years, but it’s pretty clear from listening to the writing and sound on Diana that these songs were meant for piano, synth, and a solo album. Her own writing. Her own words.
The album begins with the brooding “Rome From Afar” and the opening line “I got drunk again last night & I fell down outside the bathroom at my little sister’s party.” It then follows a dancing bass line into an apocalyptic nightmare of a world ending. “Meryl” is a gorgeous, autobiographical (?) song, an ode to “complicated” hard working women everywhere. There are parts of Diana that nod to it being a break up album, like in the gorgeously melancholic “Boulder Falling Slow” (”I am a boulder falling slow / You’re a magnificent spiderweb”) but I have been viewing it as just a complex, everyday life album. Jones lets her magnificent voice trail slowly over seemingly uncomfortable or awkward topics that she strives to make… not so. Sorry Alex Cameron, your “eating your ass like an oyster” line in “Miami Memory” is only the second best “eating ass” line this year after Jones’ “Look at You Go!” Her voice often belies the emotion in her lyrics, she works it up & down, and lets it stretch out over words, like in lonely closer “Sixteen Horses,” but she also sounds almost matter of fact at times. There is a moment in the piano led “Thorn” where she glibly throws “Have you seen the moon tonight? No, me neither, who cares about the moon when everything is dying?” over an understated horn trill. Everything is dying after all, but I want June Jones to sing it to me like an Australian Lana Del Rey or Matt Berninger. Trust me, you’ll be hearing more about June Jones in the coming years. Watch out.
“I haven’t thought too much about family / Ain’t got no husband or a couple of kids / I’ve spent 26 years in this office / I said goodbye to my relationships a long time ago / What does the mayor of a small town heart do after she retires?”
JUSTIN PETER KINKEL-SCHUSTER / Take Heart, Take Care
My long time music friend Adam over at songsfortheday had been trying to tell me about Justin Peter Kinkel-Schuster for quite a few mixes with songs I loved from his 2016 release Constant Stranger. But it somehow wasn’t until I needed Take Heart, Take Care, that Schuster’s work hit me right. It didn’t feel like a light at the end of the tunnel, but more like a light in the tunnel, something lasting, a collection of songs lifting up & out towards a light. As Schuster wrote upon it’s release…
“Here, I’ve fumbled my way, as always, and of necessity, into a collection of songs that hold a light to the joys & comforts of life not given up on, those that appear over time as we are looking elsewhere, to surprise & delight us when we need them most. Sure, it’s me, so there are glimpses of and nods to the dark, but the dark is not winning anymore. I simply mean to acknowledge its presence. To me, that’s the most fundamental job of songs, of stories, of all art — to be allies, friends, companions, when we need them most and it’s my hope that these songs can do that work in a world that seems to need it. If you are lucky enough to have something good to say, say it. Please. We’ll thank each other, now & later.”
So i guess it’s that second part that I have found solace in through my 20′s and into my 30′s. That songs (and stories & all art, but songs & albums seem to be my thing) can be allies, friends, & companions, and that sometimes (like Hanif Abdurraqib wrote in his brilliant collection of essays “They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us”)…
“If you believe, as I do, that a blessing is a brief breath to take in that doesn’t taste of whatever is holding you under: say I Speak To God In Public and mean more than just in his house, or mean more than just next to people who might also speak to God in public, or say God and mean whatever has kept you alive when so many other things have failed to.“
Take Heart, Take Care is a straightforward, well written, indie rock album. The songs ring true with light & darkness, an uplifting take on growing older and finding “Plenty Wonder” still to be found in the world. Schuster played the Hi-Dive on South Broadway in November, the last show on the Take Heart tour. A show I had bought tickets for months in advance, and I found myself in a crowd of maybe 15 people, celebrating the songs of Take Heart, Take Care. Listening to a writer with something good to say. Trying all in our own way to hold our own. I have a feeling I’ll keep these songs with me for awhile.
“Time is the mender / Whose strange mechanics yet untold / Bid us rise entwined together / So take heart, take care / Be true but beware / & honey we need not be scared…”
KARA JACKSON / A Song for Every Chamber of the Heart
In only 10 minutes & 42 seconds, Kara Jackson creates an intimate, magical world with just her voice and a guitar on her debut EP A Song for Every Chamber of the Heart. Four intricate & intentional songs, none longer than three minutes, finger picked slowly & methodically, Jackson balances a poetic, whimsical wandering with a steely focus on the craft of songwriting. These are the bones of songs, played honest & upfront, with no adornment. There is room for Jackson’s lyrics to really shine, all aching & wistful, yet practical. Like the way she balances “I have a crush, I have an ache” with “I know that love’s just a pain in the ass” in the bittersweet “Crush.” Her songs buzz with a youthful energy & teen angst. Wise beyond their years, finding their way in the world. As a songwriter and a poet, Jackson writes about race, activism, social justice, self, bodies, & humanity.
At 20 (!) years old, Chicago’s Jackson is... oh also a poet. The 2019 National Youth Poet Laureate (!) in fact, and it was her absolutely breathtaking writing about being a teenager that first caught my attention. She quotes Gwendolyn Brooks (pulitzer prize winning American poet) in her Ted Talk saying “write what’s under your nose.” She says that Brooks took the mundane and put it on a pedestal. That she understood there are “poems in train cars, poems on front lawns, & poems in microwaves & tea kettles.” An almost obligation to celebrate the ordinary. Ordinary folks celebrating similar ordinary folks. It’s the way that John Darnielle howls on The Mountain Goats song “Werewolf Gimmick” (track nine on 2015′s Beat the Champ) about “nameless bodies in unremembered rooms.” In his prerelease essay for Merge Records, music writer Joseph Fink wrote that the entire career of The Mountain Goats has been about “giving names to nameless bodies and remembering unremembered rooms.” and what a worthy cause that is. That thought has stuck with me for years and I have always loved the specificity of it. Whether it is Darnielle resurrecting historical characters real or fictional, or the way Lady Lamb (keep reading a few more albums down!) celebrates the specifics of her friends & family, in all the messy details. Written in song, remembered forever. It is also essential that all cultures have artists who look like them and think like them, as the ones doing the remembering. It’s why it’s so important that Kara Jackson is the one doing the remembering for young black girls. The same way Eve Ewing did for her, and Gwendolyn Brooks did before that. I can appreciate the magic of the remembering, but I need to let them be the ones to tell the stories. Oh, speaking of appreciating, I bugged Jackson enough on social media and got a handmade PHYSICAL copy of the EP that I’m hanging onto forever cuz it’s probably gonna be like the next original pressing of Bon Iver’s For Emma! Thanks Kara!
“Don’t take my pillowcase, that's my place to be alone / Don’t take my lamp from me, it helps me read about places I don’t know / Don’t take a lot for me to be on my own...”
KILTRO / Creatures of Habit
My end of the year albums list usually has at least one local Denver band. The Lumineers way back in 2012, Gregory Alan Isakov & Covenhoven in 2013, Nathaniel Rateliff, Covenhoven (again!), & The Yawpers in 2015, Nina de Freitas in 2017 (hey Nina & the Hold Tight, new album in 2020 please?!), and Izcalli last year. Kiltro is a part Coloradan, part Chilean folk band that have been putting on one of my favorite live shows around town this year. The brainchild of Chris Bowers-Castillo, a native Coloradan who spent time growing up in Valparaiso, Chile, Kiltro is named after the Spanish word “Quiltro” meaning a mixed breed dog. A dog that Kiltro has taken for their logo. In their own way, Kiltro is a mix breed; both in the way they mix the sounds of South America with the folk music of North America, and also the way they mix organic, acoustic instrumentation, with electronic, looping sounds and effects pedals. Their live show is a masterclass in layers, with Bowers-Castillo adding loops of guitar rhythms (sometimes simply bare hands slapping beats on the top of the guitar) to steady bass & drums, until the songs swell & build into dramatic crescendos and almost EDM-influenced drops. The extended intros & outros are my favorite parts of their songs and the live versions (from their sweaty 2pm UMS dance party, to Lulu’s Downstairs in Manitou Springs) have stirred hearts & feet alike with dancing not usually found in the Colorado “indie-hipster” scene. Keep an eye on these guys and maybe come out to Larimer Lounge in January and witness the dance party for yourself!
“Somewhere down the bank where the dogs go / Por la calle que te lleva a Curicó / & down the beach, where no others can find / Ni por agua, piso, coche, ni avión...”
LADY LAMB / Even in the Tremor
As I have been writing this year’s favorites list, I’m realizing that so many of the albums I loved & learned, came hand in hand with experiencing the artist, and specifically that new album, live. Lady Lamb released Even in the Tremor, her masterful & moving third album, way back in April, and I had a Spring-y three weeks to learn all her intricate, visceral lyrics to sing back at her Larimer Lounge stop in Denver on the Deep Love tour. Maine by way of Brooklyn’s (by way of a bunch of other places) Aly Spaltro has always written songs for Lady Lamb like her hair’s on fire. Wailing & gasping about blood & guts & death over spiraling electric guitar, there is a realness to her writing that reminds me of the east coast emo I grew up on. But for all the blood red gore & messy heartbreak that colors much of the Lady Lamb discography, there is a light hearted tenderness as well. Tremor has songs written for & about friends, lovers, parents, & god. Quirky opener “Little Flaws” is a first-dance-worthy love song, while personal favorites “Strange Maneuvers” & “Emily” are odes to platonic friendships, mental health, & growing up. In the same way I wrote about Kara Jackson celebrating the ordinary, Lady Lamb has always celebrated specifics of people, time & space. Tremor’s characters are Spaltro’s real life people (Emily, Shervin, Kurt (Kurtie Bear), Isaac, & her Mom), and the places (the diner, the batting cage, Templehof Park, Midtown, Berlin, Montreal, Madrid, a fast food joint, the stage of a church, someplace upstate, Lavanderia & Graham Ave) are specific, varied, & globe spanning. Her stories are autobiographical and rewarding and the music is stirring, singer-songwriter rock & roll with some punch behind it. She is one of my favorite modern writers for her ability to not just tell a story, but to find wonder in the small things and to celebrate the ordinary. Like she tells Shervin, minutes before “Emily” closes the album on a gorgeous, uplifting high note, “No photographic artifact, but here is something better than that.”
“There’s a picture that I found, my first car in the falling snow / Seems like yesterday I drove down into low tide / & Isaac snapped a polaroid of me pretending I was sinking, pressed against the glass pleading / I misplaced it but I’m looking... / When we are young, if only we could see beyond our fears where we are free / When we are lonely if only we could know that in our stillness we are growing... / All the portraits we collected, while we were running around in the desert / We were trying to seem fulfilled to rewrite our New York City narratives / But Emily we were utterly dejected / We took turns crying on the passenger side of America / Too clouded to be empowered by towering Redwoods... / When did we lose the ancient truths? / Is it what we’re born bending our bodies toward?...”
LIZZO / Cuz I Love You
For much of 2019, Lizzo could be heard playing everywhere. The 31 year old Minnesotan’s third full length album Cuz I Love You, came out in April, after a busy three years of huge singles, consistent touring, & building a repertoire of songs capable of headlining arenas. When Lizzo finally exploded these last few years, it has been fun watching the whole world embrace her uptempo, bold, self-love anthems, and hearing them blaring from open Subaru windows in Cap HIll, from balconies & rooftops in uptown, and on the lips of countless joggers & bikers, loving themselves in the Denver Summer sun. I know for my part, I took Lizzo with me to the beaches of North Carolina & through the Southern mountains of Colorado, dancing, singing, & gleefully giggling along. Bottom line, the songs on Cuz I Love You are FUN! You try not to crack a smile as Lizzo romps through “Never been in love before, what the fuck are fucking feelings yo?” on the bouncing, brassy, vocal led, track one title track MOMENT. Or the way she makes up the word “accessorary” on the spot (“my ass is not an accessorary”) and then fires back with “Yeah, I said it, accessorary!” Lizzo has been an outspoken supporter of our generation’s version of the self-love, body positivity movement, and has put her money (and body) where her mouth is, inspiring legions of teens & twenty somethings to do the same. “Soulmate” is a loner anthem that finds Lizzo belting “True love ain’t something you can buy yourself / True love finally happens when you’re by yourself / So if you by yourself, then go and buy yourself another round from the bottle on the higher shelf.” The soulful slowdown “Jerome” is about being the bigger person and ending a relationship that isn’t working. Lizzo manages to actually address her own issues, focus on the work she needs to do (“I’m trying to be patient & patience takes practice.”) and still absolutely belt a singalong chorus that rhymes Jerome with “take your ass home.” Also, the deluxe version of Cuz I Love You tacks on three previous Lizzo singles that hadn’t found an album home. Those singles? “Boys,” “Truth Hurts,” & “Water Me.” Three songs totaling almost 555 MILLION plays on Spotify. With apologies to Ariana Grande & Billie Eilish (Billie see ya in a few months at the Pepsi Center!) Lizzo is the biggest superstar that I want on this list. And she 100% deserves every bit of it.
“If I’m shinin’ everybody gonna’ shine...”
ORVILLE PECK / pony
There is an appealing, theatrical quality to the dramatic country songs on Orville Peck’s debut record Pony. I spent my high school years growing up in small town Western Colorado so country music has been embedded in my brain since I was 11. I’ve gone through so many phases of loving it, hating it, loving it ironically, nostalgically, hating it for it’s sound, cheesiness, backwards politics, etc... But with Pony; these are true country songs written by a gay, masked cowboy anti-hero from.. Toronto? Maybe? Who is Orville Peck?!?! It’s like all the best parts of “country” music came together. And the mask? The fringe? All the packaging & theatrics? It makes it fun. Part Bowie, part Coheed & Cambria, part Grace Jones, part Ghost, part Brandon Flowers. Hollywood meets Vegas meets Carson City.
When I listen to Orville Peck’s songs it brings together so many feelings from my youth. From country radio & boxes of old country cds, to the dramatic side of theatre, play acting on a stage, dress-up, halloween, cowboys, loneliness, & the open road. From the tumbleweed roll & mournfully powerful coyote howl of opener “Dead of Night,” to the shoegaze rumble, autumn ride of “Winds Change.” Peck’s lyrics are honest & heartfelt, drawing on sweeping, western imagery, & idolizing the classic country ideal... the cowboy. Music marks time & place and Peck makes sure to reference the cities along his highway songs. Salt Lake City, Las Vegas, Carson City, Kansas, a veritable Rand McNally road map of the American West. In the same manner as both Black Belt Eagle Scout albums, Fruit Bats, & Caroline Rose from last year, it wasn’t until a highway drive that I truly fell in love with Pony. It was a brilliant November sunset & still warm, but windy & changing, and we knew we had to hustle to beat the snow back to Denver. Highway 159 from the Southern Colorado border through Costilla County, on the way towards Fort Garland & then Walsenburg. Purple & Orange out the window to my left, Winter on it’s way. Peck’s songs sang with a heartache... a loss. a rhinestone loneliness that country finds a way to revel in. When “Kansas (Remembers Me Now)” statics out like a long lost FM radio. When “Hope to Die” fake ends at 3:30 and instead key change pivots like a washed-up Broadway starlet, shooting her shot on a dusty jukebox. When “Nothing Fades Like the Light” draws its last, peaceful breath, closing Pony like the last light of that November sunset. Thanks Orville, this one’s a classic.
“Fell in love with a rider / Dirt king, black crown / Six months on a knucklehead hog / I like him best when he's not around / He gets me high, oh, big sky... Fell in love with a boxer / Stayed awake all year / Heartbreak is a warm sensation / When the only feeling that you know is fear / I don't know why, oh, big sky...”
RAPSODY / Eve
Rapsody’s third album Eve is a masterclass on rap music, and the Snow Hill, North Carolina rapper sounds relaxed & loose, while still staying focused & on topic with an album that reads as, as Rapsody herself puts it “a love letter to all black women including myself.” She is at the top of her game right now, and these songs cement Rapsody as one of the premier rappers in an exciting field of rap talent both young & old.
Each track on the album is dedicated to one of Rapsody’s personal heroes, and I am going to focus these words & my research for Eve (besides listening to it nonstop, which I’m currently doing now!) on those black women. Track one is for Nina Simone (”without Nina there’s no Lauryn Hill, & without Lauryn Hill there’s no Rapsody.”) and features critically important verses about black heritage & culture over Nina’s terrifying & sobering classic “Strange Fruit.” Rapsody is recognizing her legacy and the importance of heritage, but she is clearly claiming her spot in that bloodline. “Cleo” preaches standing up for yourself over a Phil Collins sample (between Cleo & Lucy Dacus, “In the Air Tonight” is getting some serious love this year!) and is named after Queen Latifah’s character in the 1996 movie “Set it Off.” From there Rapsody recognizes artists (Aaliyah), philanthropists (Oprah & Michelle Obama), actresses (Whoopi), athletes (Serena Williams & Ibtihaj Muhammed), writers (Maya Angelou & Reyna Biddy), models (Iman & Tyra Banks), and historical figures & activists (Hatshepsut, Myrlie Evers-Williams, Sojourner Truth, & Afeni Shakur). Bottom line, ALL of these women are essential google material (you’re reading this on your phone or laptop, google and give yourself a five minute refresher if there’s anyone you don’t already know!) While you’re at it, google the lyrics for Eve (and Jamila Woods’ equally incredible, equally name dropping LEGACY! LEGACY!) and listen along. This is an important time capsule document for Rapsody and it’s just a damn good rap album.
“I am Nina & Roberta, the one you love but ain't heard of / Got my middle finger up like Pac after attempted murder / Failed to kill me, it's still me, woke up singing Shirley Murdock / As we lay these edges down, brown women, we so perfect...”
SABA LOU / Novum Ovum
When I listen to Saba Lou’s intoxicating sophomore album Novum Ovum, I am transported to somewhere magical & different. Maybe older, maybe out of place & time. Everything about Novum feels… classic. From the dusty, record-store-bin-find look of the out of focus cover photo, to the laidback natural way Saba Lou seems to dance along on top of a rollicking house band lifted from the 70’s. There are elements of surf rock, shoegaze, late night soul, and classic rock & roll on Ovum, but it is all driven by the singular writing & vocals of Saba Lou. In the liner notes of the record, a note can be found, claiming that this album is meant to be from the future. 2286 to be exact! Is a concept album?! Is it actually from the future & delivered to us by a time traveling band of Germans?!! Does it have songs about Star Trek??!! Maybe, mayyyybeee... & YES!
Yet to turn 20 (!), Saba Lou is a German born singer songwriter who has been making & releasing music since she was literally six years old! Novum Ovum is Latin for “the new egg” and features a hot four piece full band, and wonderfully fleshed out songs that bounce and swing with palpable energy. The lyrics span an awesomely wide spectrum from endometriosis pain (the title track obv) to a Star Trek mindmeld tune sung from the perspective of Gracie the pregnant whale (closer “Humpback in Time”)!! All in all, Saba Lou is an absolutely electric songwriter and her youthfulness & fervor are contagious. It’s the reason I love making this list every year, and what makes discovering new music so exciting. Can’t wait for the next one!
“A brick wall around your placenta / Cut them all off from her mother blood / The hounds call for appassionata / A phoenetic paste for the fetal bud...”
SHARON VAN ETTEN / Remind Me Tomorrow
Over the last few years I started the practice of making a draft favorite albums list in January and adding albums throughout the year, as I fall in love with them. This way I don’t forget the ones I loved in January & February, the ones that got me through the backend of the Winter. I’m able to track my year in music as it develops, a sort of captain’s log. A living, personal journal using music to mark time & space as I sprint my way through another increasingly faster, increasingly chaotic year. Sometimes, scrolling through the list acts as a comfort. “That album only came out this year?! OK, this year isn’t moving too fast, that feels like forevvverrrr ago!” Sometimes it helps to show me how much I’ve grown, how much an album has meant, or has helped with my mental & emotional growth. This year, the very first album I added to that list, the very first album that I fell hard & holy hell in love with... was Sharon Van Etten’s Remind Me Tomorrow.
A blast of energy. A weird synthy, pulsing red & blue darkness. Simultaneously club-y & indie rock vibey. Van Etten’s fifth album is supposedly written from a place of contentment. A marriage, a child, a life & happiness discovered. Less desperation, more introspection. I hear in her voice & words, how taking care of yourself, how striving to be your best self, can bring out the most powerful, most emotional art. She also isn’t afraid to let her voice go and I think her vocal performances are what truly take Tomorrow to another level. “Memorial Day” rides a haunting vocal loop & tumbles in nearly wordless, glimmering vowels, all ethereal magnificence. The chorus of the brooding “Jupiter 4″ spirals upwards & then rollercoasters, a late night drunken banger. But at the heart of Remind Me Tomorrow sits one of my songs of the year, one of my songs of the decade, “Seventeen.” I had heard it first live, way back in October 2018 in the rain in the mountains at Red Rocks. I got tipsy & wrote about it the day it came out, January 8, 2019, after a long, cold stretch working the night shift. This album & especially this song will stay with me for a long time. Sharon has taught me to keep working on myself. To look back in fondness. To think about how, with hard work, how much joy & peace & comfort await in my coming years. But she also taught me to lean into emotions. To embrace the ache of memories and the bittersweetness of growing up. Thanks for making this album Sharon.
“Downtown hotspot, halfway up the street / I used to be free, I used to be 17 / Follow my shadow around your corner / I used to be 17, now you're just like me / Down beneath the ashes & stone / Sure of what I've lived and have known / I see you so uncomfortably alone / I wish I could show you how much you've grown...”
TIM BAKER / Forever Overhead
I have a special feeling tied to the collection of intimate, swirling songs Tim Baker released this year from Canada. Forever Overhead carries a certain small town holiness, recognizable to those who grew up in small towns , but specific to his own personal, north-north-eastern-eastern “small” town, St Johns, in Newfoundland & Labrador, Canada. Growing up on the farthest coast of the Atlantic on the tippy, tippy point of Canada (seriously google it!), Baker fronted emo band Hey Rosetta! for four albums until striking out this Spring on his own with Arts & Crafts Records. There is a very Springsteen-esque bent to the way he writes about growing up somewhere (as someone) small & wanting to be somewhere very big and exciting. He captures the bittersweetness of growing up so perfectly. From the teenage romantic feelings in swaying opener “Dance” & the rousing “Mirrors,” to the friends & bars & singing found in the melancholic “Spirit” and the absolute hit “All Hands.” The latter is the core of the album, a bright, rhythmic guitar number that builds & swells with voices & instrumentation to a few huge, singalong choruses. A real song of the year contender. Baker isn’t afraid to let the songs go on journeys on Forever Overhead and they rarely finish where they begin. Horns & handclaps burst in at points, celebratory & fearless. The sexual tension of “Strange River” is lightened with a false start and a “sorry. In ‘D’” followed by a belly laugh, before restarting. The light & dark are present throughout Overhead and listening to these songs remind me of growing up. I feel like I’m being given a secret glance into Baker’s youth and the parts that mirror mine make me want to lift my voice in unison with those that understand. Sometimes small collections of well written & well played songs can do that, and to me... it’s sacred. Hopefully I get a chance to visit St Johns someday, and if I do, these songs will be playing as my soundtrack.
“A boy in bed, all the windows wide / You can hear the hot rods running from the light / From the light, into the dark / That's all I wanted in my cousin's car / To listen to the wind & to the lead guitars / & feel the reckless running of your heart / Now is that gone or does that all remain? / Can I go back and have it all again? / Well now I know it, where I'm going / I'm going back behind the river / I'm going back behind the rain / Cuz no matter where you're heading / You end up where you’ve been...”
YOLA / Walk Through Fire
It’s clear from the first minute & 30 seconds of Yola’s debut full-length Walk Through Fire, that this album is destined to be an all-time classic. She comes in slow & wistful with “wish I knew what you were wishing for...” over a soft wash of cymbals and mournful country-soul guitar. Then one minute in, her voice swells to gigantic proportions, seeming to lift the song right off the page, carried into another stratosphere, timeless & magnetic. That “Faraway Look” in your eyes.
From there, Yola (36 year old Yolanda Quartey from Bristol, England) takes her commanding voice through bluesy, fiddle-led country (”It Ain’t Easier” & the title track), and laid back soul (”Shady Grove” & “Deep Blue Dream”). Personal fav “Ride Out In The Country” became a backroads, summer anthem for me this year on multiple trips through Southern & Western Colorado. Through it all, her voice booms, whispers, & rocks gently, propelling the songs forward with warmth & light. Her lyrics are full of both dreamy memories & work-a-day stories about the challenges of life. It was fun this year to have different friends & family members get into Yola at different times, getting texts like “have you heard of YOLA??!!” Sharing songs, & collections of songs (like the ones on Walk Through Fire) is what makes making this list every year so fun, and I’m always excited to see what new, life-long favorites I will discover. See you in a couple months at the Bluebird Theater on Colfax here in Denver Yola!! Can’t wait!
“A little shady grove / A memory long ago / A tale too old to know the ending / I gave it all away / It takes my breath away...”
#yola#tim baker#Sharon Van Etten#saba lou#Rapsody#orville peck#lizzo#lady lamb#kiltro#kara jackson#june jones#hiss golden messenger#fruit bats#earthgang#bon iver#black belt eagle scout#big thief#better oblivion community center#justin peter kinkel-schuster
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ACT 1
Last Fall
He sat there on a bench in the cold morning air, nursing a cup of hot coffee. The park was surreal in the morning like it was from another world and how everything that any body did has a curtain mysticism that tugs on a chord deep inside you.
He lift the coffee to his fair face to fight off the cold and though it did little to fend it off, it comforted him none the less. It reminded him of warm hands that used to keep him warm. Of hands that fend of the cold and intertwines perfectly in between his fingers. Of vague figures in his head that he cant piece together. Of people from a past life that refuses to be forgotten. All of this kept him warm.
He sat there for an hour until a unknown feeling deep inside told him to go home, that he's waiting for nothing. But he told himself "just another hour". So he sat there, his coffee now cold from the morning air.
Then the tugging in his inner chords rang louder, telling him to go home. This time, he followed. He took a cigarette from his pocket, then a lighter. He cupped his hand and lit the cigarette, took a long puff and stood up. Leaves crushing beneath his feet, he leaves.
Volition
The walls reek of cigarettes and paint. Though the smell of moving boxes over powered it temporarily. Erick was in the middle of the clutter, sorting his clothes from books. Beside him is his phone and a Bluetooth speaker. It was playing Lua by Bright Eyes, the tempo set his speed as he sort the stuff into the boxes. He never realized how much stuff he had and how much clutter he accumulated over the years. Small trinkets from events, sample prints for posters he designed and random key chains as souvenirs that friends brought home. Some of them went to a separate box except for a chosen few.
In the middle of his packing a knock on the door came. "It's open" Erick said. A girl in her mid 20s came into the room, long hair, black rimmed glasses that framed her face perfectly and a black shirt that says "Pessimism".
"Malcom couldn't make it. He said he had to band practice." said the girl.
"It's so like him to ditch me, even for the last time." said Erick as he lowered the volume on the speakers. "Well atleast I have you to help me Yan."
"I'm only here for the free coffee you promised." She looked around the room and grabbed a marker, looked inside one of the boxes and labeled it "Shirts". "You don't have a lot of stuff do you?"
"Well graphic design doesn't pay well." said Erick. "Plus most of my money goes to a freakin Creative Suites account since the ad council has been strict with pirated softwares."
"That doesn't seem to stop you from buying cigarettes and coffee." Yan said as she taped some of the boxes. She proceed to another box and checked the inside of it. It was filled with art books and a paper that had an address on it. "Do you really want to go to New York?"
"Mom has always bugged me on moving there for so long. Might as well put my dual citizenship to good use right?" said Erick. "That and a couple of other reasons."
"Couple of reasons?"
"I'm not leaving just because of that, ok?"
"Well it did contribute the most. Didn't it?"
"Can we not get into right now?" Erick lit a cigarette. Yan went over to him and took the cigarette before he could puff another. She look a puff and sat in front of Erick. Erick took another and lit it up. "This is called running away." said Yan.
"No. This is called forgetting." said Erick before taking a puff.
"I've known you for so long, you're not one to forget." Yan stood up and returned to the boxes.
Erick blew a long smoke and whispered under his voice "I can try."
Yan's phone suddenly ran. Her ring tone was the bass riff of Seven Nation Army by The white stripes. She had a different ringtone for each person. "Yan, Malcom's calling." said Erick as he picked up his own phone. He changed the song to Seven Nation Army.
"Zup ditcher? Having fun not packing boxes?" said Yan as she put Malcom on speaker.
"Can totally feel your fun all the way here. Listen I'll make it up to you tonight, come over to the QX, Tracy called us up for a gig. Booze's on me."
"I rather have coffee man." said Erick without looking up from the boxes.
"I'll bring a bottle of Bailey's if that'll get you to come out." said Malcom from the speakers.
"Fuck." he whispered. "Fine, I'm in."
"Awesome, see you there." Said Malcom. Before Yan pressed the red button on her phone, "And Yan, don't bring Joshua, he's an asshole, bye." Then the call got cut off.
"You're still dating him?" said Erick.
Yan sighed and took a long puff as he took Erick's phone. "Well, we got back together. Malcom was so busy with his band and you're always zoned out since 'that' happened. Needed someone to talk to." Yan scrolled through Erick's playlist and changed it a Gising by Autotelic.
"But he's such a prick. So clean and organized. He's practically the complete opposite of me."
"That's the point." There was a long awkward silence.
They continued to pack with the music on the background. Suddenly it stopped. They didn't bother to check why it stopped. They continued in silence. The silence was unsettling especially on the 30th floor where the noise of the street below doesn't reach them. Just the sound of the wind and the occasional plane flying by.
Then in the middle of the silence, Yan started humming a familiar tune. A tune they both knew. It started slow with a single note dragging a few seconds then a few melodies entered. Erick stood up and lit a cigarette. Walked to the corner of the room where a digital piano lay on the floor. Yan didn't notice this so it took her by surprise when his fingers caressed the first note. She stopped for a moment and smiled and continued humming. And as the melody continues its crescendo, Yan started to sing:
We saw them coming from miles away,
With hearts on their faces and minds out of place.
So don’t give me a reason to stay
To be fooled by them and take my mind away
Because only in your heart, my mind is at bay.
Erick entered:
Steal your heart dear, I know you're at bay
For I am a fool for letting you stay
When the winds wants you what more can I say
But to look down on my feet and walk away
Erick stopped playing. "We should really finish writing that song." said Yan.
"I rather not." said Erick before continuing packing.
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i am not mad, I am just...i guess tired of people making plans with me and ditching me. The gossip blog calls me desperate for a “mans” attention. You are so beyond wrong, my friend. I am desperate for feeling like someone gives a fuck. Desperate for a friendship that doesnt always make me feel second, to a significant other, better friends. You may talk shit, and think you know someone based off of what they say, but you know nothing. You don’t see the ugly side of things.
The nights i tell people that it’s okay if they have to reschedule, when secretly my brain is telling me i am not good enough. You arent there when I cry because I realize that people would be so much better off without me. you arent there when i sit on the bathroom floor after a shower, contemplating cutting myself. But I never do because that means i would lose my daughter. you arent there when i finally think someone could want me more than sex, only to watch them fall in love with someone else. You arent there when I have put up with my exes bullshit, you werent there when he cheated on me and lied about it. So yeah I am desperate, but not for someone to be in love with me, but for someone for once to give a flying fuck. I need someone to see how sad i am sometimes and not make me feel awful, for it.
I know it is all fun and games, but livi is all ive got. without her in my life, i wouldnt know what i needed. people always tell me having kids is boring, but its nice to know someone loves you and doesnt care if you are a hot mess. Doesnt care that you sometimes cry for no reason. They never make you feel second. She may be the reason people don’t like me, but its not like they would be important anyhow. Just a ship passing through the night, is what they all are. I am proud of how far i have come. i am proud of how i handled losing my Lua two years ago, ever watch your child take their last breath? probably not. How i handled being cheated on, and how i still fucking get up and go on with my life, well some people wallow in self pity. I never ask for pity, i never even ask for sympathy. I never ask anyone for anything, because i know they will just disappoint me. So sorry for being “desperate”.
I love me for who I am. I am proud of me for how i have managed to not let life break me. I have managed to make myself proud of myself finally after years of self doubt. I would give anything to be back home in ohio where the people are less fake, and less disappointing. LA is home but it will never be home. I don’t care how many times the gossip blog says i am desperate for a mans attention or picks on me for talking to guys, who honestly i am just trying to befriend, because deep down i know that they don’t know me, they know what i say, what i write. No one knows me. I know me, my family knows me, the rest is worthless in my eyes.
Here is to 2017 the year where no one will fucking bring me down!
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