#lyric - come back from san francisco
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come back from san francisco: it can't be all that pretty
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For her, poetry is a social act, by Mickey Fridman, «San Francisco Examiner», December 7, 1977 [Constellations of Black feminism in UC Berkeley’s archives – Stories of UC Berkeley Library. Carton 6:50, Barbara Christian papers, BANC MSS 2003/199 c, The Bancroft Library, University of California, Berkeley, CA]
(transcription)
For her, poetry is a social act
By Mickey Friedman
Examiner Photo by Katy Raddatz
(Image description) June Jordan is seen in front of a chalkboard, looking toward the camera.
(Image caption) June Jordan: The New York Times wrote: 'Whatever becomes of poetry in English hereafter, Jordan's poems will likely be a conspicuous part of it'
While many who write poetry do so for private self-expression, poet June Jordan feels that inner satisfaction is only half the story. For her, a poem is a social act. "If you hope to deserve the attention of anyone other than yourself, you're serving a social goal," she says.
At 41, June Jordan has published 10 books. She is black, politically active, a native of Harlem who grew up in Brooklyn's Bedford-Stuyvesant neighborhood, where she was a member of a gang called the Royal Bops. She is divorced and has a son at Harvard. Her latest book of poetry, "Things That I Do in the Dark" (Random House) is a selection of her work from 1966 to 1976.
Of the book, Hayden Carruth wrote in the New York Times Book Review, "Whatever becomes of poetry in English hereafter, Jordan's poems will likely be a conspicuous part of it."
Jordan does not talk about other people understanding or empathizing with her poems. What her readers can do, she hopes, is "use" her work, implying an active partnership between writer and reader. "If you write a love poem, if it's a good poem, you've depicted your feelings with accuracy. If other people can use it, they come to a better understanding of their own love," she says.
Along with poems on blackness, politics and a gamut of other topics, a section of "Things That I Do in the Dark" is devoted to love poems — some of them passionate and lyrical, others, like "About Long Distances on Saturday," slightly wry:
he calls me from his house and
the timing seems bad
and I offer to call him back
later
but he says "no"
I'm about to split for the weekend
so
call me yeah
early next week or
sometime
and the answer is
that the question is
(isn't it)
where are you going
baby
without me?
Jordan, very much the conscious artist, does not write in the "confessional" mode that "dominated poetry in the '50s," she says. "I feel that confessional poetry was a part of my life in my late teens, at a time when I wasn't really interested in other people," she says. "Most of us stop being teen-agers, and want other people to care about what we're doing. During the '60s, the civil rights movement, the peace movement and the women's movement served to propel us out of the confessional mode into a more political posture. In the context of these three movements, poetry received an enormous boost in interest."
Since language is one of Jordan's basic concerns, she has been empathetic about preserving the nuances of black English and not teaching black children that their speech is wrong. She has written, "… as a black poet and writer, I hate words that cancel my name and my history and the freedom of my future; I hate the words that condemn and refuse the language of my people in America." In her own poems, the cadences of black speech are often evident.
Jordan says she became a poet "as a result of reading Shakespeare and the Bible when I was much too young to understand them. I was influenced by the music of the words." She was also strongly affected by hearing recordings of Dylan Thomas reading his poetry: "It had a tremendous influence on me. It was almost as if he were speaking Spanish in English, it was so musical. My other big influence was Shelley. He's also mellifluous and musical."
One of Jordan's most pressing concerns at the moment is the deterioration of language. "This is one political struggle I hope I'm a serious part of," she says. "If we don't retrieve our language so we can trust it, the possibilities for interaction are gone. There isn't an alternative to words." Mentioning George Orwell's essay, "Politics and the English Language," Jordan says that political figures have been prime offenders: "The guiding principle that has been inculcated in our leaders is that they should only deal with one idea, and reiterate it over and over," she says. "Most things are more complicated than that. This is a public style of dishonesty that comes from the misuse of our language."
In these days when rhyme and meter have largely gone by the board, it is sometimes hard for the layman to judge what constitutes a good poem. Can objective standards be applied? Jordan says emphatically that they can, and sets forth guidelines in a series of questions: "First, find out what the poet was trying to do. What is he trying to have you see, feel, smell? Then, ask yourself if he has done it. Are the images hackneyed? Is there consistency in the kind of language that's used? If not, does it add to the impact of the poem? Are the verb tenses consistent? Do you feel the voice inside the poem is clear?"
Jordan is currently working on her second novel, "OK, Now," which will be published in the winter of 1978. "The idea is an enormous idea, in the Utopian tradition," she says. "It's written with a somewhat proselytizing attitude. It's about a commune, and land reform in Mississippi. I have to take it through good and bad times, enough so people don't feel I've loaded the scales."
How is writing a novel different from writing poetry? "In a poem, you can contain two voices at best. But in a novel, you can encompass a likely variety of contemporary Americans."
After the novel, Jordan wants to write a book of poems "that will involve getting to know this country. I think it's ridiculous to call yourself an American poet and all you know is New York." To help her learn the country, Jordan is considering moving to the Bay Area, where she would teach at UC Berkeley. "In New York, everything is so expensive and so dense," she says. "I want to come out here and see how people live when the environmental stress has been drastically reduced. I'd like to know how it feels to be able to park your car next to your house."
Page 22—S.F. Examiner
Wed., Dec. 7, 1977
#graphic design#poetry#newspaper#june jordan#mickey fridman#san francisco examiner#barbara christian papers#the bancroft library#university of california library#1970s
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Been too afraid to suggest this for a while bc... social anxiety,, so I'm going anon.
Just another music ask!! "The Line" by Vera Sola feels like a very Barrenclan song to me
Oooh, this is a good one, I can definitely see it. A lot of vibes for original RoseClan/early BarrenClan.
She was the first one to go <- Wheatstar
I'll be back for you, the final words she spoke
He was the second one to leave <- Ladybugstar
Whispered, don't you worry
Because time is a warm dark circle
Day is returned to the looping of the line
Night is only a passing thing
We'll be back again when it's right
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Fellas, is it gay to feel like this about your boss?
I don't show it but I quiver whenever you come near
And I cannot decipher between the thrill and the fear
I wanna stop it but like it too much to let it stop here
It's wrong but I want you tonight
It's not my own volition but I fell in deep
By running the distance I've been advised to keep
I trot to the wolf as a doting sheep
It's wrong but I want you tonight
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Rainhaze works with like 50% of songs ever made. He is my most Ashfur-esque character in that way.
There's a scavenger on the wind alone
Where he roams in the land of the dust and bones
Nobody wants to be your friend when you're a scavenger on the wind
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My mom is an oldschool fan of Laurie Anderson, and I listened to her growing up, so I was quite surprised to see that this song has become viral on TikTok. I highly recommend listening to the whole song, and her others as well.
And I said, "Okay, who is this really?"
And the voice said
"This is the hand, the hand that takes"
And when justice is gone
There's always force
And when force is gone
There's always Mom, hi Mom
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As long as people keep sending me songs, I'll keep doing them.
Maybe it's just a stupid dream
I know you'd never change your life to be with me
Six hours north in a city by the sea
I want you herе right now
I want you here with me
If I were closer, would you remember
The way I made you feel in September?
You said it's too cold in San Francisco
But I keep you warm so you'll take me where you go
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I am always here for a musical song, especially Into the Woods. Anything witchy character works for Nightberry.
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THREE DAYS GRACE MENTIONED! The actual inspiration for the song came from an El Tango de Roxanne lyric, specifically this one:
"You're free to leave me, but just don't deceive me
And please, believe me when I say I love you"
I like this song a lot too. Cormorantpaw works with any thrash-type music.
I have to ask cause I need something to last
Too many times I've been left behind <- ohh... the corm......
Will you love me or leave me forever?
Will you love me or leave me forever?
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HAH I love it.
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Yeah I can see it!
My parents sold me to a preacher
Now I miss my mom and dad
I heard they joined a cult
They say, mass suicidal death
I’m locked inside the church
They say the prophecy’s foretold
They’ll preach salvation as they tie my limbs
And rip out my teeth
They’ll soak their daggers In the pigs blood
As I beg and I plead
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The Garden is actually already on the PATFW playlist! For the reasons which you listed, and I agree with you. :) Never Love An Anchor is also Slugpelt's themesong.
It looks like this one has been suggested before, probably for Rainhaze or Deepdark! I love Saint Motel's music.
Nobody has ever seen his face
But fear his smile
I heard he'll drink your blood just for the taste
Everybody tends to disagree
On just how evil
A single human being should ever be
And all your bones, they scream for more
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The Story Behind The Song: Arctic Monkeys’ early ambitions on ‘A Certain Romance’
Lucy Harbron – Far Out Magazine | January 17, 2024
It was 2006. Mortgages were crashing, and businesses were going bust. Tony Blair was on his last legs in office as the longest-serving prime minister since Margaret Thatcher, and the hangover of ‘Cool Brittania’ was beginning to set in with an unexpected ferocity. Things were bleak when a young Alex Turner sang, “There ain’t no romance around there” through the public’s speakers. Arctic Monkeys were about to write themselves into musical history as the voice of a new generation.
The final song on their debut album, there has always been something special about ‘A Certain Romance’. In 2022, after the release of their seventh album, The Car, Turner seemed to find himself reflecting back on that 2006 track. To the musician, that early cut holds a clue to everything that was to come as he said the piece “showed that we did actually have these ambitions beyond what we once thought we were capable of”.
Coming in at over the five-minute mark, ‘A Certain Romance’ almost feels like the Arctic Monkeys’ version of a rock opera, summarising all the themes, feelings and energy that came before it on their seminal album Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not. It has the cheekiness of ‘Fake Tales Of San Francisco’ and the catchy instrumentals of hits like ‘Dancing Shoes’ or ‘I Bet That You Look Good On The Dancefloor’. Utilising the northern charm of ‘Mardy Bum’, it stands as a final, neatly summarising point on the social commentary found in their early tracks like ‘From The Ritz To The Rubble’ or ‘Riot Van’. Really, it could be argued that ‘A Certain Romance’ is the ultimate example of Arctic Monkeys’ original sound, perfectly encapsulating all the things that made the world listen up and pay attention.
It’s like they seemed to know that, too, always allowing the song a special place. In fact, it was really the band’s opening remark. Years before the offer of a debut album came around, the group were a well-oiled machine with their own local hits. They had the northern live music scene in their hands as their homemade demo CD was passed around like everyone’s worst-kept secret. Beneath the Boardwalk features eight out of the 13 songs that would be on Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not, albeit in a slightly different, lower-quality version. But the opening number, ‘A Certain Romance’, sounds just the same.
It’s all there, from the rolling opening drums to that final guitar solo. Recorded and produced in a rented studio at only age 17, the existence of ‘A Certain Romance’, one of the band’s most explorative and energetic numbers, in this form this early in their career feels like a diamond sitting in a mine. It proves that they were always onto something special.
They never needed any help. In fact, their producer, Jim Abbiss, noted that they even seemed nervous about the help. “I think they were probably a bit weary, like ‘who’s this guy? And is he gonna make our sound this or that.’”
They didn’t want anything to change too much, as the group already had the songs figured out. Turner certainly did, as the track’s meandering narrative about hometown lads, fights, and local boredom is already there. Talking on a podcast, original member Andy Nicholson revealed the story behind the song. “We had a practice room with a pool table in, and we had a party in there, and we invited another band who were friends of ours, and we all had some drinks,” he said. “Then something happened, someone throws a pool cue, someone throws a pool ball, and everyone ends up fighting,” he added, explaining the lyrics, “there’s boys in bands / And kids who like to scrap with pool cues in their hands.”
But the magic of Arctic Monkeys lies in their nuance. What begins as a snooty analysis of his local landscape is a genuinely affectionate take. “Well, over there, there’s friends of mine / What can I say? I’ve known ’em for a long long time / And, yeah, they might overstep the line / But you just cannot get angry in the same way,” Turner sings, looking around at his bandmates and lifelong friends. ‘A Certain Romance’ is not only a time capsule for the group’s beginnings but is an ode to all the people who were there with them. It’s an ode to the hometown that made them and all its various characters.
But as the last guitar solo roars to life, there is an unspoken statement that they’re going to be bigger than what they came from. “I remember when we were recording ‘A Certain Romance’ and having a conversation with the producer about the final guitar solo,” Turner told NME, recalling the moment these songs were reworked for their debut. But they wouldn’t let anyone mess with ‘A Certain Romance’, knowing exactly what they were doing and trying to say with that one. In the 2003 demo version, all the feeling is already there, and Turner wouldn’t risk it.
“There’s something that happens at the end of that track where we break some rules in a single moment,” he continued. What happens at the end of the piece feels even more special, considering how the album was recorded. “These are the songs we wanna do, and I think this is the order we wanna do them in,” Alex Turner told their producer, recounting the conversation in 2007 to RadioX, “And he goes, ‘alright, we’ll try to record them in that order as well.’” As the final song, that last guitar solo is the last thing recorded for the album, standing as a cathartic outlet and a chance for the band to prove themselves.
“We focused on the [emotional] effect of the instrumentals over the words,” Turner reflected on the track, concluding, “and I feel like we’ve been trying to do that again and again since then.”
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#I could talk about 'A Certain Romance' until I'm blue in the face or a sobbing mess#lucy did a good job on this one#she perfectly encapsulated how this song makes me feel#the moment I heard it I knew that this band was something incredibly special#it is so near and dear to my heart I will never stop singing it's praise#the fact they made this song that is so compelling and takes you an emotional journey from the beginning to end over 20 years ago????#and how protective they were of it when making the first album cause they knew it was something special#and Alex drawing similarities between 'ACR' and 'The Car' & letting the instrumental moments of the song convey more emotion than the lyri#like he always said they continue to follow the same instincts from the very beginning nearly 20 years later#i just want to write an ode to ACR so i can ramble on about it#but im gonna shut up for now#anyways please enjoy this article LOL#arctic monkeys#wpsiatwin#whatever people say i am that's what im not#a certain romance#alex turner#jamie cook#matt helders#nick o'malley#andy nicholson#far out magazine
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In memoriam
I spent the last 30 minutes or so skimming through my Tumblr archive from 2011-2012 trying to find a post I know I wrote about my paternal grandparents’ love story, but I couldn’t find it. I probably moved it to another blog at some point and deleted it here. Along the way though I found all these other memories from my early 20s, such as my coming out/confession letter to a best friend from high school, many reblogs of sappy quotes/graphics/book snippets/lyrics, reblogs of photos of places I wanted to visit (many of which I’ve now been to), songs I liked, tech news from the era (like the death of Steve Jobs), political news from the era (like marriage equality, and Barack Obama’s reelection), many reblogs about Glee, my own photos from my early days of living in San Francisco (and interning at Twitter)… All of which is to say, it captured this whole era of my life from ~10 years ago that, in retrospect, was quite pivotal.
The reason I went looking for that post is because I found out yesterday that my grandpa passed away. My dad texted me and tried to call when I was in the middle of a work meeting. I registered the text but didn’t respond, and then called back after. It was the middle of the night in China at the time (around 2am), and he learned the news earlier when my aunt had called him, and she’d been notified by the staff at the seniors home where my grandpa had been living.
As I processed the news and decided on my plans, I told people the context that he had suffered a series of strokes and had been on the decline since last summer, so this news didn’t come as a shock. This is in contrast to my paternal grandma’s passing in January 2022 (also January) from a heart attack which was sudden, quick, and utterly shocking. As the matriarch of our family, her death had hit everyone really hard then.
At his passing, my grandpa was in his late 80s, possibly 87 or 88. Which is objectively quite a remarkable achievement for someone born into the chaos of 1930s war torn China to a poor rural/farming family. He joined the communist army as an accountant/admin, and then the local police after the war, and then worked at the state hemp/cotton company until retirement. He and my grandma met in their 20s, fell in love and got married despite oppositions (this is the story I had posted about that I was looking for), had 2 kids and 2 grandkids (one of which is me), traveled, had health issues and took care of each other, and grew old together.
I realized yesterday that I wasn’t reacting as emotionally as I did to my grandma’s passing — one because he’d been on the decline, and my dad/aunt thought he almost wasn’t going to make it after his last severe stroke in July. I think I had emotionally prepared for this back then, and so expected this to happen at some point. The other reason is that his quality of life in this last year, after these strokes, had become quite poor. He couldn’t eat or talk or walk, and had become reduced to almost just skin and bones. It had become painful to see him in this state, and I’m glad he’s not suffering anymore.
However, at the same time I still feel sad and regretful because I was hoping to see him at least one more time. Even though he hasn’t been able to speak since July, and he didn’t really recognize anyone anymore… even so, I was hoping he'd hang on until I visited again.
When my grandma passed in 2022, the pandemic, travel restrictions, and lack of flight options had made it virtually impossible to travel back. The last time I visited China was October 2019. Since then, in the last few years when we called, they’d almost always ask when I can go back again. My grandpa did this all the way up until his last stroke in July when he couldn’t speak anymore. When the pandemic largely ended in 2022, I’d always say “soon”, even knowing it was impractical with the Chinese government's onerous visa policies. When they finally reinstated the pre-pandemic visitor visa policies in March 2023, I started to say that I'll go back during the summer, then the fall, then the winter, then the spring. One reason is that the flight options were both expensive and inconvenient, but the larger reason is that I prioritized other plans in my life. I'm not sure where I could've squeezed it in, but I do regret that I didn’t try harder to visit sooner.
Circling back on the whole “eras of my life” thread — I always felt like as long as my grandparents were around, I still feel like a kid in some way. They treated me like one, still babied me whenever I visited or called, and would remind me of funny anecdotes from my childhood. I know I’m pretty lucky to have gotten 30+ years with almost all 4 grandparents in my life. I also know I’m lucky that they loved me as much as they did — because not all of my friends had the kind of close relationships I did/do with their grandparents.
Growing up, I was always pretty close to my grandparents, more so to my grandma who I genuinely enjoyed talking to and would call regularly, but I have many fond memories with my grandpa too.
I recall when my family first immigrated to Canada, I would cry about missing them. Later when I went back to visit as a teenager, I would cry on the flight back to Canada.
My grandpa liked to write simple rhyming poems after he retired, liked to drink and smoke and only quit in his 60s, and liked to sing Chinese opera. One year for my birthday, he wrote a “hidden message” poem where the first word of each verse added together would say “happy birthday <my Chinese name>”.
One really special memory of him I have is when I was in kindergarten, and during afternoon nap time (which I hated) he showed up unexpectedly and took me out of school. We didn’t live in the same city but he was in my city for a work trip, and he’d decided to take me out of kindergarten early that day so we could spend time together. I remember it feeling so unexpectedly awesome — one because I was doing something I wasn’t supposed to (skip school) but also because of the surprise visit itself.
The only time I felt emotional yesterday was when my mom told me how, even though I won’t be able to attend the funeral, I could pay my respects at both of my grandparents’ gravesites when I visit. The thought made me emotional because… they can finally be reunited again, or at least not be separated by death.
Didn’t really know what I was going to write when I started this, and the words kept pouring out, but I’m glad I did.
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Well, Enid was split from Wednesday for years in the bodyguard AU (I believe a decade?) so she spent years just feeling time get past her.
"Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day, fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way."
Enid most likely spent a lot of time just thinking of Wednesday, all their moments and time together; so much time and energy that her days became a bit more dull. All her thoughts are consuming her, but she can't just stop working. She has to spend time offhandedly, thinking.
"Kicking around on a piece of ground in your hometown, waiting for someone or something to show you the way."
Enid could maybe go back to San Francisco for awhile, go back not to her family, but the places she grew up, just for a moment to feel a sense of familiarity, consistency.
And I feel it's to fair think that she'd push herself in relationships she isn't ready for, or are obviously unhealthy to begin with. Sometimes it feels better to be hurt by someone who's there than someone who stole your heart and left with it.
"Tired of lying in the sunshine, staying home to watch the rain."
Enid seems like the type to get agoraphobic after Nevermore. The sun seems worse after Wednesday leaves. Rain is something Wednesday liked, always seemed a little happier (as happy as would express, anyways) when it rained.
Enid won't go out into it, but she can still admire it.
"You are young and life is long, and there is time to kill today."
I feel like Yoko would say something to this effect; she understands that Wednesday left a mark on Enid's heart that she'll never get rid of, but that doesn't mean she should just sit inside and mope. Have fun with your friends; the pain won't stop, but you can dull it, even if only slightly.
"And then one day you find, ten years have got behind you."
This one feels pretty self-explanatory; one day it just slams into her chest, the fact that she's lost so much time to just thinking of Wednesday.
"No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun."
Imagine spending so much of your teen years loving and yearning for the touch and experience of just one person, and one day you're just an adult and people expect you to know and do things. Imagine having to sit in your lonely apartment, realizing you missed out on so much time with people because you couldn't let go.
"And you run, and you run to catch with the sun— but it's sinking, racing around to come up behind you again."
(My stars, I adore this lyric so much. Even outside of Wenclair, I love this song and this lyric.) That feeling of catching up, finally feeling free from the past just to see a crow or a murder case, and then feeling it crash into your back, right into your spine, out of nowhere. That feeling that you've been lying to yourself, gaslighting-burnt and pained. Choking on your shame.
"The sun is the same in a relative way, but you're older, shorter of breath, and one day closer to death."
Waking up and seeing the same damn sun, always bright and hot and burning and unafraid of itself. All the very things Enid wants to be, but can't be because how can she?
"Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time."
Enid couldn't bring herself to ever 'find the time' to contact Wednesday. She has the information to speak with the Addams, and by extension Wednesday. It's easy to tell yourself soon, that it'll all happen soon, but when is soon gone, and later is too late?
"Plans that either come to naught, or half a page of scribbled lines."
Maybe Enid plans to do something about it, speaking to Wednesday or an Addams or something, she'll write a whole document about it, always just a moment away from finishing it. Maybe she plans to visit Wednesday on the author's birthday, but then she misses it, and convinces herself to try again next year, because she can't do it now, she's missed the day.
"Home, home again, I like to be here when I can, and when I come home cold and tired, it's good to warm my bones beside the fire, far away, across the field, the tolling of the iron bell, calls the faithful to their knees, to hear the softly spoken magic spells."
I made this one big lyric because oh dear, it's so perfect. I feel like it'd be the end of bodyguard Enid. "Home, home again," Enid would say, walking into the home she shares with Wednesday, breathing in the scent of heat and warmth and love. She wants to be there all the time, when she can, because it's the home she shares with the woman she loves. She doesn't come back from the rain, I feel like it hits harder if you see it as her returning to Wednesday— Wednesday is her home, the person she goes to when she's so cold and bone-deep exhaustion presses on every bone in her body, snuggling up to the warmth of her lover's love.
-Writer Anon. (Sorry this took almost two days to send in. I got tired :( also, this is about Time by Pink Floyd, incase you couldn't hear the song well enough from your ear being messed up. Take better care of yourself, Streamer.)
Yes Enid has been split from wednesday for a decade since she was 16 to 25! Spent like five to six years in smth military related before being a bodyguard for two years
But damn, the more we explore bodyguard Enid the more I realized that she's been a in slump that whole decade which is just.. Sad. The way you write her makes her a bit more healthier to be honest because personally what I had in mind was something more off in the head, a lil side effect of being a grimwolf, military service and yearning for her mate that's been absent for far more than she should
OVERALL THE WAY YOU TIED THE LYRICS TO ENID'S JOURNEY 😭😭 Boutta cry, she's just a sad girl missing her love, I'm happy she got to go home in the end, that's amazing for her
No worries about taking your time writer! I hope you rested well, that's what matters in the end
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ON THIS DATE (53 YEARS AGO)
June 14, 1970 – Grateful Dead: Workingman's Dead is released.
Workingman's Dead is the fourth studio album by the Grateful Dead, released on June 14, 1970. It reached #27 on the Billboard 200 Top LP's & Tapes chart. In 2003, the album was ranked number 262 on Rolling Stone magazine's list of the 500 greatest albums of all time.
The title of the album comes from a comment from Jerry Garcia to lyricist Robert Hunter about how "this album was turning into the Workingman's Dead version of the band."
Garcia has said that much of the sound of the album comes both from his pairing with Hunter as well as the band's friendship with Crosby, Stills and Nash. "Hearing those guys sing and how nice they sounded together, we thought, 'We can try that. Let's work on it a little,'" commented Garcia.
Songs such as "Uncle John's Band," "High Time" and "Cumberland Blues" were brought to life with soaring harmonies and layered vocal textures that had not been a part of the band's sound until then. According to the 1992 Dead oral history, Aces Back To Back, in the summer of 1968, Stephen Stills vacationed at Mickey Hart's ranch in Novato. "Stills lived with me for three months around the time of [CSN's] first record," recalls Hart, "and he and David Crosby really turned Jerry and Bobby onto the voice as the holy instrument. You know, 'Hey, is this what a voice can do?' That turned us away from pure improvisation and more toward songs."
The Grateful Dead's first four albums reinforced their stature as a performing group, with a loose improvisational feel rooted in the blues, rock & roll, and modern jazz. But with the 1970 release of Workingman's Dead, Garcia, Weir, Lesh, McKernan, Kreutzmann, and Hart reined in their many spatial musical elements and found their true stylistic niche in the studio with an engaging blend of country, blues, and folk. Where earlier studio releases strove to recreate the kind of freeform group improvisations that won the Dead a fanatical cult following in the Bay area, Workingman's Dead drew upon a rural American vernacular that was in many ways analogous to that of the Band.
The resulting music has a rootsy, timeless quality, with tight instrumental arrangements, concise solo breaks, and a carefully wrought style of vocal harmonizing. The Dead won extensive airplay with tuneful songs like "Uncle John's Band" and "Casey Jones," while expanding their following well beyond San Francisco. Garcia's slithering pedal steel counterpoint and twangy banjo rolls make for a charismatic new style of bluegrass on "Dire Wolf" and "Cumberland Blues," while "New Speedway Boogie," featuring some of Robert Hunter's best lyrics, is a pointed personal metaphor for the tragic chaos at Altamont the summer before. This remains one of the legendary band's most concise and beautifully executed records.
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ORIGINAL ROLLING STONES REVIEW
It's so nice to receive a present from good friends.
Workingman's Dead is an excellent album. It's a warming album. And most importantly, the Dead have finally produced a complete studio album. The songs stand up quite nicely right on their own merits, which are considerable.
"Uncle John's Band," which opens the album, is, without question, the best recorded track done by this band. Staunch Dead freaks probably will hate this song. It's done acoustically for a starter. No Garcia leads. No smasho drumming. In fact, it's got a mariachi /calypso type feeling. Finely, warmly-lush tuned guitar work starts it off, with a statement of the beat and feeling. When Garcia comes in with the vocal, joined by a lot of tracks of everyone else's voices, possibly including his, it's really very pretty. The lyrics blend in nicely with the music. "All I want to know/How does the song go?" "Come hear Uncle John's band/playing to the tide/Come with me, or come alone/He's come to take his children home." Near the end of the song there is an a cappella section done by everyone, sounds like about 62 tracks, maybe 63. Just listen to it, and try not to smile.
The years of playing together have shown handsome dividends. "Dire Wolf" points this out. It's a country song, Garcia's steel guitar work is just right, and everyone sings along to the "Don't murder me" chorus.
The country feeling of this album just adds to the warmth of it. "Cumberland Blues" starts off as a straight electric cut, telling the story of trying to make ends meet in bad times. Slowly, imperceptibly at first, a banjo enters the song. By the end, I was back at the old Gold Rush along with everyone else. The banjo brought me there.
Even the cuts that are not directly influenced by country stylings have a country feel to them. I suspect that this is due to, the band's vocals. Living out on their ranch seems to have mellowed them all, or at least given a country tinge to their voices. "Casey Jones" is not the theme song you might remember from television. "Driving that train/High on cocaine/Casey Jones you better watch your speed." Listen closely, especially to the cymbal work. Then listen to Phil Lesh's bass mixing with Weir's guitar. Now listen to the cymbal again. Yep. They did it. I don't know who's train is better, Casey's or the Dead's. Living sound effects. Just fine.
~ Andy Zwerling (July 23, 1970)
#gratefuldead#grateful#alwaysgrateful#alwaysdead#playdead#workingmansdead#a band beyond description#grateful dead#forevergrateful#foreverdead
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interregnum
(A snapshot, amidst the Battle of Britain. Arthur and Matthew-centric. Notes: Content warning-wise—injury mention. No explicit violence. “Jack” is AUS, and “Zee” is NZ. 800 words).
London, 1940
“Well then, what does it say, Matthew?”
Arthur’s right arm is ensconced in a sling—but as always, his father is no less imposing, in the sharp and neat lines of his olive-coloured dress uniform, the gold of his buttons gleaming and polished. Even wounded, he exudes power effortlessly.
“It’s postmarked from New York.” Matthew slices open the envelope.
“Go on. Read it out.” Behind Arthur, the morning sun streams in, through the large, expansive windows of his office, scattering diamond-shaped patches of light onto the antique carpet and the hardwood floor. On the glass itself—tape, placed in a methodical, diagonal crisscrossing pattern, accompanied by dark curtains. The standard precautions for nightfall nowadays.
Thus far, the air raid sirens had mercifully been silent today.
Matthew unfolds the letter. Alfred’s handwriting is bold and hurried, his tone casual and light-hearted. Yo old fart—A whole colourful paragraph on how Billie Holiday and Gregory Peck— a new but apparently promising actor—had been in town. The latest jazz concerts he’d attended. The nice cut of sirloin he’d had last night, at the Waldorf-Astoria.
“He says…” Matthew skims his brother’s letter. He jumps to the second last paragraph, “...that he’ll be in San Francisco. At the naval facility and shipyard there. Keeping an eye on the Pacific. And that Congress will probably widen the cash-and-carry scheme to include war materiel. He wishes you good luck, and says that there’s a box of genuine Cuban cigars for you in the mail.”
“Well, I certainly never would turn down a good cigar but—Good luck? Cash and carry?” Father snorts, his tone derisive. “Does that wretched lad think my gold reserves are unlimited, to pay him for all that?” He turns away from Matthew, the slope of his shoulders tense. “So, he’s not coming, is he?”
He’s angry now, Matthew knows. Not the sort of turbulent rage that was a prelude to the sorts of shouting matches Father had with Alfred, but something simmering, like a kettle slowly boiling over on a stove. Anger was what Father preferred to show, over disappointment—whenever it came to Alfred.
Matthew resented them both for it, at times. How often had he been the bedraggled mediator and go-between for Father and Alfred? For his brother, the ocean that lay between them and Father was actually a barrier the way it wasn’t for Matthew. His brother had always done whatever the hell he wanted, his will as forceful and indomitable as trying to bottle a hurricane.
Father had fumed for three decades after he’d burned Alfred’s name off the family tree. But then, as the years went by—he’d mellowed on his brother. Turned back to regarding his eldest son with the sort of grudging respect and recognition he bestowed on an equal—and no one else. Not Matthew, nor Jack and Zee, not even Father’s own siblings, let alone anyone else across the rest of his vast empire, no matter how much they’d bled for King and Country.
But Matthew squashes those feelings down for now. It wasn’t the time.
“No. He isn’t.” Matthew replies carefully. “He says his hands are tied by the Neutrality Acts.”
“Is that what he said?” Father laughs, sharp and loud. His green eyes glint as he turns to face Matthew. “Steel bars and the Almighty himself couldn’t tie that wretch’s hands, not unless he allowed them to.”
The New World, with all its power and might, Churchill had anointed, waxing lyrical and dramatic. Alfred, Matthew knew, would squeeze something more through the legal loopholes, sooner or later. It wouldn’t be nothing, it would help—but it would be far short of what Father really wanted. His brother was that way. All those tangled up threads about family that Alfred preferred to avoid upfront, to bury under cheerful irreverence or, on other occasions, spiteful snippiness towards their father.
You have me, Dad, is what he wants to say. But he doesn’t. “I’ll write back to him.”
“You do that. Maybe he’ll listen, if it’s coming from you.” Arthur’s nod is curt. The line of his mouth is thin. His nostrils flare. “Goodness. When I said ‘in God’s good time’, I meant hurry the bloody hell up, not sit there twiddling your thumbs.”
This, Father says with casual, dismissive annoyance. As though he’s dealing with something no more inconvenient than a tailcoat not being mended on time or being short on his favourite Earl Grey. As though it were something displeasing but ultimately of little import to him and his plans, old and confident as he was in his power—but it’s obvious.
How much Arthur really looked— in the face of the unfolding disaster before them, with bated breath and carefully-concealed hope—to his estranged son and Matthew’s older brother. How much he longed to have Alfred by his side.
#hetalia#hws england#hws canada#arthur kirkland#matthew williams#hws america#alfred f jones#my writing#quick drabble#long post
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Favorite Lyrics From Heartbreak Weather
Heartbreak Weather:
You, that's what I've been missing/was tangled up and twisted/now all the clouds been lifted.
Black and White:
I can't promise picket fences/or sunny afternoons.
Dear Patience:
So, this song, THIS SONG. Has too many.
1 - Dear patience/Can we share a drink and let go of the pressure?
2 - Just me and the stars can get lonely
3 - Hey can you show your face/Can you see that I'm anxious/Can you hear what I'm saying, saying/Hey, cause I fall to fast/and go down blazing
4 - If I pour my heart out can you keep a promise (hmm)/Cause the situation/is like a mountain weighing on my conscience
(yeah ok the whole song)
Bend The Rules:
And I pour myself a glass/it won't be the last/just all medicine for now
Small Talk:
Oh, you see the fool in my mind/Can't run and hide/With your stare on me
Nice To Meet Ya:
I want your number tattooed on my arm in ink, I swear/cause when the morning comes/I know you won't be there
Put A Little Love On Me:
yeah this one is trouble for me too
1 - Is it wrong I still don't know my heart?
2 - Another Friday night tryna put on a show/Do you hate the weekend 'cause no one is calling
3 - I've still got so much love hidden beneath this skin.
4 - We wrote and we wrote/ 'til there were no more words/we laughed and cried/until we saw our worst
5 - Last night I lay awake/stuck on the things we say/and when I close my eyes, the first things i hear you say is/put a little love on me , yeah
6 - When the lights come up, we're the only ones dancing/I look around and you're standing there asking/you say, you're the only one I need
ok, again, the whole song
Arms of a Stranger:
If we're not going to do this honestly/Baby, won't ya give me back what you took apart
Everywhere:
The ground beneath my feet's a bit colder/I see your face in people I don't know/Feels like the world is twisting in slow-mo/And I'm stuck in one place
Cross Your Mind:
You keep talkin, I'll just listen/Daydreaming 'bout where your lips' been/pull my heart right out my chest, drive a train through/still get up and forgive you
New Angel:
Each time I close my eyes/she's in there running wild/I'm hoping you get her out of my mind.
No Judgement:
Even though we both know we'll move on/I'll keep your secrets safe/until that time we find ourselves alone again
San Francisco:
Drunk dialing/Full dive in/Don't you tell that it's too late now/Cause I'm pacing/I keep breaking/Is there a way to make it up somehow?
Still:
hahahaha a few lyrics she said to herself once
1 - My mind is complicated/Find it hard to rearrange it/But I'll have to find a way somehow/Overreacting lately/Find it hard to say I'm sorry/But I'll make it up to you somehow
2 - And I just don't know why/The stars won't shine at night
3 - Tell me you want it/A thousand miles away from the day that we started/But I'm standing here with you just tryna be honest/If honesty means telling you the truth/Well, I'm still in love with you
4 - Did I miscalculate this/Let's just go back to basics/Forget about what's come and gone/'Cause I hate to see us like this/Breaking up on nights just like this/We should be shooting for them stars of gold
Yeah, all in all that is the whole song.
Dress:
I'm calling 'cause I'm nervous/I know that we don't talk/I know that it's on purpose
Nothing:
What turns the sky from black to gold?/What sends my tears up in flames?
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Talking about Making Space
i dubbed this a concept album when i made it, but i think i misunderstood the definition at the time. i’d written a handful of songs during the year, which i had intended to release as an EP or an album, but most of the demos i had remained unfinished, even by december.
all of these songs are about my time in san francisco, over my birthday & also the christmas period in 2021. the plan was to go for my birthday, meet up with my friends, and have a silly time together. you may remember the great resurgence of covid cases that occurred in november/december of that year, which definitely plays a part in this. but keep in mind i had booked my flight in june.
admittedly, it was a stupid idea to plan a meetup with internet friends you made during lockdown, only a matter of months after said lockdown measures had been slightly relaxed. it was june and i’d figured things would be much better with the rate that things seemed to be improving and opening back up again. i had managed to avoid catching the dreaded illness up until that point, and i’d confidently gone in to take my fit-to-fly covid test two days before. but the night before my flight, my mum took a test of her own amidst coming down with what seemed to be a heavy cold, and when she called for me up the stairs with a panicked voice, i knew exactly what she was going to tell me.
i was faced with a tough decision. i hadn’t yet received the results of my fit-to-fly test but i realised i was potentially about to receive what i deemed would be earth-shattering news. i went to my dad’s place to spend the night and hopefully avoid catching the virus (if i hadn’t caught it already), mere hours before my flight. i told my friends that there was a chance i wouldn’t be able to make it, but even if my test was negative, there was still a chance that i had caught it and was still in the incubation stages.
we decided as a group that if the test was negative, it was probably better to just risk it and go anyway, rather than waste all the money i had already spent on getting there and staying there. so when the test came back negative, i went.
as you can probably guess from all this buildup, two days into the trip i developed my first covid symptom, and two days after that, i tested positive. i wasn’t the only one, though. we hadn’t thought in depth about what would happen if we weren’t able to get the negative tests we needed to get home. we had to extend the trip to accommodate for the ten day isolation period and to also let enough time pass by that we could produce negative tests again. this meant having to relocate to a smaller airbnb where we’d stay for christmas. what ensued during this period of isolation was what you might expect from four ill, stir-crazy, homesick people who had to spend christmas in a place with one bedroom in it. i won’t go into detail about what exactly happened, though - that’s what the album is for.
the album is the aftermath. the impact of this trip was still fresh in my mind and on my body as i had flown home on december 29th with seemingly worse symptoms than i’d had when i was actually sick with the virus. a delayed reaction (and probably a result of not sleeping for 36 hours on the journey home) with my lungs has flared up my asthma at the worst it had ever been. i was basically bedridden for the two weeks following my arrival home. i was feeling a lot of things, too. i had so many regrets - things i hadn’t said or done while with the people i was convinced i’d probably never see again, things i had said or done that i felt i had no control over at the time while my brain was at mercy to sickness and discomfort, making the decision to go while knowing the risks and bringing everyone down with me.
EDIT: we were also drunk for a lot of the time. i think that’s worth mentioning.
now, almost two years later, i don’t regret anything. (well, maybe some things.)
1. Making Space
this one’s very blatant in its lyricism. we, or at least i, was going completely stir crazy in this airbnb that had one bedroom in it. i was hating myself pretty intensely both during and after all of this had happened. i was rejecting the affection of all of my friends.
2. The Art of Texting
the year preceding this trip hadn’t been easy. i found myself seeking comfort in my friends who were willing to let me completely lean on them, so long as i let them do the same with me. this resulted in some unhealthy codependency that, despite the implications, i still look back on somewhat positively. how do you convey your deepest feelings to someone when all you can do is text or call them? (miscommunicate).
3. Understand (All the Best)
i came home feeling like i was broken. i had strong feelings, but they felt like the wrong feelings, and i regretted not letting myself get fully comfortable around the only people i’d ever been comfortable with.
4. Dunes
i believe it was on boxing day that i had finally had enough of being indoors. a friend and i went on a long walk down a nearby beach, at night, where we shared airpods (until they died) and listened to music out of a phone speaker (until it died) while walking up and down and climbing some of the sand dunes that had formed. it was the most peaceful i felt the entire time i was there.
the image for the album art was taken on this walk.
5. Are We Alright?
mainly focused on the aftermath of this trip - i had a lot i needed to fix once i got home. guilt was not enough. i was unthinkably cold. i had to wear gloves in my room.
6. New Year
written about the year of 2021 as a whole, and what i went through with my friends. i used this song as a general outlet for my deep desire to repair a friendship that i’d fucked up. i think it helped.
7. Bad at Talking
every single friendship i had was in a state of disrepair after this trip. i wasn’t entirely sure what everyone thought of me after meeting me in person for the first time and then immediately seeing me at my worst.
8. Late Again
i was feeling inadequate as a long distance friend, and also inadequate to fulfil life’s basic expectations of me. i wish i remembered the exact intentions i had as i was writing this. but the stuff about missing my train and being thirty minutes late to class actually happened.
9. Twin Beds
on my last night in san francisco, my friend and i shared a twin hotel room. it was the first time in a week that i had my own bed to sleep on. he floated the idea of sharing a bed and i thought it was both funny and outrageous.
i flew home the next morning, but two of my friends were hit with an endless stream of complications. one had such extreme delays due to weather that he missed his layover and had to spend an extra night away from home. the other found out that canada’s covid policies were different to that of the us and uk. they had to spend an extra two weeks(?) in san francisco, by themselves. i felt bad about how relieved i was to be at home while they still had not made it. part of me, now, wished i had stayed.
10. All the Best / Goodnight
reading these lyrics back, i’m transported back into the toxic mindset i was stuck in for a while after i returned home. i was struggling with a lot of self hatred, for a whole plethora of reasons, and i spent a lot of time wishing nobody knew me or thought of me at all now that i was painfully aware that people knew me and were thinking of me.
i still write songs about this experience today. i need to stop, but honestly it somewhat shaped me into the person i am now, unlocking desires and urges i didn’t know i had.
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youtube
Fiction Factory - "(Feels Like) Heaven"
Steve Masters Presents: A Trip Back to the 80's
Song released in 1983. Compilation released in 1995.
Synthpop / New Wave
For a pretty brief moment there in the mid-80s, right in the middle of the whole synthpop boom, the Scottish group of Fiction Factory really appeared to be onto something that was quite good. And the funny thing about them was that they actually, at first, had no intention of being a band themselves. Members had tried that in the past and had grown weary of having to play too many concerts, so when the group was officially formed, what they really wanted more than anything else was to be one of those behind-the-scenes songwriting outfits who could work on and make music for other people. In fact, that idea is what had inspired their whole name in the first place: they would be ardent songwriters, whose constant output would resemble that of a factory, but the notion that they were an actual band would be pure fiction.
However, once CBS Records heard their demo, that dream of relative anonymity had been dashed. Despite Fiction Factory's protestations to the contrary, the label saw a band in front of them that could potentially make it. And so the trio of Kevin Patterson, Eddie Jordan, and Chic Medley ultimately relented and decided to enlist two more members in order to fill out their ranks: a bassist named Graham McGregor and a former drummer from the already pretty successful Simple Minds—although "Don't You (Forget About Me)" had yet to drop—Mike Ogletree.
And things ended up starting out okay for them. Fiction Factory would make their debut in 1983 with a single called "Ghost of Love," which would manage to chart at #64 in the UK and #49 in Germany. But then directly after that, they caught lightning in a bottle with "(Feels Like) Heaven," an absolute feelgood, nostalgia-inducing, sweet and sentimental-sounding, middle-of-the-road, massive, and classic 80s triumph that they had actually crafted in the span of about 36 hours.
youtube
Now, if you're an American, chances are that you may have never heard of Fiction Factory before, because despite "(Feels Like) Heaven" earning itself some burn on both US radio stations—tastemaking San Francisco DJ Steve Masters was a huge proponent of it, especially—and MTV, nothing that this band ever made sold all that well Stateside, and as a result, they never charted here in any capacity.
But over in the UK, and also throughout parts of Europe, "(Feels Like) Heaven" fared extremely well: it was #2 in Switzerland, #4 in Ireland, #6 in the UK, and #10 in both Belgium and West Germany too.
And it's just such a tasty little morsel of unbeatably dreamy 80s synthpop, driven by a perpetually fluffy string synth backdrop that gets some simple, lovely, catchy, chiming keyboard melodies that attempt to emulate the sound of a music box to float atop it; and Kevin Patterson offsets his deep vocal tone on the verses with very different falsetto choruses too.
But while this song's overall vibe might leave you thinking that it'd be a perfect fit for any sort of 80s coming-of-age scene where the typically shy teenage boy main character finally gets up enough courage at the prom in order to ask his crush for a dance, "(Feels Like) Heaven" is actually one of those songs whose lyrics tell a completely different story. It may give off an appearance that it's about being comfortably and deeply in love with someone, but a more careful scan of the lyrics actually reveals the song's subject matter to be the exact opposite. What it's really about is that exhilarating feeling of liberation that one might get after a bad relationship has finally come to a close.
Twisting the bones until they snap
I scream but no one knows
You say I'm familiar, cold to touch
And then you turn and go,
'Feels like heaven'
And I don't know how many people have actually picked up on the winking irony that's within this song, but you can apparently find it on a whole bunch of comps that claim to be comprised exclusively of love songs. And I bet some wedding couples have chosen it for their first dance too 😅.
Unfortunately, Fiction Factory weren't able to really succeed with anything that came after this bop, though; no other song on their 1984 debut album really seemed to sound like "(Feels) Like Heaven" itself, and because of that, I think people who'd bought it were a bit turned off. And CBS were also probably left unsure of how to market them successfully too. The group would return the following year with Another Story, but neither it nor its corresponding trio of singles were able to chart anywhere, and in 1987, they decided to go their separate ways.
Synthpop bands were about as prevalent as oxygen throughout the entirety of the 80s, and while Fiction Factory probably aren't the ones who first come to mind when you think of that era's top groups, there's no doubt that, for a whole lot of Europeans, "(Feels Like) Heaven" is still one of the genre's most fondly remembered hits, overall. And while Fiction Factory may not have had much longevity as a group, this one big hit of theirs still seems to land them pretty healthy residual checks to this very day, which is probably a whole lot more than most other bands of their ilk can continue to say.
Listen to it on Spotify too:
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like the moon needs poetry, you need me
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hey guys do u wanna hear me yapping about how i think angel care and last journey by iyowa fits how i feel ab jacket's mourning after he lost beard and gf? no.?????? ok idc ure still hearing me out!!!!
all the translations referenced!!
last journey / ラストジャーニー [tl source]
angel care / エンゼルケア [tl source]
both translations are by Spicy Sweets!! go check out their blog here :]
og songs if u want to listen to them!!!
last journey / ラストジャーニー [this could make u motion sick, be wary of that!!! take care!!!]
angel care / エンゼルケア
so, for context, last journey is about someone losing their partner / close friend / loved one / whatever else, either due to suicide or something else. and angel care is basically the aftermath, hence the lyrics referencing last journey!!
"I thought I'd stop by to see you. While tripping on the smoke of our burning love" y'know how from chapter 3 (decadence) onward you see girlfriend in your house, just hanging around, right? i like to think this line kinda parallels that, jacket coming back home to see her again, because no matter what he still probably worried about her and wanted to see if she's okay. especially after what the snuff film producer put her through.
"When the dead body started talking, it devoured what little daily life I had" the missions he was sent on by 50B. what else do i say!!!
"I made it here because I had halfway expectations" also somewhat relating to both 50B and girlfriend, expecting either a house full of russians to beat down on or his beloved girl waiting for him.
"Your phone died, and you didn't have friends you could go to, so I was worried." beard talking about how there's something going on outside the shop he works at in san francisco, then walking out after hanging up and getting fucking CLAPPED by the nuke.
"I'll get a bit of rest in this freezing, rust-colored world." how jacket felt after losing the one friend he trusted the most, probably being sleepless for like days on end because of how much it fucked him up - or oversleeping, i mean... that's just depression and grieving for u
"Our little home was blown away, but I made it here because I wanted an unraveled love" again, san francisco getting blasted and jacket wishing he could've saved beard somehow, even if that's not possible.
"I clung onto a dream that wouldn't ever comfort me on our last journey" that part in hlm1 where suddenly jacket sees the world for how it is, the shopkeeper no longer being beard but some bald guy. hence the "dream that wouldn't ever comfort me" part, but that's just me probably looking a little too much into it ^_^"
what do i say!!!!! that part in the game where gf gets shot and wasn't able to be saved :[
now here's angel care!!!!!!
"I made it here because I have only one regret" him regretting that he didn't save beard or gf in time. i mean, he couldn't do jack shit but he surely wishes he could.
"My favorite books are all boring now. Those changes rose to the surface along with my beloved" the monotony of life in jail after he shot the grandfather point blank, and then maybe the memory of beard and gf's moments with him surfacing. god. ok this is making me sad why did i do this to myself
"No matter how many times I'm reborn, I can never atone." more of a meta thing, though also you brought it upon yourself by killing mobsters and basically leading to the world pretty much blowing up.
"I'm sorry for not saving you, I'm sorry for looking away" i explained this like 95954954 times u get it by now
"I savored the loneliness that lingered among my dulled senses. Ahh, if I pretend that I'm burdened by fate, then it'll be fine if I say it'd all for your sake, right?" wanting everything to turn out okay, maybe downplaying how he feels as he thinks it's stupid. i'm looking into it too much god help. idek how to word it at this point
again, the san francisco incident and that part in / before trauma
the "I'm sorry" lines are self explainatory, the "as we're reduced to ashes" is the nuke!!!
"Ahh, the world's ending, I loved you" the end of wrong number, it all makes sense.
"Your long journey is over now." both to the player and everyone else, you've done all you did and caused it.
ty for reading my unhinged rant and stream of conscience!!!
#shit this would make-#-for a banger post#hotline miami#hlm#iyowa#いよわ#vocaloid#hlm beard#hlm girlfriend#hlm jacket#suicide mention#long post#aghhghg sorry for dropping this i just think id get this out since i was rambling to someone about this and was like#ness screams
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(DECIDEDLY TOO LONG) HEADCANONS
leo started doing drag when he moved to san francisco and was living in the castro and really got to dive into queer culture for the first time. during an early bonding event with some of the other people in his program, he went to a drag brunch when he met (and later slept with lmao) the queen who would become his drag mother. his drag name is leo michele, and he has a whole bit where he asks an audience member to request a song, he pretends he doesn't know it even if he does, and he struggles to read the lyrics off of his phone so he makes the audience member sing it with him for a verse before he takes over. he doesn't do it as much as he wants to anymore, but sometimes he does schlep all of his stuff up to LA for a brunch appearance here and there.
he's versatile, but his most of his art looks a lot like the work of frank moore, a surrealist painter. moore's work very much belongs to its context (1980s/90s new york, during the AIDS crisis), but aesthetically it's what leo's stuff looks like (examples 1, 2). leo prefers to work on a big scale, sometimes on floor-to-ceiling canvases that he needs ladders to properly work on. he rents a two-bedroom in ocean crest even if it's just him in there, and uses the other room for his work.
leo's a tote bag boy. he buys tote bags if he likes their designs, to commemorate visits to places, to support local businesses, whatever. he's actually pretty anal about his apartment, as he's worked hard to make it really beautiful, but the only things that don't have a place are his tote bags. they're just sort of strewn everywhere, hanging off of every doorknob and thrown over the backs of chairs.
also a huge plant mom. he's a little bit of an encyclopedia when it comes to them, actually. they're in every window, hanging from hooks on the ceiling, there are little ones on his desk, etc... he has an app that's specifically for notifying him about watering schedules, but he barely even needs it at this point
his cat (who looks like harris's real life cat alskjdflkj), is named robert after the artist robert rauschenberg, but leo just calls him bob. he's the laziest, most low-maintenance cat of all time, and his favorite place to sleep is right on top of leo's chest.
he used to change the look of his hair pretty frequently, but then he got a talking to from the (boring) principal of AB high school who told him color in his hair was unprofessional. it's a pretty standard length and not dyed at the moment, but he really wants to do something insane again soon to give his boss the finger
he's the kind of teacher who is a friend first and a professional second, which sometimes doesn't work out for him but has been mostly okay so far. he's certified to teach, but he doesn't actually know what he's doing most of the time. his only concerns are if the kids are having fun and if at least a few of them walk away every year liking art more they did when they walked in. but his students love him; he's that one teacher who they actually want to eat lunch with
while he was working on his teaching certifications, he worked at driftwood as a barista and is now quite annoying about his coffee. he actually got to take home an espresso machine they were cycling out once, and he uses it at least twice a day. he's got a whole obnoxious set up, but it's really worked for him in the past with people who've stayed the night and woken up to a really nice cup of coffee
he's got nineteen tattoos, pretty much all on his arms but one on his sternum. they're a patchwork for sure, and definitely don't have a thematic or stylistic through line because he got his first when he was eighteen and he wasn't thinking about uniformity at all (that first one is a simple outline of michigan — incredibly basic but he still loves it). he doesn't think too deeply about his tattoos, what looks cool looks cool. if it has some sort of deeper meaning, that's awesome, but he's not concerned about making them all have mean something
leo doesn't do much traditional reading, but he does listen to a lot of audiobooks. the libby app is his best friend because he refuses to pay for them (but feels good about supporting his local library), and he gets genuinely excited when his turn to rent a book finally comes up after weeks of waiting
he wears at least six rings every day and a bunch of stacking necklaces, exclusively silver. he cycles through a ton that he's picked up over the years at flea markets and vintage stores.
he was a competitive swimmer throughout childhood and could've been really good, but he never really put his mind to it and chose to focus on art instead. he still likes to do it, though, and you can usually catch him at the beach most mornings if the water's good
more to be added!
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Source: the Bay Area Reporter, 20 July 2000
There was a time when the future of the musical theater looked like Les Miserables. Now it‘s starting to look like nostalgia.
This standard bearer for the humorless quasi-operatic epic is back in San Francisco after a seven-year hiatus, like a visit from an old friend who isn’t quite as fascinating as you once thought. The touring production at the Curran Theatre is a perfectly respectable affair, but emotional connections have given way to cordial appreciations.
Victor Hugo’s sprawling novel is recounted in the broadest of strokes, like a phonebook sized issue of the old Classics Illustrated Comics. But watching how the musical manages to coherently communicate such an expanse of storytelling becomes part of the entertainment.
Originally created as an outdoor spectacle for a Paris sports arena, Claude-Michel Schonberg and Alain Boublil’s sung-through adaptation of Hugo was massaged into a more traditional theatrical format by directors John Caird and Trevor Nunn. Even if the ubiquitous turntable and the other devices they employed are beginning to seem a little yellowed at the edges, the economy and grace with which the story is told remains an impressive sight.
The backbone of the show is Schonberg’s music that manages to lace battle hymns, lullabies, and personal anthems with a contemporary edge that doesn’t sound anachronistic. The music sounds important, but possesses a repetitive simplicity that makes it accessible in the moment and less interesting in the long run. The English lyrics that Herbert Kretzmer based on Boublil’s French originals can fall into simplistic rhymes and unexpected phrases like “What’s up?” but they fill the large emotional outlines set by the music.
This is not a stripped-down production at the Curran, but a faithful replica of what’s been playing on Broadway for 14 years. The cast is a spirited, talented group that shows few signs of road fatigue. The sound, though, was often out of balance at a performance well into the Curran run.
Ivan Rutherford as the noble Jean Valjean, Graham Rowat (subbing for Stephen Bishop) as the obsessed Inspector Javert, Joan Almedilla as the godforsaken Fantine, Aymee Garcia and JP. Dougherty as the comically sinister Thernadiers, and Diana Kaarina as their pitiful daughter Eponine all impressively inhabit their characters. But as the young hero Marius, Tim Howar can get lost in the crowd, and as his beloved Cosette, Regan Thiel comes up short with a lightweight voice and personality.
Like all successes, Les Miserables was in sync with its times. But classics are in sync with all times. Victor Hugo’s novel is a classic. Its musical counterpart seems increasingly unlikely to become one as well.
Les Miserables will run at the Curran Theatre through Sept. 16.
Tickets are $17-$77. Call 512-7770.
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Meet the Band: Juniper Honey!
Hey blawgers! I’m DJ Penny Lane and this is my first interview in a series I have named “Meet the Band,” where I interview musicians so you can get to know their musical style and background.
My first band here on this series is Juniper Honey, a Southern California indie-rock band. The band is composed of four members, Josh West (bass), Donovan Hess (drums), Jake Hesse (vocals and guitar), and Cason LeSueur (guitar). The band started with two members, Hesse and Hess, departing from their high school band to embark on a new musical journey, eventually teaming up with West and LeSueur to form Juniper Honey. Through creating their own image, I asked if they draw inspiration from other bands, collectively the band landed on more classic bands like the Beatles. However they aren’t exactly striving for one style, as West talks about how, “A lot of us have a very broad variety of tastes, getting influenced by each other[band members] and by other bands pretty much every week.” To add on, Hesse also explains how the band brings “different musical backgrounds, but at the end of the day all of it melts together.” It’s an advantage that each of the members can contribute a different musical influence to the band, opening up a gateway of ideas when creating and sharing their music.
I am always invested in a band's creative process while inventing their music and sounds, so I asked how Juniper Honey works on theirs. “I think we all do a really great job at bringing in our individual elements to the table and hashing things out. We’re also good at giving each other feedback to help build off all of our ideas,” LeSueur answers. I asked if they ever sit down together and have creative writing sessions, and to that Hesse answers, “That’s what everyone hopes happens, but in most cases the more natural thing starts with someone in their bedroom with a guitar and they come up with something. It usually comes to the rest of the band in a very early, raw stage, so it still feels like it’s written from scratch.” West builds off of this with, “That early form could be something like the lyrics, the melody, or a simple chord structure, but then it completely takes its shape after we can all have a stab at it and start adding elements that are us along with the input we share on it.”
While Juniper Honey's performances have been somewhat spread out due to all the band members still attending school, Hesse explains how their current group of shows “has definitely felt like more of a tour.” As they transition from occasional gigs to securing more committed performances, I had to ask them whether they aspire to further pursue music. “I’d love to play some festivals,” remarks Hess regarding some long term goals for the band. “We’re definitely trying to give it all we got,” West adds. “The goal and what we’re shooting for is to continue what we're doing and see where the music takes us. We’ve seen a lot of growth over the last year, and I’m excited to see what these next years will hold.” I caught up with the band midway through their tour, and their standout memory thus far is a show they played at the Brick and Mortar in San Francisco a few weeks back. "We made a lot of cool friends along the way,” West comments, “and I feel like we all delivered a really great performance." Overall, the band receives lots of encouragement from their shows having such great turnouts in cities they didn’t expect. Hesse explains how, “Our expectations are naturally low, so we're pretty surprised when we find ourselves in a place where there are people we’ve never met, yet they know to come see us.” This positive reception fuels their passion and motivates them to continue pursuing their musical endeavors with greater determination.
The last question I asked the band was inspired by the movie Almost Famous, as the last question of the movie ends with the main character being asked,“What do you love about music?” Here are there answers:
Josh West: “I am always captivated by the emotions that music can evoke. Different types of music, different songs, different lyrics can all bring certain memories and emotions into my head. It blows my mind.”
Donovan Hess: “From the listeners perspective I would have to agree with Josh. But from a performance perspective, I’d say I love seeing the transition from playing shows in highschool where all of our friends are having a good time to seeing all of these new people having a good experience with our music. It’s cool to see how happy you can make some people even though you wouldn’t think our music can make this big of an impact on a person.”
Jake Hesse: “What I love about music is the bond that is created from such a simple thing. It can be on so many different levels and look so many different ways. Whether it’s my dad and I bonding over a song, or being at a concert and bonding with complete strangers and feeling so together. I think there’s a beautiful power to music because it’s one of those few things that can make you feel like you can escape and be anywhere except for that one moment.”
Cason LeSueur: “My favorite thing is probably how expressive music is and can make you feel. Whether it’s lyrically or musically you can feel the intimacy from a listener perspective or creator perspective, providing a super connected experience.”
It's been a pleasure delving into the world of Juniper Honey, and I'm excited to see where their musical journey takes them next. To all the readers, keep an eye out for Juniper Honey's upcoming performances and go listen to their music!
DJ Penny Lane
Meet The Band
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