Tumgik
#maybe I’m just thirsty for some Martha redemption
all-mirth-no-matter · 6 months
Text
So I pretty consistently watched DW through Nine, Ten, and Eleven. I started watching Twelve, and then fell off like near the end of his first season. Then I watched a few episodes with Twelve and Bill, but again fell off. Then watched almost all of Thirteen’s first season except the last special, then jumped back in and watched her last two episodes in prep for these 60th specials.
And really, I’ve always wanted to go back through and watch the whole thing. Even back through Eleven’s since aside from a few episodes I pretty much only ran through his seasons once. But obviously motivation hasn’t been there for me to sit down and do it, and I kind of found all the little bits that I’ve learned through the years about the Gallifrey stuff a little daunting to try and get my head ready to wrap around.
Here’s the thing though. Fourteen’s emotional breakdown in this second special, talking about the Flux (which I have no idea what that’s about) and timeless child and idk even what else make me so want to go back and watch so badly, just so I can fully understand and appreciate these scenes and emotions.
And honestly I can’t think of a time I was watching a new regen’s season or special and thought that.
One of the aspects of the regens (especially when it’s a new show runner) that I’ve always been a little sad over is that there’s very little reference to the Doctor(s) they were before, and especially the companions and events they went through. I get that they want to distinguish these new chapters as their own, and that the Doctor is not the same Doctor as they were before. But it just feels like such an amputation and makes me so sad.
Like don’t get me wrong, I’m over the moon that David specifically is back to have this adventure with Donna. But it would just make me swoon to see another of the Doctor’s faces speak with the same love for their former companions. Another example of this is in Thirteen’s last episode with the classic companions, we just got a bite of Thirteen’s face with them before it switched to their personal Doctor’s faces (which again, I’m more excited as a fan watching knowing these are actors who are so excited to work together again and that we’re so lucky to still have these actors appearing, than as a follower of the story seeing the current Doctor with their old friends).
Anyway, that’s not my point here. My point is that the carry over of story and influence of previous Doctor(s) emotions/thoughts/feelings is something that I adore and it motivates me to go back and learn more and get the whole story. Because if RTD is giving us this for just the specials, I look forward to his approach for the next Doctor and season so much!
11 notes · View notes
pivitor · 4 years
Text
My Top 10 Albums of 2019
2019 will go down, for me, as the year my beloved iPod died, and I finally bit the bullet and signed up for Spotify Premium. Thus, I listened to more new music in 2019 than I ever have before, and realized how much of it I found disposable. Bands I grew up loving put out mediocre efforts, new darlings grew in directions I wasn’t interested in following, but thank god, thank god there are still plenty of terrific musicians putting out work that resonates deep within my soul. Music is subjective, so I wouldn’t dare call this a “best of” list, but below are the ten new releases of 2019 that I listened to the most, vibed with the most, that just plain ol’ meant the most to me this year.
(PS: Don’t think too much about the exact order and ranking here. It changed multiple times even as I was writing this. What really matters is that all ten of these records rule)
10. Radar State -- Strays
Radar State are the Avengers of the early 2000s mid-west emo scene -- a band combining The Get Up Kids’ Matt Pryor and Jim Suptic, The Anniversary’s Josh Berwanger, and The Architects’ Adam Phillips into a single supergroup. Pryor has described the project as “just having fun with [his] friends,” and that dynamic shines through loud and clear in Strays. It’s like each member is pushing the next to just create the catchiest song they possibly can, and the competition leads to great results; Pryor favors fast and sloppy punk and Berwanger moody earworms that fuse themselves into your brain through sheer repetition, but it’s Suptic who fulfills that edict best with his shiny, addictive pop love songs. Radar State never quite hits the emotional highs of its members’ main projects, but that was never the point in the first place; Strays is just fun from front to back, and it’s an album I’ve returned to consistently throughout the entirety of 2019.
Highlights: Making Me Feel, Self-Hurt Guru, Artificial Love
9. The Early November -- Lilac
Lilac is an album about learning from your mistakes and making a conscious choice to be better, and it’s a theme, an ethos that truly defines this release on every level. The Early November originally planned to release Lilac back in 2018, but ended up scrapping the original recording and going back to the drawing board, knowing that they could do better, and funneling that ambition, all their lessons learned, into their most ambitious release outside of The Mother, The Maker, and the Path (“but less self-indulgent,” I say with love). Horns, piano, and a wide variety of tempos spice up the proceedings, and the lyrics are more raw and honest than ever, but Lilac’s greatest weapon is the vocals, which Ace Enders wields with virtuoso skill. He plays with different cadences and deliveries, giving every song a unique feel, moving from soft and pleasant (“Perfect Sphere [Bubble]”) to menacing (“My Weakness”), from the joy of “Ave Maria” to the cathartic, powerhouse vocal explosion of “Hit By A Car (Euphoria)” to the pure, crackling, barely contained emotional breakdown threatening to burst right out of the chorus of “Our Choice.” There’s no other vocalist out there quite like Ace Enders -- and no other record quite like Lilac.
Highlights: Hit By A Car (In Euphoria), Ave Maria, Comatose
8. Magazine Beach -- Sick Day (EP)
Most year-end lists probably overlooked this record, a debut four-song EP from a small DIY band released in mid-December, and man oh man are those critics missing out. Sick Day isn’t just the biggest and best musical surprise I received all year, but quite possibly the most fun I had listening to music in 2019. Seriously, I played this on loop probably two dozen times the day I discovered it, and spent that evening forcing friends to listen to it too. Magazine Beach’s tongue-in-cheek lyrics, gonzo riffs, and stunning background harmonies are combined with vocals whose flatter, sardonic tone initially masks, but soon reveals their perfect cadence and quick crackles of emotion; they’re as close to a perfect pop-punk package as I heard all year, with their quirky, relatable songs about flaky friends, overstuffed social calendars, and other mid-twenties challenges filling that gaping Modern-Baseball-You’re-Gonna-Miss-It-All-shaped hole in my heart. If this had released earlier in the year, and I’d had more time to see how long it truly stuck with me, it might have placed far, far higher on this list, but either way I look forward to carrying this album forward with me into 2020, and I look forward to following Magazine Beach’s future career closely. I think they could go places.
Highlight: Living Room
7. Masked Intruder -- III
It’s easy to look at Masked Intruder and think that they’re more of an act than a band, just because they’re so good at playing hardened-yet-harmless criminals on stage, at enchanting an audience with their antics and banter alone. Thankfully, they’re equally skilled as musicians as they are performers; III isn’t just quick content for their live shows, but an entertaining, addictive, artfully made pop-punk record in its own right. Okay, maybe pop-punk is a bit too restrictive a descripter -- between the doo-wop, call-and-response harmonies and the raging riffs and solos, III sometimes sounds like a modern spin on sixties rock and roll, which is something I did not know I needed but absolutely needed. The lyrics never break kayfabe, but there’s some real clever stuff going on beneath the surface of these silly crime-themed love songs; contrasting the creepiness of Blue’s romantic pursuits with the shenanigans of a typical radio love song shows how few differences there actually are between the two, how creepy the entire genre is when you stop to give it any thought. It’s thoughtful and subversive without ever being preachy, just one more spinning plate kept perfectly balanced in the act that is III.
Highlights: Not Fair, Maybe Even, I’m Free (At Last)
6. Martha -- Love Keeps Kicking
Martha’s secret weapon is the empathy and compassion their songs cultivate for their subjects. Love Keeps Kicking is an album largely about the way love can kick you when you’re down, yet throughout the album Martha never villainizes even the bad actors in relationships. “Into This” finds the narrator jerked around by a potential partner who just won’t clarify what they are to each other, but the song isn’t out to attack the partner, simply to get a solid answer. Likewise, “Love Keeps Kicking” lays out a myriad of detailed complaints about romance and relationships, not to insult, but simply to find a way to endure them. “Orange Juice” rues the way the narrator diluted their partner just by being with them, showing impressive (and heartbreaking) levels of self-awareness. That kind of emotional maturity and complexity makes the true love songs (“Sight For Sore Eyes,” “Wrestlemania VIII”) all the more joyous, and makes their social commentary (“Mini Was A Preteen Arsonist”) that much more effective. Martha are a wonderfully catchy, fun band filled with great harmonies and British twang, but it’s their earnest, compassionate storytelling that truly made me fall in love with them, and with Love Keeps Kicking.
Highlights: Wrestlemania VIII, Love Keeps Kicking, Orange Juice
5. Aaron West and the Roaring Twenties -- Routine Maintenance
Hot take (?) incoming: Dan Campbell is the best songwriter of our generation. I already sang his praises pretty thoroughly last year when discussing my favorite album of 2018, but Routine Maintenance is just further proof of this truth, almost Campbell flexing. The previous Aaron West record was a character study of the worst year of a man’s life, but Routine Maintenance expands Aaron’s world in terms of scope, characters, and themes, all to the project’s (and character’s) benefit. The record is a tale of redemption, taking Aaron from rock bottom to a new place of security, all through the power of friendship and community, the power of music, and the power of family, of fulfilling your responsibilities to them, of finding your role and your home wherever you are, with the people who care about you, with people you can make proud. They’re themes Campbell has been exploring throughout his entire career, but brought down to a more personal level, and somehow that makes them hit harder than ever, perhaps because it makes the way they can fit into any listener’s life that much clearer. I’ve cried listening to this album. I’ve cried hearing these songs live. There’s true, true catharsis on Routine Maintenance, and it’s because Campbell’s taken Aaron West on a real journey, and it’s one I feel blessed to have been able to follow.
Highlights: Runnin’ Toward the Light, Rosa & Reseda, Winter Coats
4. Pkew Pkew Pkew -- Optimal Lifestyles
Pkew Pkew Pkew’s 2016 self-titled debut was an album told solely in the present tense, not worried about the future, but simply about the drinks, pizza, skateboarding, and parties to be had right here, right now. It was a blisteringly fun, gang-vocals filled powerhouse of a record that solidified Pkew Pkew Pkew as one of my new favorite bands. Optimal Lifestyles, though, is an album that has started to look back, if only to question the present. Are they still content to be these same fun-loving, hard-drinking party guys? Ultimately, as proven by lyrics such as “Shred until you’re dead, or until you break your wrist again” and “We lead thirsty little lives, and all we want’s another,” the answer they come to is a resounding “yes,” but the journey they take to find that answer not only makes it feel earned, but opens Pkew Pkew Pkew to some exciting new songwriting avenues, be it the touching introspection of “Drinkin’ Days” or the surprisingly beautiful nostalgia of “Everything’s the Same” (or even the more raucous nostalgia of “Mt. Alb,” for that matter). Don’t let words like “introspection” and “beautiful” scare you, though -- The Boys still rock as hard as ever, as the wailing, chugging guitars and even a totally rockin’ saxophone solo fully attest to (though I do miss all the gang vocals). And I’d be remiss to not mention “I Wanna See A Wolf,” an absolute songwriting clinic. In only a minute and nineteen seconds, Pkew Pkew Pkew takes a simple statement -- “I wanna see a wolf” -- and unravels it until it reveals a song about longing for freedom from the careers that cage our lives, even when they’re our dream. I don’t know if Pkew Pkew Pkew could have written this song three years ago. Talk about growth.
Highlights: I Wanna See A Wolf, Point Break, Adult Party
3. The Get Up Kids -- Problems
After their most popular record -- 1999’s Something To Write Home About -- the Get Up Kids’ next three albums all went on to be incredibly divisive among their fans. While all three records showed significant creative growth, none really sounded like what came before (personally, I very much enjoyed two of those records -- sorry, There Are Rules -- but I guess I’m not most fans). Problems, though, sounds like the natural evolution of Something To Write Home About without ever feeling derivative of it -- it sounds more like “the Get Up Kids” than anything the Get Up Kids have released in over a decade, which is an incredibly exciting thing let me tell you. Yet, Problems still benefits from everything the band has learned in that time: there’s new introspection (“The Problem Is Me”), a wider storytelling scope (“Lou Barlow”), and a shift from wallowing in their own pain to examining the pain of others (“Satellite,” which Matt Pryor has said is based on one of his sons). Problems also manages to pack in absolute bangers like “Fairweather Friends,” sensitive, tender ballads like “The Advocate,” and mid-tempo jams like “Salina,” a guaranteed future Emo classic that threatens to dethrone the Kids’ own “Central Standard Time” as The Quintessential Emo Song. Problems is the synthesis of just about everything that has ever made the Get Up Kids special, and it not only makes for one of the year’s best albums, but one of the Get Up Kids’ best as well.
Highlights: Fairweather Friends, Lou Barlow, Salina
2. PUP -- Morbid Stuff
The A-Side of Morbid Stuff is perfect -- a legitimately flawless five song stretch of punk rock that continues to blow my mind almost ten months after its release. The unmistakable opening notes of “Morbid Stuff”; that irresistible background riff from the bridge returning in “Kids’” second chorus, combined with some of the most nihilisticly romantic lyrics I’ve ever heard; the raucous sing-along that is “Free At Last”; the purest, most undiluted diss-track of the year in “See You At Your Funeral”; and, finally, the best song of the year bar none, “Scorpion Hill,” a sonic journey through multiple musical genres, telling a story of uniquely American misery that legitimately moves me to tears. The B-Side doesn’t quite live up to these first five tracks -- there’s a couple stand-outs (“Bare Hands” needs to make it into a live set pronto), a couple songs more interesting in concept than execution (sorry, “Full Blown Meltdown”), and a few more perfectly fine, standard PUP tunes (and I swear I don’t mean that as an insult!) -- but, well, how could it ever really have anyway? All together, it still makes for an outrageously enjoyable album that reaches the upper echelons of what 2019’s new music had to offer. That PUP was not only such a terrific band right out of the gate, but has remained so this far into their career, makes me so, so happy.
Highlights: Scorpion Hill, Kids, Free At Last
1. The Menzingers -- Hello Exile
It took me a few listens -- and, truthfully, seeing it played live -- to truly crack this album. At first it was a bit too slow, the vocals a bit too filtered, but once it clicked, I lived and breathed Hello Exile and nothing else for months. The slightly slower pace gives the Menzingers a chance to play around with some new musical tricks, be it the back-and-forth opening or the fun background guitar melodies of “Strangers Forever” or the almost hypnotic vocal melodies in the choruses of “Portland” or “Hello Exile,” and they pay off with great effect. Lyrically the Menzingers are at the top of their game; tracks like “High School Friend” and “Strain Your Memory” are more adept than ever at painting stories that make you nostalgic for a life you never even lived, but absolutely feel like you have, and lines like “it only hurts til’ it doesn’t” hit your heart with sniper-like precision. “Anna” may be the quintessential Menzingers song, a tale of longing, love, and location that drove the entire scene into a frenzy that still hasn’t subsided. “Farewell Youth” is the best closing track the Menzingers have ever released, a song about grief in multiple forms that manages to find poignant takes on each and every one of them. I’m not yet sure whether Hello Exile is the beginning or the end of a chapter for the Menzingers, but either way, it’s clearly an essential and unmissable part of their story, and one I feel privileged to be able to experience.
Highlights: Anna, Strangers Forever, Farewell Youth
14 notes · View notes