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kaialawson · 3 months

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hello everyone! i'm linny (he/him, 26, est) and i'll be playing kaia here, as well as @teddysmusings! i'm a little tardy to the party, but i'm here and i'm super excited to get to get to know everyone and their muses. underneath the cut you'll find all of kaia's background information, stats, and some connection ideas! if you're interested in plotting, just drop a like and i'll shoot you a message!

B A S I C S

full name: kaia lawson. nicknames: tbd. gender: cis woman. pronouns: she/her. sexuality: pansexual. age: 28 date of birth: june 1st, 1995. zodiac sign: gemini. birthplace: the bronx, new york. current location: jongno, seoul, south korea. residence: high rise penthouse. occupation: former singer-songwriter / current vocal coach. languages spoken: english, korean.

A P P E A R A N C E

faceclaim: ryan destiny height: 5’5. build: lean and toned. eyes: brown. hair: naturally dark brunette. piercings: standard earlobe piercings. tattoos: a cherry blossom branch running along her forearm and wrist. other distinguishing features: smile. style: trendy, appears to be casual but is usually found wearing designer.

P E R S O N A L I T Y

traits: (+) intelligent, honest, determined, dedicated , loyal. (-) picky, temperamental, bitter, easily angered , unforgiving. mental health: anxiety; medicated. depression; medicated physical health: good. likes: music, video games, spicy foods, bratz dolls, live concerts, wine, smoking marijuana. dislikes: being antagonized, people who don't respect boundaries, avocados, crowded spaces, groups of people that take up the whole sidewalk, being forced to introduce herself, being in the spotlight, being lied to, being told what to do, mint chocolate chip ice cream. fears: losing her autonomy. phobias: snakes. hobbies: singing, teaching other people how to sing, crocheting, reading. skills: crocheting, singing, songwriting, jumping rope / double dutch, computer savvy. quirks: cracking her knuckles when irritated, avoiding eye contact when feeling shy or nervous, rolling her eyes.

F A V O R I T E S

ice cream flavour: cookies & cream. time of the day / night: late night. weather: summer weather. breakfast food: waffles, cereal, yogurt. dinner food: jerk chicken, beef patties, pasta, rice. colours: lots of darker, muted colors. music: nola adé, adele, fka twigs, kehlani, lady gaga, solange, yebba, paramore, hozier, ed sheeran, nirvana, beyoncé, megan thee stallion, sza, samara joy, flo milli, kendrick lamar.

M I S C E L A N E O U S

a cherished item: her maternal grandmother's locket. first love ( celeb crush ): rider strong, circa boy meets world / ciara usual mood: neutral. 1 thing they want to do / experience before they die: visit her father's grave.

B I O

childhood & adolescence: kaia grew up with a single mother in the bronx. her father, whom her mother didn't really speak about often, passed away just months before she was born. from a young age, it was quite difficult for her to deal with the fact that she grew up without a dad. she absolutely adored her mother, but being teased by other children for not having both parents in her life caused her a lot of inner turmoil. it didn't help that she was a rather awkward looking child - as most people go through their ugly duckling stages. despite being a shy, introverted girl, kaia had a very short tempered fuse - a trait that she inherited from her mother. her peers assumed that her quiet demeanor would make her an easy target for bullying, but she quickly proved them wrong after getting into a scuffle here and there; scuffles where she primarily came out on top.

her mother, tired of being called to her school for her fighting bullies, decided that she needed to redirect her short fuse into another avenue; which was when she introduced a ten year old kaia to music. her mother was an amateur musician in her youth, but retired and laid her music dreams to rest when she got pregnant with kaia. it became quite obvious that the music gene was passed onto her, because she took to it like a fish takes to water and fell in love with the art of music.

by the time she was fifteen years old, kaia had somehow landed herself a record deal and was placed in the lineup of america's next big girl group - KYC; the acronym standing for kaia, yolanda and carrie. three young girls with big voices. they took the country, and the world, by storm and became pop-r&b sensations by the time kaia was eighteen years old. and if she were being honest, she couldn't deny the fact that she loved it. she loved the fame and fortune that came along with being a singer, and she knew that the feeling would never die down or go away.

early & mid twenties: KYC lasted for five years before the trio decided to part ways in order to pursue their own artistic avenues. yolanda became a producer and did behind the scenes work. carrie became an actress. and kaia? she continued on the music path, debuting as a soloist and pushing her fame to the next level. awards, accolades and other accomplishments began swarming in, and for quite some time she loved it. she loved performing, giving her all to music and pleasing her fans as well as the general public. that is until she began to realize what a toll it was taking on her mental health and psyche. always being followed, never having a moment to herself, always having to live up to everyone's expectations. it was tiring and mentally draining. by the time she was twenty five and released her fifth solo album (her label had been working her like a dog, pushing her to release something at least once a year), she was done. she didn't want the fame anymore. she had experienced it, basked in it, and was over it. ten years of being in the spotlight was more than enough for her. she released her sixth album, her farewell album, on her twenty sixth birthday and hasn't looked back since.

current day: kaia has been living in south korea for two years now. after moving to the country for a change of scenery and to be closer to her cousin, tasha, kaia's been happier, healthier and calmer. gone are her anxiety attacks and worries of public scrutiny. while she still does get a little attention here and there, as well as occasionally being photographed or asked for a selfie or autograph by fans who recognize her, she's living a rather quiet and unassuming life in south korea. she's landed a job as the head vocal coach at canvas labs and enjoys her work there. although she can be a bit of a hard ass and very tough on the idols when it comes to their vocal training, it's only because she takes singing very seriously and wants them to be the best that they can be - and she doesn't want their poor vocal skills to reflect badly on her.

C O N N E C T I O N S

ex ( multiple ): kaia has had a few significant others in her life; some of them she parted with on friendly terms, others not so friendly.

fwb ( multiple ): self explanatory.

true friends ( multiple ): people that are actually friends with kaia because of who she is, not who she used to be.

music mentee: this person is interested in picking up a few music lessons and vocal coaching, and kaia can't help but give them a helping hand.

best friend / platonic soulmate: self explanatory.

gaming buddy ( multiple ): self explanatory.

sense of calm: one of the few people that can calm kaia down when her short fuse explodes.

sibling figure: kaia has taken this person under their wing as a younger sibling of sorts. she dotes on them, fusses over them and overall just babies them.

instigator: this person loves to push kaia's buttons until she bites back, because they love seeing how feisty she gets.

note: if you can't find anything to your liking here, we can always brainstorm!

#jongno:hello #( kaia intro. )

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greenlikethesea · 1 year

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Max🛹for the stranger ask game!

stranger things ask game!

Max🛹: What are your top five songs right now?

ADRIAN!!!!

i love when people ask me this question because i get to inflict my horrible music taste on everyone. delicious. you get bonus commentary, because i cannot shut up.

Swim Good - Frank Ocean

this is not the first frank ocean song i ever heard -- that would be thinking 'bout you, which is a revelation in and of itself -- but there's something about the raw emotionality of this song that makes me feel absolutely insane. i have been in this place before, emotionally. raw and broken open in a way that you can't even articulate out loud, and you just drive. drive until you hit a place where you can't drive anymore. when i was in seattle, i drove to a park and went to a secluded beach and stripped to my underwear and just like. swam in this lake. because i felt so fucking lonely and desperate and needed the differential.

2. Wicked Love - Boulet Brothers

as many people know, i'm a dragula bitch. i'm pretty wary of drag music usually, because a lot of times it falls flat and people coast on personality rather than actual musical talent. but the root of alternative drag is music, and this has such a dark synth, clearly goth and industrial sound that's just so lovely to sink your teeth into. the way dracmorda and swanthula's voices mix together is also lovely -- you can tell who is who, but they also work well and complement each other. reveling in loving your undead lover! fuck yes!

3. tous les mêmes - Stromae

i've really been getting into stromae lately -- and yeah, i know i'm super late, whatever, i'm here now! everything about this particular track is so delightful: the arrangement with the big brass and the jumping beat, the lyrics, which even in translation are funny and thought provoking and clever, stromae's seamless slide between speaking and singing, a bit of a conversation with the subjects of the song. and the scrumptious gender fuckery of the video, with choreography! stromae's artistic direction is airtight and this is no exception to this.

4. You Can Call Me Al - Paul Simon

this is such a sentimental choice for me, but i find myself coming back to this song again and again. i look up to paul simon as a songwriter a lot, because i think he's really great at making the music speak to the lyrics and vice versa, which is something i strive to do. i love the contrast between the verses and the chorus here -- the verses are really self-doubtful and sort of cynical, but there's a whimsy to the chorus -- if you'll be my bodyguard, i can be your long lost pal. we can pretend to be different people, but i'll have you and you'll have me, even if i don't have myself.

5. Hard Times - Paramore

i was telling @friendship-switchblades, who i'm seeing paramore with in may, that every time i hear this song it's like the first time i'm hearing it. people were very divided on after laughter, and normally i'm diplomatic about stuff like that, but not with this album. it's objectively brilliant and fresh and they're finally making the music they want to make instead of being contained to the limited josh farro school of songwriting. we hadn't heard any new music from paramore in 4 years, and they came right out the gate with, "hi, i'm so fucking depressed. i can see you are as well. wanna dance about it?"

#asks

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blacklodgemusictx · 11 months

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The thing about plans is: they necessitate optimism. You have to assume the world will keep turning for long enough to get to the plans in... The Future.

Three months ago, I went, "We should see the Pool Kids"... in Ohio! Somehow it made sense to fly 1200 miles to see them on a Thursday versus the normal hoops I have to jump through to see any band here in Texas (Austin and Denton are a Tuesday and a Wednesday. Any time I see a show in Texas, due to the fact that I live nowhere anyone would ever want to come on purpose, there is always extra time off to be requested for drive time -- 3ish hours for Denton, 4 hrs one way for Austin).

"Good Girls Go to Heaven, Bad Girls Go on Tour" also represents the Pool Kids' first foray out on the world as... headliners (starry eyes.)

I didn't write about the Pool Kids back in March. I should have. It would be a lot easier now to describe what they mean to me if I had.

The Pool Kids are a delightful anomaly in my own history. I discovered them 100% on my own. No outside influence what so ever. Doug and I simply lamented one night in late 2018/early 2019 that we really needed to find something closer by to do. Maybe something is happening close by and we don't even know it! Something that won't require... taking off time from WORK?! So I got on Spotify and searched for bands touring nearby -- within a 100 mile radius (Dallas is 186 miles). I looked at the results: someone called the Pool Kids. In San Angelo. 91 miles!!

They were the *only* band not wearing cowboy hats in their profile picture.

They're new (at the time) album was called "Music to Practice Safe Sex To." Ok. I put it on for a listen. Girl singer. Ugh. Not my thing. But anything to block out the random bullshit background noise in my office. I play it through. Eh. Doesn't Grab me.

Oh well, it was worth a try.

But time passes... brain says, "lizzz.... lizzz listen to that album again... lizzzz" Yes, brain, I do as you command.

And it grabs me.

It grabs me hard.

And I *love* it. I don't know why. I'm big on understandable lyrics. And I can't say I understand half of what is being said. But the melodies are gorgeous. I get goosebumps. Whatever she's talking about it, it's sad... and contemplative. And angry ("I should rip your throat out for what you've done to me...") Her voice is low for the most part. Something I've only learned about myself recently is I tend toward listening to voices that sound closer to my own and I'm a contralto.

When I look in to the band, I'm told it's "math rock." I have no fucking clue what that means (musicians have explained it to me: Complex time signatures. Key changes. Sounds like a new definition of "prog" to me. Close, the musicians tell me, but not quite.) Whatever. Don't make me label a thing. And for sure if you tell me it's "math rock" and then assume I will like other kinds of "math rock" I will refuse on principle. I pride myself on being harder to define in my tastes than that.

The reality? My finger is placed squarely on it later. "oooOOOOooo I see!" Hayley Williams from Paramore acknowledges and gives them props at some point... *that's* it. They remind me of the Paramore appreciation I gleaned from my time as a too-old-to-admit-it-Twihard. Simple.

We absolutely go to the San Angelo gig. Doug and I are easily the oldest people there -- old enough to be these kids' parents easily. The "De Nada" is a artsy thrift store during the day. At night, they push the clothing racks and other offerings against the wall and become a venue.

There are somewhere in the neighborhood of three to five bands. They all sort of run together. The only one I remember is a band from New Orleans. The lead singer is wearing a ruffly shirt and I'm pretty sure he wants to be the Vampire LeStat when he grows up. He does weird acrobatics. Somersaults? Paints his face with red lipstick.

The Pool Kids wail.

I am floored. They are actually kids (something you must know about me is I've been approximately 200 years old since I was in high school... I would have acknowledged their youth even if they had been OLDER than me at that point.) But the amount of rock they bring is amazing, jaw dropping. Lead singer Christine, SHREADS, does that "up-on-the-neck tapping" guitar thing I only saw as a kid stealing glances at MTV when Mom wasn't around (baby cousin posted look out at the door... promptly and cheerfully narc'd on me for doing something I wasn't supposed to).

I have a couple videos from that night on YouTube. One example being:

youtube

We talk to them after. Doug wants to know about their influences. In the accidentally condescending way my brain works, since I’ve been 200 years old this whole time… I am interested to hear what they say. How do you cultivate that amount of raw power and instrument mastery at that age? The only thing I remember being mentioned was Pink Floyd.

Nice.

I come prepared. I cashed out my Christmas money before coming. Pretending to be a baller, I fan out the cash and buy as much of their merch as possible. It was $100, but the way all their eyes lit up, I felt important. And I loved it. I think Christine hugged me. I don’t really remember. I hope that got them lots of van gas and hot meals as they continued on their way… bringing the good news of rock to other points of the compass.

I was now flush with copies of their album. I sent one to Salim and one to Sue Harshe – a friend we made on a pilgrimage to see Scrawl (godmothers of riot grrl — look them up!) in Knoxville in 2015.

Fast forward…

Life changing time with Salim on the road Feb 2020… two last shows: Caroline’s Spine in Tulsa… And the Pool Kids in Houston. March 2020. On an impressive bill with the Wonder Years. Bigger! Poised for up up up bigger and better things.

Then the world ended.

But it got better….

(didn’t it?)

We saw them in Dallas this March at Amplified Live.

And I cried.

Not just a quiet trickle from the corner of my eye.

I cried hard. There they were. Rocking. Bigger and better. Christine working the crowd like a young Bono at Red Rocks. Coming in to herself. Coming into themselves as young rock gods. Master of the stage. Master of all they survey. I was just so in love with what I was seeing and hearing. So proud of them. So happy that we as humans were back. Able to watch a show like this and just be together again. Maybe everything would be ok after all.

I talked to Nicolette (complete bass domination — Doug commented much later that she seems to have the most fun performing on stage of anyone he’s ever seen… and his history as a fine appreciator of rock is ten years longer than mine) at the merch table later. Tried to get myself under control. Still had an embarrassing hitch in my throat. I have seen a LOT of good performances before, but none that have gotten that kind of response before.

She remembers me. I know not a huge amount of time has passed, but in their history and progression as a band and our progression as a now traumatized people… millennia has passed.

I am touched.

So now we are back up to current. They are headlining. Of course they are. They deserve every bit of this. Again I swell with pride though… I’ve backed a winning horse. This is rare. Usually when I love you, you break up (RIP People in Planes).

The deciding factor that made us pick Ohio though was two fold: first date of the tour and where it was: ACE OF CUPS. Ace of Cups was owned by the other half of Scrawl, Marcy Mays (what I didn’t know at the time was that Marcy no longer owns it as of the end of 2022.)

I Facebook squeal. Sue, I tag, can I take ANY sort of credit for this? She agrees that I can, but without elaboration. I don’t know if the credit comes in the fact that I just love them THAT much and have therefore done that “manifesting” thing I keep hearing about. I have WISHED this in to existence. In my happy mind movie though, back in 2019, Sue passes the album on to Marcy. Marcy agrees that they wail. Mentions as ownership of Ace of Cups passes from her, that the Pool Kids are really amazing and if they come by, you should totally get them. Pool Kids acquired.

Perhaps best to just enjoy my happy mind movies and not require further elaboration.

Back to present-present.

Flying always seems like such a doable thing until you (I) are there. I forgot my calm-down pills. The little white bits of magic that make the anxiety grey out for a few hours. There’s also that lull where you watch your airport gate fill up. Maybe *this* time the flight won’t be full.

It’s always full.

Leg one is to Atlanta. Short layover.

Text from Salim, “Can you talk at some point today?”

Literally, right now. This is the most available I will be all day.

So he calls. He’s had a health set back (read his Facebook… I never know what I’m allowed to talk about when it comes to other people.) Our trip that was on the books for the 07/21-07/27 with Rhett {Miller} is off. Off 100% sure? I am just trying to clarify for the purpose of undoing plans. But the voice that lives in my head and constantly tells me I’m an asshole pipes up. Way to make it about you. Jerk. He’s poorly and you are asking if the trip really, truly is off. That’s not what I meant. It’s never what I mean.

I am able to cancel all the hotels and get credit for the plane fare before we even line queue up for next boarding.

I have always had a sense for when something is meant to happen. I didn’t feel like this trip was a good idea. Salim is a big proponent for listening to the universe when it tells you something. I try to be too. We were all meant to stay here for now. I hate that he had to have something health related happen, but in the end… I think we will all realize we were supposed to stay home. Whether I get sick, or Doug, or one of the cats. Something will happen to make me go, “Oh. Here it is. I hear you, universe.” For Salim, I think his prescription is stillness. He is the most go-go-go person I know. He never stops swimming. Something wants him to stop swimming for right now.

This is ok. Seriously. I don’t mind and the only thing I am worried about is my friend.

So we board for hop to. Columbus. Our destination.

The flight is not bad. I feel optimistic. Maybe soon I will master my fear. Fly all the time like it’s not a big deal… maybe make an international jaunt before too long — an idea I’ve never entertained before.

We land at two-ish. Haven’t eaten. There’s a Bob Evans in our hotel’s parking lot. I’ve never been to a Bob Evans. It feels sort of like a Dennified Cracker Barrel. I don’t eat much. I drink even less (there’s that foreshadowing thing again).

We go back to our room and sleep. It’s good sleep. The bed is soft, but not too soft. We wake up at 6:30. Venue is a mile away. Doors at 7.

I primp a bit. No makeup this time. Though it’s easily 25 degrees cooler here than home and there are perceptible dark clouds that might mean a bit of rain if we behave ourselves. I could have worn makeup, but it doesn’t matter.

The venue… there’s that twinge in my chest again. It’s worse this time. But I am delighted. The stage is dark and light chevrons, the backdrop: red curtains. There’s a recognizable symbol on the wall (the thing that looks like an ant’s head with antennae on either side). This is what BLM would have looked like. We HAD the red curtains purchased — they are in our dining room now. The chevron design is a rug … that’s still rolled up in a corner and hasn’t been touched for a year now. Someone else is like me. They know. Again I don’t know if that was Marcy or the new owners and it doesn’t matter if I ask. It still exists. If I managed to walk any further back past the stage… there probably would’ve been owls. Schrodinger’s venue. By not exploring further, it contains all possibilities.

The first band is Chase Petra (the second is Sydney Sprague per the tour poster.) I didn’t look either up ahead of time. I have never given much credence to the idea that I could be influenced to love just by proximity to the band I came to see… but I instantly recognize this idea as false: I got Salim from being an opener. I got Jesse and Landon from Salim… sight unseen.

And I love them both.

Chase Petra is amazing. They are young and saucy. They have attitude. In keeping with the name of the tour, emphasis on “girls.” Chase Petra are 3/4 girl. And all power. The vibe is similar to the Pool Kids. A strong, young, shredding female vocalist, but the show stopper was the other guitarist. She was an eighties hair metal rock god reincarnate. All flying fingers and whipping hair.

It’s so FUCKING LOUD. The hair on my arms vibrates, my heart doesn’t know when to beat, my stomach vibrates.

I love them. The audience loves them too and shouts along with most of their songs.

Band two: Sydney Sprague. They are older. The bass player wears a neckerchief like Fred from Scooby Doo and commands a Moog in between bass slinging duties. The singer is all in black and reminds me of me. Same dark hair style and cut I kept in high school. She’s got a sweet voice, higher than the other girls on the bill. Their performance is a little more low key, but no less powerful. They are a fantastic, cohesive unit in total control of their art.

Someone further to my left up front has brought huge bunches of roses. One for each band. Chase Petra’s bunch lives on stage by their set list, Sydney receives hers like a beauty queen. All blushing and sweet thanks. “Fred” leans over and buries his nose in the bouquet for a moment.

Finally, the moment draws close. I am keenly aware that I am running out of time. I have spent energy enjoying the first two bands. I will pay for this. My spine continues to grind itself to sand, as I assume it will for the rest of my life. I have already remarked that it’s “hot in here.” Liz, it’s not, Doug says. Not good. I’ve had a total of maybe 4 ounces to drink today. All in the name of easier travel.

I’ve taken small moments in between each band to sit on the edge of the stage. I know I will eventually hinder something to do with the bands and their myriad cables and plugs, or the imposing young doorman with the impressive afro will come along and tell me to get up.

Neither.

It’s Nicolette the lovely bass player again. “Excuse me, I have to get in here,” I was sitting on a blank plate that ended up covering electrical sockets. I touch her shoulder. She looks at me. Ah, there’s the recognition. She’s glad to see me.

She puts out the setlist. I’m excited. But filled with dread. I have to last this long. I have to fight my own body for 12 songs and I’m already flagging… but it’s starting and I can’t think about it now.

Their entrance music is… “Sandstorm” and I’m dying. I’m ready to rave. But the music stops abruptly. Starts again. But the moment is gone. Oh well. They tried.

Christine is wearing white platform go go boots, short skirt, fishnets, midi top. Nicolette has an equally short skirt, neckerchief too, but there’s nothing Scooby Doo about hers. I don’t know where to look. I don’t know what I’m supposed to think. They look amazing. Someone on TikTok later declares, “Their fits!!!” Fits… ‘fits… outfits? That has to be it. Woman have been weaponizing their sexuality since woman were admitted to the boys club that is rock music. Courtney Love’s ripped baby doll dresses and bruised innocence, L7 and… throwing… stuff… on stage, performing in bikinis, performing in too little, too much. Anything open for interpretation and therefore derision or scorn. But sexualizing is not cool anymore. I don’t know what kind of commentary I am allowed on this subject, but I am left echoing the same cry, “their fits!!” Their oufits, they are “fit”, they are there and raw and breathtakingly sexual and powerful. You don’t stare at the sun either, but you’ve done it. You’ve dared.

I also have a revelation. Role models. These people are amazing, iconic. I take a moment to bless the proliferation of media I’ve cursed in past. If I had access to these kinds of strong female role models as a teen, my life would have been completely different. I wouldn’t have let my mother’s flat declaration, “You aren’t good at music. PICK SOMETHING ELSE.” Turn me from my fated course.

It makes me happy that social media is exposing young people to bands like the ones on this bill. There’s hope for the future.

They open with “Swallow,” one of the songs on my revised Ketamine playlist. There’s a bit of treated vocal that is the absolutely definition of why music is good. Music should give you that thrill like sticking your head out of the window of a moving car. That drop in your stomach. Momentary breathlessness.

Can’t put my finger on it Don’t know what makes it so appealing I’m not begging for your affection I’m just addicted to the feeling…

Two songs in. Time for the third. How many people here were around for our first album – Music to Practice Safe Sex to? ME!! MEEEEeeeeeEEEE…. I scream. You can hear it on the video. I should be embarrassed. I’m too old to be reacting like this. But I got such a late start…

The music doesn’t know the social constructs of age or sex… it just knows what feels good.

The “Safe Sex” portion of the show is two songs long. This makes me sad. You never forget the album you came in on. It’s a much more forlorn sounding album though. I know from Salim that the forlorn ones don’t get people dancing. But “Patterns,” ah… I would have lost my mind for “Patterns.”

And I spent one too many nights banging my head against the wall to hear another voice telling me that I’m doing something wrong So excommunicate me You’re no better than the fucked up doctrine that sent me running to your doorstep in the first place

Fucked up doctrine. My youth is fucked up doctrine. My memories are tainted by it. I still wonder how they can wield so much word power at such a young age, but then again these struggles are as old as the generations. As long as their have been the elder and the younger, the subjugator and the subjugated, rulers, oppressed, one group will chafe against the other. It hurts the heart, grinds down the soul… but it makes the music amazing.

We make art, music, poetry, to feel hope.

I make it almost to the end… almost… Talk Too Much: Christine does the young Bono thing and goes out in to the crowd. Several times a mini mosh pit has broken out right where she is. At some point, someone flicks beer on us… at least I hope it was beer. Ugh. I am done. The anesthetized feeling starts in my finger tips.

I am going to pass out.

I mouth to Doug, “I have to go. NOW.” I head for the stool previously occupied by the imposing young doorman. I lay my head on the counter for a second. I wait to be booted off. I’ve been doing this for years. I’ve passed out, tried to pass out, and all stages in between for years, in myriad venues in cities all across the US. I like to be in the front. My constitution takes issue with this. But I do it anyway.

I try to gesture to Doug: thumb at my lips, fingers curved around an invisible cup. Drink. Please I need water. But there are too many people.

Next best thing: air. I lurch out the door and land on the pavement beside the door. The Kids are launching in to an encore. I can’t heard what it is. Doug is on his phone summoning the Uber. Imposing Young Doorman Man appears… with a cup of ice water in his hand. THANK YOU, DEAR BLESSING, SIR! You have no idea how many people normally just go, ‘YOU — you can’t sit there!’ (Hi, La Zona Rosa in Austin… the scuzzy incarnation not the gentrified one) even though I’m pretty sure if you kick me out of your establishment while swooning and I faceplant on the cement, I could sue you. Or something.

People aren’t normally friendly about it because they assume I drank too much… when it’s the opposite: I didn’t drink at all.

The Uber appears and we are whiskered away. I still couldn’t hear what the encore was. But I’m not sad. I got most of it and it was AMAZING. Nicolette saw me so I exist. Mission accomplished.

We are back in the hotel. Doug orders Denny’s Doordash. The thing about prolonged exposure to sonic assault is: nausea. Nothing sounds good. Until Doug says… macaroni and cheese. And I know EXACLTY what kind Denny’s has because I’ve noticed it on the menu before. It doesn’t lie. It doesn’t pretend to be something else. It is real: really Kraft boxed mac… and at that moment it sounds like the AMBROSIA of the GODS.

Which is exactly what it tastes like.

I am replenished. The gods of rock are appeased for another night …

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fbfh · 1 year

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STAR ANON HERE... I'm just curious what are your fave emo bands....

STAR ANON MY BELOVED!!!!! HOW ARE YOU DOING I MISS YOU <333 first of all, amazing question. I know the defenition of the emo genre is a little loose, but my favorite emo/pop punk bands are currently palaye royale, fall out boy (obvs), and paramore.

palaye royale own this fucking ass okay. remington leith.... ooooh my god. he has singlehandedly made me reconsider my stance on rpf. vampire!remington???? oh my god. oh my god. if I could drown in his voice I would. his cover of closer my nine inch nails actually brought about the second coming of christ. at the very end of no love in la where he goes "I SAID THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS LOVE IN LaAaAyEeee-"????? dead. actually dead. the boom is one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard in my life, line it up is my FUCKING ANTHEM, and dying in a hot tub live is my favorite video on the internet. I don't use the phrase "eargasm" every, but I genuinely can't think of any other way to describe remi's voice. Emerson is an amazing drummer and incredible artist (I am SO jelly of his ability to draw architecture) and Sebastian is a brilliant guitarist and is the brain cell posessor (and probably has to routinely keep remi from jumping off stuff and breaking a limb with only partial success.) the grittiness and sincerety and emotion in remington's voice really just scratches my brain in a way that nothing else does. If I could get his voice made into something tangible I would open my skull and rub my brain against it for hours. I fucking love him.

fall out boy need no introduction. "doing lines of dust and sweat off of last nights stage just to feel like you" from 27??????? lives in my head rent free. been into some of their absolute headbangers from american beauty/american psycho and infinity on high recently like novocaine, jetpack blues (i'm sorry but "do you reMEMBER HOW WE USED TO SPLIT. A. DRINK. itNEVermattEREDWHATitwas. I think." I WANT THAT TATTOOED ON MY FOREHEAD!!!!!!!), thriller (OFC) and i've got all this ringing in my ears all singlehandedly describe my brain chemistry. that's what dopamine sounds like. ALSO fourth of july will never not sound like season 3 of stranger things to me. yk all the promo art where they're all turning around???? that but in gif form while the first few notes are playing. I wish someone would make a slightly harringrove centric edit of the starcourt mall incident and the fair and everything. if anyone knows about any season 3 fourth of july edits PLEASE send them to me because "i'm starting to forget just what summer ever meant to you"????? pls

PARAMORE. FUCKING PARAMORE RAISED ME. paramore got me through my teenage years almost singlehandedly. I remember when after laughter came out. I fucking love this is why. It's almost all I've been listening to. all we know is falling???? brand new eyes???? literally paramore have ZERO SKIPS it's insane. also (maybe I just haven't heard of them) but it's really refreshing to have a female lead singer in a pop punk band bc (again as far as I'm aware) that's not as common as having a male lead singer and IF I COULD MAKE MY INNER MONOLOGUE BE HAYLEY WILLIAMS VOICE??????? PLS- listen all I wanted was you is amazing obviously but my heart?????? MY HEART?????? I wanna scream that at someone and mean it. bucket list. I can't even reccommend any paramore songs bc if I try to think of good paramore songs I'm just going to list their discography. no fucking skips and I stand by that. Hayley's solo albums also feel very twilight bella swan depression forest angst core which I FUCKING ADORE. first thing to go is tattooed in my brain, specifically paired with this scene from the greatest romcom of all time french kiss. match made in heaven.

also lip candy don't have a lot of songs out yet AS I AM TYPING THIS I JUST SAW THEY RELASED AN ALBUM????? BRB LISTENING TO THAT NOW but they sound like what I thought teenager music would sound like when I was a kid (like they nailed it fucking perfectly) and have a very nostalgic feeling and sound to them which I adore. if you stay home and never be the same fucking slap. they slap and a half. it's giving demigod adventurecore roadtrip music.

#going through a moderate family crisis so I'm answsering asks to distarct myself!!#song recs #also i'm listening to lip candys album and it does in fact slap

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theadventuresofawilddingus · 5 months

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03/01/2024

So I told myself that I'd continuously write on this so I have something to look back on in the future, reading all about my adventures and what not but if I'm honest I haven't even written on this since November due to being so damn busy. So here's a recap of the last 2 months.

So, we went to Melbourne for about 12 hours on legit 4 hours sleep and fuck, it was very eventful. Seeing Paramore definitely excused the fact I was dying from exhaustion... oh and of course the starbucks and seeing my favourite pal Mickayla since I hadn't seen her in a few months after she started her new life journey in Victoria. Have to say my bed had never looked better after all that travelling that's for sure. I decided to spoil myself for Christmas this year since I'm single as all shit and don't got no women to buy presents for. I joked for weeks beforehand that I was going to go buy a telecaster and no one could stop me, literally it started off as a joke until I walked into a music store and walked out with a brand spanking new tele. Did I regret the purchase even though it killed my bank account? Hell no. The next day I said goodbye to two tattoos that were holding me back and as much as the pain was some bullshit especially on my wrist bone, I don't regret a thing and I am honestly in love with this new piece. Christmas itself came quicker than expected, and as much as it was a drunk filled emotional one , I was so glad I decided to go away instead of spending it in Adelaide. Safe to say , I didn't really want to come home. Lately all I have wanted to do is travel but of course not having my licence has meant travelling has been a little limited which of course means I'm going for my licence in a few weeks, how scary. New years eve was an eventful one, looking like I'm about to jump on my horse and ride into the distance while listening to country diddys. The night was filled with karaoke, drinking... lots of drinking and more drinking. The next day was definitely eventful, not. And last but not least, today. Today was a day of letting go of a lot of things, clothes wise but things that had some sentiment to them. So if you know me well, you know tight jeans were an absolute staple in my life. Note that I also haven't worn tight jeans since about a couple of weeks after my ex and I broke up. Well, they are no longer as well what I classed as my favourite hoodie and a few other items. I actually got rid of the majority of my clothes I wore back then mainly because I just wanted to forget that version of myself since he gives me the ick nowadays. (Fucking douchebag 🤮) . It was bitter-sweet, I won't lie but damn it felt good.

2024 is a year of doing things for myself and of course, actually living instead of being in survival mode. Travelling is definitely in the books as well as many more concerts, music festivals etc. So stay tuned because this year, well this year is going to be the true year of The Adventures Of A Wild Dingus.

#exploring #travel #australia #Spotify

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lunapaper · 3 years

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The year was 2010. Emo was just starting to die out (long live the scene). I was studying to become a secondary school teacher, and Katy Perry was shooting whipped cream out of her boobs...

Second albums, more often than not, fail to live up to the hype. And yet, Teenage Dream has somehow endured.

While Perry’s 2008 debut, One of the Boys, launched her into the mainstream, it really hasn’t aged all that well. On tracks like ‘Self Inflicted’ and ‘Fingerprints,’ she tries way too hard to emulate Paramore’s bold pop punk. On others, she attempts to rebel against her gospel roots by turning the bawdiness up to 10.

It can also come off pretty juvenile at times. The singer was almost 25 when she sang on the title track: ‘So over the summer, something changed/I started reading Seventeen and shaving my legs/And I studied Lolita religiously/And I walked right in to school and caught you staring at me.’

But let’s be honest: Even though it’s been declared ~problematic~, you still jam out to ‘I Kissed A Girl’ when you hear it, don’t you? I hadn’t listened to ‘Ur So Gay’ before this, either, but its slinky, jazz-infused vibe absolutely slaps.

Like Teenage Dream is also a product of its time, presenting pop at its most sugary, hook-laden and bombastic. It managed to spawn 5 No.1 singles, the second album in history to do so after Michael Jackson’s Bad, as well as a documentary, Part of Me. There’s even a deluxe edition, cleverly titled The Complete Confection. It was Perry at her peak.

You know the title track, of course. Evoking images of cherry red lipstick, tight denim and driving down an empty highway in summer, Perry desperately clings to the memory of young love, breathlessly pleading ‘don’t ever look back, don’t ever look back.’

‘The One That Got Away,’ meanwhile, is its bittersweet sequel, Perry's lovesick nostalgia now tinged with regret. Yet, the only thing I really remember about the song is the video starring Cassian Andor himself, Diego Luna, as Perry’s past love, the beautifully dishevelled and tortured artist of my dreams (Dear God, that penetrating stare...) He’s also the only reason why anyone bothered to watch Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights, if it wasn’t already obvious.

First single ‘California Gurls,’ on the other hand, is pure pop exuberance at its most campy and carefree, indicative of a more innocent time when it wasn’t driven by algorithms or social media. ‘Firework’ is still a go-to empowerment anthem for just about every kind of montage imaginable. ‘ET’ (featuring a pre-’presidential’ Kanye) is heavily-synthesised cyber pop that doesn’t get nearly enough love.

But Teenage Dream, in retrospect, has quite a few misses. ‘Peacock’ is just one big, long, glitchy dick joke. ‘Not Like The Movies’ is big ballad schmaltz. The brassy soft rock of ‘Hummingbird Heartbeat,’ meanwhile, opens with a hell of a line: ‘You make me feel like I'm losing my virginity/The first time, every time when you're touching me.’ And I’m pretty sure ‘What Am I Living For?’ is partly plagiarised from Justin Timberlake’s ‘My Love.’ Even Pitchfork awarded Teenage Dream a rather tame 6.8 in their recent retrospective review.

By the time Perry released Prism in 2013 – her ‘darker, moodier’ record - she had shifted further into ‘inspirational anthems.’ There was the inescapable mega-hit ‘Roar,’ the saccharine power ballad ‘Unconditionally’ and the Eastern-tinged ‘Legendary Lovers,’ complete with wellness and spiritual motifs.

But it wasn’t without its bangers: ‘Dark Horse’ (featuring Juicy J) jumped onto the trap pop bandwagon just in time with its subterranean bass and eerie, otherworldly synths. Even the slick, 90s-indebted ‘This Is How We Do’ has a certain charm.

Prism also marked the point where Perry’s invincibility began to wear off. Where the masses once lapped up her candy-coated antics, they were now calling her out for wearing braids in the video for ‘This Is How We Do’ and dressing up as a geisha during a performance at the American Music Awards.

And they would only get louder during her era of ‘purposeful pop.’ Released in the aftermath of the 2016 US election, Witness was meant to cement Perry as ‘Artist. Activist. Conscious’ - as her Twitter bio read at the time. She had joined Hillary Clinton on the campaign trail. On Instagram, she was quoting the likes of Socrates and Plato. She was Woke now, and she was telling anyone who’d listen.

Yet you’d be hard pressed to find much trace of this ‘purposeful pop’ on Witness, bar the first single, ‘Chained to the Rhythm.’ Written with Sia and Max Martin, the singer implores listeners to ‘put your rose-coloured glasses on and party on’ amid whirling, colourful synths.

The rest of the record, however, is made up of either soppy, overly sentimental ballads (‘Save As Draft,’ ‘Pendulum,’ ‘Into Me You See’), awkward lyrical turns and CHVRCHES/Purity Ring knock-offs (‘Hey Hey Hey,’ ‘Roulette,’ ‘Deja Vu’).

Funnily enough, Purity Ring’s Corin Roddick produced some of Witness’ better tracks: ‘Mind Maze’ and the soaring ballad ‘Miss You More, along with ‘Bigger Than Me.’

Final track ‘Act My Age,’ meanwhile, feels like a pre-emptive strike against the criticism Witness would inevitably receive (‘They say that I might lose my Midas touch/They also say I may become irrelevant/But who the fuck are they anyway?’).

Then there’s the godawful ‘Bon Appetit’ (featuring Migos) with its food-related double entendres. It was ‘Yummy’ before ‘Yummy’ existed. Seriously, I just wanna see Orlando Bloom say he likes this song with a straight face...

But I will still defend ‘Swish Swish’ to the death. Do the lyrics suck? Yeah, but Perry’s never been the strongest lyricist. But its pulsing 90s house beat does a lot of the heavy lifting, along with Nicki Minaj’s spitfire verse.

The promotional rollout for Witness, meanwhile, proved just as messy. Among the most infamous was a 72-hour livestream, where voyeurs got to witness Perry sleep, meditate, do yoga and welcome a random assortment of guests, including Gordon Ramsey and activist DeRay McKesson. Then there was the meme-laden video for ‘Swish Swish. She literally served herself up on a platter in the clip for ‘Bon Appetit.’ She tried reigniting her feud with Taylor Swift on James Corden’s Carpool Karaoke. Needless to say, it reeked of desperation.

Looking back, though, you can’t help but feel a little bad for Perry, trying so hard to please only for it to blow up spectacularly in her face. So devastated, it sent her to the Hoffman Institute, which offers an abridged version of therapy. As she later told the Guardian:

‘I think the universe was like, ‘OK, all right, let’s have some humble pie here […] My negative thoughts were not great. They didn’t want to plan for a future. I also felt like I could control it by saying, ‘I’ll have the last word if I hurt myself or do something stupid and I’ll show you’ — but really, who was I showing?’

But although Witness lacked the perkiness of Teenage Dream or the cartoonish charm of One of the Boys, it shines best on its darker moments.

‘Dance With The Devil’ has the kind of smoky allure that wouldn’t look too out of place on a BANKS album, while ‘Power’ is a revelation. Produced by Jack Garrett, what could’ve been yet another dull empowerment ballad is turned into a gritty, groaning slab of vaporwave pop, with sultry sax riffs that sample, of all things, Smokey Robinson’s ‘Being With You.’ It’s electric as fuck. You believe it when Perry sings: ‘’Cause I'm a goddess and you know it/Some respect, you better show it/I'm done with you siphoning my power.’

If the singer had just done away with the whole ‘purposeful pop’ concept and stuck with Garrett, Roddick and Terror Jr’s Felix Snow as her core producing group, Witness probably wouldn’t have been half the failure it was. It could’ve had a chance to grow on people, the kind of slow burn Perry could’ve gotten away with at this point in her career. The cyberpop dystopian feel also could’ve gone hand in hand with her newfound wokeness, echoing people’s fear and anger in the aftermath of Trump’s win. But alas, we’ll never know...

While the rollout for Witness over the top, Smile’s was lacklustre and wildly inconsistent.

First single ‘Never Really Over’ came out a whole 15 months before the release of Smile to little fanfare, along with a hippie-inspired video to match. ‘Harleys in Hawaii’ later followed, which also stuck with the flower power aesthetic. Other singles - ‘Daisies’ and the title track – seemingly came and went without a trace.

So how did Katy Perry get to this point? And is there any chance of coming back?

It’s hard to say. A lot of artists go through a rough patch or two: Miley's twerking antics divided audiences when she released 2013’s Bangerz. Taylor Swift’s reputation divided audiences. Only in recent years has Lady Gaga’s ARTPOP been vindicated. Such is the nature of music and pop culture in general. It’s fickle, just one vicious cycle after another; an endless quest for trend-bait that'll never end.

Right now, disco pop is going through a renaissance, while hyperpop reigns supreme. Dua Lip and Charli XCX are basically untouchable at the moment. TikTok has taken over from Top 40 radio when it comes to breaking hits, while the gap between album releases has also grown shorter and shorter. Even the nature of fandom has changed, shifting from old-school elitism to the bloodsport that is ‘stanning,’ along with an unhealthy amount of ‘endless simping’ (to quote a close friend of mine).

Perry, meanwhile, has failed to keep up, choosing to play it safe in order to avoid further scrutiny. But in doing so, she strips away the humour, the mischief and other idiosyncrasies that fans fell in love with in the first place.

But what choice did she have? As Junkee’s Sam Murphy notes in his own piece about Perry’s rise and fall:

‘At that point, you have two choices as a popstar — hunt for relevancy or make what comes naturally to you. Perry chose the former and came unstuck. She inserted vague wokeness into her songs as cancel culture infiltrated pop, tacked on rap features as hip-hop became the dominant commercial genre, and worked with producers who may have been able to find her credibility.’

(Full disclosure: I started writing my piece on Perry back in December 2020, so the timing of Murphy’s piece and mine is purely coincidental).

Even if you don’t believe in cancel culture, no one actually wants to be cancelled. It’s just not good for PR, especially for someone with an image as glossy and as carefully put-together as Perry’s. Even now, she continues to atone for Witness, telling the LA Times: ‘Having more awareness and consciousness, I no longer can just be a blissful, ignorant idealist who sings about love and relationships […] Even my travels have afforded me a new perspective on cultures, class systems and the inequality around the world, not just in the United States,’ though she carefully avoids the subject of politics on Smile.

But redemption is possible. Swift – Perry's one-time nemesis - was a total pariah back in 2016, mocked for her Girl Squad, for diddling the Hiddles while on the rebound from Calvin Harris and criticised for remaining coy on her political leanings. Now she’s earning indie cred with two of 2020’s biggest albums, folklore and evermore, and has thrown her support behind a number of social causes.

The devil works hard, but Swift’s PR team work harder. I might not be her biggest fan, but Taylor works Kris Jenner levels of mastery when it comes to rebuilding public sentiment. Thanks to her newfound indie cred, you’ve almost forgotten about the pastel atrocity ‘Me!,’ her 2019 duet with that insufferable drama kid cliché, Brendon Urie. Shifting her songs away from petty grievances to more original storytelling was also a smart move.

But while Swift has managed to move on, Perry seems to have fallen into the same adult contemporary trap as Gwen Stefani, Kelly Clarkson, Christina Aguilera and Pink, one that ensnares many female artists over 30 (Though many have also managed to escape – Gaga, Taylor, Beyonce, Rihanna, Kesha, Robyn...)

As ‘woke’ as the industry and fans at large might think themselves to be, they’re still pretty ageist. There's still an expectation to ‘mature’ your sound as you age, to become more ‘serious.’ No more fun, no more experimenting, boomer. But when you do end up filing away the edges, you’re called dull, generic and past your prime. Perry said as much on the aforementioned ‘Act My Age. You just. can't. win.

And yet, many female artists over 30 have created some of their best work yet in just the past year or so: Hayley Williams made the dramatic shift from pop rock to low-key, Radiohead-inspired tunes on her solo debut, Petals For Armor. Fiona Apple’s Fetch the Bolt Cutters was hailed by critics as her most bold, urgent and visceral. Jessie Ware’s What’s Your Pleasure? was a cut of understated disco pop elegance. Carly Rae Jepsen, meanwhile, released an equally stellar companion to 2019’s Dedicated.

At this point in her career, Perry could afford to follow a similar path to that of the Canadian singer. Once the meme value of ‘Call Me Maybe’ wore off, along with her mainstream appeal, Jepsen finally had a chance to discover real creative freedom, pushing her sound to greater heights and earning critical acclaim, all without having to compromise her love for catchy hooks and bold synth pop arrangements.

A couple of years ago, a Reddit user made a post about participating in a focus group held by Perry’s label to discuss why she’s ‘no longer one of the[ir] most notable female pop artists,’ and ‘what can [they] do with her image or marketing to make you care about her again?’

It’s depressing to think that an artist as accomplished as her needs a focus group to help solve her identity crisis. There really is no easy answer. Hopefully, Perry will be able to return more vibrant and assured than ever, on her own terms...

-Bianca B.

#music #katy perry #longform #opinion #new #Bianca B

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