Well that was incredible. The singer was just pouring out a heart rending, soulful rendition of Creep that would make your chest shudder. Her possessed driven voice was looking to smash right out of that room, like a gail force from massive unseen pipes. She could turn from whisper to soaring then back.
Meanwhile, the backing band played a giddily infectious and genial vamp, like it just went right over their heads that Creep is a devastatingly sorrowful song–not melancholy, but acute anguish, bereaved loss as a freely gushing wound that doesn’t heal.But no, they carried entire duration of the song–like it was jauntily amiable, laid back and with the purest kind of no-fucks-to-give, bounce in its gait. For me, it recalled the sensation and storied feel of Herbie Hancock’s Fat Albert Rotunda, or the lope along good natured Linus and Lucy theme from countless Peanuts animated specials–which only added to the thick warm mallow feeling it stirred in me.
Her voice railed with loneliness and loss. It’s sonorous dolor filled the air enveloping the rhythm section, but instead of leaching the vitality out of them, it was like they just absorbed her energy for juice. It cranked the mood coming off them from dopey laissez-faire to jubilation, the loping feel of the rhythm’s stride shifted subtly, rising in mood to a march. Then up from march to a joyous victory dance without changing any tempo, dynamic, or orchestration, just like they appropriated the agony energy of her song and transformed it into an aural ecstasy more suited to a dervish.
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More info on them, pasted from Youtube:
Subscribe: http://bit.ly/2IwGwQc
Official Website: https://scarypocketsfunk.com
Stories Channel: https://youtube.com/channel/UC-yUK_2H...
Facebook: https://facebook.com/scarypockets
Instagram: https://instagram.com/scarypockets
Twitter: https://twitter.com/scarypockets
Bandcamp: https://scarypockets.bandcamp.com
Musicians Vocals: India Carney Bass: Sam Wilkes Drums: Lemar Carter Guitar: Ryan Lerman Wurlitzer: Jack Conte (who you might recognise from Pomplamoose) Recording Engineer: Pete Min
Kurt Vonnegut:
“When I was 15, I spent a month working on an archeological dig. I was talking to one of the archeologists one day during our lunch break and he asked those kinds of “getting to know you” questions you ask young people: Do you play sports? What’s your favorite subject? And I told him, no I don’t play any sports. I do theater, I’m in choir, I play the violin and piano, I used to take art classes.
And he went WOW. That’s amazing! And I said, “Oh no, but I’m not any good at ANY of them.”
And he said something then that I will never forget and which absolutely blew my mind because no one had ever said anything like it to me before: “I don’t think being good at things is the point of doing them. I think you’ve got all these wonderful experiences with different skills, and that all teaches you things and makes you an interesting person, no matter how well you do them.”
And that honestly changed my life. Because I went from a failure, someone who hadn’t been talented enough at anything to excel, to someone who did things because I enjoyed them. I had been raised in such an achievement-oriented environment, so inundated with the myth of Talent, that I thought it was only worth doing things if you could “Win” at them.”
prude isnt a label like "dumbass" its a condemnation of any girl who doesnt act in alignment with the standard of beauty. wrap your head around it
no, it's not, you're just oversensitive to any criticism and somehow have been raised to feel you should never be criticized. You don't know how to be an adult and cope with the world, so you just run around making demands and declarations. Do you know who I hear making condemnations? People like you. All day long. If you can't be bothered to learn the language, you shouldn't speak. Prude is not a gendered word, it can be a relevant descriptor for anyone unduly nervous, inhibited and uncomfortable with sexual matters. Beauty, and the supposed standards you allude to are not relevant. See, so what happens is you walk around ranting about how unfair the world is and its oh just so mean, but no one even knows what you are saying because you can't be bothered to use words accurately--its another sick entitled expectation people today have, they think a word means whatever whim crosses their airy heads in that moment, and expect everyone to fall in line--and then they have the temerity to say that it is they who are being oppressed. There has never been a generation in history so coddled, so spoiled, so comforted with special privileges and extra care for your endless feelings about everything, and puritanical rules everywhere so you never have to be uncomfortable and what did it accomplish? Whiny narcissistic baby tyrants who can't be made satisfied, ever, and feel absolute entitlement to dictate to others. It is loathsome and repellant. And it isn't a healthy or productive way to live. It's people like you who are always telling people how they should behave, believe, talk. That's the fucking ideologically driven normative force I see in the world: not your oppressors, but you. A whole generation of personality disordered morality police with zero self accountability of their own. Who the fuck would want to listen to you? Enfant terrible. That's a term too, with a definition. G wrap your whiny head around a fucking dictionary and grow up.
The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou (2004) dir. Wes Anderson
have a nice day :)
Magenta?
That is a seriously romantic font, it suggests a phantasmagoria.
The force is with us.
Are you?
Here are some of the images I created for Topp’s new series of trading cards, Star Wars: Chrome Perspectives. It was a blast to make them, and I’m gratified that the folks who’ve seen them seem to dig them.
As if I have the option not to.
The Mighty Tardigrade is defined by his endurance. He persists, the Avatar of resilience. Tardigrade cannot be felled; The Tardigrade carries on.
No one does escape. It doesn't matter one bit. Humility is everything.
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