November 2009
1. The National - Fake Empire
2. Cut Off Your Hands - Blue On Blue
3. Pet Lions - Roman History
4. The Pixies - Debaser
5. Amusement Parks on Fire - The Day It Snowed
6. Naast - Coeur De Glace
7. Gallows - In The Belly Of A Shark
8. Bad Lieutenant - Running Out Of Luck
9. Catherine Wheel - Pain
10. Elvis Costello - Radio, Radio
11. Black Flag -TV Party
12. Pavement - Cut Your Hair
13. The Rentals - Friends of P.
14. Fuck Buttons - Sweet Love For Planet Earth
15. The Cinematics - She Talks to the Trees
16. The Cure - Fascination Street
17. Editors - Munich (Cicada Remix)
18. Soviet Soviet - Restless
19. Coma League - First of the Month
20. The Sleepy Jackson - This Day
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Friday, October 30, 2009
Hooray for Pet Lions!
When I checked on the progress/insight
for my video for Pet Lion's Roman History,
not only did the amount of views increased abnormally,
but when i checked where the amount of links were coming from,
it was from the band's actual web site.
.......
It made me bursted out of my room for extreme exuberence.
It was just as good, if not better, as the time i made a video for Tokyo Police Club,
and they responded back.
Finally, i'm earning RL experience points.
for my video for Pet Lion's Roman History,
not only did the amount of views increased abnormally,
but when i checked where the amount of links were coming from,
it was from the band's actual web site.
.......
It made me bursted out of my room for extreme exuberence.
It was just as good, if not better, as the time i made a video for Tokyo Police Club,
and they responded back.
Finally, i'm earning RL experience points.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Insomniac.
For the last couple months, i've only slept for 2 to 4 hours daily,
because i have a very hard time staying asleep.
Usually i just try to sleep,
rolling around back and forth with my eyes closed,
but something keeps me up always at night,
things beyond my control.
Currently, is the height of this insomnia,
as I've not slept in 40 hours,
and i'm currently feel like crap.
.....
.....
It's like a bloodshot of depression clogging up my heart,
which makes everything kept quite monotone.
I feel so much like something is gonna overdose.
because i have a very hard time staying asleep.
Usually i just try to sleep,
rolling around back and forth with my eyes closed,
but something keeps me up always at night,
things beyond my control.
Currently, is the height of this insomnia,
as I've not slept in 40 hours,
and i'm currently feel like crap.
.....
.....
It's like a bloodshot of depression clogging up my heart,
which makes everything kept quite monotone.
I feel so much like something is gonna overdose.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Here's to Gorey.
Antony caught Anxiety in May;
Bethany was always Bored during the day.
Carlita stared Curiously out the window;
Danté Desired some dessert, some time ago.
Eve lacked the Empathy for her peers;
Franklyn overcame his greatest Fears.
Gavin sorrows of his late mother in Grief;
Henry caused Hysteria for an imaginary thief
Ida was Irritated with her overlooked opinion;
Jasper shouted Jubilantly about his triumphant win.
Kerry Keenly watched the sunset, so clement;
Lowell roamed in the night, in lonely Lament.
Manny seemed Modest finding his ideal trait;
Nelson stood Nervously, waiting for his date.
Olive was once Optimistic, but it subsides;
Percy wrote his prose though conceited Pride.
Quentin turned Quaint in his style and beliefs;
Roland took a sigh of apparent Relief.
Simpson detest his struggle under Submission;
Theodore’s Torment was his lack of ambition.
Ulysses, protesting in Umbrage, seemed rogue;
Violet strolled around the avenue, in Vogue.
Walter was Worried of sea monsters in sinister caves;
Xenia turned Xenophobic of charismatic Danes.
Yanic Yearned for the morning to come;
Zooey waited Zealously for the rise of the sun.
Bethany was always Bored during the day.
Carlita stared Curiously out the window;
Danté Desired some dessert, some time ago.
Eve lacked the Empathy for her peers;
Franklyn overcame his greatest Fears.
Gavin sorrows of his late mother in Grief;
Henry caused Hysteria for an imaginary thief
Ida was Irritated with her overlooked opinion;
Jasper shouted Jubilantly about his triumphant win.
Kerry Keenly watched the sunset, so clement;
Lowell roamed in the night, in lonely Lament.
Manny seemed Modest finding his ideal trait;
Nelson stood Nervously, waiting for his date.
Olive was once Optimistic, but it subsides;
Percy wrote his prose though conceited Pride.
Quentin turned Quaint in his style and beliefs;
Roland took a sigh of apparent Relief.
Simpson detest his struggle under Submission;
Theodore’s Torment was his lack of ambition.
Ulysses, protesting in Umbrage, seemed rogue;
Violet strolled around the avenue, in Vogue.
Walter was Worried of sea monsters in sinister caves;
Xenia turned Xenophobic of charismatic Danes.
Yanic Yearned for the morning to come;
Zooey waited Zealously for the rise of the sun.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Roman History.
I was gonna do a productive video with my green screen,
but instead i liked just the background piece better.
My green screen broke anyway,
so i am stuck with this,
not to say its a bad thing.
but instead i liked just the background piece better.
My green screen broke anyway,
so i am stuck with this,
not to say its a bad thing.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Summer Snow.
its been too long.
but its worth wait.
its been 4 years.
since i've seen you, dear.
your marble eyes
with your arcane ways
i wish to see you glow.
i wish we lived in summer snow.
we had some good handshakes
on some good weekdays
it's shyness that covers ambition
but its the feeling that's good
i thought i saw you from over here
it came off swift and mellow
caught it off an ice blink
and it was all yellow
it been bovine
but i've fine.
and i hope you been too.
it's been awhile,
i've been idle
and it's all I do.
I want learn your ways
I want to speak like you
but can't get it straight
we can't just assume.
all the tears had turned to snow.
it as if i lost all hope.
the days are as cold as night
take your coat off, and take flight.
its warm all over me
we send our photographs
across the rising sun
my heart's in the newest of places
i hear the cherry saved the night
as tomorrow has begun
i know your out there
because i wait for your return
in the faintest of summer days,
I lie beneath the snow
but its worth wait.
its been 4 years.
since i've seen you, dear.
your marble eyes
with your arcane ways
i wish to see you glow.
i wish we lived in summer snow.
we had some good handshakes
on some good weekdays
it's shyness that covers ambition
but its the feeling that's good
i thought i saw you from over here
it came off swift and mellow
caught it off an ice blink
and it was all yellow
it been bovine
but i've fine.
and i hope you been too.
it's been awhile,
i've been idle
and it's all I do.
I want learn your ways
I want to speak like you
but can't get it straight
we can't just assume.
all the tears had turned to snow.
it as if i lost all hope.
the days are as cold as night
take your coat off, and take flight.
its warm all over me
we send our photographs
across the rising sun
my heart's in the newest of places
i hear the cherry saved the night
as tomorrow has begun
i know your out there
because i wait for your return
in the faintest of summer days,
I lie beneath the snow
Farewell, Good Rakes.
I can't effin' believe the Rakes broke up for good.
they were an awe-inspiring band with some good tunes and a lot of potential.
I guess this a time that has come to pass.
Oh, the bittersweet horror....
they were an awe-inspiring band with some good tunes and a lot of potential.
I guess this a time that has come to pass.
Oh, the bittersweet horror....
Friday, October 23, 2009
Mindless Banter, session 1.
The walk around, a summery, an overview.
Maybe I was diagnosed with something wrong.
As if I’ve been pushing the “pull” door.
I’d like to think it all goes forward
And everything is going to plan.
But the blueprints are fumbled a hundred miles back,
Somewhere down the line,
I’m alone in unknown territory.
It’s no time to be a pessimist,
But it’s the only I could do.
I’d just want to think it’s the cushion you lay on that makes you go to sleep.
But it’s usually something other different factor.
The cotton coverings, bags of gathered feather,
Who knows?
Tethered dreams aligned itself upon a mushroom cloud of the unforgiving,
The unwilling, the letdown, and the given-ups.
And the light that is never there ceases to leave.
There’s no forgiveness in any of this,
And I’ll I can do I just watch it all.
Maybe I was diagnosed with something wrong.
As if I’ve been pushing the “pull” door.
I’d like to think it all goes forward
And everything is going to plan.
But the blueprints are fumbled a hundred miles back,
Somewhere down the line,
I’m alone in unknown territory.
It’s no time to be a pessimist,
But it’s the only I could do.
I’d just want to think it’s the cushion you lay on that makes you go to sleep.
But it’s usually something other different factor.
The cotton coverings, bags of gathered feather,
Who knows?
Tethered dreams aligned itself upon a mushroom cloud of the unforgiving,
The unwilling, the letdown, and the given-ups.
And the light that is never there ceases to leave.
There’s no forgiveness in any of this,
And I’ll I can do I just watch it all.
Running.
Green Screen again.
This is more of an outtake then something else.
I pretend i'm running away from something,
probably Chris Martin.
This is more of an outtake then something else.
I pretend i'm running away from something,
probably Chris Martin.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Caust of Millions - pt.1
Act I – ‘War!’
In black and white days,
We’re trapped in celebrated war.
It became a joyful division,
But no one knew what it was really for.
We bow to the man in the high castle,
As the noble wolf blew our houses down
Only evil triumphs, never the will;
Piece by piece taken by chained hounds
There is no use for a heaven,
If panic is playing their god;
Fear is what you can’t understand.
Fear is their way of conquer and command.
Trapped in Dante's inferno;
What deity are you to claim?
We aren't the ones you should blame.
We aren't your pawns in your game.
They speak in colloquial words;
with their arms stretched forward out.
Passing though the shadows in light,
They call; they shout
They hunt our souls without a bounty,
As we run from dusk to dawn.
Hidden and trapped beneath footsteps;
Hidden from the streets we once walked on.
They hear, not see;
They march in the night.
Striking terror in the fight;
Striking blood with their bite
They hunt and attack;
they capture without having to repent.
taking families, with more to cement;
taking dead souls, no time to lament.
In black and white days,
We’re trapped in celebrated war.
It became a joyful division,
But no one knew what it was really for.
We bow to the man in the high castle,
As the noble wolf blew our houses down
Only evil triumphs, never the will;
Piece by piece taken by chained hounds
There is no use for a heaven,
If panic is playing their god;
Fear is what you can’t understand.
Fear is their way of conquer and command.
Trapped in Dante's inferno;
What deity are you to claim?
We aren't the ones you should blame.
We aren't your pawns in your game.
They speak in colloquial words;
with their arms stretched forward out.
Passing though the shadows in light,
They call; they shout
They hunt our souls without a bounty,
As we run from dusk to dawn.
Hidden and trapped beneath footsteps;
Hidden from the streets we once walked on.
They hear, not see;
They march in the night.
Striking terror in the fight;
Striking blood with their bite
They hunt and attack;
they capture without having to repent.
taking families, with more to cement;
taking dead souls, no time to lament.
Penitence should be no delusion.
This should be not the Final Solution.
Act II – ‘Capture’
More homes stacked from bones then brick,
Pieced together from blood and flesh;
Smiling so politely, the leaders at bay;
Running so nervously, the assailant’s runaways.
We ran
So we won't decay.
We tried,
Just to get away.
We were caught,
And viciously swayed.
We were weak
As we silently prayed,
"To the holy ghost, we call
In our awakening hour
Deliver us from evil.
Let not the world turn sour.
As our hopes sink in an endless night,
We pray to see our sun again
No blood shed for weak and weary
With our hearts, we pray, amen.”
We were taken
On a blood red sun,
We were fooled,
And betrayed by some.
We were certain,
A war had begun.
We fell into
The barrel of a gun.
Shot into spirals
In and out of collapsing spaces;
Squeezed and packed tight
To millions of frowning faces.
Our dishearten eyes looked up
At once was blue;
The sky that turned black,
The heavens became such a bitter view.
Snow fell down like confetti
While walking though the devil's parade.
No one could hear the sounds of pain.
No one could come in our need of aid.
This should be not the Final Solution.
Act II – ‘Capture’
More homes stacked from bones then brick,
Pieced together from blood and flesh;
Smiling so politely, the leaders at bay;
Running so nervously, the assailant’s runaways.
We ran
So we won't decay.
We tried,
Just to get away.
We were caught,
And viciously swayed.
We were weak
As we silently prayed,
"To the holy ghost, we call
In our awakening hour
Deliver us from evil.
Let not the world turn sour.
As our hopes sink in an endless night,
We pray to see our sun again
No blood shed for weak and weary
With our hearts, we pray, amen.”
We were taken
On a blood red sun,
We were fooled,
And betrayed by some.
We were certain,
A war had begun.
We fell into
The barrel of a gun.
Shot into spirals
In and out of collapsing spaces;
Squeezed and packed tight
To millions of frowning faces.
Our dishearten eyes looked up
At once was blue;
The sky that turned black,
The heavens became such a bitter view.
Snow fell down like confetti
While walking though the devil's parade.
No one could hear the sounds of pain.
No one could come in our need of aid.
Captured off a vicious attack;
When will our heroes ever come back?
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Underrated Albums : "Flowers of Romance"
How weird what the years can slowly do to you.
But sometimes change is a good thing.
The rest, is just simply in blank territory.
Out from the alcove of the Sex Pistols, John Lydon was on a mission; to make music that was both extremely noncommercial and left a signature worthy of two special fingers ("..i.. ..i.." this are the fingers i was referring to. and if you get what i'm talking about, well, eff' you too.) to the industry that tore both his music into a soulless enterprise and his well-being with the death of his dear friend, Sid Vicious, and a betrayal of his manager, Malcolm McLaren. So he restarted his music perspective with a new band, Public Image Limited, that welcomed new ideas + some innovation and rejected old traditions. While old fans and the media was expecting another incarnation of his Sex Pistols, ol' Johnny wanted to get one thing clear: "Punk is Dead." To this day, we ultimately know this statement is false! But in his eyes, punk became nothing but an old ghost. The composition off people in the band that contribute to the band differently, is not only limited to the people playing the instruments, mainly due to the fact that Johnny did not consider his band a "band", but more of a corporation, a business if you will. Why? To probably point out how the industry is so infatuated with money and its effort to control the market, in contrast to the anarchist outfits from the Pistols. He went the all out to prove this theory to the household people, but in the end, no one ever got the message.
There first single, "Public Image" lashed out at his old manager, and left old traces of its punk form, but when its debut came out, "First Issue" you could point and picked out its innovation, even though this album is noted for its great lack of effort. It was reasonably O.k. for a debut album, but it was later their artistic abilities were able to grow. What is considered to be their magnum opus (which by all means, it is, hands down) is their next album, the strange and quite eerie "Metal Box." A personal favorite, it was proven to be a landmark to the post-rock, post-punk, and experimental rock genres as its legacy branched far out then its initial release.
Hmmmmmmm....O.k. I'm probably giving Johnny too much credit here...
The bands sound is not greatly created by Johnny himself, but a great amount of innovation came from the founding members. Keith Levene, one of the founding members of the Clash, created a new sound from using Travis Bean guitars, which have aluminum necks that gave off a unique, "metallic" guitar sound. He often contribute very tight guitar sounds that was very clear cut and sharp enough to feel the knife rising upon your listening ear. The bassist, Jah Wobble, was surprisingly new at playing bass but unlike Sid Vicious, he was actually good at playing the bass. He founded his signature bass playing, which was hailed as "impossibly deep" by early contemporary reviews. All of them, were great control-freaks, all wanting their sound to go in a different directions then the other, which would later would be the cause of their slow decay. The first one to go was Wobble as he became frustrated with creative decisions and darken by all of the band members (including himself) drug usage. This left Johnny and Levene alone to create this underrated masterpiece.
Somewhere in late 1980, the songs written for "Flowers of Romance" proved to be another step in experimental music making. Levene's signature guitar sound was all but missing, as he traded his guitar for synthesizers and drums. He stretched his guitar sounds with the use of reverse taping and shaky distortion. Lydon garnered any instrument he could find that could just bang on or just recklessly play on. But the main distinction of this album is it violent and haunting drumming and percussion playing. For example, "Under the House" is comprised of relentless drum banging, while somewhere in the middle is the ghostly sound of an old opera. "Four Enclosed Walls" give the feeling of claustrophobia with its dry drumming and its haunting shrieking from Johnny's dampened soul. My favorite track is "an obvious track" (imagine that!), "Track 8" which gives you the feel that your in a trance on emotionless thoughts, which sirens and television noise appear but don't phase you at all. Another good track is "Phenagen" which has a middle eastern feel that feels like your in an old Romanian church in the night or something. I certainly feel that way in a sense. It's lead and only single is the dry title song, which is certainly odd and feels like shouting torture but in Johnny voice and in your ears. But i'm not saying thats a bad thing. The ending track, "Francis Massacre" sounds like a band playful at most after so much darkness. It probably after so much dark recording, they recorded themselves destroying all the equipment and instruments, and made a song on it. In the end, it became the least commercial record ever created.
After the album was released, it was greeted with lukewarm reviews as this effort was seen as even more challenging, in comparison to the bleak "Metal Box," but welcomed its exploration. In contrast, the band continued to decay, as planning for the next album became difficult with frustrated label heads and tensions within the band. Levene, was the next to leave, with similar reasons to Wobble, but with bigger drug abuse problems. The next few albums, fronted by only Lydon as the main songwriter, shifted into more contemporary rock and sounded less innovative and experimental as it once was. With the possible exception to "Compact Disc", "Flowers of Romance" was Public Image's last great album. Sure, it was extremely noncommercial to great extends, but it still is a great record that is even celebrated and inspired some of the artists today. Weird how its quite inspiring, yet its not your everyday record. It's funny how the years can treat and change you.
Damn. The chick (the same one on the album cover) is a total babe.
I'm serious, she appears like a ringleader for a Gothic circus or something.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Dance.
Here's the first of a few new videos,
where i test my new handy, dandy green screen!
this is the one where i dance.
enjoy.
where i test my new handy, dandy green screen!
this is the one where i dance.
enjoy.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Light.
The flicker in the house from a rainy day
The power from looking too much
The spark from a chemical blast
The shine between our dusty fingers
The sight we see that overcomes fear
The sail that makes the moon a kite in the sky
The sight we see though at the end of a tunnel
The glow wee see on a stairway to heaven
The flicker like magic on the ceiling
The bright of that make the cities like stars from distanced sights
The waves that grow from the core of a sun
The meal the plants strive to live on
The edges that cast the shadows though plight
The spark from evening fireworks over the bayside
The flash and the cluster in dances and raves
The glow from fireflies on a campsite
The luminosity of a movie screen
The illumination of dancing bulbs on building tops
The delight of escaping the blight of empty dark
The healing we feel in its presence everywhere
The playfulness on the height of everything
The power from looking too much
The spark from a chemical blast
The shine between our dusty fingers
The sight we see that overcomes fear
The sail that makes the moon a kite in the sky
The sight we see though at the end of a tunnel
The glow wee see on a stairway to heaven
The flicker like magic on the ceiling
The bright of that make the cities like stars from distanced sights
The waves that grow from the core of a sun
The meal the plants strive to live on
The edges that cast the shadows though plight
The spark from evening fireworks over the bayside
The flash and the cluster in dances and raves
The glow from fireflies on a campsite
The luminosity of a movie screen
The illumination of dancing bulbs on building tops
The delight of escaping the blight of empty dark
The healing we feel in its presence everywhere
The playfulness on the height of everything
Thursday, October 15, 2009
The Death of Leonidus.
Sadly, the journeys of Leonidus has been cut short,
as he died of a heat stroke while tanning for the love of his life, Ricky.
So instead,
enjoy this old video from the archives of the White Lands.
all i can say about this is that...
i was really bored.
REALLY, REALLY bored.
as he died of a heat stroke while tanning for the love of his life, Ricky.
So instead,
enjoy this old video from the archives of the White Lands.
all i can say about this is that...
i was really bored.
REALLY, REALLY bored.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Playing It Bogart.
Twilight kept through the clouds,
lead smoke gives my shadows in the night
all blood ran out of my pale hands
all I see are walking ghosts though the light
whiskey in crystal sitting next to the fireplace
black and faded roses in its place
my Beretta sticks out but I got time to lose
I’m just dining in nothing but bad news
counting my time, kept on tab
audacity became such a drag
strolling though revolving doors
never thought to see you anymore
moonlight and love songs
are never out of date
but out of all the bars here
you came to this one too late
enough with the monkey business
there’s nothing more to reminisce
nothing but gin to put out these flames now,
I'd laughed if I'd remembered how
you take my talk so cheap
yet you buy it up anyway
bartering sand for my hour glass.
I’m not selling, so stray…
cloudy eyes pour on porcelain cheeks
with every scene in the same bar
ruby eyes under liquor drinks
as every shadow falls to a new star
your eyes make the moon cry
your smile made the sinners die.
this is stuff that dreams are made of
not even redemption feels this divine.
she stares and speaks
as she held my hand
her words slip though my fingers
so quickly like sand
dressed so achromatic
words so automatic
gin and whiskey has no truth;
she's was playing the sleuth.
battling bad guys day and night
running away from a twisted plight
wishing to bring you home
as your train leaves late tonight
nerves of steel all eroding
nights last call, taken and subdued
stars laden with foreboding
so here's that drink for you.
the silver lining magically glows
on the platform, you're waiting
mocking lights shifting under snow
I’m just contemplating
she turns slow to smile
and I’m caught off guard
She made it worth a while
Leaving now became too hard
airplanes passing by
siren sounds call them this way
no need for any good-bye
I’ll come back someday
those cliché bad guys are coming by
and the ground crumbles though my feet
those glossy and polished eyes
"here's to looking to you, kid."
one, two, twenty-two
I was counting sand to see you
Goes like this ‘til I die.
Only this as time goes by...
lead smoke gives my shadows in the night
all blood ran out of my pale hands
all I see are walking ghosts though the light
whiskey in crystal sitting next to the fireplace
black and faded roses in its place
my Beretta sticks out but I got time to lose
I’m just dining in nothing but bad news
counting my time, kept on tab
audacity became such a drag
strolling though revolving doors
never thought to see you anymore
moonlight and love songs
are never out of date
but out of all the bars here
you came to this one too late
enough with the monkey business
there’s nothing more to reminisce
nothing but gin to put out these flames now,
I'd laughed if I'd remembered how
you take my talk so cheap
yet you buy it up anyway
bartering sand for my hour glass.
I’m not selling, so stray…
cloudy eyes pour on porcelain cheeks
with every scene in the same bar
ruby eyes under liquor drinks
as every shadow falls to a new star
your eyes make the moon cry
your smile made the sinners die.
this is stuff that dreams are made of
not even redemption feels this divine.
she stares and speaks
as she held my hand
her words slip though my fingers
so quickly like sand
dressed so achromatic
words so automatic
gin and whiskey has no truth;
she's was playing the sleuth.
battling bad guys day and night
running away from a twisted plight
wishing to bring you home
as your train leaves late tonight
nerves of steel all eroding
nights last call, taken and subdued
stars laden with foreboding
so here's that drink for you.
the silver lining magically glows
on the platform, you're waiting
mocking lights shifting under snow
I’m just contemplating
she turns slow to smile
and I’m caught off guard
She made it worth a while
Leaving now became too hard
airplanes passing by
siren sounds call them this way
no need for any good-bye
I’ll come back someday
those cliché bad guys are coming by
and the ground crumbles though my feet
those glossy and polished eyes
"here's to looking to you, kid."
one, two, twenty-two
I was counting sand to see you
Goes like this ‘til I die.
Only this as time goes by...
Monday, October 12, 2009
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Underrated Albums : "Bows + Arrows"
most times, the best little secrets are always kept.
but somewhere in catacombs, reveals some old treasures left behind;
this is one that should be shared.
From the corners, deep somewhere in Harlem, came five men, out from the gutters and the alleys, now walking on the sidewalks among the many. From the ashes of Jonathan Fire*Eater, the Walkmen are far too familiar with the music business, but manage to give no compromise to the fellows in charge. Piece by piece, in 2000, they used the money they had to create a reharsal space to practice and master their craft. And they started to write some songs that stood out from everyone else, a vintage feel, a sound that has been lost in an age of growing technology and the evolution of popular music. After a handful of EPs and an equally underrated debut album, "Everyone Who Pretended to Like Me Are Now Gone," the Walkmen has proudly set their masterpieces drawn in the sand, yet washed away before anyone could notice. Yet, with a handful of followers at their whim, they have yet to make a really impact on the main audience. But with heavy fustration, only welcomes ambition and effort. And on the second try, they did not dissapoint.
In 2002, at the height of the Garage Rock Revival, emerged an indie masterpiece, simply titled, "Bows + Arrows." The first track is more an introduction to all of the focused energy for the next song, which i'll get into later. "What's In It For Me" is like modern waltz about being left out from your friends and the fustration of hollow solitude. And then, like a gunshot, the energy becomes intense, with the album's gem, "The Rat." It's aggressive guitars, pounding every moment like a heartbeat moving faster and faster; violent drums marching like war, which is somehow complimented with the soothe of the background organs. Hamilton Leithauser's vocals become like a roaring ocean tide, eating up the sound as it progresses. As this could be the band's finest moment, if not already been taken up by other gems on the album, such as "Little House of Savages" or "Thinking Of A Dream I Had." "No Christmas While I'm Talking" and "138th Street" are like a heartfelt tribute to something you may never known, yet would like to twirl your candle in the dark, watching the lonely flame flicker back and forth in the purple wind. The almost silent ballad "Hang On, Siobhan," gets your at your weakest; yearing on your bed waiting to go to sleep, yet find so difficult. By the end, at the title song, its more of a reflection after what was done, but you can't help to regret. Bitter and tart, yet it hits your tongue like childhood candy, forgetting the old taste, become nostalgic as it melts in the back of your mouth. It shows a growth in the band, in comparsion to "Everyone Who Pretends...", as they become bigger and bolder for a new tide about that's about to come. They made sure you get to see work before the next tide to came in.
By the new album release, they were welcomed with high accolates and was often listed on many reviewer's best of the year lists, and consider one of the best releases this decade. The album garthered more fans, but yet still quite unknown in majority of households hold the music lover. In the indie underground, they are the silent legends of indie rock, yet still unable to break through to the public. I sometimes find it frustrated when i offer the music to my close friends, yet unable to see the beauty in the masterpiece. And as their shallow 3rd album, "A Hundred Miles Off," which was the last recording in the studio they built, failed recapture the glory of "Bows + Arrows," their latest album, "You & Me" revives its vintage sound and provide another masterpiece that proved to be darker and more shelled then previous efforts. I still believe that "Arrows" has been underrated for the more modern and electronic sounds, overshadowed by the everchanging music scene, as the Garage-Rock Revival had its time, it had passed. Somewhere beneath the sea is that buried treasure awaiting to be found, but this album keeps a safe passage to the future ahead, as it is a legend somewhere lost in time.
Friday, October 9, 2009
This Could Be Love.
Love is a wild thing, like an animal trying to break free;
Over and over again, it tries to escape as we hold on.
Venturing to all distances to find the one we’ll never let go;
Ever so, we like to believe they’re out looking for us too.
Ideally, love is the solace missing from one’s life;
Smoldering under the weight until it sparks its own light;
Guiding vessels though bitter seas, back to gentle land;
Even on the darkest days, love is a flare in an austere night.
The compassion kept in each others arms;
Time will never have its control,
It’s really so many things to try to explain;
Never could capture all of its flavors in one.
Graphically unique to those who can imagine it,
But never limited to only those rich in mind.
Life wouldn’t be breathing, as love is as vital as air;
Only a single gasp will get the soul invigorated;
Who could ever live their whole life, holding their breath?
Just for a day, in clear skies, in an overcast haze, there it will be.
On coastal shores or on rooftops, scope out to the sea and wait;
Because love will never arrive in the time or shape expected.
Simply put, the days can only be spent to marvel what love truly is…
Funny, eh?
Over and over again, it tries to escape as we hold on.
Venturing to all distances to find the one we’ll never let go;
Ever so, we like to believe they’re out looking for us too.
Ideally, love is the solace missing from one’s life;
Smoldering under the weight until it sparks its own light;
Guiding vessels though bitter seas, back to gentle land;
Even on the darkest days, love is a flare in an austere night.
The compassion kept in each others arms;
Time will never have its control,
It’s really so many things to try to explain;
Never could capture all of its flavors in one.
Graphically unique to those who can imagine it,
But never limited to only those rich in mind.
Life wouldn’t be breathing, as love is as vital as air;
Only a single gasp will get the soul invigorated;
Who could ever live their whole life, holding their breath?
Just for a day, in clear skies, in an overcast haze, there it will be.
On coastal shores or on rooftops, scope out to the sea and wait;
Because love will never arrive in the time or shape expected.
Simply put, the days can only be spent to marvel what love truly is…
Funny, eh?
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Somewhere in the Distance, I Still Wonder for It.
I think too much of it.
It continues to only bother me further,
yet, when i rid of everything about it,
it some how returns.
it stand out like the color in the eyes
out of a collage of black and gray faces
I'm so tired of it,
But it still remains in the same place.
It's like a bad joke,
off somewhere far away,
someone is laughing.
and everything remains monotone....
It continues to only bother me further,
yet, when i rid of everything about it,
it some how returns.
it stand out like the color in the eyes
out of a collage of black and gray faces
I'm so tired of it,
But it still remains in the same place.
It's like a bad joke,
off somewhere far away,
someone is laughing.
and everything remains monotone....
Monday, October 5, 2009
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Weapons on Parade.
how do you feel about your appearance?
it doesn't seem to mind me.
so, if still drown in that awful frown,
then what does the problem seem to be?
you take a while to appreciate
but in that time, don't you rush
i don't expect you to reciprocate
but the next guy makes a fuss.
pursuing the american dream
without an apartheid theme
doubter's doubt will reply
'you must a harsh life, man'
maybe open up your eyes, now
and try to see what i am.
we're the not droids, you're looking for, son
these stereotypes exist for a reason.
lets see you try to escape.
see you in 2028.
after decades beneath the floor
and many years in scattered attics
a handful become druggie addics,
and the others bow in silence
as their masters in the castles
speak the voice of treason
i wonder in great doubt
if there's a moral reason
all stretched out claiming for relief
disarming nothing but our beliefs
you know i'm fighting for a cause
and we well be overcoming all those walls
the soldiers parade with metal in arms
i am ready, i am ready for it all
it's the punishment that makes you famous
but make sure you just don't blame us
I wonder if we'll ever escape..
see you in 2028.
it doesn't seem to mind me.
so, if still drown in that awful frown,
then what does the problem seem to be?
you take a while to appreciate
but in that time, don't you rush
i don't expect you to reciprocate
but the next guy makes a fuss.
pursuing the american dream
without an apartheid theme
doubter's doubt will reply
'you must a harsh life, man'
maybe open up your eyes, now
and try to see what i am.
we're the not droids, you're looking for, son
these stereotypes exist for a reason.
lets see you try to escape.
see you in 2028.
after decades beneath the floor
and many years in scattered attics
a handful become druggie addics,
and the others bow in silence
as their masters in the castles
speak the voice of treason
i wonder in great doubt
if there's a moral reason
all stretched out claiming for relief
disarming nothing but our beliefs
you know i'm fighting for a cause
and we well be overcoming all those walls
the soldiers parade with metal in arms
i am ready, i am ready for it all
it's the punishment that makes you famous
but make sure you just don't blame us
I wonder if we'll ever escape..
see you in 2028.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Underrated Albums : "You & I"
Oh, the world we only know beneath our feet.
The one that seems that makes sweet music for our tappin' souls.
These boys seem to do it right, some how...
Cut Off Your Hands seem to do just about that. This New Zealand 5-piece band (formerly a 4-piece. I miss the ol' guitarist) easily create their shiny indie sound, with sugarsweet and lovible guitars, vocals with howling lollypop echoes, an atmosphere so cheery and delightful like a Willy Wonka factory, yet once you take your first bit, your met with bittersweet lyrics for a long lost lover and long lost nostalgia of childhood memories of the girl you grew up with. When i first went to the record store to buy their album, You & I, i didn't really know anything about them; no expectation no idea what i'd get myself into at $12.99. It was something unexpected of me to do it, at the risk of buying something good, great, or something that I'll just keep in the back of all my cds, never to see again. Thank god, that i happen to be writing about this particular cd right now.
When i first pop in the cd into my computer, i get the welcome mat with "Happy As Can Be" with roaring echoes, war chanting drums, that could really seen as a melodramtic orchestra and when the vocals came at me, it got my attention that this band could really break out into the mainstreams. The next song, "Expectations" hard-hitting guitars, with lyrics a little less forgiving, but quite charming. After the groups first single, "Oh Girl" it seems that the album has reached its highest peak, but the real song that really broke out, was "Turn Cold" as it was like playing in the snow, as even though its ment to make your heart shiver in the cold, still you want to stay as long out because its really fun once your get into it. It's Stroke-ish guitars and a music video that's both playful and crafty, its one of those few songs where you actually want to dance when its trying to make you feel down. From there, the tension slows down, as the upbeat but overlooked "It Doesn't Matter" + the aching ballad "Heartbreak." After that, the album loses its beat for a while, as its seems both lost in religion and clubhopping. But suddenly, the listener reaches its peak again, as the sound becomes as delight and as heartfelt as it has on the entire album. "Still Fond" is probably my favorite song on the album as the riffs mirrors early Johnny Marr/ Smiths' riffs, with lush vocals and lyrics that suggest that even if your lover is far gone that one day you dream again that they will come back to you, with the words, "I'm still fond for you." The rest of the album goes back down and returns to slumber, where it once began, as in this stand point, this album as a feel of rise in the morning, enchanted by the evening dreams, and slowly builds during the day, until being wisked away into the night.
Produced by the uber-talented Bernard Butler, the album was release in 2008 + a tour around the western hemisphere, participating in such events like SXSW and touring with Foals up the Mississippi. Even though that got some pretty good review, still they didn't get the popularity they recieved in their native New Zealand or its close brother Australia. Still, these days its hard to find an album with two or three really good songs, yet Cut Off Your Hands were able to have an album with a handful of songs that don't go below the damn good level. By the next year, they are hoping to finish and release their 2nd album, and if that goes overlooked like the first, then by god, i'm really gonna cut off my hands. (^-^)
The one that seems that makes sweet music for our tappin' souls.
These boys seem to do it right, some how...
Cut Off Your Hands seem to do just about that. This New Zealand 5-piece band (formerly a 4-piece. I miss the ol' guitarist) easily create their shiny indie sound, with sugarsweet and lovible guitars, vocals with howling lollypop echoes, an atmosphere so cheery and delightful like a Willy Wonka factory, yet once you take your first bit, your met with bittersweet lyrics for a long lost lover and long lost nostalgia of childhood memories of the girl you grew up with. When i first went to the record store to buy their album, You & I, i didn't really know anything about them; no expectation no idea what i'd get myself into at $12.99. It was something unexpected of me to do it, at the risk of buying something good, great, or something that I'll just keep in the back of all my cds, never to see again. Thank god, that i happen to be writing about this particular cd right now.
When i first pop in the cd into my computer, i get the welcome mat with "Happy As Can Be" with roaring echoes, war chanting drums, that could really seen as a melodramtic orchestra and when the vocals came at me, it got my attention that this band could really break out into the mainstreams. The next song, "Expectations" hard-hitting guitars, with lyrics a little less forgiving, but quite charming. After the groups first single, "Oh Girl" it seems that the album has reached its highest peak, but the real song that really broke out, was "Turn Cold" as it was like playing in the snow, as even though its ment to make your heart shiver in the cold, still you want to stay as long out because its really fun once your get into it. It's Stroke-ish guitars and a music video that's both playful and crafty, its one of those few songs where you actually want to dance when its trying to make you feel down. From there, the tension slows down, as the upbeat but overlooked "It Doesn't Matter" + the aching ballad "Heartbreak." After that, the album loses its beat for a while, as its seems both lost in religion and clubhopping. But suddenly, the listener reaches its peak again, as the sound becomes as delight and as heartfelt as it has on the entire album. "Still Fond" is probably my favorite song on the album as the riffs mirrors early Johnny Marr/ Smiths' riffs, with lush vocals and lyrics that suggest that even if your lover is far gone that one day you dream again that they will come back to you, with the words, "I'm still fond for you." The rest of the album goes back down and returns to slumber, where it once began, as in this stand point, this album as a feel of rise in the morning, enchanted by the evening dreams, and slowly builds during the day, until being wisked away into the night.
Produced by the uber-talented Bernard Butler, the album was release in 2008 + a tour around the western hemisphere, participating in such events like SXSW and touring with Foals up the Mississippi. Even though that got some pretty good review, still they didn't get the popularity they recieved in their native New Zealand or its close brother Australia. Still, these days its hard to find an album with two or three really good songs, yet Cut Off Your Hands were able to have an album with a handful of songs that don't go below the damn good level. By the next year, they are hoping to finish and release their 2nd album, and if that goes overlooked like the first, then by god, i'm really gonna cut off my hands. (^-^)
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Better Late Then Never.
Shalom to you, the reader!
You found my hole-in-the-wall blog.
I don't think we had a proper introduction with each other yet. I call this blog the “White Lands” as it is the term I give where all of my ideas come from, and it is the title of one of the first things I’ve ever wrote. I moved over from myspace, as myspace is dead and blogspot is more known blog community (from now on, that term will be considered ‘bloggy’). I don’t do this for viewership or to get money out of adware or what not, I just do it to get my thoughts out. Usually in this social disaster of a society where one’s opinion are snubbed from socially aggressive douche bags, stuck-up cold-hearted bitches, or those who ultimately write you off because of physical or social appearances. I believe in the underdog, and those who hear it howl.
This is my little part of the internet where I get to say my belief + opinions + some third thing, and you the reader submit your opinion, or the much preferred, “Shut up, and listen” technique. Sometimes their will be some poetry writings, some stories, maybe a video or two, some short paragraphs about beliefs, music, current events, and what not. I’m not here to shove these things down your throat, but just consider it though your unique perspective.
I only do my best not to offend anyone (or at least on purpose), or put down anyone or anything, but just to put up of my work, good quality, yeah, yeah, yeah. This is an experiment, a temperament, and nothing counterfeit. Welcome to the White Lands. Enjoy.
Sorry, no downloads here.
So, go look for another blog for that.
You found my hole-in-the-wall blog.
I don't think we had a proper introduction with each other yet. I call this blog the “White Lands” as it is the term I give where all of my ideas come from, and it is the title of one of the first things I’ve ever wrote. I moved over from myspace, as myspace is dead and blogspot is more known blog community (from now on, that term will be considered ‘bloggy’). I don’t do this for viewership or to get money out of adware or what not, I just do it to get my thoughts out. Usually in this social disaster of a society where one’s opinion are snubbed from socially aggressive douche bags, stuck-up cold-hearted bitches, or those who ultimately write you off because of physical or social appearances. I believe in the underdog, and those who hear it howl.
This is my little part of the internet where I get to say my belief + opinions + some third thing, and you the reader submit your opinion, or the much preferred, “Shut up, and listen” technique. Sometimes their will be some poetry writings, some stories, maybe a video or two, some short paragraphs about beliefs, music, current events, and what not. I’m not here to shove these things down your throat, but just consider it though your unique perspective.
I only do my best not to offend anyone (or at least on purpose), or put down anyone or anything, but just to put up of my work, good quality, yeah, yeah, yeah. This is an experiment, a temperament, and nothing counterfeit. Welcome to the White Lands. Enjoy.
Sorry, no downloads here.
So, go look for another blog for that.
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