Magic Dirt: Babycakes you Always Freeze me up

One listen. A bit tough this one, but it also felt like it went by really quickly. I don’t think I captured the song as well as I could have. It’s an intense, unnerving bit of music, but describing it as such undersells it. Oh well.

Magic Dirt’s “Babycakes you Always Freeze me up” is from Young and Full of the Devil.

I hope you enjoy.

From silence a sound grows and crackles. It moves and wavers and pulses, and it moves in familiar, yet strange ways. As it continues its motion, other sounds come into play. The sounds move slow. They move eerily. Quiet, lurking almost. Slowly forming, slowly gaining mass.

A frame starts forming in the noise and sounds are attracted to it. They draw closer and closer, and eventually they take the last step and everything is there. Everything is roaring and raging, cutting through, grinding… everything is heavy and full and noisy. A thick, heaving fug engulfs everything. It fills the space and crashes and smothers, and eventually relents a little.

The sounds still drive forward as parts stretch and contort, and interweave in and out, and something spirals out and distorts, and eventually that mass takes over once more.

There’s thrust and pull and howls and screams, and it seems within it all there’s a romance smothered by darkness; by dread and menace and terror, and maybe there’s something that’s familiar and welcoming, too. Maybe something inevitable as the mass seems suspended, holding as it expands and crashes and engulfs everything. The noise, desperate, unrelenting… and eventually it lifts and the percussion seems to slow and the other instruments drag on. The only lyric is uttered: “You always freeze me up”, and then all that remains is that initial sound disappearing into silence, and the song ends.

Posted in Music | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Questions for the Morning

I’ve five minutes to spare and I get to sit here and wait for my building to open once more. Have an idea for a bit of fiction but I need to wait as it might take a while. Why not start now? Why not just get it underway? I don’t want to be interrupted.

I’m still listening to Talk talk, though that mostly has to do with enjoying the music that they made, and it’s a quiet morning. A loud morning, but a quiet morning. No music being played behind me, and that’s good. I quote like that.

I’ve eaten and I’m waiting, and in a way I’m waiting for this space to come to its end. Can’t force it. Could stop it now, but that’d be less enjoyable for me. That wouldn’t be in the spirit of things.

Light fulls the area and yet this area remains darkened. This area remains caged in shade, and that helps keep it cool. However, I have to wonder as to how warm these seats get on a hot day. These seats are metal. They feel heavy and durable. They feel like the kind of thing that takes in heat and refuses to let go. I feel like I am, in a way, refusing to let go. However, I will. I said I would and, even though I don’t have to, I do want to. I want to let go and move on, and soon that will happen. Soon I will be able to walk away, and I’ll be happy with that, regardless of how hard it will be.

More noise comes in. The area is waking up. The traffic has grown quiet. This is nice. This is enjoyable. I like this. Good times. Great times, even. Quiet, alone times. Left with my thoughts, my coffee and my rubbish. Left with myself. Time for thinking, or something.

And the traffic picks back up and soon I am to get up and go upstairs. Soon I will sit down and write some more and then I’ll get on with the day. I’ll get on with the getting of the on. I will do my work and then I’ll go home and work some more. That’s what I do. And this morning will be a memory I probably won’t remember. It’ll be part of a tapestry that is crowded and has so much more to have woven into it. And that’s beautiful in a way. It’s also meaningless piffle, but it’s beautiful to me, and it doesn’t really matter outside of this bit of writing.

We craft our lives so easily and thread through so many things into a singular experience, and at the end of it all we remember so much and so little. And what do we leave behind? What is our legacy? What does it even matter? So long as we lived a good life and helped others and tried to leave the planet in a better state than it was in when we started, how much does any of the rest of it matter?

I don’t know and I don’t pretend to know. I just hope and think about these things in a rather surface way, and I try to live in a healthier way than I did yesterday. And I hope that, at the end of it all, I’ll leave things a little better than they were when I was born.

Posted in Life | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A bit of Wall and Sky

I took this photo yesterday afternoon shortly after I got home from work. I wanted to capture part of my place’s wall with the sky in it, but I couldn’t at the angle I wanted as there were too many other things visible if I did. I wanted to go for simple, so I had to go for a more severe angle to get what I wanted, which is the below result.

This photo could be seen as having two walls, depending on what you want to consider a wall. Obviously the wall itself, but there’s also the sky, which (along with being viewable as many other things), can be seen as a wall of sorts.

This is my submission into Leanne Cole‘s “Monochrome Madness” for this week. Margaret of From Pyrenees to Penines hosts this one, and she has chosen the theme of “Walls”.

This challenge is open to all, and I recommend joining in. If want to, check out more information about it here, and include the tag “monochrome-madness” when you share your photo. If you’d prefer not to join in, then at the least check out Leanne’s photography, and what other people submit.

I hope you enjoy.

Posted in Photography | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

C418: Subwoofer Lullaby

One listen and another where I was able to throw myself into the writing. There were a few points of struggle, but I think I did alright in representing the song well enough.

C418’s “Subwoofer Lullaby” is from Minecraft – Volume Alpha, an album comprised of songs used in Minecraft.

I hope you enjoy.

Relaxing sounds. Reducing stress, embracing calm. Embracing the slow, the calm. Looking at taking it easy and going wherever, letting come what may. Those sounds dance around a space that doesn’t seem threatening. That doesn’t seem hostile, and those sounds suddenly pull away.

A flat plane, a wider space, where everything seems small and simple, and dreams drift and waft away, off to somewhere. Off to nowhere in particular, carried by the winds, spreading out, finding new places to plant and grow.

The keys that kicked it off come back and play more gently than before. A bit of strings draw long and those dreams come back after their journey, and everything continues on relaxed. Everything is easy and drifts, and the skies aren’t clear but they’re peaceful and pleasant, and the sounds draw to a pulsing close at the song’s end.

Posted in Music | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Andy Summers: A Piece of Time

One listen.

A while ago I listened to the album this song is from and I didn’t find myself getting into it. However, I didn’t get rid of it and instead put it to the side.

I heard a bit of “A Piece of Time” for the first time in a while a few days ago and decided to write about it, hammered it out yesterday, and below is the result. I’m surprised I wrote as much as I did, and I’m glad I did, too.

Whilst I wrote I found themes of memory and loss coming to me. There also was the passage of time and ow things change whether we want them to or not. These are probably obvious, but I felt it worth mentioning.

Andy Summers’ “A Piece of time” is from The Golden Wire.

I hope you enjoy.

A gentle beat kicks in. It has a pulse and it flows, and soon guitar rises up in brief bits. Synth seems to draw long and emotive, and builds an atmosphere. Indeed, this is all a build. It’s building to something, and more percussion here and there, but it remains gentle. Almost like controlled, paced breathing.

The space grows richer in sound. It expands. It widens and deepens, and there could be reflection in this. Something introspective. Thinking of moments as more guitar comes in and rings out also though ripples, as though rain increasing in its thickness, and it disappears. Or doesn’t.

A new sound appears, sort of busy, sort of not, and the percussion increases. It strikes out and strikes loudly, its shape changing. Other sound wafts around and fills out, and some guitar flickers and rises up. And down. It is disconnected and comes in parts, and the sounds grow heavier as the guitar continues its rises and falls. It continues to race, flashing on by.

A return to the main melody and the beat is different once more. That reflection and introspection grows deeper, and there could be something mournful in this. There could be something happy, though coloured by a heaviness.

That guitar that rung out and rippled returns, and it carries something more overtly joyous in it whilst it lasts.

Soon back to the weight, back to the inevitability of time, and how it leaves memories of full experiences to flash on by in an instant. What changes over time, what is left behind. What is gained, and how things change. A dire moment may be just a moment, and may not carry much of anything beyond that initial feeling.

Guitar plays out, plays rapidly. It plays fast and seems to wail. It seems to be searching and looking, and maybe it finds a connection or thread that it feels the need to chase after. In all this emotion, it finds what it seeks, and it goes after it the best it can, and it continues as everything fades away and the song ends.

Posted in Music | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

One Thousand Word Challenge 248: There’s Always Room for Disappointment

So I’m writing again as I was a bit disappointed in the speed in which I got the last bit of rambling done. I want to write faster and that slow speed just will not do. However, I’m already lagging behind. Maybe I’ve listened to too much relaxed music today. I don’t know. Anyway, I’m writing purely for speed and I’m going at a steady click which is great.However, I am going slow, which is not great. I have no idea as to how many words I’ve already written but I cannot stop as if I do, that’ll take time and time is not what I want to take… even though I’m taking time to do do this and taking your time as you’re reading this.

I’m not good at this stuff.

Still, I have to wonder as to how I am taking time. I have to also wonder as to how I’m giving time. I think about that some of the time and to all of the time. Time is a word I also say a lot.

Time

So anyway, I’m writing. I am communicating and through this is a form of expression. It is an expression of nothing in particular. I write and I’m in an office and all is quiet and that’s okay. Things are good and flowing well, and I’m relaxed. I’m not stressed. Just in a significant amount of pain but it’s getting better. That’s life. So it goes and such it is. And I sit here and I wonder as to what I am doing with my life. I wonder where the meaning comes from interfacing with a computer in order to press buttons and send notes and fix things comes from.

Is it from the action? Is it from being a participant in society, where there are many holes to fill and few people ever seem to fit into any of them? How does my sense of self fit into this? When I press these buttons, what am I furthering? I have questions and this isn’t the place to ask them, but I am asking them. But I keep on going as there are tasks that need doing and that is what has been requested of me.

In the successful completion of these tasks I am provided an income and I can spend it as I see fit, and a lot of that expenditure goes to survival. Funny how that happens. Funny how little things change. The more things change the more they stay the same or so some people think, though there definitely are circular patterns in life and it seems they are inescapable. We just need to make the most of what we can where we can and how we can if we are to see some sort of success within this continual going around the drain but never quiet going down it to something new.

So what am I saying, anyway? Where am I going with this? What purpose is a life if it is lived only for work? Of course I can say that, but am I not also working when I am not working? When I write, am I not working? Am I not staying in a continuous state of processes and doing things when I work on music or a drawing, or a photo? Does work ever stop?

Is the work of the office grey, and is that why we consider work outside of the office – work that we enjoy – much more varied and coloured? Is it solely to do with how we associate drudgery and lack of imagination? There’s a lot of imagination in the office space, and I think this goes ignored more often than it should. Still, there’s a difference between being in a place that often feels cold, regardless of how warm its inhabitants are, and a place where we usually associate with safety and comfort and warmth.

There is a good chance a lot of us associate positive qualities in areas more dangerous than offices and still see offices as being unimaginative, uncreative places that don’t provide comfort or some sort of ease and relaxation simply because we work there and complete obligations for money, whereas in more dangerous spaces, we are there far more willingly and are relaxing in them, so therefore are considered safer and more protective. Either that or we recognise the dangers, but the pressure is different and less oppressive in a way… not that I’m in an oppressive space, but you know. You get the idea.

Maybe it’s in the architecture. Maybe even if we are impressed by where we work, there’s still something in the back of our minds tellings us that a space is hostile to living, even if it is not. Even in the most comfortable of spaces, if we have to work for an income in them, then perhaps we inherently see them as bad and dangours and uncomfortable, and not good for the brain. I wish I knew if this was the case or not, but I don’t. This is not something I know anything about. I can only guess and hope that it leads to me thinking and looking more into it. I have been in my fair share of hostile spaces, however but those were quite obviously hostile. But now I’m not. I’m in a healthier office space now.

So… yeah. The day continues, I continue writing and I continue doing the things that I’m doing. I keep getting through it all, whatever it all is of course, and I’m still writing away. I’m trying to get this done at a speed I’m happy with and I don’t think I will. There’s always room for disappointment and I’m quite good at disappointing myself. Therefore I will continue to do this, but at least I can say I did it my way. I can disappoint myself with my thoughts and I can disappoint myself with my words. But they’re all mine.

The time it took to write one thousand words: 12:08:28

Went very surface philosophical for some reason. Not sure why. Did it at a decent speed, though.

Written at work.

Posted in Life | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

One Thousand Word Challenge 247: Hearing a Familiar Album Differently

I can already feel that I am running out of things to say today, though I haven’t said much of anything. I feel a stress in my trying to write, and I feel a tension in my gripping onto whatever I can. However, there still remains plenty to be said, and today I think I’m going to try and go the distance. A lot of distance still to go, however. But I am going to try.

Last night I spent a rather inordinate amount of time hunting for a different version of one of my favourite albums. Realistically, it was the right amount of time. It did feel excessive, however. But it was worth it.

I’m talking about Talk Talk’s “Laughing Stock.

So the version I have, which is the version I imagine a lot of people have, has two of the songs overlap with another. The first is with a brief snippet of the end of “Ascension Day” at the start of “After the Flood”, which, if you’re listening to the latter on its own, leads to it having this really harsh tiny bit of sound that really harms the start of the piece. The second is “Taphead” starting whilst “After the flood” is ending, which is pleasant, don’t get me wrong. It helps create this sense of continuation, as though the songs should be viewed as one piece, but my issue with it is that “After the Flood” doesn’t get to stand on its own, and it’s my favourite song on Laughing Stock, so I want to hear it unencumbered.

And now I can.

So the version of “After the Flood” I had (and still have) is the version I’m most familiar with, and the one I got used to. I got used to that harsh bit of noise, and I got used to “Taphead” being there at the end. And then I found out that there was a version where the songs were more segmented, and I forgot or missed it, and then I realised last night again. I think. I’m not sure what exactly happened, but I ended up going on a hunt last night for the segmented version of Laughing Stock, and I found it.

This search took a while. It took a lot of time and it’s time I’m not getting back. There were other things I needed to take care of but I didn’t, and now I’m here writing about it. I was also worried about that search affecting my sleep. You know, when you end up invested too heavily into something and you need to start getting ready for bed that, by the time you stop and detach, you’re still wound up from whatever it was that you were doing that you don’t have time to settle and so it takes longer to fall asleep. That thing. That’s the thing that I was worried about. Somehow avoided it, though, so I’m happy about that.

But I dug around and acquired myself multiple versions of “After the Flood” to see who had the version I was after. I had to do a lot of searching as most of what I was coming across still had a smidgen of “Ascension Day” at the end. Sure, I could have edited it off, but this I didn’t want to do. I wanted to have the songs as they were; without cutting and reattaching and all that stuff. So I kept on searching. I kept on digging.

It was quite obsessive, this search, but it did end up proving fruitful. I found a version that was its own song, and I listened to its start, and it felt weird. It felt odd to have it clean. I checked the ending, heard no overlap, went back to listening to the start.

The way “After the Flood” started felt a bit too sudden to me, and I know it was due to not being what I was used to. It still felt wrong, however. For a little while. Eventually it sunk in and I got the rest of the album, and I was happy. I was happy to have a different version of Laughing Stock as it meant I could hear it in a different way.

I’m listening to Laughing Stock right now and I’m enjoying it. Or rather, I’m experiencing it, believing I’m connecting with it. I’m hearing it in a different way, and it remains immersive to me. It’s still saying something to me, and maybe it’s saying it better.

I do like me a good bit of continuous music, but sometimes I prefer continuous pieces to be disconnected. So long as that thematic connection is still there, then does it matter? I don’t know. This is just sometimes how I prefer to hear some things. Sometimes I prefer other ways of hearing. Of listening and experiencing. For Laughing Stock, I prefer the former as the pieces seem to connect without being connected. They flow into each other without that overlap, but they allow themselves to be viewed individually and you get all these different tones and varying colours and shapes, and textures too. You hear all these varying moods, and it continues on until its end, finding fullness, finding sparseness and finding rest.

So I’m here, at work, enjoying Talk Talk and I’m finding myself running out of things to say, and in a way I’m glad because I get to sit here and write and think more about an album I like. It’s an album that still feels mysterious to me as it has so much to offer. It’s an album of music in the truest sense, and it carries itself well, after all of these years.

Right now it enters my ears, and I’m hearing things I haven’t heard before. I’m still getting things from it. How lucky am I? How good is this? How often does someone get to say they’re hearing something on one of their favourite records that they hadn’t before?

The time it took to write one thousand words: 17:51:45

Bit slower than I hoped and perhaps I relied on repetition a bit too much. I had to think a bit more for this one and that thinking works, but this could’ve been a shorter thing.

Written at work.

Posted in Music | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Five-Hundred Word Challenge 1571: Intense, yet Respectful Conversation

Imagine being confronted by an intense, yet respectful conversation, and it’s not one that you’re part of, but still one you have to hear as you don’t want to get up and walk away as it might make the whole thing super awkward.

I just had to turn into someone that didn’t exist, and it was odd. It was weird. It was uncomfortable. I just had to hear this whole thing about concerns in the workplace between two people, and there definitely was some reassurance which was great, but it was not something I ever wanted to be privy to.

And I know I could have just walked away, but as I said, I didn’t. It would’ve made the thing awkward. I had to pretend that I couldn’t hear it, but by golly could I hear it.

So I turned into furniture. I turned into a background object made for just decoration, and I don’t think it worked, but the conversation continued on. They kept talking about they felt they had to talk about, so that was good, at least. But I had to hear it all. I had to hear it and I felt some pain from it, because it was just this awkward, stressed conversation about reassurance and perhaps some remorse of action in there, too. But it seems like it was all okay in the end. Or maybe it didn’t, but at least there was confirmation of further action and steps to take and all of that stuff.

I’m sitting here and I never thought this would be something I’d end up exposed to, and I have to wonder what the thinking was when it came to where to have this conversation. They would’ve seen that I was here. they would’ve known that I was doing my thing, and they still chose to have it here. And sure, I became nothing. I became something not worthy of attention, but I still was here. I could still here the whole thing among the sounds I was experiencing, and that’s what I didn’t want to have. But they did it, I heard it, and now I’m here writing about it.

The space of the office and its participants are always interesting, but also not something I want to be part of when it comes to the politics. Of course it’s difficult not to, but this is something that really does not concern me, and yet now I am spectator. I cannot be camouflaged among the furniture. I cannot be inanimate and I cannot be unknowing now. However, of course none of it is my business and the chances are I’ll forget about it come the end of the day… assuming I even remember for that long.

At the very least, right now I am knowing and that’s not what I want to be. However, I have to be and I have to accept my role as spectator, despite my attention set elsewhere. A terrible burden to carry with me.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:03:81

Bit faster than the last, and continuing my process of writing things not worth writing about.

Written at work.

Posted in Life | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Supercar: Time

One listen.

I’m feeling as though I’m on a roll at the moment so I went into this and just banged it out. Little active thinking, just got it done. Made the writing really easy to get through, and I feel good about it. I don’t know how well it represents the song, but I’m happy with the result.

Supercar’s “Time” is from Answer.

I hope you enjoy.

Something tiny. Something on its own. Just perceptible. Keys come in and keys play a pleasant pattern. A warm pattern. They play firmly and with space, and soon they start cascading down, shining in the light they capture in their pieces.

A gentle voice follows in steps and finds itself punctuated by the keys, and something swirls in the background. A noise, building but also seemingly never growing. A shoreline upon the brackets between sounds, from which more steps come forward.

Those steps tick percussively, and they keep moving when the vocals return. The vocals returned with a little fragile sound behind them, and the vocals themselves are doubled and echoing. When they stop a new pattern emerges in the keys, and it feels playful. It could be forgiving, and it could be a big hug; a wrapping in the arms, of warm embrace. Of a sadness but a continuing on, and a remembering of everything that has been, and looking fondly.

Those keys disappear and it seems like everything is walking away. It seems like everything is moving away, out of view as all keeps heading forward. Everything is moving to a point where it will disappear, and the steps remain. The steps of a ticking clock, left there, ticking away. Nothing left but the sound. Nothing left but the indicator of time, until it too stops, leaving silence at the song’s end.

Posted in Music | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Supercar: Last Scene

One listen, and this one was another that was both difficult and easy. I felt some conflict about what I was writing, as though I felt on the right track and then felt I wasn’t and had to course correct. It was odd. Regardless, the result works well for the song.

Supercar’s “Last Scene” is from Answer.

I hope you enjoy.

Percussive strikes lead to a pleasant beat and a gentle, floating feel. The bass seems to grab and glide along with the way the sounds drift, and when the vocals come in, they seem to come in and out as much as they seem to continue on. Almost as though bits and pieces coming into view.

The sounds all dip and the vocals remain as gentle as the sounds, and they keep moving with their spaciousness. They carry pleasant and emotive, and they soon return to the verse.

Something a bit more doleful seems to reveal itself. Perhaps an unwillingness to relent and let go. There’s an emotional thrust and the vocals seem a bit more detached, or losing attachment.

The chorus returns with comfort and pleasantries among the sadness, and when it comes to an end the melody changes shape. It seems more overwhelming, and it seems a little happy, though also bitter. Bitter and rough, and hurting, but happy. Happy and joyous.

The main melody returns and continues its floating. It continues its emotional mass floating there, floating along, and the vocals drift along with that mass. They drift along and watch at the same time. There’s something glowing here, too, and it seems almost overwhelming. It’s comforting, but it’s hard. It’s difficult, but there’s that warmth in there, and it fades with everything as the song ends.

Posted in Music | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment