So, anyone who is actually looking at this… go to http://www.foreverstumbling.wordpress.com. That’s where I’m blogging from now, and it is so much nicer than this one. Also, the name is better. Anyways, go there. (And yes, I copied and pasted some of the posts from here. Shoot me.)
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Anyways, I don’t know if their is anyone who reads this on a regular basis, but just so you know, I will get back to posting stuff regularly by this time next week. I also have a bunch of newish albums, and some older ones that are new to me, so I’ll review those and post some stuff about that too. Right now, we’re coming towards the end of the semester and exams, and I’m dying underneath an enormous heap of English, History, and Chemistry homework. Plus Drama. Who knew drama could be a course that would end up taking so much time and effort? I just took it because I thought it would be easy, serves me right.
I have not died… I am just living under a rock and with absolutely no life right now.
Peace and love, Gillian.
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Let me start this off by stating that I have pride in my (sometimes) picky and selective musical taste. I tend towards stuff that is a little more understated, with notable exceptions like Arcade Fire and, ahem, Muse. But those bands are still cool, right… whatever, my inner hipster and inner partier are waging a war in my head right now, but I will just spit it out.
I love My Chemical Romance.
I have since I was twelve, when I “discovered” them on YouTube. At the time, it was interesting and exotic, strange compared to the typical Avril Lavigne/Simple Plan diet that I had been on for the past two years. And to be fair to myself, it was their first album that I got into really hardcore, and the transition from teen-pop to that quasi-screamo type thing was pretty drastic. Let’s just say my mom hated it.
So I got into them really hardcore. I listened to their music all the time (or at least their first two albums.) I tried to wear all black for about a month before I realized that it was July and that is hard to pull off in sweltering heat. I crushed endlessly on Gerard and Frank, and will admit that I spent a couple of days reading all the Frerard fanfic that I could find online. The thing is that I had – and still have – grown up in conservative small towns, and they seemed dangerous and bad, yet at the same time ultimately loving and accepting. My Chemical Romance (I refuse to use acronyms) is a band made up of misfits, for misfits, and for a while, I felt like they were my haven from all the kids (and my parents) who thought that I was an antisocial, overly sensitive weirdo. I was devoted to them for a glorious year and a half, and my devotion reached its zenith with my discovery of The Black Parade.
This was My Chemical Romance at their most over-dramatic, campy, self-indulgent best. I had spent weeks before I bought it reading about the album online, and as soon as I got home from the music store I ran to my bedroom and stuck the CD in. (Just remember, I didn’t listen to “real” music before this. Teen pop was all. I had never even heard of concept albums, I had never heard songs longer than 3 or 4 minutes, and I was basically just sadly unaware of this shit.)
The first seconds of “The End” were such a revelation. It was like what they had done before, but at the same time, it wasn’t. With their other songs, it was like a story within a song, but this was just an introduction to the story of a messed up, tortured man. I sat there, in stunned silence, listening as they howled “So throw on the black dress/mix in with the lot/you might wake up and notice you’re someone you’re not.” Although I didn’t realize it at the time, it’s a very clever reference to many of the kids who were in their fan base, and how easy it is to lose yourself in the culture of, hate to use this word but, emo, a subculture based on non-conformity that somehow ended up becoming one of the most conformist of all.
And then of course, there is “Dead!”, that exhilaratingly childish romp that culminates in a chorus of, guess what, la la las. Maybe I am making this up and reading too far into the lines, but the more times you listen to this album the more you realize how well many of the lines and much of the musical context shows elements of self-parody, and a little bit of humorous self-awareness that was slightly lacking in their earlier, still very good, work.
“This Is How I Disappear” is more in line with their earlier work. (How I disappear, conformity, more self-parody? Whoa… the more I look, the more I see. My English teacher would be proud.) Anyway, there is not much that I can say about it, except that it exemplifies the quintessential My Chemical Romance song: lyrics that can be applied to a number of situations, usually involving love and loss, and of course, that raging chorus. It just makes me want to thrash my head now, but when I first heard it, I was scared. “The Sharpest Lives” is another chorus typical of them, but is a bit creepier because of the hushed, semi-singing at the beginning. This has always been one of my favourites off the album, and in my opinion it should have been one of the singles, maybe in place of “Famous Last Words.”
If the other parts of the album were unlike stuff I had heard before, then “Welcome to the Black Parade” was completely alien – a three part, semi rock-opera song with a dramatic message and desolate cast of characters. I didn’t get the Queen references back then, but now I am shocked at the similarities. The Pink Floyd comparisons always seemed a bit weak to me, but Queen is definitely an enormous influence, and perhaps one of the sole ones, on this album. When they launch into the third section, it brings such exhilaration… one of those moments that makes you want to stand with the wind in your hair and shout this at the top of your lungs. This is what they’re good at; fuck coolness, they write anthems.
Since it is getting late, I am not going to delve so deep into the second half of the album, but I’ll give some highlights. “I Don’t Love You” is the first (and perhaps last) power ballad that they have ever done, but it is a successful experiment, if not one of their better songs. “House of Wolves” is one of the highlights of the album, a completely raucous, blues tinged howler that has one of their most exhilarating sing-a-long choruses (and I think I’ve touched on their skill with sing-a-long choruses): “Tell me I’m a bad man, kick me like a stray, tell me I’m an angel, take this to your grave… s-i-n I s-i-n.” “Cancer” is a touching, but sometimes obnoxious tale of loss to… guess what, cancer? Only Gerard Way could come close to pulling off a line like “Baby, I’m just soggy from the chemo”. Even with him, it sounds a bit much, but imagine with someone else…
“Mama” was another one of my listening revelations, with its slightly cabaret tinged rocking whatever the hell that is, and its enormously overblown chorus. That Liza Minelli cameo too, honestly, sheer genius. “Sleep” feels a bit boring following it, but is a good song in its own right; I’ve just never much cared for it, compared to the other songs on the album. “Teenagers” is just sheer fun, an uncomplicated song to sing along to, and one of the more throwback rock s0ngs on the album, featuring a beautifully integrated guitar solo. “Famous Last Words”, while I loved it initially, is one of those songs that I have grown to care for less and less over the years… yes, it does sum up their concept perfectly, but it feels like it was written specifically for that purpose, and so comes off a bit pretentious. Just one of those songs that screams “This wants to be an anthem” and then doesn’t work as well as some of the songs that just don’t try as hard. Still a good song, but I have my issues with it.
If there is any doubt of the element of self-parody within this album, it cannot be denied when it comes to the hidden track at the end of the album, where a piano and Gerard warble about blood (“Gallons of the stuff”) and basically makes light of everything they did within the album. This was for all the haters who laughed at My Chemical Romance, called them try-hards with no senses of humor. The haters were proved wrong, and this catchy ditty was born.
So, anyway, it is late at night. As you can tell, my energy levels fell apart towards the end, and there is much homework that went undone because of this post, but I hope any My Chemical Romance fans out there enjoyed it, because I thoroughly love this album. Outcasts unite!
Peace and love, Gillian
Posted in Music
Tagged album review, gerard way, mcr, music, my chem, my chemical romance, review, the black parade, welcome to the black parade
To say that I absolutely love the work of PJ Harvey is an understatement. I worship her. There has not been one album by her that I have not loved, although I still have my favourites. With her, it seems like every time she switches things up, reinvents herself, and yet every single time she hits the nail right on the head, perfectly captures the feeling and sound that she was aiming for. The first album I ever heard by her was Stories from the City, Stories From the Sea, her exploration of a more mainstream, pop sound that she pulled off while still retaining that unexplainable trace of P.J.-ness that runs throughout her entire body of work. But that album is not what I am here to talk about; I am here to talk about her gorgeous masterpiece, 1995’s To Bring You My Love.
This was different from most of what she had done before. Her debut album, Dry, and follow-up, the magnificent Rid of Me had a harsher, more confrontational, and if not angry, at least defiant sound to them. Part of the reason that there was this gap between her first two albums and To Bring You My Love was probably because of the change in the way that she worked; for the first two, PJ Harvey was the name of her three-part band, but by the time she was making this album, they had split up and she was working on her own.
Where parts of the other albums sounded crowded and noisy, there are chunks of space left all over this album, which creates a desolate, sparse soundscape, offering the perfect vehicle to Polly’s haunted voice, and matching the two main themes in this album: love, and loss. When she begins the “Do you know if he’s going to be here?” in the title track, it almost sounds as if her lonely voice is wandering throughout the song, trying to find a place even within the music that she is creating. I have cried listening to that song, and most of the others as well; the sheer, desolate beauty is absolutely incredible.
This is not always a… how can I put this, a depressing album, maybe? But sorrow and loss are some of the main undercurrents, as is true with much of Polly’s work, regardless of the musical style. Even when the tracks are more upbeat, like “C’mon Billy”, they are about loss – “come home to your son/tomorrow might never come.” “Teclo” is one of the most sorrowful songs I have ever heard in my life. And so, how does she pull this off without making it sound annoyingly depressive?
I think it has something to do with the way she was able to pull off anger and defiance without resorting to brattiness – she has incredible maturity, both lyrically and in terms of delivery, and so what might seem stupid if someone else did it, seems elegant when she does it.
Maybe I should work harder to do a track by track analysis of this album… in fact, I definitely should. This goes on my list of things to finish, along with the rest of my favourite albums list (hint hint, this is one of them.) But time is tight, and homework is sitting undone, so I’ll leave it at that for now.
Peace and love and beautiful music, Gillian.
Every single day, I can feel summer getting closer and closer… I can pretty much taste it. It’s impossible to give a damn about school when it’s sunny and beautiful outside – finally, I understand what people talk about when they mention spring fever. (I used to be a homeschooled kid – weird, I know. It never really mattered to us what time of the year it was, because we just did three or four days a week year-round.) Inside our dingy old school, it’s musty and stuffy and boring… gym class isn’t too bad, we play soccer and tag and sometimes it’s so hot that we just stand around and through footballs, but English and History? Yucky, I’m pretty sure my mark has gone done in both since midterms. And Drama is just deadly boring. I fell asleep in class yesterday, and our teacher is such a softie that he just left me lying on the floor until the bell rang and I had to run to work. Anyway, what all that longwinded meandering was leading up to is this – a list of things that represents what my summer is going to look like. I’m excited, although I doubt anyone else is much interested.
So, I realize that I have not yet finished my top ten albums post thinger… but that deserves a little more time and careful meditation. Right now I am thinking about one of my favourite songs of all time – “Space Oddity” by the man, David Bowie. It has been playing on repeat since I got home an hour ago, and annoying the hell out of my sister, a staunch supporter of the anti-Bowie movement. According to her, only losers and freaks listen to this kind of music. Guilty, I guess?
I didn’t even know this song existed until about a year and a half ago. I was vaguely aware of the existence of this mystical man, David Bowie… the Thin White Duke. But I had never heard anything by him; I was, at that time, convinced that all old music sounded like the Beatles and the Rolling Stones – nothing wrong with that, but I’d heard it all before, right? Wrong.
I listened to this for the first time on YouTube one night… say what you want about technology, but it has led me to the “discovery” of so many great artists that I am eternally in it’s debt. Anyway, Bowie sounded so pained and lonely and… indescribably alien, yet so human and vulnerable at the same time. I fell in love.
And the song… I have no words. It is so perfect, so incredible. I try not to be one of those people who immediately buys into the flawlessness of the classics, but this song is one that deserves every piece of fame and acclaim that it has received. I have no problem admitting that Bowie has made some pretty terrible songs in his life, but this is one of the great ones, and – even without others like “Changes” and “Ziggy Stardust” and “Heroes” and “Young Americans”- makes up for all those slip ups.
Here is a picture of the genius himself, from the cover of the single in 1969. Feast your eyes on that gorgeousness.
Peace and love <333 Gillian
So, I figured this post would be on my Top Ten albums. Be merciful, and keep in mind that as soon as I click post, 5 albums that I forgot will pop into my head, and I will tear my hair out trying to figure out how to edit this thing… I’m so technologically useless. (On a side note, while it is not on my Top Ten albums, I am currently listening to Shooting Rubberbands at the Stars by Edie Brickell & the New Bohemians – excellent album from the eighties, especially “What I Am.”) So, without further ado, here are my top ten favourite albums. No pictures, because my internet is crawling along at the rate of a snail.
Blonde on Blonde by the man, Bob Dylan. While I find that a lot of his work is overrated and glorified because of his moments of genius, this is one of the albums that deserves every bit of acclaim that it receives. His poetry, his delivery, the arcing, lazy harmonica arrangements and electric guitar… ahh, ear-gasm. Sometimes, when you get to that refrain in “Stuck Inside a Mobile…” and his delivery is just so perfect, it’s breathtaking. I could attempt an in-depth analysis of each song, but that deserves its own post. Sometime when I have a couple of spare hours, and a lot of yummy coffee.
My next choice is David Bowies The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars. I don’t know what insight I can possibly offer to this album that has not already become a worn cliche, but the truth is that this is not just a generic “greatest albums” choice. These albums are my favourites, not the ones I think are the best, and I listen to this at least 3 times a week, which is saying a lot considering the fair size of my music collection.
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds have made a lot of brilliant albums, but Let Love In is – in my opinion, anyway, above and beyond anything else that they have ever done, although I recommend that you check out his new band, Grinderman, provided that you’re over the age of fourteen. The sheer beauty and vulnerability and acceptance and … just everything in his voice in “I Let Love In.” My friends laugh at me, but I honestly find Nick Cave to be one of the sexiest guys out there, and it’s because of that song. Another favourite is “Red Right Hand”, an eery and slightly gothic song about… the devil, maybe? I just love the gong; it sends shivers down my spine.
I have an odd relationship with the Violent Femmes. They are a band from the eighties, most popular around when my mom was my age. She actually listened to them obsessively, and had all their CDs, although all of them after their self-titled debut are crap. Because of her love for them, I hated them. It was when I was going through that sullen grrl, Avril Lavigne phase around age eleven… makes me laugh to think about it. But, last year I tried listening to it again, and discovered that I absolutely freaking loved it. There is just so much teenage angst and aggression and honest sexuality and … I just wish I had the words. But a word of warning, The Violent Femmes is an album that is an acquired taste. I think I had listened to it ten times through before I completely got everything, and was singing along blissfully with “Add It Up” and “Gone Daddy Gone.” Also, as a xylophone player (no joke), I was delighted at the inclusion of an extensive xylophone solo in the latter song.
My next choice is a newer one, Sainthood by Tegan & Sara. Lovely, danceable, upbeat indie pop; this is the album that takes them over the top, adding electric beats to their sweet, indie love songs. Every song, even the slower ones, feel like they are being pushed forward by the pulse of the music, and it makes the fast songs sound exhilarating and the slower ones sound unique and slightly funky. My favourites are “Northshore” and “Alligator”, especially the latter. Even when they are sad, T & S pull off being cute without being precious, and sad without being annoyingly depressive. I love every song on this album, and while I don’t think this is one of the top ten greatest albums ever, it is on my top ten.
Well, it is getting late and, unfortunately, I am still a high school student. So, I’ll sign off for now, and then finish this up tomorrow. Should be a good day – school band is playing a bunch of concerts, and – despite the fact that I am too lazy to practice anything – we always manage to have fun. Anyway, comment if you want to give any more feedback on any of these albums! And, if you are reading this right now, thank you, because since Sunday I have accumulated a whopping 39 views… I realize that this is pathetic, but I am quite of proud of myself. Hope you guys are having a chill almost-summer.
Peace and love <33333 Gillian
I think I mentioned that this was too be a completely miscellaneous blog, basically just encompassing bits of my life… not like anyone cares, but it gives me something interesting to be doing, and an excuse to be up near midnight on a school-night, like I was yesterday, slaving over that Dresden Dolls post. Speaking of music, right now I am listening to a Canadian band called Stars – their dual albums, Do You Trust Your Friends? and Set Yourself On Fire are absolutely brilliant.
“When there is nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire.” – Stars, “Your Ex-Lover Is Dead”
Anyway, here is time for a different portion of my blog. I am an absolute crazy food addict – not addicted to eating, just addicted to eating good food… if that makes any sense. I made the yummiest wrap today, and I figured I might as well post the “recipe” for it here. I’ll also post the recipe for breakfast – chai oatmeal, a recipe that I found on the internet and modified a little bit, and it is pure heaven. Unfortunately, I was stupid and didn’t take any pictures… just use your imagination, I suppose. Besides, even when it’s good, oatmeal is nothing special to look at.
Roasted Vegetable, Cheddar and Pesto Wrap
Cut the red pepper and zucchini into thin strips, and roast them with the portobello mushroom. Usually I roast them on our panini press, without adding any oil or anything, but they can be done in the oven as well. Just keep going until they are lovely and cooked and tender. At the same time, pop the tortilla into the microwave for a couple of seconds to make it soft and roll-able. From there, it is super simple. Spread the pesto onto the tortilla, all around except for the inch around the edges, and then lay the strips of mushroom, zucchini and red pepper, all facing the same way. On top of that, put on the cheddar, and then the grated carrot, pile some mixed greens on top of that for crunch and mouth-feel, and wrap it up. My method for this is messy and largely ineffective, so I will not bother explaining it here. Anyway, this is simple and yummy. It can be eaten hot right on the spot, or cooled down and packed as lunch – I prefer it with the contrast between cool cheese and carrots and pesto and warm tortilla and vegetables, but it is delicious and healthy either way.
Chai-Spiced Oatmeal
Put the milk and spices in a small saucepan, and simmer for about five minutes, or until it starts smelling spicy and wonderful. Then, make sure heat is low-medium, and add in the oats, stirring occasionally to make sure that it doesn’t burn and stick to the bottom of the pan, until the oats have pretty much absorbed the milk and spices, then mix in the maple syrup and stir for a minute or two more. Serve hot, preferably with apples or blueberries, or both, as I did this morning. Using milk instead of water makes this really thick and creamy, and the spices add so much flavour that, even though there is only a little added sweetness, it tastes like much more. It was so good this morning! I also made myself chai for the bus ride, with hot milk and a tiny bit of sugar. What could be better than a double chai hit in the morning?
Peace and love <33333 Gillian
The Dresden Dolls, 2003
One of the first albums that I ever truly fell in love with was this gorgeous studio debut album from the Boston “Brechtian punk-cabaret” duo, the Dresden Dolls. Made up of the irreplaceable Amanda Palmer, and her quieter, more stoic drummer Brian Viglione, they reinvented genres, broke boundaries, and simply made great music. This, in my opinion, is the most exceptional album to come out of the so-called gothic/cabaret/punk style that was fashionable a couple of years ago. While they later succumbed to their own buzz, this is the album that has the near-perfect balance between personal and flamboyant, between whispered confessions and blistering shrieks, between the gentle caress of piano keys and the crazed striking that Palmer has perfected, and Viglione is simply brilliant – no wonder that without him, Amanda’s later solo work suffered.
The album gets off to a brave start with the strong “Good Day”, an expression of scorn for an ex-lover, and a defiant declaration of independence. It is one of the few songs on this album that uses guitar, but it blends well the crashing piano and drums, and is the better for it. With this song, Amanda establishes herself as both a gifted singer and songwriter; while this song doesn’t delve into the subtleties that come later in the album, it perfectly shows the situation – “God, it’s been a lovely day, and everything’s been going my way, every since you went away, yeah I’m on fire… I’d love to have you up to see the place; I’d love to do more than survive, I’d like to shove it in your face.” After the song ends, the track continues to the sound of Amanda and Brian singing a nursery rhyme – a fascination with youth, and the dark side of child-like innocence, is a recurring symbol throughout this album.
If “Good Day” seemed like it crashed in places, it was nothing compared to the hysteria of “Girl Anachronism.” To summarize, this is a song about a girl verging on insanity, who blames all her problems on the fact that she was born via Caesarean section. Again, not incredibly subtle, but it is deliciously eery, and the vocals perfectly match the feel of the song, and the piano crashes haphazardly, building tension right up the climax. “I don’t necessarily believe there is a cure for this so I might join your century but only as a doubtful guest and I was too precarious, removed as a Caesarean, now behold the world’s worst accident, I am the girl anachronism.”
Now, for the creepiness. “Missed Me”, sung throughout in a slightly squeaky, childlike voice, is the tale of a young girl who falls in love with an older man. The use of that children’s saying (“Missed me, missed me, now you’ve got to kiss me”) now seems chilling; I’ve never been able to hear it the same way since then. The singing is halting, the piano methodic and plodding, but it accelerates towards the end – as do many songs in this album – and Amanda’s voice reach heights of incredible despair as the girl shrieks for her lost, older lover.
“Half Jack” is one of the lesser known Dresden Dolls songs, and I’ve never understood why. From the very beginning, it was one of my favourites. But then again, I can relate to it very easily. As with all of their songs, it tells a story, of a girl who is pulled between two parts of her personality, one – the good, or more specifically, not the bad – that is represented by her mother’s blood, and the other – the bad – represented by her father. Her voice perfectly conveys the confusion and desperation that comes when you are not even able to trust yourself, and again, it reaches a desperate climax towards the end. Sometimes the use of this device can seem a little bit worn, but the thing is, they do it so incredibly well that they can pull off doing it a little bit too much in this album.
“672” is not really a song; just an old recording of Amanda improvising. It’s very good, definitely, but I’m not going to spend any more time explaining it than that.
So, now for the popular one… “Coin-Operated Boy”. A tentative, very cabaret, childish song about a girl who wishes that things were less complicated; hence, a coin-operated boy. I’m somewhat torn on this one; on the one hand, it could be an absolutely genius interpretation of our confusion with love, and our desire for simplicity in a complex culture, or it could simply be Amanda finding a bunch of clever plays on words, and delivering them in an overly precious manner. Whichever one it is, I still like the song quite a lot; just not one of my favourites.
Moving on to “Gravity” – a crashing ode to loose morals and delusions. While it isn’t entirely clear what she’s singing about, some lines (“Down at work I’m getting too familiar with the floor/Trading in my talents by the mouthful”), mixed with some of the jeering in the background towards the end (“Fuck him then cower… watch out, posture!”) seems to imply that it is about someone who was pressured to perform sexual favours at their work… maybe I’m getting too much into plotlines, but it is really interesting trying to think of stories that fit these songs. You could almost trace a wide storyline that stretches throughout the album, although it might be stretching things in a few places… such as our next song…
… “Bad Habit.” I’m not going to say anything more about this song, except that it is about self-mutilation and I don’t like it very much. Not that I dislike it, but – for whatever reason – it has never appealed to me. I don’t think that it has so much to do with the content as it has to do with the musical style; I’ve always preferred “Half Jack” style Dresden Dolls, or some of their later songs, to the delivery of this and “Girl Anachronism.” Sometimes I think that Amanda uses her incredible emotional range to breathe life into songs that, honestly, do not have much lyrical depth or wit, and this is one case where I absolutely believe that. On the other hand, though, I have no personal connection to the lyrics; for those who have experienced the things that she is singing about, it might be an entirely different story.
Ahh, “The Perfect Fit.” I don’t know what to say, except for that it is stunning, a beautiful interpretation of a girl who is falling apart at the seams, searching desperately for acceptance and love in the midst of her self-loathing. Again, it starts off quiet (“I can write a song/and I can sing in key/I can play piano but/I never learned to read”) to the climax (“Fuck, I’ll give you anything if you can end this hell… I only want to tell you my name/Hello, I’m good for nothing/Will you love me just the same?”), probably the most effective usage of this device.
Out of all of the songs on this album, “The Jeep Song” in undoubtedly the most lighthearted, and fun. Even though it is a story of lost love, the melody bounces along cheerfully, and there are even some “ba-ba-ba” back up vocals during the chorus. (“But with every jeep I see/my broken heart still skips a beat/I guess it’s just my stupid luck/that all of Boston drives that same black fucking truck… I’m thinking about skipping town awhile/until those cars go out of style… so don’t tell me if you’re off to see the world/I know you won’t get very far/Don’t tell me if you get another girl baby/Just tell me if you get another car.”)
“Slide” returns to the loss of child-like innocence through apparent molestation that they explore in “Missed Me.” This, along with “Bad Habit”, is just one of those songs that, while I like, I am somewhat indifferent to. It’s written in the slow, creepy style, but seems to drag along a little bit, and just isn’t as compelling as “Missed Me.” I still like it; but I have some significant reservations.
Clocking in at 8 minutes 34 seconds, “Truce” is an appropriate album closer, again using the quiet and slow at the beginning, loud and fast at the end style that they seem to like so much. It is the tale of two ex-lovers who are mapping out the world to ensure that they never run into each other again; for all the creepiness that Amanda tries for in “Slide”, the most chilling moment in this album comes when she hisses “Now get off my side of the state!” during this song. And the end… ahh, shivers – “So take whatever you like/I’ll strike like the states on fire/You won’t sleep very tight/No hiding, no safe cover/Make your bed and lie just like you always do/You can fake it for the papers, but I’m on to you.” Not to mention the jagged string arrangement at the end perfectly compliments the feel of this song, and the entire album, beginning melodic and pleasing before turning squeaky, jagged, harsh and broken sounding; yet in the seeming ugliness of that sound is a kind of harsh beauty, and vulnerability – all of the characteristics that Palmer and Viglione’s cast of characters display throughout this album.
If it is not obvious already, I’ll say it one more time. I absolutely love this album. It is not my favourite album (although it is up there, but Blonde on Blonde will always rest on top in my heart), nor is it a great album, but it is so raw, so vulnerable, yet so brave at the same time, that its flaws just make it that much more endearing. When I first bought this, I lay in my bedroom for weeks listening to it over and over again; I’m sure I’ve heard it hundreds of times, yet every time I listen to it, I can extract a little bit more meaning, delve a little bit further into the true depth of these songs, and for this, I absolutely worship it. It isn’t for everyone, but I would recommend it to everyone. Buy this album; as long as you keep an open mind, you won’t be sorry.
Peace and love, Gillian <33333
What is this blog? Well, I figure that it will be me, talking… as I do, you know. And I will just talk about the miscellaneous stuff that is important to me in my life; love, life, music, politics, fashion, current events, and my opinions, because let me tell you, I have an insane amount of them.
I’m not going to give too much information about myself here, just because I am secretly terrified of internet stalkers and such, and do not want to get murdered in my sleep, but I am a grade ten student living in fairly rural Ontario. Hopefully managing to survive high school with a shred of originality remaining in my mind. Hopefully going on to lead a brilliant and productive life. Hopefully going to see Tegan and Sara at this year’s Bluefest in Ottawa.
I love Tegan and Sara ❤ They sound like truth and love and happiness and sadness and intelligence. All that I aspire to.
Anyway, I love music, I love books, I love poetry, I love magazines, I love clothes, I love my friends and my family. I love wandering around our town in my bare feet, dressed like a little hippie child with my best friend (The Hobo) and looking through old bookstores and drinking mango smoothies. This is perhaps the best part of my life; most of the time it is not nearly so idyllic. But overall, I’m a lucky chick. And I’ll be even luckier if anyone even reads this thing; I kind of feel like I am rambling to myself. But don’t worry; my posts will actually take shape very shortly. This was just an introduction. You ain’t seen nothing yet.
Peace <333 Gillian
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