“Holocene" contains one of this album’s many virtuosic vocal performances. "Part of me, apart from me," Vernon sings early on, and those six words hold a lot. The evocative nature of his diction is apparent even in a simple line like "I was not magnificent." He sounds centered and clear while taking stock and allowing memories to be mixed in with the details of the present. His conflicted vocals trigger a half-dozen feelings all at once before releasing the tension with a refrain that finds the fleeting moment where the world seems right: "I could see for miles, miles, miles.”—
Pitchfork.com’s Review of Bon Iver
shit like this is the reason why i think music criticism should be outlawed. it’s perfectly okay for you to feel that way about a set of lyrics, but when you say it in a review that you got paid to write, you just sound like an asshole.
“And what do you get out of that suspension of disbelief? A single moment in which the complicated world in which we live makes direct and uncomplicated sense. It is intellectually productive to see the world as a vast sea of nuance, ambiguities and contradictions that never resolve but always stay open, “truth” as something that’s negotiated and re-negotiated again and again. But God, it’s exhausting! Offensive art offers an escape. It relieves that pressure, for a moment at least, by offering a perspective that makes the world black-and-white. I don’t know how enjoyable offensive art could really be if you don’t normally see the world as complex and nuanced. Without that knowledge, there’s no mismatch between what’s said and what’s meant. Consuming such directly unreal art implies that you are going to return, once it is over, to the real world of vagueness and subtlety you otherwise spend all your time recognizing. It offers the fantasy, to people who spend their day thinking and writing and speaking, that a single thought could truly pierce the fabric of the world; that an uncomplicated shout could actually make a difference. In reality, we know that’s not true. But it’s fun to think so, if only for a little while.”—
In CASINO ROYALE, James Bond is the Bond girl. Look at the way they even show him emerging from the ocean like Ursula Andress. Sexual torture, too, if less creepy-glam than being stripped and painted gold. Vesper Lynd is Bond: never not in control, never without a plan, seducing to further her goals. She has to die so Bond can become her.
I got my tumblr deleted by a few stupid friends so i had to restart everything, I went through all of followers and refollow them. I’m just letting you know that im following you and it would be just great if i could have your follow once again :) thank you :)
done and done. any friend of felise is… well, any friend of someone blake knows… anyone who… who lives in australia, that i know through tenuous means… anyone who’s on tumblr that… that… fuck it, you’re welcome.
(first of all, i just want to acknowledge that nearly everyone who was doing this with me has already finished their 30 days, and that’s because i was without a computer for over two weeks, which made it significantly harder for me to do this. but i have fun doing it, so i’m going to start back up again. for all of you who’ve been done with this for weeks, it’ll be like a blast from the past!)
day 19: a song from your favorite album
in 2008 (hey, there’s that year again! we really are picking up right where we left off) was when i really started to expand my horizons in terms of music. i mean, it was nothing in comparison to morgan’s folk-rock explosion that happened at the same time, but still, it was important. it was also when i really started to appreciate the idea of an ‘album’, by which i mean, a bunch of songs that held together really well. i no longer judged albums based on how many individual songs i liked, but by how much i liked the whole thing. it sounds kind of stupid trying to explain it, but i think you get the idea.
one of the albums i was most impressed with was Randy Newman’s “Good Old Boys”, a pseudo-song-cycle (originally a full-on concept album before he made some major changes) about life in the south. i was originally drawn to it because of the first song, which is one of Randy Newman’s best pieces of racial satire… even though i’m pretty sure i didn’t “get it” until about my fifth or sixth listen. the song i’ve actually chosen is the last song on the album, and it’s kind of nice and relaxing, but it’s also a little disconcerting.
anyway, this isn’t so much my “favorite album” as it is one of my first “favorite albums"… or something like that.
this isn’t really related to anything that’s going on, but it happened the other day and i decided i wanted to write it down:
i was in my apocalypticism class and we were discussing the ‘left behind’ books, as we have been doing for over a month now. it was the final day of our discussion, and we eventually ended up on the topic of gender roles in the ‘left behind’ series. surprise, they’re kind of fucked up! (from my point of view, at least, my point of view being that fundamentalist religious dogma is, on the whole, a little fucked up) one girl, while pointing out the many reasons why the book’s gender roles upset her, took the time to point out that she considered herself a ‘pseudo-feminist’.
i instantly understood what she was saying, and my heart sank. but one of the male students in the class didn’t get it, so she asked her, “what do you mean by ‘pseudo-feminist’?” and the girl replied “well, i like shaving my legs, but i also think i should make as much money as you.”
the point is: it’s seriously upsetting that the feminist movement has been so demonized that women who are in full support of equality feel that they have to distance themselves from it.
Doobl! isn’t quite as good as SilverHell, though. SilverHell actually works as a piece of art, while Doobl! is more of a dark joke. a really, really dark joke*. if you’re going to read the comics, make sure you read along withe the “old news” section.