Musik Poste: 'One Life Stand - A Suite of Songs For Annie Edison & Jeff Winger'
In honour of Community coming back this week, and my thought processes whilst going to work at an hour that's certainly not Godly - it's a fic&mix for Annie and Jeff. Bless. Thanks, Hot Chip! (And thanks to me for not even thinking the white cover would blend into a white background. Good on you, Me.)
EDIT OF EDIT: Hopefully everything is up and running and able to be downloaded. Yay!
---
ONE LIFE STAND | A Suite of Songs For Annie Edison & Jeff Winger
Moments keep us guessing
And lead us from temptation
---
DOWNLOAD
{SendSpace, zip, mp3, 62mb}
COVERS (600x600)
FRONT | BACK
---
{1.}
THE DARKNESS | Growing On Me
I wanna touch you
But I'm afraid of the consequences
There's always that one surprise in life - y'know, the one that really, truly knocks you down and drags you by the hair into the realisation that maybe all those best laid plans were better thrown away in favour of the beaten path.
That surprise that came with time, and hands on forearms; shared tuna sandwiches (she hated mayo but kept it on one side of the bread because she knew he did) and mirrored looks of furrowed concern at Pierce's continued insistence to dress like an ageing hipster.
The surprise that grew, over three years and four months, the surprise that required the push of five other people because that long, hard blow to the head?
Was hardly even a surprise at all.
{2.}
THE KINKS | You Really Got Me
You got me so
I can't sleep at night
Jeff wondered if seeing Annie walk in slow-mo towards him was one of the first signs of a stroke.
"The first sign of a stroke is tinging arms and trouble swallowing," Abed said, appearing at his side with an apple. He took a bite. "So it may seem like a stroke, but really it's just the chemical reaction your body is having to the visual of Annie in a short, tartan skirt. Which," he punctuated with taking another large chunk out of his fruit, "no doubt seems like it's in slow motion due to your overexposure to this very same imagery in countless films and television shows."
"So not a stroke, then," Jeff choked, trying to swallow.
Abed shrugged. "Just a lust-inspired, Kinks-soundtrack'd chemical reaction."
Jeff was certain his left arm was tingling. And his legs. And hands. And.
Yep.
Definitely not a stroke.
{3.}
HOT CHIP | One Life Stand
But better to embrace them
And measure our relation
"I can't be one of those girls."
Her voice was getting shrill now.
"One of those girls? What the hell do you mean?"
"A -" she fell over the start that lead into the rest of the sentence. "One night stand."
He felt the blood rush from his face as the woman in front of him seemed to deflate. Because in all reality? They'd been in his house, studying Spanish verbs (he'd made microwaved popcorn and oven pizza (slightly burnt) and had grinned when she'd praised him for going outside his culinary comfort zone), then it had turned to Vaughn, and then to tears and then he'd kissed her because it hurt his heart like a big loser to even see her cry and then -
"One night stand?"
He actually sounded hurt. Something Annie had a bit of trouble calculating in her rational brain, her brow furrowing as he turned away from her and crossed his arms.
"I'm sorry - I just -"
"For some reason, I can't imagine myself sleeping with you for just one night." He breathed out through his teeth as she moved to stand in front of him, her mouth slightly open. "So. You don't have to worry about being one of those girls, Italic Talker."
He probably should have steadied himself as she lunged at him, her mouth laying kisses over his face as they toppled back onto the couch. Her hands in his hair, his fingers at her waist and their smiles making it hard to get anything done.
Jeff wondered if this was what it was like when you found "The One", but he wasn't much for ceremony and instead, kissed her like she was the only one he'd ever known.
{4.}
MORCHEEBA | Rome Wasn't Build in a Day
I'm as nervous as you
About making it right
Britta knew a couple of things.
1. Feminism wasn't outdated, like her ex-boyfriend Bo (Bo) had told her, over and over again. (The patriarchy would not take away her Bikini Kill albums, and he certainly wouldn't get to see her "hidden feminine ideals" as long as they were being tended to by a professional Brazillian waxer.)
2. It's freakin' hard to watch two people you kind of, sort of love like a lot dance around each other when it was so stupidly obvious that they should have little brown-haired, blue-eyed babies with long foreheads and stubborn personalities.
3. Rome wasn't built in a day, but houses made of cards could be smashed in an instant.
4. Pomegranate juice rarely tastes like real pomegranates.
5. She wasn't cupid. But she could try.
Later, Britta knew a few more things.
6. Life is hard. But it's worth it to see two people you like love very much love each other right back.
{5.}
MIIKE SNOW | Burial
Remembering how I would raise an army
When we went back to your place
"It's pretty obvious."
"What is."
"Y'know. Annie."
"Yes. Annie. What about Annie, Troy."
"She likes a big man on campus. A bee-mock, if you will."
"I most certainly will not."
"You know what I mean."
"Sadly, and frustratingly, I do not."
"Dude."
"Dude?"
"Dude."
"Troy."
"Have fun at your burial, man."
"…what?"
{6.}
JOHN DENVER | Annie's Song
You fill up
My senses
The original was Peter Gabriel, and he wasn't John Cusack - but as Abed angled the car ("you better not scratch my Lexus." "And you better not think you look like the sexy star of Gross Pointe Blank, so get on the roof.") in front of Annie's house, it all felt so unreal. Which, he supposed, it meant probably wasn't, like that time he'd paraded in front of Spanish class with Pierce or when he'd drunk the entire supply of concentrated juice in the cafeteria when dared to by Troy.
This, however, probably wouldn't leave him with an F or the need to pee for the next seven days.
"Throw some rocks!"
"I'm getting there, geez, Abed!"
Annie's driveway had hardly anything small enough to throw at her window without smashing it to bits, so he used a couple of quarters, wincing when they hit the frilly-curtained window.
Silence.
The window opened.
"Jesus Mary and Joseph, boy, this is the sewing room."
"Oh." Jeff stared at Annie's father, who, he might add, was a nice shade of red and who could possibly have a gun - "which window is hers?"
"Below. Jesus, boy." Jeff sighed out in relief as the window closed to a chorus of mutterings about "young men today", turning his attention to the window below Red-Faced Dad's sewing room with a hand full of quarters -
"Jeffrey."
"Annie."
"What are you doing?"
"Say Anything!"
"Abed! Shut up!"
"Turn the music on, Jeff!"
"Abed!"
As John Denver blasted out through the Colorado neighbourhood, Jeff smiled at Annie, as she smiled back at him.
Maybe they didn't need to say anything, after all.
"Your jacket is ridiculous."
"Thanks."
"It looked stupid in the movie, too."
"Abed's idea."
"Figured."
(Well, they almost didn't have to say anything. Almost.)
{7.}
THE PIPETTES | Your Kisses Are Wasted On Me
I don't love you
You don't make me smile
"I hate you."
"What? What are you, sixteen?"
"No, eighteen, and you're old and -"
It wasn't enough to kiss her, Jeff knew. He'd have to kiss her so hard, she'd have to ignore the fact he'd stolen her notes and replaced them with a note pretending to be her notebook saying she'd never written the notes she thought she was missing in the first place.
(Okay, he never said it was a good idea.)
{8.}
DIE ÄRZTE | Unrockbar
Du sagst, Du findest zwar den Beat nicht,
aber Ricky Martin niedlich!
When a man decides to share his living space, he kind of wants to know what he's getting himself into.
Music.
Ricky Martin. Shakira. Spice Girls. Taylor Swift. Bruce Willis?
It must be a testament, he thought, feigning a cross on his chest, to how much he must like Annie - if her CD stacker didn't have him screaming for the hills in a fit of rock 'n' roll frustration, nothing would.
{9.}
ALPHABEAT | Ocean Blue
Our glances
Stray and entwine
Blue eyes.
Blue sweater.
Blue notebook, with her name in cursive.
Blue lips, winter snow.
Blue nail polish (rebellion, short-lived)
Blue eyes.
Blue eyes.
Blue credit card, raised lettering showing middle initial ('F').
Blue tin water bottle, at the start of a health-kick.
Blue scarf, with navy blue jacket.
Blue law books, lining lounge room.
Blue eyes.
{10.}
BRYAN FERRY | Goddess of Love
Speaking of friends
Will you spend a little time with me?
"It's a party," Britta'd shrugged. "A party to celebrate the end of graduation!"
Annie held up her invitation, and pointed at the top. "A party where you've told us who to come as?"
"Yup!" It wasn't the wide eyes of falseness that concerned Annie the most. It was the reason why, exactly, Britta expected her to attend a party at her friend's house dressed as Seven-Year Itch-era Marilyn Monroe.
"That's awfully specific, Britta."
"Uh-huh!" There's the wide-eyes again. "And you have to keep who you're coming as a secret."
Annie furrowed her brow. "Why?"
"FUN!" At the end of that loudly shouted word, Britta walked away, leaving Annie to contemplate why she felt so gosh-darn strange about the whole thing and where the heck she was going to get a white silk halter dress with fourteen days notice.
--
Two weeks later, her blonde wig licked her chin and her diamond earrings sparkled - as she danced with a Joe DiMaggio who seemed a little tall at 6 foot-four inches, but absolutely perfect all at the same time.
{11.}
JENS LEKMAN | Your Arms Around Me
My hand is wrapped in toilet paper
And my body's wrapped in debris
They would always have that moment where they'd be described as a car-wreck.
That moment, in the quad, where Britta and Shirley and Pierce and Troy and Abed all stood in front of them and described their entire existence as a car-wreck; a collision of metal and steel and blood that ground a city to a halt and affected the lives of everyone involved in it. The drivers, the passengers, the citizens, the families, that guy taking pictures of it with his iPhone, some guy named Bob who'd shake his head in sadness and say "that's terrible".
That moment, when she reached for his hand and held it tight, as their friends/family/concerned citizens looked at them and told them they were an accident that was inevitable, enviable.
{12.}
HAWKSLEY WORKMAN | We Will Still Need a Song
We can die in peace knowing we tried
To change our own ways
Life is full of surprises. And songs, and accidents, and costumes and hearts squishing together grossly and John Cusack-Ione Skye moments.
It's full of friends and (dirty-haired, bad-song-singin') enemies, of bad ringtone choices and roller skating. Filled with Indian food and leopard-skin purses, empty shoeboxes from an expensive wedding shoe place and bare feet against a temporary dance floor.
Last night's bad ideas turning into tomorrow's beautiful ones, melodies turning into songs and friends becoming so much more.
And those surprises turning into bigger ones, turning into the slow slide of inevitability and tickle-fights at noon, into shared cups of "I'm running late!" coffee and the type of smiles that can only ever begin across the study table at a community college.
---
DOWNLOAD
{SendSpace, zip, mp3, 62mb}
COVERS (600x600)
FRONT | BACK
---
Oh, them. Didn't that get nice and soppy for a bit. Double bless.
EDIT OF EDIT: Hopefully everything is up and running and able to be downloaded. Yay!
---
ONE LIFE STAND | A Suite of Songs For Annie Edison & Jeff Winger
Moments keep us guessing
And lead us from temptation
---
DOWNLOAD
{SendSpace, zip, mp3, 62mb}
COVERS (600x600)
FRONT | BACK
---
{1.}
THE DARKNESS | Growing On Me
I wanna touch you
But I'm afraid of the consequences
There's always that one surprise in life - y'know, the one that really, truly knocks you down and drags you by the hair into the realisation that maybe all those best laid plans were better thrown away in favour of the beaten path.
That surprise that came with time, and hands on forearms; shared tuna sandwiches (she hated mayo but kept it on one side of the bread because she knew he did) and mirrored looks of furrowed concern at Pierce's continued insistence to dress like an ageing hipster.
The surprise that grew, over three years and four months, the surprise that required the push of five other people because that long, hard blow to the head?
Was hardly even a surprise at all.
{2.}
THE KINKS | You Really Got Me
You got me so
I can't sleep at night
Jeff wondered if seeing Annie walk in slow-mo towards him was one of the first signs of a stroke.
"The first sign of a stroke is tinging arms and trouble swallowing," Abed said, appearing at his side with an apple. He took a bite. "So it may seem like a stroke, but really it's just the chemical reaction your body is having to the visual of Annie in a short, tartan skirt. Which," he punctuated with taking another large chunk out of his fruit, "no doubt seems like it's in slow motion due to your overexposure to this very same imagery in countless films and television shows."
"So not a stroke, then," Jeff choked, trying to swallow.
Abed shrugged. "Just a lust-inspired, Kinks-soundtrack'd chemical reaction."
Jeff was certain his left arm was tingling. And his legs. And hands. And.
Yep.
Definitely not a stroke.
{3.}
HOT CHIP | One Life Stand
But better to embrace them
And measure our relation
"I can't be one of those girls."
Her voice was getting shrill now.
"One of those girls? What the hell do you mean?"
"A -" she fell over the start that lead into the rest of the sentence. "One night stand."
He felt the blood rush from his face as the woman in front of him seemed to deflate. Because in all reality? They'd been in his house, studying Spanish verbs (he'd made microwaved popcorn and oven pizza (slightly burnt) and had grinned when she'd praised him for going outside his culinary comfort zone), then it had turned to Vaughn, and then to tears and then he'd kissed her because it hurt his heart like a big loser to even see her cry and then -
"One night stand?"
He actually sounded hurt. Something Annie had a bit of trouble calculating in her rational brain, her brow furrowing as he turned away from her and crossed his arms.
"I'm sorry - I just -"
"For some reason, I can't imagine myself sleeping with you for just one night." He breathed out through his teeth as she moved to stand in front of him, her mouth slightly open. "So. You don't have to worry about being one of those girls, Italic Talker."
He probably should have steadied himself as she lunged at him, her mouth laying kisses over his face as they toppled back onto the couch. Her hands in his hair, his fingers at her waist and their smiles making it hard to get anything done.
Jeff wondered if this was what it was like when you found "The One", but he wasn't much for ceremony and instead, kissed her like she was the only one he'd ever known.
{4.}
MORCHEEBA | Rome Wasn't Build in a Day
I'm as nervous as you
About making it right
Britta knew a couple of things.
1. Feminism wasn't outdated, like her ex-boyfriend Bo (Bo) had told her, over and over again. (The patriarchy would not take away her Bikini Kill albums, and he certainly wouldn't get to see her "hidden feminine ideals" as long as they were being tended to by a professional Brazillian waxer.)
2. It's freakin' hard to watch two people you kind of, sort of love like a lot dance around each other when it was so stupidly obvious that they should have little brown-haired, blue-eyed babies with long foreheads and stubborn personalities.
3. Rome wasn't built in a day, but houses made of cards could be smashed in an instant.
4. Pomegranate juice rarely tastes like real pomegranates.
5. She wasn't cupid. But she could try.
Later, Britta knew a few more things.
6. Life is hard. But it's worth it to see two people you like love very much love each other right back.
{5.}
MIIKE SNOW | Burial
Remembering how I would raise an army
When we went back to your place
"It's pretty obvious."
"What is."
"Y'know. Annie."
"Yes. Annie. What about Annie, Troy."
"She likes a big man on campus. A bee-mock, if you will."
"I most certainly will not."
"You know what I mean."
"Sadly, and frustratingly, I do not."
"Dude."
"Dude?"
"Dude."
"Troy."
"Have fun at your burial, man."
"…what?"
{6.}
JOHN DENVER | Annie's Song
You fill up
My senses
The original was Peter Gabriel, and he wasn't John Cusack - but as Abed angled the car ("you better not scratch my Lexus." "And you better not think you look like the sexy star of Gross Pointe Blank, so get on the roof.") in front of Annie's house, it all felt so unreal. Which, he supposed, it meant probably wasn't, like that time he'd paraded in front of Spanish class with Pierce or when he'd drunk the entire supply of concentrated juice in the cafeteria when dared to by Troy.
This, however, probably wouldn't leave him with an F or the need to pee for the next seven days.
"Throw some rocks!"
"I'm getting there, geez, Abed!"
Annie's driveway had hardly anything small enough to throw at her window without smashing it to bits, so he used a couple of quarters, wincing when they hit the frilly-curtained window.
Silence.
The window opened.
"Jesus Mary and Joseph, boy, this is the sewing room."
"Oh." Jeff stared at Annie's father, who, he might add, was a nice shade of red and who could possibly have a gun - "which window is hers?"
"Below. Jesus, boy." Jeff sighed out in relief as the window closed to a chorus of mutterings about "young men today", turning his attention to the window below Red-Faced Dad's sewing room with a hand full of quarters -
"Jeffrey."
"Annie."
"What are you doing?"
"Say Anything!"
"Abed! Shut up!"
"Turn the music on, Jeff!"
"Abed!"
As John Denver blasted out through the Colorado neighbourhood, Jeff smiled at Annie, as she smiled back at him.
Maybe they didn't need to say anything, after all.
"Your jacket is ridiculous."
"Thanks."
"It looked stupid in the movie, too."
"Abed's idea."
"Figured."
(Well, they almost didn't have to say anything. Almost.)
{7.}
THE PIPETTES | Your Kisses Are Wasted On Me
I don't love you
You don't make me smile
"I hate you."
"What? What are you, sixteen?"
"No, eighteen, and you're old and -"
It wasn't enough to kiss her, Jeff knew. He'd have to kiss her so hard, she'd have to ignore the fact he'd stolen her notes and replaced them with a note pretending to be her notebook saying she'd never written the notes she thought she was missing in the first place.
(Okay, he never said it was a good idea.)
{8.}
DIE ÄRZTE | Unrockbar
Du sagst, Du findest zwar den Beat nicht,
aber Ricky Martin niedlich!
When a man decides to share his living space, he kind of wants to know what he's getting himself into.
Music.
Ricky Martin. Shakira. Spice Girls. Taylor Swift. Bruce Willis?
It must be a testament, he thought, feigning a cross on his chest, to how much he must like Annie - if her CD stacker didn't have him screaming for the hills in a fit of rock 'n' roll frustration, nothing would.
{9.}
ALPHABEAT | Ocean Blue
Our glances
Stray and entwine
Blue eyes.
Blue sweater.
Blue notebook, with her name in cursive.
Blue lips, winter snow.
Blue nail polish (rebellion, short-lived)
Blue eyes.
Blue eyes.
Blue credit card, raised lettering showing middle initial ('F').
Blue tin water bottle, at the start of a health-kick.
Blue scarf, with navy blue jacket.
Blue law books, lining lounge room.
Blue eyes.
{10.}
BRYAN FERRY | Goddess of Love
Speaking of friends
Will you spend a little time with me?
"It's a party," Britta'd shrugged. "A party to celebrate the end of graduation!"
Annie held up her invitation, and pointed at the top. "A party where you've told us who to come as?"
"Yup!" It wasn't the wide eyes of falseness that concerned Annie the most. It was the reason why, exactly, Britta expected her to attend a party at her friend's house dressed as Seven-Year Itch-era Marilyn Monroe.
"That's awfully specific, Britta."
"Uh-huh!" There's the wide-eyes again. "And you have to keep who you're coming as a secret."
Annie furrowed her brow. "Why?"
"FUN!" At the end of that loudly shouted word, Britta walked away, leaving Annie to contemplate why she felt so gosh-darn strange about the whole thing and where the heck she was going to get a white silk halter dress with fourteen days notice.
--
Two weeks later, her blonde wig licked her chin and her diamond earrings sparkled - as she danced with a Joe DiMaggio who seemed a little tall at 6 foot-four inches, but absolutely perfect all at the same time.
{11.}
JENS LEKMAN | Your Arms Around Me
My hand is wrapped in toilet paper
And my body's wrapped in debris
They would always have that moment where they'd be described as a car-wreck.
That moment, in the quad, where Britta and Shirley and Pierce and Troy and Abed all stood in front of them and described their entire existence as a car-wreck; a collision of metal and steel and blood that ground a city to a halt and affected the lives of everyone involved in it. The drivers, the passengers, the citizens, the families, that guy taking pictures of it with his iPhone, some guy named Bob who'd shake his head in sadness and say "that's terrible".
That moment, when she reached for his hand and held it tight, as their friends/family/concerned citizens looked at them and told them they were an accident that was inevitable, enviable.
{12.}
HAWKSLEY WORKMAN | We Will Still Need a Song
We can die in peace knowing we tried
To change our own ways
Life is full of surprises. And songs, and accidents, and costumes and hearts squishing together grossly and John Cusack-Ione Skye moments.
It's full of friends and (dirty-haired, bad-song-singin') enemies, of bad ringtone choices and roller skating. Filled with Indian food and leopard-skin purses, empty shoeboxes from an expensive wedding shoe place and bare feet against a temporary dance floor.
Last night's bad ideas turning into tomorrow's beautiful ones, melodies turning into songs and friends becoming so much more.
And those surprises turning into bigger ones, turning into the slow slide of inevitability and tickle-fights at noon, into shared cups of "I'm running late!" coffee and the type of smiles that can only ever begin across the study table at a community college.
---
DOWNLOAD
{SendSpace, zip, mp3, 62mb}
COVERS (600x600)
FRONT | BACK
---
Oh, them. Didn't that get nice and soppy for a bit. Double bless.