Pretty much everyone I know online I know because of music; it's weird we don't talk about it more.
Have you ever been like, "No, okay, you have to listen to this song. If you haven't ever heard this song, you can't possibly understand who the fuck I am."
It's overly dramatic, I know, but whatever. Music makes me dramatic. Or maybe I'm just dramatic by nature and it really comes out when I'm enthusiastic about things. When I love something, I really fucking love it. I'm a ridiculous ball of quivering emotion, and sometimes I get my feels all over the place. If you talk to me about books or music or art, you'll see first hand how painfully sincere I get when I talk about what I love. Sometimes people find this startling because I have long cultivated a crunchy charcoal shell around myself so that I appear to be icy cool and self-possessed. Then people actually believe that I'm icy cool and self-possessed, so they're caught completely off guard when I let my tender little heart show and they realize that I'm actually a huge goober who likes saying nice things about people.
If this freaks you out, you can just do what Bananas does; if you stop moving and barely breathe and NEVER EVER make eye contact, the emotions might not be able to find you.
I actually have no idea how to organize this musical glomp-fest. By artist, I suppose.
First up, The Clash. I don't even know how to tell you how much I love The Clash. Part of the first wave of British punk, they came out swinging not with hate and sneers but with defiant hope. They weren't stomping on rock's grave, they resuscitated it. Unlike a lot of the other bands in British punk's first wave, they weren't there to make a statement, they were there because they fucking loved music, all kinds of music, and that comes across crystal clear. They embraced rock, jazz, reggae, ska, punk, world music, anything that spoke to them. They wrote the future of music. That sounds cheesy as fuck, I know, but fucking seriously. If you like The White Stripes, if you like M.I.A. or Rancid or No Doubt, if you like R.E.M. or Green Day or Public Enemy, thank The Clash.
And while what I just wrote in the above paragraph is true, it's not what I want to say. I don't think about music, really, I feel it, so words are completely fucking inadequate. I can't make their music mean the same things to you as it does to me, but I can give you the chance to listen to it.
I don't have a favorite anything -- not a favorite color or food or beer. I like so many different things and I can never decide which one I like best. But I do have a favorite song, and "Lost in the Supermarket" is it.
You've heard this song before. You think it's called "Stand by Me" but it's not, it's called "Train in Vain."
Topper Headon's galloping drum intro always fills me with giddy anticipation.
You've heard this one, too. It's just a great fucking rock song.
I've had a crush on Paul Simonon, The Clash's bassist, since I was eight years old, the lanky hotass motherfucker. He didn't actually know how to play the bass when he joined, but they wanted him in the band, anyway. Maybe because he's the one who came up with the name. Like another lanky hotass bassist motherfucker I could mention. However, as far as I know, Paul Simonon never spent a Summer of Like getting angsty poetry/lyrics written about him by Pete Wentz.
"London Calling" is the song most people think of when someone mentions The Clash, and it's fucking amazing. The haunting pulse and slide of Paul Simonon's bass line, Topper Headon's unrelenting drums, Mick Jones' wailing guitar that somehow creates an atmosphere of ominous dread, and Joe fucking Stummer singing his uneasiness and desperation and actually fucking howling with it. Just the first twenty seconds create a sense of urgency and need in me as strong as sex. I really fucking love music.
Next is Jeff Buckley. I'm not even going to try to explain why he's so great this time, I'll just say that no matter what mood I'm in, if I'm euphoric or sobbing, his music is always the perfect soundtrack. Also, David Bowie says if he could only listen to one album for the rest of his life, it would be Jeff Buckley's "Grace."
If you haven't heard Jeff Buckley's version of "Hallelujah," you've clearly been living under a rock. It's gorgeous, I won't argue that it's not because that would be stupid, but it's not my favorite of his.
Okay, fine, I don't actually have a favorite favorite of his, but the songs that follow are always jostling for first place.
"Last Goodbye" has some of my favorite lyrics of all time -- kiss me out of desire and not consolation. Besides that, the way his voice soars, that breathtaking tenor rising into a wail around the 3 minute mark, fuck. It's broken and defiant and, ugh, just the best.
Right now, "Grace" is my favorite Jeff Buckley song. Tomorrow it will probably be something else, and then in a week or a month, it'll be my favorite again.
I think I really fell in love with Jeff Buckley when I heard his cover of Nina Simone's "Lilac Wine." Which, fuck, okay, clearly Nina Simone has to be next. FYI, he doesn't use falsetto at all in this -- those beautifully clear, sustained high notes are all in his head voice. He does have a gorgeous falsetto, though.
Every time he sings, it's never over, I die a little. In the very best way.
Oh, Jesus. I can't. His fucking ethereal guitar work starting around 2:30 and slowly building into a relentless, driving grind and then his vocals come back in so full of venom and grief. I'll just be over here on the floor being strangled by my feels.
So...okay. Clearly I love way more than two musical artists, but it's probably best if I don't unleash the giant fucking universe that is my love for music all at once. Tiny little doses of over-the-top adoration are probably best.
This entry was originally posted at http://janesays.dreamwidth.org/22869.html. Comment wherever you'd like.
It's overly dramatic, I know, but whatever. Music makes me dramatic. Or maybe I'm just dramatic by nature and it really comes out when I'm enthusiastic about things. When I love something, I really fucking love it. I'm a ridiculous ball of quivering emotion, and sometimes I get my feels all over the place. If you talk to me about books or music or art, you'll see first hand how painfully sincere I get when I talk about what I love. Sometimes people find this startling because I have long cultivated a crunchy charcoal shell around myself so that I appear to be icy cool and self-possessed. Then people actually believe that I'm icy cool and self-possessed, so they're caught completely off guard when I let my tender little heart show and they realize that I'm actually a huge goober who likes saying nice things about people.
If this freaks you out, you can just do what Bananas does; if you stop moving and barely breathe and NEVER EVER make eye contact, the emotions might not be able to find you.
I actually have no idea how to organize this musical glomp-fest. By artist, I suppose.
First up, The Clash. I don't even know how to tell you how much I love The Clash. Part of the first wave of British punk, they came out swinging not with hate and sneers but with defiant hope. They weren't stomping on rock's grave, they resuscitated it. Unlike a lot of the other bands in British punk's first wave, they weren't there to make a statement, they were there because they fucking loved music, all kinds of music, and that comes across crystal clear. They embraced rock, jazz, reggae, ska, punk, world music, anything that spoke to them. They wrote the future of music. That sounds cheesy as fuck, I know, but fucking seriously. If you like The White Stripes, if you like M.I.A. or Rancid or No Doubt, if you like R.E.M. or Green Day or Public Enemy, thank The Clash.
And while what I just wrote in the above paragraph is true, it's not what I want to say. I don't think about music, really, I feel it, so words are completely fucking inadequate. I can't make their music mean the same things to you as it does to me, but I can give you the chance to listen to it.
Click to viewI don't have a favorite anything -- not a favorite color or food or beer. I like so many different things and I can never decide which one I like best. But I do have a favorite song, and "Lost in the Supermarket" is it.
You've heard this song before. You think it's called "Stand by Me" but it's not, it's called "Train in Vain."
Topper Headon's galloping drum intro always fills me with giddy anticipation.
You've heard this one, too. It's just a great fucking rock song.
I've had a crush on Paul Simonon, The Clash's bassist, since I was eight years old, the lanky hotass motherfucker. He didn't actually know how to play the bass when he joined, but they wanted him in the band, anyway. Maybe because he's the one who came up with the name. Like another lanky hotass bassist motherfucker I could mention. However, as far as I know, Paul Simonon never spent a Summer of Like getting angsty poetry/lyrics written about him by Pete Wentz.
"London Calling" is the song most people think of when someone mentions The Clash, and it's fucking amazing. The haunting pulse and slide of Paul Simonon's bass line, Topper Headon's unrelenting drums, Mick Jones' wailing guitar that somehow creates an atmosphere of ominous dread, and Joe fucking Stummer singing his uneasiness and desperation and actually fucking howling with it. Just the first twenty seconds create a sense of urgency and need in me as strong as sex. I really fucking love music.
Next is Jeff Buckley. I'm not even going to try to explain why he's so great this time, I'll just say that no matter what mood I'm in, if I'm euphoric or sobbing, his music is always the perfect soundtrack. Also, David Bowie says if he could only listen to one album for the rest of his life, it would be Jeff Buckley's "Grace."
If you haven't heard Jeff Buckley's version of "Hallelujah," you've clearly been living under a rock. It's gorgeous, I won't argue that it's not because that would be stupid, but it's not my favorite of his.
Okay, fine, I don't actually have a favorite favorite of his, but the songs that follow are always jostling for first place.
"Last Goodbye" has some of my favorite lyrics of all time -- kiss me out of desire and not consolation. Besides that, the way his voice soars, that breathtaking tenor rising into a wail around the 3 minute mark, fuck. It's broken and defiant and, ugh, just the best.
Right now, "Grace" is my favorite Jeff Buckley song. Tomorrow it will probably be something else, and then in a week or a month, it'll be my favorite again.
I think I really fell in love with Jeff Buckley when I heard his cover of Nina Simone's "Lilac Wine." Which, fuck, okay, clearly Nina Simone has to be next. FYI, he doesn't use falsetto at all in this -- those beautifully clear, sustained high notes are all in his head voice. He does have a gorgeous falsetto, though.
Every time he sings, it's never over, I die a little. In the very best way.
Oh, Jesus. I can't. His fucking ethereal guitar work starting around 2:30 and slowly building into a relentless, driving grind and then his vocals come back in so full of venom and grief. I'll just be over here on the floor being strangled by my feels.
So...okay. Clearly I love way more than two musical artists, but it's probably best if I don't unleash the giant fucking universe that is my love for music all at once. Tiny little doses of over-the-top adoration are probably best.
This entry was originally posted at http://janesays.dreamwidth.org/22869.html. Comment wherever you'd like.