Whenever the team goes to Starbucks, Mallory Pugh convinces every one of her team moms to buy her something different, since they’re all wrapped around her finger. The baristas can’t help but remark on how young she is, but she can’t hear them over all her success.
Of course, we won’t soon forget his voice, either. But he knows as well as anyone that its the moments that matter: the first time you heard “All My Friends” surrounded by friends and sort of lost it; when you listened to “Losing My Edge”, chuckled, and then boned up on Can and Modern Lovers; going back to “Someone Great” after a loss. For a guy who once “vowed not to make personal music,” “Home” is a sentimental-yet-dignified last call. Murphy gets the last word: “If you’re afraid of what you need/ Look around you, you’re surrounded/ It won’t get any better/ So good night.”
It’s been a while but here’s a piano piece from yours truly, your cool cat Josh~ Last night after a grueling night at work, I took the band and my coworkers to a trip… Into The Unknown~
Ooh boy, was I overdue for an OTGW piece but here. I played it out of being so tired and wanting something sweet but somber to finish the night off, and why not play them a song that reminds me of a special friend who helps me get through nights like this sometimes, heh. You know who you are, but this ones out to you, thanks for loving this show and I hope to spread it more myself!
That’s all I really gotta say, its fun playing music from this show and I plan to learn more when I have time. The band said it was a cute song and my coworkers are always happy to see me show off, I guess!~ Can’t lose my edge with the piano after all, but I haven’t given up. I played one or two more songs after this but they weren’t significant enough to record lol. For now, let’s enjoy this time in the Unknown, my cool cats. Thanks for listening, I love you all~
Yeah, I’m losing my edge. I’m losing my edge. The kids are coming up from behind. I’m losing my edge. I’m losing my edge to the kids from France and from London. But I was there. I was there in 1968. I was there at the first Can show in Cologne. I’m losing my edge. I’m losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks. I’m losing my edge to the Internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1978. I’m losing my edge. To all the kids in Tokyo and Berlin. I’m losing my edge to the art-school Brooklynites in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered eighties. But I’m losing my edge. I’m losing my edge, but I was there. I was there. But I was there. I’m losing my edge. I’m losing my edge. I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks. But I was there. I was there in 1974 at the first Suicide practices in a loft in New York City. I was working on the organ sounds with much patience. I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band. I told him, “Don’t do it that way. You’ll never make a dime.” I was there. I was the first guy playing Daft Punk to the rock kids. I played it at CBGB’s. Everybody thought I was crazy. We all know. I was there. I was there. I’ve never been wrong. I used to work in the record store. I had everything before anyone. I was there in the Paradise Garage DJ booth with Larry Levan. I was there in Jamaica during the great sound clashes. I woke up naked on the beach in Ibiza in 1988. But I’m losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent. And they’re actually really, really nice. I’m losing my edge. I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody. Every great song by the Beach Boys. All the underground hits. All the Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import. I heard that you have a white label of every seminal Detroit techno hit - 1985, ‘86, '87. I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s. I hear you’re buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your computer out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yaz record. I hear that you and your band have sold your guitars and bought turntables. I hear that you and your band have sold your turntables and bought guitars. I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know. But have you seen my records? This Heat, Pere Ubu, Outsiders, Nation of Ulysses, Mars, The Trojans, The Black Dice, Todd Terry, the Germs, Section 25, Althea and Donna, Sexual Harrassment, a-ha, Pere Ubu, Dorothy Ashby, PIL, the Fania All-Stars, the Bar-Kays, the Human League, the Normal, Lou Reed, Scott Walker, Monks, Niagra, Joy Division, Lower 48, the Association, Sun Ra, Scientists, Royal Trux, 10cc, Eric B. and Rakim, Index, Basic Channel, Soulsonic Force (“just hit me”!), Juan Atkins, David Axelrod, Electric Prunes, Gil! Scott! Heron!, the Slits, Faust, Mantronix, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, the Swans, the Soft Cell, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics. You don’t know what you really want. (x15)
“Can you do a Lance x Reader one shot ? With some bow and arrow (it´s where your leg goes up so that your foot is kinda beside your head) sex pleasseeee !!” (x)
A/N: Re-upload. I can’t figure what’s annoying me about this fic so I just need it posted and done with. Sorry about the shitty writing and the fact that nothing happens. Ugh. Sorry to the anon that requested this, the smut is coming in the second part.
Warnings: Language, alcohol? Things are getting heated.
It was like suddenly
waking up from a bad dream; realising you were at a loud club in this dress with a drink in your hand. A
very bad dream. An obnoxiously loud and sparkly bad dream.
losing my edge you think.
Somehow your two best
friends had managed to drag you to a bar, saying you “need to go somewhere that
isn’t your apartment or work”. And letting them stay while you got ready was a
bad idea seeing as they made you get changed 3 times before taking things in to
their own hands and pulling out the dress from the back of your wardrobe.