pedal keyboard

We caught up with Adam Granduciel from The War On Drugs playing a Fender Paramount Parlor in his studio. We can’t wait for their upcoming record, which Pitchfork called one of the albums they’re most excited for this year!

Midnight Coffee

Jasmine Cephas Jones x Fem!Reader
Words: 1760

well hello there. surprised to see me writing again? so am i honestly.

i got a keyboard the other day and all i’ve been doing is playing it and crying when the pedal misbehaves (the keyboard ends up sustaining by itself and the pedal stops the sustain which is the wrong way around)

but anyway. i’ve had a bit of writers block and i’ve had a lot going on in my life. i’m horrible at all of my subjects, i feel pretty isolated at school and on here and i kinda just gave up for a little while.

tonight, i just started writing. this was going to be an anthony x reader or a daveed x reader but i never have written a jasmine x reader. i suppose this could be day 6 of the hamwriters challenge (that i never did finish oops)

i’ll finish my speech now because i really wanna watch this episode of legion and then maybe (probably not) get some sleep. i hope you all enjoy this!

requests are open or if you wanna chat or something, you can message me. I love you all

ps. i really love dan stevens wow what a man 

Masterlist

Originally posted by janthony-marriage-watch

~

It was late one Sunday night when you first met Jasmine.

You were sitting in your tiny apartment with its paper thin walls and it’s horrible acoustics as you tried to finish a song. You knew the song needed to be finished by midnight at the latest for it to be counted towards your grade, but you also knew that your current writer’s block may have been the worst ever.

The task was simple and one you had completed many times before, but when you sat down at your keyboard, you felt nothing. There wasn’t a melody in your head besides “Careless Whisper”, the song your ex had played a cover of in class today.

He had dedicated it to you, which made you roll your eyes once again. He really hadn’t clicked on to the fact that you weren’t interested in him, nor any other guy on the planet. Alas, your parents seemed to have a hatred for people in the LGBTQ+ community that you just couldn’t explain. You weren’t sure what it was, but whenever they saw a same sex couple in public, they would turn their noses.

You knew you weren’t coming out anytime soon. You still hadn’t found the right person, so what was the point anyway?

You sighed when you realised your mind had drifted again, turning your attention back to the blank page on your music stand. It looked like someone had taken a scan of your brain and printed it out onto paper… you had nothing, the page had nothing, it was a match made in heaven.

A three minute song couldn’t be that hard to write, right? You usually smashed out five minute songs in about an hour when you didn’t need to. But now that there was criteria, that people were judging you… you simply didn’t know what to do.

About another hour passed of changing the direction of your stare from the tree outside your window and back to the sheet music when you decided you had finally had enough. “For fuck’s sake! I’m never getting this done!” You exclaimed, picking up your music stand and throwing it at the wall out of frustration.

A cloud of dirt filled the air as the music stand went through the wall you shared with your neighbour. You gasped, staring at the hole in shock. You hadn’t thrown it that hard, had you? Maybe you had… how the hell were you supposed to cover this up? Or pay for the damage you had caused?

You pulled the music stand out of the wall, glancing through the wall at the nicely decorated apartment. You had never met your neighbours, but from the loud rap music you often heard some nights, you had assumed they were thugs.

The door in the apartment swung open to reveal a young girl with short hair. You gasped, looking around anxiously before bolting and sitting down at your keyboard. You acted natural, biting down hard on your lip as the girl stepped forward and inspected the wall.

“Still haven’t gotten that song done?”

Your eyes widened. You looked up from where you were pretending to play, a red blush coating your cheeks. “U-Uh what?” You replied, resting your elbow on one of the keys and jumping when a low note was played. You fell backwards off the chair, groaning and closing your eyes in embarrassment.

The girl in the opposite apartment giggled. “Is your door open? I’ve heard the other originals you’ve written and I think I could help create something similar. Your assignment’s due tomorrow, right?” She asked.

You looked at her in confusion, having no words for the extraordinary girl. You had never seen anyone like her before… she was beautiful, kind and she didn’t seem angry about the wall. In fact, she hadn’t even mentioned it yet. That had to be something good, right?

Letting out a long sigh, you laid on the floor and watched as the girl disappeared, your head snapping to your door as she walked into your apartment.

“I’m Jasmine by the way, and you might want to consider locking your door. There are some weird people around here,” she stated, holding out her finely manicured hand and helping you up from where you laid on the ground.

“(Y/N). I’m (Y/N),” you said, sitting back down on your chair. “Now, would you mind telling me how you know so much about my assignment? And so much about me?”

Jasmine’s eyes widened. She blushed slightly, pulling a seat over to the piano and sitting next to you. “Well, my ex-boyfriend / best friend is always off in the studio making music. I’m home a lot, and I’m often curious when I hear you playing. Well, I’ve always been curious. You always play sad songs, even if they’re not your originals. I was wondering what kind of person was waiting behind the wall,” She started, playing with the hem of her sleeve as she continued on.

“As you know, the walls are pretty thin. I’m sure you’ve heard Anthony and I arguing over stupid things before… but whenever their was silence on my side of the wall, there was always yelling or conversations on yours. It made me feel kinda safe to know there was someone else living here… as you may have noticed, most of the neighbours are totally insane. I hope that answers your question.”

You looked up from the keyboard keys to her, your eyes glancing over her as you tried to find the words to fill the silence. “S-So you’re not mad about the wall?” You asked, freezing as she looked up from her hands. She truly was one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen.

“I was a bit shocked at first, but I like to take everything as an opportunity. I was thinking maybe we could go and get coffee and then get started on some chord progressions and lyrics? I’d love to help you out. You do seem rather stressed,” Jasmine suggested, a small smile appearing on her face.

“Wait, really? You’re not worried at all… I’m afraid I don’t even have the funds to pay for it, and I wish I did because I feel so horrible that I-“

“Hey, don’t worry. Tonight is about getting things done and new opportunities. So what do you say? Do you want to join me on this adventure?” Jasmine interrupted, standing up and holding out her hand.

You smiled and nodded, taking her hand and standing up. The two of you exited your apartment (after you made sure the door was locked) and made your way down the street.

“Is anywhere going to be open? It is quite late… god, I should’ve never left my apartment. I should’ve tried to finish that stupid song,” You said, sighing.

Jasmine smirked as the two of you came to a retro like diner with a flashing open sign above it. “Have I mentioned I like to take chances?” She asked, opening the door and holding it for you as you entered.

The diner looked like something straight of a 50’s movie. You looked around, taking in the plastic, flashing neon lights and the many, many posters of Elvis and Marilyn Munroe. You scoffed slightly, looking at Jasmine. “You sure this is a good idea?”

“We’ve both done a lot of questionable things tonight. This can just add to the list,” She replied, walking up to the counter and ordering a coffee for herself before letting you order one as well.

“What kind of questionable things would you be talking about?” You asked, taking a seat in one of the uncomfortable booths as the two of you waited for your coffees.

“Well, smashing a music stand against the wall was definitely your first questionable decision. What else would go on the list? Letting a stranger into your house, I could be a serial killer for all you know. Or even worse, I could be one of those annoying neighbours that’s always smiling and talkative,” Jasmine stated, shuddering.

“You mean like that old man across the hall? He’s sweet as anything, but I do have to agree. He is a bit annoying sometimes. I guess I’ve just grown to tolerate him,” You said, shrugging and smiling as your drinks were placed down in front of you.

It felt like time stood still as the two of you sat in that diner, chatting and laughing. You never had met anyone quite like her. You were shocked you hadn’t spoken to her before, you could’ve gotten along so well if you had met earlier.

A loud beeping sound coming from your phone interrupted the flow of the conversation and sent you back to reality. As you pulled out your phone to turn off the alarm, you gasped as you saw it was nearly midnight. The song hadn’t even begun… you were majorly screwed.

“Look Jasmine, this has been incredible but I think I have to go. If I don’t get this song in to my professor in the next fifteen minutes, it’ll go ungraded and that’ll bring all my grades down… it’ll pretty much be a disaster and I’ll never forgive myself. This was so lovely though…” You said, quickly standing and getting ready to run home.

Jasmine grabbed your hand before you could go, holding onto it tightly. “I think you worry about the future too much,” she stated, pulling you back into your seat. You raised your eyebrow, slipping your phone back into your pocket.

“You think so?” You asked quietly, your worries about the song disappearing as you looked into her eyes.

“I think that for tonight, you should just stay. Don’t worry about the future, don’t worry about the song! I think we’ve really got something special happening, and I don’t want to let it go yet. So please for tonight… stay?”

The millions of thoughts that flew through your head whenever you were doing anything seemed to stop when she began to talk. You admired the way her smile could light up a room, and how her voice seemed to flow like a never ending melody.

You never did hand in that song. That night and many more were spent in that diner, talking about your worlds and everything in them. You found yourself falling in love with Jasmine more and more every night.

Eventually, you handed in Midnight Coffee to your professor. A song about love, friendship, and an old diner that you couldn’t seem to leave.

youtube

NEW DEMO VIDEO Malekko Heavy Industry Ekko 616 MkII Dark Analog Delay

Read St Vincent’s beautifully sincere statement on her Grammy win


On Sunday, Annie Clark won the Grammy for best alternative music album while on tour in Australia. She posted a quick thank-you tweet on the night, then wrote this lovely open letter of sorts, sent out to her fan mailing list.

Read her reflections on the journey she’s taken, from first conceiving of the St Vincent project to this first Grammy triumph.

in 2007, i signed to beggars banquet records. i was living in dallas, texas in my childhood bedroom at the time, which i had fashioned into a makeshift studio in order to record some of what would end up being my debut album “marry me.”

the first days of touring my own songs and as “st. vincent” are very vivid. in early 2007, in anticipation of the release of my record, my (much beloved) agent put me on the road as solo support for jolie holland and midlake. he saw potential in me, but rightfully, thought i needed to get my live act together. get comfortable playing for people. get road-tested. like most of the rest of my career, it was a trial by earth, wind, and fire.

i was performing solo; just my voice, a guitar through an array of effects pedals, a “stomp board” — a homemade device i made out of a piece of plywood and a contact microphone that i ran through a bass EQ pedal, and a keyboard. i thought the keyboard looked unmysterious on it’s own, so i designed a lighted wooden enclosure to go around it. my brother-in-law helped me build it in his garage. it weighed a gazillion pounds and gave me splinters to carry, and i don’t think anyone was under any illusion that there was anything but a keyboard inside it. neither the first nor the last in a series of hilariously ill-fated ideas.

january 2007, i borrowed my father’s station wagon and drove 12 hours from dallas to frozen lincoln, nebraska to open for jolie holland (what a voice) at a half-full 150 capacity carpeted club. i believe the compensation was $250/gig but it could have been as much as $500 — more $ than i’d ever seen for a gig for sure and guaranteed, no less! in my memory, this midwestern jolie tour dovetailed right into opening the midlake tour. they were out in support of their excellent record, “the trials of van occupanther” and were the sweetest good texas boys you could ever hope to meet. the drummer of midlake, mackenzie smith, would later prove to be a great collaborator, playing on actor, strange mercy, and st. vincent.

on this tour, i’d enlisted my dear friend, jamil, to come and sell merch and help do the long drives. we’d just played a show in detroit and while we’d been inside, a blizzard had swept through and covered the stationwagon in snow and ice. it was treacherous. jamil, who always had some incredible hustle going, hired a homeless man named larry to dig the stationwagon out of the snow. (in college, he had a gold lexus, stripped it of the good parts, and resold it. when i asked if he was sad to see it go, he said, “girl, they think they bought a lexus but they bought a corolla.”) i’ll never forget driving out of bombed out-detroit, apocalyptic at 1 AM. interstate 94 tense and quiet, jamil trying to make sure we didn’t crash or stall on the icy road.

i have eaten years of veggie subway sandwiches on highways 10-90, stayed at a super 8 motel behind a kansas federal prison, peed in cups in dressing rooms when there was no bathroom, gotten eaten alive by bedbugs at a cincinnati days inn. i would not trade a single highway or city or moment or person i met for anything. i have loved it all.

i’m very grateful to have received this grammy. thank you to my producer john congleton, thank you family, thank you friends, thank you to all the incredible musicians involved, thank you managers and agents and publishers and labels and publicists and everyone who works hard at their jobs. and thank you guys. thanks for everything.

Thank You for the Grammy


2.9.2015


in 2007, i signed to beggars banquet records.  i was living in dallas, texas in my childhood bedroom at the time, which i had fashioned into a makeshift studio in order to record some of what would end up being my debut album “marry me.”  

the first days of touring my own songs and as “st. vincent” are very vivid.  in early 2007, in anticipation of the release of my record, my (much beloved) agent put me on the road as solo support for jolie holland and midlake.  he saw potential in me, but rightfully, thought i needed to get my live act together. get comfortable playing for people.  get road-tested.  like most of the rest of my career, it was a trial by earth, wind, and fire.  

i was performing solo; just my voice, a guitar through an array of effects pedals, a “stomp board” – a homemade device i made out of a piece of plywood and a contact microphone that i ran through a bass EQ pedal, and a keyboard.  i thought the keyboard looked unmysterious on it’s own, so i designed a lighted wooden enclosure to go around it.  my brother-in-law helped me build it in his garage.  it weighed a gazillion pounds and gave me splinters to carry, and i don’t think anyone was under any illusion that there was anything but a keyboard inside it.  neither the first nor the last in a series of hilariously ill-fated ideas.

january 2007, i borrowed my father’s station wagon and drove 12 hours from dallas to frozen lincoln, nebraska to open for jolie holland (what a voice) at a half-full 150 capacity carpeted club.  i believe the compensation was $250/gig but it could have been as much as $500 – more $ than i’d ever seen for a gig for sure and guaranteed, no less!  in my memory, this midwestern jolie tour dovetailed right into opening the midlake tour.  they were out in support of their excellent record, “the trials of van occupanther” and were the sweetest good texas boys you could ever hope to meet.  the drummer of midlake, mackenzie smith, would later prove to be a great collaborator, playing on actor, strange mercy, and st. vincent.  

on this tour, i’d enlisted my dear friend, jamil, to come and sell merch and help do the long drives.  we’d just played a show in detroit and while we’d been inside, a blizzard had swept through and covered the stationwagon in snow and ice.  it was treacherous.  jamil, who always had some incredible hustle going, hired a homeless man named larry to dig the stationwagon out of the snow.  (in college, he had a gold lexus, stripped it of the good parts, and resold it.  when i asked if he was sad to see it go, he said, “girl, they think they bought a lexus but they bought a corolla.”)  i’ll never forget driving out of bombed out-detroit, apocalyptic at 1 AM.  interstate 94 tense and quiet, jamil trying to make sure we didn’t crash or stall on the icy road.  
i have eaten years of veggie subway sandwiches on highways 10-90, stayed at a super 8 motel behind a kansas federal prison, peed in cups in dressing rooms when there was no bathroom, gotten eaten alive by bedbugs at a cincinnati days inn.  i would not trade a single highway or city or moment or person i met for anything.  i have loved it all.  

i’m very grateful to have received this grammy.  thank you to my producer john congleton, thank you family, thank you friends, thank you to all the incredible musicians involved, thank you managers and agents and publishers and labels and publicists and everyone who works hard at their jobs.  and thank you guys.  thanks for everything.  (via St. Vincent’s Official Newsletter)

It wasn’t until the age of 16 that music came back into the forefront. More mature and slightly more confident, Dan started writing and recording at his home in Wimbledon. This continued all the way through to university, where the standard mixture of drink and a lack of money would lead him to gain enough courage to play his first open mic nights.

Now two years on Dan Smith has truly become something of a cult hero. Garnering fans wherever he plays, this young songsmith arrives at gigs equipped with a keyboard, loop pedal and a host of other instruments including a kazoo. To see the performance live is the only way to believe it. With a perfectly played pop voice that sways into an operatic crescendo with a shocking amount of ease, he uses hand claps and beat boxing in conjunction with opposing key melodies to create a truly remarkable ensemble of sounds.

  • Guitar World: What were some of your main guitars for your most recent album, St. Vincent?
  • Annie Clark: I was playing this guitar that [producer] John Congleton had, the Thurston Moore edition of the Fender Jazzmaster. It’s super chopped—just a volume knob. You either like the way it sounds when you play it, or you don’t. I really like that on/off kind of thing. You don’t mess around with a million permutations. So I was using that a lot on the record, but I don’t play it live. For live work, I play the Music Man Albert Lee model a lot. I’m not a very large person, so even though I love the sound of a Seventies Les Paul, there’s no way in hell I could ever play one live unless I wanted to have a chiropractor on tour.
  • There’s a lot of functionality in my choice of instruments, especially for playing live. I’m using a Kemper modeling amplifier for live work. Originally I was bringing out vintage ’66 Kalamazoo kind of small amps—the kind of little guy that you could ram a lot of signal through and get a nice breakup and saturation and all of that. But I just stopped.
  • Those weirdo custom and vintage amps need a lot of attention on the road, and I didn’t want to make my guitar tech’s life a living hell. So I decided to go with straight-up Kemper. Which really works well, because my entire show is programmed, in terms of effects. I program my pedal board, and my keyboard player uses Ableton to send cues to switch programs, so I don’t have to look down at my pedal board. So both [co-guitarist/keyboardist] Toko [Yasuda] and I use Kemper modeling amplifiers, because they’re consistent.