steve scales

9

Stop Making Sense - 1984 (Directed by Jonathan Demme)

The Setlist [BONUS] - “I’d like to introduce the band by name.”

bbc.com
Steve Aoki: the man who works 361 days a year - BBC News
"When I'm not in the studio or touring and playing shows, I get fidgety," says DJ and producer Steve Aoki.

Next time you feel like a bit of a moan about how few holidays you get, spare a thought for DJ and producer Steve Aoki who plays 300 plus shows a year and takes less than an average working week off.

Okay, we understand the idea of travelling the globe and playing music to thousands of gibbering clubbers may not seem like work to most punters but the income tax man would beg to differ.

Anyway, we tracked Steve down on his uber-short vacation ahead of the Grammys where a Netflix film about his hectic lifestyle called I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead was nominated in the documentary category.

Steve also recently collaborated with One Directioner Louis Tomlinson on the track Just Hold On.

Steve, we’re speaking to you in Aspen, Colorado, how is it going?

It’s beautiful, I have a view of the mountains and the trees, it’s really nice.

Are you a country person at heart then or are you a city boy?

I’m a city boy that romanticises being away from the city.

300 shows a year and just four days off, is that all it takes to recharge the batteries?

I’ve got to take a break sometime, so I’m spending the days snowboarding and enjoying myself with my friends, I do that once a year and this is my four days off. I try to enjoy doing my hobbies. You get into a cycle and it becomes awkward when I’m not in the studio or touring and playing shows, I get fidgety, I have to get back into the grind. I’m lucky because I love what I do.

Where are you at your most creative?

That’s an interesting thing because before, I would have to find it in a a particular location but I’ve realised that my inspiration is everywhere I go and I need to be able to harness that and sometimes those moments of creativity are fleeting and you have to try and capture it when it comes. Luckily I get to travel the world and meet amazing creative people and you just have to be in the now and soak it in.

You spend most of the year travelling, what are your must-have travel items?

Just so I can survive, because I don’t have a regular sleep pattern, in order to sleep in a car or a plane, I have my eye-mask, my specific eye-mask, I have this obnoxious pillow I travel with and my headphones.

The most important bit about the eye mask is that it doesn’t touch my eyes so it looks like a bra for a doll, it’s bulging, I should paint some eyeballs on it. I put it on and it’s blacked out. I got my hood up, headphones on, if I’m travelling through Japan or China, I have a face-mask, you can’t tell who I am.

You’re working with the Migos, who were described by Donald Glover as ‘this generation’s Beatles’, what did he mean and do you agree?

I’ve know these guys for a long time, they played a show in Atlanta, we went into the studio and knocked out a song real quick. These guys are amazing, without writing anything down they get an idea and start vibing it out and just nail it in one go.

The thing about music is that you look at The Beatles and throughout history there are very few groups that define a sound and generation. That song Bad and Boujee is definitive of this time in America, of American culture, so I agree with Donald that they represent culture in a really massive way.

You had a new punk-influenced fashion collection showcased during New York fashion week, is this about scaling up 'Steve Aoki’ the brand?

I’ve been involved in fashion in one form or another for a long time, when I was 15 I was screen-printing shirts in my mum’s house for my first band and selling them on the road. So I knew it was something I wanted to do but it took a crazy long time for the Dim Mak collection to be ready.

We wanted to showcase it in the right way and so we turned the runway into a skate ramp so the energy of the [clothing] line was matched visually by what people were seeing as the skaters modelled the clothes.

You didn’t bother training models to skate then?

That would have been a disaster, we got some of New York’s best skaters that really knew how to rep the brand.

Lots of articles claimed New York fashion week was notable for how political some of the shows were. What is it like being a creative person working in Donald Trump’s America? Especially as a second-generation immigrant.

This is probably the worst period of time that I have lived in America, under this dictator-style, fascist president who is pushing his regime and clearing the rights of minorities, immigrants, women, the LGBT community, across the board - there are major steps backwards.

But one thing is for certain - the world is noticing that America itself is coming together and uniting as a voice. That’s why punk happened in the early 70s because it was the voice of protest and rebellion post-Vietnam and now its happening again. We’re having a renaissance. I’m excited about the voices and the people that are going to be speaking out.

There’s a lot of creative spirit, especially in music and the arts and fashion, it’s all part of a larger thing. The Rage Against The Machines of the world, they’re going to come back and inspire more people.

Can we expect some politically-charged material from you?

I can’t help it, it’s in my DNA and I’m not one to sit on the fence especially when something like this has shown its face. When I post something political or anti-Trump on my Facebook, some of the comments I get, you can’t believe how much ignorance is out there.

I might lose some fans by not staying neutral but I don’t have a choice, I have to use my voice.

“You shouldn’t be down here.”

Loki tilted his head, mindful not to knock any of the lights with his antlers. He hated fixing them.

Clint hopped further into the workshop, wings spread menacingly, talons shining like obsidian in the dim light. “You shouldn’t be down here,” he repeated coldly. “Tony’s not here. It’s not allowed.”

“And yet you are here,” Loki pointed out idly, side-stepping a stool to lean down and examine a truly peculiar-looking device on the table.

“I saw you come down here. You need to leave,” Clint insisted, hopping after him. He let out an irritated sigh when the other monster swiveled to examine the three robots huddled fearfully in the corner. “Leave them alone! You’re scaring them!”

Loki ignored him, instead reaching out to tap one blunt finger to the closest robot’s claw. It flinched away from him and beeped, and then the other two robots let out shrill screeches and lunged at him with their claws threateningly. One threw a fire extinguisher at him.

Loki drew his hand back, not afraid, but concerned the little creatures might rush him anyway. “I did not know humans could still make these.”

Clint paused, talons curling into the floor. “…Make what?”

“Golems,” Loki replied, taking another step back when the clunkiest of the bunch lunged at him again. “The last I had heard of was in Prague, called Yossele. That was… five centuries ago? I had thought the art had been lost.”

Clint hopped over, wings spread awkwardly. He hated looking so much like a bird in front of this guy. “Yeah? I heard Tony made his first one when he was fourteen.” He couldn’t help his crest rising proudly when the other monster looked reluctantly impressed. “Isn’t that right, Dum-E?”

The clunkiest robot beeped and spun in a circle.

Loki covered his mouth with his hand to hide an amused smile. He did not remember Yossele being so rambunctious. Then again, it had been quite busy protecting its Jewish community at the time. “I would have never been able to imagine a metal golem.”

“Yeah,” Clint murmured. “Tony is a clever human. He even made a golem without a body.”

“You mean The Voice, Jarvis?” Loki asked, turning to look at him. “He is not a demon whom Tony has wrested control over?”

Clint shook his head slowly, frowning. “No. I remember when he was creating him at first, he would spend hours at his computer. The closer he got to finishing, the more wild he looked. When Jarvis finally spoke, Tony had been awake for several days. And then he burst into tears.”

“Interesting,” Loki admitted, and finally turned away from the robots. He did not remember how long it took to create Yossele, but he did remember Judah Loew ben Bezale celebrating when the golem protected them. “Is crying Anthony’s typical manner of celebration?”

“Man, he’d been awake for several days. Anyone would cry after years of hard work paid off,” Clint scoffed. “Now come on. We’re not supposed to be down here without permission ever since Bucky accidentally set himself on fire. With the exception of Steve because his scales protect him.”

Loki pretended that didn’t worry him and followed the other monster out of the workshop.


Bucky and Steve were morose.

“Unbecoming,” Natasha said.

Loki did not snort. He wanted to. “Quite.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Steve ordered without his usual heat. He slithered off the couch and onto the floor. “Why does he have to leeeeave?”

“Tony’s very important,” Bucky replied, trying to sound proud, but mostly sounding petulant. “The humans need his time.”

“Humans can go blow!” Steve snapped, then slithered under the couch.

Loki leaned toward Natasha, frowning.

“Yeah, I have no idea. Basically he wants humans to just leave Tony alone because they’re hogging him.”

“Oh,” Loki said, and only vaguely understood. “Where is Anthony?”

Natasha shrugged. “Showing off some new bomb. The humans are excited about it.”

“Anthony makes… bombs?”

“Weapons,” she amended. “Of all sorts. It would be disappointing except for the way he gushes about keeping America’s troops safe.I don’t understand humans and their wars, but I can respect that Tony wants to keep people safe.”

Loki frowned thoughtfully. “With the golems he created, I had expected him to be purely a creator. Not a destroyer as well.”

Natasha turned to stare at him, then assumed when he said ‘golems’ that he meant Tony’s robots. “Tony’s a human,” she said after a moment. “They’ve always created and destroyed. Holding Tony to a different standard simply because he is more brilliant than other humans would be unfair.”

“Mm,” Loki hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. Anthony was an interesting human, at least. The creatures were so vapid these days, it was refreshing to find one that was different. He could not say whether he liked or disliked the boy, but he was interested to see what more he could create.

“Guys!” Bruce exclaimed, bursting into the living room. “Guys!

Loki stepped back further into the shadows. He did not fear Bruce. But the creature he turned into… that creature was a terrifying mixture of Old and new, a creature of rage and instinct. He stayed out of its way as much as possible.

Steve slithered out from under the couch in concern, and Bucky unfolded from being curled up on top of one of Tony’s old sweaters. Clint hopped around to face the room instead of glaring outside. Natasha took a step forward, face set into a serious mask to hide the trepidation the tone Bruce had taken had caused.

“I was listening–I was listening to the radio,” Bruce panted, clutching his chest. His eyes flickered green and brown. “To hear what Tony–To keep at least an ear on him-! His convoy was attacked! He–everyone’s dead–”

It felt as if the room had dropped several degrees.

Bruce clutched the doorway, making an annoyed sound when he crushed it in his palm, wood splintering everywhere. “Not–Not Tony. But the soldiers he was with–they, they’re all dead. Tony–they took Tony.”

Clint let out a horrified screech.

“What do we do?” Bucky asked quickly, standing. “Bruce, what do we do?”

“All we know is that he’s in Afghanistan,” Bruce admitted, the green in his eyes staying longer, visibly struggling to keep to this form. “And there’s–there’s mountains and caves. It would take so long to find him–who knows what condition he’d be in by the time we got there.”

Steve writhed anxiously for a few seconds, then steeled himself. “We have to do something. We can’t just–just leave him out there!”

“The people there are very religious, or very superstitious,” Natasha pointed out. “We’re monsters. They’ll shoot first and ask questions later. We won’t be any good to Tony dead.”

Clint crushed the windowsill in his talons angrily. “We won’t be any good to Tony sitting on our asses, either!”

Bruce let out a wounded sound before he roared, and suddenly the Hulk was there instead, destroying the rest of the doorway, reaching out to grab one of the couches and flinging it across the room.

“Br–Hulk!” Steve exclaimed helplessly. “No! We need–we can’t just destroy things until we figure something out-!”

Loki stepped forward, scowling, gold threads wrapping around the Hulks arms before he could throw anything or anyone else. “This is not conducive to a rescue, creature.

The Hulk roared, and tugged, and his hooves skidded across the floor in the effort to hold the other monster tight in the gold threads

“You will not threaten me,” Loki said, even though he felt frightened, even though this monster of Old and new was tugging his magic around like so much paper. “You will not threaten me while a Creator needs you to stay calm. You are doing him no service destroying his things.”

Hulk roared again, swinging around, and Loki nearly–nearly–yelped as his hooves skidded across the floor again, losing his balance.

Clint caught him by the antlers with a screech, holding him upright. “Don’t let him go!”

Loki had no intention of doing so, because he was quite certain that the Hulk would turn his aggression on him instead. Still, he couldn’t help his surprise when Steve and Natasha both ran at and then leapt upon the monster.

Steve’s tail constricted around the Hulk’s arms, holding them in place, and Natasha skittered as quickly as she could, wrapping her silk around him, trying to keep him pinned. Bucky scrambled over to press his back against Loki’s front, his paw pads much more suited to the wooden floor than the Old monster’s hooves.

The Hulk continued to roar angrily, struggling, but with the combined force of Loki’s magic and Natasha’s silk, they eventually subdued him. Loki didn’t relax until the other monster stopped roaring, and still kept a thread of magic wrapped around him just in case.

“…Let us never do that again,” Loki suggested, and the other four monsters nodded tiredly.

“What are we going to do?” Natasha asked softly, and it was… most concerning, to see how her shoulders hunched and the way she twisted her fingers in fear. “There are so many nooks and crannies in the desert where he could be. I–I’m not suited for the desert, really. I… could manage perhaps. But I would definitely be out of place.”

Bucky sat down on the floor, looking forlorn. “It would be too hot for me with my fur, wouldn’t it? And the sands would blow around so much–I wouldn’t find a scent anyway.”

“I could?” Steve offered, but then his face crumpled. “I’m no tracker, though. I’d survive and then have nothing to show for it. It’s no use, me going, if I have no idea where he’d be.”

“And it’s not like I could help you with that,” Clint admitted bitterly, roosting on Loki’s antlers. “If they have him in a cave, I’d have no idea.”

Loki opened his mouth to tell him to get off, but the other monster wasn’t heavy, and he was… quite tired after that struggle. “…I know someone who could help.”

“Will they eat him?” Steve asked immediately.

Loki gaped at him, appalled.

“I was going to eat him the first time we met,” Natasha explained.

“…Well,” Loki said.

“Tony bribed me with soup.”

“WELL.”

“So will they eat him, or not?” Bucky asked, scowling. “Because if there’s a chance they’ll eat him, we decline. Strenuously.”

“He will not eat Anthony,” Loki sighed, and allowed himself the luxury of rolling his eyes, hard. “…Admittedly, he has not had much interaction with present-day humans, howev–”

Clint squawked. “You wanna send one of your kind after him!? They’re totally gonna eat him!”

“He will not!” Loki snapped, and then scolded himself, fuming, for sounding like a child. “This is his only chance. We can’t just let him gallivant all over looking for Anthony,” he added, motioning at the Hulk.

The monsters grumbled angrily, but truly, their hands were tied. There was no telling if Jim had been killed or injured when the convoy was attacked, so Tony could very well be all alone out there. All alone, and possibly injured, and maybe wondering if someone could come help him, like they’d done before.

They couldn’t just leave him out there. So they agreed.


Tony shivered. He could hear thunder rumbling in the distance. “You get many storms out here?”

Yinsen hummed thoughtfully as he stared down at the backgammon board. “Depends on the season, really.”

Thunder rumbled again. Tony kind of wished he was closer to the entrance of the cave, so he could see the lightning and count to see how close the storm was.

Yinsen lifted his head, frowning. “…It’s not the season, though.”

Tony covered his ears as thunder suddenly crashed… in the cave? The Ten Rings were yelling, and shooting, but the thunder came again, only… only it sounded an awful lot like roaring.

Tony yelped when the cave lit up, electricity crackling over the walls. Yinsen was yelling something, clutching at him, dragging him toward the back of the cave. Tony turned and choked back a scream when he saw the hulking figure there, one of his captors crushed under a single, massive paw.

10

A very happy 70th birthday to my favorite guitarist of all time, Stephen James Howe!

I talk about him all the time which must be really annoying by now, but I can’t really place my love for Steve on a scale. I see myself in him, actually. Introverted, creative, brimming with passion. A male version of what I wish I could be. I wish I could be as driven as he is, and that I had his creative genius. I think that’s what’s drawn me to him in the first place. I saw something in him that I felt maybe was somewhat obtainable. Maybe I could be like him someday.

I’m not there yet. In fact, I don’t think I’ll entirely reach my goal that I’ve set for myself, but I can damn well try to get as close as possible. I owe so much to Steve Howe and I hope that I’ll be able to tell him that myself someday.

Keep on rockin’, Steve. I love you with all my heart 💜✨💖

Talking Heads, “Take Me to the River,” The Name of This Band Is Talking Heads

Covering the Rev. Al with my favorite of their live units, the Bernie Worrell, Dolette McDonald, Busta Jones, Steve Scales funk band of 1980. David Byrne’s angular whiteboy funk–and chutzpah–in evidence as he essays this soul classic. And totally nails it with the help of a great band.

Bonus:

Here’s Al Green on Soul Train, just tearing the hell out of this tune:

Ninja (Steve Harrington x reader)

Summary:Steve sneaks into the reader’s bedroom, and is a romantic sap.

Warnings:Steve being a little shit, light kissing.

“Hey, heey (y/n). (y/n)!” Steve ran towards his girlfriend.“Heey babe, stop walking away from me baaaby!” Being Steve’s girlfriend was probably the most exhausting job ever. Steve Harrington is a man-child mixed with a horny teen who wears too much hair-gel. But despite all that, he’s a total sweet-heart and is very attached to his girlfriend. A bit too attached at times, like now.

“Steve, not now I have class. We’ll talk later, okay?” Leaning up, she placed a quick kiss on his cheek and headed off to class, leaving a sulking Steve standing alone in the hall.

Once school let out, (y/n) waited outside her friend Barbara’s class, and as they walked to (y/n)’s locker together, something was on Barb’s mind.

“Hey (y/n), how’s it going between you and Steve?” The bespectacled girl knew about Steve’s past with the girls, but she trusted him to not break her friend’s heart. But before (y/n) could answer her question, Steve ran towards her and grabbed his girlfriend.

“Sorry Barb, gotta kidnap this hottie,” Steve grabbed her hand and dragged her to an empty hallway. Placing kisses up and down her neck, he slowly moved up to her face, his lips lightly ghosting over hers. Leaning in (y/n) kissed Steve hard, not wanting to let go. Pulling away slightly, Steve grabbed her lower lip with his teeth and spoke against her lips. “Can I come over tonight? We can finish what we started here,” throwing a playful glare his way, (y/n) shook her head no at his request.

“Steve, as much as I would love to have you over, it’s a school night. You know how my parents are, no friends over on school nights,” lightly kissing his forehead, she pulled away from his embrace and walked towards an exit.

Running after her, he grabbed her wrist and pulled the teen back. “Come on (y/n), I’ll sneak in like a ninja, we’ll talk, study, maybe make out for a li-”

“Bye bye Stevie!” she pulled away from his grasp, blowing a kiss to her boyfriend, she left him standing there, with a dumb love-struck expression on his face.

————————————————————————————————-

Later that night (y/n) was lying down on her bed, a calm tune played while she read ‘Of Mice and Men’ for school. Something hit the window near her desk, but the teen ignored the noise. But when it happened three more times, she realized she couldn’t hold off her curiosity off anymore. Opening her window, she saw Steve standing outside getting ready to throw another rock.

“Hey (y/n)!"he yelled, "I’m coming on up, move out of the way!” next thing she knew, Steve was scaling the wall, and climbed in through her bedroom window and fell on the hardwood floor. “See! Just like a ninja!”

“What are you doing here Steve? My parents are sleeping right down the hall!"whispering with an angry tone is a skill she managed to master. Rubbing her eyes, she sighed. "Why did you come Steve, we could get in major trouble!”

Leaning towards her so their noses where touching, Steve whispered along with her. “What, no 'thank you Steve, my wonderful and super hot boyfriend for sacrificing his life by doing such a dangerous and bad-ass stunt just to see his beautiful girlfriend?’” she closed the gap, and locked lips with the brunette.

“Fine, thank you ninja Steve,”

“Hey, you forgot the super hot part!”

————————————————————–

Thank you for reading! Requests are open, so feel free to drop a request in our ask box! Please do not reupload any of my stories! Gif is not mine.

Masterlist

Request

anonymous asked:

Hi, could you please do a Steve Harrington imagine where he has a free house and throws a party (not like in the show but a big house party or smth) but he only cares about you going?? Thank you so much, I love your writing btw!!!

Rooftops

Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader (lowkey some barcy shit)

Warnings: low level anxiety, Barb appears, cursing

Words: 1.6k

A/N: y'all I’m tryin to do a lot of my requests and asks but I’m usually on mobile and there’s school and my own issues and my neurodivergence so try to be more understanding! I appreciate you guys so much but I need my own time. p.s. I’ll be adding tags and all that tomorrow night! As always, feel free to correct me if i messed up anything, considering I didn’t even proofread this. Without further ado have some flustered Steve Harrington :)

Tags: @societaluproar @dotnick12

Steve Harrington didn’t get rejected. Not by anyone he asked out.

If you had conducted a survey in Hawkins, Indiana and asked every single person who was capable of having feelings for a boy if they would date Steve Harrington, the answer would undeniably be a yes, definitely, absolutely. He’d never been stood up once in his life, and maybe that was why he was so confused when you weren’t anywhere to be found in his crowded house on a Friday night, dancing and laughing like everybody else. Well, everybody else but Steve. Right then, he was sitting on the couch, head in one hand and cigarette in the other, anxiously messing with his hair. The only person there that he really knew and liked was Nancy because Jonathan refused to come, not until later anyways. Every time the door opened, his breath would be caught in his throat until it was just another person with too many worries and a criminal lack of alcohol looking to even the scales.

Keep reading

I Love You, Man (Part 7/?) (Avengers/MCU cast x reader)

Part 6

“There’s nowhere to land,” Steve growled.  “Stark, just hold position over the roof and I’ll jump down.”  He hurried to the back of the jet with Tony struggling to get into the pilot seat fast enough to hold it in place.  “Bring it in as close as you can.”  His fist slammed against the door control and he stood ready, waiting for it to fully lower and walking out to its edge.

Keep reading