shades of cool (lana del rey) girls (the 1975) i know what boys like (the waitresses) lolita (lana del rey) whatever lola wants (sarah vaughn) national anthem vs bubblegum bitch (lana/marina mashup) candy store (heathers: the musical) bend and snap (leagally blonde: the musical) it’s raining on prom night (grease: the musical) donatella (myrtle snow AHS remix) cherry bomb (kylie minouge) toxic (britney spears) that girl (ts madison) attention whore (melleefresh vs. deadmau5) would you say thank you if i spank you? (the turbomen) gods and mosters (lana del rey) million dollar man (lana del rey) young and beautiful (lana del rey) yayo (lana del rey) 400 lux (lorde) yellow flicker beat (lorde) earned it (the weekend) skinny love (birdy) homewrecker (marina and the diamonds) house of the rising sun (lauren o'connell) shades of cool (lana del rey) big spender (fosse) glory box (portishead) fear and loathing (marina and the diamonds) happy (marina and the diamonds)
we get used
to telling our stories to
one pair of eyes, one smile, one
pattern of freckles.
we come home looking for that,
for someone who can help us
record our existence and
i couldn’t remember
where i put my keys
or when the last time
i ate was but
i am learning to keep track of myself;
to split my story
among the people i love, to
keep some of it
in my art, in journals, in
songs i haven’t shared with you.
i have learned to tell my story
to the trees and bees and floorboards,
i have found myself in these secrets
that belong to my bedroom, my toenails,
nostalgia wants me to take you back
have back those eyes that
spent more time on your phone than looking at me,
have back that smile that grew tight,
and while once my hero was you,
the book i’ve printed in the new carpet
There’s a track from the early 1980s called Cloreen Baconskin that’s 15 minutes long, and is basically just a jam session with him playing bass and putting on a strange voice. I played it when I was DJing in Brussels and people kept coming up and asking me what it was because the voice is so raw and the drumming is so amazingly simple.
Photo: Warner Brothers /Retna.
He took pop to brave new places
Prince was a pop musician – he never went off and made an unlistenable avant-garde record. But he could still do disorientating things in the studio.
Photo: E. Aaron/Redferns
He was the ultimate rarities artist
Some stuff from the Parade era is great, such as Others Here With Us, a bizarre and frightening song. Movie Star, which came out on the Crystal Ball compilation, is another favorite – it’s a witty send-up of a successful person in the mid-80s who does loads of drugs and attends all the premieres.
Photo: Brian Rasic/Rex Features.
He was one of the great showmen
When it comes to playing live, Prince was just so confident in his ability. He teased the crowd with segues between popular songs, covers and extended versions, and was quite happy to play slow jams for half an hour if that’s what he felt like.
Photo: Allstar/Warner Brothers.
He is a lifelong inspiration
It’s mainly the actual groove – the way melodic and rhythmic patterns interlock together – that we take from him. But sometimes he’s influenced me directly. The song Hittin’ Skittles was about someone I knew.
We are a not-for-profit, fan-run archive of live music by Sufjan Stevens. We will soon start posting and cataloguing all recordings we have collected since the early 2000s in the highest quality available. We’ve decided to start this project because a lot of this material has been slowly falling out of circulation over the years - or it is being circulated after being transcoded, posted on YouTube, ripped to MP3 again, and so on. By providing a permanent place for them, we hope to prevent these recordings from disappearing or becoming unlistenable after decades of lossy conversions.
If you have an upgrade for a gig we have posted (or an entirely new recording we are missing), we will be very happy to host it.
Lastly, this site contains no commercially available music, and we encourage the purchase of all of Sufjan’s studio albums. This is in line with this comment by Asthmatic Kitty’s John Beeler: “I’d say do whatever you like! We have no interest in hunting down bootlegs. As a personal opinion I think they’re great. Thanks for your support. It’s so appreciated.”
In “The Sad Internet: 2014 Year in Review” Rob Walker gives a tour of a collection of great projects, including Forgetify (which takes you to unlistened-to Spotify songs), NoLikesYet (which shows you unliked Instagram photos) and Sad Tweets (which reveals the tweets of yours that haven’t been liked or retweeted).
He also calls this blog “a pioneer of the form.” Woohoo!
I also recommend this piece on Medium from Rob, called “How To Pay Attention.” If you’ve contributed to this site over the past years (and a lot of you have), you’ll get it!
Who wants to start a podcast with me? The first episode will have horrible audio quality so we can basically write that one off, but I’m hoping for the second one we can maybe make fun of a bad movie or some kooks on the internet and make some super sick jokes. We’ll do the same thing in the third episode except instead of entirely new jokes we’ll also re-use ones from the previous episode so that they’re enshrined as running gags. The fourth episode will be us answering listener questions for five hours and the fifth one will be made up entirely of recycled material from the first four episodes and be entirely unlistenable.
a film plays in the background, unlistened and misheard, and the blankets swamp in paisley tangles around the both of us. you are unsteady: leaning forward, pulling back, your lips play snow-breezes with mine, until eventually they crumble, a serac onto my gums, quiet. you float, poudrin, against the rose-skin of my mouth, until our hands touch, and we break apart. your breath comes light and frosty, and i hide myself inside.
the heaving swansong of the rain in the trees jerks us apart, but you remedy by whispering exultations into the webbing of my fingers. the wind rattles the glass panes into unsteady heartbeats, but the gym is only holding us. you wrap your fingers into my hair for the first time, pressing bites to the gap between my fleshy jaw and neck, and push me slowly downward.
your teeth catch on my mouth for a moment, harrowing through the blood and the flesh until all i can think of is your mouth, red from cherry-aid and biting. you taste of salad cream, mint bubblegum, ruination, and the moonlight wilts when it touches my hands in your hair. your hands lift up my shirt, and we fall into the quickstep, stagefighting, a scene heated in between clothing creases.
you stink of face paint and gum arabic, costume still clinging to your forearms, chest an oilslick of colourlessness sweat. laughing, bounding, our teeth crack together, and the stage door swings lachrymose.
the morning is overcast, and so is your tongue. you press tepid kisses into my voiding mouth until you taste toothpaste, drawing balmy backwards, knowing you have wiped my day clear.
“It’s unlistenable - that record was a calling card for rock critics and hardcorers, [saying] “This is what I do, and I’m not going to back down from it. I am announcing my persona as a cunt. Thank you very much." - CL, about ‘
Pretty on The Inside
“Live Through This was competing with Kurt, because he would write, like, ‘Dumb’ and 'Rape Me’ in the same twenty minutes, and I was, like, "fuck you, I’m gonna go and try my best.” It was well intentioned, it was my best effort at the time. I think I’m an arrogant person - you have to be to have my job - but I don’t think it’s as great as people think it is.
I know why people like [Live Through This]. It gets girls of a certain age through a certain period, I think. That’s the demographic constant of it. But that record was about, live through this media shit, live through this war. It didn’t mean… What it came to mean.” - CL, on the legacy of ‘ Live Through This ’.
“It was very difficult to make. What we wanted to achieve musically were great songs, great classic rock songs - We wrote in New Orleans first and we also wanted to try different geographies i think, we wrote in New York as well, we tried in Memphis and ended up writing the record in Los Angeles, wich you also might know the record is about LA in a lot of levels. I don’t think Live Trough This is as great as people think it is. I don’t listen to it the way I listen to Celebrity Skin. That record has some things about it that I like better, in terms of sonics.” - CL on making
‘ Celebrity Skin ‘ and the final product.
Warped Tour Warriors: Why We Have the Right to Complain
by Erik van Rheenen
On Friday morning, Texas Standard Time, Houston will ring in the twentieth iteration of the Vans Warped Tour, ringing in a proud summer-long tradition of punks and scene kids alike (and everyone in between) making the pilgrimage to the nearest arena, outdoor music center, or oversized parking lot for a day of catching sets from their favorite bands and grumbling under their breath as they get blindsided by spurts of unlistenable metalcore or feeling the wub of EDM pulsing from some sidestage as they unfurl their map, trying to remember where the fuck the Tilly’s stage is this year.
“What are they doing in the lineup?” They’ll ask, presumably with a roll of the eyes, or perhaps a disapproving shake of the head. “This isn’t the Warped Tour I remember.”
Warped Tour lineup discussions have always — at least in recent memory — been peppered with critiques from armchair concert bookers (same diagnosis as Armchair Quarterback Syndrome, but with delusions of being Kevin Lyman instead of, say, Peyton Manning), but 2014 in particular has levied enough jaded old-punk thoughts to be fathomed into constellations of complaints.
Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if Warped Tour officials made audible complaining a criminal offense during this year’s tour, punishable by being forced a microphone and a half-hour slot of covering Ronnie Radke raps in the Acoustic Basement tent, a cappella.
Does all our faultfinding and nitpicking of each five-band burst of an announcement we do actually get us anywhere?
There are two schools of thought on the issue — well, that’s at least the case in my one-man How Can We Fix the Monolith That is Warped Tour mental think tank — but unlike the two Robert Frostian diverging in the yellow wood, both schools converge at the same conclusion: we, as fans, have all the right in the world to let fly our complaint flags.
I’m feeling very sad and angry and unlistened to right now. That’s why it’s so important you understand me. I saw a terrible thing this afternoon. I saw what happens when we’re not loved and protected and we feel so alone.
Various sources chiding those of us who are not papering our social media streams with Ferguson-related content, implying we are somehow not fully empathetic to the good guys, or, far worse, that we are somehow enabling the bad guys because…
Because why, exactly? Because we aren’t executing a few clicks and keystrokes? Because we aren’t either sermonizing into an echo chamber, or raging at an unlistening void, or stirring a hornet’s nest of pseudo-friends, coworkers, and distant cousins who aren’t coming around to the side of the angels no matter what we say?
How about this: I’ll manage my social media as I see fit, which, on a day like today, is pretty much to ignore it. And what I’ll do, instead, is work today–like I do every day, as hard as I can–to 1) understand and check my own massive privilege, 2) raise my two children to be empathetic and loving, and 3) make my real waves where they might actually wear down some rocks: in my workplace and in my community.
I’m not criticizing anyone who is choosing to vent or raise awareness or do whatever it is they’re doing today to get through. Whatever works; whatever feels right. But that’s gotta apply to everyone.