this is my (mostly) music blog. i wanted a space where i could wax poetically about all the bands and artists i love. (my heart and my cd collection is v. v. big.) you'll also find a smattering of writing related things, since that's what i'm doing these days, along with other pop culture miscellanea.
things you need to know: i live in chicago, but i used to live in new york city. i go to a lot of shows. i stopped being ashamed of my musical tastes a long time ago. the first time i heard "eleanor rigby" by the beatles, i was nine years old and i still get goosebumps when i hear those opening strings. i sing - trained in opera, musical theater, and everything in between.
“I don’t suppose I really know you very well - but I know you smell like the delicious damp grass that grows near old walls and that your hands are beautiful opening out of your sleeves and that the back of your head is a mossy sheltered cave when there is trouble in the wind and that my cheek just fits the depression in your shoulder.”
—Zelda Fitzgerald, in a letter to F. Scott Fitzgerald
Then I started thinking maybe we actually represent something to people, maybe when they hear the name “Foo Fighters” they just think rock’n’roll, and I thought, “Wow, that’s cool.” Then over the years playing shows I’d look out at the audience and see kids with Nirvana shirts and their parents with Foo Fighters shirts — which seems upside down — and I’d see moustaches and kids at their first rock concert. Our audience became so diverse I thought, “Man, they just want to see a rock show.” Go see Bruce Springsteen. Go see Tom Petty, AC/DC, Roger Waters, any of these people. Go see Pearl Jam or Soundgarden. I went to see Soundgarden four or five months ago; I didn’t stand in the VIP section, I ran down and got crushed in front of the stage and danced around sweaty with a bunch of people I didn’t know for an hour and 45 minutes.
Will Grayson, Will Grayson by John Green and David Levithan
Clearly I need to read this book, because it is singing my life with its words.
Feelings and thoughts.
seriously, any of you that have not yet read will grayson, will grayson need get on it. it’s the kind of young adult novel that i can only hope mine will be. also, it has some of the greatest lines ever, including the ones above and my personal favorite: “how am i dating this sprinkled donut of a person?”
For what it’s worth: it’s never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of. If you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again.
If you want to write, read a lot, then write a lot. Write all the time… and never, ever worry if you’re bad. I’m bad every day. My first drafts are some rough road. You just have to not be afraid of sucking.
We are a generation told not to try too hard. The world is going to shit, so why break a sweat? We are reminded daily not to trust our gut or follow our hearts, your dreams are unattainable and unrealistic…Fear is the eternal enemy. If they can keep you scared, they can keep you controlled. We too came face to face with this saboteur, and found the strength to break through and carry on. We are here as a reminder that the world is not better off without you… these are dangerous days we live in and you, the artists, are our last defense. Art is the Weapon. Your Imagination is the Ammunition. Stay Dirty, and Stay Dangerous. Create and Destroy as you see fit. Embrace your Originality. The Aftermath is Secondary. You can and should do Anything…Love what you do and who you truly are. Be willing to die for it. If you are true to yourself, you can never go wrong. And remember when life gives you lemons, MCR says start a fucking band.
New York had a way of doing that. Every now and then the city shook its soul out. It assailed you with an image, or a day, or a crime, or a terror, or a beauty so difficult to wrap your mind around that you had to shake your head in disbelief.
He had a theory about it. It happened, and re-happened, because it was a city uninterested in history. Strange things occurred precisely because there was no necessary regard for the past. The city lived in a sort of everyday present. It had no need to believe in itself as a London, or an Athens, or even a signifier of the New World, like a Sydney, or a Los Angeles. No, the city couldn’t care less about where it stood. He had seen a T-shirt once that said NEW YORK FUCKIN’ CITY. As if it were the only place that ever existed and the only one that ever would.
New York kept going forward precisely because it didn’t give a good goddamn about what it had left behind.
This is the song that says it all – you need to strap that person down and say, “Sit still. Stop struggling, you won’t get free. Listen. This is what I need to say to you. But I’m not articulate enough, brilliant enough, or brave enough.” Bravery is what it comes down to. Songs that can touch raw emotion are also a remarkable display of vulnerability; the writer puts his or her innermost thoughts out for the world to listen to. It must be incredibly scary to commit your memories to the recording studio, but also freeing. And, if you do it well, satisfying.
Anyone who understands how standing in a crowd of sweaty people, elbow to elbow, screaming along to the words embedded in your heart, can give you the most happiness ever needed. When you’re shoved against a sea of bodies and you don’t know what sweat actually belongs to you or your neighbour, you can barely breathe and in that moment, your favourite song starts playing and you forget about everything: all you’re concerned with is the melody, rhythm, and beat of the song. All you care about is singing your heart out and knowing it’s okay to love something maybe a little too much as long as it’s real to you.