'Geeks unite' journals, kurt cobain 1991


Why Listen To Complex Music?
by W. Walter

1
How many times have you heard somebody blurt out, "I don't understand this music" when they were confronted by something they weren't familiar with or didn't immediately like? This sort of statement isn't always intended in a literal sense, but why should one have to "understand" music? Is it imperative to "understand" music in order to like it? Can anyone ever truly "understand" a piece of music? Does an uneducated listener really "understand" anything about music on even a basic level? These points are completely open to debate, because there are shadows of doubt surrounding all of them.

2
With even the dopiest, lowest-common-denominator Pop tune, one will never truly know the true motivations or become privy to the deepest subtexts of intention by the artist. The nature of the human experience is far too nebulous to ever conclusively analyze art. Regardless, we can sure amuse ourselves trying! Although some music seems so desperate to wear a badge of transparent earnestness on its sleeve, there remains a constant guarantee of misinterpretation by the public at large. The net effect of artistic work often grows larger than the original intent of the maker, regardless of how focused that impetus may have been at the point of creation. The experience of music to a listener is wholly subjective at every level. One can only filter all of this sound information through one's own perception, needs, likes, wants, education and standards. Many people project their desires onto art, looking to find a symbol for their own platonic ideals. No two individuals will ever share the exact same ideal or absolutely agree on every single possible matter of taste.

3
I have listened to a lot of what many other folks probably consider "difficult", "challenging" or "complex" music. None of these attributes are qualitative in the sense that they are automatically equivalent with music being "good". Just because music is complex doesn't mean I care for it: most of the intricately sophisticated serialism by a composer like Milton Babbitt leaves me cold despite the fact that I respect and relate to the incredible rigor of his compositional methods and constructions. I am not concerned with any notions of "ultimate" complexity, nor am I only interested in "complex" music. However, there are many examples of recorded work I have consistently revisited over the decades which have pushed various levels of structural, melodic, harmonic, rhythmic, timbral and conceptual sophistication.

bombay bicycle club, the naked and famous at reading festival



fwd>> with skream, metronomy at reading festival

some of the bands i've seen in london, were in singapore for a festival over the weekend.
caught metronomy again, and the jezabels from sydney—pretty fun!


——




kip berman from 'the pains of being pure at heart' posted this quote.
i really would like to read this book someday.

reposting this thinking it seems synonymous with an update about music writing. have not been updating as regularly trying to avoiding depressing regurgitation of thought streams regarding life, exhaustion, happiness. not to be confused with not feeling blessed with the current state of life, merely dont really feel like sharing, 'blogging' now feels like a modern juxtaposition of daily reveries not excitable as it used to be.

i will, however, share some of the reviews i've done under a writing programme at esplanade. mostly to keep track of my (hopeful) progress, am open to thoughts on these writings you can email me, address found under 'profile'. current writings are waiting to be approved for publication and soon updated here as well. although it can be a liiiiitle bit of a pressure to be in a writing programme—it has proven to be helpful in the lines of self-satisfaction and dealing with words have always been pretty therapeutic. duely hope that time permits for more reading to give an inch in the dwell of my word well.

there's banging on the wall it's 5am i've got no sleep at all, just thoughts of how i might struggle through tomorrow. too much time in one day too much time to occupy with boring thoughts, boring moods, boring bedtimes. won't tell a single soul that my soul's gone, it's hard to write this song it's all a joke it's all been wrote down by someone that's probably dead. i might be leaving soon. there's laughter from below it's 1am how could you have known, the thoughts of silence that keep me from going back to sleep at night. wish i could call someone i love to stop thinking of myself long look in the mirror, just look so empty. you were right i can't do this i'm going crazy it's fine by me now you can see how much i've become empty. i might be leaving soon. my dreams full of what's not real. i'll fly away and save the world i'll make you proud someday. i just won't be around to see your face. my life is full of what's not here. i'll fly away and save myself i'll make you proud someday. i just won't be around to see your face.

'Everything is Transitory'
By Alvelyn Alko

when you loose someone whom you really love to search their way in life or happiness that is, you kind of feel like its the most painful thing ever. the worst is knowing that you are not enough to make this love happy. you cant love the way they want to be loved. i think knowing that they cant make you happy is less worst. atleast all you had to do was lower your expectations. there was something that you could do. but to know you cant make someone happy or love them the way they want to be loved is pain. people say that there is no way you would not fall in love all over again. i agree. there is no way that you could possibly only fall in love with one person in your whole life time knowing that there is not another one that you could possibly fall in love with and have that love returned to you. there will always be another someone. always. its come to a point where i really feel that love isn’t just an emotion or feeling anymore, its completely beyond that and its really a choice after a certain transition. sometimes the one whom you love the most isn’t the one you will be spending the rest of you life with. choice. people choose the best for themselves. people always do. even in the most immersed heartfelt love between 2 people. everything is transitory you see. even love. its extremely tragic.

[via] [via]

'steadier footing'
by death cab for cutie



it's gotten late and now i want to be alone
all of our friends were here, they all have gone home
and here i sit on the front porch
watching the drunks stumble forth into the night
"you gave me a heart attack, i did not see you there.
i thought you had disappeared so early away from here."
and this is the chance i never got to make a move
but we just talk about the people we've met in the last five years
and will we remember them in ten more?
i let you bum a smoke, you quit this winter past
i've tried twice before, but like this, it just will not last

da-da-dum da-da-dum da-da-dun-dum

—



last night sonia and i came to a fairly reasonable conclusion that we could potentially listen to 'steadier footing' repeatedly for a really long time and not once get sick of it. 11 lines of pure brilliance. a few chords. one message. an entire spectrum of emotions that are terrible, nostalgic, hopeful, overwhelming, beautiful, etc. via your own discretion or 'status of being'.

the impetus of life is not love—it is understanding the basic fundamentals of love. what you love is who you are and who you are, is not unhappy. never compromise. it is okay and may i add , important, to have standards. never let anyone or anything break the wall of morals, values, principles and love that you have built around yourself with your bare hands. you are worth as much as you give yourself.

sonia is immensely sensible and sure and intelligent, sometimes i feel inadequately feeble in character in comparison. i hope you know how significant your existence is in my life. i am grateful for your greater perspectives, for keeping me grounded, for telling the truth, for having faith in me, for investing time and care and love into our friendship. one day you will change people's lives by listening and talking to them. like you have already done for some of us. for me. 'you, me, and five bucks'. always.

she's taught me, and now i live by, three words: 'don't not know'
simple—yet relevant to all reveries and resolute.

i don't feel alright
in spite of these comforting sounds you make
i don't feel alright
because you make promises that you break

into your house
why don't we share
our solitude?

nothing is pure
anymore
but solitude

it's hard to make sense
feels as if i'm sensing you through a lens
if someone else comes
i'll just sit here listening to the drums

previously
i never called
it solitude

and probably you know
all the dirty shows i've put on
blunted and exhausted like anyone
honestly i tried to avoid it
honestly

back when we were kids
we would always know when to stop
and now all the good kids are messing up
nobody has gained or accomplished anything

here i am typing aimlessly into this box when instead i should really be doing my research but i find it extremely motivating to write out my thoughts all the time. it is also very therapeutic. this weekend takes the form of the current weather, with prospects of sunshine and happiness with the looming grey cloud at every corner. i've always loved weddings and i'm terribly excited for this one in particular. there is nothing like the warm fuzzy feeling of witnessing a union between two individuals (and in turn makes you feel like the loneliest person in the world). but i'm okay. we're all okay. it is december and vampire weekend suggests we drink horchata and look psychotic in our balaclavas. maybe i will. maybe i will also stop listening to azure ray's november because it is possibly the most beautifully depressing song. ok off to meet my sonia darling so i'll end this with a quote i find really meaningful and adore endlessly.


"When you’re a teenager and in your early twenties it seems desperately eternal and excruciatingly painful. Whereas as you grow older
you realise that most things are excruciatingly painful and that is the human condition. Most of us continue to survive because we’re
convinced that somewhere along the line, with grit and determination and perseverance, we will end up in some magical union with some-
body. It’s a fallacy, of course, but it’s a form of religion. You have to believe. There is a light that never goes out and it’s called hope."

—Morrissey, "I've always felt like an exile" by Andrew Billen in The Times (30th May 2006)

oh you, pious and profane
put away your praise and blame
said, "a glass can only spill what it contains"
to the perpetually plain, the incurably inane
a glass can only spill what it contains

#mewithoutYou

banal, adj., and bane, n.
i am interested in the connection between these two words,
and how one denotes the series of ordinary spirit-deaths that
occur during a day, while the other is the full ruination, the
core of the calamity.

                  i think we endured the banal—

                  "so how's your chicken?"

                  "i'm so tired"

                  "lord, it's cold"

                  "where were you?"

                  "where do you want to go?"

                  "have you been waiting long?"

                   — as a way of skirting around the bane.





non sequitur, n.
this is what it sounds like when doves cry.

ubiquitous, adj.
when it's going well, the fact of it is everywhere. it's there in
the song that shuffles into your ears. it's there in the book
you're reading. it's there on the shelves of the store as you
reach for a towel and forget about the towel. it's there as
you open the door. as you stare off on the subway, it's what
you're looking at. you wear it on the inside of your hat. it
lines your pockets. it's the temperature.
     the hitch, of course, is that when it's going badly, it's in
all the same places.

fast, n. and adj.
starvation and speed. noun and adjective. this is where i get
caught. a fast is the opposite of desire. it is the negation of
desire. it is what i feel after we fight.
     the speed does us in. we act rashly, we say too much, we
don't let all the synapses connect before we do the thing we
shouldn't do.
     you make it a production. slam doors. knock things over.
scream. but i just leave. even if i'm still standing there, i
leave. i am refusing you. i am denying you. i am an
adjective that is quickly turning into a noun.

"How does one talk about love? Do we even have the right words to describe something that can be both utterly mundane and completely transcendent,
pulling us out of our everyday lives and making us feel a part of something greater than ourselves? Taking a unique approach to this problem, the nameless
narrator of David Levinthan's The Lover's Dictionary has constructed the story of his relationship as a dictionary. Through these short entries, he provides
an intimate window into the great events and quotidian trifles of being within a couple, giving us an endelible and deeply moving portrait of love in our time."

just finished this wonderful book which belongs to cheyenne. having completed it within a single day, i was deeply impressed with its subtle method of
ricocheting a great deal of emotions back and forth with each slice of the story. i thoroughly recommend this read. levinthan is also the man behind 'boy meets
boy' and 'nick and norah's infinite playlist', of which the latter i quite enjoyed.