Friday, August 28, 2009
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Crowquill
Nothing's so lucid as the promise of dreams, but these pills we found just make me sleep.
The promise of dreaming is a quite an alluring one, however, this man can only sleep. He can't dream and he wishes he could.
There's nothing quite so pure as the written word my dear, so lets have ourselves a little poem.
Written word has finality and authority. This line is pretty self explanitory anyway.
Until the will to speak loses urgency.
He's writing to put his thoughts on paper and doesn't think he'll write until after he's got all them out.
Our animal indecency in print is so blase.
When written down, who we are isn't so bad.
Its about the bell tower, at the golden hour.
He's looking at the high point of the town, at mid day
Angel of the spires climbs here steel cage staircase spine, angle of desire.
It's a beautiful building. There's again this imagery of heights and jetting off into the sky.
Ascend the wrought iron, one by one, wrung by wrung.
He climbs up and up.
Is it the rising roof line that makes me feel so swallowed whole,
He's completely committed to killin himself. He's just engrossed with the action right now.
or the way my body barely pricks the sky,
He's feeling small
the same as a century's worth of virgin's blood that's passed through my longing veins,
? Maybe he's saying that this need is pure and wholesole. This is unclear
scheming to convince my aching mind that pleasure's got nothing on the miracle of need.
He's trying to convince himself that killing himself is the only right answer, and that staying alive is pleasurable but not what he needs to do
Nothing's so purile as meter and rhyme when you can't see the ground from that ledge and this perch is so far, far from the nest.
Things like literature and music are so inconsequential when death is upon you.
Gravity doesn't grant me the privilege of failure my bough never breaks
If he jumps, there's no turning back. His bough (a large tree branch) may be referring to his large moral convictions.
I don't stumble into anything
He is surefootted in his life and has a plan
so I climb and I carve my initials in the bark with that feather I found but its all so contrived.
He's signing his suicide note. The bark is an Synecdoche (when one uses a part to represent the whole) for paper. He doesn't like this whole concept of the note though.
My genes didn't bless me with the foresight of a sage but I know how this will end, in apologies and ink on the page.
He's no wise man but he knows where this is headed.
A slowly constructed crow quilled confession of my spirit to all of you,
His suicide note
black waterproof ink scars the board, so hot-pressed, pristine and pure.
Vivid imagery of this note.
A slowly constructed manifestation of "to tremble",
How he carefully contructed his argument of why he's ending it.
as base as a bridge in a song and less like the poem that I promised you.
He's saying his note is much more lyrical than a poem, like it has intrinsic beauty in it much more so than written word
Nothing's so lurid as haiku-detat on sidewalks in white outlined chalk,
This is a juxtaposition of the first set of lines. Notice how lurid is very close to lucid. This line means something like "nothing is so horrifying as the outline of the jumper"
all I've got is this ink smeared lines.
All that's real to him is this note.
With our voices in harmony, the offering, of a crow quilled threnody.
This suicide note is his own eulogy.
This song is pretty obviously about suicide. The perverse theme of heights and notes in this song make it pretty clear that this man is about to take his own life. However, the overlying theme here seems to be that his death was inevitable. He planned this whole thing out and he needed to do it. He almost has a notion that this suicide was noble and tragic. His note was a thing of beauty and purity. So, he jumps.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
New CDs!
I got some CDs sunday. Here they are.
Since Circle Takes the Square is the best screamo CD ever, I don't need to get any other ones.
I also bought some CDs from Ameobia.
Since Circle Takes the Square is the best screamo CD ever, I don't need to get any other ones.
I also bought some CDs from Ameobia.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Simply Because This Was Just So Good.
this was too good not to take. http://www.amazon.com/Roots-Undo-Circle-Takes-Square/dp/B0000A4G83
Guess what guys?
I'm pretty sure this is a concept album, though I may have just listened to it a bit too much and over-analyzed everything. But it makes sense! Take my metaphorical hand: I'm going to walk you through this.
Intro: A song about the birth of a thought in the head of a man.
Same Shade as Concrete: Our man begins to question Religion and the validity of god. in this process, a new idea is sparked...
Crowquill: Man (let's just call him Jerry for the lovely sake of reference) decides that he will kill himself. He will end his own life to find out if god exists. He writes a note (Or a crow-quilled threnody) and plans for his departure.
In The Nervous Light: Jerry goes down a path of recollection before his death. He silences himself, closes his eyes, takes a breath and jumps out the window. But our friend Jerry didn't think the whole thing through. He regrets his decision on the way down, but it's too late.
Interview at the Ruins: Jerry is no more. The living public is temporarily alive with excitement over the recent suicide, since it gives them something to talk about. Jerry is buried.
Non-Objective Portrait of Karma: The entire opening is to signify ascension. Jerry was successful, and he is indeed rising to heaven above. But when he arrives, he doesn't like what he sees. You see, heaven isn't all its cracked up to be. It is full of terrible things, angels who feast upon your energy because God is corrupt, and that's how he runs the place.
Kill the Switch: Longest song on the album for a reason. This song is about the murder of God. Jerry forms a mutiny. Everyone in heaven takes down the corruption that is God to try and acheive a true utopia, a perfect society. But they forget that perfection cannot really exist, since the definition of something so abstract varies. Heaven had always needed a leader. So they appointed our friend Jerry to take the place of God.
A Crater to Cough In: Notice the similarities between this track and the first? Of course you do. Thats because its a form of rebirth. Jerry is God. But over time, he becomes just as corrupt with power. It becomes cyclical. The angels stage a mutiny against Jerry at the end, and he is, in turn, killed again in the search for perfection. As jerry is dying for the second time, he is again full of regret. But there is nothing he can do but accept what he had become and fade into memory.
DAMN that was a lot of typing. Okay. So thats my theory. Maybe i'm crazy, maybe not. But lyrically, this album exceeds anything. And Musically....it's so difficult to capture the beauty and violence this album portrays. There are only three people in this band. TALENT. This is definately the greatest, most powerful album i have ever heard. EVER. it is impossible to describe, but you will NEVER forget it. Buy it. Do it. Now.
Guess what guys?
I'm pretty sure this is a concept album, though I may have just listened to it a bit too much and over-analyzed everything. But it makes sense! Take my metaphorical hand: I'm going to walk you through this.
Intro: A song about the birth of a thought in the head of a man.
Same Shade as Concrete: Our man begins to question Religion and the validity of god. in this process, a new idea is sparked...
Crowquill: Man (let's just call him Jerry for the lovely sake of reference) decides that he will kill himself. He will end his own life to find out if god exists. He writes a note (Or a crow-quilled threnody) and plans for his departure.
In The Nervous Light: Jerry goes down a path of recollection before his death. He silences himself, closes his eyes, takes a breath and jumps out the window. But our friend Jerry didn't think the whole thing through. He regrets his decision on the way down, but it's too late.
Interview at the Ruins: Jerry is no more. The living public is temporarily alive with excitement over the recent suicide, since it gives them something to talk about. Jerry is buried.
Non-Objective Portrait of Karma: The entire opening is to signify ascension. Jerry was successful, and he is indeed rising to heaven above. But when he arrives, he doesn't like what he sees. You see, heaven isn't all its cracked up to be. It is full of terrible things, angels who feast upon your energy because God is corrupt, and that's how he runs the place.
Kill the Switch: Longest song on the album for a reason. This song is about the murder of God. Jerry forms a mutiny. Everyone in heaven takes down the corruption that is God to try and acheive a true utopia, a perfect society. But they forget that perfection cannot really exist, since the definition of something so abstract varies. Heaven had always needed a leader. So they appointed our friend Jerry to take the place of God.
A Crater to Cough In: Notice the similarities between this track and the first? Of course you do. Thats because its a form of rebirth. Jerry is God. But over time, he becomes just as corrupt with power. It becomes cyclical. The angels stage a mutiny against Jerry at the end, and he is, in turn, killed again in the search for perfection. As jerry is dying for the second time, he is again full of regret. But there is nothing he can do but accept what he had become and fade into memory.
DAMN that was a lot of typing. Okay. So thats my theory. Maybe i'm crazy, maybe not. But lyrically, this album exceeds anything. And Musically....it's so difficult to capture the beauty and violence this album portrays. There are only three people in this band. TALENT. This is definately the greatest, most powerful album i have ever heard. EVER. it is impossible to describe, but you will NEVER forget it. Buy it. Do it. Now.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Same Shade as Concrete
Rejoice, rejoice a noble birth, a prince is born.
Behold the birth of violence, beasts of fang and feather cry for our concrete rapture,
and if we beg to be put down, unto us the most inspired storm.
A princess ravaged by her prince behold; the birth of sex and distance, two frail corpses both were they, his eyes were the first to stray... every tree held fast the earth to sky.
Concrete replaces every branch and twig as they were frayed upon the birth of ambition. The heavens filled our gilded vessel with poison tears, before we drink, I propose a toast, a final prayer.
Here's to the watchers in the wood, here's to the last days, unto us a most inspired song.
Shaper, stop the music.
Halt the harp strings whose chords confuse our histories with textures.
With the disheartened chorus of a hymnal whose choir is the conviction of the starving, artless, tempted by the feast of proof that this body of work has worth.
Uncertain as the fingering of a chord torn prematurely from a piano's womb.
As we fill our precious lungs with concrete, that faithful shade, a shaper's song is stopped short- a dying breath a singing shore.
Then the only movement and the last remains of grace:
Pollen falling off the simple hinge joint leg upon the final breath of a dragonfly.
A cardinal, lost but headstrong in mid flight cries for our concrete rapture, wade...
in the water, wade. Let the flood swell, thank the storm for her tears.
The faithful say its beautiful, its god's will
but the fool knows what the prophets have seen, no salvation's impending.
The faithful say its beautiful, its god's will let the flood swell and the bodies that break we'll just float down the river. Stay tame, soft river, while we weigh our faith, stay sweet, run softly, sweet river, the fool who wades in doubt will float like concrete.
Come and fill your lungs. Come and fill your lungs.
There's so much hope buried underneath tragedy, its the same shade as concrete.
The faithful say its beautiful, its god's will, let the flood swell
on the loudspeaker sermons and a parish descending.
There's so much hope buried underneath tragedy, its the same shade as concrete.
Let the flood swell.
Let's take this step by step. I am keeping in mind that Drew said that this CD is about self-discovery and realization.
Rejoice, rejoice a noble birth, a prince is born
This is the birth of our subject. This shares similarities with Jesus, whether intentional or not.
Behold the birth of violence, beasts of fang and feather cry for our concrete rapture,
This prince is going to be violent and nature knows it. It cries for the end, the unyielding rapture.
and if we beg to be put down, unto us the most inspired storm.
If we want to die, we will be given an enlightening action?
A princess ravaged by her prince behold; the birth of sex and distance, two frail corpses both were they, his eyes were the first to stray... every tree held fast the earth to sky.
The prince has raped purity, which the princess is a symbol of. Born was evil and discomfort. They were both frail and decrepit. They were not literally dead though, just emotionally. He was the first the look off the beaten path of righteousness. It appeared as though the trees held the earth to the sky. This may be nature anchoring us to reality and being in tough with ourselves.
Concrete replaces every branch and twig as they were frayed upon the birth of ambition.
Industry and civilization are replacing nature.
The heavens filled our gilded vessel with poison tears, before we drink, I propose a toast, a final prayer.
Nature is sad about this destruction and is fighting back. The destroyer, whether that be humans or this prince, are aware that nature will win, yet doesn't turn back. It just accepts it's fate.
Here's to the watchers in the wood, here's to the last days, unto us a most inspired song.
This is the prayer that is said. Giving thanks to the people of the forest and to the of it. He is also declaring the prayer a most inspired one.
Shaper, stop the music.
Halt the harp strings whose chords confuse our histories with textures.
Shaper could be either God or the destroyer. We are begging for the destruction to stop.
The line confuse our histories with textures is a odd one. Maybe it's saying the music is confusing emotions with facts.
With the disheartened chorus of a hymnal whose choir is the conviction of the starving, artless, tempted by the feast of proof that this body of work has worth.
This goes with the music. The choir is a symbol for desperate people who are supporting this naive point of view. They look at a body of work and think that it must be correct. These are the people supporting the destruction of nature for "the greater good"
Uncertain as the fingering of a chord torn prematurely from a piano's womb.
Unsure like an unfinished musical note.
As we fill our precious lungs with concrete, that faithful shade, a shaper's song is stopped short- a dying breath a singing shore.
We kill ourselves slowly, surely. We praise and sing songs of hope until we can sing no more.
Then the only movement and the last remains of grace:
Pollen falling off the simple hinge joint leg upon the final breath of a dragonfly.
The earth is cleansed; desolate. A wasteland is what remains.
A cardinal, lost but headstrong in mid flight cries for our concrete rapture,
Nature again see the coming doom.
wade...
in the water, wade. Let the flood swell, thank the storm for her tears.
Nature is cleaning itself. Rain is the most destructive and cleansing thing.
The faithful say its beautiful, its god's will
but the fool knows what the prophets have seen, no salvation's impending.
A section are saying it will be beautiful but the foolish ones are saying this is the end. But who is the real fool?
The faithful say its beautiful, its god's will let the flood swell and the bodies that break we'll just float down the river.
repetition for emphasis. all the people who can't handle this cleansing, we will ship down the river.
Stay tame, soft river, while we weigh our faith, stay sweet, run softly, sweet river, the fool who wades in doubt will float like concrete.
We want nature to stay still and tame while we decide what we want. The one who doubts will surely perish. This is an odd turn in direction. The one who is skeptical will die while the fateful will survive on a calm river? Maybe this is sarcasm
Come and fill your lungs. Come and fill your lungs.
Join the believers.
There's so much hope buried underneath tragedy, its the same shade as concrete.
There is no right or wrong. Tragedy is not black and white, but rather a shade of gray.
I think this song is about nature versus man. Some of us want to industrialize the world and make it more for us. But others want to stay that way. We are caught in a divide and a decision. Neither way is clearly defined and we have to choose a side. We can either be the fool and drown or the smart one and suffocate. Concrete is used interestingly here, because at first it's used in a negative descriptive way. Then it's used as a good thing. Either way, this song is an interesting expose in the way we make decisions and the duality of the real world.
Behold the birth of violence, beasts of fang and feather cry for our concrete rapture,
and if we beg to be put down, unto us the most inspired storm.
A princess ravaged by her prince behold; the birth of sex and distance, two frail corpses both were they, his eyes were the first to stray... every tree held fast the earth to sky.
Concrete replaces every branch and twig as they were frayed upon the birth of ambition. The heavens filled our gilded vessel with poison tears, before we drink, I propose a toast, a final prayer.
Here's to the watchers in the wood, here's to the last days, unto us a most inspired song.
Shaper, stop the music.
Halt the harp strings whose chords confuse our histories with textures.
With the disheartened chorus of a hymnal whose choir is the conviction of the starving, artless, tempted by the feast of proof that this body of work has worth.
Uncertain as the fingering of a chord torn prematurely from a piano's womb.
As we fill our precious lungs with concrete, that faithful shade, a shaper's song is stopped short- a dying breath a singing shore.
Then the only movement and the last remains of grace:
Pollen falling off the simple hinge joint leg upon the final breath of a dragonfly.
A cardinal, lost but headstrong in mid flight cries for our concrete rapture, wade...
in the water, wade. Let the flood swell, thank the storm for her tears.
The faithful say its beautiful, its god's will
but the fool knows what the prophets have seen, no salvation's impending.
The faithful say its beautiful, its god's will let the flood swell and the bodies that break we'll just float down the river. Stay tame, soft river, while we weigh our faith, stay sweet, run softly, sweet river, the fool who wades in doubt will float like concrete.
Come and fill your lungs. Come and fill your lungs.
There's so much hope buried underneath tragedy, its the same shade as concrete.
The faithful say its beautiful, its god's will, let the flood swell
on the loudspeaker sermons and a parish descending.
There's so much hope buried underneath tragedy, its the same shade as concrete.
Let the flood swell.
Let's take this step by step. I am keeping in mind that Drew said that this CD is about self-discovery and realization.
Rejoice, rejoice a noble birth, a prince is born
This is the birth of our subject. This shares similarities with Jesus, whether intentional or not.
Behold the birth of violence, beasts of fang and feather cry for our concrete rapture,
This prince is going to be violent and nature knows it. It cries for the end, the unyielding rapture.
and if we beg to be put down, unto us the most inspired storm.
If we want to die, we will be given an enlightening action?
A princess ravaged by her prince behold; the birth of sex and distance, two frail corpses both were they, his eyes were the first to stray... every tree held fast the earth to sky.
The prince has raped purity, which the princess is a symbol of. Born was evil and discomfort. They were both frail and decrepit. They were not literally dead though, just emotionally. He was the first the look off the beaten path of righteousness. It appeared as though the trees held the earth to the sky. This may be nature anchoring us to reality and being in tough with ourselves.
Concrete replaces every branch and twig as they were frayed upon the birth of ambition.
Industry and civilization are replacing nature.
The heavens filled our gilded vessel with poison tears, before we drink, I propose a toast, a final prayer.
Nature is sad about this destruction and is fighting back. The destroyer, whether that be humans or this prince, are aware that nature will win, yet doesn't turn back. It just accepts it's fate.
Here's to the watchers in the wood, here's to the last days, unto us a most inspired song.
This is the prayer that is said. Giving thanks to the people of the forest and to the of it. He is also declaring the prayer a most inspired one.
Shaper, stop the music.
Halt the harp strings whose chords confuse our histories with textures.
Shaper could be either God or the destroyer. We are begging for the destruction to stop.
The line confuse our histories with textures is a odd one. Maybe it's saying the music is confusing emotions with facts.
With the disheartened chorus of a hymnal whose choir is the conviction of the starving, artless, tempted by the feast of proof that this body of work has worth.
This goes with the music. The choir is a symbol for desperate people who are supporting this naive point of view. They look at a body of work and think that it must be correct. These are the people supporting the destruction of nature for "the greater good"
Uncertain as the fingering of a chord torn prematurely from a piano's womb.
Unsure like an unfinished musical note.
As we fill our precious lungs with concrete, that faithful shade, a shaper's song is stopped short- a dying breath a singing shore.
We kill ourselves slowly, surely. We praise and sing songs of hope until we can sing no more.
Then the only movement and the last remains of grace:
Pollen falling off the simple hinge joint leg upon the final breath of a dragonfly.
The earth is cleansed; desolate. A wasteland is what remains.
A cardinal, lost but headstrong in mid flight cries for our concrete rapture,
Nature again see the coming doom.
wade...
in the water, wade. Let the flood swell, thank the storm for her tears.
Nature is cleaning itself. Rain is the most destructive and cleansing thing.
The faithful say its beautiful, its god's will
but the fool knows what the prophets have seen, no salvation's impending.
A section are saying it will be beautiful but the foolish ones are saying this is the end. But who is the real fool?
The faithful say its beautiful, its god's will let the flood swell and the bodies that break we'll just float down the river.
repetition for emphasis. all the people who can't handle this cleansing, we will ship down the river.
Stay tame, soft river, while we weigh our faith, stay sweet, run softly, sweet river, the fool who wades in doubt will float like concrete.
We want nature to stay still and tame while we decide what we want. The one who doubts will surely perish. This is an odd turn in direction. The one who is skeptical will die while the fateful will survive on a calm river? Maybe this is sarcasm
Come and fill your lungs. Come and fill your lungs.
Join the believers.
There's so much hope buried underneath tragedy, its the same shade as concrete.
There is no right or wrong. Tragedy is not black and white, but rather a shade of gray.
I think this song is about nature versus man. Some of us want to industrialize the world and make it more for us. But others want to stay that way. We are caught in a divide and a decision. Neither way is clearly defined and we have to choose a side. We can either be the fool and drown or the smart one and suffocate. Concrete is used interestingly here, because at first it's used in a negative descriptive way. Then it's used as a good thing. Either way, this song is an interesting expose in the way we make decisions and the duality of the real world.
As The Roots Undo
So, this CD, I am rapidly discovering is one of the greatest pieces of music I've listened to. It has emotion and passion practically escaping through every pore of this body of sound. It's vocals are this tortuous scraping, haunting you, bestowing you with a sense of the anguish that this man lives with. The haunting echos of instrumentals in between punishing vocal sections throw the listener into despair and reflection.
Needless to say, it's amazing. One of the parts I feel I am missing out with this CD with the lyrics. They are intricate and well woven tapestry of words. So, I've decided to better understand these lyrics, I'm going to analyze every song on here. I'm going to go song by song, starting with Same Shade as Concrete.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Life According to Priscilla Ahn
Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions. Pass it on to at least 15 people and include me. You can't use the band I used. Try not to repeat a song title. It's a lot harder than you think! Repost as "my life according to (band/artist name)"
Pick your Artist: Priscilla Ahn
Describe yourself:
Lost
How do you feel:
Opportunity To Cry
Describe where you currently live:
Masters in China
If you could go anywhere, where would you go:
In A Tree
Describe the opposite sex:
Are We Different?
Your favorite form of transportation:
Red Cape
Your best friend is:
Astronaut
What's the weather like:
Rain
Favorite time of day:
A Good Day (Morning Song)
If your life were a TV show, what would it be called:
I Don't Think So
What is life to you:
Dream
Your fear:
Opportunity To Cry
What is the best advice you have to give:
Leave The Light On
Thought for the Day:
Are We Different?
How I would like to die:
Astronaut
My soul's present condition:
Lost
My motto:
Leave The Light On
Priscilla Ahn Concert.
Priscilla Ahn was very good. I'm not sure how I feel about the thing as a whole however. Shit was awkward, I don't really want to talk about it. Here's a picture.
She succeeded at being very very adorable.
She succeeded at being very very adorable.
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