[image via coastalcities]
coastal cities [fb] are a bit of two door cinema club, and a bit of foals. five indie dudes out of the u.k. who are delivering some strong jangly, post-punk sounds. featured is their new track ‘entropic’, which is one of those tunes that gives you such a good feeling when you listen to it. this tune is soaring, summery, and worth your time.
if you lay awake at night,
your dreams are holding you back.
[image via björk]
listening to björk is akin to having a sexual relationship with nature. you don’t just want to hold hands, you want to get involved. and so, these new puritans have threaded björk’s ‘mutual core’ with vocals of a solomon islands song, pushing the vines of nature upwards until the sky is pulled closer. those seasonal shifts and tectonic plates in your chest have never been this seductive. it’s a must-listen.
as fast as your fingernail grows,
the atlantic ridge drifts,
to counteract distance.
june and july are tokyo, basel, marrakech, copenhagen, berlin, como, and paris. oh, sweet travel, i will have to flunk the first semester for you. (but willingly)
unreal. new gods [fb] first single ‘on your side’ is a pretty tight piece of songwriting. there are so many lines that resonate strongly, evoking those cut-throat moments of friendship where the blade falls and something is cut away forever. the video captures that: the ephemeral flickering eyes, meeting lips, and rolling your face skywards to the sun, all replayed in quick rotation and all for pertinence. what a sound!
![[image via alexbip]
cloudy days are for dreaming. sunny days are for feeling. i spent my day in an empty cinema, one german film, one french film, some over-salted popcorn in between. outside, the rain spat hard at the bitumen, and the wind numbed the skin beneath clothes. somewhere in the dimmed lights, story-telling, and subtitles, wild fiction blurred with reality. and like a summer day, i was taken away. the clouds parted and the sun returned, and ever-so-still i laid beneath it. i could feel it run through my body again. escapism, summer, and love. berlin.](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mbs4xxTG7Q1qjnyguo1_400.jpg)
[image via alexbip]
cloudy days are for dreaming. sunny days are for feeling. i spent my day in an empty cinema, one german film, one french film, some over-salted popcorn in between. outside, the rain spat hard at the bitumen, and the wind numbed the skin beneath clothes. somewhere in the dimmed lights, story-telling, and subtitles, wild fiction blurred with reality. and like a summer day, i was taken away. the clouds parted and the sun returned, and ever-so-still i laid beneath it. i could feel it run through my body again. escapism, summer, and love. berlin.
video is good. citizens! [fb] magnificent ‘true romance’ has now been graced with a new video, and it’s unreal. if you have, or have ever had, that one person who grabbed your heart with such vigour that the violence and chaos and noise and movement all around you begins to fall deep into chasms, and that all that exists is you and this person. if you know what that’s like, you will know how i understand this video.
oh, my love.
what are we doing here?
this little heart,
racing through the gates.
i like people who notice the smallest of things. i like when they describe how you stroke back your hair with your left hand when you’re nervous, or how the silhouette of windswept branches fall on the blinds, or how they notice the silence. no one ever notices the silence. i like people who enjoy saying nothing, who sit in the back-row of the cinema, or at the edge of a conversation, not because they have nothing to say but because they observe. they observe everything.
i like those people. they are the only people who interest me. they are the ones who never say a commonplace thing or yawn in your presence, who will run away from you in a car-park in the expectation that you will chase them. and you will chase them, because nothing seems more appropriate. they are the ones who burn to live, and burn for desire. they burn like a million candles in the night.
i like the way long skirts flick into the sides of a woman’s legs when she walks. i like how it reminds me of a cedric klapisch film, the one where the beauty walks down the street of ideal proportions. i like when someone sings to every song i have on repeat, even when they don’t really know the words. i like it when someone speaks in such magnitude that their voice trembles under the weight. i like it because it means so much to them. the smallest things, they always mean so much.
[image via ptcampbell]
indie rock, janky pop. currently, twerps’ [fb] ‘dreamin’ is my number one song. spring is kicking in, and the sun is beaming. you start to collect those tunes for summer. you know, for the days at the beach where you aim to forget mostly everything. sometimes, there’s that one track that defines it all. this may be it.
i just wanna run while i can,
i wanna push you outta my way.
i just wanna lay here with you,
all the things you make me feel.
and, that was august. a half-witted attempt at channeling the drunk genius of charles bukowski. it worked at times, mostly when the vodka stayed down and the people who usually stare for so long didn’t seem to judge anymore. but, nothing really matters when you don’t know what day it is. the words stuck, the sex was good and the treachery fell away.
bukowski wrote a couple of lines once, that ‘there isn’t a piece of ass in this world over $50 (in 1977)’. he was so under the table when he wrote that. it doesn’t even matter. ‘if you have the ability to love, love yourself first’. those lines, written everywhere in my life. the beers were consumed until the house was dry. and all this, for the condemnation, and for the contempt. the rails were invisible.
but, love is like a revolution. you choose a destiny, the violence escalates, people are won, and people are lost. you do it because you’re fighting for an idea. you do it because you’re fighting to win someone’s heart. you fight, to keep it alive. and either by the gun, the bottle, your word or your love, we’re all revolutionaries. just hit it hard.
[image via bonchatbonrat]
i would like to write some pretty things about how wonderful bon chat, bon rat’s [fb] ‘blackbird’ is, but sometimes you need to take the back-seat, to let the breeze catch your hair, and for the sun to fall golden on your face.
carried on the wind,
from one void into the next.
indifferent sun still rises,
it doesn’t bring him warmth.
there’s nothing in this forest,
nothing without her song.
if you suffer of coffee and cigarettes, sex and love addiction, you should see a french movie every day. if you like french movies, you should have two girlfriends. when i was in paris, i kissed french girls and ran away. that’s what i did in paris. i was an unknown man in a known land, and we were two unknown lovers like all the others. we were young, we were free, and we were dancing. you were there in your palace, waiting for your lover, wishing for a sunset kiss.
i fell in love, you fell in love, we fell in hate, that’s our fate. the music is the only thing that will remain after we’ve gone. you remember her with music, forget her with wine. you know as time goes by, you are close but you are not together. your mind is a mess, and your heart loves less. because back in the days when roads kept us together, i was romantic, not pragmatic. the love died, and you died. french cinema is the only thing that keeps me alive.
undeniably, the australian summer is pulling us closer, the music starts to hope and the trees start to glow. this is gung ho [fb], the brisbane surf-rock-indie duo whose track ‘side by side’, now has its debut video. mates, you have captured the feelings that get caught in the transitions of seasons. another fantastic australian act signed under future classic [fb].
‘you came here from far away, the way i wanted is if only you could stay.’ heavy days.
i write this as best as i can. when the words cease and when the mind is numb, i fold a tear-drenched tissue as neat as possible, one fold into another. nothing feels more appropriate than the disenchantment of monotony that it brings.
and so, the dirt collected in the contours and the veins of naked trees and fallen leaves. as the minutes ran into the evening, the swarming shadows reclaimed sunlit surfaces. i could feel how spring started to claw back the inches of darkness. for now, at least, winter had frozen over me. it was that final glimpse through the blinds where the girl you love carries away her memories. all that remained was the deafening emptiness. nothing ever prepares you for the reality of that heartbreak. nothing will ever heal you completely from the dreams that have died.
the tears that dripped onto my shirtless body after we hugged, they dried and crystalised. your head fit so well above my shoulder. it really belonged.
i like the way your woodfire smoke scented air permeated the swallowing coldness. i like how your empty streets and decaying facades were illuminated in the moonlight. mostly, i liked the expanse. you were my friday night. the plastic bag you swept up in the breeze floated unchallenged in the sky. and like the vapour that pushed away from my lips in a wafting swirl of cigarette smoke, you were like the transition of seasons, drifting between ebbing bodies.
those bodies began to weave, and the walls of flaking brickwork caught the warmth. cushions with streaks of golden linen covered the blotches of a red wine-stained sofa. and sung from the corner of the room, bloodless melodies of worn classics allayed moments of muteness. it almost felt like bodies were loosely knotted with strands of jute twine. at times we sprawl, at others we collide. after the live music died down, some cut themselves free.
when you played metronomy at sometime before midnight, i danced alone. everyone who looks my way thinks i’m a fool. i think i am free. i like how your glasses of amber liquid were frosted at the sides. i like how the stray droplets collected strength and rolled downwards until they fell and landed on stonewashed jeans. i like the plastic bag that still rides the zephyrs before it finds a place to rest. you made it feel as though the days are ending and beginning at the same time, that the jute twine that drags along the ground will soon be tied to something new.
