Here I was thinking that I hadn’t had a 5-star read in so long, and bam…twoin a row! I was expecting to enjoy The Stardust Grail because I loved The Deep Sky, Yume Kitasei’s debut. To my delight, it turned in a much more space opera direction, but not only that—it had one of the most heartwarming sci-fi universes that I’ve had the privilege of experiencing!
Maya Hoshimoto is a grad student, pouring her life into her studies on an Earth university far from her colony home. But what her university doesn’t know is that her extensive background in alien cultures comes from a history of art theft, stealing alien artifacts and returning them to their rightful owners. When a friend from her past offers her one last job, Maya is ready to refuse—until she learns that the artifact in question could mean that her friend’s species could be brought back from the brink of extinction. Plunged back into her old life, Maya now faces her hardest job yet—putting an entire alien species on the line.
TW/CW (from Yume Kitasei): themes of colonialism/imperialism, genocide, chronic illness (migraines), torture, suicidal ideation (brief), violence/gore, torture/confinement, war themes, pandemic
I loved The Deep Sky, but it was more literary than my usual tastes in sci-fi. I went into The Stardust Grail expecting more of the same, knowing I’d enjoy it, but I did not anticipate it being the perfect book for my constant space opera hankering! Heartwarming friendships, intergalactic hijinks, and excellent creature design—I’m ecstatic to report that The Stardust Grail has it all!
You all knew I was going to go after the creature design first. THE CREATURE DESIGN!! THIS IS THE ABSOLUTE CREAM OF THE CROP HERE!! My only issue is that we didn’t get to see all of the alien species that Kitasei set up, but to be fair, with a story jam-packed with rival parties and factions, it would’ve been a chore to have to incorporate every single one of them. (Maybe what we need is a companion novel in this universe? WE NEED TO MAKE IT HAPPEN!) Back to my point—even in sci-fi, it’s a difficult task to make aliens feel truly alien, not just in looks, but in culture, lifespans, and general quirks. The Frenro, and Auncle in particular, felt bizarre in the best possible way. I love a good cephalopod-like creature, but Kitasei did an excellent job of portraying not just xer mannerisms and what made xem unique as a species, but having those in contact with Maya’s more human sensibilities—there’s a ton of cultural confusion, even though they’ve been friends for at least a decade, but both Kitasei and the characters themselves handle it with a humorous grace. I also loved the design of the Belzoar—again, arachnid-like aliens are also tons of fun, but like the Frenro, they had enough distinguishing qualities to separate them from just being giant spiders.
I could go on and on about how much I adored these characters! Even if I didn’t have a soft spot for alien characters in the first place (being marginalized and generally an outcast will do that), Auncle would be my favorite by far—xe was just so delightful in their joyous dialogue and relentless optimism, but xer deep history of tragedy, both personal and in the context of xer species, was handled with all of the respect that it deserved—xe was joyous in spite of it all, because joy is all you’ve got in some cases. (AMEN!!) Maya was a fantastic protagonist—like Auncle, Kitasei did an excellent job of giving the reader the full breadth of her motivations and past that led her to the place where she is now. Her devotion to a fair galaxy and to help the Frenro made for a beautiful quest, and her feeling of outsiderness amongst both humans and aliens resonated deeply with me. (Given the themes of mixed-race identity in The Deep Sky, I wouldn’t be surprised if that was another analog. YES!!!) Wil and Medix were charming and lovable as side characters, and all of the colorful denizens of the galaxy were equally so—not a single character felt flat or out of place.
In her personal review of the novel on Goodreads, Yume Kitasei cites Star Wars—A New Hope in particular—as her primary inspiration for writing The Stardust Grail and much of her other science fiction. The Deep Sky was much more on the literary side of sci-fi, and while I loved it, I’m hoping that Kitasei keeps in this direction for her next few books. (I’ll read anything she writes at this point, but my statement still stands.) As a fellow space opera girlie and an avid Star Wars fan, the passion of both Kitasei’s personal life and her love for those movies shines through in The Stardust Grail. Kitasei took all of the right lessons from George Lucas and company. Not only do we have a vibrant galaxy full of characters who are just as vibrant, this novel hits the right balance of emotional weight and campy, truly fun action. Speaking of George Lucas…another obvious inspiration in the latter third of the novel was the Indiana Jones franchise, and those action scenes were the best kind of fun amidst an otherwise deeply grounded and emotional novel. Never at any point do the emotion and serious themes contradict the aforementioned action, nor the other way around—all of it is earned, and all of it feels like a worthy tribute both Star Wars and other such space opera works.
Speaking of said serious and emotional themes…as I said earlier, The Stardust Grail has such grace in the way that it handles the myriad of themes that it explores. From Maya’s lasting effects of an alien illness that linger into her life to her experience as an outsider, being raised on a colony isolated from Earth, every topic is treated with the weight it deserves. Imperialism and the ownership of art is the primary theme of the novel, and it’s unabashedly anti-colonial, which I adored. However, it didn’t just say “colonialism bad” and leave it at that—just as in the real world, nothing in The Stardust Grail is without nuance. With dozens of alien species and factions amongst said species, everything is gray, even in the case of their main mission. Would it have been fine if all there was to The Stardust Grail is “colonialism bad?” Sure, I agree. But the fact that Kitasei chose to explore all of the layers to the various conflicts and perspectives made it so much more worthwhile.
All in all, a deeply emotional and heartwarming tale of resistance, friendship across cultural barriers, and retaining joy in spite of it all. 5 stars!
The Stardust Grail is a standalone, but Yume Kitasei is also the author of The Deep Sky.
Today’s song:
That’s it for this week’s Book Review Tuesday! Have a wonderful rest of your day, and take care of yourselves!
Happy Sunday, bibliophiles! I hope this week has treated you well.
Don’t let the black color scheme full you—we’ve got a mostly joyful bunch, and if not joyful, at least upbeat. This week: what happened when I listened to Apple Music’s “Love” station on a whim, things that are wholly good and pure, and reflecting on the things that made middle school survivable.
The story of “After Hours” famously goes that Lou Reed wrote this song, but knew it was too pure and innocent for him to possibly sing, so he enlisted Mo Tucker, the Velvet Underground’s drummer, for the task. As much as I love Lou Reed, he did the world a great service by not singing this song—in his hands, there’s no doubt that it would’ve felt like some kind of melancholic “Perfect Day” prequel, but at least he was self-aware enough to realize it. And there’s nobody more fit to sing it than Tucker. Her voice is beautiful, but it’s the voice of someone who rarely sings, if at all, and sings softly when she does. But that’s exactly the kind of voice that “After Hours” calls for. It’s a bashful, rosy-cheeked song, the kind that shyly peers out from behind the curtain to watch the bustling city below. There’s an embarrassment to it, but not the kind that makes you wince—it’s a diary confession written as the last threads of light are fading from the sky, the last pure thoughts filtering out of your brain. It’s so simple, and yet that’s why it digs at such a unique place in my heart—it’s not quite universal, but it’s just the kind of special to nestle up against me like a drowsy cat. There’s practically no end to the influence that The Velvet Underground has had on rock music, but I feel like “After Hours” is overlooked in that aspect—without it, where would the glorious pantheon of wistful women and their acoustic guitars come from?
Bonus: because somewhere down the line we collectively recognized that this song is best performed by female drummers, here’s a performance by Meg White of the White Stripes:
All Born Screaming? Uh, yeah, I sure am. The squeal I let out at 7 A.M. when my mom shared this new single could probably be heard through my whole dorm. I’m just glad that my RA didn’t catch on. After a solid month of teasing, first with the ceremonial removal of the Daddy’s Home blonde wig, then with throwbacks to her performance of “Lithium” with the surviving members of Nirvana at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (to the people saying “oH, shE’s sO oFf-KeY” about this one: did you all just forget how Kurt Cobain sang, or what?) and her performance of “Krokodil” at Coachella in 2012, we finally have the St. Vincent rock album that we’ve always wanted. I’ve gone past the point of trying not to hype myself up for this one—somehow I feel like it’s not gonna be another MASSEDUCTION incident, because everything about this album— the aesthetic around it, and its collaborators (Dave Grohl on drums in this track, and Cate LeBon featuring on another)—feels like it’s going to rock. Annie Clark always seems to have a clever, cheeky album title up her sleeve, but All Born Screaming has to be one of the harder ones. And the album art…well, yeah. Let’s get the elephant out of the room—it’s great album art, but the timing was…not good, as it came just days after Aaron Bushnell self-immolated to call attention to the ongoing Palestinian genocide. (Rest in power. Chip in where you can.) But at the same time, there’s no way that Clark or her team could have predicted that kind of thing. I really don’t feel like she’s at fault here—it’s bad timing, sure, but none of us can be expected to foresee everything in the news.
Back to the song…I need to be stopped. Somebody needs to hold me back…or, at any rate, somebody should’ve held me back on the Thursday morning when “Broken Man” came out, because I listened to nothing but that song from approximately 7-11 A.M, and I had to go about three days before I could listen to it again. I’ve learned nothing. But now that I’ve ridden the initial high, I’m reveling in the new direction that St. Vincent has started to go towards with All Born Screaming. Most of the comparisons I’ve seen wind up somewhere in the neighborhood of Nine Inch Nails, P.J. Harvey, and Rage Against the Machine, and I can see all of those, especially with the former two—the industrial grind of Trent Reznor and the feral, growling vocals of P.J. Harvey are wound all over this track. Like the album art, it’s painted in the colors of ashes, still hot to the touch and rough between your fingertips. Clark has toed this line more often than not (see “Krokodil”), but we’ve gotten an album where she’s fully embraced her heavier side—one that she’s always had the capacity for, but somehow bottled up before throwing herself into All Born Screaming, the first album that she produced herself. It oscillates smoothly between hectic, metronome-ticking pop, uncomfortably sung from inside of a steel crate as she taunts the listener with her head peering out of the lid. It feels like a callback to the frenetic, pent-up energy of her self-titled record [slides Anthony Fantano glasses up the bridge of my nose], but with even more fury—every other lyric feels like a spit-laden taunt: “Who the hell do you think I am?/Like you’ve never seen a broken man?” With each verse that goes by, every word is spat with more intention, more vitriol, swerving between her silky, whisper-vocals to a full-on, sweat-drenched growl as the song closes. And this song’s breakdown is one of the most exciting of her songs in recent years; crashing in with Dave Grohl’s legendary drumming, you can’t describe this song with anything other than “fiery”: it’s a primal scream of a song, burning, biting fervor engulfed in flames. And I can’t help but get excited about the choreography in the music video—as flames dance across her neat, white button-up and slicked-back ponytail, her arms play a game of “the floor is lava” with her torso, jerkily twisting to avoid some point of contact. An eagle-eyed YouTube commenter compared it to her choreography for “Rattlesnake,” and…oh god, now I’m way too excited. Daddy’s Home is the best of her more recent work, if we’re going post-self-titled [slides glasses up even further] but…don’t do it. Don’t give me hope.
Hi. Gonna try and be calm about this one. As calm as I can be when I feel the raw, untamed power of my middle school Hellboy hyperfixation coursing through my veins. The deluxe edition of the Hellboy II soundtrack showing up on my Apple Music suggestions on an unsuspecting Sunday morning was certainly a kick in the pants that sent me hurtling back to 2017 at alarming speeds, and I have yet to reach terminal velocity.
I don’t know what prompted the release—last year would’ve been fine, given that Hellboy II turned 15 that July. Who knows. Just up and popped out of nowhere. But man, I am so glad that it did. Having this expanded edition just goes to show how many gaps were left out of the original soundtrack, even if many of them (including this song) are under a minute long. I’m convinced that there was some kind of rush in putting together the original soundtrack, since now we know that the random tidbits that didn’t seem to come from anywhere that were tacked onto the end of “Finale” were, in fact, two alternate versions of songs that were almost used in the troll market scene. Again: who knows how that happened. But now, the score feels as whole as ever—those short-and-sweet tidbits fill in the crucial gaps, the silly, almost jazzy flourishes to plump up some moments of witty banter (of which there are many), fleshed out a soundtrack that’s cemented itself in the nostalgia catalogue of my mind. “Red’s Ok,” in particular, is the wonderful variation on the tasteful electric guitar motif, shown just as we see Hellboy emerging from the wreckage of a car he’s just landed on top of, wielding the Good Samaritan in the film’s most honest-to-god movie poster moment. And we get the full, 7-minute long cut of “Where Fairies Dwell.” I was born in the right generation. Born too late to see the rockstars I like, born too early to explore space…but born just in time to be able to listen to “Fuck-Used”. Bless.
My good feelings towards Elfman himself have started to fade after the allegations that came out last year, and this doesn’t change that, but I can’t deny the talent that went into this soundtrack, as well as the countless others he’s crafted over the years. Admittedly, his work has become so entangled in my life that, even though I’m all for theoretically separating the art from the artist, the truth is often far more complicated than putting the allegations in one box and their art in the other. I don’t necessarily know if it’s a personal flaw that I can’t detach from people that easily (lord knows I haven’t been able to listen to Arcade Fire as often as I used to without feeling a little moral revulsion). It’s not like J.K. Rowling’s transphobia and other prejudices manifested out of thin air directly after she wrote Harry Potter. And yet, I’d be the world’s worst liar if I denied how dear this film is to me. 13-year-old me saw this and saw an image of found family, of freaks who banded together in a world that was bent on destroying them, of freaks showing affection and forgiveness towards the world and each other, and it stuck. It did something to me. It showed me a possibility of a future that I could live out. At least it’s just the soundtrack in this case, and not the film itself. That’s all safe. I don’t even want to entertain the notion of Guillermo del Toro having any metaphorical skeletons in his closet, because given what the guy’s house looks like, he definitely has some plastic ones lying around. But it seems like he’s the type to keep it to that.
So I’ll be excited for the middle schooler in me. When this came out, I painted my nails and listened to this as they dried, remembering that there was a part of me back then that should be cherished—the one that didn’t care what anybody thought, and the one that watched this movie at least once a month.
…AND A BOOK TO GO WITH IT:
Hellboy II: The Art of the Movie – Guillermo del Toro – yeah, this was the obvious pick, but what else was I gonna do? Put in the movie novelization? Imagine swapping out “Dr. Manning, suck my ectoplasmic schwanzstucker” for “Manning, you’re a jerk.” Unconscionable.
It’s been almost a month since TANGK was released, and I find myself drawn to it over and over again, simply because it’s so IDLES in a way that I haven’t seen from them. Like I said when I talked about “A Gospel” back when the album was released, it’s a beast that’s half old and half new, but brimming with the same ethos of kindness with a hard-edged sound. While “A Gospel” and “Grace” were the album’s pinnacles of vulnerability, “POP POP POP” just seems like the place where Nigel Godrich went nuts—it feels like IDLES trying to make a Radiohead song, but never once does it feel like a blatant imitation. It has an angular, jerky smoothness to it, with the combination of synths that buzz like a hive of insects with Joe Talbot’s voice—the lyrics aren’t screamed like he tends to do, but with a dry, disaffected drawl that signals irony, but knowing IDLES, it’s a sign of bare sincerity just as any other bellow he lets out. On the inside, the lyrics are similar to most of the material on this album—a shield of kindness against a wave of hatred: “Strong like bull/Vulnerable (vulnerable)/Keep my people up/That’s my tool.”
But there’s something resolute about the way that “POP POP POP” is delivered—it’s almost like he’s drawing not from a place of repeating himself, but convincing himself of his mission. I’ve seen a fair amount of people in internet music circles roll their eyes at IDLES for acting like their lyrics are more radical than they are, which…I halfway understand. A lot of their subject matter in their music isn’t exactly new in terms of political fodder to spin into music. But is there really anything new, political or otherwise, that you can write a song about? I find myself thinking of Audre Lorde and her essay “Poetry is Not a Luxury,” where she states that “…there are no new ideas. There are only new ways of making them felt, of examining what our ideas really mean on Sunday morning at 7 AM…[while] making war, giving birth.” I get why people are put off by IDLES seemingly acting like their ideas are new (I’ve never gotten that impression, but that’s just me), but personally, that was never what was radical about them—it’s their approach to kindness. It’s unclear whether this is the exact criticism that may have spawned “POP POP POP,” but the final verse, chanted like a prayer as the hive of synths descends into a buzzy, Kid-A maelstrom, feels like Talbot convincing himself of the message that he and the band have always pioneered: “Imposter, imposter, living in my head/Am I the spider in your bed?/A dead canary and a thief for a king/A cheerleader valiant/But I will sing about love, love…” And as his voice gets overlaid, the final chant that rings out is the tagline for the later track “Grace” and this album’s tour: “love is the fing.” It feels like reassurance in a sea of self-doubt, a reminder of a message to be held dear, a mission statement lost in the mist but found again when it came time to look back and remember why they created it in the first place. And as with the ending of this song, what persists is four essential words: “love is the fing.” You look back into all of the mess that your creativity has taken you, and what you find at the center is the love that motivated you to create in the first place.
…AND A BOOK TO GO WITH IT:
Kindling – Traci Chee – I just reviewed this one, so it’s pretty fresh in my mind, but the last, more distorted lyrics made me think of these characters and their struggles to grow out of their trauma and persist—”Imposter, imposter, living in my head/Am I the spider in your bed?/A dead canary and a thief for a king/A cheerleader valiant/But I will sing about love, love…”
The other day, I decided to listen to Apple Music’s Love station on a whim—I was drawing before bed, and I wanted something new to listen to. It ended up having mostly hits, some misses (one of the hits was “After Hours,” but I’m honestly concerned about the fact that there was…an Elliott Smith song on there? Not the weirdest Apple Music pick, but I don’t know if that screams “love”…), but it was the reason that I stumbled upon this song, which I am so grateful for. Scratch that—I’m grateful, but more than anything, I’m more surprised than anything that I’d never heard of her before then, given the company that she kept: she was first discovered by James Brown, and later collaborated with everybody from The Rolling Stones to Pink Floyd (she contributed backing vocals to Dark Side of the Moon, my god…). With all that, a musical based on her life, and a number one hit, you’d think we would be hearing more about her, but alas, nope. Whether or not that’s just another testament to how history treats Black women or the fact that she stepped away from the mainstream music industry after the ’70s is up in the air, but either way, I’m glad the Love station brought me to her.
I’ve always had a soft spot for that late ’50s-early ’60s soul. As much as I laud other artists for having intricately crafted lyrics, sometimes, it’s simplicity that wins out—and that was exactly what labels like Motown were the best at producing. Artists like The Temptations, the Ronettes, and others feel like they’ve distilled love—one of the most complex human emotions—down to its barest essentials. Every song becomes something so tender and universal that it feels like a warm blanket for the soul. Along with the rich vocals that often came with it, and you’ve got one of my favorite musical soft spots—I’ll take shreddy guitars any day, but sometimes, all I need is some wholesome love. That’s exactly how “Just One Look” feels—brimming with warmth, and the perfect tempo for slow-dancing in the kitchen. Only seconds into the song, and you can hear exactly why Troy’s fans gave her the nickname “Mama Soul”—soulful is the only adequate word to describe her rich, soaring voice. Combined with the air light touch on the piano keys, and I’ve got another comfort song in my collection—there’s something to be said for simplicity.
…AND A BOOK TO GO WITH IT:
DC: The New Frontier, vol. 1 – Darwyn Cooke – the lyrics for this song are so universal that they could cover any kind of romance, so instead, I went for the time period; the late ’50s-early ’60s setting of The New Frontier is settled right in the same era.
Since this post consists entirely of songs, consider all of them to be today’s song.
That’s it for this week’s Sunday Songs! Have a wonderful rest of your day, and take care of yourselves!
Happy Sunday, bibliophiles! I hope this week has treated you well. 💗
I’m not even touching the fact that we’re somehow already halfway through March, but the passage of time is fine, right? Right? Hopefully the shades of red in this week’s songs are blinding enough to distract you from the fact. Would’ve been a more fitting color scheme for Valentine’s Day, but I’m a non-conformist if nothing else.
It’s been a few years since I found out about Suki Waterhouse via Apple Music and “Johanna,” but now, I’ve come to the conclusion that she’s only ever made…one or two different songs. Is she good at it? I’d say so. A good 90% of the time, at least. Strangely, her songs work better solitarily for me; after listening to her debut album I Can’t Let Go in full, I had a decent listening experience, but, again—same song 10 times. It got a little tiring, but I got some nuggets of goodness out of it.
So after I found out that “To Love” had been released, I went in expecting more of the same. Lyrically, it’s still the same song, but it’s gotten me so excited that the instrumentation has started to change! Waterhouse has embraced sweeping maximalism in this song, with starry guitar tones reminiscent of the 70’s, an orchestral hum in the chorus, and no shortage of grandeur as she sings of losing herself in a once-in-a-lifetime love. And with all of her songs, her airy, sparkling voice provides an anchor for the journey that the instrumentation goes on—light on one verse, then diving straight into an ocean of orchestral wonder. It easily separates itself from most of her other catalogue, and although I can easily see her riding the same wave for the rest of her musical career, part of me is still holding onto hope that she’ll embrace this feel.
After I heard about Sorry and “Starstruck”from my brother a few weeks back, I went on a brief frenzy and downloaded a handful of songs from their 2020 album 925 and then left it alone. I still need to listen to said album, but when the dust settled, I was left with “Heather” as one of the standouts. In contrast to the wry, post-punk sensibilities of “Starstruck,” “Heather” gently sways, a listless stare out the window as a spring drizzle trails down the glass. Threads of chaotic instrumentation linger in the background, but the song remains a gently rocking hammock, keeping momentum but never snapping loose. Asha Lorenz’s voice comes off continuously tired, slipping at the edges, but it’s the perfect fit for this song, singing of “The only one you’d choose/to spend your rainy days with.” Somehow, this song is able to make the line “we’ll lie like dead birds in the heather” sound bizarrely romantic, just as innocuous as the acoustic guitar strums. Even with Lorenz’s voice croaks in the background of the chorus, there’s still a gentle whimsy to it, an easy head-nodder to stare up at a sunset to.
The cycle never ends. I see any interview with Jack White. I want to hate his guts. And then this comes on shuffle, and I really can’t…WHY DO YOU KEEP DOING THIS TO ME? CAN YOU NOT BE SO OBNOXIOUS SO I CAN PROPERLY APPRECIATE HOW FANTASTIC OF A GUITARIST YOU ARE, DUDE? He’s the kind of guy with the misplaced bravado to say that, on the eve of him filming the documentary “It Might Get Loud” alongside The Edge and Jimmy Page, they would probably “get in a fistfight.” Most of the time, that kind of bravado doesn’t have the talent to back it up. I’m not justifying…him™️ at all, but for once, he has the sheer musical talent to back it up. There’s a reason that he was put alongside the likes of The Edge and Page.
Just like the way it unexpectedly appeared on my shuffle not too long ago, “Black Math” immediately kicks in with a sudden and propulsive burst of guitar. White’s fuzzed-out notes, all at once tightly controlled and wild and reckless, never steer off course—every intricate riff tossed in feels intentional, as though they were lined up like chess pieces, stationary but ready to attack at any second. Though the momentum skids into a sludgier, crunchy, slow-tempo area in places, there’s never a sense that either White or White (that’s not confusing at all, and again, Jack White specifically did not have to make it even more so…really, dude, why) have let the reins go free, still holding a tight grip on a timelessly tight song.
Black? Burgundy? We’ve got an interesting musical color scheme here…surely I won’t be piling both of these songs on my “songs with color names in the title” playlist that I made because I got bored…nuh uh…
My tendency to give mediocre to bad things “just one more chance” hasn’t led me anywhere 95% of the time. It applies to way too many parts of my life. But sometimes, there’s that 5% off-chance that an artist will prove me wrong, dredging up an occasional offering of brightness, and that’s what I’ve found here. Hopefully, this won’t be the reason that I keep doing it with music, but…
Most of what I know of Warpaint boils down to two songs. I’ve loved their cover of David Bowie’s “Ashes to Ashes,” which my dad turned me onto shortly after Bowie passed away, and when we still had the radio in my mom’s car, “New Song” was on heavy rotation on the indie station. I tried to listen to their 2014 self-titled album a few years back, and though the details of the music itself are fuzzy, the disappointment I felt was distinct—nothing about it really did anything for me like I thought at least one song would. And yet, when I saw this appear on an Apple Music playlist the other day, I had a morbid curiosity to see if there was anything of worth in this song—lo and behold, there was. Bare and quiet, it ambles along gently, with Stella Mozgawa’s subtly syncopated drums. Emily Kokal seems content to let her vocals fade into the soft, unseen corners of the song’s musical landscape, making for an atmosphere that seems to drift like fog around your hear, constantly evaporating and reforming itself, ever-changing. It may not be enough to give the band as a whole another chance, but “Burgundy” is a song that I’ll surely keep in my back pocket.
I suppose we’re ending on a weighty one, aren’t we?
Jane’s Addiction is one of those bands that’s been ever-present in my life, but they only land with me every few songs. It took me a long time for this one to grow on me, as most of their songs do, but upon listening to it again, I was first struck by just how fantastic this violin is—I never knew his name before this song, but can we appreciate Charlie Bisharat for a moment? Against the rolling-wave, cyclical feel of the song (more on that later), his playing is fiercely frenetic, all at once jagged and rich with vibrancy, brighter than the red on the borders of the album cover for Ritual De Lo Habitual. Even when the other instruments take center stage, Bisharat’s playing shines through, translating itself into the lyrics themselves—I love how sharp and stinging the notes become after the line “When I was a boy/My big brother held onto my hand/And he made me slap my own face”? I’m a sucker for instances where the instruments become just as much a part of the lyrics as the lyrics themselves.
Lyrically, on a surface-level listen, it would be easy to take this song cynically—there’s images aplenty of human animals eating and clawing at each other to reach the top, the constant motif of getting slapped in the face. But the slap in the face is key here—all of that dog-eat-dog cynicism is flipped to the chorus of “a sensation not unlike slapping yourself in the face.” All you’re doing with that violently competitive mentality is screwing yourself over. It’s easy to miss, but it’s an important distinction to make—I could go on for ages about how capitalism has infected so many of us, especially in the U.S., with this mentality, but beyond the song, I like to take it as proof that working against each other is what will drive us into the ground. It’s become a little too relevant in the past few years, but even though “Of Course” has a somewhat universal message, it’s one that resonates a lot with these troubled times. Biting at each other’s heels is never getting us anywhere, and it never has. Jane’s Addiction may be generally hit-or-miss for me, but they struck gold when they put this out into the world.
Since this post consists entirely of songs, consider all of them to be today’s song.
That’s it for this week’s Sunday Songs! Have a wonderful rest of your day, and take care of yourselves!
As promised, here’s the sequel to the Zodiac Book Tag, the music tag. I love music almost as much as I love books, so this is a perfect fit for me! As with the book tag, this was created by Swift Walker @ Just Dreamland.
Tag at least 5 bloggers and provide links to their blogs.
Name your Zodiac sign!
Don’t forget to add #ItsAZodiacThing tag.
You can either do the zodiac book tag /the zodiac musictag or both of them. Graphics for separate tags should be given at the end.
Enjoy!
As I mentioned in the book tag, I’m (barely) a Leo. 🙂 ♌️
So let’s begin, shall we?
(EDIT: I had to take some of the graphics out bc they were disappearing…)
🎼ZODIAC MUSIC TAG🎼
ARIES: the song that got your blood pumping and heart beating fast
I can’t think of this song without thinking of this video of a Björk concert where she said something like “and here’s a little song to help you go to sleep 🙃” and then started playing this –
TAURUS: A song to celebrate your love when you’re in a commitment with someone
There’s a more recent version of this one but I like this one better :,)
I mean, the last two minutes (or thereabouts) of the song being “don’t worry/you and me won’t be alone no more” sums it up pretty well, right? :,)
GEMINI: A song to listen to when you get tongue-tied and miscommunicate your feelings
I’M FINE, I’M FINE, I SWEAR I’M FINE –
CANCER: A song that motivated you to take a chance and open yourself up to love
Uh? This prompt was really hard for me for some reason, but…I guess it fits? Haven’t really had a song that’s had that effect on me? Not really sure, but I love it.
LEO: A song that shows affection
This is…I think this is the least depressing of Montreal song, and that’s definitely saying something…
VIRGO: A song with a sentiment that made you feel beautiful inside and out
This was my comfort song a few years ago, and it’s still my comfort song now… :,)
LIBRA: A song that shows a person is truly and madly in love
I still think that this is one of the sweetest, softest love songs…the Soccer Mommy cover is incredible too 🥺
SCORPIO: A song which is unapologetically pledging their undying affection to their crush
Whoops, doubled up on the Björk songs…
But again, a whole string of “I love him, I love him/(she loves him, she loves him)” at the very end sums it all up, doesn’t it?
SAGITTARIUS: An exciting, spontaneous song
[BLEEPITY BLOOP INTENSIFIES]
CAPRICORN: A song that promotes self-love
The chorus is certainly a weirdo anthem of sorts…gotta love Sidney Gish’s lyrics
AQUARIUS: A song that has more to do with friendship than being in a relationship
…whoops, here’s the most predictable answer…
This one’s a childhood favorite, though. Classic.
PISCES: A song that’s all about unconditional love
THIS VIDEO 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺
Even though October isn’t Pisces season I had to stick this one in here
And YOU! If I didn’t tag you and you want to do this tag, then go ahead! And if I tagged you and you’ve already done it/don’t want to do it, my bad. (Consider yourself tagged for the book tag as well!)
Since this post is full of songs, just consider everything in here today’s song.
That’s it for this music tag! Have a wonderful rest of your day, and take care of yourselves!
Happy Halloween, bibliophiles! 🎃 Since 2020 derailed my original halloween plans (I was going to be Rogue from X-Men, but I’ll probably save that for next year), I just slapped on some dark eyeshadow and drew bats on my face with eyeliner, because why not. We’re carving pumpkins later (I’m gonna try and do the Fargo logo, I’m probably gonna screw it up but it’ll still be fun), and we’re watching The Nightmare Before Christmas and Beetlejuice later!
Watch me dump all the What We Do in the Shadows gifs in this post…also, sidenote, this cat is my profile picture on my school Google account 🤣
It’s time for another Top 5 Saturday! This was originally started by Devouring Books, and it sounded like such a fun post to take part in. Today’s topic is vampire books, just in time for Halloween! I haven’t read much vampire literature (and let it be known that I will never touch anything related to Twilight with a ten foot stake pole), but I have some on my TBR, so except for one book, this is all from my TBR.
Share your top 5 books of the current topic– these can be books that you want to read, have read and loved, have read and hated, you can do it any way you want.
This one’s a collection of short stories! I’ve read novels by a few of these authors, but I’m especially excited for what Heidi Heilig has to over. I have this one on hold at the library, and it looks like it’ll be coming soon!
The Bookish Mutant 