Tag Archives: Warpaint

“What a mess a little time makes to us when time and place collide.”

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Five years ago today I was sat in a room at University in an Online Journalism class. This module basically was for us all to start our own blog. What we did with it after the module ended was our own business I guess. I carried on. I carried on because I found a platform where I could express my love for music in a way I’d never done before. It wasn’t just music, it was life events and situations that also tie in with music. Which made me realise that music is my life, it truly truly is. Everyone has a passion in life, it’s obviously what mine is.

Over the past five years of running this blog I have been fortunate enough to befriend bands (Royal Chant, I’m looking at you..lovingly of course) and I’ve discovered new bands that have just blown my mind. I’ve interviewed bands/singers that have inspired me in many ways (meeting Warpaint was beyond words) and I also made my role model, Shirley Manson cry with a piece I wrote about how important Garbage’s record Bleed Like Me is to me.  Being thanked by Crocodiles for something I wrote about them meant more to me than I ever thought it would. I’ve never been paid to write anything, and as clichéd as it sounds- no amount of money can put a price on any of that, and also how much I love writing about music.

I’m still convinced that the only person who reads this is my mum. I’ll never get why anyone would go out of their way to read one of my rants, but when I get an email or whatever from someone on the other side of the world telling me they connected with something I’ve written; it justifies why I write. I do it for me, but I also do it in the hopes someone who loves music as much as I do doesn’t feel so alone and strange with their love for it.

Take comfort where you can.

“Lately, I’m not the only one. I say, never trust anyone.”

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I know age isn’t important. I know it’s not a big deal, but when your 26th birthday is creeping up on you; you cannot help but think “what the hell have I done with my life?!” I know this will pass soon, and on my actual birthday I probably won’t even pay any attention to how old I am. I don’t look my age at all. I look like I probably should be in school. Youthful skin. Maybe that’s my Italian genes coming through. Or maybe it’s because I nap a lot. I have no idea. The key is to moisturise. Always. In the morning and before you go to bed. Look after your skin, and you too can look as if you should pay child’s fare on the bus. Skin tips from a scruffy bint. Enjoy.

Last year when I turned 25 I think I had a brief moment of “oh fuck I’m nearly 30 what have I done with my life?!” And I think it is going to happen again. I don’t know why because no part of me does things in the hopes of getting approval of anyone. I don’t wish for that ever. If that was the case; I’d just be like everyone else. I don’t make an effort to not be like anyone else. This is how I turned out. Whether or not its a good thing, well that’s undecided. Maybe as I get older I may tolerate myself a bit more. Maybe I’ll stop being cruel towards myself. However, if I get in first; it won’t matter so much when someone else does. But there are things others say/ do that probably hurt a bit more than if I was to pick up on it about myself. But, it isn’t worth the time. Not much is. Time. Time. Time. Ages us all, aches us all. Us.

I maintain an element of silliness to make sure I don’t age too much mentally. If I see someone trip up in the street (providing they are not bleeding to death or a pensioner) I’ll probably find it funny. I think most are like that. When you take everything too seriously, it all loses meaning. And we’re all trying to find meaning. Maybe we’ll never know. Maybe we do know, but still want to keep looking. The answers can come from looking outside or from your own reflection. Just depends on how deep you want to get.

So, as I approach 26 I do wonder if I’ve done anything of worth. I just don’t know. I really don’t. My life pretty much revolves around music and I guess I hold interviewing Warpaint as the best thing I’ve ever done. I’ve met and spoken to some of my heroes; and they say you should never do that. But I know of many who have done so, and it being a pleasant experience. I fully endorse meeting those who have changed you and saved you. Sure it’s mainly to do with music for me, but there’s about 2 people who I class as friends that have also done this. So maybe interviewing Warpaint may only be the best thing I’ll ever do. I have no idea. Or maybe it was that time about a year ago when I showed Shirley Manson a piece I wrote about Bleed Like Me on her Facebook page, and she read it. Then told me it made her cry. How many people can say they’ve made their role model/idol cry? I’m still trying to work out if I’m proud of that or not. I’m not sure. I feel bad about it, but I’m glad she saw it.

This seems far too self-indulgent and no doubt I will dislike myself for writing this down. But it is better than a drunken outburst on a pavement with friends moaning about how I’ve done nothing with my life isn’t it. Some things you need to spare others from ever seeing.

It’s just an age. It means nothing. Those kinds of things do not define who we are. I’ve also finished watching all of The Wire again for the third time. Still kind of wish Jimmy McNulty was my best friend or something. And I’m going to always be pissed that they killed Bodie and Omar. That wasn’t right.

Anyway, have some songs; if you’ve got this far. Here’s to the bands/singers over the past (nearly) 26 years that have been my crutch and saviours.

 

 

“A confession’s not a cure. There’s always darkenss to endure, on the path to be redeemed.”

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Last night I went through all my stuff that I finally got out of storage. It had been in there for the past 11 months. It had been left in a place that I wouldn’t wish my worst enemy to go to (it must be added that I personally don’t have one, but I’m sure there are enough that hate me.) It was a place that’ll drain your soul and probably catapult your self-hate to a whole new level. I mean sure where I am living now does just the same, but I can hide from it easily. Places that ruin you cause you to go in on yourself. They also cause you to loath the skin you are in; but what can you do about it? Whilst I was going through all my stuff; I found some books that I’ve put to one side that I just need to re-read again. I’ve got a few books that I can read over and over again, and every time I do I find something else to love about the author and the book. Anyway, amongst all my stuff was an old mobile phone. I charged the phone for a bit, and I switched it on. My gut was saying “Why are you doing this?!” Turns out my head did the same too. So, I went through old messages. That wasn’t a smart move. But something clicked. Maybe all the texts from certain people were a lie; but things are different now. Maybe I had more than than I do now. Or maybe what I have now is a billion times better than it was. Truth is- I have nothing. I really don’t. I don’t mean this in a “woe is me” kind of way. Far from it, I’m not that kind of person. Self-pity is one of the worst things in the world. I mean, I don’t really hold onto things. So I went through some messages and turned the phone off. Sure it made me sad for a few minutes but then I saw some messages on the phone I have now. You compare the two and what I have now is more believable. I don’t know what it is, I may never know- but it’s working. It’s fine. I may have nothing going for me in a “job” sense but I’ve got other things that you cannot put a price on.

I know I am far too sentimental and sensitive for my own good. I know I need to toughen up; but if I did, that’d mean I was going against all I am and all I stand for. I don’t stand for much. Just the basic rule of being gentle and kind. That’s all I’ve got, that’s all I am. I feel like a boomerang and I need a home. I need something permanent. I’m nearly 26; I just want to settle anywhere but here. The year is nearly done, and I’ve done nothing of worth. Maybe I can change that next year. I tried to change it this year, but I didn’t get very far. Some of us are meant to succeed, some of us just waste our time trying. I need to figure out what I’m doing, but I feel sometimes that it’s too late. Should I have gone to uni? Should I ever have started writing? Should I start again? I have no idea. The only thing you can do is carry on in the hopes a solid answer just smacks you in the face. The things I want to do are constantly being shunned and told “oh you’ll never do it, you can’t do that.” In my head I think, “Fuck you.” But I just lower my head and carry on. What else can you do? I was told recently by a stranger, “The bands you love, they all started out with nothing and now they’re something. Use that.” A total stranger believes in me. Strangers are kind; they’re not all bad. She also said I had “lost eyes” but I’m not sure what she meant by that.

So anyway, my point is- leave the past in the past. It is okay to have self-doubt. It is okay to not be your biggest fan. It is okay to have shit days; but don’t forget the good ones. It’s okay to walk away and leave things/people behind because they probably didn’t realise you had gone anyway. To hell with what anyone tells you; do what makes YOU happy and for shits sake- put YOURSELF first because no one else will. Let them say you’re selfish if they must, but they’ve got it wrong. Try a different point of you, and be kind.

“We can all be free, maybe not in words. Maybe not with a look. But with your mind.”

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The connection you feel to a piece of music, or even a band has the power to be the most powerful connection you will ever know. That moment when you are alone and all you have is a song; that’s when it all takes over. You slip away from reality and fall into the unknown. Crawling out of it isn’t exactly what you want. And you place every desire on hold for a specific moment. These moments mean more to you than you have ever known. Have you ever truly known anything? Everything others give you has the potential to give you an aching heart and a swine of a headache. Push it aside, they’ll say you’re wrong. Deal with it, and they will still say you’re wrong. Ignore the fools. That pat on the back that crave had better come from you and nobody else. As they will not mean it; but you will. You truly will, because you will know you deserve it. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait.

Time is precious, so they say. So is patience and your own feelings. A lot of things are delicate but we seem to no longer handle with care. We are disposable with others, and it is frightening how cruel everyone is to each other.

Connection is important. You don’t have to feel like you belong, but you can help by making others feel welcome. Open your heart up for the right ones. The second someone holds what you say to them against you; walk away. Fast. Or run if you want. Just leave them alone. Bad people, bad vibes. You don’t need that. Find it in a song, find the trait you desire and move on. I have no idea where this is coming from. But it’s okay, because it isn’t something one should read. It is simply something one had to write down. I use “one” in the least upper-class way possible, I just didn’t want to use another word. And I like the word “one.” It stands for a lot, and can mean a lot. Even if it is a singular.

We can be alone in heart and mind. Yet, we can be free in heart and mind. Body also.

Find that connection.

“I’m the fury in your head, I’m the fury in your bed. I’m the ghost in the back of your head.”

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I was walking home from my morning ritual of slowly killing myself at the gym (it needs to pay off one day) and it began to rain. I already looked a mess, so what harm would a bit of rain do?

Everything in that moment seemed alright. Maybe it was the songs I listened to. Or maybe I knew I was going home, and I was going to nap. Sure it was a really shit nap, but I was going to be asleep. I like being asleep because I’m no trouble to anyone. I’ve gone back 10 years, I feel 15 again. It’ll pass. It must do.

Everything positive has something negative. Everything negative has something positive. Everything seems to be balanced, but you always find yourself leaning towards one side. Or maybe you are being pulled towards a side you cannot stand. Yet you must go there. Rock bottom is a lesson for us all. Does it exist? Is it just an idle threat to make us feel worse than we already do? You always think you’ve hit your lowest point, you think you cannot get any lower. Like things cannot get worse, but can they? They get better. They also can get worse. See, it is all balanced out.

So you close your eyes around 2am hoping sleep comes. It comes eventually. When you sleep, do you dream? Do you doubt yourself in dreams too? You don’t always get what you want- dreaming or awake. I hate that I function better when I am tired. When I am tired, certain things make more sense. When I’m awake, I think I usually want to sleep and watch Disney films.

Sometimes we make ourselves out to be awful. Maybe it is from past abandonment, maybe we’re not sure of ourselves, maybe we’re not truly awful. We’ve all got our faults, we shouldn’t let them rule us.

As I’m not one for ever listening to myself, have some songs that made dragging myself home in the rain a lot less awful.

“Don’t make a sound they’re not dead, just sleeping.”

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The intro of a song can either leave you in awe and hold all your attention. Or it can make you think “Well fuck this, I’m going to have a bath instead.” It can leave you wanting more or leave you never wanting to hear anything ever again. My attention span is getting worse. As I get older, I find my interests decreasing. All I used to enjoy I probably now dislike. Maybe I’m just really difficult. It’s alright; I annoy myself on a daily basis.

There are some intros to songs that just blow you mine. It’s not really something I gave much thought to until recently where it became intense and a brief obsession. I’d play some songs, but it’d only be the first 30 seconds or so, then I’d listen to something else. It’s impossible for anyone to say what THE greatest intro to a song of all time is. Everyone has an opinion. The ones I’m going to put here may be ones most would think, “The fuck is she thinking.” This is the only place where I have an opinion. I’ve learnt people don’t like it when you say what you think. So I think, and don’t really speak. I don’t say much because I don’t have much to say, and believe anything I say is not really interesting. Why speak if you know this about yourself? I know I sound like a morbid twat, but whatever. We don’t know each other.

The start of something, anything- it doesn’t have to be a song, is usually a wonderful thing. You make it beautiful because you want it to last. It doesn’t last. With a song you can just hit repeat and create different moments every single time. You can throw yourself back in time, or you can make do with your current surroundings. It is all up to you. A song can carry you and control you- but in a pleasurable way. Anything else can sometimes just be a huge burden.

My favourite intro to any song ever has to be Elephant by Warpaint. I remember when I first heard it. I felt as if something incredible had happened. I felt everything turn and change inside of me. I felt a hint of being alive. Everytime I feel as if I’m dragging myself through because I cannot move, I play this song. As soon as Emily’s voice comes in, I feel as if every part of me has been saved. As if it has been saved for a reason. Most of the time, I believe there is no reason. This song however, gives me some kind of faith. A bit of hope. Courage is a different matter. I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t sway like Jenny Lee Lindberg when they listen to Warpaint. You cannot help but move your body around in a trance-like way. You feel every note. You feel every single part of the song. My love for Warpaint is unconditional and intense. I just don’t think any other band can rule my soul as much as they do. The Kills have my heart, Warpaint have my soul and The Jesus And Mary Chain have my mind.

An intro to a song can stop you from doing what you were doing. You pause, and you feel yourself fall under the spell of the song. My favourites are the kind that just build and build. The bands I listen to and love are those who create an atmosphere that at times is quite dark, but give you something to cling onto. They conjure up feelings you never thought you could ever have. Sometimes intense, but for the most part it is the most euphoric state you could ever be in.

So, I’ve basically rambled enough. I could EASILY write more words, but obviously the music speaks for itself.

These are my favourite intros ever. I’ll probably think of more, and I’ll probably want to change my mind. Typical!

“Release your mind, through your hands and your feet. A sigh digs you out when you’re getting too deep.”

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Fools judge, so spit the cold words back at them. Ever look at something and think, “Fuck I can’t be here.” So you try your hardest to transport all your thoughts elsewhere? This happened to me today. Sure it happens most of the time to be honest. But today it was more vivid than usual. You don’t want to have these thoughts whilst on a treadmill, it can cause accidents. I was fine. I’m steady. I’m quite clumsy at times though. My attention is easily diverted. I’m writing this and doing about 3 other things because this isn’t enough to hold my attention. I’m going somewhere better than just typing words on a screen.

The only thing that can truly hold my attention is music. Okay a couple of people do too..but music is a solid. I think it is the only secure thing in my life. That said; I really dislike organisation and being told what to do. I hate being rushed. Hate it. Nothing in life needs to be rushed. Move at the pace of a sloth..well, maybe a bit quicker but you know what I mean. You gather up your thoughts and place them in boxes in your mind. I don’t do that. Everything is pushed back. In a heap. This for me, isn’t a bad thing. I’m more likely to have a song playing round my head than anything else.

The escapism is still there; always. I always want to leave where I am. Always. I probably came out of the womb wishing I was born elsewhere. They teach you to do what you want, but when you do some fuck says you’re wrong. But you aren’t wrong. They’re wrong.

Something will always take over you. Something will make you snap. I long for the day where I can leave and never come back. It’ll be a moment I look back on and feel I’ve finally done something right. Sometimes you want to tear your eyes out in the hopes a new pair grow back and you see things differently. Just because you can see things differently doesn’t mean your heart feels any different.

Kicking and screaming. Dragging and wailing. Get out. Find a sound and let it take you over. Get out. Just get out.

But I am incapable of taking my own advice, and I hate the way I write.

 

“Crash and burn, all the stars explode tonight. How’d you get so desperate? How’d you stay alive?”

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“Get well soon, please don’t go any higher
How are you so burnt when you’re  barely on fire?”

They say you’ve got to hit rock bottom in order to be a better person. What if you weren’t shit to start with? What if you thought you were okay, but fucks spat down judgment on you..leading you to believe you are actually a really shit person? What do you do? What about when you hide everything in order to keep a sense of normality, so you don’t fully lose it? What if you cannot get the words out, and all you can do is tell anyone who shows a hint of caring that you’re totally okay. What happens when they place you are currently “living” in has killed all the good in you? What if…what if…Fucks sake. It’s all so bloody stupid isn’t it. When you think about it, you’re just some stupid fool with no direction. Because all the directions you took have led you nowhere. Nowhere can be your bedroom at 4am hating your own skin. Nowhere can be sat on a bench waiting for something slightly interesting to happen. Nowhere can be in the eyes of the one you love. Nowhere and nothing go hand in hand. There’s a song for everything, for everyone. Those thoughts you have; well, someone else had the same ones and probably wrote a song about it all. You’ll return to your “normal” self eventually, you just have to work out what that is. I should take my own advice. But my own advice is for anyone and everyone but me. I have no problem writing like this because I know nobody will read it. Once it leaves my brain and ends up on the screen, it is no longer mine. Nothing is mine, no one is mine. I own nothing. Even my Docs are coming apart. My favourite band shirt has a hole in it. As you sink further and further, what song will you play as you fall? What song will pull you back up? I’ll never read this again, which is why none of this will make sense. I rarely re-read what I write here. Mainly because I know it doesn’t make sense. I don’t like organisation. I don’t like things making sense. I don’t like knowing some things. Uncertainty for me, is a good thing. Self-doubt for me, is a good thing.

But every fucking word I’ve written, every word I have ever said has been said by someone else. And they did it better. I can only say I’m sorry, but I’ll keep doing it. And for that, I am also sorry.

“We hide out in the back,like shadows in a stranger’s dream.”

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I have no direction in life. I know what I want, but the realist (or cynic) in me knows I’ll never get there. If I do, I’ll welcome the surprise and probably buy a bottle of Ribena to celebrate. If I expect nothing; I’m not left disappointed. They say this makes for a lonely existence. Maybe for them it does, but not for me. You can be alone even when surrounded by people who apparently like you. It’s hard to like people isn’t it. I used to think “oh everyone is lovely la la la.” It’s not the case. You grow up and you see what people are capable of. I’m not perfect. I’ve probably done more harm than good. But I’m not going to beg for forgiveness and waste my life doing things people approve of. I don’t understand people who need to seek the approval of others in order to be whole. I don’t get why you’d want to dumb yourself down to fit in. I don’t get a lot, it seems. Thing is, self-doubt carries me through. I spent an afternoon the other day at the beach, on my own. These thoughts came into my mind and poured out into the songs I was listening to. We all have bad days, we all have good days. My bad day was enough to make me think, “Is this rock bottom?” It wasn’t. I’ve not hit there in a long time. I put up a fight with myself to make sure I never feel so shit again. I can write this so freely and not care for it. I’ll write this and never look at it again. I never look back on what I have written. Whether it be the nonsense I put here, my songs or my poems. I never look back at them. I don’t know why. Maybe I just think as soon as it leaves me, I don’t need to bother with it. Maybe one day I’ll look back and be proud. As I stood looking at the sea last week, I felt at peace. I also felt like shit. But the wave of peace that came over me was something I’ve not really felt before. I stared blasting Coming Down by Dum Dum Girls in my ears. I felt a connection to that song I had never felt before.

Very early Friday morning..Dee Dee Penny from the band had emailed me her over of Just Like Honey by The Jesus And Mary Chain that she recorded just for me. Quite frankly, it is the best thing I had been given. The tears of the day before were quickly taken over with happy tears. I’m not someone who cries a lot. I’m too sensitive, but I can stop myself. You shouldn’t be afraid to feel. You shouldn’t be scared of the bad days. You shouldn’t throw away the good days. We seem to be afraid to feel. To feel like shit, to love and to feel hurt. It all ties in, but you cannot ignore one side. You just can’t.

The more you hide from something; the worse it’ll be when it comes back around. Luckily, no one I am really close to will read this so I can just let all this out. Like I said earlier, self-doubt isn’t a bad thing. If I ever thought I was good at something; I wouldn’t try. If I thought I was even a decent writer, I’d stop. I’d rather be told “you write really well” rather than “you’ve got a good face.” I don’t believe any of these things, not because I want attention. If I wanted attention I’d get drunk and shout something from my bedroom window. Keep me in the background, part of the furniture. Let someone else shine. Let them over-take. I’m okay with moving slow and doing what I want rather than doing everything rushed and missing out the details. I’ll never be the love of someone’s life. I’ll never be able to play the drums. But I will do a Bob Dylan impression after a few glasses of whiskey if I feel it needs to be done. I found life lessons in the songs I played. I’ve never felt at home anywhere, maybe I’m one of those people who never is at home anywhere. I don’t like routine or structure. I don’t like plans. Everything around you can be beautiful, find an escape route. Or be the escape route. Maybe fate is something that doesn’t exist. The lack of control we have isn’t always a bad thing. I don’t get why you’d always want to be in control of everything. If it is unknown, keep it that way.

I live in a very judgmental place and I cannot wait to leave again. To leave for good. I left one place I hated for good. I’ll never go back. Leaving is easy when you let no one tell you what to do. Advice is alright, but you shouldn’t always do what is right for you. Put your OWN happiness first. Put yourself first. Don’t let anyone sway your heart. Go the beach, and listen to the songs that give you courage.

Here’s mine:

“Did they tell you, you should grow up, when you wanted to dream. Did they warn you, better shape up if you want to succeed.”

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I took a walk just now. Whilst walking, a Metric song came on and it just made me realise that it is okay to be my age (25) and still be a dreamer. Someone who isn’t always sure of everything around them, but knows what they want. They do all they can to get it, but something gets in the way. That something at times, holds you back. But you still keep going. Sometimes a song is all it takes for you to keep on dreaming. To keep everything in you alive. It is hard, I bloody well know it is. You see, I’ve been a freelancing fool for 6 and a half years now. I’ve had this site since early 2008. I’ve had times where I wanted to just say “Fuck this..fuck it all. I can’t no more.” The constant self-doubt I carry on my back keeps me going. If I ever thought I was good at something, I wouldn’t do it. The self-doubt makes me work harder I guess. If I didn’t write, I’d probably be sectioned. I’d gnaw at my hands and rip my eyes out from frustration. Yet, for some stupid reason, I feel the need to write. I have no idea who reads this. Or even why someone would read the nonsense I write, but I just want to thank you. If I could buy you a cup of tea and hug you- I would. If you’re a friend of mine, that’s pretty cool. But I know none of my friends read this. It’s cool. I’m pretty sure most read this and think, “What the hell is this idiot doing? I can do better than her. She’s useless.” Probably. You probably can. I do it for the love of music. I don’t do it for any other reason. I know I want to make a living from this, but truth be told-I never will. I guess you cannot put a price on something you love. So this is going to be a collection of songs that make me feel alright with being a dreamer, I guess. Thing is, I know what the reality around me is. I’m not happy with it, but only I can change it.

Maybe one day, one of my daft dreams will come true. Maybe one day I’ll get some poetry published. Maybe I’ll write a book. Maybes are okay- but you cannot live off them. Keep the dream alive, and do what you need to do. The following songs just give me hope, in their own unique  non-conventional way.