Mix Tape Monday: Let Me Live

posted by Jory on Monday, February 27, 2012 0 comments links to me
As you may know, I went to see Frank Turner live on Friday night. What you don't know, however, is that he ended the night with "Somebody to Love" by Queen. It made me really happy. Because I've loved Queen ever since I first sang along with Wayne and Garth jamming to Bohemian Rhapsody in their car.

Was that a run-on? I think it was. Oh well.

Anyway, I have this weird thing where I only listen to certain genres of music in certain seasons. It's not a rule. It just happens that way. Maybe it's because my moods change with the seasons. Whatever. My classic rock season is late Spring/early Summer. So, I jumped the gun a little this year and we can blame it on Frank.

All weekend after the show I kept playing "Let Me Live" on repeat. This song never gets old. I love that Freddie, Brian AND Roger sing. I love the choir-like harmonizing. I love Brian's fantastic guitar solo. I mean, no one can make a guitar sing the way Brian can. He's ridiculous. So here's one of my all time favorites, enjoy!

P.S. Here's a link to an earlier version of the song. Read the comments. They're entertaining.

P.P.S. I don't much like the video. If you want to be cool, just close your eyes and listen.




"Let Me Live" by Queen
Oooh, take a piece of my heart
Oooh, take a piece of my soul
Let me live, oh yeah

Why don't you take another little piece of my heart
Why don't you take it, and break it, and tear it all apart
All I do is give, All you do is take
Baby why don't you give me a brand new start

So let me live (so let me live)
Let me live (leave me alone)
Let me live, oh baby, and make a brand new start

Why don't you take another little piece of my soul
Why don't you shape it, and shake it, 'Til you're really in control
All you do is take, and all I do is give
All that I'm asking, is a chance to live

(So let me live) so let me live
(Leave me alone) let me live, let me live
(Why don't you let me make) a brand new start... Yeah
And it's a (long hard struggle) yeah
But you can always depend on me
And if you're (ever in trouble) - hey
You know where I will be

Why don't you take another little piece of my life
Why don't you twist it, and turn it, and cut it like a knife
All you do is live, all I do is die
Why can't we just be friends, stop living a lie

So let me live (so let me live)
Let me live (leave me alone)
Please let me live (Why don't you live a little)
Oh yeah baby (Why don't you give a little love)

Go for it baby Let me live, Please let me live
Oh yeah baby, let me live
And make a brand new start

Let me live (let me live), Oooh yeah (let me live), Come on (let me live)
In your heart
(Take another piece, take another piece)
(Take another piece, take another piece)
Please let me live
(Take another piece, take another piece)
(Take another piece, take another piece)
Why don't you take another, take another piece of my piece of my heart
Oh yeah baby
Make a brand new start baby, baby, baby
All you do is take (let me live)
(Oooh, Let me live)
Let me live, live, live...

Frank Turner Friday: Rivers

posted by Jory on Friday, February 24, 2012 0 comments links to me
I love this song so much. One, it makes me really want to go to England. Two, it does make me appreciate home a little more. Every place has history and character and life, you just have to be open to recognize it.

P.S. The violin is beautiful.

P.P.S. Today is going to be the most magical Frank Turner Friday EVER because I'm going to see him play live tonight. That's right. Be jealous. I'm already geared up with war paint.

Rad? I think so.



"Rivers" by Frank Turner

Our history runs down our rivers
Down our rivers to the sea
Reminds us of the things that matter
Home and hearth and history
All our sins will be forgiven
Washed away to set us free
By the rivers that run through our homesteads
By myth and modal melody

I trace these rivers from the cities to the seas
To remind me what I already know
I trace the shorelines through a thousand estuaries
To remind me an island is my home
An island is my home

I traveled far across this country
Nourthumberland to Southern Downs
I wandered up the rolling Humber
And down the Thames to London town
Countless lives were lived and lingered
In the Cotswolds and the Fells
And left a tapestry called England
Of life and those who lived it well

I trace these rivers from the cities to the seas
To remind me what I already know
I trace the shorelines through a thousand estuaries
To remind me an island is my home
An island is my home

Around here the sky's a little closer
A little closer to the ground
It's hard for someone to get lost here
Harder still to get found
Though I've seen a thousand rivers
From the Mississippi to the Rhine
The only place I'd lay my hat down
Is by an English riverside

I trace these rivers from the cities to the seas
To remind me what I already know
I trace the shorelines through a thousand estuaries
To remind me an island is my home
An island is my home

Place your trust into the sea
It's kept us safe for centuries
It shapes our shore and steadily
It's care has brought us calm
When I die I hope to be
Buried out in English seas
So all that then remains of me
Will lap against these shores
'Til England is no more

Things I'm Loving This Week

posted by Jory on Wednesday, February 22, 2012 0 comments links to me
1. The trees at Edgebrook. I love trees so much, but especially in the winter.
It's one of the few things I actually enjoy about winter.

2. The following furnishings I noticed at a local spa.



3. These prints I spotted at Target, of all places.


4. This lip balm called "Let Them Eat Cake" by Tokyo Milk that my friend Sarah gave to me for Christmas.

5. This Hammam hand scrub and cream by Davines
which, for some reason isn't on their website but can be purchased at Amazon.

6. This web short on Hulu: "Dating Rules from My Future Self"

You Answer: Prose

posted by Jory on Tuesday, February 21, 2012 0 comments links to me

I started reading this forum randomly and now I'm curious.
What's your favorite passage of prose?


Boredom

posted by Jory on Tuesday, February 21, 2012 0 comments links to me
I have it. With my blog design. I know what you're thinking. I change it every few months. What can I say? I have eclectic taste (read none) and change my mind frequently. So here's the question. Do I piddle away time trying to design a new layout? Or do I just keep working on my Wix so I don't have to use Blogger anymore? Suggestions appreciated (as long as you don't say WordPress, because I tried it and couldn't figure it out.)

Mix Tape Monday: To a Poet

posted by Jory on Monday, February 20, 2012 0 comments links to me
This song, "To a Poet," has the most beautiful harmonzing. It gives me chills. And then the lyrics just make me feel the anguish and sadness, even though I'm not actually sad. It's very moving. The line, "But Frank put it best when he said/'You can't plan on the heart,'" forced me to do a Google search and this poem on the right is what I discovered. I'm a little surprised I hadn't read it before, but then again, I've never had a major interest in poetry. I only know O'Hara by "Having a Coke with You." Anyways, here's the song and the poem. Enjoy.My Heart
by Frank O'Hara


I'm not going to cry all the time
nor shall I laugh all the time,
I don't prefer one "strain" to another.
I'd have the immediacy of a bad movie,
not just a sleeper, but also the big,
overproduced first-run kind. I want to be
at least as alive as the vulgar. And if
some aficionado of my mess says "That's
not like Frank!", all to the good! I
don't wear brown and grey suits all the time,
do I? No. I wear workshirts to the opera,
often. I want my feet to be bare,
I want my face to be shaven, and my heart--
you can't plan on the heart, but
the better part of it, my poetry, is open.

To a Poet - First Aid Kit
And you said, "Don't give me nothing
You don't want to lose"
I said, "Darling, I'll give you everything I got
If I want them to choose"

Then I got on a plane and flew
Far away from you
Though unwillingly I left
And it was so, so hard to do

The streets here at home had rapidly filled up
With the whitest of snow
And they don't make no excuse for themselves
And there's no need, I know

Now I miss you more than I can take
And I will surely break
And every morning that I wake
God, it's the same
There's nothing more to it,
I just get through it
Oh, there's nothing more to it
I just get through it


It always takes me by surprise
How dark it gets this time of the year
And how apparent it all becomes
That you're not close, not even near


No matter how many times I tell myself
I have to be sincere
I have a hard time standing up
And facing those fears


But Frank put it best when he said
"You can't plan on the heart"
Those words keep me on my feet
When I think I might just fall apart


Now I miss you more than I can take
And I will surely break
And every morning that I wake
God, it's the same
There's nothing more to it,I just get through it
Oh, there's nothing more to itI just get through it
Oh, there's nothing more to itI just get through it


And so I ask where are you now
Just when I needed you
I won't ask again
Because I know there's nothing we can do
Not now, darling, you know it's true

Frank Turner Friday: Nashville Tennessee

posted by Jory on Friday, February 17, 2012 0 comments links to me
I love this song. Why, you ask?
  1. I'm drawn in by Frank's national pride. Nothing has ever made me wish I was born English more than listening to his passionate lyrics.
  2. I find the line, "I'd get them in my band and then my band would get real far," extremely witty and particularly astute because it feels like the way to success has become so formulaic. 
  3. I love when musicians take simple or redundant tunes and make them interesting again. For example, the Beatles used the French national anthem in "All You Need is Love," and My Chemical Romance rocked Pachabel's "Canon in D" in "Black Parade." Frank just uses a simple ascending and descending scale and makes it work. I have a lot of respect for that. Also, the bridge keeps me from getting bored, as if I would have anyway.
  4. I love authenticity. This is what it looks like: "I know I don't break new ground, many have travelled this sound/But I try to make it sound like home."
  5. The last line: "The only thing I'm offering is me." That's all we need, Frank. That's all we need.
By the way, I'm posting two videos this week. (You lucky ducks). You'll understand my reasoning for the second one if you actually read the lyrics. So read the lyrics. The second video is at the bottom, so you have no excuse. Without further ado, heres ya go: 


Nashville Tennessee - Frank Turner
From the heart of the Southern Downs, to the North-East London reservoirs,
From the start, the land scaped my sound, before I'd ever been to America.


And if I knew anybody who played pedal steel guitar,
I'd get them in my band and then my band would get real far,
But I was raised in middle England, and not in Nashville Tennessee,
And the only person in my band is me.


A simple scale on an old guitar, and a punk rock sense of honesty.
I cannot fail, I've got this far with no knowledge of mid-west geography.


And if I knew anywhere where I could drive in a straight line
For hours in the desert, I'd drive for hours at a time.
But I was raised in middle England, not in Nashville Tennessee,
And the only person in this car is me.


And yes I'm in four-four time, and yes I use cheap cheap rhymes,
But I try to make a sound my own.
I know I don't break new ground, many have travelled this sound,
But I try to make it sound like home.


Well I've been to Texas state, I didn't think it was that fucking great,
And Nebraska is just a bunch of songs,
Holloway and Hampshire where I belong.
And I don't know anybody who plays pedal steel guitar,
All the city roads are twisted and I do not own a car.
I was raised in middle England, not in Nashville Tennessee,
And the only thing I'm offering is me.

Walgreens FAIL

posted by Jory on Wednesday, February 15, 2012 0 comments links to me
I forgot to include this yesterday. When I went to Walgreens to pick up a card for my niece, it was slim pickings. This was one of the few options. No joke.

Nice.

Happy Erg Valentine's Day

posted by Jory on Tuesday, February 14, 2012 0 comments links to me
Like I said yesterday, I'm not the biggest fan of Valentine's Day. It could possibly have something to do with the fact that my last serious relationship pretty much ended on V-Day. But to be honest, I never cared much for the holiday in the first place. I hate pink. And I don't like the idea of going out to a fancy, expensive dinner when the food will probably be rush-cooked and restaurant will be crowded anyway. Just stay in and be comfortable and do the night-out thing another time.

Also, Cupid just creeps me out. I mean, who really wants a fat naked baby shooting them with an arrow? Hello, ouch. And that Cupid baby is just going to grow up to be a pervert and a sociopath anyway. And he will most likely be afflicted with delusions of grandeur, thinking he can just fly around wearing nothing but a pair of wings and a quiver.

Nuh uh, not having it.

What I do always appreciate about V-Day, however, is my dad. My dad is my forever Valentine because he always gets me a ludicrous amount of chocolate. And he's also just a good dad in general. (I swear I'm not sucking up. He doesn't even know I keep a blog and wouldn't read it if he did.)

(that's me, fyi)
So, in honor of Valentine's Day, I thought I'd share a little blurb I wrote a few months ago after a writing prompt told me to. Mainly because I'm vain, and also because I just reread it today and still like it.

She touched the little box in her pocket and smiled. She knew she probably shouldn’t keep it. The right thing to do would be to put it back where she found it, which was in her step-sister’s second to bottom drawer. But she wasn’t interested in doing the right thing. Not this time. So she walked out of the house and turned the corner. Down the street she went, that little box along with her, until she reached her destination. The doors to the post office swung open and she stopped at the back of the line. She reached into her purse and found the slip of paper with the address scribbled on it. Her step-sister’s boyfriend’s address. Not her “local” boyfriend, who wrote her all the notes contained in that little box. No. The address was to her “real” boyfriend, the one she left back in Michigan with a promise to be faithful, who was about to be in for a rude awakening. Happy Valentine’s Day, sister dear. 


Also, here's a V-Day Haiku I wrote a few years ago that won a contest. 
My dear ex-boyfriend,
Thanks for dumping me before
You gave up showers.

 That is all. Have a great ahem holiday.

Mix Tape Monday: Home

posted by Jory on Monday, February 13, 2012 0 comments links to me
I'm not the biggest fan of Valentine's Day, but since it's officially in about an hour, here's a very sweet, romantic song that makes even my heart tingle a little. "Home" by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. Warning: It absolutely will be stuck in your head for hours.


I couldn't post the Official Video because embedding is disabled. But here's the link anyway, cause I'm cool like that: http://youtu.be/DHEOF_rcND8


"Home" by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros
Alabama, Arkansas, I do love my Ma & Pa
Not the way that I do love you


Holy Moley, Me-oh-My, you're the apple of my eye
Girl, I’ve never loved one like you


Man, oh man, you’re my best friend, 
I scream it to the nothingness
There ain’t nothin’ that I need


Well, hot & heavy, pumpkin pie, 
chocolate candy, Jesus Christ
There ain’t nothin’ please me more than you


Ahh, Home
Let me come Home
Home is wherever I’m with you (2x)


La la la la, take me Home
Baby, I’m coming Home


I’ll follow you into the park, 
through the jungle, through the dark
Girl, I’ve never loved one like you

Moats & boats & waterfalls, 
alley ways & pay phone calls
I’ve been everywhere with you

That’s true

We laugh until we think we’ll die, 
barefoot on a summer night
Nothin’ new is sweeter than with you


And in the streets we're running 
free like i's only you and mee
Geez, you’re somethin' to see.


Ahh, Home
Let me come Home
Home is wherever I’m with you (2x)


La la la la, take me HomeBaby, I’m coming Home


“Jade?”
“Alexander?”
“Do you remember that day you fell out of my window?”
“I sure do, you came jumping out after me.”
“Well, you fell on the concrete 
and nearly broke your ass 
and you were bleeding all over the place 
and I rushed you off to the hospital. 
Do you remember that?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Well, there’s something 
I never told you about that night.”
“What didn’t you tell me?”
“While you were sitting in the backseat 
smoking a cigarette you thought 
was going to be your last, 
I was falling deep, deeply in love with you
and I never told you ‘til just now.”
“Now I know.”


Ahh, Home
Let me come Home
Home is whenever I’m with you
Ahh, Home
Let me come Home
Home is when I’m alone with you 


Home
Let me come Home
Home is wherever I’m with you


Ahh, Home
Yes, I am Home
Home is when I’m alone with you.


Alabama, Arkansas, I do love my Ma & Pa
Moats & boats & waterfalls & pay phone calls


Ahh, Home
Let me come Home
Home is wherever I’m with you
Ahh, Home
Let me come Home
Home is when I’m alone with you

Frank Turner Friday: Try This At Home

posted by Jory on Friday, February 03, 2012 0 comments links to me

Try This At Home - Frank Turner
Let's inherit the earth, cause no one else is taking it,
Come on do your worst, before the moment's gone.
I'n bedrooms across England, and all the Western world,
There's posters and there's magazines,
The music isn't ours.

Cause we write love songs in E,
And we do politics in G
We sing songs about our friends in E minor.
So turn out the stars now and take up your guitar,
And come on folks and try this at home.

Let's stop waiting around, for someone to patronise us,
Let?s hammer out a sound that speaks of where we?ve been.
Forget about the haircuts, the stupid skinny jeans,
the stampedes and the irony, the media-fed scenes

Cause we write love songs in E,
And we do politics in G
We sing songs about our friends in E minor.
So turn out the stars now and take up your guitar,
And come on folks and try this at home.

Because the only thing that punk rock should ever really mean
is not sitting round and waiting for the lights to go green,
and not thinking that you?re better because you?re stood up on a stage.
If you?re oh so fucking different then who cares what you have to say?

And there?s no such thing as rock stars, there?s just people who play music,
and some of them are just like us, and some of them are dicks.
So quick, turn off your stereo, pick up that pen and paper,
you could do much better than some half-arsed skinny English country singer
 
 

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