prismaticbleed | 23 songs in 2023 (Reply)

browsing through ANCIENT entries earlier today, I saw this little survey:

YOU CAN TELL A LOT ABOUT SOMEONE BY THE TYPE OF MUSIC THEY LISTEN TO.
HIT SHUFFLE ON YOUR MEDIA LIBRARY AND WRITE DOWN THE FIRST 20 SONGS. (23 for the new year)
ONE RULE: NO SKIPPING.

We haven't done something like this in a while, but the love & memories tied to our music are enough to break through the bleakest days. Let's go.

1. "Vertigo" (U2)
U2's music takes us to a very unusually bright place in our collective memory. Our dad introduced us to them during the jx7 time period, so their tunes are forever painted with that Celebi-summer feeling, driving down highways and finally being free of all social/online connections for the first time in years. It was liberating, and that vibe is what I still catch in this song. Blue skies and a wide-open future. Plus, we always smile at that "uno! dos! tres! catorce!" intro.
...Never actually read the lyrics for this before, though. Feels dystopic. Feels sadly like old headspace days. I guess that's ironically fitting, too-- because even during the upbeat time of our life this song echoes, there was something terrible happening where we couldn't, or refused to, see... everything we wish we didn't know, if you will.

2. "Pororororororo" (IMERUAT)
An unexpectedly heartwarming song. At first the lyrics sound childlike and silly, but the lovely string section suggests something more... so I looked it up, and it's about sharing a meal together. Yes, a triggering topic for us, but... only due to sad experiences. "Let's enjoy our meal, even if we eat alone." Our whole life we were taught that "enjoying" things, especially food, was not only sinful but animalistic, and utterly depraved. Family meals were stressful and rushed and angry as they were rare. We never ate with others in school, and eating in public with the family was always highly distressing and full of fear. So... there's something in this song that makes our inner child want to weep and angrily beat their fists off the wall, bitter and offended and upset, but... there's also something in it that our adult self wants to agree with. We think of Jesus feeding His followers, and of how kids (ideally) naturally share their food with friends. It's an instinctive "I care about you and want you to stay alive" action.
It's a song we do need to think about more, actually. It helps that it's so cute.

3. "Plush Hooves" (Picnic)
This is a song that we discovered recently, but which sounds just like the old "influtusa" days. College.
It's audial beauty, really. The colors and shapes are really nice-- all clear watery arches and round waves of bluish green with pops of crackling pale-yellow brushstrokes. It feels like liquid crystal pipes. It's deeply soothing.
We actually, deep down, love atmospheric glitch-esque stuff like this. It's tied inextricably to a facet of the Cor(e) and although it's been buried, it cannot be denied. This is the crystal-eyed White that exists outside of space, outside of form, and right now, we need that desperately.
It helps that it's 7 minutes long. You can get softly lost in this sort of soundscape, and thank God for that.

4. "Kamome" (Taku Matsushiba)
Despite the unfortunate album art-- and the fact that we've never seen this anime and don't plan to-- there are some tracks on its OST that are really lovely. This is one of them. I like the music-box intro that is suddenly embraced by that string section cascade! Honestly though... we love this track because it sounds like our old violin-lesson refuge. The solo starting at 1:21 sounds like Lynne's heart.
There's a deep sense of safety, of comfort, of peace, that we get from hearing stringed instruments and pianos layered warm and deep like this. It makes us feel like a child again, alone in that big store surrounded by musical instruments, by wood and metal and glass and paper, hearing muffled melodies from upstairs, seeing the rain outside... again, we would be totally alone, just us and the League's heart, with infinite potential and creative beauty all around us. Those memories are precious, and we treasure them. We are grateful that we can still re-live them so strongly through songs like this.

5. "11 Hands" (Alfonso Peduto)
A brand new addition to our library, Alfonso's layered piano loops are exactly the sort & sound of thing we would compose if we had the means. We love the rhythmic complexity, the evocative harmonies, and the sense of... what? Finality? Hope? These songs all sound like the verge of some great turning point, some shift in the heart, some painful tearful courageous reach towards victory, towards light.
There are albums full of wonderful pieces like this by him. Each one feels unique. This one, with its higher notes and almost waltz-like lilt at times, is less driving and more aspirational to me. It feels like daylight rushing through treetops, like a sudden rainfall through breaking clouds, like a determination in your soul to get up, to not give up, to turn your face to the sky and the sun no matter what happens next.
It feels like someone in the System. I'm not sure who. A girl, maybe a Jewel. But the resonance is there. It's inevitable, with how closely this guy's compositions resemble our soul.

6. "Missa Festiva, Op. 62: Gloria" (Flor Peeters)
We love listening to different Mass settings, especially the more unique orchestral ones. The Gloria is always interesting to hear, because of the many different emotions it elicits-- this song moves from the dissonant notes of penitence to the soaring golden chords of praise, the whole time feeling strangely alien, angelic even, with trumpeted edges and that organ rumbling true beneath it all.
It's always fascinating to listen to choral pieces, too-- the human voice is an instrument in its own right, and each voice pronounces words slightly differently, as well as with a different pitch and tone. Listening to them all marbling together in these pieces, some more notable than others, some ringing out as solos, but all part of some greater whole... its fascinating. These are living souls making that music with their own selves. Within the context of this hymn to their Creator... it's a transcendent experience.

7. "Çok Özlüyorum Seni" (Gökhan Tepe)
I literally went "YESSSSSS" when this came up on shuffle, haha! For all you Moralimon fans, this is legit Nebisai's song, because it sounds like him, not just in voice but also in tone-- it's a bright & upbeat song, but it's about heartbreak... and hope. "I miss you so much." But "I know you will be back soon... I saw it in my dream last night." Nebsy is one of the most ebullient 'mons I know and yet he hails from a very tormented world... he has experienced war and loss and despair and exile, and yet! He still sings! He still holds on to hope! And I love that about both him, and this song. When you're hurting, but you can still make music like this, about that ache... that means a lot, man. It shows that love is what is shining through at the heart of it all, not bitterness.
Also the percussion is DELICIOUS. I love Turkish instrumentation, especially in this, with the overlapping rhythms and clear treble chordophones and that dancing bassline! Even the wind instruments are lovely, haha, and that's notable coming from me!
Gosh I just love this song. Turkish music is boss, God bless these guys.

8. "The First Noel" (Kenny G)
THERE YOU ARE SAXOPHONE MAN!! This guy's Christmas albums are eternal tradition in our house for the Christmas season; our birthmom used to joke "it's not Christmas until we have candles & Kenny G!" Sadly, we did not have either of those things this year... but what the heck, it's not Epiphany yet, better late than never!
Really, his instrumentation is fantastic as well. That soprano saxophone meshes so smoothly with the bell-like keyboard (which is notable; I usually can't stand obviously electronic keyboards), the subtle but silver strings, and of course that echoing percussion that makes the whole song sound wide and clear and bright as that field the ancient shepherds met the jubilant angels in. Even so... this song also sounds so small and cozy. Maybe that's just childhood memories, or the 90's mixing, but this whole album just makes me feel like a kid again, watching the snowfall by the Christmas tree, colorful lights everywhere and the scent of pine and cinnamon in the air. Oh yeah, and of course the saxophone carols on mom's boombox.
Shoutout to Leon with this song, haha. I love you bro.

9. "Castles- 12" Full Length Version" (It Bites)
PROG ROCK SON!!!
It Bites will always have a very, very dear place in my heart because I first discovered them the week I was first admitted to the psych ward. I had "This Is England" playing in my head for those five hellish days, and I swear to you that was the only thing that kept me going some nights, unable to sleep, terrified of the next day. But I'd hear John Mitchell singing in those dark hours and it reminded me that there was still beauty in the world, out beyond those barred double-pane windows. This wasn't forever.
However! My good man John was only 14 or so when this track was released so his trademark voice isn't on here, haha. But Francis Dunnery has a lovely set of pipes as well, honestly.
And... in beautiful contrast to the windows of the ward, this song speaks of a castle with no such cruel fortifications--

10. "Emily" (Andy Williams)
Andy Williams's voice echoes through all my childhood memories. My grandmother loved his music, and would frequently play it at night as I fell asleep.
I honestly love the way he pronounces certain words and vowels, and
This song has no memories in particular attached to it, but it does have a tie-in to the League. The "romance" of this song was totally defused by attaching it to Emily in Soulstitch, and her plush pal Kenzel-- turning the reference to "family" from a marital cliche into a childhood comfort. Love isn't just for grownups; the truest lovers are those who love without any motives of gain or attraction. It's why the League focuses on such children, and their relationships with creatures who likewise love with such purity of intent.
It's the only way I can listen to this song, by thinking of that.

11. "I Believe, Help My Unbelief" (Larnelle Harris)
Larnelle's music means a great deal to me, because I played it on loop for months when I was taking care of my grandmother in home hospice. I'd do dishes and laundry and cooking for her and the whole time Mr. Harris would be praising God in the background. It kept my heart and mind in a good place, anchored in faith and hope, which I desperately needed during that time of sickness and stress.
This song, based on Mark 9:24, means a lot to me as well. I have always loved that Gospel, for the raw desperate honesty of that man in his weak yet real faith... and because I relate so, so strongly to that sentiment.

12. "The Man That Time Forgot" (Ed Harcourt)
This song always brings me to tears.

13. "Some Children See Him" (Andy Williams)
I'm really glad this one came up because, although Kenny is my mom's Christmas tune dude, Andy is my grandmother's playlist staple.

14. "Be Here Now" (Ray LaMontagne)
This song belongs to Dori. It was one from her Last.fm back in like '09, and it struck us to the heart in both sound and message.
The instrumentation feels like a bright fog, with the echoing piano & vocals, and smooth strings singing over that soundhaze backdrop. But then there's the guitar. Golden and clear, it's like sunlight filtering through the morning mist. The lyrics reflect this tangible hope.
"Don't let your mind get weary... don't let your heart get heavy... don't let your soul get lonely..." and then, "don't look for love in faces [or] places; it's in you, that's where you'll find kindness. Be here, now."
It speaks directly to us as a System.
...How many times have I tried to run away from us? How often has my weary mind, or heavy heart, made my soul feel lonely? Inside of "me" there is us, a strength founded in love, a love that tears down every wall. But I have to be here. I have to BE, with us, with all of us, right now. It's the only hope I have of holding on to faith or light or life. Our collective being is a ray of light piercing every cloud, and outlasting every trial.
I needed to hear this song again today. Thank You.

15. "This River Is Wild" (The Killers)
This is an old one, from Jewel's high school days, when her Red slowly started to turn into Cannon's edge.
The lyrics cut us pretty deep It speaks directly of the trauma echoes and struggles we were just beginning to battle at that time.
"Or should I just get along with myself? I never did get along with everybody else. I've been trying hard to do what's right, but you know I could stay here all night..." I swear we must have quoted this in a Blurty once, long ago.
We still don't get along with anyone but ourselves, sadly. It's notsomuch misanthropy (although we are becoming disturbingly aware of a lot of pent-up damaged rage lately) as it is feeling alien. Every day we struggle to do "what's right," but... we're up until 5am just typing. Just getting lost in our head. It's the only place where we feel accepted, real, alive... but it's a wild river. There's so much turbulence. But it's water, man. It's life.
The stormy guitars and rushing percussion, along with the Brandon Flower's signature vocals-- subtly high-strung, a little shaky, and sounding like a confession-- make this song feel like last words in a way, to us. There's a finality to it, something hard but hurt, spitting splinters and being brutally direct-- here's the shit I see in the world, but it's in me first. I only recognize it because I'm fighting it tooth and nail inside, every hour.
The outro always brings us to tears for some reason. That last line, the way everything crumples into a keyboard and his wavering voice, just... hurts, after that shout of a song. It hurts like having only a thread of hope left in that dark night, surrounded by people and noise but alone, and never able to be a part of it. At least, to us.

16. "Jupiter" (Sleeping At Last)
A short song, but the lyrics break me in half.
"I don't know who I am, but now I know who I'm not."
Make my messes matter. Make this chaos count. Let every little fracture in me shatter out loud.

17. "The Way We Were (Soundtrack Version)" (Barbara Streisand)
This one speaks to our constant haunting of time, of how dearly we miss what we've lost, and yet...
"Can it be that it was all so simple then? Or has time re-written every line?
If we had the chance to do it all again, tell me, would we? Could we?"
What's too painful to remember, we simply choose to forget... trauma does work like that, sadly.
Ironically, we don't remember the laughter. What stands out the strongest is the pain.
But... this song makes us think. Why don't we remember the positive things more? Why don't we focus on our joy as "the way we were?" It's a thought.

18. "Hurts" (Mika)
Well this is just friendship trauma from beginning to end.
"You say it's only words, and that it will get easier with time. Nothing's only words; that's how hearts get hurt. I can't, I can't, I can't stop hearing all the words you said..."
Both we and they treated words-- or the lack thereof-- as careless weapons, to be honest.
This wasn't verbal abuse. This was phrases, comments, snippets of conversation that gutted us in different ways, that still repeat between our ears, words that they probably never realized would damage us so badly.
But... words are what made us into "strangers by the end," when we would leave. The words we wrote, the words they spoke, all ultimately destroyed what feeble friendships we had.
Oh of course, the actions were horrible too. But they only happened BECAUSE of words, words disrespected and forced and parroted and flatly delivered, words like arrows and daggers. Talking our way into and out of trouble. Always too much talk.
Sorry. Can't think about this too much.

19. "Hard to Beat" (Hard-Fi)
YEAAAAAAAH this one's a CLASSIC.
It's in here because it's a "League lovesong" from like 2005. OLD DAYS BRO.

20. "Tempest" (SOHN)
Geez this band sounds like the Cannon days. It's disturbing and dark and red.
This song is so disjointed. It reads like an unhinged entry of ours.
"O Lord, I got lost along the way You set for me. I got to say I'm sorry; wash my sins away..."
but then there's the catch. "I love her like no other."
And if this is truly the Cannon days, then we are absolutely dealing with moral panic and homophobia.

21. "Am I Dreamin'" (Atlantic Starr)
On the surface this is obviously a love song that I can easily apply to any of my internal loves, but... on a greater level, this is for the entire System.
"Am I dreaming? Am I just imagining you're here in my life?"
Self-doubt hurts like hell, especially when you love the very souls that everyone else says don't exist.

22. "Towerblock" (FROST*)
This song hits hard, now that our old house really is being “torn down,” or at least, torn up.