Swim Team Philosphers

8tracks is Radio, rediscovered - my emo phrasebook (47min) by allcatsaregrey| music tags: emo, midwest emo, slowcore, sadcore, and indie rock | A collection of more slow-paced indie/emo songs.

8tracks is Radio, rediscovered - loneliness is okay (31min) by emilylove| music tags: lonely, i love you, <3, and for johannes | these are songs that filled my January.

aw so cute and awesome and badass.

Warpaint is not only how all girl friendships wish they were (look at them bobbing their heads together), but also beautiful music, in a pure “let’s make good music” way. This video shows a more behind-the-scenes process, which excites me so so much.

There was a moment when I realized there was more, more in the world, more to life, more music on the earth than Umbrella by Rihanna (imagine if there wasn't). In fact, I remember listening to the song on my dial-controlled radio, in the summer before seventh grade in an attempt to understand pop culture. The little girl I was, cursed with braces and glasses when they weren't even hip yet, was just trying to consume everything that seemed to coincide with the consumer culture of an affluent suburban area. I also futilely browsed through clothing at Abercrombie and Fitch. But music was just simply a more equalitarian ground for catching up, it didn’t cost 40 bucks to fit in that way.

The summer of 2008, my parents sent me to a Christian sleep-away camp. I had the raddest counselor, with a nose piercing, wild curly hair, and really artsy-crafty decorations for our room. She bought us all composition books and brought all her magazines for us to cut up and make collages. She was also always playing this music, that sounded kind of strange. The first time I heard it, I looked at my roommate and asked her, “Do you know what this music is?”

She said, “No, people from where I come from don’t listen to this.”

She’s from North Florida. And she may or may not have said those exact words. But I definitely remember us thinking that these camp counselors were strange creatures of another world… cool older kids who did things in their life, such as collages, and danced to other music, that I found remarkably different. I realize how normal, and even dull, it sounds now to my ears.  What’s left are the memories.

This album is Viva la Vida or Death and All His Friends by Coldplay.

Life in Technicolor: I remember using this song in a homemade video for a school project the next fall. In the video, my best friend and I frolicked around in umbrellas on double-speed, as we ate leaves and pretended that the woods of Georgia were magical. My first directorial pursuit. I used this song to call up the more beautiful memories of the summer, of unrequited love, of friendship, and of awkward middle school feelings.

 The slow increase in the beginning and the build-up of sound up to the main guitar riff evoke a film-like quality. I imagine curtains being slowly pulled open, a montage out of a train window before the dreamer starts daydreaming, or one of those time-lapse clips of New York City. I know it’s in bad taste to call something Apple Commercial quality music, but this is it. It’s a bit heart-wrenching, inspiring, uplifting, and not too experimental. I love it.

Cemeteries of London: This song seemed to be proof to me that Coldplay was Christian. They sang about God, goddammit! Nope, they aren’t, actually. They’re a British rock band, quoth Wikipedia. I like the la-la-la’s.

Lost!: This is my favorite song on the album. There’s the stomp-stomp-clap-stomp-stomple-clap, starting at the very beginning, that gets me automatically swaying. I just really loved the lines, where Chris Martin says, “You might be a big fish in a little pond/ Doesn't mean you've won/ 'Cause along may come a bigger one.” And then boom, guitar solo. How dramatic is that? The prominent organ sounds, constant percussion, and the soprano-heavy airy chorus highlight the “don’t stop believing, you’re not finished yet!” message of the song, but the other message, “don’t get in over your head, kid,” is in the underfold of the song, in its minor chord progression in the verses.

      42: This song floated through the cabins in the sleepy hours of three P.M. I sat on my top bunk and wrote in my journal about my half-encounters with my crush, Jonathan. He wore a turquoise cap with a panda on it. He was tall and he seemed like such a thoughtful jock. I most probably scribbled, “Jonathan looked at me with such thoughtful eyes today. What if he loves me? Do you think we’ll get married, God?” The beginning of the song made me think I was in for a good journaling session, but as the more energetic electric guitar comes in, I threw aside any mawkish attempts at transcribing my pubescent angst.

  Lovers in Japan/Reign of Love: So pop, so danceable at first, but after the chorus comes in, the entire song switches pace to more sweeping guitar sounds and more crunch. Not many layers to this song, but it’s an easy listen that you can pop your shoulders up and down to. (but maybe only once or twice, the more you hear it, the less danceable it gets)

  I don’t remember Reign of Love at all from the past. I don’t think there’s much to remember of it.

  Yes/Chinese Sleep Chant: Is it mean to say that Chris Martin’s voice destroyed this song? He’s straining his voice too much to sound like Lou Reed. I love the beginning. I totally want to smoke up to this.

  We’ve also reached the middle of the album. Chinese Sleep Chant is the closest to any shoegaze that Coldplay gets. The song goes by quickly without any graze on emotionality.

  Viva la Vida: Oh yes, we’ve reached radio song of 2009, retired and living in a senior home with all its trophies and accolades. I’ll say this is the song that ruined Coldplay. I haven’t proactively listened to a single song that came out after this album. You may call that the first onset of hipsterdom for me, that I felt betrayed by the commercialization of a song that I felt was important to me. I couldn’t stand it that the song that epitomized my summer with Jonathan, and I dare say, self-discovery was splayed all over the radio for everyone to hear. And everyone did hear it. Did they feel the same reminiscence for basketball games, where I purposely tried to score the most goals for his attention and then ended up injuring a boy two years younger than me on the other team?? Did they also feel nostalgic embarrassment at bangs awkwardly plastered onto my face with sweat and ill-fitting graphic shirts from Old Navy? No. Bye, Coldplay.

  Violet Hill: Some songs you haven’t listened to years, but once you get caught up with the intro, you can sing every lyric. How do I still know these lyrics?

              If you love me, why’d you let me go!

  Exactly. Why? I bang head along with the guitar riffs and I weep for the ending summer camp. I played with the church band, and that was fun. I met cool girls from North Florida. I vowed to become like my camp counselor with her mane of hair and clunky jewelry. But I was mostly concerned about Jonathan, and all my thoughts revolved around marrying him and moving to Charlotte and having cute interracial babies. And wait – it wasn’t a problem that we had never talked yet. God did say, “Ask and you will receive.” Just don’t let me go, Jonathan!

  Strawberry Swing: I’d say this is my favorite song nowadays from this album. I didn’t particularly like this song before, but it’s a good song for a car ride sometimes. I like the crooning at the end with the main guitar riff in the background. Again, I feel like I’m the centerpiece of an Apple commercial. I probably just used my smartphone to skype my boyfriend across the world. That thought makes me happy.

  Death and All His Friends/ The Escapist: Last weekend of summer camp. I prayed to God to give me a sign if I was meant to be together forever with J. If there were pancakes for breakfast the next day, that would be God’s sign. So the entire night, I worried and wrestled with the thought of there being no pancakes. No, really, Emily, think about this, the only thing left to serve for breakfast IS pancakes. I woke up in peace, feeling that if it was meant to be it would happen. (That’s perhaps how contestants for reality TV competition shows nowadays feel). I walked to the cafeteria through the door and picked up my plate. I walked down the line for breakfast,  and what was there? Sitting in a silver buffet server, shaded in the color of flour and eggs, warm and sweet, Lo and behold, … waffles. I didn’t curse then, but if I did, SHIT WHY GOD, THIS IS FUCKING NOT COOL okay yeah.

  Life of Technicolor pixie-like sounds usher me out of the album. There are weird nasally sounds. I almost want to rewind the CD and jump back to commercially-packaged good feels. Summer camp is over. The last day, I wait for my mom to pick me and my brother up. For breakfast, there are pancakes. 

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