Apr 26, 2018
“I just want you like you like me. Like I like you like you wreck me. I just want you like you hate me.”
cllctyrslf - like you hate me
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“I just want you like you like me. Like I like you like you wreck me. I just want you like you hate me.”
cllctyrslf - like you hate me
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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The person I was would never stand for this The person I’m now craves a permanence The blind devotion to a way of living A scared subscription to a new religion
I MADE THIS MEME ABOUT JACK SENFF IN A MIDWEST EMO FACEBOOK GROUP I'M IN AND JACK HIMSELF SHARED IT ON HIS INSTAGRAM
❤️💔❤️🥀🌷🥀
BOY REX FACES A FAR-AWAY PRESENT
BOY REX: LIVE! FROM THE FAR-AWAY
Rainy window afternoon tunes FFO: Owen, Death Cab for Cutie, Into It. Over It.
Live! from the Far-Away by Boy Rex
It’s hard to talk about Boy Rex without talking about other bands. Jack Senff, the songwriter behind the Michigan group, has a history. Before creating somber, acoustic guitar-based indie rock with deliberately lush arrangements under this name, Senff spent his teenage years creating the kind of passionately raw music that spurred think-pieces on the emo revival. But here on its third album, Boy Rex comes live and far away from that past. Senff’s writing adamantly takes place in the present while the larger picture, however, almost always returns to the past or the future.
While Senff’s youth has frozen in an internet time capsule, he’s travelled to a relatively distant land musically. It’s a miracle his voice survived the screaming, but it’s made it here with a tender delivery. He sings and speaks not quite slowly but in no way rushed, as if he’s considering his phrasing carefully—much removed from previous habits of pouring unmixed feeling out and smearing it around the canvas into a rough image still raw with its individual parts. Boy Rex intentionally takes different strokes, thoughtfully blending its palette into well-balanced compositions. The Michigan band plays with a daydreaming whimsy, as if living life with a lightweight optimism that Senff’s teenage years never chose over heavier baggage. The songs take root in plucked nylon-string guitar with eclectic indie rock arrangements encircling his words in piano, synths, and echoing guitars. His musical direction has similarities to Mike Kinsella’s route after his own emo years in American Football gave way to a softer side with Owen. Boy Rex plays less into emo and math rock tendencies, but still has occasional bouts with abrupt rhythmic surprises and maintains an open-ended sense of harmony that plays well into the dreaminess of melancholic indie.
Despite holding little connection to Senff’s musical past, Live! from the Far-Away spends a great deal of time talking explicitly of his life as a musician. The lyrics plot how to sell the most merch or escape the venue on time while frequently returning to thoughts of making it, almost obsessively. The Far-Away is littered with dreams of playing bigger venues (“Golden Standard”), critiques of a town that failed him—or at least the time in his life it represents (“Olympia”), and the possibility of a sudden end to his career (“Way, Way Up”). I don’t know if Senff wants to forget his past, forget those bands, and forget the way it made people feel. I don’t think he does. But I don’t think he wants to live in the shadow of his teenage emotional expression. Still, the songwriting here is well aware of the realities of expectations, both his own and his listeners’. The topic is less about his identity than it is about his legacy, constantly pondering Senff’s past relationships and future impact. The title rings harrowingly true: Boy Rex’s here and now is living in a time that’s far-away. He roughly puts this into words on the closing track, “True Believers”: “when you look at me and my eyes are glazed, I’m coming at you live from the far-away.” –CC
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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“Two years ago you told me to follow what I feel, to chase after the abstract instead of what was real. But instead of finding summit I fell down the goddamn mountain. Then it was back to climbing, dogs together, always counting mile marker posts in the grass, in the snow. Now here we are, we made it up, but can I believe in you?”
Hey Moonlight, keep shining I know I've been hiding Hey Moonlight, keep shining I know I've been hiding But one of these days I'll come back out I'll tell you what it's all about But one of these days I'll come back out I'll tell you what it's all about Hey Moonlight, be patient I've got fears and I'll face them Hey Moonlight, be patient I've got fears and I'll face them But it's harder than I thought it'd be Won't you have a little faith in me? But it's harder than I thought it'd be Won't you have a little faith in me?
This morning I sent a postcard to the left side of the world. It said, "I'm thinking about you," and, "I hope you're well." It's crazy to think I thought I could fall in love with someone other than my best friend. The one I love. I've been gone a long time looking for the right sign, something that could validate this mess I've made. Spilled my guts out, threw my heart up, and all I've got to show is a postcard. I put pressure on empty gestures to fill the void with purpose and pleasures, to pull it together, but I just can't keep up... Somewhere across town there's a boy having his first drink with the guys. I wonder if he's nervous what I'll think now that he's not like me. But then again I'm not like me. I'm someone else. I'm "in between." It's crazy to think I thought I could fall in love with someone new... Elsewhere I'm stumbling down an alley, alone. I'm tired, so tired, I just want to come home.
