Im still loving Adore breaking the 4th wall.
This + her Anna Nicole Smith is the moment when I definitively fell in love with Adore.
‘Oui-oui (A Canadian in Paris)’ by Pulsallama is my new jam.
My Novel Writing Diary - Volume 4 - Saturday, March 22, 2014
I talk about writing from the periphery and facing rejection; about building up your writing confidence and “Genius is Patience”; and the effects of Flaubert’s writing when he tells one long joke about romance.
Words Written: 13,291 total (approximately 2,600 this week).
Novel: Madame Bovary by Flaubert.
‘Get Dancin’’ by Disco Tex & The Sex-O-Lettes is my new jam.
My Novel Writing Diary - Volume 3 - Thursday, March 13, 2014
I talk about having too many ideas, about trying to be avant-garde, and about the pathetic and the ironic.
even if u dont like miley cyrus u kinda do like miley cyrus
‘Hold On’ by Duke Dumont feat. MNEK is my new jam.
Pet Shop Boys remix Irish drag queen Panti Bliss’s speech about homophobia into a dance track. See the original speech here.
‘MYB’ by Oliver
Slink and funk.
Katy B - “Crying for No Reason”
There are so many reasons why I like this song, so I won’t say anything more.
I’ve figured out what I wanted to say.
When you first watch this video/listen to this song, you could think: oh, just another ballad. After all, Katy looks demure and sad; she’s alone on a stage, singing her heart out, her voice girlish. Haven’t we seen this before? Her singing is strong, but it seems cold, somehow. Some people have compared this song to Adele, but unlike Adele, Katy doesn’t milk individual notes for heightened emotional impact. She sounds overwhelmed by the song and accompaniment: the video emphasizes this by shrinking her to a red dot.
There do seem to be some false steps. You notice them first in her appearance. She has big earrings that sneak out from under her hair, and pointed fingernails, and, you look closer, leather pants? And there’s the issue of the way she says “to you” as “tuh yoo.” Maybe she’s not such a demure little girl; maybe she’s actually a tough girl playing a demure one? Katy’s outfit is a sly nod to this: she’s dressed like Sandy from Grease, both before and after her rebel conversion.
But it’s also been in the song, all along. Katy doesn’t milk her syllables because she doesn’t have time. Her up-down melody line is speeding along - relative to a standard ballad - and she has a lot to get out. This is a melody line from R n B and popularized by Beyonce: fast, multisyllabic lines that jitter up and down to show off a vocalist’s ability to enunciate while riding the beat. But even Beyonce doesn’t usually use these lines in ballads; she sticks to the Adele/classic rock model for songs like “If I Were a Boy.” Katy splits the difference in “Crying for No Reason.” She follows her disco beat and doesn’t work in a bounce, but her vocals are pushed along by the insistent chug of the synths. She’s sad, and she wants to sing a ballad, but she expresses it in her natural tough-girl language of dance clubs and hip-hop radio.
Driven so hard by the beat, her vocals build kinetic energy throughout the track. Katy doesn’t get a moment to release this tension - there is simply no time, and the accompaniment seems to rise just as she’s about to do it. Instead, she can only get louder as she repeats the thoughts that seem to race through her mind. The track is claustrophobic: only the reverb on some drum hits gives you the feeling for room to breathe. But at the end, when her vocals drop away, and we are given some room, we are left feeling her absence. There was something about that tension that makes us miss it.
After all, what is she singing about? She’s not singing about a boy hurting her or any of love’s other disappointments: she’s singing about hurting someone else. “Cause I never faced all of the pain I caused,” she sings, (with a neat bookend of “cause”) “now the pain is hitting me full force.” The tension that overlays the song is mirrored in the lyrics, where she wants to appear normal (“How can I walk with a smile? Get on with my day”) while fighting the guilt she feels. “There must be some way out,” she sings, knowing that, in this song, there isn’t much of one. That little tough girl, playing demure, asks someone, no one: “Will you forgive me now?” But all she’s left for an answer is the ringing beat of a disco drum.