even now,//I Am Whatever Needs To BE

Santogold - Icarus
what delightful strings. a song to brush your hair to, a melody to tie back your hair and let your neck feel the winter bite, a beat to strut melancholy down from your apartment into a boyfriend's car; a song to waste your day. from a mixtape with diplo, a producer i don't normally approve of (except for that beatles remix), but if he chaperoned this track, then i give him credit. its haunting.

Radiohead - Kinetic
sounds of a haunted basement hosting a drug party, keep your needles to yourself but pass the papers on the left and dip when you think you can feel reality. static and erratic drums to keep your head loose, and a voice to tether the veins tight enough 'till you can feel the squeeze that beats blood faster as your heart races, picks up and chases a nerve tickle but loses itself when you see spots, so many spots your eyes can't focus and then you can only lay your head down before the floor breaks above the ceiling and your windows are stuck closed.

Animal Collective - Runnin The Round Ball
a very old animal collective track. beat heavy, collision music. fast paced, urgent, confusing, persuasive. i can imagine a rapper on acid over this track, maybe a poet on shrooms, maybe an old friend with a cigarette slowly reciting the monologue to a movie he never wrote.

Flying Lotus - RobertaFlack (Martyn's Heart Beat Mix)
finally, a track that makes sense. sexy and soulful, raise your head, use your feet, and dance under this basement light as it flickers in unison. keep your hands at her side, move your hips in time, and keep your lips barely an inch away from her face. keep your eyes down, let her hands ride up, and keep her waist close. when you start to sweat, and she starts to stare, and the beat starts to drop, and the static comes to a swell, and the melody silences the room, and the clicks induce a head-bopping trance, and the ceiling seems to fall, and the others seem to disappear, and the windows seem to crack, and the air seems so tight, and the moment has almost escaped, and she


a hole to drift down
and bounce off the waterfall walls
we break ourselves again
when it is easier to let everyone else win
when it is easier to indulge and let it win
as it is here and a promise is only a series of words
the fall is suffocating
but these walls are illuminating
a stretched hand to touch the stream
a breaking wave that crashed across
a beach of dreams and yesterdays,
tonight drink wine and think of me.

"on our way home, we spoke of many things..."
YOU speak of so little, you speak of so much
I speak so suggestively, i speak so reserved,
we take minutes and turn them into months,
take oceans and turn them into walls,
and throw arrows at the sky to watch them fly,
a murder above us, fall into our eyes,
and we see which path we should take
but ignore the signs and keep walking straight
into our separate homes, with separate beds,
but the same sheets, those clouded white linens
we've let witness those nights
when the above was below and a shower brought release
after release had brought us home.

to always wonder
to always dream
to always dance
we play this silly game

- tgrs

//photos by pdhw\\

Let Sunshine Weep// parce que la pluie peut danser genitment

Bon Iver - Woods
imogen heap and fleet foxes with rustic soul. vocals effected from a heart affected by the touch of a wintry dream. i believe in heaven, and i believe in loneliness, and i certainly believe in happiness. i also believe that this song is all three incarnate.

Ruby Weapon Mono - #1 (Animal Collective Cover)
haunting rendition. check out their covers. and a little early christmas present for those as eager as i am for the new album. these melodies beat the beach boys; i challenge you to tell me otherwise after listening to merriweather post pavilion.

there is little to inspire me anymore
but i have hopes for a mountain winter
and warmth in tapes

i am in love with nothing
yet everyone looks so beautiful
and charming still

if my fears are kept in check
steadied as steady my hands
then this disease will die hungry

for i will not let it live full
on my imagination
and what soul i have saved so far.

- tgrs

Charming//even the leaves have all changed

Magnetic Morning - At A Crossroads, Passive
it starts off like a cheesy radio rock song, but something keeps my attention, and at the end, it pays off with bond strings and sludge feedback to an immense second movement that must encourage listeners to throw aside passivity. or not. some are bound to pretend apathy, and, if not discouraged, will suffer quietly until a very old age. wrinkles and arthritis. you'll care then.

Banjo or Freakout - 72 (Everything Fast)
i find haunting music a good listen. especially an empty beach house is covered in grey from impending showers, the air is thick, and the lights are low with the speakers loud. i can imagine alessio recording this in his bedroom, in the same conditions as i listen. i think you can hear a ghost sigh on this track.

Chungking - Angel Eyes
there is nothing i do not love about this track. another selection with a subtle bond impression (not that i'm trying to force quantum of solace on anyone, i haven't seen it yet and i'm in no rush to) with a sexy string arrangement backing the voice of a woman, soul bared at the back of a basement club. i bet she writes poetry, and smokes light cigarrettes, and only enjoys walks alone under a light drizzle. i'm also quite sure she lives in paris, but my imagination has been wrong before.

Bent - As Seen From Space
this is just to help those troubled relax, those eager calm, those stubborn embrace, those helpless survive, those quiet engage, those difficult ease, those fake reveal, those hate love, those alone...feel together, with nothing, and everything, and that something only shadows of memories can promise. close your eyes, please, and let the shaking finally stop.

too little time was spent where it should have been
i could compose the ages if the ages waited
or time should leave itself for me to take
and i would create a song for each of you
a melody to sing, a line to read, a note to hum
something to show i am grateful, and that i care,
that i have never forgotten how important you are
and how much i need each and every one of you.

february 2009

and i am heartbroken because of you
what stings of secret truth
and abandoned patience
be careful with where that tongue speaks,
soon the audience of few will crumble to none.

- tgrs

//photo by phw \\

shaken like a handful of diamonds//In Twilight Or Sunset Time

Gnarls Barkley - Who's Gonna Save My Soul? (Demo Version)
it's amazing how simple a melody from a stranger's song can echo exactly how you would sing if your throat were gold, if courage were free, if hope were saved. with a clav and subdued drum machine, this demo breaks down and cries for itself, lamenting the beauty of a break up before it can cherish the charm of a relationship past.

The Secret Machines
- Breathe
a short punk song about love, written with smoke in the air. fresh from a gun, or fresh from lungs, vapor heavy and intensely blue, the machines knock out this b-side with enough attitude to propel their garage sound into the hearts of every first-kissers with ears enough to hear the rock of tongue-locked kiss.

Philip Glass - Mad Rush
and finally, when the wings close and the wheels touch, you land in another world with another set of eyes and another mask to wear, another closed heart closed off from people known and knowing people, to keep what self is left inside the self you've kept. bring smiles with your fake teeth, bring a wink for her heels, and bring a hug for the arms you've loved. keep the music the loud, the eyes shut, the windows down, and drive, drive, drive, drive, drive, drive until you reach the autumn coast.

I have very little to offer right now
but I hope to change the world at some point
maybe when the caffeine kicks in
or my ears strengthen
then the paintings my speakers cast
the moments my fingers grasp
the love we hope to last
the breath we share and gasp
the songs sketched with crayons past
and prayers we answer with glances fast
or ninja fail, so failed we fall,
into twilight thrown our feet will rise
and dance on floors where summertime
breaks winter's freeze and the chilling kind,
a moonlit shine for two lover's crime,
a second chance for a third attempt
to discover what rain was left
when the clouds soared by and I soared to fly
across the twilight into tomorrow's sky
across the river we swore to hell
and I swam to christ on a mission's tell
to cast demons ashore and break waves in time
to the rhythm of a heart breaking weak from time
two shadows of angels, two hundred of reasons,
but three charms of saviours where safe is needed
can keep smiles on faces where fear is ageless
and this statue of a man whose chalk is faded
cannot find the truth for truth is made in
bedrooms shared, in boredom bared,
in lust of love and trust for morning come
and soon this morning brings
a return to form, a return to king
for queen and crown and summer's rain
under sky and sun to hide
we cover up with lips and taste
to make the best of the shortest month
to make the best of the longest year

- tgrs

photo by phw

lie to me/O Burning Fires, We Flee On The Heels Of Heat Too

Land of the Loops - Help For Your Aching Back
rest. rest. rest. rest. rest. easy. please. sometimes? motivation. understress. indivisible by hands of gods and strong against persistent expectations of a life lived by many, suffered by many, understood by little and loved by few.

Passion Pit - Sleepy Head
catchy new pop. awesome grating vocals. the kind that echo in abandoned showers.

If clouds
then sun

if now
then come

if rain
then dance

if now
then chance

if not
then run

if now
then come

another show tonight. www.standrewsradio.com. 10pm UK.

- tgrs

and in my arms are three//Choices In Chocolate Pieces

Horse Feathers - Albina
when there is wind, there is music, and trees breathe easily with the voice of the woods singing harmonies rustic as chipped from autumn bark stripped from a country cello or fiddle or violin found withering behind the shed of a grandfather's garden, singing harmonies natural in a pool of leaf shade and comfortable in the sun preaching over a canopy of willows that whistle river drops into that bank we shared our first kiss. this first kiss, with a clash of a broken orchestra, resonant and resonant to ears eager as they tickle to be touched.
// folk.acoustic \\

Jacob Golden - Cry Baby Cry (The Beatles Cover)
quality cover, especially the second half of the song. a voice soft for a lullaby gentle in its myriad messages. as frequent as new interpretations of beatles tracks are, this stands out enough to have forced another white album listen during these cloudy days of busy work and necessary distraction. walking across wet sand as geese float in the sunset, behind the cliff where waves meet before escaping back into the forever, my headphones crackle desperately.
// cover.acoustic.pop \\

The Gay Blades - Plastic Jesus (Paul Newman Tribute)
not much to offer. good night, to you and all other american icons and legends, wild west heroes and smoking rebels, business men of hatchets and leather suits, those folklore giants who tread quickly across generations of imaginations into grey tv screens and shut down theaters, good night to you and your many stars, your many moons, your universe of dreams and accomplished feats.
// acoustic.folk \\

Pearls Before Swine
- The Surrealist Waltz
and in every empty factory that lines the stretched and pulled highway, in every vacant castle that guards the violent and ominous coast, in every backseat we've shared and loved in secret throes, there exists a fine dust that floats into the air from corners and cracks of years past that have leaked stale breaths into the mouths of singers and soldiers fighting for a stage stripped of floodlights, left alone in the dark with mirrors girded to cast away the pathetic image of a dancer with no partner, a dancer of his own waltz scored with memories and fumbling feet, a dancer who lands softly upon the dust floor and lays his head onto a pillow of last night that encourages eyes shut and protected from the kick up of sand other toes could shove, and this dancer needs mercury vision to encapture his audience of less than none with his surrealist waltz.
// psychedelic.acoustic \\

I will be back on the internet air tonight, at 10pm UK, 5pm US EST, at www.standrewsradio.com.
It is a chill out show, with songs similar to the kind I usually post. If you can be by a computer at that time, please listen in - I promise enjoyment with flylo, panda, el g, 4tet, pbs and crs, and others and others.

join me down this "rabbit hole" of internet student radio

on another note, i miss driving.
on another another note, i miss everything, but this constant push helps the rush until i can settle the waiting pain into a waiting game for when this missing flourishes into a n o t h e r rrr rose whose gracing pedals grace leaving feet
and when we meet again my shoes will crumble
as do my knees

- tgrs

photo by unknown

'You Couldn't Lose Me If You Tried'//when i see double, my heart spins in two

The Notwist - Boneless (Panda Bear Remix)
something for the weekend, the onset of sleep and cheerful dreams. i have started to wonder, what if i stay? what if i take off and settle in and keep the east coast winter closer to my heart when i can see every star in our private universe from the cold shore of a backyard beach? the glee in a dance of a moment is worth the sharp turn off the path we've set for ourselves. this track should be a new panda song, but he wants to call it a 'remix.' animal collective will not be alone in releasing an album in january

Who drapes my bed with flower petals? Not her, for she is too far and too brash to pluck these red bits of beauty; not he, for he cannot find majesty in a garden full of mirror stems reflecting home beads and summer tears; not me, for i am weak to gather and pathetic to decorate my bed with petals that have the strength to lift me to a float as i sleep dreaming of missed and missing people.

Where hides the rain we love to share? Not here, for here is wet with broken showers that provide little space to dance; not there, for there is a thousand inches impossible to cross with these little feet desperate to dance; not anywhere, for anywhere we are not the sun cannot give thunder and grant sheets of water air until here for me becomes here for you and everywhere we hide there hides a raincloud made only for two.

- tgrs

My Weakness//love, love, and a hundred more reasons to quit

Panda Bear - Untitled
sing me anything to get me through the night. sing me something soft to put me to sleep.

de liver me from this place, with wings
press ed against my beating heart
i clutch fast and soar into the distance
on a bed of painted roses left for you

i know you will be there waiting
s o why should my eyes stay sunken
wi thout enough rest to watch the sun rise and set
n or the paths of children crossing from homes to hell
n or the past of adults leaving from mind to soul
in this moment of awkward return it is enough to succumb
g ood health, good spirits, and better warmth in the cave of a soldier's den.

- tgrs

here and back again//With Heartbreak, Or Wisdom Extracted Into Pools Of Sewage

Atlas Sound - S.S.C.
good hook, amidst distorted ambiance only cox could weave into a pop piece of crunchy proportions. my window leaks into the wall of back garden, and so there is no light here, but the room is still bright. there are couches, curtains, pillows and a violin, all drawing shadows against the blanketed sun this country slumbers underneath. this song sounds like this room.

Pantha du Prince - Seeds of Sleep
if there were such seeds, why do you keep them hidden? you are the sandman, but you take and give at the discretion of a romance moon that hides under skylines inspiring to many broken hearts. i'm pretty sure this song heavily samples the donnie darko soundtrack. i am a fan of both. your skirt is pretty, and your eyes beautiful, so please stop crying, and worrying, because never seems worse than forever, but both are meaningless when coasts end to meet bitter semesters of joy and future regret. if i could hug you, i would hug you tomorrow, but these arms are too smart for that.

September Collective - Primaten
noises, noises, oh noises of curious beauty. laptops seem to make more music than drums these days. i play the laptop. so silly, this technology music. goodbye twelve bar blues.

Skuli Sverrison - Seria
quiet now, please. or jump. or slide. or just run away with me into the virginia sunset above aged plantations decorated with immense trees that hug the galloping breeze, a gust of what we need to feel when the golden sky washes over our sleepy eyes. seria is that breeze, and where you find your feet after you first try flying, that sense of immediacy your toes bleed, on the carpet of summer dust and a year of love and trust, do not sweep away just because i've left, but keep tucked in a safe box under a record player that spins seria into the evening with crackles that echo against the lonely comfort of your bedroom walls.

the following is something i wrote on my journey, during the inbetween hours of here and there, when i could see both the night behind and the morning ahead, sunbreak and starshine. it is a disoriented ramble, serpentine, a maze without a minotaur but assuredly obvious to six eyes that can recognize names in symbols and verbal winks. each word can be loving, and skeptical, but completely honest. unfortunately.

and so none of you may care about the following, but for those who do, so unfolding:

There is a significant calm that creeps into your nerves when airborne. the blanket of cotton white underneath, the pristine moonlight hanging over, the suspended comfort found on forfeiting faith to a metal bird guided by machine and unknown considerations. my plastic shield, doubling as window, or gate against my own escape, shows how far i have flown. i float now where you stare into on those lonely nights with opened windows and vacant rooftops. i do not feel any closer to the moon, is it strange that i can sense you from up here? what if tonight you aren't looking up? what if tonight your thoughts are directed at the trees, or the glow, or the past, or him? what if tonight the chill from the window surges uncomfortable shivers, and you can't stand to bite your lip and suffer the empty anymore? the ocean atmosphere is reclusive, i have indulged in solitude, and as monk to your whore my waves crash too far away for you to tip toe near. i am so grateful for the secrets we have spent together. are you ready to choose? i do not expect to come back a winner, but to as many loves as my bird has feathers, there will come a time when every quill must ink honest where the knife stabs deepest. use your tongue for razor decisciveness and cut loose! those ties that stand outdated. drag your leash on another chain and let free the ignorant with heels below his head. duplicity is becoming of merchants and jokers, so queen of hearts, end such court with the king's crown above a tower of sad tissues to soak the bleeding gold when royal tears have rusted the charm of your throne.
Take me with you to your brooklyn bed of water and swim still until the air you breathe becomes the death you need to wake refreshed, naked and wet from uterine dreams that haunted your comfort but propel those quick infant feet from coast to coast to foreign playground, grappple yourself and let the onset of fall humble your dreams until the tunnel has turned into a mountain climbed and your peak ready for you to sit. you will see so many stars, and my constellation will wait for you to draw it out on the sand at your toes.
Is there a reason you cross your wood with rubber nails bent with biting teeth until persectued by cast stones and witched hate, you swing dead as a dying pendulum in your grandfather's ancient clock. to yourself, no one is as dangerous as you, and life will take you nowhere unless you unhook your cuffs and back away from your woman's wall. i know you need her, but Jung cast the anima between a pair of legs for a reason, and so you need any her to feel fulfilled, with plague dreams and wandering spirits haunting your bed. lacking, and so necessary to fill the void in your punctured wrists, you attach to anyone who could make you feel like a son again, and you smile only when you can smell perfume. maybe that's why she keeps the dog leash taught. or maybe you both stare at opaque mirrors drawn onto walls with whiteout and crayon. no matter, my superman is approaching morning and my eyes are red with tired stains. this home will be new, and my summer's stay has been fleeting, but now i am hesitant and anxious to return again. what if there is nothing for me when i land? to solitude so i will flee.

and with a thousand kisses
goodnight, he misses the few his fingers ache for,
but these skinny hands have others to shake,
and must surpress the numbing awe of invisbility
for the sake of show and tell in this classroom
of tempermental relationships
having left a thousand kisses behind
for those permenant relationships
that stand behind glass curtains.
we each hide a rock in our pocket

- tgrs

thank god for moonlight//When Beauty Confessed To The Beast

Black Moth Super Rainbow - Drippy Eye, Neon Syrup For The Cemetery Sisters
my favorite band at the moment. psychedelia at its delicious acid-washed best. if the beatles were born in the eighties, grew up through the nineties and rediscovered their casio keyboards in the new millennium, they would prob sound better than this, but in a completely different way. black moth channel the 1960s beatles as much as they channel boards of canada and discotheque, resulting in a warm, fuzzy, and confusing sound that bleeds originality and colorful curiosity. i believe that my imagination as a ten year old sounded like these two songs. life is epic with soundtrack, and i plan on giving my children a very epic childhood. they may hate me for it, but they will appreciate me so much more when they discover pot.
// psychedelic.electronica.pop \\

Terrestrial Tones
- Plowman
in a hazy brooklyn apartment, or parisian living space, the sounds of creative minds and the tweaks of distorted controls reveal the expansive experimentation of two friends with noise samples and robot voices. or, three lovers caught in bermuda with one bed and tied hands, two in love and a third deceived, but the third loved by the deer and doe and so this boat sails happy, so long as that closet stays shut and the dark settles in the dark where vitamin d dissolves into smoke rings. if i had my way, i'd listen to this song on repeat under the covers during a thunderstorm until my ears bled. with company.
// experimental.noise.psychedelia \\

Entrance - Valium Blues
ok, you've won me over. i will completely devote my carbon walls to protection from nuclear sounds, and if this guitar is radioactive, then so any strings will cause atomic winters in the corners of my floor's mattress. and if cats are oddities in beach beds, then dogs have taken ove r the shores and we must fight back to ensure that those-who-walk-on-two-legs retain control over the sand and the sun so they can bathe their paste in warm promises of beauty and acceptance at their golden prime. the spots on my skin are crawling out of my hands and into the grass of yesterday, before burns and goodbyes, before stupid mistakes, before i let you leave, before i couldn't last, before i couldn't hold you as close as i wished, before my ears bled out to my own errors and his keys, but honor all errors as hidden intentions so seuss believes me a genius.
// sludgerock.psychedelia.blues \\

Pretty Things - Private Sorrow
concept? who cares. if this sound broke my radio, then i'd be sixty years old now, with a graying beard and hair tied back thick under a hat i'd found on the road from here to somewhere different. like a dug up gem from indonesia, this breathes static and chokes on fresh air to cough up disgust at anything ordinary and typical in favor of the dust kicked up from old tires on the side of a louisiana route that has taken you too far from home for you to care which number. do you consider crackles and pops a pleasure? do you consider drugs an evil, or an indulgence, or an escape, or an opportunity? i think colors sound best in orange juice milkshakes, but you might like jam on toast instead.
// garage.blues.60's \\

hey there
whatever i say i mean it a thousand times more
because my lips are hindrances to the expressions they rear
that flesh that marks imperfection, should we instead be gods,
then we'd rule our own heaven and love endlessly
until the rest grew jealous, and we made to flee,
so run into the mountains and escape to the beach
and echo romance from summers into the sway of the breeze
so chills ensure my hands to touch, and your kiss to grace,
and a moment of night that spreads to decade of hope,
we stand together under trees to forget what obstacles,
what walls of people and consequence,
must be decorated with graffiti and notes you sing and i draw
to give our love's truth a better home than this roofless hostel we keep our sleep.

if there was forever, i wish it started now.


//photo by jj\\

"if this is the last thunderstorm..."//This Work Is Real Work

I'm not trying to impress anyone. I'm working hard for myself, for my own goals, and, most of all, for my own happiness.

I'm not trying to remix or mash-up, I'm just feeding my ear's curiosity for which songs I have come to adore sound exciting with other songs I have come to adore.

Just some experimentation. I hope you enjoy it.

TGRS Mixtape 2
1. The Field - The Little Heart Beats So Fast
2. Burial - Forgive
3. Max Richter - Maria, The Poet (1913)
4. The Bug - Freak Freak
5. Amon Tobin - Kitchen Sink (Clark Remix)
6. Radiohead - Ideoteque

i will never forget the moment we both said 'hello'
at exactly the wrong time.
but any sadness there has fled with winter's wind
when i said 'goodbye,' and you said 'i love you.'
it's not too late, the magician knows, but this kingdom is dead.
so long live the king, and you, my queen; i hope you live forever in happiness.

make-up and clown paint/For His Sake I Flee

Burial - Raver
here i am in a house flooded with thunder rain, and the clicks and thuds of a storm above stay subtle still under the encroaching shroud of this anonymous london producer. the closer to this second album untrue, burial weaves dark atmospherics with static rain and a distant club beat to paint his stretched and clipped vocal samples of loveless women, or loveless men. this song has coloured my rain for an hour already.
// dubstep.atmospheric.electronica\\

The Third Eye Foundation - La Dispute (Ttef vs. Yann Tierson)
a creaky piano stepping close beneath a lonely voice in your neighbor's attic struggles to breathe in this downtempo track from trip-hop roots. when the fingers pick up and tickle the ivory into a faster pace, your ears will weep for a sorrow only their insides can know through trembles and shakes, stutterings and gasps. if you hear a lonely song come from a lonely sidewalk, open your window, throw petals upon the lonely singer and whistle along to the lonely tune. if others join in, then the sorrow will end with a louder song that sings of comfort, without loneliness, until the world is humming in time to the most beautiful harmony the heavens have imagined. then will every lover be given a second chance, and every sun a second rise, and every tear a place to rest.
// atmospheric.orchestration \\

Nick Drake - River Man
for when the rain stops, for the consequence of precipitation, for the break of light when clouds pass, for the distant thunder that forgets to quit, for the little children pressed close to the windows, for the parents who remember, for the empty towns when winter sweeps, for the chill of frost before summer's reach, for the reunions of long-time friends, for tomorrow and the next, for the past, future, present and best, i give you nick drake.
// folk.acoustic \\

The links are working again.
Hooray for free music!


i really, really, REALLY don't understand your style//You Are A Beautiful Person

Teitur - Great Balls of Fire
a live take on a classic transformed into a baroque dance between violin, voice, and cello. forget the original and let your ears indulge with this masterful reinvention. the veil has been lifted from lewis' spastic pop to reveal a beautiful soundscape of tragedy and emotion. use this song to get you behind the wheel and go out in search of something you know you've lost from your childhood. the audience adds so much to this track.
// pop.alternative \\

Flying Lotus - Comet Course
static erratic, hypnotic beats from prefuse and burial's lovechild. lotus spins dub for a speed freak, his sound relentless and unsettling, but seductive and enchanting. dark for sure, keep this track ready for a long drive down an overcast highway into the mountains. roll those windows down and let the rain trickle in time to the clicks and twists. it's ok to feel a bit nutty sometimes, and comet course encourages a freakout mid-drive: hands wild, tongue sweating, head spinning, stay the steering wheel straight with your chin and laugh wildly at the bored commuters surrounding you. feel free to get naked while driving, just don't hit any deer.
// glitch.abstractbeats.electronica \\

Jane - Agg Report
ok, here's a long one from noah lennox (panda bear) and scott mou's ambient project. turn off the motorway, dim your headlights, and weave through dirt roads under the moon's steady stare until you feel sufficiently lost. then step out of the car and lay on the grass while jane's bass fuels nightdreams and open-eye unconsciousness. you've had your freakout, and now its time to relax...so drift easy wherever the music takes you, your ears wide and your eyes wider, your hands thrust out far from your body, your fingers probing the world around you trying to taste nature in all its sweet substance. make sure you've got some sub when you listen to this.
// ambient.atmospheric.electronic \\

The Tallest Man On Earth - This Wind
my favorite modern folk artist right now. maybe for the drive home. if anything, its worth a thought for the throwback, and a listen that will build in reward the higher you climb, the more clean air you breathe, the more birds you count above your head, the more rivers you swim, the more paths you create with a pair of old boots and a young heart eager for that distance reached and that discovery found and that journey accomplished. this album is the soundtrack to what adventures I imagine my two friends in the wilderness are living as i sit in the comfortable confines of these family walls that divide truth from existence, reality from convenience.
// folk.singersongwriter.acoustic \\

i find it all disheartening
so often i have spoken about leaving
i've learned that they need each other more than they need me
and that those who need me feed distance first
but those who needed have forgotten why for
and now i have only myself,
but i can't do it alone
so i'll let you in every now and then
when the work is weak and the time is dry
and we can play composer to a midnight orchestra
dream big in a suffocating existence
when all that matters is when next to see her
and you two together, seeing only each other,
and i settled without to have settled within
but ignored those starry skies for far too long.

by the end of this summer, i will have my first offering for a few of you.

- tgrs

the Man is getting me down//Who Wants To Fight Without A Weapon

The website that used to host all my files deleted my account, so none of the links below now work.

I'm working to find something more stable.

For now, if you are a music maker, and you like my shit, send me some music, and if I like your shit, I will feature it on this space. Since the internet police don't like me spreading the free treasure around, they can't do anything if you give me the right to distribute. So, let's hear it.

Also, if you are an artist/photographer/doodle-r, send me your shit as well. ks has her own blog now where she hosts most of her stuff, so I could use more creative people on my team to keep this page beautiful when she's too busy.

Until I find a good hosting site, I'm going to upload mixtapes through sendspace. It's part of a new project I'm working on, so if you like what you hear, holler at me and I'll keep doing it. Here's the first, nothing special, the focus being Four Tet's awesome remix of the Born Ruffians. Expect some ambient beat/noisescapes before that track hits. Air France is just an awesome found-sound group who released a new EP recently; June Evenings is a happy end to a somewhat atmospheric mix. Enjoy.

TGRS Mixtape A
1. Flying Lotus - Melt!
2. Boards of Canada - I Saw Drones
3. Radiohead - I Am Citizen Insane
4. Julianna Barwick - Unt. 5
5. The Chap - They Have A Name (Atlas Sound Remix)
6. Four Tet - I've Got Viking In Me
7. Born Ruffians - I Need A Life (Four Tet Remix)
8. Air France - June Evenings

total running time: 17:36

Who Goes Where?//deep down, i think she's fine

The Zombies - This Will Be Our Year
old charm from a record player your father smoked beside when his hair was long and his thoughts vague. his fingers tapped to the beat of discovery and the smoke whistled through the cracks of new vinyl under the hum of history. this sound has floated from leaking windows into the minds of countless music makers and history shapers, this sound that weaves so carelessly and pointedly into the hearts of eager children too young to remember the smoke your father breathed into the breast of his teenage years he gave up for your future. return the favor.
// 60spop \\

Sigur Ros - Gobbledigook
i believe in harmonies that make sense in both the natural and the mystical worlds. I believe in melodies that can soar beyond our physical limitations and dive off our mind's cliff into the river of a soul's shrouded curiosities that lap at shores of magic sand that spark journeys of escaping sounds we clutch at with dizzy hands, hungry for solace in the sense that sounds must make for us to sing along. gobbledigook has no sense, but i sing along anyway, and it is beautiful.
// freakfolk.pop.alternative \\

Magnet - The Gospel Song
ok, i'd love to dance with you. clap our hands, knock feet, and swing each other into the sunset's farewell hugs. your hair bounces as your teeth shine through enamel gates, and my boots click in time to the fluttering of your eyelashes. this gospel rings nights of youth you remember even as your skin greys, even as the moon kisses fade, even as the memories dwindle. big beat, clap clap, huzzah! and a do-se-do. stand up for this track, then pull a lover's hand close.
// pop.alternative \\

Your glass words have demonstrated just how much we've lost in a summer battle over winter come and fall's slaughter, each vowel reminding me of a secret slipped between my ears and those lips, those delicate red creatures that growl flirts and hiss taunts as we stand in an Olympian procession exposed to the torturous hot solitude of Sun and September.

Your painted mask has shown that in careful detail you tread unashamed of what you are, what beauty you guise in nocturnal mystery through insomnia eyes and how charcoal your whispers have become, spoken above tickling fingers that hugged under covers and weeped together, shedding shards of their innocent souls who knew too well what ends in December.

Your selfish care has reeked its stain across my heart, and now I too frequently feel apathy where romance and passion before stood their ground. Maybe it is for the best, since the air is thick with humidity, possibilities, reckless danger, and charms that spring magical when given time for a third.

embrace, embrace, embrace, embrace
rainstorm, rainstorm, rainstorm, rainstorm
dance, danger, dance!


write to believe//See To Revere

Au - Boute
i am entirely convinced that this song was recorded in an your dead grandfather's attic, where we would call spirits with broken cardboard and light candles with torches on the eve of adulthood. there is a sophisticated, childish charm in the au sound. i hear memories of peanut butter and swings underneath a dirge for innocent kisses and midnight phone calls, which in turn succumbs to a soaring acceptance of responsibility, experience, and wisdom. like bon iver with animal collective as their backing band.
// folk.experimental \\

Lucky Dragons - Wooden Cave Loop
isolation, inner peace, escape, self-convention, hibernation, meditation, contemplation, self-discovery, ameliorative, indulgent, selfish, self-awareness, survival, weirdness. these and other reasons for following ld's instructions.
// experimental.abstract \\

Odd Nosdam - My Prayer Rug
i can see where you are coming from. i have shared your same eyes before, and that butterfly flew onto my chest with a sweet flap and careful kiss from her winged lips just as often as she cocooned in your soul. the steady haze here settles onto my heart bug and sweats beads of suggestion that seep into my pores until i can breathe only when the constant noise-synth pauses for speech and secret laughter.
// postrock.electronica.shoegaze \\

Ulrich Schnauss - Clear Day
who knows? with the sunshine this song glows and inside you are warmed by the second crescendo. a track for late cloudy mornings with your back to the window and a clutch of grey tea. slight boards of canada sound here, but with a mix of early moby. imagine a dance party on a moor, with thick fog enveloping the groove and the wet grass seducing our feet. bodies move in silhouettes and drip away as the drums fade into eight minute nostalgia.
// electronica.dreampop.newage \\

for a reconnection

for a retirement

for a regret

for a reason

inspiration, or
any regard
that inspires you to regard inspiration as unbearably inspiring.

farewell to children//If Only We Could Be Forever

Odd Nosdam - Untitled Three (JB's OG Mix)
the fuzz is beautiful white noise in this track, and the quiet movement of the crackle's steady pace insists that 4 am is bedtime as your head nods to beat and sleep. i swear that voice is coming from behind my ceiling. or, i've finally learned to dream with my eyes open. either way, my dim haze of insomnia leaves me with only nosdam's chalk-powder music. if you don't want to surrender to pillow sin, then devote your dawn to headphones and press play.
// shoegaze.electronica. \\

Ruby Suns - It's Mwangi In Front Of Me
i lied. insomnia grants ears more time, and they have perked to dusty tracks of gentle lush. i have read somewhere that overexposed kids compare suns to collectives, and i agree, in some instances, but tonight i offer evidence for distinction. if animals gathered kevin shields and made him smile with only an acoustic device, then the suns have left utero to watch, listen, and learn. i think they did.
// experimental.atmospheric \\

Ryan Adams - The Shadowlands
now you can hear better, i bet. this is easily depressing, so keep a firm grin as you listen. or, settle for tears and hug your blanket tighter until your knuckles look like piano keys. this is a song for loners. or, a song for people who like people enough to miss some of them. either way, enjoy the time you've spent considering whether or not you like ryan adams. i've settled on admiration, let me know where you've ended up.
// alternative.pop \\

I'd like to think we all leave for a better existence. Can you smile as you walk out the door?
A challenge I'd wager few would take, but still some might internalize
and I don't mind that; the more people try and remember to smile, the closer we get to a better
existence. If not that, then, at least, with door shut behind, the future is so immediate you may laught at the ridiculous existence you have lived since wood shut still.

I hope you'll smile after you've laughed enough.


// photo by jj \\

playpen sex//Let's Dream!

Cannonball Jane - Take It To Fantastic (Smallstars Remix)
just discovered this artist a few hours ago. fantastic electropop sound that borders on delightfully spastic, like a twitch you may get when you feel so completely happy your smile threatens to jump off your face and onto the stranger next to you. it bubbles up with such distorted goodness that tastes more like candy with each listen. ms cannonball has this melody she tosses around that is sure to get stuck in your head, but its ok, this aural plague is worth the sleepless night ahead of you.
// electro.pop \\

Cut Copy - Lights & Magic
woah, 80s. flashy waves of mock depeche could only sound better if the year actually was 1986. a dark happy; even the evil must enjoy something worth enjoying, and here hell dances to this track underneath a flaming disco ball. ok, it might not be that evil. but there is something underneath the glamour and shine this track shoves in your face. and i believe that something to be a den of sin.
//electro.dance \\

Jamie Lidell - Out Of My System
motown, as done by a white boy who dabbled in IDM. your parents will probably like this track as much as you do, and no, i don't care how old you think your parents are. they still have hearts of children, and those hearts will pound double to the beat of this highly dance-able, sing-along classic that's not even a classic, but go ahead and tell mr lidell that; he sounds like he's convinced himself that his home has been your record player for the past thirty years. a clean-shaven tenet, but this track has a coke addiction
// pop.soul.funk \\

Music, more music! the daylight has demanded a party with acid-funk
so i'll throw my backyard into a blotter daze
and maybe we can strip naked together, i don't think the grass is wet
but if it is, how about a summer bath with acid-wash haze?
Warmth, oh the warmth! that spectral force of life and heat
thank you for this shine delivered and received
my smoke has tangled up these crisp leaves you've toasted clean
and soon our bath becomes a pool of flame-soaked feet
but i don't mind the dancing
and this fire's so entrancing
or maybe its just the sheets our tongues have licked
and the bad habit in two years we'll have to kick
the manic mindset we'll slip ourselves in
and without escape, indulge the acid-made sin;
but i feel so cozy, i feel close to sleep - this pyre of lust we've created is reaching to beyond
imagine that? our fires colliding
and dancing together, like acid-step and acid-twist,
winding itself upwards to explode in a shower of sparks that rest so gently on our eyelashes.

when i whistle the tune you have in your head, i hope you stop dancing and lay next to me
every fire must burn away, but i'd rather we keep ours burning till the woods sweat and plead
for us to end our night, and greet the stars and lights in the evening sky
with evening sleep full of acid-dreams.

- tgrs

Calm Down, Please, Just Calm Down//do you care enough?

Unique post.

I believe Animal Collective's song 'Doggy' to be one of the single most heart-wrenching pieces of music created in the 21st century. I challenge you to tell me differently.
If you've ever fallen in love with your pet, you will understand.
If you've ever lost a pet, you will understand.

One of the best things about this song is Avey Tare's lyrics, which you can find here, written from the oft-forgotten perspective of childhood. If you have the time, try reading these along with the music in each version of 'Doggy' I post. All three versions convey different feelings, ranging from sorrow, acceptance, to happy remembrance, but the soul of the song remains unchanged by its lyric's innocent magnificence.

Doggy (off of 'Campfire Songs,' 2001)
The first recorded incarnation of this song was performed on a porch in Maryland by members Avey Tare, Panda Bear, and Deakin; soundscape put together by Geologist. Emotive in its simplicity, the original 'Doggy' track travels across bounces into sublime shimmers and delicate strums, then exploding into a strange chorus of harmonies that gives chills for its effectiveness.

Sleeper Factory/Doggy (from BBC Radio 1 Breezeblock Session, 2004)
One of the best versions available of both 'Sleeper Factory,' a b-side with as much beauty and charm as any released song from the group, and 'Doggy,' segued into with an off-handed grace Animal Collective wield at every live show (and one of the best reasons to see this band live; their set usually has only three pauses for applause, otherwise all their songs flow one into the next in new ways each night). The best chance to hear clearly the lyrics, though the bridge melodies in this session aren't achieved as well as in the original.

Doggy/Hey Light (from another BBC Radio Session, in 2007)
An updated take on 'Doggy,' with added percussion and effects that exactly demonstrates how Animal Collective's sound has grown from the dawn of this decade. My personal favorite version. Also, another AC-styled segue, this time into 'Hey Light,' a work from Here Comes The Indian (2003). Certainly a taste of how AC's 2007-08 tours have sounded. Just less loud.

Personal anecdote none of you may care about (if so, then just download, listen, and forget all about me): I had heard the Campfire Songs version of Doggy first, but never got into it. Then I heard this version, and my obsessive love for this song and everything about it began. Ironically, since I connected with this live jam more than the acoustic melancholy off Songs, I thought 'Doggy' was joyous as a celebration of pets past loved and soon to be found, but certainly not depressing. The beat was too dance-worthy, the harmonies too Beach Boys-esque. But therein lies the charm of 'Doggy:' the woe of a dog's death, the stubborn reluctance to accept this loss, and the eventual grin that decorates your face as you remember the delight shared between you and your doggy when you lived together are all expressed in one song, but each facet is demonstrated differently depending on how the band decides to perform it. And so after dancing around my room for the umpteenth time to the last version, I decided to finally read the lyrics - and my heart sank. I listened to the jam again, and this time sat down, my head in my hands, reeling from my own past struggle to cope with the vicious theft of my best friend by the perverted hands of a debilitating cancer. As the memories of one year past broke free from their hidden cage in the back of my mind, I forgot about the uplifting percussion, the sunny day harmonies, and the only lyrics I had picked up on before:

"Such a sweet doggy."

The words burst from my speakers and collided with the thought of that very day I handed over my "doggy" to a death dealer, those curious demons who hide evil behind diplomas and prescriptions, apathy behind sweet talk and behind-the-ear scratches, and I took in the full meaning of AC's 'Doggy.' It was over-powering. I then immediately played the original version, and was subsequently floored again. How could I have missed this? I scolded myself for my pathetic listening skills. I then rushed to gather every version of the song available in a mad dash to absorb the track completely, in all its flavors. I knew I had found something special when even the shittiest live recordings, done from some thirteen year old's cell phone, managed to punch me in the throat. For a while, I couldn't listen anymore. It was getting too difficult to hear a stranger lament over a tragedy I felt too in common. I certainly couldn't listen to it in front of other people; what used to be a favorite for me to blast in circles and groups now made me unsightly choke up. So I left 'Doggy' cold for a few weeks. The song was too perfect for me to even listen to it.

The weeks up to her death, her eyes flooded with blood and her bowels uncontrollably emptied as she stumbled into furniture. The days before her death, she sat underneath her chair and stared blankly out the front door. The day she died, she was scared as I left her. I was too.
But now I focus on how she loved the first snow, to eat some in leaped bounds; how she loved barking at eggs and toasters; how she loved the cool tile floor; how she bent her ears back when you pet her; how she taught herself to raise her paw and ask for more; how the first time I met her, she nibbled on my fingers until I would take her home; how when I did, she ran around me in circles for a full minute before collapsing on my lap.
She shed a lot, and I still find her hairs everywhere. I don't mind anymore.

Isn't this how all music should be? Shouldn't every song take you by the ears and spin you madly until you either puke from the strain or take over and shake yourself wildly in circles because that is the only choice you have to express how wonderful the music has affected you? I believe that to be the only goal for music. If your audience is not brought to tears, to dancefloors, to inspiration, to grinning, to singing, to roaring, to shaking, or even to puking, then you have nothing to offer the world but noise.

/end anecdote+commentary. I posted all three versions for you, the AC obsessive, the AC skeptic, the accidental reader, the mp3 downloader, the elbo.ws searcher, or even the frequent viewer, to discover a taste of what I think is beautiful about this world.


it's certainly been a long time//Sun and Rain and Weather Stories

Paavoharju - Tuoksu Tarttuu Meihin
one of the most beautiful pieces I've heard in awhile. trapped in a jungle's rainstorm with a storyteller and a thirteen year old opera singer. if the amazon could smile, it would sound like these three minutes. there is a hidden calm in this track you could only discover if you sit in front of a very large window with headphones on during a grey season. believe in the out-of-body, it is a freeing concept.
// atmosheric.world \\

Festival - Bind Us All
sisters from brooklyn, voices from a southern gospel record of the 1860's. harmonies waltz with bells and spin melodies around dungeon drums that beg for an imaginative listening experience. folk without the beards. their 'Come, Arrow, Come!' album has beautiful, engaging, unnatural sounds spun with child-like innocence. these girls must have heard angels in the womb.
// folk.pop.country \\

Fleet Foxes - Sun Giant
debut ep. beach boys gone boy scouts gone henry david thoreau. if all the woodsmen in the world sang in unison, it would pale in comparison to fleet foxes' five-piece sound. drenched in a thicket of reverb, this track begs a mountain view and crisp morning air. city cells and wild backyards are patches of insignificance to the landscape this band uses as their stage.
// folk.vocal.pop \\

Bon Iver - For Emma (Take Away Show Rip)
two sectioned epic. first, a soul-wrenching acapella sung in the entrance hallway of a French apartment building. second, a walking conclusion backed by guitar and keys down rain-soaked concrete in line with an attentive audience. beautiful piece ripped from La Blogotheque's amazing Take Away Show series. i recommend the Arcade Fire, Sufjan Stevens, volcano!, and Animal Collective TAS's as well. enjoy, and please go further.

How come the bluebird woe? Why stay these thundercloud summers? My June is escaping my memory and refusing to accept come July, why for? July must come as September falls, and soon September will rise again, as it has forever ago when first September was lifted by the creative minds of our language artisans. Do not fret; June leaves and July scares, but August will excite uncontrollably, for it will bring the amazing birth of another century of love, smiles, tears, dreams, and laughs. Soon you will decide the soundtrack of fiction's life, and children will hear what you hear when you finally press play. The world will sound like the air is laughing, the trees are dancing, and the sun hugs its family close, but only when you can bring August down from a future fear to present confidence. If I could make you love what songs you have to offer, bluebird, I would try hard to dry June's showers and dispel July's heat; but I cannot play the Tempest, no matter how my heart wishes itself the strength to calm the storms you fear, I cannot play with what you have to suffer. Suffer to conquer, through robins, jackels, lions and eagles, a flight of perseverance I believe weaker than your steady wings. My gift to you is only my heart, my heart, though too small for its Olympian hubris, but large enough to pass eight hours with enduring solitude and patience for next winter's June, when you, my bluebird, may end your woes and sing with colours I will have waited all season to hear again.

Do not fret. Look back, but do not stare - blink
at memories, those cherished, those hated,
and fly forever on until the nest is ready for your weary feet.

I want you all to have this.


When Sharks Attack//thanks, kat

Jurassic Five - Swing Set (DJ Yoda Mix)
The 45 King - Too Damn Funky
The Cool Kids - 88
Ratatat - Mumtaz Khan
Diplo - Shhake It Up (Twist and Shout)
Clark - Volcan Veins
Gnarls Barkley - Going On
El Guincho - Kalise

// hiphop.electronica.dance.glitch.pop. \\

please bear with me as we work on this space. it's summer time, and this page needs a tan.
let's celebrate with some uppity tunes, awright? these go out to make someone dance.

a million points to ks for helping out. if someone had invented a teleportation device, I'd totally teleport you some ice cream and a batch of cookies.

Here's to you, girl.

- tgrs

// composition by ks \\

"Holding, Tightly"//i never said never

Animal Collective - Chocolate Girl (Live Radio Session)
CocoRosie - By Your Side
Patrick Watson - Sleeping Beauty
Kria Brekkan - Wildering
Belong - Girl From New York

// experiementalpop.atmospheric \\

I hope this finds you well,
your mind at ease and your smile contagious.

Do you remember how to stretch your teeth
across a human neck?
Do you remember how to wrench a heart
without a single breath?
Or what it takes to make a man
crumble in regret?
Or what you need to feel alive
when all we have is death?

I think you do, because today has been remarkably brighter than the last.

(i hope you are listening close enough; i give more of myself away with each note)

- tgrs

// illustration by ks \\

to the girl who spells made-up words//Remind Me, Merlin

Amon Tobin - My Love (Live Mix, Chicago Jan. 2008)
Aphex Twin - Heliosphan
Kings of Convenience - The Weight of My Words (Four Tet Remix)

// experimental.abstractbeats.electronica \\

to the girl who spells made-up words,
I'm hooked on your fiction
like a bad case of nose friction
each sniff closer to a night of attrition
and this mission is sniffing
so let's get to shifting
a million decibels of druggie bitch fixings
take it, take as is and let's get the twirls
dance tight when your fingers stick curls
fast, grab, and pull, dance with powder pearls
drink up, girl, let's soak this rush
with diamond coated pills, this ruby crush
cheeks flushed
alright, a drug bust,
I knew it would happen
when we let love lust.


okay, that's enough kids, break it up -
the truth is out and the truth takes shit
spins it wild, fucks with it,
crafts it solid into something sick.
what time when the world stops still?
does the clock drip down from a clock-soaked sill,
into a puddle of colors and a flood of thrill;
we lap at the red and sift through the blue
and take turns laughing as we melt into
a renaissance painting of a sanity zoo
where me, you, and robot too,
get lost together in a watercolor coup.


i think we'll be fine
drenched in cheap wine
with Spanish mimes
reading Shakespeare lines
under the moonlight shine
and remember, this time
you can't run, you can't hide,
it's better to pretend we both tried
and met in the middle with hands tied.
but atleast this heat never made me lie.

- tgrs

// illustration by ks \\

call it optimism, so what?//I Miss You

CocoRosie - God Has A Voice, She Speaks Through Me
Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti - For Kate I Wait
Quiet Village - Victoria's Secret
Ratatat - Shiller

// alternativepop.psychedelic.electronica.dub \\

Let's play a game.

I'll write you a thousand words, and you pretend to read them all. You fall in love, you kiss my eyelids, and together we'll drift into a distant sleep. But here's the catch: when I wake up, you have to be there. You can't runaway; not this time. Not again.

"But what if the moon hides behind a thousand clouds, and the temperature drops below a river's chill, and my ankles turn blue with the midnight frost?"

Then we'll play another game.

I'll wrap you up in blankets woven with heaven's thread and roast little fires underneath those skinny ankles, until the blue blends back deep into the river's crest; a kiss of water will then greet your thirst and not your warmth, so cradled in love and handled with admiration. When your cheeks flush crimson clear, I'll part my grasp to let you run in circles, naked and blissful, dancing to a mental beat you've crafted in sleep and the witches have warned their children to keep, but for years you've lived so close to their homes that you can recite the devil's case in words of praise and melodies with acid laced; I won't move, just watch, and listen, with my ears comfortable to listen forever.

"But what if my voice cracks, my heels snap, my beat lags, or your ears gag? My tone could drop, my prance could stop, and then where does that leave me? Warm and silent, an audience silenced because their idol stands quiet? I couldn't bear."

For that, here's my last...

A test, a game, a fortune teller's dream; I can see you may stumble with this newfound glee of running a race with rabbit feet, when all you thought you'd need was a working clock and a bag of rocks that shocked the time as your hare heels walked right through the next decade's chase; together we are here, and forever may come a minute late, but if you're willing to wait, be patient, be patient! and forever comes for love and saves.

- tgrs

// illustration by ks \\

I Can't Hope To Understand//like a shark, I swim hungry

Jonny Greenwood - Open Spaces
Ted Lucas - Raga in D
Bibio - It Was Willow
Bjork - Desired Constellation
Radiohead - Cuttooth
Nine Inch Nails - 25 Ghosts III

*fixed all links*

// orchestra.acoustic.newage.atmosphericpop.alternativerock.soundscape \\

I've run too many laps to feel how great the sloth may overtake, but the ease with which you slaughter a clock's marathon with idle purpose disturbs the eager soul beneath your chest. I can hear it roar and snap from between your lungs, a painful scream for attention that causes your veins to vibrate with anticipation; but you rub your arms quiet and rest longer, the desire to rise and run too little to push. How fast does this security hold, how stubborn must the stars align to show a world beyond yet close enough for you to find; I have walked many wearisome paths, and come across too many ends, to understand why you waste your feet and settle home when the world with arms desperately open waits for you.

Maybe you need incentive, and have found none thus far. Fair enough, I think, so now I must, with toes subdued and ankles made useless, discover the mystery that weakens your nomadic soul and curious heart. I will start at the beginning, when we first met:

In a playground you sat deep on a swing that took you far enough up high that I thought you may soar, but fast you clung to those rusted protecting chains. The first thing I noticed about you was the way your eyes lit up as the your feet crossed the treeline and the sun met your smile with his. I knew then you could find the Fountain of Youth if only you let go of those creaking links.

Like a tape skipping, slipping, and sputtering, now I find you sitting on a park in a haze of bliss and psychedelia. That burning star is falling behind midnight's army of thick cloud, but your sunglasses are stalwart protectors that will stay on your face until the sunset battle is resolved. The grass is poking up at your feet and entwining your toes as you yearn to jump into the arms of mystery (I can tell), but something on that damp field kept you seated; I watch you ignore what your heart beats and why your ears ringand how your eyes burn whenever he comes near. You could have the romance of two doves on the Arc enjoying the rain, only because they are together, and the rain is beautiful to watch when you perch close to the wings of a heavenly lover.

We come now to a new vision, a doveless venture that finds the earth dry and wanting. You have no reason to run, no feeling of youth coursing through your blood, no desire to discover what else could possibly exist beyond your safe radius of unpleasant stability. You sleep awake and walk tired from one room into another, turning each door handle with apathetic disgust that exhausts your entire soul. You are killing yourself with sleepless dreams that take you farther than you are willing to ever go, and now I must put down this typing pen and cry, cry for what you used to be, cry for the beauty you used to embody, cry for the joy you once kept in your smiles, cry for the adventure you once started but never saw through, cry for the course your life is set, and cry for that dwindling flame in your half-shut eyes.

I hope you heed my words and open a new window this evening; take off those guardians of sunlight, and stare deep into the sky's stubborn stars, read their intentions with excited thrill and then gallop out of your brick enclave. I hope you remember that child who aimed high with a swing, smoked deep with curiosity, and loved unconditionally. If that child has died, then I beg you to light a new fire, with equal parts pleasure and dolor, so there is sufficient spark to throw yourself deep into a new mystery, an awakened life that finds colors only the enlightened eyes can use to paint their walls a beautiful Picasso.

- tgrs

'the spirit catches...'//I Know Enough To Leave Now

George Cromarty - Flight
Taken by Trees feat. TTA - Taken Too Young
Panda Bear - Ponytail
The Temptations - My Girl

// acoustic.dreampop.motown \\


The morning the sky opened up,
the clouds were a common white
and the weather was comfortable.
I couldn't find her anywhere,
I looked so hard my pupils bled
and left a trail for her to track me.
They took me into the sky,
where I broke records blinking eyes
against the wind of breaking night.
Suffering the avalanche's frost,
I made reunion with my dear pet
and walked her into a river deep.
Together again, we swam for miles,
past intelligent doctors, beautiful and blind
we crushed petals and deep we breathed.
The snow tasted like heaven which,
indulgent and persistent, we drank fast
and choked on sickly joy.
I learned that nothing was missed,
because together we ran and ran and ran
till our hearts burst and our souls

finally met eternal rest.


// illustration by ks \\

dedicated//I Find It Hard To Disappear Anymore

Nine Inch Nails - Slipping Away
Burial - Untrue
Portishead - Threads

// industrialrock.dubstep.triphop \\

powerhouse tracks, for the mid-spring blues and late night grievances.
yes, I'm tired.
yes, I'm still awake.
yes, I may be dreaming.
but how does that explain why you're here?

you're such a jealous creature. why can't you look past the things that don't matter?
you've such curious features. why don't you smile more and force those wolves to scatter?
you are amazing and I need my fix
and I need some answers to cure these tricks
I bet it would be fine if you snuck over
contemplate cloud shapes in my windowless cellar
but you're probably too busy growing up
when I'm fine with staying young

- tgrs

sun, bathe me//The Monads Don't Have Windows

The Tallest Man on Earth - I Won't Be Found
Bob Dylan - In My Time of Dyin'
Murder by Death - Those Who Stayed
Chris Watson - Telegraph Cove at Night

// folk.rock.nature \\

I'd hate to think this was all we had to offer, that our hours invested were wasted on idle truths and convincing liars, dancing on a drowning seesaw. Maybe if we could run off and disappear, a fitting finale could find us under some oak's shelter in the forest of my backyard; like an alternate ending to Dr. Faustus, with impotent devils and rescuing angels, we could escape any mistakes we've made and live subtly by the beach. If I'm asking for too much, please ignore this message, and attribute my slight of tongue to the late hour and the persistence of ill mental health. Or, next time you catch my eye, raise your eyebrows seductively and walk away. Maybe you'd rather not play a second round, but I'd love a new dose of temptation.

Together, we could escape the obstacles of time and run headfirst into forever, tripping over the fortunes of tomorrow and forgoing any promises of yesterday. Hand in hand, palm touching palm, I believe. Without an extra pair of socks, my feet are already wet.

Goodnight, until you wake.

- tgrs

// illustration by ks \\

welcome home!//I Think I Am Lost...

Radiohead - Worrywort
Jose Gonzalez - Storm
My Morning Jacket - I Will Be There When You Die
Junior Boys - FM (Marsen Jules Remix)

// alternative.acoustic.atmospheric.pop \\

Here we are.
Take it, I won't mind. Yes, yes, yes I promise - it's for you!

How long until this ride ends? My head is tired. My throat is sore. My knees are weak. My fingers have stopped bleeding, though.

I want to imagine a place with rounded corners, curved bed frames and stained glass lampshades covering green hollow light bulbs. I want to find myself awoken by the smell of a dead mother's cooking and an aged father's yells, a spirit dog's yelps and chimney smoke wafting from a bakery in the next town over.

I could lift myself out of bed and walk through this dream with arms poised for hugs and my eyes clouded with sleep, but I'd rather roll over to the cool side of my pillow, for I know that, at the very least, this thread count is real, and those pancakes are dangerous.


// photo by somerandomGoogleImagesearch \\