Trembling Blue Stars-Idyllwild

This is anthem for a girl who was once seventeen, who, hears a song on the radio, and remembers the past. The future with its glass buildings and high heels and smudged mascara, cities and lights, a distant reminder closing in...of a past spent holding hands with a best friends, laying on the dew tinted grass at night, tracking a ladybug's progress on a thin twig. A past where her bedroom was the center of her universe, snapped polaroids pinned on walls a musty rose paint. This song is a reminder of all the possibilities, a sky stretching with the pins of a billion stars, it's a surrounding image, it's a time traveling moment, it's a nonstop enchanting song about a girl whose favorite thing is snow...snow, and being alone.

Labels: beauty, nights, seventeen, snow, swee

It's not just procrastination. Or the lack of anything to say (or ways of saying it). Although, yes, those come into play, somewhat, always.

It might simply be fear.

Because when you settle down, reach a decision, finally make a post that details your mission in a blog--not to listen to every promo song ever and hand pick the ones that are mediocre to relatively good, to only share those songs that are worth something, something personal, it's a decision to reveal a lot more of myself.

Revealing myself has been a constant in my life lately--but only to a diary no one will read, to a mind no one can see through, to people I'll never truly meet.

Songs have become something more, again. Every line resonates within something personal, something I'm afraid to explore.

So. Stop speaking in abstracts. Stop thinking in vague terms.

Here's a song, a delightful song, a catchy song, a stuck in your mind, chorus repeating, singalong, upbeat, Swedish indie pop song. A song that seems to represent so much of my life, at least some aspects of it. At least enough to become more than just a catchy pop song.

Maia Hirasawa-And I Found This Boy

It sums it up, all too well. Those cheery trumpets, that snapping melody, the fickle piano, Maia's voice, self assured, sass tinted...except for those few lines, of course. Those few lines of honesty, of revealing vulnerability, truth underneath this outward whatever. The exclamation marks of stopping points, climatic moments in a conversation. Don't say I'm desperate, I'm not! But she is. And no matter how hard the righteous chorus, the girlfriend at home, the pleas from the boy, the drinking all night long...it's all too simple, it's all too apparent. I wish I had not been here before.

Labels: fears, POP, pretend, regret, swee

Annemarie-Bubblegum I See

This is beyond--light fluffs of pastel clouds, cuddly shapes, bubbles in glistening hues of happiness and brightness, innocence and so much love and adoration and sunshine! and rainbows! and fresh dew on fields of green grass! and daisys! and tiny flowers! dancing in the softest caress of a breeze! holding hands! smiles and laughs and giggles and memories and nostalgia and living light as a butterfly. This is beyond--twee as fuck POP! cuddlecore anything.

Bliss.

Labels: boyandgirl, pastels, sunshine, swee

Loney, Dear-Saturday Waits

Swedish pop. Anticipation. Waiting. Longing. A sea breeze, a memory. Brushing and hinting. These sensations, tiny pleasures, light and quick pressures of action. You won't ever be tell, outright, but there's a suggestion, a whispered action for consideration, rising and rising and pushing, until it becomes a part of your mind. And suddenly, it's obvious, like the catchy rising waves of the song, the layers upon layers of eager anticipation and excitement, covering the nervousness and fear until it becomes a whirl of hopes and dreams and smiles and Saturday night waiting. Waiting to get over it then, finally.

Labels: anticipation, swee, whisper, wind