iLOVEMUSIC.

Emperors Club.

Stephanie Anne — Sat, 24 Dec 2011 01:03:28 +0000

You should check out this link and get your hands on Emperors Club EP, The Castle. A four track summation of awesomeness with 90s alt-rock vibes and hooks abounding. My friend, Adam Havlin, wrote Brooklyn, track number four, and it still is one of my favorite songs by the quintet.

Ho for the Holidays a la Farraday.

Stephanie Anne — Mon, 19 Dec 2011 18:30:05 +0000

My great friends, Farraday, did a take on the holiday classic “Baby, It’s Cold Outside”.

You can get the download, FOR FREE, here.

Cheers and I hope you have a fabulous holiday season!

All This & Heaven, Florence + the Machine.

Stephanie Anne — Thu, 24 Nov 2011 18:37:51 +0000

And the heart is hard to translate, it has a language of its own. It talks in tongues and quiet sighs, in prayers and proclamations, in the grand days of great men in the smallest of gestures, in short shallow gasps. But with all my education, I can’t seem to command it. And the words are all escaping me and coming back all damaged. And I would put them back in poetry, if I only knew how. I can’t seem to understand it and I would give all this and heaven too, I would give it all if only for a moment that I could just understand the meaning of the word, you see, because I’ve been scrawling it forever, but it never makes sense to me, at all. And it talks to me on tiptoes, and sings to me inside, it cries out in the darkest night, and breaks in the morning light. But with all my education, I can’t seem to command it. And the words are all escaping me and coming back all damaged. And I would put them back in poetry, if I only knew how. I can’t seem to understand it and I would give all this and heaven too, I would give it all if only for a moment that I could just understand the meaning of the word, you see, because I’ve been scrawling it forever, but it never makes sense to me, at all. And I would give all this and heaven too, I would give it all if only for a moment that I could just understand the meaning of the word, you see, because I’ve been scrawling it forever, but it never makes sense to me, at all. No words, a whole language, doesn’t deserve such treatment, and all of my stumbling phrases never amounted to anything worth this feeling. All this heaven… never could describe such a feeling as I hear… words were never so useful so I’m screaming out a language that I never knew existed before.

Rhythms and drum beats in “After Midnight”.

Stephanie Anne — Tue, 01 Nov 2011 03:40:42 +0000

I believe there is something peaceful in percussion. You can have chaos and repetition, swirling sound, but there is something in the rhythm of a drumbeat that eases my mind. Percussion has always played a major role in my obsession with music. Along with lyrics. There is something in the sporadic sound of a high hat clashing and melding into a snare hit combining seamlessly with the bass drum. The combinations, seemingly endless, are reverential, as are the countless drummers who combine these sounds to make art. Where an English major, such as myself, loves the way words rise and fall, and their sounds create a symphony, there is an artistry in creating the perfect rhythmic backdrop to songs. Some of the most underrated musicians are the drummers, sitting behind the singer and guitarists, bassists and keyboardists, as they expel so much energy pounding out a heartbeat to the song.

What brought these thoughts on? I was listening to “After Midnight” by Blink 182, off of their newest release, Neighborhoods. Travis Barker has always been a percussion God, creating ridiculous sounds that weave intricately through Blinks common chords. Where Tom DeLonge and Mark Hoppus bring personality, Travis Barker pumps life into the words, the emotion, especially in this song, comes from Barker. The opening percussion, high hat and snare, link guitar and words, focusing a common thread, a heartbeat of sorts, through the rest of the song. Every time I listen to this song, I focus all my attention on Barker’s sound, and I can’t help but feel the depth of the words, and their importance, are somehow made more profound by the percussion. Just as I have fallen under the spell of Florence and the Machine, and her excellent use of percussion to punctuate and highlight the highs and lows of lyrics, this particular track of Blink 182′s encapsulates the sporadic heartbeat of someone thinking through his or her troubled relationship. The internal ticking clock, just like the title suggests, it is after midnight, bringing with it a new day and new hope for something more, something better, or simply, just something.

P.S. Sorry for not adding links, as I usually do. I am having some internet difficulty.

Farraday’s “Put Me on the Next Plane”.

Stephanie Anne — Sun, 30 Oct 2011 18:06:24 +0000

My friends, Farraday, have released their official video from their first single, “Put Me on the Next Plane.” Amazing group of individuals, wonderful musicians. It is a blessing to know these guys! I love it you guys!

Click here for the video!

Music and Emotions: the girl and her iPod.

Stephanie Anne — Thu, 18 Aug 2011 18:54:43 +0000

I am thoroughly enjoying the shuffle on my iPod. Cruz was always good at choosing the perfect music for the moment. I have always been intrigued about how there always is method to the madness in music. How a note can evoke something deep within your soul. How a lyric can say something so profound, or so stupid. And of course, the moments when you begin to listen to the radio, or some mix CD long forgotten, and every song seems to say something, strike a chord, know exactly what to say in relation to how you are feeling. Right now Cruz (yes, I named my iPod) is choosing the perfect songs. I have over sixteen days of music, and even with that immense amount of choice, Cruz has managed to play perfect examples of my thoughts and feelings, has managed to pull emotions out of my chest that I knew were there, barely dormant, and breathe life into them. The question becomes, do we see and hear what we want from the music, or does the music really know us.

I am not saying that Cruz, even if he has personality, has artificial intelligence. He does emote, he cannot talk, he does not walk, and though I love him like a person (his death will be felt), he is not a person, he cannot relate to me. But here he is, with shuffle going, bringing out songs that echo my sentiments. And believe me, not every song on my iPod would echo what I am feeling now. But somehow the first five songs (and only five songs played so far) have struck something deep within me. (And I haven’t touched my iPod in two weeks, there has not been frequent listens, and if there has been in the past month, those songs haven’t been played, nor do they exactly portray what I am and have felt.)

Music is a beautiful thing. I never knew how to handle people who did not appreciate music, who could not listen to it and experience it. I know everyone has different ways how to handle things, but my outlet has always been music. I cannot play it (flute and guitar were my two instruments, though I failed miserably at both), but I know the importance it carries to musicians. I feel there is a part of me that was/is a musician, but something broke within me before I could fully learn. Like the ex-athlete who coaches for a living. Music always surrounded me when I was young. I was a dancer, and learned to emphasize rhythms and beats with my body. I am a poet and appreciate lyrics. And even though I feel more wordsmith than musician, I understand the poetry in music, the story behind it, the rapture and emotion evoked by notes blending together, by bass rhythms and percussion, twinkling harp and piano, and methodical and mathematical guitar. These are the things I feel in my chest, ricocheting out my extremities, buzzing in my head.

Blinding, Florence + the Machine.

Stephanie Anne — Wed, 17 Aug 2011 23:19:27 +0000

Seems that I have been held, in some dreaming state. A tourist in the waking world never quite awake. No kiss, no gentle word, could wake me from this slumber, until I realize that it was you who held me under. Felt in my fist, in my feet, in the hollows of my eyelids; shaking through my skull, through my spine and down through my ribs. No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone. No more calling like a crow for a boy, for a body in the garden. No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love; no more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love; no more dreaming like girl so in love with the wrong world. And I could hear the thunder and see the lightening crack, and all around the world was waking, I never could go back cuz all the walls of dreaming, they were torn wide open, and finally it seemed that the spell was broken. And all my bones began to shake, my eyes flew open; and all my bones began to shake, my eyes flew open. No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone. No more calling like a crow for a boy, for a body in the garden. No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love; no more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love; no more dreaming like a girl so in love with the wrong world. Snow White’s stitching up the circuit board, synapse slipping through the hidden door, Snow White’s stitching up the circuit board. No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone. No more calling like a crow for a boy, for a body in the garden. No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love; no more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love; no more dreaming like a girl so in love with the wrong world. Snow White’s stitching up the circuit boards, synapse slipping through the hidden door, Snow White’s stitching up the circuit boards, synapse slipping through the hidden door.

Florence.

Stephanie Anne — Fri, 12 Aug 2011 20:20:00 +0000

I am listening to Florence + the Machine and feel as if the music is pouring through my body. I can imagine the notes tumbling out of the speakers and falling head first into my ears. Each note gracefully makes its way through my ear drums and causes a nervous reaction in my brain. Small circuits of electricity fire as the drums from “Cosmic Love” pound; the twinkling ignites images of blue static and soft glows behind my corneas; the harp sends spiraling shivers through my extremities. It registers in my emotional center, and a part of me wants to dance a tribal rhythm out, pounding my bare feet upon the floor, but then the controlled self that simply harnesses that energy and focuses it into an intellectual dance as my fingers fly across the keyboard pounding out alpha numeric steps.

It is intriguing that the two songs that I crave are “Cosmic Love” and “My Boy Builds Coffins.” Both songs have strong percussion. Each song, though, uses percussion in different ways. One is the heartbeat to the song, giving life to the experience. The other drives the lyrics swiftly forward, leaving little room for breath or acknowledgement, almost as if she is singing these words in the last moments before eternal sleep. I cannot help the shivers that run through my spine as each of these songs progress to a climatic moment. Florence Welch, with soulful voice and devastating honesty, belts out secret truth, an unknown puzzle come together, from deep within me: “The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out, you left me in the dark. No dawn, no day, I’m always in this twilight, in the shadow of your heart.”

“Cosmic Love” has been a favorite of mine since first listen. The music echoes what I feel; the words wrap around my head and my heart, responding to a deep knowledge, something intrinsic, unintelligible, inexplicable. ”My Boy Builds Coffins” has poetry in the music, with plucking guitar rhythms and constant percussion, it spins circles in my mind, answering thoughts with confusing roundabouts and circular wordplay. It is these features that have led me to Florence’s altar of beauty. Her words, her music, her heart and soul that manifest itself; these call to me like a lonesome song in the midst of a dark night. (“I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too, so I stayed in the darkness with you.“) And the beauty reminds me again and again that I need to let go of my ghosts. Her boy builds coffins, he makes them all day, he made one for himself, and one for her, and one day he’ll make one for me.

GET EXCITED.

Stephanie Anne — Thu, 28 Jul 2011 15:32:48 +0000

There is nothing as great as listening to Chicago bands while getting psyched to go out and canvass in Chicago. It makes the whole experience seem interconnected, a beautiful cycle of giving and taking.

Come out to Clark and Diversey and say hello, and also learn about The Champions program with the American Red Cross.

P.S. More concert updates this upcoming weekend. I promise. Along with some more suggestions. GET EXCITED.

FLIPPING THE LID…

Stephanie Anne — Fri, 22 Jul 2011 03:39:14 +0000

…or some other pun on flipping. I know usually I give YOU the suggestions and point out all the hip, cool concerts going on, but here’s the thing: I want to hear feedback. You should give me some suggestions, present me with albums to review, tell me about some baller shows going on in the Chicagoland area, and I will publicize the shit out of it (and give you credit for leading me to the holy grail). You can either comment on this here post, or if you scroll to the bottom of the page, there might be a little link with my contact information (seriously?!?!? YES, seriously!). Or you can click the “the girl” link at the top of the page, and you get a perdy little picture of me (aw, shucks!).