Crocodile, his eyes just lit up. Crocodile, and you talk about meeting Mr. The lawn was our rhymes and the potholes were the pieces missing. We grew up around neighborhoods where there was an epidemic. We knew drug dealers and some of us actually stood on the corner ourselves. That was an important record, because I think that sorta signed how we were gonna approach writing rhymes, in terms of style. It was never planned for Jungle Brothers to be on that first album.
Tommy Boy was loving how the album was going, but they felt like we needed an introduction song. Mase and Paul had already mentioned trying something with one of the Funkadelic records. We did that record like it was nothing. We were surprised how big it got. Sometimes the simplest thing is what people can relate to. We were just being ourselves. Robert Adam Mayer.
Newswire Powered by. I took a round midcenter, just right of my navel. Another penetrated my left shoulder. Beast screamed. I fell at Derek's feet and he leaped over me, still attacking Peregrinus, firing the weapon that shattered the stillness of the room and boomed against my eardrums. Bethany rose from the Devil, the priestess' face and clothes covered with blood. The Devil stared sightlessly at the beams overhead, her swords out to the sides, her legs bent and limp, like a fallen angel of death on the clay of the earth.
She no longer had a throat, just the bones of a spine. She was no longer a threat. Bethany stood beside me, her arms out to the sides, screaming. Or, I was pretty sure she was screaming. Her head was back, her mouth was open, and her eyes glittered with fury. But the gun ripped into the air, stealing the sound, and then there was a flash of light, the scintillation of smoky wings, a flash of blacked snake tail.
Peregrinus pulled reality around him in a wash of flashing energies. He was gone, the bodies of the Devil and Batildis with him, shadows on the move.
Derek raced after, his men chasing behind. I lay on the floor, cradling the Judge, the weapon that I hadn't even fired yet, as Derek's men raced after their boss. I was feeling too weak for the wounds-unless a round had hit something important, had bisected or ruptured something.
Like the descending aorta or the big artery that feeds the liver. I couldn't remember the name of the artery. The cramps that resulted from playing with time hit me and I curled tight in the fetal position, gasping. I said.
She didn't answer, which could mean something good or could mean something bad. I was facing the front of the room, and I saw Bethany stop screaming. She ripped the silver chain from Leo's wrists and ankles and picked him up, placing him below the thing on the wall, holding the MOC's head like a baby's or a lover's. As she raised back up, she paused and tore the thing's leg open. With her teeth. A trickle of black blood fell from the fresh wound into Leo's mouth.
He shook as if an electric pulse had hit him. He vamped out and swallowed. He didn't respond and she slapped him hard, rocking his head, before adding another trickle. And another. He took a breath, a wet, grinding sound like rubber over sand. She repeated the action with Katie.
All three vamps were stirring. Bethany then ripped her own wrist and offered it to Leo, who latched on and drank. Katie crawled up Bethany and bit into her throat.
Three mostly naked and blood-smeared vamps, all with their torsos cut open and gaping, feeding on the priestess. If I'd had breath, I might have said so, or laughed. Instead, the candlelight fluttered and telescoped down into a pinhole of vision, centered on the thing on the wall. It was staring at me. His gift is his song, and this one's for us. And it has a sad beginning and end! When I broke up with my high school boyfriend yes, he had blue eyes , I played this on repeat, and to this day it still makes me cry.
I love elaborate production, but there's just something so melancholy in how simple this song is. The way it's structured makes you feel like you're pacing the floor, waiting for your love to come back, and Lou Reed's voice is so wistful. I'll queue it up whenever I want to feel like a moody teen just discovering "real" music and eyeliner. In high school my "cool" English teacher gave my class an out-of-the-box assignment: Find a song about "the one that got away. I came across this Bill Withers classic and connected immediately—and it's gotten me through every breakup since.
Also, perhaps her saddest. This is one of my favorites—it reminds you of a breakup where you stop and wonder, Wait, why TF is he so calm about all this?! Haunting and sad at the same time. Someone once told me the term "skinny love" means when two people are deeply connected but the love just isn't there. Whether that's true or not, it's the perfect emo song when you still want to listen to great indie rock. Honestly, any Lana song fits the bill for a sad love song.
Even though this one is actually tame for her, it makes me cry every time particularly this live version. Sure, the idea of being nothing without your romantic partner is not a particularly feminist sentiment, but that's what I like about it. It's so earnest in its neediness and longing.
It's Lana at her best with the lush instrumental in the background, nonsensical references to vanilla and gold, and Americana imagery. I blame my dad for my Chicago obsession, with its sweeping ballads and powerful love songs.
So much so that I went to see former lead singer Peter Cetera in concert by myself last year. This might be stating the obvious, but "Call Your Girlfriend" really hits postbreakup. A series of events leads Jackson to—spoiler warning—die by suicide, and Ally performs this emotional song during a tribute for him. Don't let another day begin. Won't let the sunlight in. Oh, I'll never love again," Ally sings. This sounds like an upbeat folk song about birds.
In fact, it is about how tragic it is when good relationships have to end. Sad bird content is an important part of adult breakups.
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