Truthfully, with phone’s sufficing as a traveling calendar and planner, the only reason I keep up a calendar is so that when the world ends explorers will know the last year society was the way it was. I don’t scratch off the days as they come so unless my neighbors do, those explorers might never know the exact date the radiation finally got too thick. Who has thoughts about calendars in regards to the world ending you might be asking? The answer is me, at three in the morning, both in a cold sweat of anxiety and a sweltering heat from being unable to lie still. I hope whatever time you’re reading this we can all be comfortable with thoughts of death and destruction together. Welcome to earache, leave one earbud out today just in case someone calls your name. 1:34 a.m. By the time it’s one in the morning but you’ve been trying to sleep for an hour. The time has come to buckle in for a long night. You make the bold choice to turn the light back on and make your worry work for you. I’m not one to feel optimistic late at night, the sun goes down and after a peaceful period of sunset I start questioning every decision I’ve ever made Talking Heads’ ‘how did I get here’ style. It’s an exhausting, literally waking nightmare and the only solace has been James Bay’s ‘Pink Lemonade.’ Something is classic and Bowie about it, minus some drugged out bravado and enticingly odd vocal style. Bay’s voice is kind, but that’s not to say it blends in. I wouldn’t say anything about him is mediocre especially considering how mind blowing it was to listen to this song with one earbud in, then with both, then with other earbud in and the first one out. “Don’t suffocate my heart, I don’t know what I’m feeling.” The song is surrounding and conflicted. The ricochet of desires and actions blends into a frenzied apathy and it’s like take-off and landing all in one. Most importantly is how ‘Pink Lemonade’ is like soaring, soaring through some anxious turbulence, but soaring all the same. 1:54 a.m. Despite the fact you’ve watched four episodes in your mind of a Netflix original that’s been in your queue since it came out, only twenty minutes have passed. It’s only six minutes till it’s late enough to label a good night’s sleep a complete farce. I don’t have a six-minute song but since my head is constantly racing six minutes would feel like an eternity. Instead it’s time for a slow-burn matcha of a song, ‘Plastic Hamburgers’ by Fantastic Negrito. I, like most people am wasting away at night just waiting for someone to save rock’n’roll because god forbid the genre is improved or changed or innovated in any way. Well since every rock song you love stole from a POC artist you probably don’t know anything about ‘Plastic Hamburgers’ uses blues artists of the past to influence a completely new track. It’s invigorating and catchy as hell. It’s everything the Black Keys are lacking combined with everything Hanni El Katib already has, along with vocals unmatched by anyone in rock right now. To be freed of constraints you have to give new things a chance, which is why the six minutes before 2 am are the best time of night. In those six minutes anxiety falls away briefly and there’s an ounce of clarity, but then of course, the six minutes are up. 2:09 a.m. You’re now considering messaging every person you’ve known and revealing some great truth about yourself to them or apologizing for how it ended or asking them, ‘do you still think about me?’ Not only this, but you’ve started an album on shuffle unknowingly and it’s too late to go back and start the album over. I’m not one to question the order of an album. I may know a better order, but I won’t talk shit because the album is in the order it’s in for a reason nine times out of ten. In no particular order is what shuffle is all about, but methodically speaking a particular order is critical. So even though it’s track seven of ‘Tearing at the Seams’ by Nathaniel Rateliff & The Night Sweats it’s only right to start with ‘Intro.’ That urge to text everyone comes from the deeply seeded 21st century human drive to feel accepted. “Tell me that you want me, tell me that you need me, tell me that you love me.” It’s more of a beg than a confident demand, and boy I don’t question myself more than at Dracula’s house-calling hours. I get the feeling Nathaniel keeps later hours then me, so maybe we’re in the same boat. It’s only late at night you start making wild hair demands of yourself, planning who you might confront tomorrow or what three languages you’re going to learn or the exact time I’m going to get my shit together. Damn I’ve been talking about myself in the second person this entire time like some kind of pretentious asshole. Well ‘Be There’ is exactly one of those demands, again there’s perhaps a lose confidence but the beg is underlying. “I want you to be there for me.” Unlike the previous self-titled album, the sense of assuredness is gone and has been replaced by a cry out for any kind of reassurance at all. The music is desperate and when it cools off it still might burn your mouth. Drinking temperature is perfectly achieved during ‘Babe I Know’. It seems like a full acceptance of all situations, whether gladly or regrettably is debatable. “I feel I’m barely holding on.” The horn section rings true and the wail reveals itself again knowing how much you missed it. At times it can seem like the cup is taking too long to drink which occurs for the first time during ‘Coolin’ Out’. It’s the startling moment I remember what time it really is and internally moan wishing for the sweet release of sleep. Though the song isn’t boring in relation to other songs, it is boring in relation to every other song on the record. Come the title track ‘Tearing at the Seams’ to the rescue. The slow creep towards the top floor and built-for jukebox vocals bite away nails finger by finger. A certain horn section of the song can be attributed to that out of body falling sensation felt at around 2:36am. Back to a lull with ‘Shoe Boot’ if it were all instrumental it might be great but yet again a case of the ‘been there, done that’ strikes, I’ll take ‘Look it Here’ thank you. Another implicit truth springs free with ‘Boiled Over’ about how we seek confirmation on even our negative conclusions about ourselves. “Tell me I’ve been boiled away.” Yes reassure me I’m just as big of a mess as I think I am. It’s nearly painful to hear and worse to think about, but those brushes on the snare soothe you just enough to look past it. Influences of Stevie Wonder and Chicago peek around the corner in ‘A Little Honey’ but the track is overall forgettable. The hook catches your pillow out from under you again on ‘You Worry Me’ especially when Rateliff mumbles out “You seem tired today, were you up all night afraid of what the future might bring?” which is slightly Deadpool-esque in its fourth wall break with the time now being 2:52am. The desire to let go of it all comes through strong nonetheless and the style is refreshing after tracks start blending together. The apathy regarding outward outlooks carries over to ‘I’ll Be Damned’ where despite the mad-grab for emotion still fights for carelessness. “Cause nobody cares, and they never did anyway.” The horns take the wheel from the usual guitar and drive the track forward. Funny enough they get lost in a Blues Brothers town and catch a flat tire on a pair of train tracks in ‘Baby I Lost My Way, (But I’m Going Home)’. It rattles with a jazzy vibe and stretches to encompass late night lounges and last calls at the bar. It strikes as a man who finally worked up the courage to blow the room away instead of sounding like drunken karaoke occurring when the room was just heating up. ‘Still Out There Running’ is reminiscent of ‘Wasting Time.’ “I ain't grown and I ain't changed at all.” Maybe he knows the similarities in sound but maybe he’s afraid of change just like the rest of us. To overanalyze the lyrics would be to ‘I am the walrus’ the song and nothing’s worse than speculative gossip about people’s real emotions. The morning nears and ‘Say It Louder’ is nearly reflective of that. “I said, hey, I'm all cried out. Hey, I'm all tired out.” Even with that admittance the song takes some advice to the bank, a raw and honest change of heart might be how every night should end, but something in the song is still held back. The wail is subdued, the drums keep their distance from crashes, and the horn players haven’t made a tip in a few songs. There couldn’t be a better place to end then with ‘Hey Mama.’ It may only be March but it’s hard to imagine a song knocking emotions farther out of the park. At the moment where reassurance is so desperately needed a biting, “You ain't gone far enough, you ain't worked hard enough, you ain't run far enough to say, it ain't gonna get any better.” Is worthy of a good cry and the song is so packed with perfect tones and (just as it should be) an unrelenting wail of catharsis and depreciation. The song is so good I can’t exactly quantify it because it happens so little anymore. To listen to it is the only way justice can be served. The only reassurance can come from within, but if the capability to do so might take a couple more shuffles to find. 3:33 a.m. A triad of threes is time’s equivalent to misery. I’m not sure what day of the week is it and I couldn’t tell you what I did yesterday but a brain running on overdrive needs time to revel in what at this hour appears to be my mistake of a life. What better way to stick it to the man then with ‘Say Amen (Saturday Night)’ Panic! at the Disco’s new and invigorating single. Somehow album after band re-assignment the hits keep coming. Something about letting go is a relief and no song in recent memory embraces letting go more than Say Amen. What a wonderful future of late-night analysis to come with a full album on the way. Beautifully in tandem with this track is the age old adage, there ain’t no rest for the wicked. 4:00 a.m. The physical lights have been off for over an hour now but the mental lights have been brilliantly and cruelly flashing without pause. It’s so late by now I’m telling myself my age old adage that time is a concept of human perception and that existence is pain and being unable to achieve rest doesn’t matter because we could very well all die tomorrow. Gee what fun chain of train cars. Rest assured (pun intended) sleep is minutes away now. The brain can in fact eventually be coerced into sleep even if it panics again at 8 am to wake me up. At least a piece of my mind clings only to ‘Welcome To Hard Times’ by Moby. A song to lie bleeding on the beach while the tide washes away your blood reserves to. High tide and hard times might be the only peace I’ve gotten all night. 8:38 a.m. Slept in. Remember that germs are in caffeine drips and all over the internet. It might be too late for me, but Jeff Bridges is going to be really upset if you don’t just get some fucking sleep. Now If you want to hear all the songs mentioned today you can find them here
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Listen. No really listen. While visual masterpieces are happening before your eyes, composers create the backbone of a film. Star Wars, my life’s biggest inspiration and joy, would be nothing without the work John Williams did to make it the space opera we know now (hence the opening crawl.) Movies might not be my truest passion but they are my heart’s content, I know about writing and timing, filmmaking I don’t know a damn thing about. So because the Oscars are on Sunday and I’ve seen all nine nominees for Best Picture, I’m going to tell you who should win based off nothing but the score (in the context of the movie.) Welcome to this semi-pandering and overly-telegraphed Oscars edition of earache. My list will be going from 9 to 1 in order of least to most deserving to win, my choices are opinion based, however, I have made these choices based off of, emotions invoked, complexity, timing and memorability. 9) Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri – Composed by Carter Burwell In a movie that purposely throws curve balls at your head, the score should do one of two things; either it under-performs to further amplify the shock factor, or it should play as aggressively as the film itself. A mix of both might even be suitable, but what the score shouldn’t be is forgettable. Considering the sheer amount of sucker punches dealt to the viewer the score doesn’t elevate emotions but allows for them to quickly be brushed aside and forgotten. Instead of using undertones and the likes of woodwinds, Burwell opts for the repetition of a similar, folksy, nearly camp-fire like tune. The movie provides multiple opportunities for a generally more hardcore sound. The most intense scenes are left uneventful simply because the music underplays the heights of the moments. The most depressing scenes are left forgotten because no regretful or melancholy cues are lifted. More than anything this score invokes a deep sense of frustration which leaves no room to process emotions like a normal human. The use of the same rhythm and movements over and over feels out of place because the same music is used in unalike scenes, demolishing any sense of connection in meaning. Timing is generally okay, sans poor emotional timing. Most memorable use of music - Sadly for Carter Burwell, the most memorable use of music is ‘His Master’s Voice’ by Monsters Of Folk which is the song used when Dixon (Sam Rockwell) is chucking a man out of a window. It all feels very dramatic, however it losses more points than it gains because it’s as if the song is trying to make you sympathize with Dixon. Don’t throw people of out windows, even if you hate them. 8) The Post – Composed and conducted by John Williams In a movie made to win awards, who better to get than the man John Williams? In a movie I didn’t particularly like, who better to add redeeming qualities than the man John Williams? Well not even the (perhaps) greatest composer of all time could salvage this movie with a killer score. The entire score feels like a catalogue of left-over songs from other movies that John Williams did. This only adds to the overall sense that every plot is supposed to be the main plot and not just a subtopic. Certain songs are composed beautifully and would fit great in a journalism thriller like ‘Spotlight’ and others would fit well in the narrative of Katherine Graham taking charge but flipping between the two for two hours becomes a reason to overthink every scene. There are very few points that feel perfectly timed and unless TIME-CRUNCH is an emotion than there’s simply nothing elevating the performances. If each scene stood alone the score is brilliant, altogether it feels like Spielberg had John on the phone, told him about the movie, and John said, “I’ll email you this score I did for a movie that never got made.” And then he picked up his paycheck. This is hard to be saying considering how much I love Williams’ work but laziness isn’t going to get you an award even if you’re the best of the best. Most memorable use of music – ‘Deciding to Publish’ brilliantly builds tension around Graham’s (Meryl Streep) decision by utilizing the cuts between faces over phone-lines, slowly, slowly, and then resolve. To print we go. The song then switches gears to a furious speed and intensity which pairs well with the frenzy occurring on screen. This is the only moment in the film where the score aligns with the movie to make the expected cinema gold. 7) Get Out – Music by Michael Abels Now sociopolitical drama or modern thriller or your 2018 best picture winner or horror movie, whatever you call it matters not. What is important is the tension, the exemplary writing and directing advances the tension in this movie to new heights. The score, at the very best, does its job. In lieu of every horror movie you’ve ever seen, the sound does ¾ of the heavy lifting at the beginning. Chris (Daniel Kaluuya) goes outside for a smoke and then he looks around. You’re feeling uneasy about this situation. BAM! The stringed section is off the hook, “Oh shit!” goes your brain, “Oh shit Chris run!” There are multiple scenes that use the expected technique of musical tension and surprise. This movie hardly needs to add any ingenuity, but its score doesn’t accurately reflect its genius. Timing is of course the score’s strongest suit. It gets panic across, but the movie would be smarter without blatant jump-scares. The heaviest losses are sustained in complexity, the score barely gains millimeters in comparison to other thrillers. In comparison with other movies in the category it barely has a foothold. Most memorable use of music – “Sink into the floor.” The movie at this point, guarantees you’re in its grasp, with nowhere to run. ‘Hypnosis’ gently eases into the water before pulling your ankles out from under you and crashing you into the water. It’s absolutely stunning audibly, exactly when it needs to be, and it’s ideal for the moment Chris and the viewer’s worst fears are realized. 6) Lady Bird – Music by Jon Brion I’m doubtful that any movie before has so impeccably gotten endearing across so simplistically. The score pivots between moments of exploration and triumph and then back to a sense of inescapable self. A declining piano scale for moments when Lady Bird (Saoirse Ronan) becomes just Christine in her life again, then a pep-in-her-step whimsical use of horns and guitar for those moments she is the fearless Lady Bird. Something is so enchanting about the score and it allows you to feel how Lady Bird feels, about her home town, her boyfriend, her family, and her friends. You feel her moments of growth and you’re melancholy during her moments of self-realization. What the score encapsulates more than anything is the hope of her character, and the optimism despite her uncertainties. The score is exacting in its timing and leaves no room to question how Lady Bird is feeling, which works in favor of the movie. This score is really great, and emotionally it nails the characters but it doesn’t stack up against the other nominees. It also gets points for making me actually enjoy a Dave Mathews song. Most memorable use of music – In one of the movie’s most poignant moments between Lady Bird and her mom, 'Model Homes' plays as they go open-house to open-house, looking at homes on ‘the right side of the tracks’. The piano scale is used here to show just how much Lady Bird is Christine in this moment with her mom, how there’s nothing but transparency in this activity. The emotions here are so recognizable from Lady Bird and her mom because they both have similar and different desires and you feel for both of them, a feat not to be taken lightly. 5) Dunkirk – Music by Hans Zimmer Scores like ‘Dunkirk’ are a brilliant example of why digital clocks are better. An hour and a half of nearly ceaseless ticking, or the boom of heart racing, really get to your psyche. The sounds in this movie bend you to the will of Christopher Nolan’s masterplan. The endless anxiety begins to feel so routine it drives you to insanity’s cliff edge. Zimmer flounces the tick of a clock during moments when you know the soldiers don’t have enough time, when something is coming, and in moments of uncertainty, and it causes an intense unease to the point where everything feels too loud. For moments when time is running out or when the next move of a character is unfathomably important, a heartbeat pulses in your ear as if it were your own. The pivot is nearly always immediate between this ticking and the heartbeat, with only moments to breathe when a line or two of dialogue is spoken. The sheer brilliance of music causing such discomfort and panic that help to plant you in the shoes of a soldier in the worst situations imaginable is executed without pause or flaw. The issue is how unbearable it really is to listen to. No timing can really be compared to the seamless meld of clocks and bombs or pulses and sweat but if the film had been any longer it might have been torture. Most memorable use of music – The Mole lasted a week, so by the time oil is spreading in the water you already know what’s coming. ‘The Oil’ invokes such dread with its repetition you’re literally just anticipating when everything will go to hell. The shot work between Farrier (Tom Hardy), the boat rescuing oil coated soldiers, and men struggling to abandon ship pairs with continuous musical escalation, almost a stutter, like the song can’t complete a sentence. Its climax is brutal exactly like the set piece, and it makes the scene impossible to shake, let alone forget. 4) Phantom Thread – Music by Jonny Greenwood Becoming impervious to silence might be an unspoken vice. ‘Phantom Thread’ forces you to sit in silence for long bouts in between sudden outbursts. The vision of the film is so clear yet every scene leaves you wanting to know more, begging for any sort of resolve. The score is fearless in doing the same. Every note aches with mystery and craft, every pause holds a meaning and the timing is never conclusive in its nature. The piano reigns with elegance and piety much like Reynolds (Daniel Day-Lewis) himself. Every song stitches unerring to the next. Without music this film would be hollow, maybe too silent or even too loud, the score brings such an airy balance to each and every scene without fault. The mood always painstakingly precise like the skill required to sew a dress. The problem with this score at times is that it overcompensates for the film. There truthfully aren’t any performance gaps to be filling in despite how hard the score tries to do so. The overall decadence and sophistication the score brings are glamorous but even the beauty in the music pales in comparison the grandeur happening in the Reynolds’ house. Most memorable use of music – Who said you had to give up your work for love or vice versa? No really who said it, because they were right. The ending is so honest despite however much you may squirm in protest, and no song better epitomizes this than ‘Phantom Thread IV’ the most stripped down of the versions. The most stripped down of endings too. It feels concise and dangerous, much like our lovers. However disrupted you feel the song haunts the scene with its presence without ever attempting to distract you from the scene, as if you could block it out if you wanted to. 3) Darkest Hour – Music by Dario Marianelli – Piano by Vikingur Olafsson Now despite the general overall lack of real plot in ‘Darkest Hour’ the score compliments the movie so handsomely the plot is made to feel high-stakes and on-your-feet. Without the score the movie wouldn’t be a best picture at all. Each keystroke is syncopated with Churchill (Gary Oldman) and exudes an undeniable British resolve. In the slowest points the music pushes onward with a frantic timetable set before it. The score follows suit with lighter strokes and fainter strings when Churchill is shown in his most human moments, proving them to be honest reflections of his feelings and doubts. The music moves, it tugs the film along and uplifts scenes you couldn’t care less about. In fact it’s the only score that is superior to the film, which is why it’s ranked so highly. Not only is the score beautifully timed and complex in every way it needs to be, the score makes the movie better. I have no doubts the movie would be legitimately awful without the score to save the day. Most memorable use of music – Parliament. Frenzied white men in a desperate moment of weakness. ‘Where Is Winston?’ throws you right in alongside the most memorable shot in the movie. It immediately sets the tone and pacing of the next two hours and puts you in a mindset that buzzes with ‘hurry up!’ It’s a stroke of scoring genius, and the pertinence shouldn’t be dismissed because the film’s downfalls. 2) Call Me By Your Name – Various Artists with original songs by Sufjan Stevens At times it can be frightening how powerfully the soundtrack for ‘Call Me By Your Name’ is embedded within the film. The Italian influence and the 80’s acid wash are both thrilling and articulate. It’s a soundtrack worthy of the goosebumps it gives you because it navigates the pain and longing of love long before Elio’s (Timothèe Chalamet) desires become a reality. The agony of pining is so forward with ‘Lady Lady Lady’ by Giorgio Moroder & Joe Esposito and with ‘Futile Devices’ by Sufjan Stevens. Not only are Elio’s emotions translated but the aches and joys of the warmth in summertime bleed through the cracks of every piano piece as well as in the silent moments of contemplation and patience. Songs with words aren’t always easy to blend into such a meaningful and arresting story but each moment is accentuated with music as if the songs were written for the film itself. The soundtrack’s capability to ensure you remember what song was playing in each scene is an emotional bludgeon yet it makes Elio and Oliver’s (Armie Hammer) story timeless. Most memorable use of music – Sufjan Stevens’ original song ‘Mystery of Love’ is blinding in its reflection of the film’s love story. It enfolds the uncertainty and the sureness and most of all the sense of never wanting something to end. There’s something so touching and heartbreaking about it because you know there’s no way their love can last forever in the physical but it’ll never really leave either of them. The sureness and the subtle confidence pairs with an agonizing fear of the end, it makes Oliver and Elio too real to bear, and it makes their love all the more winsome. 1) The Shape of Water – Composed and conducted by Alexander Desplat Where to begin with the musical favorite for Best Picture? The whimsy maybe, or the everlasting optimism perhaps? Nothing could possibly come before the simple fact that music can connect anyone, including women and fishmen. The understanding of this score is so forward and romantic, like a vacation to Paris (in the rain of course.) It’s completely fantastical and mystical like creatures from the depths of the oceans. When stakes are high the pace picks up, when moments are tender we fly back into the embrace of a lover. Every chime is timed just right, and every beat is happening alongside our lovers. Elissa’s (Sally Hawkins) passion and fortitude couples with the score like old dancing partners and it makes the movie shine. You feel her every emotion even without hearing her speak because her eyes translate every ounce of her soul, and the music lifts her up ensuring you don’t question her feelings. The layers of sound and depth are all-encompassing and leave every scene connected and ethereal. Most importantly are the frightening tones made when we see Strickland (Michael Shannon) and the gentle and loving tones we hear when we are with the Amphibian Man (Doug Jones) because it alerts us of who we should really be afraid of. The score is perfect in every way for this movie, it never missteps and it leaves a tender feeling in your heart. Most memorable use of music – The reason why this score wins above all others in the category is surprisingly simple. The film’s use of music to connect two beings who cannot speak to one and other, in moments of affection songs bring them closer because they can both understand the emotions of music. ‘You’ll Never Know’ by Renee Fleming plays in a moment where Elissa cannot express to the Amphibian Man how much he means to her, but they are still able to dance and while they are dancing they are simply aware of the others feelings. It’s a lightning strike moment, and it just proves the power of music in life, and especially in love. Not only does it get across the deeper meanings of the movie, it plays with the concepts and constraints we place upon love when in fact love cannot be shaped or decided by us. What could be more memorable than that? Well those are your nominees for Best Picture, I’ll be back soon to talk about something less glamorous. For now, enjoy the show, may the best picture win, and remember germs are in severed fingers, oily water, on the internet, in poisonous mushrooms, all over the badges of racist cops, crawling over government secrets, on thick cigars, peaches, tea cups, and arm casts. If you want to hear all the most memorable songs mentioned you can listen to them here |