/// love that has slipped through the fingers

BBC Review: The Shout Out Louds' stunning brand of delicate melodic music could be described as a...

With the release of Howl Howl Gaff Gaff the Shout Out Louds are set to overtake The Arcade Fire as the most talked about new band in Britain. The Swedish five piece's stunning brand of delicate melodic music could be described as a softer version of the Canadians' chaotic indie sounds;they've only just started to ripple the surface of the music scene but expect them to make waves very soon.

This atmospheric music initially has the subtle air of optimistic hope that surrounds a new relationship. Listen more closely and you see a broken heart expressing a tender philosophical outlook on love that has slipped through the fingers.

Let the sentiment of this album warm the cockles of your heart with beautifully executed tracks such as "Go Sadness" and "The Comeback", which are reminiscent of The Flaming Lips' music and the vocal style of Mercury Rev. This remarkable debut will draw out empathy in everyone who's lucky enough to hear it.

/// Jack Smith, July 12, 2005.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/music/reviews/gfn8

/// linger

///do you have to let it linger? 

DO YOU HAVE TO? DO YOU HAVE TO? 

DO YOU HAVE TO LET IT LINGER?///

/// benoit pioulard

/// benoit pioulard - kids are getting younger ///

/// nasta hornstull

/// lion face boy

/// seabear - lion face boy ///

but you have to be careful. don't let the bitter bird land on you.

/// for the love of four cranes

/// taken by johannes. last last thursday: making pancakes, drawing storyboards and crying some. ///

/// malibu

/// sour girl

/// semla fail

/// axel and johannes  ///

/// hollow balls with more holes

THE
JUSTICE
LEAGUE
IS
OVER.

/// AT

i just began to grasp how everything is much bigger than we think it is. in every sense: a person's infinite being, your "perfect" musical taste, wonders (and wondering about wonders), and parallel events happening at the same time.

this boy, i can't put my finger on him. that's why i think he is always in the landscape of my mind. stunningly handsome, neurotic, nervous hands, suspicious eyes. a long, bellowing black coat paired with a baseball cap and a red rucksack. we are both the stars of any given show, shameless and apologetic, the social butterflies. from the beginning, i could not put him in any category in my head and it disoriented me. he was there, he was not there, he was this person oh but wait, he is not that person. like jay gatsby, but younger. like macaulay culkin, but older. like a character from a 90's sitcom. charming, cool as a cat, sly as a fox. serious, sarcastic, feather-light, joyful. i feel like there is a wall surrounding him that i just can't break through. is he for real? what does he like? what does he want? what is he made of? and every time i try with my relentless questions he would always answer with an idiom or a figure of speech. "let's go, i have ants in my pants!"

and suddenly, there. i found him. the idioms became real sentences: "you are not sad, i was here with you through it all, you are not sad!" "sometimes being busy is good because it keeps your mind off things." "huhuhu! you can't just sit beside the window and look outside and cry! huhuhu!" "i can't go running around worrying about true love."

"but, what do you want?" i asked him. "what do you really, really want?" i waited.

"i don't know," he finally answered, looking off into space.

suddenly, he is as solid as one can be, no longer flitting off and flying hands, sputtering proverbs and figures of speech to avoid a real connection. suddenly, this feeling of sudden intimacy. in more ways than one.

and then suddenly, he is gone again. hidden behind proverbs, nervous hands and his boyness. "i am an asshole," he said looking at me sideways with his pseudo-suspicious eyes.

and maybe he is, but he is also a friend.

/// this is what it means to be in sweden

During the shooting of The Virgin Spring, we were up in the northern province of Dalarna in May and it was early one morning, about half past seven. The landscape there is rugged, and our company was working beside a little lake in the forest. It was very cold, about 30 degrees, and from time to time a few snowflakes fell through the gray, rain-dimmed sky. The company was dressed in a strange variety of clothing–raincoats, oil slickers, Icelandic sweaters, leather jackets, old blankets, coachmen's coats, medieval robes. Our men had laid some ninety feet of rusty, buckling rail over the difficult terrain, to dolly the camera on. We were all helping with the equipment–actors, electricians, make-up men, script girl, sound crew–mainly to keep warm. Suddenly someone shouted and pointed toward the sky. Then we saw a crane high above the fir trees, and then another, and then several cranes, floating majestically in a circle above us. We all dropped what we were doing and ran to the top of a nearby hill to see the cranes better. We stood there for a long time, until they turned westward and disappeared over the forest. And suddenly I thought: this is what it means to make a movie in Sweden.

This is what can happen, this is how we work together with our old equipment and little money, and this is how we can suddenly drop everything for the love of four cranes floating above the treetops.

/// Ingmar Bergman, Introduction, Four Screenplays of Ingmar Bergman, pp. 13-14

/// i will never be your friend

/// what i want

TRUE 

AND

EVERLASTING

/// semla 06

/// fear

/// Thomas, Phoenix

/// the important thing

"The important thing is this: I am missing a piece. A piece as real as an arm or an eye. I always knew something was missing, that I was a shadow at noon, melting away beneath my own two feet. Once I feel my Sealskin round me, once I press it to my skin, I shall be whole."
/// Corinna, The Folk Keeper

/// the important thing

The important thing is this: I am missing a piece. A piece as real as an arm or an eye. I always knew something was missing, that I was a shadow at noon, melting away beneath my own two feet. Once I feel my Sealskin round me, once I press it to my skin, I shall be whole.

/// Corinna, The Folk Keeper