Just listening for the 784,654th time....and it's just perfect in every way. Just incredible. The only reason it was remade was to scoop up a boatload of money from a more modern and accepting audience. But it is a completely different song than the other one that sounds slapped together in a few takes without a thought for the meaning.
This song captivates me still, after 50+ years. Takes me to the deep South and the poverty of some who lived thru truly hard times. And the powerful spirit of a poor young girl being abandoned to her future with only a red dress and her wits to keep her alive.
She not only stayed alive, she turned her hard beginnings around, became self sufficient, successful and someone with respect for herself. She didn't let the naysayers and judgers stop her. She's the one sitting in the drivers seat at the end.
So, not a song about a poor girl, but a song of hope and how you can rise up no matter how far down you started.
There is a huge difference between a singer who simply belts out a song that is on a page in front of them, and someone who can convey an entire experience with their voice. Telling not just a story with words, but taking you inside it and making you feel like you are there, with their interpretation.
Told y'all, Dynasty, Roc-A-Fella Records, you heard me?
Unstoppable, niggaz! Uhh
Memph Bleek, Amil-lion, Sigel Sigel ya heard?
It's a Dynasty! Who do you believe?
Jigga Man, mo' better, mo' cheddar
Foes knock the man off your Polo sweater
Roll with the R-O-C, A-Fella
Remember me? The teachers used to fail us
Now it's mo' scrilla, hoe killers
Fo'-wheelers, we, gorillas
Oh please feel us, we heat holders
Fightin? Listen boy, Roy Jones couldn't still us
The plot thickens, the block clickin
We got the game tied up, stop trippin
Jigga Man huh? Sigel Sigel y'all
Memph Bleek what? Amil-lion, uhh
Cat be him, El Cap-i-tan
The fire I spit burn down Happyland
Social Club, we unapproachable thugs
Non-social, gone postal
Great aim, harm the arm close to your toast
Like a Don's supposed to, Shawn
I thought I told you, these ain't just vocals
Don't make me take it to the old school
I put holes through your hoes too
Through your clothes to the foes to the nigga close to you
Fuck it, Jigga Man huh? Sigel Sigel y'all
Amil-lion what? Memph Bleek
Y'all dudes don't get it, come widdit
Fifth loaded with slugs that'll rest in your fitted
It's M dot E-M, the Roc be them
Got the mamis sayin look, who can stop be them?
You wan' press your dumb luck, get blam blam-ed up
I crush your larynx, you talk 'bout us nigga
No obituary, I get it critical
You know Memph'll hit the pall bearer liftin you
When I cock the plastic, make 'em drop the casket
When it's hot, I'm blastin, it's the Roc, you bastards
Jigga Man what? Amil-lion yeah
Memph Bleek huh? Sigel Sigel c'mon
Spit acid, c'mon
Witcha bullshit smash hit, get your bullshit smashed in
Niggaz wanna front and get jumped
Bet the ruger give your right side a nice-sized lump
Nigga, we are, the supreme squad
You can dream hard but reality is
We push the dream cars, fuck the queen broads
Puff the green raw, we as real as it get
We the R-O-C dot A dot Fellas
Bitches don't talk to us, the hoes they e-mail us
Nigga, Jigga Man what? Memph Bleek huh?
Amil-lion yeah, Sigel Sigel rap
R (dot) O (dot) C (dot) stop
From Tower to ma and pop, I move out stop
Shower your mom block, move out with glocks
Raw to the cook, look, move out them blocks
Take it to the bucks who be grindin it up
Usually take it to the dubs so they diamond it up
Competition, linin 'em up
Forty-five ACP, let me squeeze lime 'em up
You want, drama what? Well silence it up
Since a young buck, violent as fuck
Wasn't me dog, the high will do it
I used to wild off embalmin fluid
I sent niggaz to the trauma unit
Forty-five or the nine'll do it
I fuck around and have your moms go through it - I'm a beast!
Shit, niggaz always wanna ye shit, then they wanna cease shit
When they motherfuckin peeps hit
But I don't cease nuttin, I decease som'un
I fuck around and have you sleepin underneath som'un
Jigga Man what? Sigel Sigel y'all
Memph Bleek uh, Amil-lion right
Yo, A to the M-I, feminist
Holdin the semi, leave niggaz faced with a dilemmi
Am I, gon' run or stay, can I
Get away no you can't can't I surrendi?
And I, lazy bop, Mercedes hot
In my way through the tunnel like Lady Di
Jigga Man huh? Sigel Sigel y'all
Memph Bleek what? Amil-lion uhh
Unstoppable, niggaz! Uhh
Memph Bleek, Amil-lion, Sigel Sigel ya heard?
It's a Dynasty! Who do you believe?
Jigga Man, mo' better, mo' cheddar
Foes knock the man off your Polo sweater
Roll with the R-O-C, A-Fella
Remember me? The teachers used to fail us
Now it's mo' scrilla, hoe killers
Fo'-wheelers, we, gorillas
Oh please feel us, we heat holders
Fightin? Listen boy, Roy Jones couldn't still us
The plot thickens, the block clickin
We got the game tied up, stop trippin
Jigga Man huh? Sigel Sigel y'all
Memph Bleek what? Amil-lion, uhh
Cat be him, El Cap-i-tan
The fire I spit burn down Happyland
Social Club, we unapproachable thugs
Non-social, gone postal
Great aim, harm the arm close to your toast
Like a Don's supposed to, Shawn
I thought I told you, these ain't just vocals
Don't make me take it to the old school
I put holes through your hoes too
Through your clothes to the foes to the nigga close to you
Fuck it, Jigga Man huh? Sigel Sigel y'all
Amil-lion what? Memph Bleek
Y'all dudes don't get it, come widdit
Fifth loaded with slugs that'll rest in your fitted
It's M dot E-M, the Roc be them
Got the mamis sayin look, who can stop be them?
You wan' press your dumb luck, get blam blam-ed up
I crush your larynx, you talk 'bout us nigga
No obituary, I get it critical
You know Memph'll hit the pall bearer liftin you
When I cock the plastic, make 'em drop the casket
When it's hot, I'm blastin, it's the Roc, you bastards
Jigga Man what? Amil-lion yeah
Memph Bleek huh? Sigel Sigel c'mon
Spit acid, c'mon
Witcha bullshit smash hit, get your bullshit smashed in
Niggaz wanna front and get jumped
Bet the ruger give your right side a nice-sized lump
Nigga, we are, the supreme squad
You can dream hard but reality is
We push the dream cars, fuck the queen broads
Puff the green raw, we as real as it get
We the R-O-C dot A dot Fellas
Bitches don't talk to us, the hoes they e-mail us
Nigga, Jigga Man what? Memph Bleek huh?
Amil-lion yeah, Sigel Sigel rap
R (dot) O (dot) C (dot) stop
From Tower to ma and pop, I move out stop
Shower your mom block, move out with glocks
Raw to the cook, look, move out them blocks
Take it to the bucks who be grindin it up
Usually take it to the dubs so they diamond it up
Competition, linin 'em up
Forty-five ACP, let me squeeze lime 'em up
You want, drama what? Well silence it up
Since a young buck, violent as fuck
Wasn't me dog, the high will do it
I used to wild off embalmin fluid
I sent niggaz to the trauma unit
Forty-five or the nine'll do it
I fuck around and have your moms go through it - I'm a beast!
Shit, niggaz always wanna ye shit, then they wanna cease shit
When they motherfuckin peeps hit
But I don't cease nuttin, I decease som'un
I fuck around and have you sleepin underneath som'un
Jigga Man what? Sigel Sigel y'all
Memph Bleek uh, Amil-lion right
Yo, A to the M-I, feminist
Holdin the semi, leave niggaz faced with a dilemmi
Am I, gon' run or stay, can I
Get away no you can't can't I surrendi?
And I, lazy bop, Mercedes hot
In my way through the tunnel like Lady Di
Jigga Man huh? Sigel Sigel y'all
Memph Bleek what? Amil-lion uhh
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System
Mel And Kim
Mel And Kim
Anti-Hero
Taylor Swift
Taylor Swift
I believe this is another amazingly on point and nuanced commentary on the insanity that follows emotionally abusive relationships. The abuser has no anxieties, no emotional pain, or salience/memory for that matter, so the survivor appears to be the crazy one, obsessed with the abuse and that buzzword that seems to ignite arguments about diagnosing people without a degree, etc. funny how you say the words domestic violence, abuse, abuse survivor and boom the subject changes. Anyways, I especially relate to her midnights becoming afternoons, complex PTSD often leads to this phenomenon, whether due to purposeful sleep deprivation by the abuser, or just hyper vigilance associated with the PTSD, along with the fear of facing people, especially your loved ones, who
Never actually understand, even if they try, because all they see is you, on fire, screaming about the arsonist that no one ever sees, and who has been spreading lies about your alleged mental instability, deceptive personality, etc. the whole time. While the last thing survivors need is more blame, our society supports a narrative that blames the objectively innocent party because the blatantly guilty party has spent their entire lives fabricating a persona and we’re just being human, and human psychology is quite counterintuitive especially in the context of trauma. Look at Amber Heard. Vilified and not believed, regardless of what any abuse survivor could recognize as a fellow survivor instantly. But Johnny depp is a malignant narcissist, a man, and wealthy as all get out. It’s sick.
Alma Matters
Morrissey
Morrissey
The man has pseudo-friends who constantly criticize his actions. They moralize him, "teach" him and advise him to make a significant change in his life, because the way he is and what he does is not what they say it should be. They may find his life lame or immoral. They hold themselves up as role models. The man replies that he will make his own choices and decisions and he does not agree to unconditionally make himself under the influence of questionable quality advice. He justifies this by saying that there is always someone for whom he will be important, no matter what he does and no matter what he is. Although it is not said directly, I read it as meaning that he will always be important to himself in every way and he will always have his own support.
"Everyone is different and maybe that's a good thing, but you exceeded that mark 1000 times" - I remember very well how sad the words I once heard (from my peers and it was in negative context) at school made me feel.
Mad Hatter
Avenged Sevenfold
Avenged Sevenfold
Matt Shadows their lead singer says the song was written as per request from the developers of Call of Duty: Black Ops 4. Watching the initial trailers for the game & looking at production sketches reminded him of the 'S-Town' podcast & its main protagonist, John B. McLemore. Matt also comments specifically on the lyrics: "I decided that the lyrics would shadow McLemore's life." In 2012, antiquarian horologist John B. McLemore sent an email to the staff of the show 'This American Life' asking them to investigate an alleged murder in his hometown of Woodstock, Alabama, a place McLemore claimed to despise. After a year of exchanging emails & several months of conversation with McLemore, producer Brian Reed traveled to Woodstock to investigate. Reed investigated the crime & eventually found that no such murder took place, though he struck up a friendship with the depressed but colorful character of McLemore. He recorded conversations with McLemore & other people in Woodstock. McLemore killed himself by drinking potassium cyanide on June 22, 2015 while the podcast was still in production. In the narrative of the podcast, this occurs at the end of the second episode; subsequent episodes deal with the fallout from McLemore's death while exploring more of McLemore's life & character.
Better Than Feeling Lonely
Olivia O'Brien
Olivia O'Brien
This standalone single is the latest in the artiste's album run out. It was produced by Rogét Chahayed, Taylor Dexter & Wesley Singerman, and released via major streaming platforms on January 1, 2021.