#the mountain goats

my fic titles playlist

okay so most (if not all) of my fic titles come from song lyrics because what am i if not an edgy tumblr writer. the song doesn’t always even necessarily relate to the fic but the line i use for the title does so anyway, here is a compiled playlist.

me listening to this playlist all the way through:

[image courtesy of @/relatablepicturesoflisasimpson]

any way you want it – journey

demolition lovers – my chemical romance

not that kinda girl – my chemical romance

home wrecker – marina and the diamonds

tongue tied – grouplove

pumped up kicks – foster the people

attention reader – pencey prep

no children – the mountain goats

teen idle – marina and the diamonds

praise you – hannah grace

be my daddy – lana del rey

transparent soul – willow

hey ya – eden

of all the gin joints in all the world – fall out boy

running up that hill – kate bush

experiment iv – kate bush

in the heat of the moment – noel gallagher’s high flying birds

babooshka – kate bush

easy – lionel richie

living on a prayer – bon jovi

highway star – deep purple

ghost of you – ella henderson

back to black – amy winehouse

the hole – beetlejuice: the musical (demos)

blinding lights – the weeknd

tragician – frank iero and the cellabration

i slept with someone in fall out boy and all I got was this song written about me – fall out boy

road to nowhere – talking heads

joyriding – frank iero and the cellabration

little talks – of monsters and men

four leaf clover – the kooks

lifeboat – heathers: the musical

roll with it – oasis

all you ever wanted – rag ‘n’ bone man

to be treated rite – terry reid

people are strange – the doors

our house – madness

dosed – red hot chili peppers

if – red hot chili peppers

themountianquotes:

And you showed me a thing or two about power in its purest form

Le Baiser (1868), Carolus-Duran / Feed This End, the Mountain Goats

epersonae:

ndreblogs:

epersonae:

emptyheartfoolbrain:

I’m Heretic Pride sun / Transcendental Youth moon.


I know people think I’m a Tallahassee in All Hail West Texas, but that’s just when I’m dealing with a dark depression.


Also, if you’re reading this I agree with the OP

Go To Therapy!

@joelmillers@emi–rose

THIS IS “BEAT THE CHAMP” ERASURE

YOU’RE RIGHT (I am not the same level of fan, but I definitely was thinking as I posted, “what’s that album with the wrestling songs, because probably that one”)

Update,@joelmillers and I have decided:

  • You have been reeeeeeally into pro wrestling at some point, or you were an English major.
  • You are gay.
  • You have been through Some Shit, and/or you are Too Old For This Shit.
  • You are in therapy for that shit, keep it up.

image

John Darnielle can’t shut up, and that’s a good thing.

I listened to one Mountain Goats album closely, which is “All Hail West Texas” - for those who haven’t had the pleasure, it’s one of his press-record-on-a-boombox albums where he wraps short stories into verse/chorus over solo acoustic guitar - the last one he recorded on his boombox, in fact, and I’d wager that it’s a piece of equipment that for LD/MGs fans has the legend and weight of Van Halen’s Frankenstrat, or Cormac McCarthy’s typewriter. “All Hail West Texas” was suggested to me by someone who gladly wasted a couple years on me, as did I her; the album has not stuck nearly as much as the others she pressed on me, but I’m always reminded of the commute into my shitty retail job, taking the bus to the subway, listening to songs where even the tape hiss sounded plaintive.

But here’s the thing about this book; clearly you don’t have to like JD’s music or even know it exists to enjoy it, or to recognize the skill in its construction, pacing, and full-on weirdness. If this was “debut novelist John Darnielle” (which some reviews claim is true, and then someone’s all “uhhh he wrote a 33 1/3 book which was basically a novella” and to that I say anyone who gets the chance to write a 33 and 1/3 book and comes back with fiction can deal with being called a debut novelist a few years later), this would be just as menacing, uneasy, and fluid of a novel. Its surface is smooth as glass but it curves in so many strange directions like an avant-garde opera hall facade - finely tuned and fussed-over prose, a character whose regular plunges down the memory hole and laps run through his own thoughts are perfectly contextualized (he’s a scarred recluse who spends his day writing letters and turning emotions over in the rock polisher of his skull) and an effectively rendered portrait of childhood unhappiness and instability that may not mirror JD’s but certainly carries the same gear. It’s hard not to read this as a young JD, lying alone in his room, sweating and uneasy, finding fixed points in sword & sorcery and in-skull adventures.

Sean, in the meanwhile, is a bit of a cypher - which is a functional device because Sean has had a life of interiors; actions playing out through barriers, distance, and remove, despite any claims that Sean makes to a life of inner vividness. And vivid it is - the analog MMORPG that Sean uses as both a source of income and a reason for continued existence, a social network with plenty of safe distance between him and others in which the goal is the journey, not the (unreachable) destination. The game, Trace Italian, is played through the mail - players are given context and options, and they then make “moves”, which they send to Sean, who responds with more context and directions, etc - and this pursuit, no matter how implausible, is so finely described and so compassionately constructed that the question becomes: does Sean run Trace Italian because he’s a recluse, or is he a recluse so he can write Trace Italian? And why is he all scarred?

To go to into detail about this book’s plot would not be hard, because in truth only a few things actually Happen to Sean, the narrator. This book concerns itself more with the why, not the how, and the jumble of memories and flashbacks and significances takes on a horrifying dream logic as we further understand why Sean’s disfigured, and why he dealt with the aftermath as he did. So my view is that as a self-contained, ornately crafted box of a book, WIWV unquestionably succeeds. It is not large, or overly ambitious, or concerned with much beyond Sean’s unique brand of solipsism - but it doesn’t need to be, as JD has never been someone to do The Expected Thing, or even The Trademark Thing. Ss an extension of JD’s refusal to sacrifice nuance for effect, the book handles itself as admirably as any of his many, many hyperliterate song lyrics. I would warn anyone looking for a satisfying narrative to not approach this book as such. It’s a literary automat of constant low-band loneliness, eerie resignation, truncated sadness and ennui that ends on a textual knife-twist. Do not expect to walk out of this book with a full and balanced heart.

intellectualspicemuseum:

Hey guys

If you use spotify, write in the tags the first artist each of your daily mixes are based on as of right now, please and thanks!

renegademp3:john + dean + sam // soft targets, the mountain goatsrenegademp3:john + dean + sam // soft targets, the mountain goatsrenegademp3:john + dean + sam // soft targets, the mountain goatsrenegademp3:john + dean + sam // soft targets, the mountain goatsrenegademp3:john + dean + sam // soft targets, the mountain goatsrenegademp3:john + dean + sam // soft targets, the mountain goats

renegademp3:

john + dean + sam// soft targets, the mountain goats


Post link

dyke-crossing:

obsessed with calling mountain goats by anything other than john darnielle. jon wursters side project when he’s not working with superchunk.

 Get famous You should be famousGo on and get famous - Get Famous, The Mountain Goats Get famous You should be famousGo on and get famous - Get Famous, The Mountain Goats

Get famous 
You should be famous
Go on and get famous

-Get Famous, The Mountain Goats


Post link
Acme and Septimius, Frederic Leighton (before 1868) // ‘Game Shows Touch Our Lives’, The Mountain Go

Acme and Septimius, Frederic Leighton (before 1868) // ‘Game Shows Touch Our Lives’, The Mountain Goats


Post link
Hecuba Blinding Polymestor by Giuseppe Maria Crespi (early 18th c.) // ‘Foreign Object’, The Mountai

Hecuba Blinding Polymestor by Giuseppe Maria Crespi (early 18th c.) // ‘Foreign Object’, The Mountain Goats


Post link
The Ides of March, Edward John Poynter (1883) // “Rain in Soho”, The Mountain Goats

The Ides of March, Edward John Poynter (1883) // “Rain in Soho”, The Mountain Goats


Post link
Shadows and their sources now stealing away with youThe Lovers (1928), Rockwell Kent / Age of Kings,

Shadows and their sources now stealing away with you

The Lovers (1928), Rockwell Kent / Age of Kings, The Mountain Goats


Post link
Untitled (Rooftop View) (1957), Hughie Lee-Smith / Birth of Serpents, The Mountain Goats

Untitled (Rooftop View) (1957), Hughie Lee-Smith / Birth of Serpents, The Mountain Goats


Post link
No one was going to get away with anythingSunday (1975), Patricia Gren Hayes / Rain in Soho, The Mou

No one was going to get away with anything

Sunday (1975), Patricia Gren Hayes / Rain in Soho, The Mountain Goats


Post link
Nothing I could say.The Painter and His Model (1939), Georges Braque / From TG&Y, The Mountain G

Nothing I could say.

The Painter and His Model (1939), Georges Braque / From TG&Y, The Mountain Goats


Post link
We’re throwing off sparksWanderer above the Sea of Fog (1818), Caspar David Friedrich / Oceanographe

We’re throwing off sparks

Wanderer above the Sea of Fog (1818), Caspar David Friedrich / Oceanographer’s Choice, The Mountain Goats


Post link
Remember (1924), Nicholas Roerich / Rain in Soho, The Mountain Goats

Remember (1924), Nicholas Roerich / Rain in Soho, The Mountain Goats


Post link
loading