Glass Essence

My essence is glass

The casing is cracked

The lessons I’ve learned are ingrained

This man has learned

How quickly hours pass

Swept up like sand in the waves

My structure is known

And to it, I ‘scribe

I keep to the rules I'm told

But on the horizon

I see with these eyes

The chaos that threatens my soul

My hourglass, oh

It's long since been flipped

I’ve come to accept

That my clock runs fast;

With each falling grain

Fifteen more sneak past

The seconds don’t last

Too fast to complain

As structure slips by

Quickly, out of my hands

I watch as it crumbles

To nothing but echoes

A constitution

With no ruling class

And suddenly -

These walls I once knew

Aren’t so strong anymore

I fear that I’ve entered

A swan dive; where first,

I lept - comprised, strong,

My eyes tightly closed -

Til chaos came calling

And twisted my arms

It tapped on my shoulders

And opened my eyes

To show me the water;

It approaches fast

My poise slowly slips

And soon I am falling

I’m out of control

The air whistles past

Blood pumps in my ears

So I close my eyes

For as I have learned

That’s all I can do

The surface is hard

My glass walls shatter

My sand grains scatter

And soon they are swept

Mixed with water by waves

You Need

Close your eyes

And tell yourself

That monsters aren’t real

You tell yourself

Don’t listen;

It’s all in your brain

Your worries,

They hinder you

You need to break

You need to build

Do something

Anything

You do nothing

You’re paralyzed

The seconds pass

You’ve lost your chance

And as it goes

Threadlike toward the wind

You accept it

You crack a smile

And crack inside

Show the world you’re fine

And breathe

It’s hard to try

But do so, please

Your mind’s become

Your enemy

You need,

But don’t know what you need

You crack a smile;

So does your heart

And you begin to bleed

The Archer

Aim high, young archer

Unsheath your bow

Unto the heavens, defy

Your arrows plenty

And your crest displayed 

Walk steady, assured and comprised

Hold up your head

And see those you love;

They're calling your name in the crowd

No monster or foe

Is bigger than you 

The screams of the many grow loud

Your stance is well practiced

Your string is held taught

You fire; the arrowhead screams

See how the weapon

Has found its intent

Piercing the air without wings

Be strong, young archer

For your time has come

Shout your name proudly on high

By your heart's beat 

Raise boldly your bow 

And split the cerulean sky

Morning Mantra

When forenoon light

Seeps through your blinds

Do you wake up

Or choose to hide?

If you wish

You’ll close your eyes

And never know

The bluest skies

Shower fast

As coffee brews

Fill your mug

And read the news

Watch the blinds

The light beams through

There’s so much left

Today to do

For now you sip

And nod to tunes

While sun decides

Your waking mood

Don’t be scared

Of morning light

There’s more to see

Than there’s in night

So make love to

The rising sun

Soul's vivified

Your day’s begun

Little Blue Clouds

On days without clouds

Sunshine burns my skin

Invisible rays

Leave callouses thin

Without my blue clouds

In an orange can

I’m forced to seek shade

Stick my head in sand

With little blue clouds

My middle's secure

But on days without

My mind is more pure 

I never take time

To look at the sky

The fear of the hurt

Means beauty drifts by

But without the clouds

The sky is so blue

The highs are up there

Though lows are there too

I stick with my clouds

And accept the mean

For my present’s sake

To keep my mind clean

I work toward my strengths

For fortitude and

One day I’ll emerge

A much stronger man

When my job is done

And I find my ground

I’ll trade them for wings

And I’ll fly around

I’ll look past the clouds

To a bright blue sky

I’ll bear through the lows

To bask in the highs

6.5

The smallest words 

Can sometimes hurt

For years after they should

It’s been some time

But I still find

My outsides aren't good

I still remember

One day when

The girls rated the guys

He was an 8

And he, the same

And I, a 6.5

The lowest grade

Almost a fail

If looks were academe

Shallow yes

Perhaps naive

But hurtful all the same

It’s been some years

I’ve grown a bit

And found a happy place

But now you seem

Confused when I

Don’t try to see your face

It’s not so much

A clung-to grudge

I’ve just moved on, you see

I’ve found new friends

And they respect

The handsome inside me

I may not be 

Most beautiful

Or favored by your vote

But rest assured

I’m stronger now

My mental stays afloat

For looks will fade

The glory days

Of youth will not endure

Though not the best

At looks, I find

My heart and mind mature

So if you wonder

Where I’ve been

Just know I’m doing fine

And if you wonder

How I look?

I’d say an 8.5

Chris Orzeske's Top 5 Albums of 2014

Best of 2014

5. Clean Bandit - New Eyes

“If you gave me a chance, I would take it/it’s a shot in the dark, but I’ll make it.” Those words blasted through our radios more and more as the year progressed. By the end of it all, English quartet Clean Bandit and their breakout single “Rather Be” were almost as ubiquitous on this side of the pond as on theirs. Perhaps the one downside of such a perfectly crafted piece of pop becoming so, so popular is that the song’s impressive parent album often goes unnoticed.

New Eyes, the band’s debut, is much more than the collection of first single similarities that so many modern pop albums are. Displaying their classical roots, the sound of live strings permeates nearly every track on the album. From seafaring stabs on the chorus of “Come Over” to full-on classical movement recreations on the opener “Mozart’s House”, the band misses no opportunity to add classical flavor to modern dance music.

Perhaps one of the most interesting pieces on the album is British single “A+E”, which has criminally not been pushed yet in America. An enticing classical opening section gives way to an irresistible dance plod, complete with the trademark bleeps and steel pan synths that Clean Bandit has made their signature. The four have an unmatched knack for melding pop sensibility with classical melody.

The influences displayed range from southern trap on the title track to island music on “UK Shanty” to the aforementioned classical flavorings. For a record on paper so across-the-board, the result is surprisingly cohesive and compelling. When pop music is viewed through a serious lens, the results are often great. Through the lens of the strict structure of classical music, the result is the catchy, danceable, melodically complex and intrinsically appealing sound that you know from “Rather Be”. It would be criminal to assume Clean Bandit to be just a one-trick pony, when they’re more like an entire herd moving in unison to the sound of strings and techno beats.

4. Beck - Morning Phase

A full twenty years since “Loser”, Beck is still pushing the boundaries of rock music. After dabbling in glitch, crunchy alternative, hip-hop and psychedelia, where is an enterprising oddball rocker to turn? As it happens, the call is a long-requested return to the acoustic melodies of his heavily acclaimed Sea Change. Where that album was rooted in melancholy loneliness, Morning Phase deals instead in wide-eyed optimism with folk-rock flavor. Gone is the breakup-inspired, tearful sunset of Sea Change in favor of a sunrise companion piece with appropriately bright soundscapes.

To begin the album with a song called “Morning” is no coincidence. “Morning” sounds like the sigh of relief at 7am after a terrible night of red eyes and broken memories. The simple brushed drums and solo guitar four-chord progression gives way to a cascade of vocal harmonies, courtesy of a choir of Beck’s. The man’s own voice is an instrument he proudly wields like Hendrix’s guitar.

Early standout “Heart Is A Drum” chugs along on a repeated guitar line, swaddled in ethereal synth waves and reverb-powered vocal sighs. Following track “Say Goodbye” seems to tread more traditional bluesy Beck territory, but expands to include his now-trademark vocal harmonies and a banjo line you didn’t know you wanted until it enters. Synth organ waves buoy held vocal wails on “Unforgiven”, and the almost-overproduced-but-not-quite “Blue Moon” stands as a welcoming first single.

The general positivity of Morning Phase persists in feeling up until and through the epic closer “Waking Light”. In a culmination of all of the tricks he’s displayed throughout the album, “Light” slowly builds into a string-heavy cavalcade to close the album on an essentially-Beck note of all possible technical capabilities in full force. Morning Phase stands both as the perfect closure to Sea Change and a wonderful display of Beck’s raw talent in its own right. Is it an unexpected sound in the midst of an experiment-fueled musical era never more similar to Beck’s own heart? Sure, but leave it to Beck to leave us happily surprised time after time.

3. Isaiah Rashad - Cilvia Demo

Rap music in 2014 became a very fickle beast. In a world in which Bobby Shmurda hits the top 10 by wailing that “Mitch caught a body ‘bout a week agoooo” and iLoveMakonnen lights up radio by singing entirely off-key about weekday club excursions, it’s hard to see a place for traditional lyricism in the fray. Record label Top Dawg Entertainment has made its name as a beacon in a murky sea of punchlines and distorted 808s as modern rap’s guiding force towards the past, with mainstays like Kendrick Lamar and Ab-Soul recalling yesteryear’s rhyming passion and Schoolboy Q inserting the same spirit into today’s sounds.

Enter Isaiah Rashad. Alongside fellow new signee SZA (whose silky R&B can be heard on two Cilvia Demo tracks), Rashad has emerged as TDE’s latest hip-hop wunderkind. It’s not hard to imagine Rashad’s incessant flow and sharp rhymes fitting snugly in the rap scene of nearly 20 years ago, in the era of Wu-Tang and NWA. From the beginning of electric piano-led head-nodder “Webbie Flow” opening the album, the feeling of something both familiar and brand new is omnipresent.

But it’s his brutal personality that anchors Rashad to the modern era throughout the disc. He tackles the feelings of loneliness and desperation in his career path over a steel-pan skeleton on “Heavenly Father”, a show of raw honesty and vulnerability that wouldn’t have been as warmly received in a pre-808s & Heartbreak world. And the boastful Scarface referencing “Brad Jordan” could have easily been recorded on by a Future or a Kevin Gates, albeit likely not with the same fury and lyrical acrobatics.

The sarcastic musings on substance of “Menthol” betray Rashad’s dissatisfaction with the materialistic and molly-popping modern rap scene. “Thought the remedy was balling, I’m falling darling, I’m done/Finna be a workaholic, an alcoholic or some’” are bitter slams on the cashwise attitude of today’s young stars. Though only 23, Rashad speaks with the brutal honesty of a man with the glamorous world in his rearview.

His soul-soaked honesty carries through the project. Here is a young man with a story to tell and the talent to tell it in rhyme. With incredibly tight production from the likes of Sounwave and The Antydote, the result is an album as fresh as it is nostalgic, as haunting as it is optimistic. “At least we fell in love with something greater than debating suicide,” he laments on standout “West Savannah”, and it’s one of the most beautiful lines from a new rapper this year.

2. Weezer - Everything Will Be Alright In The End

One of the year’s most shockingly impressive projects came from perhaps the least likely source. Weezer, after a disappointing string of albums through the latter 2000s and culminating with an odd collection of songs tied together with a picture of Jorge Garcia, had had just enough of being modern rock’s perennial joke. After entering the studio with The Cars’ Ric Ocasek, who had previously assisted with their heavily acclaimed blue and green albums, the band emerged with their best piece of work in over a decade.

Clocking in at just over 40 minutes, Everything Will Be Alright is Weezer’s heftiest work since 2005’s Make Believe. In spite of the longer running time, the album feels like the band has finally cut the fat that plagued their recent works. Gone are the experimentally dance-leaning cuts and Lil Wayne features, replaced with pure, unadulterated power pop. Lead single “Back to the Shack” finds lead singer Rivers Cuomo apologizing for their transgressions and promising a return to form. Admittedly hard to swallow upon its release, it now sits proudly at the start of the album as a vindicated mission statement.  

Weezer has always shined brightest on its catchy pop-rock hooks; as such, the highlights of the album are the ones you’ll be singing to yourself for days after hearing. “Lonely Girl”, calling back almost immediately the sounds of Bleach-era Nirvana, gets its point across with a 3-word chorus repeated ad nauseam (and that’s in no way a bad thing). The silly historical rock of “The British Are Coming” ends up as the coolest thing that could possibly end up in a high school history lesson, and though “Da Vinci” has a hook without any real meaning, Cuomo’s earnest moans leave the listener at a “loss for words” all their own.

If it sounds a little corny, that’s because it is. And that’s the beauty of truly artistic pop music – a band’s own sound captured in the ultra-polish of a homogenized medium. That’s not to say you’ll be able to predict every turn. Opener “Ain’t Got Nobody” is about as rock as they come, and “Cleopatra” evokes the folk-rock movement that gained steam this year. And of course, Ocasek’s influence means a few proto-Cars tracks like “I’ve Had It Up To Here” and “Foolish Father”, which are always a welcome addition.

The ambitious three-song suite at the album’s close sums up the work in a concise statement: this is Weezer, and we’ve still got it. As the listener finds themselves enveloped by crashing guitars and wailed vocals, the sounds and feelings of days gone by creep back. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you’d been transported back to 1994, when “Buddy Holly” still ruled the radio. In fact, you haven’t. It’s 2014, and Weezer is determined to continue their legacy. And for the first time in almost a decade, that’s a good thing.

1. FKA Twigs – LP1

From its whispery onset to its cacophonous finale, FKA Twigs’ first full-length (quite literally titled) is a journey in both sound and feeling. Its eye-catching portrait cover is fitting; a woman painted in makeup with glazed eyes and the ghost of a smile barely having quit her lips, simultaneously personal and hollowly reminiscent of the listener’s own sensualities. But most importantly, it looks like nothing you’ve ever seen before in an album cover. Likewise, the album breaks new sonic ground effortlessly and continuously by delving unabashedly into emotion with a perfectly poised dive.

The chaotic intro, one of many contributions from modern production weirdo Arca, sets the tone with what can best be described as a quiet storm of flickering percussion, reverb-soaked vocal coos and pure, beautiful lust. Without one intelligible word rising above the fray, Twigs paints a picture in jittery computerized sound that expresses her thoughts better than any essay or memoir ever could. Similarly evocative highlights like “Hours” forego R&B tradition for a blend of instrumentation to endorse statement; in the aforementioned track, the chorus of “I could kiss you for hours” merges with a vast soundscape complete with whispering synths mimicking a desert wind, holding her bold sexuality as beauty against emptiness.

Such vastly empty soundscapes and traveling percussion lines contrast throughout the album with Twigs’ raw, pained vocals. Rather than background noise, however, the instrumentals serve as scaffolding to underscore her words - at no point is her heartfelt vocalizing not center stage. Therein lies the beauty of the album, which almost better understood as a collection of beautiful acapellas built with exoskeletons of synths into the physical incarnations of Twigs’ inner monologues.

It’s the wordlessness that speaks volumes. In “Video Girl”, Twigs reflects on her previous life as just that – a nameless backup dancer silently attempting expression. You can feel her pained restraint as she sighs, “You’re gonna get yourself broke one day”, followed by a quiet “Is she the girl that’s from the video?” It’s as though her bottled emotions exploded in a studio, caking the walls with spindly snare rolls and ratcheting knocks.

Breakout single “Two Weeks” is a haunting show of pain; a woman alone, asserting her superior sexuality to an absent ex-boyfriend who has since moved on. The phrase “I can fuck you better than her” has never felt so full of regret. The chorus erupts as a symphony of breathy vocals, half-time drum lines, rolling ticks and moaning sighs. There may not have been a closer auditory representation of pure, vulnerable lovemaking yet created in modern music.

In an era of quiet judgment attached to any mention of the word “sex”, Twigs’ straightforward and unashamed approach to intimacy is incredibly refreshing. There’s a quiet strength underlying her every word; one track, “Kicks”, reminds her absent lover that she can and will get her kicks without him, and – oh yeah – that she has a beautiful body of which she is very proud. The blend of sheer spirit and technological musicianship is something to behold. If there’s one absolutely essential music release this year, it’s this monument to human sexuality hiding behind a woman’s makeup-covered face.