The moon lits up the whole terrace. There’s something magical about waking up at night, stepping out into the winter cold, listening to the city silence, growing a tobacco cigarette and thinking of that same old same old piece of writing wrapped up in your wollen jacket pocket. You look at the ink on the paper, and the sharp-edged words it shows. By the moonshine you glow in the dark. It’s amazing how much light the moon gives off. Seven simple words light up by it and pierce deep into your brain. Suddenly you’re reminded of distant memories, the kind that never really fade. It’s frosting. Your hands tremble around the wrapper. Your fingers clench it strongly, try to hold on tight. Kinda like your brain holds onto this one memory, thought not quite. Whereas the rugged paper tries to flee from your dry touch, encouraged by the night wind, the memory voluntarily gravitates towards your brain, like it doesn’t want to leave. However much you try to get rid of it, to not think of it, it simply refuses to dim. Come dance with me. That’s what that memory says; begging you to recall it, to relive it, to dance with it in your brain. You look at the words again. You read them. Reread them in your head. You hear your own voice silently talking, uttering those words, inside. Words that were once yours. At the time out loud. Now a memory of something you once said, when you thought you were too wise for anyone to, really, understand.
It’s strange how people just fade out of your life. And not just any kind of people. Important people. The kind you think of in the nightlife sky, there on that wooden armchair with only one arm left, there in that grayish kind of light that only the moonshine can bring you.
This short story was inspired by one of my favourite live performances: “Moonshine” by Oscar and the Wolf Live @Pias Nites (Belgium) in 2012.
Director of the video: A Jerry’s Joint
Short story based on music video “Wild One” of DJs Lucky Rose and Tep No.
It’s difficult to tame a wild one. They all want one, until they actually have one. Then it blows up in their faces. You simply can’t tame the one thing that is too afraid to be caged. It will kick and scream, yell and spit, punch and hit you, right where it hurts. Whatever needs to be done to avoid entering the cage. Most of them keep trying anyway. But not much so with him. He lets me be. We can go for these long, quiet walks in the woods. And he’ll curiously jump and run around like mad, in some kind of childlike overexcitement. But he’s got his eye on me though. Follows me around. And even when I feel alone, I just look about, and guess who’s still around. He’s just as wild as me, exploring all them different corners ferociously. But sometimes I do keep him on a leash … Like when he’s been naughty, screwing up my carefully constructed territory. That much curiosity should sometimes be restrained. But the cuddles, well, they’re the best. His soft skin complements my firm face. And he’s so cute when he sleeps. And he’s strong. And protective of me. He’ll save me from anything, if necessary, though he knows I can take perfect care of my own. And when I dance the night away, he doesn’t care whether or not I’m drunk. Doesn’t feel the need to show the dance floor the two of us belong. He knows I am the loyal kind. He knows that I know that he’s around. Honestly, all the times I went out without him, it felt like I had left some kind of important piece of myself behind. So really, … who needs a man when you’ve got a dog?
Director of music video: Not mentioned anywhere – ? UltraMusic
Short story inspired by the music video of The Blaze for the song “Territory”.
This is what a real traveller feels like: Homeless. Without home. Not the place where you were born, not the place where you are now. And the sound of music that you float on exists of a million different cultural pieces from now on.
Travelling as a word has become a trend these days. But there are different kinds of travel. Travelling away, far from home, but knowing you’ve got one, is for example very different from actual travelling: Travelling as done by the lone wolves in the movies, travelling as done by the human species centuries ago. When there is not a place on earth you actually belong, when you have become a Nowhere Man, meeting people but never really being understood, then you are a real traveller.
Your home isn’t anywhere. Not where you were born. Not where you are now. Not all the different places in between. Not the airports, not the stations, not the cities you’ve been passing by. It is simply non-existent. It is simply … You.
Flowing lost and alone is how to recognise a true traveller. The one who travels around, reluctantly, with an open mind. The one who carries his shell on his back, while moving slowly towards the one true path: The path of belonging. But all humans are fundamentally alone (no matter how big the pack is), and any real traveller knows: There isn’t any territory, any region, any people in which I’ll ever fully belong.
In truth, the real traveller is a reluctant one. It is the one floating ball that actually doesn’t like travelling at all.
Director of music video: Jonathan and Guillaume Alric (The Blaze)
I’m at a wedding, once again. A woman I’ve never seen before approaches me. She’s wearing a fashionable dress, with red painted toe nails in high Armani heels. ‘No boyfriend?’, she curiously asks. As if it matters. Yet another soul who doesn’t understand independency. But I know why she has one. I can understand. ‘I’m on vacation‘, I say, proudly. Her left eyebrow slightly twitches. Her face asks for the benefits of this not so ordinary vacation. Well, if you must know… I’m doing whatever I want. No noise, no whining, no messages from hell. No one’s asking for dinner, no one’s getting upset. Funny how, when they’re about, you feel alone; and when you’re alone, you feel alive. I’m reminded again of who I was when we met. Yup, vacations from love. You should try it some time, I kindly reply. It’s a lot better than hitchhiking in the middle of nowhere, I’ll tell you that. No seriously, you should try it. You can even work out a ‘6-months ON, 6-months OFF’-plan. When loneliness sets in, do it all again. Trust me, it’s the best vacation you’ll ever have. And you don’t even have to leave the country. I’m telling you, it’s gonna broaden your horizon in ways you never held possible. Those thoughts that just don’t come when you’re next to someone. ‘So when are you coming back?’, she asks. I shrug my shoulders, turn my gaze towards the buffet. Dunno. I’m on vacation.
Director of MV: Michelle Gurevich
I took a chance to build a world of mine. Is what she thought. It didn’t work out. And now there’s just feelings. Everywhere. Who can stand them. Feelings. I came to break the wall that rose around you. Is what he said. To see the land of all. Which land, she said, there is no land to see. Just feelings, one on top of the other on top of all the others. All those other people’s feelings. You do not want to feel them. There’s a reason there’s a wall. You’d build one too if you felt it all. – I’m proud of you, to hold you. I’m proud of you, to hold you. I’m proud of you, to hold. – Stop it, she thought. There’s nothing here. Just feelings on top of feelings. You wouldn’t want to feel them. Stop resisting, is what he said. It is a strength, not a curse. Stop resisting. Stop. No, she thought. There is nothing here to see, nor feel. Leave. Is what she said. I will fall for you. Is what he said. Breathing down her neck. Well, then I will leave. Is what she said.
Director of MV: Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui
& Yoann Lemoine
Of course I gotta review the best video ever made. Why the best? Well, for starters, the song kicks ass. Say what you want, but good songs just sound good. To anyone. Specifically if you like contrasts. The sort of musical mood swings some might call manic depression, put on record. Lyrics? Pretty vague, but not so vague that you can’t relate. Video? Well, the overall view is still in the psychiatric area isn’t it? Except that, now, they do seem to imply that anyone, anywhere, is a sort of distorted maniac just living their thoughts under the gloomy layers of that which is labelled “normal”. It’s like what Erasmus claimed: Is anybody really, like, normal? … Food for thought.
Director of MV: Peter Christopherson
Holding back on gravity: It makes you dream. Live, eat, cry. Makes you want to move. Laugh, dance, try. Have a cup o’ dream. Oh, I mean, tea. Have a cup o’ tea. Throw around the fantasy. Non-existing colours, rainbows, sands and trees. I feel … alone and free. This is my photography. Homemade is what I feel. And the wind’s curling on top of me. Taking me to the One Big Tree, and those places I have yet to see. I feel … alone and cold. When you want to go up, but you get pushed down, and you’re left feeling old. – No more creativity, no more electricity. What’s left of the bold side of me? I feel … an alarm clock. Vibrations through my skin. Please, yes, make it stop. Where will time lead me? Where will I be making my cup o’ tea? Ah yes, homemade creativity. Taste the city catching up on you. Feel the one reality that’s true. Cause being free means to play with gravity.
Director of MV: Natalia Dufraisse & Filip Piskorzynski, made possible by The Creators Project