Off their acclaimed album Pretty. Odd., Panic!’s Northern Downpour is probably my favorite song from them. This is pre-break up Panic! at it’s mellowest, and I love it.
Acoustic songs have a nice warm spot next to my aorta, you see.
I often talk about how music that confuses me or makes me think or sends a good message out are more likely to appeal to me, and this song definitely is one of the songs that confuses me. I get it, that the song shows that material objects matter the least, but the entirety of Pretty. Odd. is highly abstract, living up to the name.
“I missed your skin when you were east…” What does this mean, Brendan Urie!?
This Pretty. Odd. album was highly influenced by the Beatles, just watch this music video to see why. There’ll be another song off this album in this list to further prove my point.
At long last Jelly Bean 4.2.2 is finally being rolled out in phases for Verizon Galaxy Nexus owners. Its been some time since this came out and us Verizon folk were left on the outside looking in. Expect an OTA notification to come soon. I cannot wait. I’m going to be hitting that update button endlessly.
[Our POV pieces are based on the fictional accounts and direct Points Of View from the subject, or subjects in the matter. Just for off the cuff entertainment. And for fun.]
I just don’t understand it. Am I not like everyone else? Don’t I help carry the team forward? I’m always in the line of fire ready to go, ready to sacrifice myself should the need arise. My partner and I, both on opposite ends of this family, do what’s necessary to protect each and every one of them before they see themselves off to the mouths and stomachs of every human being on this earth battle.
But still, my brother and I, we get no respect. None whatsoever. To everyone else we, and those like us, get thrown away. Relegated to the dark, bottom corner of the trash can, as if by some karmic plan we were meant to perpetuate our last days there.
To this I say, “Why?” Why must we be segregated to this way of life? To be kneaded and baked with love and attention, the warmth of the oven, only to bookend our fellow brethren before we all get bagged and sold to the markets for consumption. What of our needs? Why do our wants go unmet?
I suppose such is my fate, as is with all end pieces. I’ll just quietly walk forward into the line of sight. Whether I am a throwaway or lucky enough to at least be a part of a new group of individuals in the grand scheme of things. Peanut butter? Ham? Turkey? Maybe some Jelly? Or perhaps the multicultural Patè? Listen, I’ll even sacrifice myself in the torture-filled confines of a toaster heated coffin with Butter if it means being made into a sandwich salvation.