I’ve been seeing my therapist, Terry, for a few months now, and overall it’s fine. I go to his office and get to complain about my job. It’s a great way to blow off steam, and not saddle my girlfriend with all my work drama. But recently he’s been asking about my parents. All I said was “Every family screams at each other.” But Terry sat there for a second, cocked his head, and said “hmmm… let’s unpack that.” And now it’s a whole thing.
Look, I’m a modern man. I understand I don’t have it all figured out. But if I’m being honest therapy sometimes just feels like a whine-fest. I had a great childhood. But as soon as I say something like “if I smell alcohol on a man’s breath, I immediately think of my dad” Terry just responds with some overthinky, pschobabble like “It sounds like you never felt safe as a kid.” Which is pretty ridiculous. Because NOBODY feels safe as a kid, right? That’s part of being a kid. You know at any point you’ll do something wrong, and it’ll set your parents off. That’s just part of growing up.
My parents didn’t hit me, and that means they were good parents. That’s the metric everyone uses. But Terry will say something like, “A lack of physical violence doesn’t mean a surplus of love” because he clearly doesn’t understand my parents. They grew up at a different time. Things were hard for them. So encouraging their children in their pursuits isn’t something they had time for. All I ever needed from my parents was an occasional “good job,” a pat on the back, or an extra scoop of ice cream. And sure, I never got those things, but how else was I gonna learn that I was neither special nor important?
I appreciate that Terry is trying to help me, but he acts like my parents were abusive when I say something like “My dad has never said he loves me” or “My mom has clearly tried to sabotage every romantic relationship I’ve ever had.” I mean, he refers to my folks as “emotionally withholding”, and it’s like, did Terry just not have parents? Because that’s what parents do: they withhold emotions so that you do whatever they say in the hopes that they will express even the smallest bit of love or approval, so… oh fuck. Yeah, never mind, Terry’s right.
This album represents Elliott Smith’s first foray into solo artistry, a sparse and unembellished introduction to his musical journey. This album, stark and intimate, unfolds like a series of confessions whispered in solitude. With its minimalist approach, Smith strips back the layers to reveal the essence of his songwriting—delicate guitar work paired with his earnest, soft vocals. Each track provides a window into his introspective world, laying the groundwork for the intricate narrative voice defining his later works. While “Roman Candle” shines with raw brilliance in moments, it’s more a hint of the artist’s future potential than a peak. This foundational album is a crucial chapter in understanding Smith’s evolution, showcasing his burgeoning talent yet hinting that his most profound work was still on the horizon.
“XO” is Elliott Smith’s ambitious major label debut, a significant turning point in his discography that finds itself at number five. This album is a fusion of his lo-fi beginnings with a more polished and expansive sound, signaling a new chapter in his musical journey. Smith delicately balances his acoustic roots with richer, more complex arrangements, creating an intricate and deeply personal tapestry. “XO” showcases his ability to evolve without losing the core of his introspective essence, offering a collection of textured and layered songs, yet unmistakably Elliott. Despite its standout moments and broader soundscapes, “XO” doesn’t consistently reach the peaks of his later work, positioning it as a pivotal but not the definitive chapter in Smith’s evolution. It hints at his potential to compose well-produced rock songs, laying the groundwork for his upcoming albums.
“New Moon” delves into Elliott Smith’s vault, presenting a treasure trove of unreleased tracks and B-sides that offer a unique glimpse into his artistic journey. This collection, not officially part of his main studio catalog, serves as a deep dive into the raw, unpolished undercurrents of Smith’s songwriting. It’s akin to discovering a hidden drawer of sketches, each resonating with the authentic essence of his creative process. These tracks, spanning from 1994 to 1997, provide a poignant look at Smith’s evolving artistry, capturing moments of vulnerability and emotion. “New Moon” is a testament to Smith’s enduring talent, showcasing a side of him that’s both delicate and rugged and shows the intimate acoustic charm that defined his early work.
This album marks Elliott Smith’s evolution into a realm where his intimate acoustic origins meet a more ambitious, rockstar-like polish. His second major label release is praised by fans and critics for its rich tapestry of sound—melding diverse instrumentation with intricate arrangements. It signifies Smith’s transition, merging the heartfelt storytelling of his past with a grander, more intricate musical canvas. “Figure 8” captures Smith at a point where his artistry burgeoned into something more expansive while maintaining the emotional core that is quintessentially his. Despite its broader scope and Smith’s venture into ‘rockstar’ territory while retaining his distinctive songwriting charm, the album doesn’t quite reach the pinnacle of his discography. It’s a significant chapter in Smith’s musical journey, showcasing an unmistakable evolution and a step towards a more elaborate sonic landscape. Also, I always laugh at the thought of thousands of people accidentally listening to “Somebody That I Used to Know” from this album while trying to listen to Goyte’s smash-hit of the same name.
“From a Basement on the Hill” stands as Elliott Smith’s poignant posthumous release, a window into the uncharted territory he was beginning to explore. This album merges the raw emotional intensity of his earlier works with a daring, experimental edge, marking a shift to an even more bitter and cynical vibe. It’s an album that vibrates with urgency and innovation, capturing Smith at a potential turning point in his artistry. Each track resonates with a sense of what could have been as Smith delves into a blend of familiar sounds and new, experimental directions. “From a Basement on the Hill” is not just a collection of songs; it’s a bittersweet testament to Smith’s evolving genius, offering a tantalizing glimpse of a future tragically left unrealized. While it showcases his talent in raw, unfiltered glory, it also leaves us pondering the masterpieces that might have followed, positioning this album as an essential, yet hauntingly incomplete, chapter in his legacy.
The runner-up spot is deservedly claimed by “Elliott Smith,” an album that not only cements his status as an acoustic singer-songwriter par excellence but also distills the essence of his artistry. This eponymous release serves as a profound exploration of Smith’s ability to weave deeply personal narratives with nothing more than his voice and a guitar. Each track showcases his songwriting at its most raw and pure, with gentle strums and passionate vocals that connect directly to the listener’s soul. The album’s intimate, unvarnished honesty offers a quintessential Elliott Smith experience, presenting a collection of songs that are as hauntingly beautiful as they are starkly honest. It is a seminal work in his catalog, a must-listen for long-time fans and newcomers, encapsulating the raw emotional depth and minimalistic beauty that define his legacy.
Elliott Smith’s magnum opus, a testament to his profound artistry and emotional depth. This seminal album gained mainstream attention with its inclusion in the “Good Will Hunting” soundtrack, which not only brought Smith’s music to a broader audience but also immortalized tracks like “Between the Bars” and “Say Yes” in cinematic history. “Either/Or” is Smith’s most accessible yet deeply poignant work, blending his signature intricate guitar play with reflective lyrics to craft songs that resonate with a haunting beauty. The album’s raw, expressive power and impeccable songwriting highlight Smith’s genius at its peak, offering tracks demonstrating his unparalleled ability to weave intricate emotional narratives with simple, evocative acoustic arrangements. “Either/Or” is not just an album; it’s a masterclass in storytelling, a beacon in the indie folk genre, and the quintessential representation of Smith’s enduring legacy.
April is an ethical journalist with a lot of integrity dedicated to telling the truth. She is currently unemployed.
Splinter is old, wise, and a master of both ninjitsu and the mystic arts. He knows huckstery snake oil pitches and thinly veiled fascism when he sees it.
After an experiment gone wrong, Brick Bradley becomes the super-strong Bugman anytime he gets angry. You would think being a rage monster would make him a natural Peterson acolyte, but the man has a lot of insect DNA, and Insects tend to form matriarchal societies, which Dr. Peterson considers unnatural. Hey, wait a minute…
These guys are from Dimension X where they lived under the tyranny of Crang the warlord for years. They’ve seen conservative thought leader’s endgame first hand and they have no interest in seeing it again.
A lot of frogs are trans, especially frogs who adhere to a punk ethos. The Punk Frogs won’t even watch the Harry Potter movies anymore let alone Fox News.
Leo is the leader of the Ninja Turtles, a morally driven idealist not easily swayed by the fear-based rhetoric of neo-cons. He wields dual katanas into battle but somehow manages not to kill anyone, which requires a strong sense of control and mindfulness. That’s not to say he doesn’t have his weak points. He did study the art of the pick-up under Sensei Mystery, and he had a really embarrassing fedora phase.
Carter is not easily influenced by anyone. He rides a motorcycle and plays by his own rules. When your name is Carter, you kinda gotta be like that.
As an ambassador to the planet Shell-Ri-La, Kerma has received mounting criticism over the years for attempting to bring his peace-loving (cough cough SOCIALIST) ways here to earth.
Photos of Irma from the time she became 50 feet tall and wreaked havoc on the city are often pointed to by Ben Shapiro, who claims “This is the future liberals want!”
This samurai rabbit is all about honor, and would never align himself with an impeached president.
Once a replacement for Shredder, Lotus renounced her evil ways and became an ally of the Turtles. As a mercenary, however, she is a 2nd Amendment hard-liner, and was pulled into the murky trenches of the far-right on that one issue alone. In 2019 she employed Dana Loesch to attack her once a week, just to keep her edge up.
Due to the fact that he contains the consciousness of all four Turtles at once, Metalhead suffers from a variety of mental illnesses and is prone to dissociative episodes, making him Fox News’ prime demographic.
Slash is not too bright and comes from an abusive household. Bebop and Rocksteady mutated him into being just to do their chores. He’s the exact sort of disenfranchised lost soul the far-right loves to prey upon.
Raphael is cool, but rude. He’s a contrarian by nature, a rebel without a cause who challenges authority in all of its forms, the kind of guy who is quick to point out “the wokes are just as crazy as the MAGA crowd” and thinks the left just doesn’t understand Rogan.
He’s a cop first and a cool robot second. ACAB, yes, including REX-1.
Take a closer look, he’s Steve Bannon. You see it now, right?
You know how in the movies Mobsters are always watching Anderson Cooper on TV? No? Exactly.
