The $5.98 TAC EP Roulette V.4 Final Results

[Crow]

Adam Hurst - From Nowhere, Lament, Alone

[Evermind]

This is correct but I have 1% battery on my phone and I left the power bank at home and where the hell is the bus really

[TAC]

I'm honored you'd spend your last 1% posting in my thread.

[TAC]

EVERMIND

Dirge For A Forgotten Soul: A Cinematic Story of Love and Loss

Part 1: Reminiscence: Of Youth

1. Árstíðir - Ages
2. Árstíðir - Cannon
3. Árstíðir - Passion
4. Ólafur Arnalds – Old Skin
5. Ólafur Arnalds – A Stutter
6. Ólafur Arnalds – This Place Was a Shelter
7. Árstíðir - Shades

Part 2: Acceptance: Of Old Age

1. Adam Hurst - Alone
2. Mark Knopfler - When You Leave
3. Leonard Cohen-Travelling Light
4. Adam Hurst - Lament
5. Leonard Cohen - You Want It Darker
6. Mark Knopfler - Wherever I Go
7. Adam Hurst - From Nowhere

[Crow]

Leonard Cohen
Travelling Light, You Want It Darker

the titles are something like

Reminiscence: and Acceptance: but nobody actually cares about solving the titles and neither do I

[TAC]

I give you...Evermind's!

Dirge for a Forgotten Soul

A Cinematic Story of Love and Loss

Part 1: Reminiscence / Of Youth

1.   Reminiscence: Árstíðir – Ages
2. Dancing Under the Stars: Árstíðir – Cannon
3. Wedding: Árstíðir – Passion
4. Peace: Ólafur Arnalds – Old Skin
5. Fragile Heart: Ólafur Arnalds – A Stutter
6. Shattering: Ólafur Arnalds – This Place Was a Shelter
7. Panic: Árstíðir – Shades**

Part 2: Acceptance / Of Old Age

1. Grief: Adam Hurst – Alone
2. Lingering Echoes: Mark Knopfler – When You Leave
3. Aimless Wandering: Leonard Cohen – Traveling Light
4. Regrets: Adam Hurst – Lament
5. Acceptance: Leonard Cohen – You Want It Darker
6. Reunion: Mark Knopfler – Wherever I Go
7. Coda: Adam Hurst – From Nowhere

Spotify Link

Prologue: At the Hospital

The man sits in a wooden chair opposite of me, and his pale, wrinkled, trembling hands struggle to hold a glass of water still as his clouded yet perceptive eyes are focused on me.

“What do you want… from me again?”

His rasping, gravelly voice is unsettling. I’m used to dealing with older people, but this man looks different. Perhaps it’s this infinite sadness in his eyes, mingled with silent and furious understanding, or perhaps it’s something else, yet I can’t shake the feeling his eyes are piercing my very soul.

“Sir, I thank you for your cooperation once again. I’m doing the Psychology course in Stanford University and I’m gathering recollections of the elderly lives for my graduation project. My particular theme is, well, it’s the things you would’ve done differently if you had a chance to live your life once again. Exploring all your regrets and finding a way to fix them, or work on them.”

“I know it’s not an easy thing to discuss…”

I trail off. The older man squints at me, as if he’s trying to place me. I hold his gaze. A few moments pass in silence.

“Are you… sure?”

I’m not, especially after he rasps this question to me.

“I’m quite sure, sir, yes.”

He adjusts himself in his wooden chair and pushes a button underneath one of the handles. The nurse comes in soon, fixing a new IV bag to his arm. He addresses her in the same gravelly voice.

“I have a few… things to discuss… with this young fellow… and I prefer not to be disturbed… while I’m at it. I’ll ring a bell… if I need you.”

The nurse nods, smiles and leaves. We are alone in the ward. The old man is looking at me and I find myself unable to look away.

“You want to know… what I would’ve done differently… in my life, eh?

He falls silent for a while, and I have a feeling that this question wasn’t meant to be answered. When I think he won’t offer anything else, he speaks once again.

“You’re young and sometimes… sometimes life doesn’t care if you’re having… a good time or not. Sometimes life… is out to punch you… punch you in the gut. Tell you what… life is a fickle bitch… and most of the times she isn’t playing on your team.”

His sad, tired eyes are looking at everything in the room, and with a lack of alternative, they settle on you.

“You want… my story then? It’s not much of a story, honestly. It’s not much of anything. I’m just a… man who is living his last days here… and tell you what… it’s not much of a life, either.”

He looks grave, and he looks beaten, and most of all, he looks tired. Yet he also looks hopeful.

“Yes, sir.”

As he stares at me, his blue eyes become clearer and brighter, as if the clouds are lifted to reveal the sun behind. His posture changes slightly, he sits just a little bit straighter than before. He takes a long draught from the glass and sets it aside.

“Very well then.”

His strengthened deep rasping voice fills the room.

Part 1: Reminiscence / Of Youth

“I knew her from my childhood. We grew up in the same neighborhood. God, it’s difficult to even think about it. That was… that was so long ago, ages ago. And we were friends, oh yes we were, thick as thieves. Just two kids set on conquering the world. Or, you know. Conquering the hill next to her parents’ house. Conquering the neighbor’s dog with treats.

“We didn’t get on with other children much. Existed in our own fantasy world, just for the two of us. It was quite a small world, to think about it, but just enough for us. Just enough. Those were blessed times. Blessed times.

“And then my family moved about to another small town. We wrote letters to each other. Silly ones, mostly. As time crept up on us, the letters were becoming scarcer and scarcer. We were slowly moving on with our lives. Our little adventures all forgotten and discarded on the wind.

“But then… then happened what became the biggest blessing and curse of my life.”

His face brightens up and breaks into a smile, displaying a set of false teeth. For the first moment since I entered the ward, I see the warm sparks of joy in someone’s eyes.

“She came to my graduation ceremony.”

“It was out of the blue, unexpected. I couldn’t believe my eyes. We didn’t write to each other for months. And yet there she was, standing in the crowd. Watching me enduring the ceremony in this silly little hat. After that, we spent the whole evening talking, catching up. I barely paid attention to anything. I… it was as if we were back in our little world. As if I was brought back to my childhood. We lost track of time. It was late in the night when we realized it was time to get back home. It was a cold night, as summers go. I used to remember this well. It was one of my most treasured memories.

“We danced. Danced under the cold judging stars. Just one dance for everyone and no-one to see. Just for us. It was surreal. It is surreal, now that I reflect on it. I still remember her beautiful face close to mine.

“We promised to stay in touch this time, and to meet whenever possible. And we were good on our promise. I moved back into her town at the end of the year. We moved in together next year. What can I say, we definitely stayed in touch.”

The smile hasn’t quite left his face. If anything, his face is livelier than before, yet the profound longing and sadness still lurks behind the energy dancing in his eyes.

“The wedding was small. The only ones invited were our parents. Them and a couple of friends we picked up along our lives. A small reception for a huge event in our lives. It was then, when I was asked if I agreed to take her to be my wife, to have and hold her from this day forward… it was then that I realized… I’ve been waiting for this moment all my life. This was life. This was happiness. This was everything.”

His voice is choked with emotion, his face trembles, and for a moment, I think he will shed a tear. He regains his composure instead and his eyes take on a dreamy look.

“For our honeymoon, we rented a cabin in the woods. One of her friends was generous enough to let us live there almost for free. It wasn’t much. Just a bedroom, a bath, and a kitchen. And the endless trees and hills and valleys and lakes for us to explore. This was all we needed. This was all we wanted. Never have I ever felt this peaceful in my life. We braved the forest together, climbed the hills together, swam in lakes together. And then we would rest and head out again. Isolated from the world. Only nature and the two of us, communing with it.”

He looks to the window, to the sun slowly sinking on the horizon. The sadness in his eyes is palpable now, and he takes a long pause before speaking on.

“Then it happened. The day that ruined everything.

“We were at one of the lakes. There were raspberry bushes nearby. I went to get a few berries for her. She stayed at the lake, watching the still waters.”

He definitely looks agitated now.

“When I returned, she was breathing heavily. The cold sweat stood out on her brow. As she stood up when she saw me approaching, she swayed on her feet. I dropped the berries and rushed to catch her. She fainted and fell, almost rolling into the lake.

“I couldn’t leave her here. The only phone was back in the cabin. There was no one around. Just the lake and the trees and the birds happily chirping somewhere above in the canopy. I hoisted her on my shoulder and ran back to the cabin. I wasn’t thinking straight. I dashed madly between the woods. Hoping I’ll get there on time. I fell a few times, not paying attention to the tree roots under my feet. I ran for her life. I had a terrible feeling I was too late already.”

He takes a deep breath and glances at the window again. I’m too immersed in the story to interrupt him, and after collecting his thoughts, he continues.

“I called an ambulance. They took their sweet time. She was still breathing when they arrived. I’ve never seen her so pale in my life.

“When they loaded her into the car, her heart stopped. They managed to revive it, shock it back to life. The car started off. We got out of the woods soon, and we rushed to the hospital. The sirens were going off. The driver expertly swerved between the lanes, saving us the precious seconds. I couldn’t do anything. I sat there helpless. Flashbacks to our time in the cabin, in the forest were plaguing my mind. I recalled my stumbling run back to the cabin. I recalled how I fell, how I dropped her onto the hard cold ground. What if the falls did enough damage to her heart to never recover? What if she never wakes up? What would I do then?

“Red lights were a blur outside the ambulance window. The cars were a blur, too. The engine was screaming. For the first time in my life, I prayed. I wasn’t religious, but I prayed. Prayed to whoever is listening that we arrive on time for the doctors to save her.

“The ambulance arrived at the hospital ten minutes later. That’s when her heart stopped, too. They tried to start it again to no avail. Just like that, she passed away. All that rush was for nothing. We couldn’t save her.

“Just like that, my life turned to bitter ashes. Just like that, I was alone in the world once more.”

---

The sun has set now, only giving a slight hint of its presence with a warm red glow beyond the horizon. The old man thoughtfully watches the birds flying past the window. His eyes have lost their brightness and are clouded once again, and his posture is slumped and tired. His voice is a dry, croaking sound.

“You would’ve thought… I remember this every day… it would’ve been easier to tell… this story to someone. Yet I feel like… I was there again, and I failed again.

“I don’t think I’m… quite ready to tell the rest of the story today. I feel tired. Why don’t you… come tomorrow and I’ll… see that you get the rest of the tale?”

I nod politely. One more day is nothing to me, and although I can already guess where the story is going, I’m more than happy to let the man rest and recover his strength. We exchange pleasantries and I head out back to my car. I can feel his clouded gaze burning on my back as I leave the ward. I will come back tomorrow to collect his memories.

Interlude: At the Hospital

“Just like that, my life turned to bitter ashes. Just like that, I was alone in the world once more.”

The voice of the old man from the hospital rang out in my head as I was driving back the next day to hear the rest of his story. The story wasn’t anything special, you see. I’ve heard quite a couple of similar tales in the last few months. The way the people came alive with emotions and forgot everything for a moment, forgot their age and the pains to relive these moments in the past and to share them with an interested stranger, it made it all worth it. People felt they were needed again, and it was fascinating and fulfilling to watch them spring back to life, if only for these few moments.

I park my car and walk upstairs to the fourth floor. The same nurse greets me at the entrance to the floor, but instead of going to the ward she leads me to the office, where a few pieces of paper with crooked handwriting are resting peacefully on the table.

“Mr. Earlington passed away this night. When you left, he asked for a few pieces of paper and a pen. He asked me to give these to you “in case he won’t be at his brightest tomorrow”. He had dementia, you see. You were lucky to catch him on his good day.”

I throw a quick glance at the papers. At the top of the first one, I see the line that was in my head for the entirety of the drive.

I collect the papers and leave. There is no hurry now. I skim through the written lines and I’m surprised to find my name in there. I’ll read these at my apartment.

Part 2: Acceptance / Of Old Age

“Just like that, my life turned to bitter ashes. Just like that, I was alone in the world once more.

“You see, James, I didn’t stop yesterday because I was tired. Mostly, I just didn’t think I could tell it in person. It requires me to admit that I wasted my life away. Now that I’m on the death’s door, I look back on the years I lived. And so I ask myself: was it worth it? And I think and think about it, and now that I had to recall my life’s story for you… I don’t think it was. I realized that yesterday. I needed some time to admit that.

“You met me on a day when I was bright enough to share my story. Usually I don’t remember where I am. Comes with an old age, you see. I hope this lucidity lasts enough for me to write the rest of my tale. There’s not much left to the tale. Although, if you think about, the tale is still going on, isn’t it?”

The script ends there. There are only three pages after this one, and each one only has a couple of sentences on it. I get the second page out and begin reading.

“It was difficult. It was as if a part of me was ripped away and left me crippled and bloody. I would wake up in an empty house and think I felt her presence right next to me. I would cook something and hear her advice. I would hear a smallest sound and turn to look behind me. Thinking it would be her, as though she is still there, still around somewhere. Still alive…

“I fell into a routine. Wake up, get to work, get back, prepare something to eat, go to sleep. Every day was a blur. Everything was gray and lifeless. I thought it would pass. Thought the time would heal the wounds. Perhaps I just didn’t want the wounds to be healed. Perhaps I just couldn’t let go, couldn’t make myself forget. Perhaps the pain from the memories of her kept me going.”

The script ends, not even reaching half of the page. I flip the page around and start reading the third one.

“Years and years passed in a whirlwind of boredom. I led a modest life. A night at the bar here and there, an opportunity to drown my sorrows. A visit to a theatre here and there, a welcome distraction. A vacation in the woods, a solitary pastime to rest.

“I saved up a moderate amount of money to allow myself an early retirement. I spent most of it traveling around the world. Just me with a backpack. Seeing local cultures, sitting in local bars and restaurants. Visiting celebrations and harvest festivals, marveling at the unfamiliar forests and parks. Sleeping in one-night hotels, always being on the road. It helped, you know. Helped me to give up on her and me. Helped me realize this dream, this delusion of mine must end. I’ve met a few people in my travels. Never could they be compared to her complexity and her wit and her charm. I used to tell myself I wasn’t alone because of that. But still I couldn’t banish her image from my mind. Her ghost haunted me wherever I went. All the roads led back to her.”

There is only one page left. This one is stained by tears, and the handwriting becomes hazy in the middle, only to become steady again for the final line.

“And here I am as the sun sets on my life. When I look back at what I achieved, there is nothing of value. When I look at the things I’ve left for this world, there is nothing of value. I might’ve as well not existed, and the world would’ve been none the wiser.

“Were those brief moments of utter bliss and radiant happiness I experienced with her worth it? Was it worth it to live sixty years in misery, trying to escape and embrace the grief at the same time, just for those brief moments? I have to keep convincing myself it was. If only for the reason that if it wasn’t, she also lived her short life for nothing.

“I see the happy folk walking around, smiling at each other. Not much of that in the hospital, no, but out there. To think we were once one of them! And look how everything changed, then. She rests in the ground and I’m living my last days here.

“I’m eternally grateful to you for these last moments of lucidity. It’s as if your appearance, James, made my mind stir and wake up from its slumber. The illness frightens me. There are days I don’t remember where I am and who I was. There are days I don’t even remember her beautiful face. The memory I thought was etched in my mind. It’s fleeting, evading me, shrouded in darkness, hidden behind the curtain. But the curtain is finally lifted today. I can clearly see the frame of her face once more. The lively green eyes of hers are smiling at me. It’s a blessing I didn’t think I would receive.

“I don’t want to go back to the darkness after this. Perhaps she is waiting for me in the afterlife. I’m tired now. I said all I wanted to say. I need to sleep and I hope not to wake up. Perhaps I’ll meet her there.

The last sentence stands out for its impeccably steady handwriting.

“I’m ready, my Lord.”

Epilogue: At the Cemetery

It’s a dreary autumn day and I’m standing at a grave in Catholic Cemeteries of the Diocese of San Jose. The simple gray gravestone of Charles Earlington, 1932 – 2019, is unattended. This is the first time I came here after his death three months ago. I leave lilies at the grave and as I turn to leave, my sight falls onto the grave next to the old man’s place of rest. The small, cracked marble gravestone reads:

Heather Earlington
1930 – 1956
Mors Vincit Omnia

I permit myself a small smile as I walk away, turning my collar up against the drizzle falling from the gray skies.

[TAC]

Some instructions..

• Most importantly: treat this story like a movie. I added some instrumental tracks aiming for a cinematic feel in some moments of the story. Don't treat this as just a concept music album. Try to imagine the scenes described while listening. I have vivid images in my mind for some of the songs. I'm a nerd.
• The album is broken in two parts, and I used singers with lighter voices for the "young" part and the singers with deeper voices for the "old" part. The "young" part is also way more livelier and adventurous than the "old" part.
• There are callbacks to the song lyrics in the actual story, and there is foreshadowing of the events to come in the song lyrics and the story, and if you can't tell, I spent a lot of time thinking about this. I'm a nerd.
• The first part of the story is setting the scene and has no relation to the music. The actual story of the old man mostly follows the songs. The cursive parts are the breaks between the songs. The only song missing from the story is the penultimate one. You're supposed to figure out what happens during this one on your own (it's not difficult).
• Since the story is told from the old man's point of view, the songs are all with male singers except the penultimate one (you'll see). You're supposed to figure out why (it's not difficult).
• I named the tracks to reflect the story, so I'm including my names for the tracks and then the "artist - song name" template after that. Those are supposed to help the reader to understand what's going on just in case, although it's also pretty easy.

[faizoff]

Is that Evermind's handwriting? wow. I haven't read his story yet but I'd just go ahead and give all the bonus points for that writing alone. 
Finished Cyrils's 1st disc. I have to say I've been missing out a lot of music. This is great stuff.

[King Puppies and the Acid Guppies]

I gotta say, Evermind knocked it out of the park again with another fantastic concept and story.

Like Faizoff said, just give him all the bonus points 

[TAC]

Yeah, the handwriting is impressive. I can't write cursive anymore.

[ariich]

Damn Ruslan, not sure I'm gonna read all that.

Gorgeous handwriting though!

[Evermind]

Damn Ruslan, not sure I'm gonna read all that.

Gorgeous handwriting though!

Maybe get some coffee and just devote an hour of your precious time to this one, because honestly I'm insanely proud of this album, I think this is by far the best thing I've ever done and it deserves your time

Or don't, it's your choice anyway

Also yes, it's my handwriting, it's not like I could ask some other person to write this down

[ariich]

Also yes, it's my handwriting, it's not like I could ask some other person to write this down

Yeah that would be... pretty weird.

[TAC]

It's a great visual. I would totally ask someone to do it if I thought it added something to it.

[Evermind]

Luckily I can do good cursive to amuse you folks

Also I'm listening to my album again and just goddammit, it's so damn good Honestly this is the best thing I've ever done by far, I don't think I'll ever top this tbh

[wolfking]

Awesome Evermind. I'll help you for sure.

i should get a theme bonus because i've only gotten it once before and wolfking is gonna win anyways

Hmm... The Bonus Points are tough to come by in this round. Someone (s) will not be happy, but basically everyone is deserving.


Let's just say that Wolfking does NOT have this in the bag.  Plus the last one was completely anonymous.

Looks like Arrich or Chad might get me.  I'm fine with this as it will shut everyone up that keeps saying I'm winning anyway.  Hopefully I can hold on but not mad if not.  I like my concept a lot, but was never a writer so it doesn't look as impressive as some of these others.

It'll be one band that will make me lose and I knew that but I regret nothing.

[Evermind]

Awesome Evermind. I'll help you for sure.

i should get a theme bonus because i've only gotten it once before and wolfking is gonna win anyways

Hmm... The Bonus Points are tough to come by in this round. Someone (s) will not be happy, but basically everyone is deserving.


Let's just say that Wolfking does NOT have this in the bag.  Plus the last one was completely anonymous.

Looks like Arrich or Chad might get me.  I'm fine with this as it will shut everyone up that keeps saying I'm winning anyway.  Hopefully I can hold on but not mad if not.  I like my concept a lot, but was never a writer so it doesn't look as impressive as some of these others.

It'll be one band that will make me lose and I knew that but I regret nothing.

I mean... none of us are fucking writers, we're just doing our best to not suck at it

[TAC]

Well, being a good writer doesn't mean anything regarding the scores, or the Bonus Points. And I'm sure as hell not awarding Bonus Points to whoever has the best fucking handwriting!

Everyone has a great story. And I mean that. Everyone has done enough to earn the Bonus Points. Unfortunately, there's only 5 of them, and they will go to EP/albums whose songs tell the story the best. And they ALL do a good job of it. After my first run through, I know for sure where two of them are going to. And likely a third.

If you have come in expecting a Bonus Point, odds are that you will likely be disappointed.

[wolfking]

I know that. I kind of mean just basic structuring and putting a story together.  I suck more than you looking at yours. 

[wolfking]

Well, being a good writer doesn't mean anything regarding the scores, or the Bonus Points. And I'm sure as hell not awarding Bonus Points to whoever has the best fucking handwriting!

Everyone has a great story. And I mean that. Everyone has done enough to earn the Bonus Points. Unfortunately, there's only 5 of them, and they will go to EP/albums whose songs tell the story the best. And they ALL do a good job of it. After my first run through, I know for sure where two of them are going to. And likely a third.

If you have come in expecting a Bonus Point, odds are that you will likely be disappointed.

Yeah, playing for the bonus points will always end in failure.  Doing that makes you look past what you are actually sending sometimes and maybe what you should be spending.

I'm still confident in my story and songs.

[Evermind]

Well, being a good writer doesn't mean anything regarding the scores, or the Bonus Points. And I'm sure as hell not awarding Bonus Points to whoever has the best fucking handwriting!

Oh no, my plan is foiled!

Honestly I don't give a shit about the bonus points at this point, I did my best for my EP and I'm 100% behind it

I don't envy you, picking five awesome EPs from this sea of awesomeness, good luck

[Evermind]

Man but I'm listening to mine again and fuck did I nail the whole thing or what, it's just so weirdly awesome I can't even

I'm ready, my Lord

[TAC]

 

[TAC]

WOLF-MAN


1.   Evergrey – The Awakening
2.   Evergrey – King of Errors
3.   ___-____
4.   Dream Evil – E____t___
5.   Evergrey – A Touch of Blessing
6.   ____ – Re__r_
7.   __re____ – _a_k T_ T_e _Tr__e
8.   E___e_t_e - K___
9.   Sepultura – Arise
10.   __r_ Pr____p___ E_t – ____ter __ _e
11.   Tr_____ – _etra_e_
12.   Tr_____ – _e_er T_e _a__
13.   __r_ Pr____p___ E_t – T_e A___e____
14.   __r_ Pr____p___ E_t– _epa_t_re
15.   __ __a_e_ – Art____t_ __ t_e __a_k Ra__
16.   ____t___ __ – _ea__ __e_ __e _r___



PET KAR

[Crow]

give me the R

Evergrey? wild guess

[faizoff]

T

[Lethean]

K for Katatonia

And King of Errors

[faizoff]

No clue on these.

A

[Crow]

Sepultra

[Lethean]

The Awakening

[Lethean]

And probably A Touch of Blessing.

[faizoff]

Sepultura - Arise

[faizoff]

Dream Evil?

[TAC]

Dream Evil?

Yes!

[The Walrus]

Haven't even started reading Evermind's but he should get a point automatically. Good lord, man! That's awesome. I really want to write something like that for a concept...