yeah good grades are cool and all but have you ever had a good night sleep
That mop has fabulous hair
helicopter looks like a monster eating people om nom
this was the greatest movie ever and nothing you say can change that
Fun Story: My director kept telling me and my tenor sax buddy to play softer. No matter what we did, it wasn’t soft enough for him. So getting frustrated, I told my buddy “Dont play this time. Just fake it”
Our Band Director then informed us we sounded perfect.
To my readers: “p” means quiet, “pp” means really quiet. I’ve never seen “pppp” before haha.
On the contrast, “f” means loud, and “ffff” probably means so loud you go unconscious.
I had ffff in a piece once and my conductor told me to play as loudly as physically possible without falling off my chair…
Me and my trombone buddies had “ffff” and he sat next to me and played so hard that he fell out of his chair.
The lengths we go for music.
Okay yeah so I play the bass clarinet and the amount of air you have to move and the stiffness of the reed means it only has two settings and that is loud and louder, with an optional LOUDEST that includes a 50% probability of HORRIBLE CROAKING NOISE which is the bass equivalent of the ubiquitous clarinet shriek.
One day, when I was in concert band in high school, we got a new piece handed out for the first time, and there was a strange little commotion back in the tuba section — whispering, and pointing at something in the music, and swatting at each other’s hands all shhh don’t call attention to it. And although they did attract the attention of basically everyone else in the band, they managed to avoid being noticed by the band director, who gave us a few minutes to look over our parts and then said, “All right, let’s run through it up to section A.”
And here we are, cheerfully playing along, sounding reasonably competent — but everyone, when they have the attention to spare, is keeping an eye on the tuba players. They don’t come in for the first eight measures or so, and then when they do come in, what we see is:
[reeeeeeally deep breath]
[COLOSSAL FOGHORN NOISE]
The entire band stops dead, in the cacophonous kind of way that a band stops when it hasn’t actually been cued to stop. The band director doesn’t even say anything, just looks straight back at the tubas and makes a helpless sort of why gesture.
In unison, the tuba players defend themselves: “THERE WERE FOUR F’S.”
FFFF is not really a rational dynamic marking for any instrument, but for the love of all that is holy why would you put it in a tuba part.
This is the best band post
Everyone else go home
Oh man, so I play trombone, and we got this piece called Florentiner Marsch by Julius Fucik, and we saw this
which is 8 fortes. We were shocked until,
that is 24 fortes who the fuck does that
Who does that?
This guy. Take a good look - that is the moustache of a man with nothing to lose.
More like Julius Fuckit
Something you should know about that man: his most well-known composition is a little piece called “Entry of the Gladiators”. You know this piece. I know you do.
that is the moustache of a man with nothing to lose
Fuck this post
Fuck this post so much.
You want a “Why not?”
How about the way your best friend’s older sister will throw up by the side of the road because she’s crying so hard
How about the way your best friend will sob for weeks in her showers, in her bedroom, in the bathroom at school
How about the way your mother will cry every time she looks at herself in the mirror and pictures herself bringing you home
How about the way your father’s eyes will NEVER stop mirroring the image of your hanging body
How about the way your boyfriend will sit in his room in silence, unable to eat or sleep, or even to fucking shower, because why would he want to continue without you
How about the way the girl who called you a brother will start crying every time she sees your parents
How about the way your family will sit in your house after the funeral looking blankly at one another, because god knows they can’t find a fucking thing to say that doesn’t just float through the air where you should be walking
How about the way your sister will wake up every morning and see your door and convince herself that you could still be there, just sleeping in your bed
How about the way your ex girlfriend will come over and pull your clothes from the drawers and cry while she holds them desperately to her face to breathe in what’s left of you
Don’t you dare tell me it won’t change things
There may be stars in the sky and wind in the air and sun in the clouds
But without you we do not want them
Don’t you dare be selfish enough to believe you aren’t important to us
So fuck this post
and fuck this romanticism of suicide
and fuck you for leaving my sister to cry in her room when she thinks nobody can hear