If you've had it on you mind to check any of the Defying Atmosphere fansites or forums, you've probably heard something about it: something feels different. It's just a recent shift, something the fans and public haven't quite been able to place quite yet, but it's unmistakably present.
Once the buzz kicks into high gear and the media buzz kicks in anyone can see it, clear as day. Mr. Universe, lead and bassist for Defying Atmosphere, has completely changed.
A - All Go For Launch - Open to bandmates
When it's time to perform, he sets down his demands for how this show's going to go; there's none of his usual collaborative friendliness. He's going to take center stage for this one. If you've got a problem with that, you'll have to take it up with him after the show, because he's not budging.
"We're blind and eager Avarice will set us back to blank Those who wager all will have to name a reason If you can't let go, you will end up empty handed If you can't control, you'll live your life in vain
Who decides about my time to come? Who is able to break through the circle of life and doom? Don't look back Keep on track to break the curse Take the chance Design your universe"
And besides, why would you complain? The audience positively eats up ever moment he's under the spotlight. He is the star, and their attention makes him shine. Heck, if everyone didn't know it was the stage lights, you might think he was glowing all by himself.
B - Progress vs. Pettiness - Open to Pride and Virgo Musicians
Interviewers quickly take note, needling eagerly for tidbits and quotes. He slouches in chairs, charming and disheveled as ever, but his hands are always tense, eyes sharp. Always smirking.
"I'm starting to take my career more seriously, now. You know?" He spreads his hands. "You ever think about how vast the cosmos really is? Big and wide enough for literally anything to be possible. But the only way you'll ever find what you want is to take it," his hands clench for emphasis, grin sharpening, "one star at a time. You can't stop, not for one second, until the whole universe is yours."
All blurbs and interviews are full of metaphors and decrees of this nature. How invigorating, say the papers, how inspiring! What drive, what determination!
He never brings up his bandmates, or any fellow musicians at all. Questions about them are shrugged off as quickly as possible, and mentions of Pride are met with a mocking grin, directed right to the camera. He's challenging you.
C - Galaxy Detour - Open to All
If one thing remains the same, it's Mr. Universe's zeal for public meetings. He'll gladly pose for photos and sign as many autographs as needed. Yet even this holds a different aura. The playful banter with fans involves less thank-yous and more bragging. The bright laughter sounds more like mocking chuckles, the beaming smiles look closer to knowing sneers. There's no more gratitude, only affirmation of what he already knows.
Of course you're here to see him. He's the star, and you're in his orbit. Come and bask in the light.
D - Don't Overheat On Me - Open to All
Every now and then, Mr. Universe needs to excuse himself. It comes at random moments: while eating, or in the middle of practicing instruments, or thirty seconds before autographs are actually supposed to get cut off. He'll walk off, not turning back for anything.
Looking like a diva is no concern to him. What he can't abide is the media catching sight of weakness. He feels that first twinge in the gut, a pang of something he can't quite place, and it sets his hands shaking. It always passes quickly, but not fast enough, and he hates it. Sometimes he retches, just to try and get the feeling out of his chest, but it never seems to help. Muttering curses at his hands does nothing to steady them.
What works best is when he gets himself someplace outside, where he can see the sky, breathe the air. Where there shouldn't be anyone around to see.
E - It's Only Chemical - DREAM
Dreams have become hazy and feverish. In all directions, landscapes waver in the distance: debris-strewn beaches, glowing spires piercing high to the clouds, barren craters flashing with lightning, a humble and broken down barn.
There's no way to tell how far away he is from any of the landmarks. All warp as though seen through a heat mirage, and are shrouded by the pinkish fog that swirls around him. A thin bubble is all that protects him from the choking mist, yet his chest already feels tight and strained from trying to breathe. He can't stay here, he needs to pick a direction and go, but still he dithers with labored breathing. They're not safe, none of those places will protect anything. But he won't suffocate there. Is that what matters right now?
Greg Universe - Dream pls
Once the buzz kicks into high gear and the media buzz kicks in anyone can see it, clear as day. Mr. Universe, lead and bassist for Defying Atmosphere, has completely changed.
A - All Go For Launch - Open to bandmates
When it's time to perform, he sets down his demands for how this show's going to go; there's none of his usual collaborative friendliness. He's going to take center stage for this one. If you've got a problem with that, you'll have to take it up with him after the show, because he's not budging.
"We're blind and eager
Avarice will set us back to blank
Those who wager all will have to name a reason
If you can't let go, you will end up empty handed
If you can't control, you'll live your life in vain
Who decides about my time to come?
Who is able to break through the circle of life and doom?
Don't look back
Keep on track to break the curse
Take the chance
Design your universe"
And besides, why would you complain? The audience positively eats up ever moment he's under the spotlight. He is the star, and their attention makes him shine. Heck, if everyone didn't know it was the stage lights, you might think he was glowing all by himself.
B - Progress vs. Pettiness - Open to Pride and Virgo Musicians
Interviewers quickly take note, needling eagerly for tidbits and quotes. He slouches in chairs, charming and disheveled as ever, but his hands are always tense, eyes sharp. Always smirking.
"I'm starting to take my career more seriously, now. You know?" He spreads his hands. "You ever think about how vast the cosmos really is? Big and wide enough for literally anything to be possible. But the only way you'll ever find what you want is to take it," his hands clench for emphasis, grin sharpening, "one star at a time. You can't stop, not for one second, until the whole universe is yours."
All blurbs and interviews are full of metaphors and decrees of this nature. How invigorating, say the papers, how inspiring! What drive, what determination!
He never brings up his bandmates, or any fellow musicians at all. Questions about them are shrugged off as quickly as possible, and mentions of Pride are met with a mocking grin, directed right to the camera. He's challenging you.
C - Galaxy Detour - Open to All
If one thing remains the same, it's Mr. Universe's zeal for public meetings. He'll gladly pose for photos and sign as many autographs as needed. Yet even this holds a different aura. The playful banter with fans involves less thank-yous and more bragging. The bright laughter sounds more like mocking chuckles, the beaming smiles look closer to knowing sneers. There's no more gratitude, only affirmation of what he already knows.
Of course you're here to see him. He's the star, and you're in his orbit. Come and bask in the light.
D - Don't Overheat On Me - Open to All
Every now and then, Mr. Universe needs to excuse himself. It comes at random moments: while eating, or in the middle of practicing instruments, or thirty seconds before autographs are actually supposed to get cut off. He'll walk off, not turning back for anything.
Looking like a diva is no concern to him. What he can't abide is the media catching sight of weakness. He feels that first twinge in the gut, a pang of something he can't quite place, and it sets his hands shaking. It always passes quickly, but not fast enough, and he hates it. Sometimes he retches, just to try and get the feeling out of his chest, but it never seems to help. Muttering curses at his hands does nothing to steady them.
What works best is when he gets himself someplace outside, where he can see the sky, breathe the air. Where there shouldn't be anyone around to see.
E - It's Only Chemical - DREAM
Dreams have become hazy and feverish. In all directions, landscapes waver in the distance: debris-strewn beaches, glowing spires piercing high to the clouds, barren craters flashing with lightning, a humble and broken down barn.
There's no way to tell how far away he is from any of the landmarks. All warp as though seen through a heat mirage, and are shrouded by the pinkish fog that swirls around him. A thin bubble is all that protects him from the choking mist, yet his chest already feels tight and strained from trying to breathe. He can't stay here, he needs to pick a direction and go, but still he dithers with labored breathing. They're not safe, none of those places will protect anything. But he won't suffocate there. Is that what matters right now?
There's not a lot of air left.