Who is flat keith shivers

Lance scoffs. The next half hour drags by. The store is nearly empty, so Keith shifts over to the dollar section and begins trying to organize it. When he touches the back of his hand to his cheek, his skin burns unnaturally.

When he goes on break, he hunches deeper into his jacket and sends Lance a text. Lance responds within seconds. Keith shivers as he looks outside. He scowls. With a deep breath, Keith steps outside and dashes through the parking lot.

Within seconds, his hair is clinging to his face, and he can barely keep his eyes open against the stinging rain. Keith shivers hard; his body has gone rigid with cold and his voice comes out sharp. The pain in his face bursts in his sinuses, and a groan grates against his throat.

Keith lets out another sneeze, too exhausted and shivery to hold them back anymore. He blindly fishes in the glove compartment for the napkins Lance hoards from fast food restaurants as his breath continues wobbling. He inhales with a sharp gasp and curls into himself, clutching a handful of napkins to his face as another sneeze rocks through him.

He sniffles hard, grimacing at how his sinuses sting, and clears his throat in an effort to make his voice sound more normal. Lance rolls his eyes. Keith pushes his dripping hair out of his face, a chill going through him. Even after running through the rain, his face feels hot against the cold window. I just need to warm up. Lance lets out a soft sigh. Keith blinks slowly. Lance bites his lip uncertainly. Keith opens the thermos and stirs the spoon through the soup.

Hunk made the same thing at the very beginning of the semester when Pidge, Lance, and most of the school came down with colds. Keith wrinkles his nose slightly as he takes another bite of soup. Keith shrugs and goes back to eating his soup. He shoves the thermos into the cupholder as his breath begins to falter, his eyelashes fluttering and hand hovering by his mouth. A few seconds later, he lurches forward with a sneeze that he feels all the way down in his ribs.

Keith pulls the thermos back into his lap and sniffles. The two of them sit in relative silence while Keith eats his soup; Lance tells him about some of his classes but keeps the talking to a minimum since Keith keeps rubbing his forehead gingerly.

The rain pounds on the car roof, and the wind gusts across the deserted parking lot. He sits there quietly for a few seconds, chewing his lip and watching the rain through the windshield. Keith turns to watch as Lance fishes around in the backseat. Both are deliberately lo-fi, at points brilliant, but burdened with excess tracks.

At the same time, she pushed Keith, who has no formal training, to become a better player. Keith suggests they head to Flushing and rehearse now. Moreover, the song deals with idealized romantic love, a subject that borders on obsession for Keith. Short of Bieber, nobody sings about love as frequently or directly.

He not only circles the subject again and again, he also revisits particular songs. In other instances, songs reappear under different titles. There are a few motivations for the constant reworking. One is the involvement of Jo: many of the revised tracks were originally made in Jo-less sessions, and each time her presence is introduced the song gains a new vitality.

He wants to write his book and he wants to rap. The band sets up in front of the altar, and orients itself toward the empty pews. This is mostly for the benefit of Andy, the drummer, who has to learn it on the fly.

Andy tries to ride along, but Jo keeps on stopping him, telling him to do less, to let things build gradually. There is nothing simple about the song. He told me rehearsals could be a grind. This rehearsal was grueling at times. Yet, as grueling as it was, rehearsal was also the first time that day that I noted some kind of flow or easiness in the group. By the end, it was all smiles. Keith and Jo have a connection when they play.

Jo enters something like a frenzy: hips swaying, right foot stomping the ground in time, hair falling all over her face. He stares at her, calm and level. When rehearsal ends, we find ourselves, thanks to a slippery doorstop and some misplaced keys, temporarily locked out of the church. Andy has to lower wiry Keith through an open stained glass window. As Keith closes the trunk on the amps, guitars, keyboards, stands, etc. Sad Eyes dons a fitted Yankee cap, pulled down low. Sad Eyes does not wear a shirt.

Like many rappers, Sad Eyes is a misogynist. Keith told me at lunch that this was a deliberate pose intended to bring attention to misogyny, which Keith hates. Keith sees his raps as ideological companions to his love songs. The difference, he thinks, is that the raps can be more profitable. Keith can rap and his gravelly voice is ideally suited for being an MC. The fact that Keith would do a from love songs to rap is in keeping with his character. He produced literature, gave speeches, distributed pamphlets in front of the Museum of Sex in Manhattan.

The statement received a chuckle because, you know, who breaks up the band right after a record release party? I asked if this was for real. I gave up everything to play these songs.

As the song progresses, the narrator only gets further away, his observations becoming more and more remote. It ends with an inevitable, delirious confession of undying devotion. After the show, Jo merrily works the merch stand, selling More vinyls and Shivers t-shirts. The Shivers are scheduled to play Glasslands in Brooklyn on June 29th. The show has not been cancelled. He blogs sporadically.