{Read} {PDF EPUB} ~Download Rock Me by Olivia Marks Planners Approve 779-Home Boiling Springs Subdivision
Total Page：16
File Type：pdf, Size：1020Kb
{Read} {PDF EPUB} ~download Rock Me by Olivia Marks Planners approve 779-home Boiling Springs subdivision. A 779-home development near the highly traveled Highway 9 corridor in Boiling Springs has received preliminary approval. The Spartanburg County Planning Commission this week gave the nod to that and four other housing subdivisions in the county. In all, the five projects total more than 1,100 homes. The biggest of the group by far is called "The Springs," a 779-home subdivision of patio homes on a 268-acre site on Double Bridge Road along Hanging Rock Road, west of Highway 9 and near the North Spartanburg Sports Complex in Boiling Springs. Mark III Properties of Spartanburg is the developer. Last year, an average of 7,600 vehicles a day traveled Highway 9 near Old Furnace Road in Boiling Springs, just north of the subdivision site. In 2016, the average was 6,900 vehicles a day, and the year before, 6,800 vehicles a day, according to the S.C. Department of Transportation. Although the highway was widened a few years ago, planning officials have said traffic counts have steadily increased in the corridor due to growth. Developer Jay Beeson with Mark III Properties said traffic will be addressed to minimize the impact on local roads. "We will have a full traffic study performed by a licensed traffic engineer in order to determine what upgrades may be warranted by the county or SCDOT," Beeson said. The developer has already begun clearing the land at the site. Other new projects. Spartanburg County's residential growth isn't limited to Boiling Springs, though. Other projects planners approved this week: Olivia Springs is a 144-patio home development planned for 55 acres along Cedar Springs Road, south of Southport Road in Spartanburg County. Mark III Properties is also the developer for Olivia Springs. It will be in the Croft Fire District and in Spartanburg School District 7, according to the plans. Reid Park is a 98-lot subdivision with single-family homes on 31 acres that fronts Duncan-Reidville Road and is next to Boiter Road in Duncan. The developer is Daven Acker of Spartanburg. Las Casas at Inman is a 49-lot subdivision planned on 34 acres off Clark Road and east of Pine Lane and Maxwell Street in Inman. The developer and home builder is Niemitalo Inc. of Inman. Niemitalo is also planning a 32-lot, single-family home subdivision on 21 acres on Highway 357, between Bruce and Rector roads in Lyman. It is called Christian Creek. On 'Sour,' Olivia Rodrigo Is A Lowercase Girl With Caps-Lock Feelings. Lowercase girls tend to fly under the radar by design, but once you start looking you'll see them everywhere. For one thing, they've been all over the streaming charts in the past few years: folklore , evermore , "thank u, next," girl in red, mxmtoon, dodie, beabadoobee, how i'm feeling now , "drivers license," "deja vu," "good 4 u" — to name just a few recent, femme-forward musical phenomena that wouldn't even think of imposing the tyranny of capital letters on the listener's imagination. But lowercase girls have been there forever, in the back rows of classrooms and the corners of parties, daydreaming, doodling, stockpiling vivid details and observations in the marble notebooks of their minds — waiting for the precise moment to launch them like a carefully crafted dart that punctures everybody else's apathy and proves just how sharply she has been paying attention. Some of the best of them never grow out of it. "My only advantage as a reporter," Joan Didion wrote in 1968, unwittingly describing her own species perfectly, "is that I am so physically small, so temperamentally unobtrusive, and so neurotically inarticulate that people tend to forget that my presence runs counter to their best interests. And it always does." Beware the lowercase girl. Although she is usually overlooked, underestimated and even ignored, she sometimes turns out to be the one who's been writing the story all along. Such were the cultural forces that Olivia Rodrigo harnessed, streamlined and gloriously melo-dramatized earlier this year in her breakout single, "drivers license" — stylized all lowercase, because of course. A lifelong Swiftie (almost literally: When Taylor Swift's self-titled debut album came out, Rodrigo was 3) and the daughter of a therapist, Rodrigo was raised to be the kind of person who didn't exactly hide her feelings. On the chorus of the song that accelerated her to overnight fame, she saves her most impassioned vocal delivery for what she clearly considers to be her ex's most grievous crime: Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me . The implication being that in her songs, defiantly, she means every word. In the last few years, given the success of Billie Eilish's ASMR jams and Swift's soft acoustic reveries — "lowercase girl album" bona fides that were documented by Jill Gutowitz in Vulture last year — it has sometimes felt like pop musicians are playing one big round of the Quiet Game, daring each other into an ever more provocative hush. "drivers license" certainly benefits from that tonal shift, but the most moving thing about the song is actually its careening sense of dynamism, the way it swings repeatedly from a private muttering to a collective, belt-it-out exorcism of the heart. Such is the power of That Bridge. (Perhaps the surest indication of the song's massive, cross-generational appeal is the fact that its bridge inspired both a TikTok challenge and an SNL skit — some kids may have been editing their small-screen video responses to it as their parents watched the episode on some old technological innovation called live TV.) Rodrigo's songs play out like bottled-up soliloquies rather than two- sided conversations, which gives them the emotional force of someone who has previously felt unheard (by an apathetic boyfriend, or maybe by adult society writ large) finally speaking her mind. And so that bridge exposes the great irony of not only "drivers license," but the lowercase girl herself. Because on the inside, where all the feelings are, her caps-lock key is JAMMED. Music Reviews. Lindsay Zoladz Discusses Olivia Rodrigo's 'Sour' on All Things Considered. Olivia Rodrigo Bridges Generations On Her Debut Album 'Sour' "drivers license" would have been a hard act for any new artist to follow, but in the past month, Rodrigo has seized every opportunity to prove that there's more to her than even that song could fully showcase. The two singles she's released in the lead-up to her debut album, Sour , have effortlessly slipped into unexpected genres — who among us could have predicted that the "drivers license" girl would go scorched-earth pop- punk on her third single, or that she'd pull it off? — and both have been sprinkled with striking, cleverly documented observational details. "Trading jackets, laughing 'bout how small it looks on you," she sings on the hypnotic "deja vu," as a chorus of backup Olivias exhale a scathing line of canned, can-barely-be-bothered laughter at such a romantic cliché: ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha . "Guess the therapist I found for you, she really helped," she shrugs on "good 4 u" — one of those kung fu lyrics that cuts its intended target in seven different places before he even realizes he's bleeding. Rodrigo's songs have lived-in details to spare, as though she had all this time been assembling a detailed dossier on the emotional minutiae of the teenage experience. The remarkably potent Sour , out today, plays a similar game of bait-and-switch with expectations. Far from the muted chords of "drivers license"—and worlds away from the musical-theater sheen of her songs for Disney+'s High School Musical: The Musical: The Series — the album's opening track, "brutal," crashes in with a torrent of loud, crunchy guitars, overtop of which Rodrigo's dryly compressed voice lists a seemingly unending string of adolescent neuroses: "And I don't stick up for myself / I'm anxious and nothing can help / And I wish I'd done this before / And I wish people liked me more." The and and and and 's pile up like a teetering Jenga tower of stress. Rodrigo proved on "good 4 u" that she can do a very effective vocal sneer, and on "brutal" she saves her most caustic one for the adults who insist, in their rose-colored recollections, that their teenage years were the best of their lives. "I'm so sick of 17," she sighs, "where's my f****** teenage dream?!" It's an exhilarating lyric, an expertly calibrated eye roll at anyone over the age of 18 — or maybe even at the previous generation's entire philosophy about how pop music should be made. "I'm very emo," Rodrigo said in a recent Rolling Stone video interview, sitting beside her co-writer and producer Dan Nigro. "Dan was in an emo band, and he still tells me I'm emo — that's how you know you're really emo." Now 39, Nigro used to be the frontman of the Long Island-based band As Tall as Lions, who found moderate success in the booming East Coast emo-punk scene of the early aughts. He might seem an unlikely musical partner for Rodrigo, until you remember that perhaps the most prominent current producer of pop music made by young women, Jack Antonoff, is a veteran of the very same scene. (His first band, New Jersey-based Steel Train, was signed to the beloved, influential pop-punk label Drive-Thru Records.) But as a one-time lowercase girl / emo kid / Drive-Thru Records enthusiast from suburban New Jersey, I do find it pretty surprising that two of the most successful producers in crafting pop music from a feminine point of view came out of that scene.