Jam
A couple months after the Pandemic started, I created a playlist on spotify which I named “Quarantine Jams.” The premise was that I would capture a couple months worth of songs I was listening to and then everything would return to normal, I would go back to the office and once a year I’d play those 40 songs or so and say “man, that brief pandemic sure was weird, huh?”
And then, a year and 238 songs later, I was like “ok, that’s enough. This is getting out of hand.” Part of what I liked about the Quarantine Jams playlist is that I could mark the passage of time on the list chronologically, and be reminded of the things I was doing during that period of time. Like watching the latest season of Better Call Saul as the pandemic began, or listening to City Hell by Jockstrap on repeat and playing Halo 3 in the fall of 2020. But as the year wore on, time began to smear, and I started to forget when or why or where these songs entered my life.
And so, a year after I started it, I capped off the Quarantine Jams playlist with a song I heard in a horror movie and started a new one. I had no idea how long this one would last. But, as luck would have it, the first song I added was called June, and I happened to add it on June 1st. So ever since, I have composed monthly playlists of new songs I find exciting, ancient songs I have been reminded of, and everything in between.
Like most everyone else, I demarcate tiny epochs of my life based on the songs or albums I was listening to during that period. More than any classes or friendships from 1992, I remember listening to Countdown to Extinction on my walkman while I delivered newspapers. 1995 was riding in Josh Sanchez’ Ford truck listening to London Calling. 1998, was Terraform by Shellac blaring from a tinny boombox above the prep table at Subway. 2002 is Men’s Recovery Project in the claustrophobic WMUA studios doing my radio show “Andy Warhol Sucks a Big One” from 1-3AM on Monday nights. Music and time are inextricably linked. One anchors and makes tangible the other. Music without time feels translucent and weak. Time without music feels like a ruler with no lines.
Look, the point of all this is I am sharing with you my September 2021 playlist. It’s very good and you’ll love it. And if you don’t love it, that’s not my fault. I’m trying my best. Thank you. Goodnight. How do you end a newsletter?