Essays and rock & roll. Looking and listening. Nostalgia versus skepticism. Sound and sense.
Tuesday, January 7, 2020
When listening to the "Liked Songs" playlist on Spotify, seven out of ten songs I'll ask myself, The hell was I thinking? A liked song seems, in my case at least, to be an indicator of what mood I was in when I heard it, less a bet for ever liking the song again. Apparently I was in the mood for this song on that day—was it my state of mind? Was I depressed? Elated? Sometimes it appears that I liked a song because I dug the ending—on that day, I needed a Baroque finish to things, on another day a brusque, fuck-you collapse of an ending. On another day I needed Merseybeat pop, or maybe an approximation of Merseybeat—was I in a generous mood? On anther day I apparently needed lo-fi punk, its mean attitude soundtracking things perfectly. And I guess I was in the mood for an eleven-minute mood piece on another day—that doesn't seem much like me, but on that day I was him. The day before I liked a two minute DIY pop gem that felt unbearably twee to me a week later. Will I ever like these songs again as much as I needed when I pressed the heart? Which begs the question, or more: what songs do I like that that transcend the moodiness of, say, a rainy Wednesday afternoon when I feel trapped, ennui like water over my head? What songs do I like that I'll like no matter my mood, or my age or time in life, or state of mind? You have your list, I have mine.
And I wont bother to name the bands on my Spotify "Liked" list because I don't want to offend an artist or group that today meant nothing to me as I listened in the car while choring, because tomorrow they might speak to me, might soundtrack a given moment, more urgently and with more force than ever. We'll see.