Playlist #16: I wish my head was empty

I had no idea what I was writing here, until I realized I am very much on the edge of burning out.

I remember watching Fringe for the first time. It was 2008, and I had that job for an American TV website, and as a person who (believe it or not) didn’t really watch a lot of scripted television, I felt I had to catch up. Specifically, I had to be able to say I watched a J.J. Abrams series—this was the time when Lost was a big thing, and yet I had never watched an episode. Well, I ended up being assigned that show for its final season, and I wrote a 16-part series on watching all previous episodes for the first time. That’s no longer on the Internet, or on my archives, which I regret.

Anyway, my point was, I was rewatching Fringe lately. I’ve been meaning to for years, especially considering how that trippy-yet-surprisingly-emotional series ended up being one of my favorite television shows ever. (When Nat asked me which episode of television I consider the greatest, I answered, with no hesitation, “White Tulip”.) One of the episodes begins with Peter (played by Joshua Jackson) flirting with a girl in a diner and somehow getting her interested enough to make a playlist for him. Specifically, burn him a CD. “I like your eyes,” the waitress—who ends up dead, I must add—says.

So I thought about my playlists. These playlists. This playlist. Who is it for? Me, come to think of it—this is just another installment of me making a monthly log of what happened based on the songs I ended up listening to a lot. But the hubris of me, thinking my tastes, this random hour of songs that’s nominally from all over but not really, would be of interest to a wider audience. Maybe you’d like it, but chances are you’ve already heard some of the songs on here, because I’m no tastemaker and I just rely on what’s being pushed on the radio stations I listen to.

Take Faye Webster. I realize that I really like her vibe, how she presents as a singer-songwriter but springs that hip-hop influence on you. And funny thing is, I already knew this before—”Come to Atlanta” gets all jazzy after leaning more towards the twang in the first half of Atlanta Millionaires Club, for instance. Underdressed at the Symphony broadens her sonic palette even further—and I included “But Not Kiss” on Playlist #11, so I already knew this, but I was surprised to hear the title track end with a symphonic flourish. Something about how she watched an orchestra performance whenever she felt like it? It is a nice, adventurous little thing.

Or take Elbow. See, my tastes are arguably basic if you’re a snob, but I really like the expressiveness of Guy Garvey’s voice, and their new album Audio Vertigo is no exception. It’s funny how he didn’t think much of “Her to the Earth”—something about how he initially difficulty making sense of the groove of the song—and yet ended up making magic out of what is my favorite track from the record. It is groovy… but it also isn’t? How do I put it, exactly? It’s not in your face, and you can resist dancing to it, but it makes its way into your head anyway.

These past few weeks I realized I actually miss Lucy Rose. But then, I’ll have to admit that her last record didn’t do much for me because it was a bit too hushed for my mood at the time. But her voice has always been magical too—it’s a coo, but not really—and now I think I just wanted to hear it in a different setting. I remember discovering her through “Lines” and falling for, again, that rumble combined with her delicate vocal. Now I hear “Over When It’s Over”, a single off her upcoming This Ain’t The Way You Go Out record, and I realize that her voice coupled by a jazzy backdrop and a flute is something I’ve always wanted to hear.

And then I realize, I have a lot of albums I have yet to listen to in my queue, regardless of my “this weekend’s listening” posts on the Once Monthly’s social media accounts. I haven’t listened to the new Ariana Grande record, so I haven’t had the chance to figure out if “We Can’t Be Friends (Wait For Your Love)” is a song that would send me to a mini-spiral. But then, it’s probably also why I’ve been listening to stuff that’s a little more… languid. My queue also has the new album from Belgian band Amatorski, a band that wouldn’t otherwise be on the radar if not for the fact that I’m still listening to that one Belgian radio station, and the fact that I mistook “20/04” for a Yeah Yeah Yeahs song because of my perceived similarity between Inne Eysermans and Karen O.

I remember trying to write about this on Instagram and failing because I just couldn’t make sense of the words definitively. I figure it’s a good thing. It also meant I listened to this song a lot.

So… yeah. This does seem like a basic playlist. Not that I’m not proud of it. I like the songs that I put in there, and as always I will talk more about the other songs on social media in the coming weeks. It’s just been a very weird last few weeks. March has been both ordinary and a steady kind of busy, which meant I had time to listen to a lot of songs and put the ones that stood out together—but not to write about it here. I’m actually writing this the night before it goes live, after I had gone to an event and tried to perform miracles when I’m not able, or willing, to. I mean, I am just so tired.

I realized last night—and yes, this is a break in tradition because I should just be writing about March here, and not April—that I have hit a wall and therefore have become a little more vulnerable to emotional spin-outs. I supposed when you talk of love teams—you can answer which one by considering I have Bini and Itchyworms on this hour—you think of… things, and you say you’re fine, but you’re not, because failures have a way of staring at you in the face and not letting go. And then they tell you to let go, but you’re too tired to realize you can just loosen the grip—but you know you’ve done it before.

It also didn’t help that it’s been so hot this month. Despite what the photo suggests, my cat isn’t having any fun. And April isn’t going to be better. Well, it isn’t better.

They say you should be kinder to yourself, but frankly, I think they only say it because they don’t want to be involved in whatever it is you’re up to. Me, in the end, I wish my head was empty.

Let’s hope next month’s essay makes more sense. I literally don’t know where I’m going in the coming days, so I’m still blank. But then, I suppose you get that when you don’t try to make a theme out of something… anyway, my next playlist drops on 10 May, but another Plaka Note drops on 26 April. Until then, I’ll see you on the socials, or on nicksyoncemonthly@gmail.com if you have a recommendation.

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On the playlist

• Kirsty MacColl—“A New England”
  single release (1984)

• PNAU—“So High” (featuring Emily Wurramarra)
  Hyperbolic (2024)

• Flight Facilities—“Trouble” (featuring Owl Eyes)
  single release (2024)

• Bini—“Lagi”
  Feel Good (2022)

• Ena Mori—“Heartache Generation”
  single release (2024)

• Maxïmo Park—“Favourite Songs”
  single release (2024)

• Kim Se-jeong—“집에 가자” (Let’s Go Home)
  I’m (2021)

• Elbow—“Her to the Earth”
  Audio Vertigo (2024)

• Babygirl—“Million Dollar Bed”
  Losers Weepers (2021)

• Amatorski—“20/04”
  Curves and Bends, Things Veer (2024)

• Faye Webster—“Underdressed at the Symphony”
  Underdressed at the Symphony (2024)

• Bess Atwell—“Release Myself”
  Light Sleeper (2024)

• Lucy Rose—“Over When It’s Over”
  This Ain’t The Way You Go Out (2024)

• Peter and Gordon—“A World Without Love”
  Peter and Gordon (1964)

• Itchyworms—“Love Team”
  Noon Time Show (2005)

• The Doobie Brothers—“What A Fool Believes”
  Minute by Minute (1978)