early january buzz / what I’ve been listening to lately
I never think I’m going to transition smoothly into the next year, that entering into January will feel like hydrogen peroxide on an open wound, the snap of a rubber band, glass shards tearing up the inside of a vacuum. But it only ever faintly feels like that, like a quiet ringing in my ear that I tune out until it eventually fades away after a few weeks. Restlessness has kicked in though, at full force. All I notice, all I write, all I talk about is aging, feeling older, watching my body change without me as I pull at my skin and dig into my cuticles. Forever cursed to live unrelaxed.
The new DJ Sabrina the Teenage DJ has fit this feeling nicely, it’s an incredibly disorienting four hours of multiple sounds going on at once, working in a way that evades words and logic, only hundreds of shimmering blinkers turning the wrong way and accelerating 15 above the speed limit (on I-75 in Florida, where it is encouraged). It always fits into this time of year. As Is (1996) by WE ™ is a great follow up record, spun out and smooth. I turn it on in bed while watching some guy set up a campsite during a snow storm. It is what it is.
I spent a few days at home in Tampa last week, just to confuse the clock a little bit more. My biannual wave of longing to return hit its peak on Saturday as we drove around St. Pete and Gulfport, along I-275 and Central. It was 80 degrees. After going through a few albums on the drive down (Bleeds by Wednesday (I’m deeply moved by “Townies”), Peter Gallway s/t, and Getting Killed (it’s great)), I got caught up in the idea of a late afternoon in spring, floating in the pool, totally disconnected from all time, only place. As if he could gulp into his lungs the components of that moment, the heat of the sun, the intenseness of his pleasure (Cheever, obviously. Forever a recurring theme). I turned to my lazy humid summer late afternoon indie pop playlist, created with Swann Circle in mind, moments in 2014 I only briefly felt then, moments I have a stronger grasp on now. It’s filled with Oh Mercy (pop I liked at the end of high school/early college. Doesn’t do much for me now, but, and I’ve said it before, the version of myself that liked it then, likes it now), Drug Cabin (more on that later), John Andrews & the Yawns, and Drugdealer (theme?). It’s nice.
I keep having dreams of people I no longer wish to have dreams about.
This then, in bad faith, turned to me shuffling through my music i would have liked in high school playlist. This is a playlist I curate for my younger selves, it’s as close as I can get to time travel. I drive through the same streets, amplifying that person that’s still inside of me, only she knows which turns to take. We both feel the drop in our stomach from that curve on 275, coming out of the dip to the jagged view of downtown’s skyline. I imagine her/me ripping these songs from Youtube and Tumblr, in the high school art room after lunch, frustrated by oil paints and brief eye contact, a lingering touch on the shoulder and and and. Drug Cabin has really settled in nicely with me. Found Wiggle Room a few years ago (post-covid?) and loved its lightness, its somber lyrics, but it’s become a favorite of mine lately. Marcus Congleton released EP back in November under the moniker Common Law and that has been in heavy rotation. Some other notable artists on this playlist include: The Clientele, Automatic, James Kirk, Electrelane (I cannot believe this only found me in 2023…), DirtBike, The Autumn Defense, and so on.
I listened only to Lana Del Rey on my way back to Savannah, and I’ve only been listening to her since. It is what it is. Maybe the rest of the month will bring some excitement, something deep enough to make me wish I was here five years from now. Until then, back to Blue Banisters.