Hello, and welcome to my first interactive post. Before we officially begin, let’s establish what exactly is going on here. First, if you’re reading this in your email, please go ahead and click on the “view in browser” button, as seen here:
Welcome to your browser. Here, Spotify links should be playable from the same page you are reading from. That’s the interactive part. I’ll be linking some songs that I want to be playing from your speakers as you read the paragraphs immediately following said Spotify links. Let’s practice.
The song is playing. It’s light, it's airy. Now it’s telling you it’s your birthday. You feel like you’re eight years old again. Oops, they didn’t say “Happy birthday dear [your name]”, they just kept saying happy birthday. Now they’re continuing to sing it in a weird bridge or something? Ok, now we’re back to normal.
See what I mean? I think this is the best idea I’ve ever had. Let’s get started.
It’s important for you to know something about me: I’m no longer logged in to the bad website. This is a big, new part of my personality. I’m simply not looking over there anymore. I’ve grown past it. I have elevated past something unnecessary to the human condition. I am better for it.
So, imagine my surprise when I logged back into the bad website to find that someone had @’d me. They had to gall to both interact with me after I had posted about my logging off, and to ask me one of life’s best socializing questions:
Obviously I couldn’t reply to him there, because I’m no longer logged in to the bad website. But instead of texting him back where no one could see my good answers, I had an incredible “I live on the internet” answer: a blog post where I can talk about songs while the reader listens to that song. Shoutout Dan (his own answers are good, and correct). Shoutout the internet. Let’s tackle this query.
What I listen to when I work
The real question here: what work are you doing? I currently work two jobs, neither of which involve a computer. But this question, for me, in the year 2023, assumes computer work. So, this is what I listen to…
When I’m writing
(Press play, then continue reading) Movie soundtracks are the right answer to this question. In 2010, Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross perfected the artform. The scracthing strings and subtle piano of The Social Network’s score lulls you into a place of comfort, and also a place of loneliness. Writing is lonely work. The real innovation here is what the two musicians surrounded the melody with: scratchy, whirring tension. The heart and emotion are buried in noise, in static, a perfect representation of the modern battle of technology, creativity, society. I’m assuming you are currently simultaneously swelling with a certain emotion, and also grinding against another. You are in the perfect place to battle yourself on the field of combat (a blank google document).
Before continuing, I want to invite you to experience this reading process either way you want: you can let songs play out in their entirety (hardcore mode), or you can simply press play on the next track when you are done reading the associated writing (I-have-work-to-do mode).
(Press play) Bang, track two of the soundtrack is moving, and so are you. Through the tension and hidden heart of track one, you have found the thread of your idea, and now your fingers are dancing across your keyboard, a rough draft streaming from neuron to fingernail. You’re cooking. This is what I listen to when I’m writing.
The rest of the soundtrack moves you along just as well. Basically every score that Atticus and Trent have done together is absolute magic. They won the Academy Award for their work on Pixar’s Soul, which is great work, and they did weirdly cool shit on David Fincher’s Mank. No, I’m not joking. Why are you laughing?
The score for The Social Network has been mimicked beyond count, including another go-to for my creative work, Daniel Pemberton’s Steve Jobs soundtrack.
(Press play) Before going any further, let me acknowledge that I am fully aware that this list — so far and in the following sections — is very emblematic of white male american taste. Two of my favorite sources (so far, and continued in this section) are from movies about Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg and former Apple CEO Steve Jobs (among other sad white guys). I’m in on the joke, and I am always ready to laugh at myself about it. Feel free to join in.
(okay, I had to soundtrack that paragraph with something. What was that selection like? This experiment is so weird. Let’s push forward.)
(Press play) There is another north star in this genre, and this one is for all my proudly frequent criers: Nicholas Britell, and his collaborations with Barry Jenkins on If Beale Street Could Talk and Moonlight. Beale Street is my most replayed album ever, probably. It helps me feel whatever I am feeling. It gives me fuel to chase rabbits down their holes, falling into whatever worlds they take me into. That movie is genuinely special, and moving, and heartbreaking, and inspires me so, so much. Britell and Jenkins are both unquestionable geniuses, and we should breathe in their art as frequently as possible. This opening track, filled almost exclusively with strings, is so simple, yet packs an incredible punch: the slow, slow pace, and the dragging from one note to another brings so much weight and darkness. The lone violin crying out to be heard, a short moment of a fluttering horn peppering in brightness beyond the dark. This is unparalleled stuff.
While we’re living in some wonderful emotion, let me touch briefly on some other “white guy is sad” movie music that is in my cannon, for sure. Hans Zimmer’s work on The Thin Red Line absolutely features in my lists, as well as Dave Wingo’s sparse and eerie score for Take Shelter. Zimmer likely shows up for most men who work on computers, as men who computer also frequently movie, and men who movie frequently movie with superheroes and/or Christopher Nolan. Interstellar, Man of Steel, Blade Runner 2049, the list is so long. I’ll say it: the guy is good.
(Press play) The next song on the soundtrack, here, shows the ability to paint with different colors, not just sadness and tired love, but with possibility and yearning and wonder. The genius of the movie-soundtrack-as-work-background is the attempt to represent the entire range of human emotion in music, allowing you to move and be moved throughout your own process, leading you into different places of yourself, allowing you to create and be creative. Additionally, they are typically sonically subtle and lyricless, which allows me to also work outside of the music’s influence; not ignoring the intentions of the current track I’m on, but thinking outside of it if I am on a roll in what I am writing.
(Press play) Following in the footsteps of the “swelling emotion” work of movie composers, a huge resource of music for my writing is the “Friday Night Lights” genre: artists that are instrumental or non-english that are very emotional, and very much focused on tension and release and huge emotional crescendos. Explosions in the Sky, This Will Destroy You, Sigur Ros, M83, and so on. About now, maybe the lyrics to Hoppipolla have started. Do you speak this language? I don’t. But their vocals are beautiful, and cohere with the instrumentation to fill my heart with something that I like feeling. This gets the people going.
Another great genre that shares Sigur Ros is the “...what?” genre, which for me is based almost entirely on the unparalleled vocal work of Elizabeth Fraser, most notably of Cocteau Twins fame. The playfulness of lyrics you can’t quite make out, in your native language or not, is a great stimulant for me in my mostly passive listening-while-working. Fraser’s work with Massive Attack on their fourth record Mezzanine is particularly great. You’ll recognize this one, I’m sure. Oh, and she was a vocalist on another great installment of cinematic work music: the Lord of the Rings trilogy soundtracks.
(Press play) Look out! My second writing persona has taken over. It’s actually a great transition from the Massive Attack portion of work music. This persona needs to bop his head and occasionally disconnect from his screen for two bars of general jiving. I’m not the world’s biggest fan of dancing, but I might be the world’s biggest viber. Music absolutely propels me to movement, they’re just small movements, from an outsider’s perspective. The percussionist in me, while writing this sentence and listening to this same song, is moving so subtly to the beat that you may never notice. But, god help me, I am vibing so hard.
Another important change in the music here is the BPM — beats per minute. Oh, you’re behind on a deadline, and don’t have time to luxuriate in the music pondering of life’s most important questions (how many millions of dollars should I settle out of court with my best friend)? Crank up the tempo, let your shoulders shimmy, and start pounding keys. Turn up the heat, turn up the intensity, turn up the WPM — words per minute.
(Press play) Look out! It sounds like this song is continuing straight from some unheard previous track (or maybe even the last one we just played). You’re right, it is! And that’s why deadmau5’s droning house music has stayed in my rotation for fifteen years (I am filled with dread at the realization of that amount of time having passed). In a few seconds, you’ll hear the start of what I connect with most with this artist’s music, which is the stripping away of most elements of the song, and just the pounding of some simple chords that will be left to echo for a measure, creating a different version of tension and release, and after some repetition of this give-and-take, we’re going to shift the methods in which we repeat these same chords and progressions, all while maintaining the same drum loop at a steady, driving pace. Pressing play on albums like this guarantee you an hour of momentum, and that is very useful.
To prove my dedication to losing my mind for extended periods of time when I first started listening to deadmau5, I learned how to use music production software to take my favorite deadmau5 tracks, change their tempos, and layer them into each other, creating a seamless, two-hour single track of music that I would listen to while working, walking to class, cooking, practicing Starcraft II, and otherwise being conscious. Good shit, deadmau5.
(Press play) Look out! A total vibe shift. A saxophone that’s nearly blowing out the microphone, a cacophony of surrounding noise: piano, bells and wooden wind chimes and tambourines and fives of other percussion instruments, a flute, a bass. What else can you pick out? Should you be trying to pick out pieces and portions of music? You’re working here! Okay, so maybe this is the track we start our session with.
Okay, it eventually kind of settles into something with shape and coherence. You’re getting used to the chaos. You can work with this. This is the busy coffee shop of experimental jazz. Slowly, the voice of the saxophone is taking center stage, everything else slowing down, slowing down. Two minutes in, something new is starting to take over; something with structure, and form, and a groove. Now we’re cooking. Time to work. You’re working. You’re crushing pages. You haven’t checked your thesaurus in minutes, you haven’t checked your hand-written notes from the week. You check the run-time on this song. You don’t believe it. You go back to your work. 32 minutes later, you’ve got a couple thousand good words on paper.
Yeah, Pharoah Sanders is the one for writing and creating. Alice Coltrane is tied with him for first. Please, go dig into those records the next time you open a doc or a spreadsheet.
(Press play) Ok, sheesh, let’s take a break. For the sake of brevity, but more so for the sake of letting myself cook more broadly, let’s start thinking about other forms of work in which music will very much motivate and lubricate our actions. I’m going to name a job that I, or you, might be doing, and then play a song for that work, with maybe some context about why it works for me, and why it might work for you. Are you ready? Would you like to let this five minute track of silence play out? Let’s do that.
(is this thing working? are you even subscribed to spotify? does that matter for this? does this work at all on mobile? you better be reading from a computer. you don’t have a computer? is this 1998? what are you doing without a computer?)
Okay.
Working in a warehouse
(Press play) A tasty guitar lick. This song sounds like it rocks. Here’s a dude screaming. Now we’re rocking with a guy who sounds like he started smoking at age 14. The remastered version of The Replacements’ Tim is perfect for a big, cavernous workplace filled with other people who are lifting heavy things. Love the Replacements? Let’s celebrate their work with this incredible work of remastering. Never heard of them? Let this anthem fill your soul with energy and verve for some cause you don’t even recognize. This gets the people going.
(Press play) That’s right. In a warehouse environment, it’s good to actually get the people movin’. Jessie Ware’s use of some timeless disco vibes and her not-yet-stadium-filling popularity makes her, and songs like this, a great choice for energy injection in a space with other people you might not know well. Ware gives you a chance for a “damn, who’s this?” from your neighbor. When I’m packing orders and repeating mundane tasks, I want my music to be repeating with me, but repeating with life and excitement and grooves. Baby, don’t you stop.
Working on falling asleep
(Press play) More subtle piano coming into play. The fidelity of the recording is wonderful, the striking of the piano keys audible. There’s more slight building and release of tension. There’s enough pace and character in this to grab your attention, which doesn’t feel completely perfect for trying to fall asleep. But, alas, a violin comes into play, the textures of the string audible as well. It leans into the sadness of the piano. Am I sad? Lullabies are sad. Am I being lulled?
This track, a continuous single-track version of a mixtape selected by the electronic artist Bonobo, is made with the intention of winding down for the night. It even ends with Benedict Cumberbatch reading a segment of a bedtime story. This actually makes great writing music, as well, filled with favorites like Khruangbin, Menahan Street Band, BADBADNOTGOOD, Bill Evans, and others. Bonobo himself makes wonderful, picturesque, picture-perfect writing music. This one’s a bang-for-your-buck treat.
Working in a field detasseling corn and you’re 15 years old
(Press play) This sounds like a fun track. Playful drums, background guitar, we’re building up to something. Is this some forgotten pop-rock hit? Wait, shit, that’s what’s happening here? Why does this sound so angry? You’re only 15, dude. Who let kids my age have a Zune and access to a computer with Napster? This whole record still goes hard, by the way.
Working a nine to five
(Press play) hah, got you
Working on your first negroni of the night while your partner is on a work trip
(Press play) Mmmmmm. The call of a single saxophone, a piano, a vocalist. This is perfect for you, a distinguished gentleman who drinks a negroni to enjoy himeself. You listen to only the most sultry and tasteful and lush production and instrumentations, like this whole damn record from Terrace Martin, Robert Glasper, and Kamasi Washington. Phoelix lends his voice here, and elsewhere across the tracklist. Mmmm-mmm. We’re vibing.
Working on shoveling the driveway for the third time tonight and you’re 15 years old
(Press play) this kid is all over the place
Working on the weekend
(Press play) hah, got you again
Working on getting ready to go out tonight and you’re taking two hours in the bathroom and your my oldest sister
(Press play) Oh come on, really? It’s 2023 and your taste in music has never budged and it’s obvious as hell. Grow up, let someone else use the bathroom. This whole record still goes hard, by the way.
Working on your second negroni of the night while your partner is on a work trip
(Press play) Ooh, more sultry and subtle. The lights are off and the drink is in my hand, glass sweaty with condensation, the contents the red of blood. You nailed this recipe. Ooh, there’s some finger snapping on the track, the two and the four. We’re swaying left and right, we’re grooving, we’re chilling, could the vibes be any better.
Working on your fourth negroni of the night while your partner is on a work trip
(Press play) Oops, you’re spiraling.
Working your way out of this project
Press play.
Thanks, as always, for reading. And listening, I guess. Did this format work at all? Can people even listen to these songs like I intended? Am I allowed to post this many links in one piece? I am operating under the assumption that everyone I want to work will work. That has never let anyone down.
If I let you down, here’s a playlist of everything I talked about here. Maybe I should have done that in the first place. Oops, too late.
If you enjoyed this, please consider subscribing. It’s free, and let’s me see who my readers are, and what things that people actually click on and read. I want to reach and please people in addition to exploring my own creative ambitions. Subscribing helps.
That’s it for this week. Hopefully some of these tracks were new to you. If not literally new, maybe a new context has been applied to them, opening something new for you. See you next time, with something more.
TTFN,
B