log-02
when larissa pham said "there was a song playing in my head, then. It’s a song I’ve tried to describe to you this whole time, but I think you know it by now."
before spotify became the hub for playlists we know it is today, there was 8tracks. a platform dedicated to sharing and creating playlist with a required number of 8 songs to produce a playlist. i recently accessed my 8tracks account back from 2015. i laughed at the contents under listen again. further reminding me of my desire for certain things (or certain ships). or maybe i really was just a delusional hopeless romantic.
during our adolescence, there seems to be a longing for materialized sentiments. this era of our lives often consisted of our need for expression and relatability through the things we consumed. this was seen in our heavily customized tumblr blogs and reposts filled with our niches (may or may not be kpop boys) and/or going on various fanfiction websites to write stories through characters (also may or may not be kpop boys). the songs no longer just gibberish in the playground. suddenly a song tries to tell us a story that we tie back to ourselves or to somewhere else.
we don’t see this desire fade. this is clearly shown during the covid-19 pandemic, in isolation we need solace from something external. sometimes the words of others especially when tied with a nice beat, can be playing in our head for a moment in time.
apa agbayani in his essay Making mixtapes at the end of the world established his own set of guidelines in making playlists:
1. Have a theme that you can sum up in a sentence. Make this your sieve and see what songs it catches.
2. No two songs by the same artist.
3. Kill all your darlings. Sentimentality gets in the way of good editing.
4. Corollary to 2 and 3: If a song needs to be there, it needs to be there. Gut feel supersedes all rules.
5. Workshop track order to death. Loop the whole thing over and over for yourself and experiment with different arrangements before you let anyone hear it.
it was an artistic exercise of careful combination of pieces to provide a whole picture. apa likens this process to building a world to explore:
If a song speaks of a moment, then what is a playlist but a house of stories you build then hand someone the keys to? Something you construct for another person to wander into on their own.
with 52 playlists (and counting), i am attempting to materialize writing prompts, relationships, and sentiments through the lyricism of different genres in a subscription based streaming platform. what led to this point was a process of continuously curating playlists tied to visual elements.
i obsessed over agnes martin’s series of grid paintings and sketches due to comfort they gave over the seemingly clean lines it showcased. but zooming it in from your device’s screen (or if you’re lucky enough, in front of the canvas itself) and you start to see some crevices. offering a kind of managed debris, assuring us that it’s going to be okay. agnes’ works that showcase tediousness yet evoke calm is admirable in her practice of the craft, as she notes:
Art work is a representation of our devotion to life.
as a writer, there's a constant need to observe and to abstract the material realities. to be able to imagine beyond what surrounds me, exploring the lens of other artists grants me a curiosity to craft words that recognize and rethink beyond the presented. in my playlist inspired by larissa pham’s pop song, i was inspired by her writing of art works and intertwining them with her experiences of a former lover. agnes martin’s summer the artwork cited by larissa to convey her compressed longing.
In Summer, Martin has captured the longing I feel when I think of the blue of distances I cannot close, and in putting it somewhere where I can see it, she closes that distance. Somewhere in there, too: a little joy, tempering all that wanting. It soothes my anxieties about mimesis, about replication, about what I fear is the ultimate failure of communication. Because if across time and space I can still feel spoken to, by a hand reaching through that distance—if I can be moved and understood, then maybe I can make something myself that conveys an understanding. For that’s something I’ve always worried about: that I keep making things that don’t mean what I want them to mean.
in the enormity of my desire disgusts me i borrow the line from richard siken’s birds hover the trampled field, and convey the overwhelming anxiety that comes with wanting. the lovers by rene magritte seals the desire and confusion waiting to burst at the seams, reaching for a kiss.
in look after you, i simply want to hold my partner’s hand. paired with holly warbuton’s making amends, i reach out to her.
many friends also had their fair share of making playlists. den gathered remnants of all her love. arielle narrates further (or rather iterates) in etcetera neal has 154 playlists (and counting) for consolation. brin simply remembers it was raining in espana. loaf introduces himself, whabam!
it almost feels like betrayal to admit that i’ve enjoyed crafting playlists more than writing any kind of literary thing for the past couple of months. there’s something so accessible yet long-winded in the process. communicating through artists, who likely have never interacted, yet convey experiences and emotions that sing the same song a lot of us have tried to tell someone clearer than any other way.
for now, this is my devotion to live.
some other things:
there it is!!! the promised playlist substack !!!u were the one who told me na curation is an act of love so i always cherish everything you recommend or send to me. there rly is artistry in plucking often disparate songs and grounding them with context. it's like an auditory scrapbook. thank u for the playlist recs !!!!!
omg i love thisss ! i love making playlists sm , theres something about curating a playlist that feels so satisfying , capturing an intimate moment of ur life using other people's art. & thank u for a book rec too !!!!