Various Artists - Misguided Wish for Fire's Song - 2024 Pt. 1 (2024)

My car is an '04 Corolla that has no Bluetooth and no AUX. It has the radio and a CD player. Sure, I could get a new stereo system installed, but I've weirdly fallen back in love with the art of the mix CD. No matter how well they come together, Spotify playlists always feel unfinished to me, whereas with a mix CD, you finalize a playlist and actually create a physical artifact of it. Much more satisfying. Less practical, of course, but more satisfying.

So this is the most recent one that I've made, and it's a collection of some of my favorite songs that have been released this year so far. It's not comprehensive, and it definitely wasn't made for public consumption, but it hasn't left my CD player for two weeks now, and it's what I have for you. Here's a quick rundown of the track list. Sorry if this is weird, I don't know what the hell life is anymore.

1. Lætitia Sadier - "Cloud 6"

The last song on Rooting for Love, which is probably my favorite Sadier solo record. The abrupt, borderline jump-scare ending is brilliant.

2. Amaro Freitas - "Sonho Ancestral"

Brazilian jazz piano. Buoyant and reflective.

3. Grandaddy - "Long as I'm Not the One"

A shiny, mid-paced sad-sack ballad among a collection of shiny, mid-paced sad-sack ballads.

4. Gesaffelstein - "Hard Dreams"

Reminds me of the golden age of electroclash.

5. Chelsea Wolfe - "Whispers in the Echo Chamber"

From the whispered breakdown to the riff-y ending that quickly redlines: she's in her NIN era.

6. meth. - "Shame"

Devastating, merciless noise-sludge. Title track from what's probably my AOTY at the moment.

7. Mizu - "Pump"

Ambient cello/electronics/field recordings.

8. Itasca - "Tears on Sky Mountain"

Weightless, gently psychedelic folk rock. The song from which I lifted the pretentious name for this mix. Again, I wasn't planning on sharing this when I made it.

9. Julia Holter - "Something in the Room She Moves"

Y'all probably know this one.

10. Kelly Moran - "Dancer Polynomials"

Hypnotic, cascading piano.

11. Ildganger - "Dans Om Tomhedens Mund"

Depressive, atmospheric, anxious yet majestic, raw-ish black metal.

12. Elegý - "Ship of Hopes"

Melodic, epic DSBM/post-BM.

13. Lila Ehjä - "Rust"

Slow-burning electro-darkwave track that takes on a shoegaze-like wall of guitar as it progresses.

14. Six Organs of Admittance - "Slip Away"

A spacious, haunting, acoustic-led psych-folk elegy that tends to make me cry.

Hopefully this doesn't result in Google deleting my blog. Enjoy!

I'm not fucking around

We're halfway dead

Bernhard Günter - Crossing the River (Night Music) (2001)

Minimal, sparse experimental sounds. The half-hour-plus title track is dedicated to then-recently deceased composer Iannis Xenakis, and is composed of dissonant strings, manipulated sources, and field recordings. "Haiku for Mu" is built on recordings of Günter's dog sleeping. A real party-starter, this one.

Track listing:

1. Crossing the River (Night Music)

2. Haiku for Mu

Gradually the blinding sunset drained from the glass, darkened, and it was as if snow were falling there, flakes shaping snow-eyes, hair: a face trembled like a white beautiful moth, smiled. She beckoned to him, shining and silver, and he knew he must go: unafraid, not hesitating, he paused only at the garden's edge where, as though he'd forgotten something, he stopped and looked back at the bloomless, descending blue, at the boy he had left behind.

Also listen to:

S·Core - Pretension (1988)

Müller • Sugimoto - I Am Happy If You Are Happy (2000)

ROHIT - Trick (2013)

Last month -- in the evening, on Thursday, April 11 -- my friend Danny died. He had made plans with his girlfriend to go out, and he was supposed to meet her outside his apartment, but when she got there, he wasn't outside. Eventually, after not hearing from him, she went into his apartment and found him dead on the couch. He had one shoe on.

No one knows for sure what happened. One can certainly make assumptions or inferences, but his cause of death is still unknown, and depending on what his family chooses to do with the autopsy results, it might stay that way. The only thing I feel safe saying is that, whatever it was, it was sudden, and it was unintentional. He was putting his shoes on, getting ready to go out with his girlfriend. He had texted her half an hour before she found him. Danny didn't want to die.

The night of his memorial, I had a dream that I was driving to drop off this bag full of old 4-track recordings of his that he left at my house sometime during early Covid (that part is real). Just before I pulled up to his house I realized that I'd driven to the wrong house: I was at the first house where I had lived with him, way back in 2007-2008. So I think, "Wait a second, Danny doesn't live here. Where the fuck does Danny live?" And I'm all confused. Then, the thought hits me as I wake up with a stone in my throat: "Oh, that's right. Danny doesn't live anywhere anymore."

Danny and I were in a few bands together over the years, and ROHIT was where we really bonded. I had started it as a solo project, but midway through recording the first demo, I knew I had to bring him into it. I just knew he would get it. So I played it for him, and he loved it. ROHIT was now a two-piece. We used to play shows for largely indifferent crowds, and we'd walk away like, "holy shit, dude, we just fucking crushed it, we're so fucking good." We truly didn't care if other people liked it -- we were doing exactly what we wanted to. And he boosted me like no other bandmate ever had or has -- I have never felt as seen or respected, creatively, as I did working with Danny in those early years.

After a while, we decided we weren't heavy enough and we needed a bassist so we invited Ana, who was fresh off the boat from Sweden, to join. She was into it, and we immediately became the best version of ourselves. That's the version of the band that recorded Trick, which I still consider our definitive recording. We had zeroed in on what we were best at, which was an extremely minimal synthesis of Ildjarn, Eyehategod, and Swans. It's not for everyone, and it's really not the point of this post. Check it out if you like.

Over the first couple of weeks after Danny died, it felt I had something dead attached to me, like a phantom limb or a tumor or some kind of cold, gnawing growth. And I knew that I had to let it go or it would spread to the rest of my body, but I couldn't bring myself to, because that thing was Danny. And letting it go meant letting Danny die, and I wanted to hold onto him as hard as I could. Keep him from that void into which so many beautiful souls have already disappeared. Pull him back through the veil, downwards with the rain, through an open window into his living room. Safe again, on his couch, sliding that second shoe on.

We kinda grew apart over the years. We texted a lot, and I always figured we'd grow back together again some day. Start another band. Watch more horror movies and It's Always Sunny. Drink beers on the porch and argue about Neurosis. Listen to Bill Fay and watch the sun turn red and disappear behind the trees. There were times when we'd go months without seeing each other, and more than once, when we finally did hang out, he told me that he'd been reading my blog -- this stupid fucking blog -- because that way he could see that, even though we weren't together, I was still me, I was still funny, I was ok.

Maybe writing this, I'm hoping that he can still read it somehow. I love you, Danny. I'll miss you forever.