Amoeba Music

Swanky Japanese vaporwave that is a must hear! Fun fact, this is the same woman who composed the Drum n' bass heavy soundtrack for N64's 'Bomberman Heroes.'

Neo- boogie greatness complete with INFECTIOUS grooves! If you aren't dancing to this while you listen there's something wrong with you.

So many people are talking about this show! At the end of the second season, my co-watcher looked over and said “I think the people who made this show want you to be uncomfortable.” It hadn’t struck me because I was so busy being uncomfortable, but of course he’s right. With The Bear, I tolerated discomfort and irritation, it became in many ways, a test of endurance. The screaming, the bullying, the chaos all somehow forced me to focus more to just keep track of what the hell was going on. (A co-worker said he watched with the subtitles on, which I thought was genius). The soundtrack was a character in many episodes of Season 2. Sometimes, I’d wait for the music to fade so I could concentrate on the dialogue, and it just didn’t. Little bit of a Goodfellas vibe for me in that way. Like most aspects of the show, I was conflicted about whether I liked it or not. But this show knows the story it’s telling and doesn’t apologize for it. I admire that.

Creator Christopher Storer and Music Supervisor Josh Senior used a song by R.E.M., one of my major musical touchstones-guaranteed to evoke my angst ridden, adolescent self every time. I can recognize Michael Stipe’s voice within about 5 seconds. The track The Bear uses is from Monster, called "Strange Currencie." I couldn’t get it out of my head for days, so I decided to go back and listen to the entire album. When that album came out, I had taken a hard turn into Hip Hop and to be honest, hadn’t connected to Green in the same way as R.E.M.’s first 4 (and a half counting Chronic Town) releases, and hadn’t listened to their subsequent releases. With Monster, seeing them leaning into Rock hard with static, reverb, and growling is bold and I respect it: it’s a solid record. After the buried vocals of their earlier stuff, it is fun to listen to Michael Stipe get more direct, saucy, and to really own his own vibe. “What’s the Frequency Kenneth” is an earworm, and “Strange Currencies” is indeed haunting. “I Took Your Name” simmers with conflict. I like the way it kind of echoes on itself. Stipe still buries his vocals sometimes (“Let Me In”) but it seems more intentional. It’s been a strange combination of nostalgia and grounding listening to Monster. When I was 14, their music was my avatar- my yearning personified. At that time, under it all, for me, their music was a question. I felt like I had a witness for a kind of free-floating melancholy that made me feel like I could fit in somewhere. Still can sing every word to those albums 35 years later.

I have a relationship with The National. We’ve been together a long time, shared so much. Like R.E.M. when I was younger, their music forms the backbone of how I have comforted myself through turmoil, contemplation, and the aspiration to understand myself in the last decade or so. So many of their songs cradle moments in time, particular eras of my life. If I was making a time capsule, or some type of receptacle that people from the future could reference to get a sense of who I was, The National would be in there. But they don’t really surprise me anymore. They are really good at what they do, but I don’t get the feeling that they are pushing themselves. They’ve found a sweet spot that can feel a little formulaic at times, kind of predictable. That being said, I got their latest release, The First Two Pages of Frankenstein, when it came out and listened to it on rotation for at least a month. “Once Upon a Poolside” is beautiful. The swelling voices under the bridge gets me every time. “This Isn’t Helping” has a line that feels so personal and also so meta about relationships. The talker and the one who stews. Matt Berringer is so good at mining neurosis. In the song, he sings, “cause I only have two things to say to you, but you say two things about everything babe.” Shit. There I am. Definitely has made me try to measure my words more.

“Your Mind is Not Your Friend Again” is a perfect example of a song that I’ve assigned my own meaning to. The phrase is a perfect reminder to question my premises. We create these stories that we superimpose on our experiences about ourselves and other people, assigning intentions and motivations that are based on our fears and insecurities. And when we do that, we run the risk of making them come true. If I am afraid to need people, then I never depend on them so that I can “protect” myself from some type of shapeless pain that might or might not come. I tell myself that I have to take care of myself alone because that’s what I do, not because someone who loves me wouldn’t be there for me if I asked. And so, I make it true. I get in my own way. As I listened to the song over and over again, it was an affirmation of what I’ve been trying to do in the last few years. Be vulnerable, ask people questions instead of deciding their answers by myself. Remember that my ego is not my actual self. We all have an essence that floats around the internal constructs we’ve built. When I can connect to that essence, that’s when I like to believe that I am the most who I am.

New York's protean creative teams up with ubiquitous and genre-hopping producer, Jack Splash for 24 minutes and 50 seconds of blistering lyrical commentary of existence and art over punch-tough drums, cocky percussion, and hypnotic rhythms. Can't recommend this one enough.

Three separate LPs of beats from the mysterious, and highly sought-after, rapper-producer out of Philly showcase his dusty, sample-laden production style, making this instrumental series a must-own.

Produced by the magician behind SAULT's sound, Inflo, Little Simz flexes her strong verbal muscles while getting some things off her chest. I'm a huge fan of Simz' voice and cadence, and becoming part of the Forever Living Originals family and sound is a perfect fit. I hope there is more to come from this relationship.

I've been listening to this cat since 2020's lockdown. I was excited to find an artist that was delivering something that felt refreshing to me. A slightly higher timbre skates over jazz, 70s/80s soul keys, and ballroom string loops.Hard, rattling delivery with a bourbon in hand.