The first five minutes of every movie should be very noisy so we can comfortably open our snacks without bothering anyone. But enough politics. The request lines have been open for two months now, and C. has made a very special request: a soundtrack for painting.
She’s doing remarkable things with ink and a knife these days, and you can see some of her paintings on this brand-new website I designed + built for her. Sometimes I get to watch her work, and she moves fast and loose, belonging entirely to the moment as she swirls her ink across a massive canvas. Meanwhile, I hunch over my notebook like a troll, frowning over the placement of a comma and wondering whether I have anything to say, any words to offer, and if I do, worrying they might be misunderstood.
Is it possible to write the way she paints? Can I become less stilted on the page, maybe really let loose and get wild without writing bad poetry? Perhaps these midnight letters will degrade into abstract bursts and garbled scenes—conditions that feel like the headspace of being alive in the 2020s.
People on TV talk about how they’re going to vote for so-and-so because they seem like they’re going to win. At the superstore, a kid consoles his little sister by saying, “If you think too hard, you get scared,” which pretty much sums up the human situation.
But back to tonight’s soundtrack for C’s painting. She’s a tough customer with top-shelf taste, capable of decimating an artist’s entire discography with a single word. (Burial: “itchy”; LCD Soundsystem: “clownish”; My Bloody Valentine: “carsick”.) But I love that C. loves Cliff Martinez's film scores, which are stellar, even though he was the drummer in the worst band on planet Earth. He's also a native of Columbus, Ohio, which is our current home. Sometimes the universe aligns.
What is "taste," and where does it come from, anyway? Is it hardwired or learned? When it comes to C's taste, I'm certain of two things: a) she prefers greyscale synthesizers that tilt toward the tragic but has no patience for treacle; and b) she loves the maximalist howl of Godspeed You! Black Emporer’s “Moya,” a song, she says, “that makes you want to get on your knees and believe in something.”
So here’s an attempt to move from point A to B, and I hope you’ll find it a reliable companion for the times you'd like to catch your breath, swirl some ideas around, and maybe even pray to whatever gods or demons are helping you get through this decade.
- Cliff Martinez & Gregory Tripi - Sister
(Only God Forgives | Milan, 2013 | More) - Cliff Martinez - I Drive
(Drive | Lakeshore Records, 2011 | More) - Popnoname - Fembria
(Pop Ambient | Kompakt, 2008 | More) - The Black Dog - Vertical Grip on Reality
(Music for Photographers | Dust Science, 2021 | More) - Warrington-Runcorn New Town Development Plan - Aerial Views by Helicopter
(Interim Report, March 1979 | 2021 | More) - Romance - Never Will/Hymn to the Sea
(Fade Into You | Ecstatic, 2023 | More) - Dedekind Cut - De-Civilization
(Tahoe | Kranky, 2018 | More) - Godspeed You! Black Emperor - Moya
(Slow Riot for New Zero Kanada | Kranky, 1999 | More)
Also includes reverberated snippets from T. Rex, Beach House, Lee Hazlewood, Johnny Mathis, Velvet Underground, Ricky Nelson, Bobby Vinton, and Chromatics. (There are three extra songs in this mix because I owe you a few after the single-minded focus of the previous installment.)
You can listen below or better yet, download a freshly pressed mp3. If you prefer a subpar experience without any transitions, static, reverb, or fun, here's a Spotify playlist.
Thank you for listening. The request lines are open.
Midnight Radio 008 | Download
