1940 (AmpLive Remix)
The Submarines
Honeysuckle Remixes

The year is one thousand nine hundred and forty

and something isn’t right

Gravity Rides Everything
Modest Mouse
The Moon & Antarctica [Reissue]

What’s that writing on your shelf / In the bathrooms and the bad motel / No one really cared for it at all

gargoyles gargling oil/ king of the empire/ top of the rock

After a month exposed to daily music-intensive partying I have determined that this mix is the quintessential press-play-and-lose-everything-on-your-body omnibus of intimate college experiences.

Bare Feast

I haven’t posted in a while because of Sasquatch! 2014, and the following life-changing adventures that followed. Chance, Tyler, Die Antwoord, MIA, The National, Kid Cudi, Cage the Elephant, Tycho, and Phantogram were all terrific but at the end of the day when we retired to the Geodesic dome parties among the miles of tents, Bare Feast stuck with me as an insidious and nourishing song to guide the MDMA-comedown dancing into unconsciousness.

From Bath’s oldest album, Cerulean in 2010. 

Land Locked Blues
Bright Eyes
I'm Wide Awake It's Morning

We made love on the living room floor
With the noise in the background of a televised war
And in the deafening pleasure I thought I heard someone say
"If we walk away, they’ll walk away"

But greed is a bottomless pit
And our freedom’s a joke 
We’re just taking a piss
And the whole world must watch the sad comic display
If you’re still free start running away
Cause we’re coming for you!

I’ve grown tired of holding this pose
I feel more like a stranger each time I come home
So I’m making a deal with the devils of fame
Saying “let me walk away, please”
You’ll be free child once you have died
From the shackles of language and measurable time
And then we can trade places, play musical graves
Till then walk away, walk away

So I’m up at dawn
Putting on my shoes
I just want to make a clean escape
I’m leaving but I don’t know where to
I know I’m leaving but I don’t know where to

Who Will Survive In America
Kanye West
My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy (Deluxe Edition)

Originally a poem by Gil Scott Heron, the American soul and jazz poet, Who Will Survive in America is a shortened version of Heron’s poem, and a fitting end to one of the best hip hop albums.

Us living as we do upside-down
And the new word to have is revolution
People don’t even want to hear the preacher spill or spiel
Because God’s whole card has been thoroughly piqued
And America is now blood and tears instead of milk and honey
The youngsters who were programmed
To continue fucking up woke up one night
Digging Paul Revere and Nat Turner as the good guys
America stripped for bed and we had not all yet closed our eyes
The signs of truth were tattooed across our often entered vagina
We learned to our amazement, the untold tale of scandal
Two long centuries buried in the musty vault
Hosed down daily with a gagging perfume
America was a bastard
The illegitimate daughter of the mother country
Whose legs were then spread around the world
And a rapist known as freedom, free-DOOM
Democracy, liberty, and justice were revolutionary code names
That preceded, the bubblin’ bubblin’ bubblin’ bubblin’ bubblin’
In the mother country’s crotch
What does Webster say about soul?
"All I want is a good home and a wife
And a children, and some food to feed them every night”
After all is said and done, build a new route to China if they’ll have you

Walk on the Wild Side
Lou Reed
The Best of Lou Reed