MAY MIX by Mike Doughty

Weird Hope and Loving Truculence

I started out trying to put together a mix that expressed, and engendered, hope, in peculiar forms. When I looked at the list, I realized I’d put all these boasting, large-egoed vociferations on there. There’s a strange quality to all the boasting songs, though: good-heartedness, kind-spiritedness, happiness.

1. Arthur Russell, “This Is How We Walk on the Moon”

Arthur was a gay dude from Iowa, a cello player, with a face pocked with acne scars; he moved to New York in the old gritty days, and made oddball indie disco and country records. This song is spare, haunting, and, on some weird intangible level, funky. “Every step is moving me up,” is the refrain.

2. ESG, “Erase You”

Three sisters from the Bronx put this band together in the early ’80s, ran around the margins between the punk/no-wave and rap music universes–they opened for Johnny Rotten’s Public Image, Limited, at the Ritz–the tour where Lydon played behind a screen, and the audience booed, then rioted. The song’s attitude is — as the children used to say, fierce — a stellar fuck-off track. “Last night, I went out with Tony / He had on so much gold / But it was phony.”

3. Cheap Trick, “Reach Out”

From the soundtrack of the cheesy animated sci-fi movie Heavy Metal, this is such a full-guns karate-training-montage song from an ’80s tune it’s ridiculous. It’s like the song the red-leather-clad Dirk Diggler sings in Boogie Nights, but real. (and P.S., the song is real-life amazing, not ha-ha freaky). “Don’t be afraid to drive the nail in the wood,” goes an oddly surreal go-get-’em! lyric, “and drink the water that t-t-tastes so good.” I met Rick Nielsen when I was fourteen–I was waiting outside the theater before the show–and requested this, and he looked at me weird.

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MID-APRIL MIX by Melissa Broder

MUSIC TO AVOID A POETRY READING

There was to be a poetry reading, a gathering of the poets, but as night crept on I couldn’t get my hair together I couldn’t get my hair.

1. Soul of Fire / Witch

I’ve seen the serpent, I’ve seen the spirit, and they both said: Never read longer than 12 minutes.

 2. Sookie Now / Big K.R.I.T.

To be a romantic poet, say sookie sookie now 30x fast into a crockpot filled with diamonds.

3. Playaz Club / Rappin’ 4-Tay

Poetry is the oven mitt on a pimp hand.

4. Swishas and Erb / UGK

 Swishas is a trochee. Cadillac is a dactyl. Bun B is a spondee.

5. Go To Hell / Raphael Saadiq

To complete this poem you will need to conduct a small exploration of death. Choose a death that reflects your own special interests and/or expertise.

6. Scared of Monsters / Curren$y

I don’t believe in monsters, but I believe in silence.

7. Love Like a Fountain / Ian Brown

You weren’t reading fast enough so I crashed a rave in the clock across the street. When you finally finished, you asked me where I got that glow.

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MID-MARCH MIX by Miles Klee

Sober to Hungover

A St. Patrick’s birthday has instilled two strong feelings in me: gratitude for having lived through my 21st, and a consuming hatred of Celtic punk. Can’t I drink and revel without being assaulted by some guttural, redlining, Bostonian ode to the same? Not all of us get in bar brawls after our third pint of Guinness (which I also despise, come to think of it). Let’s hijack this jukebox and figure out what a boozy night really sounds like—from sober to hungover.

1. “Drive It All Over Me,” My Bloody Valentine (You Made Me Realise EP)

Confused, greasy, burnt out from the day’s caffeine abuse and other indignities, you tumble out of your office in need of a Happy Hour. Something in your addled mind is convinced that fun is just around the corner, if only you could find a two-for-one deal. (Speaking of which, since MBV is from Dublin, you just fulfilled your cultural obligations for the night.)

2. “Sunny Day,” Film School (Fission)

The endorphin hit from your first sip. The bar brightens; your shoulders unbunch themselves. Hey, the friends you were meeting here just walked in. You undo a button at your collar—maybe even two, as a joke, but then you leave it that way, what the hell.

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MARCH MIX by Adam Wilson

Well, Well, Well

It took me almost seven years to conceive of,  write, edit,  and publish my debut novel, Flatscreen. I listened to a lot of music over that period. Some of it was inspirational, some made me horny, and some helped placate the pain of being alive. Or whatever. Some is just the shit I’ve downloaded recently. Here are some favorite jamz.

1. Blaze Foley – Clay Pigeons

My friend Mark made me a mix CD entitled Minor for my 23rd birthday in March of 2005. I was living in Austin, Texas, at the time, and miserable. We listened to the mix while passing a bottle of bourbon in the cab of Mark’s truck. We got sentimental and he gave me an invitation to his wedding, fresh from the printer. The wedding was called off shortly after. The invitations were never sent. I still have mine in a shoebox in my closet. I have the CD too, but I no longer have a CD player. This was the first song on the mix. It reminds me of Denis Johnson’s novel, Angels. “Gonna find that lady with two or three kids and sit down by her side.” In 1989 Blaze Foley was  gunned down in the streets by a man named January.

2. The Replacements – Little Mascara

For years people told me to listen to The Replacements, so I defiantly, and stupidly, ignored them. I think I thought they were a Ramones rip-off and that calling their album Let It Be was cheeky and unsophisticated. I thought I knew a lot about music, but I didn’t know much about anything. When I finally gave Let It Be a serious listen I realized it was the best rock album ever. That led me to Tim, which is equally good, if not better. I can’t tell if  Westerberg is being bitingly sarcastic or tenderly empathetic (or both) when he sings, “All you ever wanted was someone to take care of ya/ All you’re ever losin’ is a little mascara.” I think that’s what I like about it.

3. Beyonce – 1+1

Beyonce just lays it on the line in the one. Such a raw and emotional vocal that we don’t get on her big dance numbers. And finally she gets an arrangement that doesn’t try to do to much and let’s her voice carry the song. When she sings, “Make love to me” here, every guy in the world wishes he were Jay-Z.

4. Tom Waits – Downtown Train

Sometimes on Friday nights after dinner my parents would play music in the living room from my dad’s record collection and dance. The record collection seemed to come from an earlier, bohemian, pre-suburban life. For years I thought that Tom Waits was an old black man, a less famous Louis Armstrong. I was shocked when I found out he was white–probably around age fifteen. I love the line about the Brooklyn girls scattering like crows, “they have nothing that will ever capture your heart.” I always think of this line when I’m taking the F train out of the city with the other drunk Brooklynites trying to make it home before sunrise.
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FEBRUARY MIX by Emma Straub

Songs That I Play Really Loud So No One Else Can Hear Me Cry

Is there anything better than a sad love song? I’ve checked–there isn’t. Here is a brief list of some of my all-time favorites to get you through Valentine’s Day, whether or not you’ve got a date. Each and every one of these songs is vetted (by me) as a song that you can listen to on repeat, either pining for a lost love, being sad about being lonely, or still being mad at that guy who cheated on you in high school. Extra points go to anyone who burns this onto a CD and listens to it in their car and/or lives in a dorm room and/or with their parents, places were self-indulgent sadness is best appreciated. This mix includes songs that I know I’m supposed to be embarrassed to love, but hey, this is an irony-and-coolness-free zone.

1. Al Green — Tired of Being Alone
So plainly stated, so perfectly sung.

 

2. Otis Redding — Try A Little Tenderness
My love for this song began with Duckie lip-syncing in Pretty in Pink, which still makes my heart skip a beat.


3. The Beach Boys — God Only Knows
I usually like to keep God out of my personal life, but in this case, I make an exception.

 

4. Belle and Sebastian — My Wandering Days Are Over
For when you’re ready to settle down.

 

5. Big Star — Thirteen
If this song doesn’t give you middle school flashbacks, you have no soul.
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JANUARY MIX by Leigh Stein

The Littlest Panda Soundtrack

 

My first novel, The Fallback Plan, has a panda subplot. Esther, the protagonist, imagines writing a screenplay adaptation of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe starring pandas in the roles of the Pevensie children. This playlist is meant to be listened to during soft snowfall.

 

1. “Big Stuff,” Billie Holiday
During the Blitz, the Pevensie pandas are sent to live with their uncle in the English countryside. Opening credits: closeup on the littlest panda’s face, seen through the car’s backseat window.

 

2. “Surrey with the Fringe on Top,” Marlene Dietrich
The pandas play hide and seek. Their uncle is mysteriously absent. Nothing makes sense.

 

3. “Tunglið,” Ólafur Arnalds
The littlest panda finds a secret portal to Narnia in an armoire.

 

4. “Young Folks,” Peter Bjorn and John
While the littlest panda is finding a secret portal, her brother is making a veggie burger and playing Guitar Hero.

 

5. “Sea of Love,” Cat Power
The littlest panda meets a faun.

 

6. “Explain It to Me,” Liz Phair
The faun tells her that they have to save Hanukkah, and explains the curse of the evil White Witch (“Aryan white, if you know what I mean”).
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DECEMBER MIX! Scott McClanahan, Chris Oxley, and the Holler Presents “Holler-Day Sampler”


I never listened to holiday music of any kind when I was a kid. Usually, it was just country music playing throughout the holidays.

So when EL asked me to compile the December play list, I decided to get together with my Holler Presents partner Chris Oxley and listen to some songs from those Decembers of long ago. Our friend Marcus stopped by and we talked about the tracks as they played. We took notes of what we said.

Here goes:

 

1. Patti Page– “Tennessee Waltz”

CHRIS: When I think of this song, I think about how we listened to it twelve times in a row on the way to Ann Arbor, Michigan for a reading with Donald Ray Pollack.
SCOTT: That trip makes me think about how you pretended you were a French dude named “Jean Francois” and people were really confused the next day when you finally dropped the accent.
MARCUS: The spirit of Christmas makes my pecker hard.
CHRIS: Stop. You can’t say stupid shit like that.
SCOTT: I used to dance by myself when I was a kid to this song. My mom had all of these old albums and I loved this version. I was a lonely kid.

 

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NANOWRIMO Mix by Electric Literature

It’s National Novel Writing Month and all across the country (ok, in maybe in studio apartments mostly in major cities) novelists are cranking away at the keys. But writing is difficult, often lonesome, work, and writing a novel is an endeavor that brings even the most experienced writers to the edge of surrender or worse.

Consider how Adam Haslett describes the experience of writing his first novel: “Well there was depression, anxiety, horrible stomach problems, horrible back problems, loneliness, horniness, dread, fear, and recurring radical doubt as to the worth of my endeavors, but other than that it was all quite effortless.” And that was after writing a short story collection that heaped up accolades like mashed potatoes on Thanksgiving (National Book Award and Pulitzer finalist, Time best book of the year, et al.).

To drive you on, to inspire you, to sustain you, to help you break through writer’s block, and to simply keep you clattering away at the keys, the staff of Electric Literature and The Outlet offer you a literary Eye of the Tiger: a NaNoWriMo mixtape. Listen to it all the way through, or find a track or two you like and pursue that creative thread.

 

“Gerdur” by Sigur Rós - After you’ve been cooped up all day writing in your attic bedroom that has no windows, this song tricks you into thinking you’re the best kind of genius. — Halimah Marcus

“We Insist” by Zoë Keating - I like to write to music that is either absent of words or is completely full of them.  I’d describe this brilliant modern cellist as ‘Alternative classical.’  She creates deep, layered, non-verbal spaces and I’m guilty of listening to her albums over and over again while writing. — David Ohlsen

“In the Fall” by Future Islands - It works well on repeat, and it makes you feel like you’re 16 and Things Are Important. — K. Reed Petty

“Residential Love Song” by KC Accidental - Before there was Broken Social Scene, there was KC Accidental. This song came off of 2000′s “Anthems for the Could’ve Bin Pills,” which is filled with gems just like this one– quiet and non-distracting, but still completely lovely and inspiring. — Julia Jackson

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OCTOBER MIX by Rick Moody

Fifteen Songs

Fifteen songs, just fifteen that I’m playing now, that are in heavy rotation today? Too easy. So I have chosen fifteen songs that I actually liked when I was fifteen. This is an embarrassing proposition for the following reason: I turned fifteen in 1976, and where I was going to high school, in New Hampshire, punk had not yet happened, and so there was an awful lot of wretched music out there, and I liked some of the wretchedest, the most conspicuously awful. I would offer the observation that I liked this music because it was difficult, it was somewhat ambitious, and because it didn’t sound like everything else. And this is often what I like about music now too. I like things that don’t sound like everything else. So there’s that.

I may have liked some really awful shit when young, but I didn’t like Frampton Comes Alive. And I always kind of hated Billy Joel, Turnstiles above all other albums. And the Eagles have always repelled me. And all the girls in my high school always seemed to love Dan Fogelberg, whom, at the time, I would willingly have hanged in effigy. But it’s true, I did like some appalling music. Some of which I still love, if only because nothing provides the Proustian rush like a song you liked as a fifteen-year-old:


1. “Inca Roads,” Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention (One Size Fits All)

An incredibly strange and complex song with lots of different time signatures, and then a soaring, aching guitar solo in the middle. I could have chosen many, many, many songs by Frank Zappa for this list. I could have made a whole list of Frank Zappa songs, but this is possibly my favorite ever.

 

2. “Free Hand,” Gentle Giant (Free Hand)

Jonathan Coe, who wrote the tremendous novel What a Carve Up! also loves and knows way too much about this band. I sort of assume, most days, that no one knows or cares about them at all except me, but Jonathan Coe recently challenged me to name my favorite pre-John Weathers drummer in Gentle Giant, and if this was designed to make me feel uninformed, well, it succeeded.
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SEPTEMBER MIX by Jason Diamond

I despise the heat, so I hate summer.  I look forward to its demise, and I welcome the Fall Equinox with wide-open arms.  September 23rd is the official first day of autumn, a day I began looking forward to sometime around the end of June, when the Summer Solstice hit.   There is just something perfect about ushering in cooler temperatures that has always left me invigorated.  It’s during this time of year that I can lace up a pair of duck boots to go hiking through the woods outside of the city, or sit on a park bench drinking a cup of tea, thinking to myself, “Gee, this sure is nice – drinking a hot beverage several degrees lower than the air outside.”  To sum it up: I like winter, spring is usually fantastic, summer sucks, but autumn is my time to shine.

One of my normal Beginning of Autumn routines is looking up John T. McCutcheon’s 1907 Chicago Tribune cartoon, “Injun Summer.”  It has been a tradition of mine since around the 3rd grade, back when the schoolteachers in Chicago didn’t care that the cartoon was a tad bit insensitive, an instead saw it as part of our heritage.  For decades, it showed up yearly on the front of the newspaper, until it disappeared, according to Roger Ebert, “a victim of political correctness.”  I won’t disagree with that assessment, but I also wont deny that the cartoon is a strong remnant from my childhood, and I will pour myself a glass of hot cider and read it on September 23rd.   I hope there will be falling leaves, but I’ll read it if I’m still sweating too.

This collection of songs is a batch of autumnal hymns that sound fine regardless of the season (even summer), but are most perfect for walking around and looking at the changing colors of the foliage.

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