Hello, friends! This is Antônio, speaking to you directly from WebDCR (just kidding, but I miss the station so much I wish it was true).
As we all embark on to week 7, no matter where you are, I bet you have been craving a new playlist to study listening to. It is never easy to discover new music, especially outside of anglophone North American Spotify bubbles. But don’t you worry! This is what WebDCR is here for! 😉🇺🇳❗
Today, I am pleased to share a custom-made playlist a very dear friend of mine cultivated for us. If you are familiar with the music scene at Dartmouth, you probably know our queen Sylvie Benson. But, did you know Sylvie is off to Japan this term? 👸🇯🇵
I had the pleasure of sharing the Strauss studio with this amazing human being every weekend for Dance Ensemble rehearsals, and couldn’t be happier to accompany her amazing work as a musician herself. For all those reasons, I blindly trust Sylvie to provide me with the best soundtrack the ASCL department has to offer.
I had to google it to be sure of how it goes exactly, but there is this quote that, at least for me, dictates many of my daily social interactions.
“Tell me who your friends are listen to, and I will tell you who you are.“
This echoes in my mind whenever I find myself having to get to know people. It happens in family gatherings; on the first week of classes; during a group project, or — as I recently learnt to be another challenge: at a study abroad program.
I am currently in Madrid for the Spanish FSP. Supposedly, the whole point of this is wrapping up my minor and getting to know a different culture and different people. But, to my own despair, my boyfriend (who could have taken the program requirements with me early in the year 😫) is on the other side of the world (ok,,, not so far): Buenos Aires! While I am in an FSP, Luka is in the department’s LSA+ program. How cool? Really cool! But really far…
Long-distance relationships have their quirks and perks, but that’s a story for another post. Music, undoubtedly, is part of our efforts to remain connected. And, today, I use our eight months anniversary (how gay 😫😫) as an excuse to kick off a much-awaited series on the WebDCR blog:
✨✨ Study abroad as playlists! ✨✨
As part of our blog’s hopes of representing and engaging our radio community to its best, we will be kickstarting a miniseries of soundtracks for FSPs, LSAs, and LSA+s our DJs (and adjacent friends) have to share!
These are not necessarily local songs, as I am gradually learning being abroad as well. In Madrid, we do not listen to only Spanish music; and I don’t think anyone would do that! Thus, I hereby present you our first episode/playlist/soundtrack/musical experience off-Hanover limits: a Buenos Aires playlist made by my loving and caring significant other, Luka Faccini!
I grew up going to flea markets. In Texas, we get mangos, corn, and watermelons. Plentiful enough to bury your family. Cheap enough to make heaven feel mundane, and fresh enough to make me feel shame when I buy cups from the Hop.
But our apples can’t hold a candle to New England’s.
I met them first at Riverview Farm. I met them last at Riverview Farm. My freshman year, FYSEP carted us there, and the orchard enamored me. I could step over the tree’s roots and reach into their crowns. I plucked and gnawed into varieties before I learned their names. It was havoc under the branches. I tore through row after row — until I drew this one particular apple. It stopped me. It was massive and it was yellow and it was juicy and it was sweet and it was tender. I could not design an apple I could want more.
I thought nothing of them. Filled my bag with them, then ate one a day until they were gone. I’ll go again next year, I thought. You know what happened the next year.
Now, I am a senior, and the season of Ginger Golds has passed me by. I forgot to return to them. Their skin is too gentle for transport. They wrinkle and rot quickly. They grow here, but I am unsure where else.
I think that last bite, in 2019, was our farewell.
Here is a song by Will Woods. It is about loss. It’s not really a salve. It’s anticipation, fear, and screaming disappointment. Then moving on.
My world is different now, and I have an X-hour at 12.
Not long ago I decided to take part in the Dartmouth Radio. The station soon became my second home, and I made friends who would stand by me no matter what. WebDCR became my favourite hobby. It gave me an opportunity no talk non-stop about things that mattered to me. It gave me a fun fact for every Dartmouth introduction — “I’m Antônio, a ’25 from Brazil, I use he/they pronouns, and co-host PCSD on WebDCR every Tuesday.” It gave me a refuge from my dorm and my day-to-day boring activities and lectures. But, not long after getting involved with it, I realised it had also given me a community of incredible people with incredible stories to share.
As we reopen the virtual space of WDCR’s blog, I am excited to read, edit, comment, share, and uplift my radio peers’ voices. In this long-awaited rebirth, our priority is to make others heard; to create space for stories that, whether already told live or not, belong to our widely diverse and unique community of artists. Radio is all about communicating thoughts one deems worth sharing. It is about making yourself heard, and bringing others along the way.
In our humble, yet insanely crucial written sector, we hope to highlight experiences and topics that are deeply personal and intrinsic to who we are, and yet create connections over our collective identities.
Here, you will find verticals written by other radio hosts; reports from our News Department; important weekly updates on our schedules, and, overall, a lot of personal insights into who we are. This radio is ours, and taking up, reclaiming, and rebranding this space is a small, gentle step towards the fortification of our communities.
From WebDCR, with love and hopes of a great blogging future,
Ps. Radio isn’t dead
Ps2. If you are interested in writing for WDCR blog (about literally anything), hmu on antonio.25@dartmouth.edu!
Gone are the blissful summer days of quarantine in which all our playlists began with MC Hammer’s “U Can’t Touch This,” and, after a witty array of virus-themed throwbacks, concluded with “Don’t Stand So Close to Me,” by The Police.
Now, we listen to Phoebe Bridgers’ “Would You Rather,” and start to cry at her lyric: “quarantined in a bad dream,” and wonder how she predicted this all so well back in 2017 as we log on to our fifth Zoom call of the day.
Whether you’re breathing in that glorious, musty scent of your Dartmouth dorm room, waking up at 2PM in your childhood bedroom, or somewhere in between, here are some new songs that just make sense in quarantine that are not “Toxic” by Britney Spears – or worse, that celebrity rendition of “Imagine.”
“Beach Life-In-Death” by Car Seat Headrest
Word on the street is that the album Twin Fantasy was actually written about Will Toledo’s failed relationship with a furry, but hey, it still works for this listicle so I’ll go with it.
Why? For starters, this 13-minute epic is one of his best songs. The piece feels like a form of mixed media, with voice-overs, silences, and screams all pasted on top of each other. It also does an excellent job of taking the listener through the multiple cataclysmic mood shifts of the narrator, not unlike the ones I go through when stuck inside. Also, he really hits home on my current routine with,
What should I do? (Eat breakfast)
What should I do? (Eat lunch)
What should I do? (Eat dinner)
What should I do? (Go to bed)
Where can I go? (Go to the store)
Where can I go? (Apply for jobs)
Where can I go? (Go to a friend’s)
Where can I go? (Go to bed)
If anyone is doing something other than this right now please let me and Will Toledo know immediately.
“City Looks Pretty” by Courtney Barnett
Maybe Aussie Barnett is referring to Sydney when she sings, “The city looks pretty when you’ve been indoors for twenty three days, I’ve ignored all your phone calls,” but I’m choosing to apply the sentiment to Atlanta, Georgia (where I’ve been quarantining) as well.
Barnett, known for her deadpan wit and indie rock sounds, wonderfully captures the apathetic loop of doing nothing by chalking up her lengthy list of dilemmas with a hasty, “oh well.” The song draws to a close, falling into a meandering half-time before briefly speeding back up with an almost-urgent guitar riff, just to slow down once more. This mimics the anxiety felt from not being productive, but how, despite that, apathy triumphs still.
“It’s Afternoon, I’m Feeling Sick” by Sidney Gish
20W FNR superstar Sidney Gish, AKA my lyricist idol, perfectly captures the stifling boredom of being stuck in one (suburban) place for too long in this song. Gish playfully employs the use of random household objects like ping-pong balls and chopsticks to create her signature, spunky mashup of sounds. Listening to this song, which doubles as a stream of consciousness, I feel immediately transported to a Lady-Bird-esque bedroom alongside Gish as she records (as captured in her iMovie-made music video.)
I recommend reading through the whole song since it’s all applicable, but the most relatable lines to me are: “…Retire to her room, sit around and count the hours down till June, July and August end, and in this state I got like 4 friends left.”
“Bored in the USA” by Father John Misty
You can call him pretentious, snobby, elitist, and inaccessible, but Father John Misty is also pretty close to perfect when he sings, “How many people rise and say, ‘My brain’s so awfully glad to be here for yet another mindless day?’ ” With his aloof tone, detached lyrics, and artificial laugh track echoing in the background, Misty passively details the ennui of the quotidian. (He actually ghost-wrote that last sentence).
“Nobody” by Mitski
Obviously, I have to conclude with the Queen of Angst and Loneliness herself, Mitski Miyawaki. Because how can you not hear her opening lines of, “My god I’m so lonely so I open the window to hear sounds of people, to hear sounds of people,” and not relate, even if in actuality you’re perfectly fine?
Each song on Be The Cowboy seems to cover a new facet of isolation and loss, but I find this one especially compelling as it tackles heavy topics with musical lightness. Opening taps on the high-hat set a fast pace, piano chords push the song towards its catchy chorus, and the repetition of the title word begs to be sung back by listeners. Yet, when you listen to the lyrics, Mitski is far from the buoyant ease of these musical cues.
I admit, quarantine has not truly been filled with such angst and misery that these songs convey– my ABBA playlist has made many appearances and there’s always 100 gecs to listen to. But, there is something to be said about the above-average levels of loneliness many college kids feel at home or in isolation right now. Hopefully these songs can ease some of those feelings of isolation, or at least remind us how these artists are just as disconsolate as we are (but they make it look cool).
While these songs all thematically link to the quarantine experience, they are each fairly disparate from the others, both musically and emotionally. Yes, this is a testament to idiosyncratic musical styles, but also, each artists’ different approach to a shared theme of confinement reflects how there is no singular right way to feel in quarantine, and that’s okay. Isolation, sadness, and anxiety can manifest themselves in lots of different ways: raw guitar riffs, quippy lyricism, sparse instrumental interludes, or anything in between. In quarantine, I can experience all these musical motifs and corresponding mental states in just one day, one playlist. And now you can too.
Was going to write about Chromatica or Bon Iver, or maybe another album, but it all that seems a bit pointless right now. Instead I have some poems. I’ll share a little excerpt from each, as well as a link. A lot of these poems were tweeted by @KavehAkbar and @BenPurkert.
To breathe it in, this boulevard perfume
of beauty shops and roti shacks, to take
in all its funk, calypso, reggaeton,
and soul, to watch school kids and elders go
about their days, their living, is, if not
to fall in love, at least to wonder why
some want us dead. Again this week, they killed
another child who looked like me. A child
we’ll march about, who’ll grace our placards, say,
then be forgotten like a trampled pamphlet. What
I want, I’m not supposed to. Payback. Woe
and plenty trouble for the gunman’s clan.
I’m not suppose to. But I want a brick,
a window. One good match, to watch it bloom.
...I promise if you hear
Of me dead anywhere near
A cop, then that cop killed me. He took
Me from us and left my body, which is,
No matter what we've been taught,
Greater than the settlement
A city can pay a mother to stop crying,
And more beautiful than the new bullet
Fished from the folds of my brain.
Nikki Giovanni, “For Saundra“
so i thought again
and it occurred to me
maybe i shouldn't write
at all
but clean my gun
and check my kerosene supply
perhaps these are not poetic
times
at all
who was there who was there & now everyone
is watching your life from inside but I’m afraid to watch
them beat you watch torture throbbing dry & long
with ache & blue-black bruising so I don’t
& another black body is blown out smoking wick
Ta-Nehisi Coates, from Between the World and Me
But all our phrasing—race relations, racial chasm, racial justice, racial profiling, white privilege, even white supremacy—serves to obscure that racism is a visceral experience, that it dislodges brains, blocks airways, rips muscle, extracts organs, cracks bones, breaks teeth. You must never look away from this. You must always remember that the sociology, the history, the economics, the graphs, the charts, the regressions all land, with great violence, upon the body.
I really want to match the vibes here you so I’m going to play something that’s a little weird but stay with me.
Yes, I love this one. I know it’s 3AM and we’re in your East Wheelock eight-room triple, but I’m about to play something I really think you’re going to like. Just like, close your eyes and try and follow the lyrics ok? I know this one is a little out there but please just give it a chance.
Ricky can you turn the lava lamp on? Word. This song is going to knock your socks off I promise. *I pass you my Dab Pen.* Just try and relax. Just wait for the beat switch and you’re in for a treat. I promise you that you haven’t heard anything like this before.
Yes, Boloco is on its way. Can we just have 2 minutes of quiet? Frank is about to really lay it down. Really, he’s dealing with a lot of stuff that I, a white, straight man, can relate to and explain.
Ok, ok maybe that didn’t hit you like it hit me, but this next one is really going to do it. I don’t care if you’re about to throw up. I really need you to experience this with me.
*I’m lying on my back on the couch of your East Wheelock 8-room triple and waving my hands like I’m orchestrating Alt–J’s hit song “Breezeblocks.”* Does anyone have cash to tip the Boloco dude? No?
Wait wait this is my favorite part. Is the lava lamp on?
I don’t want to spend a lot of time meditating or philosophizing on music in the time of corona or any other lukewarm-at-best hot takes, but I did see a tweet that felt very true:
The hell zone is an anxious, semi-agitated state where you're just sorta "off" for the whole day and time flows like you're wading through chili and your hell zone will NEVER sync up with other peoples hell zones and that'll always make you feel weird and stressed out
So I thought I’d recommend two songs this week. One to listen to while you’re in the #Hell Zone and one to listen to when things are going “alright”!
Both songs this week are based around very synthy and strange soundscapes, but will start with music for when you’re wading through that chili. “Human Bog” is from Baths, an L.A. based solo project by William Wiesenfeld. It’s suitable for being sad but won’t catapult you anywhere unexpected.
I wish I knew anything about music so that I could more accurately describe it, but it’s mostly Wiesenfeld’s voice on top of a couple layers of mellow and drawn out synth. The hook, “I’m queer in a way that works for you / the lengths I go to get held on to” certainly lives up to the title of feeling like a human mud soup, but also, hey, big points for introspection and self-awareness! Also I learned through googling that bog is also British slang for the bathroom. How whimsical.
If you find yourself with some endorphins floating around— first of all, congratulations— secondly, check out “Youth” by Glass Animals. This one has a fun music video with a lot of my favorite music video things: being set in a diner, weird cameos by the band members, close up shots of someone pulling at their hair, and a dancing child.
The band describes itself as “psychedelic” which is a word that dried up and died long ago, but it’s a serviceable word for the all funky, synth woodwind things happening here. It’s fun, mostly upbeat, and also will likely not catapult you into either the Hell Zone or another strange mind space.
I had an extremely cursed drive from my brother’s house to my mom’s house today: it’s about an hour and a half on several different major highways, the George W. Bush Turnpike, the LBJ Freeway and also Tom Landry’s Highway, because apparently anyone can get a major interstate named after themselves around here. Anyways, Texas opened up for business today (yeehaw!) so the road was clogged with every Karen from here to the Brazos river aching to get her highlights redone. I was passed by a herd of F-150s going at least three hundred mph, hit a pothole that makes the Barringer Crater blush, and had the misfortune of witnessing an R.V. that had a custom spare-tire cover that said, and I wish I was kidding, “I need toilet paper for my bunghole.”
So that’s how things are in the Lonestar State, but at least I had some great driving music. I was blessed by my own discover weekly playlist a couple weeks ago, and found the upbeat, folksy quartet, Kuinka. Their most-played song, “Warsaw” is simply incredible, and it has a gorgeous, if not confused music video.
I turned to my friend Francie for some wisdom on this wild piece of media, and they said, wisely “He’s racist because… He was abducted by aliens?” Which yes, does seem to be the messaging here.
But they have a decently wide range that will make you want to kiss your darlin’ at the hoedown or bang on the washboard. They’re songs are also curse-word-free so you can listen with grandma or your zoom bible study.
Here are some of my favorites of their discography for easy listenin’
