Love letters in the time of algorithms

This book review by Matt Pearce (I will link to his new Substack now that he’s no longer writing for the LAT) gets to the main reason I started writing this blog.

A cultural world that’s flatter. More homogenous. Passively consumed.

God, that’s so boring. They’re trying to massacre the very concept of taste. The days of a monoculture might be dead, floating randomly through the vast ocean with a great white sized bite taken out of it, but we can’t let them come back and swallow the rest of the culture too.

We can choose to do something different. We should choose to do something different.

Digital ash in a digital urn

Talking about the stuff you love is free. It’s authentic. That’s what matters. The worst thing that can happen is most people scroll by it. Nothing is lost.

This peer to peer sharing will always be valuable currency, it will never be effected by inflation, and just maybe it will cut through the algorithms and find a place to live inside open ears and loving hearts. Some of us have our mental radios listening for patterns in the sound of an endless static sea and are always waiting for the next big one to come along.

Love letters

Recommending art to friends (or strangers!) is a love letter. You are showing love to the artist by sharing their work, by passing along word that this thing they created is worthy of time and attention in an era where time is short and attention spans are shorter. Plus you are sending love to the person you’re sharing it with. You’re saying “I like this, I like you, maybe you’ll like this.” You are sending them a potential gift. Falling in love with art that touches you is a unique experience. It is a gift. You’ve shared love, you’ve given a gift.

I guarantee you there’s some band you love, and you can remember exactly who told you to check them out and exactly where you were when you first pressed play. And now that band has been in your life for years and brought you joy. That’s a magical moment.

I can think of a bunch of artists that were recommended to me and who made that recommendation. Not only did I find a new artist to love, I now feel closer to that person. Human connection is beautiful. I don’t just mean this as self-promotion. If you’re reading this, thank you truly. But go find the people and the blogs that speak to you, that you can trust, the ones who have shown you something before. The ones you know really care about this stuff. The more DIY the better. In general, the less they care about clicks, the better.

The Friend of a Friend Effect

My favorite kind of Spotify Wrapped or weekly grid is one that’s a mix of the stuff I already know I like, and some artists I’m not familiar with. There’s an entry point there, some shared interest. It’s like hanging with your friends, but they’re also chilling with their friends. Let’s call it the Friend of a Friend Effect. The door opens with familiarity, so it feels comfortable to step through into the party and explore. Someone hands you a beer and you listen in on the conversation. Sure, you can take my coat. Thanks. You’ll probably all end up in the kitchen, standing in a circle, sharing stories.

When I see a Wrapped/grid and don’t immediately recognize something, it’s like walking into a party and having a few dozen strangers turn and stare at you. You can almost hear the record scratch. What are you doing here, pal? Sure, maybe we could be friends, but now I’m feeling awkward and don’t know where to start and I begin to regret leaving my apartment. Shoulda just stayed home tonight. So many times, I’ve noticed something on one of those lists/grids and said ‘I remember one of my friends mentioned that record the other day. I didn’t check it out at the time, but I will right now.’ That’s the power in speaking out and sharing what you’re digging. They say people have to see an ad about seven times before it really sticks. I’d bet record recommendations are similar.

AI can do a lot of great things, but it can never be moved by art the way we can. Let’s keep talking to each other about the art we love. Let’s keep sharing our feelings.

Even during the Great Robot Uprising, as the Exxon-Verizon-Disney Terminator 8K Pro Max+ 6000 stomps me to death, I’ll still be saying “…did you hear that new song? Those guitars are incredible, right? Hey, ouch, that hurt…”

The machine demands blood

The same day Aaron Bushnell set himself on fire to protest the ongoing genocide in Israel, Kid Rock went on the Joe Rogan Nonsense Hour Podcast and very casually said they should kill 30-40,000 people. Really. He said that:

This is a person completely devoid of any shred of humanity.

People will continue to try to paint Aaron as unstable and mentally ill, or designate themselves as The Referee in the What Kind of Protest is Legitimate? Contest and throw a flag and say The Rules have been broken, but an extreme act of protest makes more sense to me than saying or doing nothing.

On one side, we have a man giving up his humanity, trying to trade himself for the public sentiment to turn towards a more just, peaceful world. The other side says “fuck it, just kill ‘em all.” That’s an answer for lazy, immoral people who don’t want to do any thinking.

Before making the ultimate sacrifice, Aaron deleted his Signal account, and left a well-reasoned will behind, writing in part “the machine demands blood. None of this is fair” and asking to be cremated and only have his ashes spread in a free Palestine, and only if the Palestinians were open to it. Sounds stable and clearheaded to me. May he rest in power.

Both of these events seem like they would be huge wake up calls in another time, but I fear we’re all too desensitized by the constant onslaught of the worst images and stories imaginable.

A veteran set himself on fire in protest. That should send a wake up call to people who maybe haven’t really thought too much about the current situation.

A washed up(?) rock star(?) casually called for tens of thousands of innocent people to be killed in the blink of an eye. Exposing himself as such an awful human should be enough for no one to ever bother speaking to him again.

The Sinclair will never be the same

Love and solidarity to the staff of The Sinclair, a great venue in Cambridge, for boycotting their employer hosting an IDF fundraiser last week with an artist who recently performed for Israeli troops.

A Sinclair spokesperson pointed to Harvard for putting on the event: “Harvard Chabad rented out The Sinclair for an event which they produced and promoted. The Sinclair’s involvement is only limited to leasing and staffing the room for the evening, as we routinely do for third-party rentals.”

I’m sure that’s true, but The Sinclair and Bowery not being able to see that allowing this event to take place has forever changed the way a lot of people look at the venue is sad. ‘Hey, we just leased and staffed it!’ still means they’re part of the event, still making money on the event, and on the hook for the negative sentiment and blowback. They could and should have just said no thanks. Instead of taking the feedback seriously and apologizing, helping to set a good example for their progressive community (Cambridge City Council unanimously passed a resolution calling for immediate ceasefire) they’ve been completely silent on it and started not allowing responses to their tweets. Is that something they’re just going to do forever? Just literally say ‘we refuse to listen to our community.’ Shame.

At least one future event there has been canceled by the artist, in addition to one this past weekend, and I’d expect there to be more. I now have more respect for their employees, but much less respect for those in charge. Just a stupid, near-sighted, unforced error. Will I still go to The Sinclair? Yes, because live music means a lot to me. But I’ll never feel good about being in that room, and the events I attend there will always have a bit of sadness attached to them.

Here’s one moment of zen in all the madness: an inmate making 13 cents an hour as a janitor worked 136.5 hours to make $17.74 and donated it all to help Gaza. A Gofundme for him, set up by his brother is now closed but raised over $100,000.

Okay Enough, Let’s Rock

Here are some new songs I’ve been jamming lately.

Signals Midwest - “Wait For Hours”

these minor moments of transcendence / logistics on an endless screendon’t you let 'em steal your presence or the sweetness of thе in-between

Signals Midwest is pure joy. That’s the main feeling I have listening to them, and it’s multiplied exponentially watching them play. I catch them every time they come to Boston and every year at FEST. I could watch them play every night. Truly one of the best bands out there.

Thank You, I’m Sorry - “When I Come East”

if I mail my heart through the midwest, would you read it?leave a lipstick kiss with your name signed underneath

You can’t spell consistency without TYIS. I’ve been talking about them since my second post on this blog (August 2020) and they’ve only gotten better since. Just last year they dropped their best work, Growing in Strange Places, where they explored a number of different sounds from grungy riot grrrl punk to atmospheric dream pop and made them all distinctly their own, completely living up to the title of their record and showing off their impressive, catchy writing chops. Now they’re about to drop a self-released EP, Repeating Threes, and this lead single shows them growing even further into the strangest place of all: our brains.

Blushing - “Tamagotchi”

so what do I do now? time for curtain call where do I retreat? when do I decide to fall? in the modern heart hides a skyso what do I do now to try and fly?

Gorgeous, hazy, atmospheric dream-pop from Texas, Blushing is back with the first single from their upcoming record Sugarcoat. Their music fills a room like smoke. I loved their 2022 release, Possessions, and caught their first ever Boston gig last March. They were all extremely sweet and put on a hell of a show.

Razor Braids - “It Goes Quiet”

when I’m with you it goes quiet / I think you must be made of lightI want to be your ocean / swim in me, stay the night

I originally discovered this band thanks to their excellent, moody cover of Weezer’s “Buddy Holly” and their original songs are also very good. I love this song.

Maybe art can’t save us, but humanity can, and the two are forever intertwined. You can’t have one without the other. Art can help us understand and navigate this crazy thing called the human experience.

Robots and politicians will probably get us all killed eventually, but they can never take our art or humanity.

Send me a song you’re listening to lately. Maybe it will be my new favorite.