Fun with music
Since I wrote about getting off Spotify a few weeks ago, I’ve been exploring other ways to listen to music. I thought I’d share a few discoveries and recommendations in case you, too, are looking for ideas and encouragement!
WFMT
I hoped that leaving behind Spotify would encourage me to get back into radio, but I had yet to find a classical station I actually liked. The ones I knew seemed to lean heavily on the background music effect I’m trying to avoid. You know, treating classical music as an undifferentiated lump that’s only good for calming you down in rush hour traffic or helping you focus at work. Plus, most classical stations focus on the music I’m the least interested in, which is roughly anything written in Europe between 1750-1900. Mozart is a bore; Beethoven is a drama queen; do NOT even mention Wagner to me. I fall off the wagon after Bach and don’t climb back on until Satie, at the very earliest.
There’s only one other person I’ve ever heard express this particular musical preference, and that is Dana Stevens, film critic for Slate and co-host of their Culture Gabfest, one of my ride-or-die podcasts. So when she recommended the radio show Exploring Music on WFMT, I knew I had to listen. It is, in fact, a really great show; host Bill McGlaughlin picks a theme for the week and slowly walks you through it over several episodes, teaching you how to listen to the music he’s playing as it goes. But I was also grateful for the introduction to WFMT, which is everything I want in a classical station. The sensibilities of the shows and hosts are distinct from one another, so it doesn’t blur together into some Baby Mozart mush. Even more importantly, the DJs expect that you actually like this music and want to pay attention to it. It’s easy to stream live or seek out particular shows, and although you can only listen back to two weeks of programming, that’s a constraint that invites you to try things you might not otherwise put on. I’ve been especially enjoying Baroque and Before with Candace Agree, particularly this episode featuring Sephardic music (which you can still stream for a few more days!).
Radiooooo
My sister recommended this very fun app that lets you listen to music from around the world, organized by country and decade, back to 1900. You can filter for “slow,” “fast,” and, my favorite, “weird.” In the free version, you can’t skip tracks—in that way, it’s like real radio—but you can travel through time and across borders to your heart’s content. There’s also a shuffle feature that does the traveling for you. It’s delightful and surprising, perfect for discovering music you never thought to look for. And despite my stance against treating everything like background music, it’s also great if you want to avoid lyrics in English or whatever language you personally find most distracting. Brazil in the 1960s obviously slaps, as does Mali in every decade, and although 1990s Madagascar appears to be represented by a single song, it’s a good song!
In rotation: What I’m listening to
Vikingur Ólafsson, Philip Glass: Piano Works. One of my most played albums of the past several years, I finally bought it for myself the day I got off Spotify. My book would not get written without it.
Steve Reich, Music for 18 Musicians. The GOAT.
Ólafur Arnalds, Living Room Songs. There are moments in life when you must accept that you’ve become a cliché, and for me it was when I bought two albums in a row by Icelandic new classical musicians. Next up: Hildur Guðnadóttir. Then I assume I’ll be legally obligated to move to the turf house in The Northman.
Tinariwen, Amassakoul and Aman Iman. My required dose of electric guitar, in the form of Saharan desert blues.
Alash, self titled. The beginning, and definitely not the end, of my throat singing library.