Doom Clouds & Future Gardens

why you should put musk in your hair

Music I’ve been listening to:

June McDoom - June Mcdoom

Ryuichi Sakamoto - 12

Lucinda Chua - YIAN

Rosalía - RR

Shamir - Heterosexuality

Nia Archives - Sunrise Bang Ur Head Against Tha Wall

Lia Kohl - The Ceiling Reposes

Simon Farintosh - Aphex Twin For Guitar

Kali Uchis - Red Moon In Venus

Kiko el Crazy - Pila’e Teteo

Nabihah Iqbal - DREAMER

Bill Orcutt -Jump on it

Kadalpalam (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack) (1969)

I usually know it’s time to write another newsletter when I have too many music recommendations stored up and I need to release them. Of these recommendations, the album I’ve been listening to the most have been Ryuichi Sakamoto’s “12.” And the new (to me) musicians I’m most delighted by here are June McDoom (singer songwriter, hard to pin down but I want to say “Vashti Bunyan with a drum machine”) and Nabihah Iqbal.

I’ve been listening to Malayalam film songs for the past few days for no clear reason; I was just suddenly nostalgic for the music I found annoying listening to around the house growing up. I found a Spotify playlist called “Malayalam 60’s playlist” or something like that.

The song that was most striking to me on that playlist is called “Kasthoory Thailamittu” which I think translates to something like “I put musk in your hair.” I don’t really understand most of the lyrics, and google translate is of little help, so I will have to ask my mom to translate over the weekend.

I think it’s an older folk song of unknown origin that has likely been covered a lot - here’s a modern version from a few years ago - but the version I’ve been listening to is from the soundtrack of a 1969 film called Kadalpalam (which I have not seen in its entirety.) Here is the scene from that movie with the song; nothing in the scene matches up with the lyrics to the song but it’s fun to watch nonetheless. (I think the audio is also quite literally out of sync with the video):

Judging from the performance in this video and the family’s festive handclaps, I’m guessing it’s a celebratory folk song about an engagement, but what I find most striking in the song is the bridge where she’s singing so fast, rattling from consonant to consonant. Not just because it sounds like something more contemporary but because this section is a bit darker than the rest of the song. I don’t always like it when these types of tonal shifts happen in music but in the best moments it sort of makes you wonder if you’ve wandered into an alternate, “true” version of the song where the patina of optimism has peeled off revealing the rusted hull underneath.

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If I could sum up my mood in the past few weeks it would be “bad.” I think maybe that will change, but as always with gloom it’s harder to see the future when the fog is clouding up your vision. I’ve had covid twice (I think) since my last newsletter. The first time was in February and the second was in early May. (I did not test positive the second time despite having all the symptoms, but I’m calling it Covid anyway because if it walks like a duck. Also in retrospect I may have tested too early) The first time I recovered completely after 2 weeks; but I’m now more than 2 weeks out from my second bout and have lingering fatigue. This would normally be the time of year when I plan out my summer and decide if I want to curate some events, but I haven’t had much energy to do that or much else that brings me joy. I’ve mainly been working and resting.

When I got covid in February I bought a plant shelf. I wanted to do something for myself that reminded me of life and would give me optimism for the future when I physically and emotionally felt bleak and apocalyptic. The second time I got covid, I bought a tiny tree for the shelf. It’s only been a few weeks but so far I am keeping it alive despite not realizing at first that it needs way more water than any of my other plants? The soil dries out in days. My other plants are pothos plants and a monstera that don’t need to be watered more than maybe once a week. The shelf has ten slots, but three of these slots are housing an overflow of books. It is a nice tableaux, a reminder of life.

I have also been feeling more generally “bad” about “the world,” and it takes a lot for me to feel that way since I work in the news business (tips old-timey press hat) and as a result I read bleak news all the time. It can feel nice to think that by making forceful arguments for good policy that you are slowly unfurling a map to a better world. But lately I’ve witnessed too many reminders that some people are just, like, nasty, by constitution, and I don’t always have the energy for ongoing bar fights with people making bad faith arguments. My therapist says my lack of mental capacity for this is really just a symptom of my physical exhaustion and, she’s probably right, but that doesn’t make it any better!

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What are your favorite gardens? What do you like about them? I recently visited the New York Botanical Garden. I studied the orchids, though I was too late for the bloom of the famous “corpse flower,” which had long since released its stinky scent. (But I love the video on the NYBG website, it looks like some real Jurassic Park shit.) My favorite part of visiting the garden was a little urban farm. Something about its size, sense of abundance, its rigid lines and clean grids, its little signs written for children made it feel utopian, futuristic in a good way. It felt like a reminder of a future that has life in it when the present feels acidic and joyless.

I’ve been working on stuff. I have been writing for Vice since January, and everything is going great there. Of the pieces I’ve written, I think I’m most proud of this article on Mayor Karen Bass’ homeless sweeps, which another media outlet had incorrectly implied were not utilizing police.

But I got arguably more attention for this essay I wrote about the killing of Jordan Neely. I tried to be as direct as possible about what I’ve learned covering homelessness.

Here is an excerpt:

NYC, like many cities across the country, has turned itself inside out to make homelessness prolonged and painful in an effort not to protect the lives of people who are unhoused but to placate those who feel unsafe looking at people who are unhoused. The U.S.’s legal system, its housing system, its benches and public places, its retail stores, sidewalks, public transit systems, even its shelter systems are organized around the idea that homelessness should be painful, invisible, and easily ignorable.

I never imagined it would be controversial to suggest it is wrong to kill people for being homeless. Unfortunately, I got more hate mail for this article than anything I’ve ever written. (Believe it or not, I usually don’t receive any hate mail!) I never shared the article on any of my social media when it published because 1. the unhinged comments I was already getting on email and twitter, which, as I mentioned earlier, I was not in the best place to deal with, as I was already drained from being sick again. 2. I don’t like being part of “the discourse” and personally think it’s more rewarding to weigh in on a topic when other people are *not* actively volleying back and forth on it. It’s not fun to be part of the take machine, however earnestly you believe in your stance. It can feel like being part of a monetized content cyclone - and the reality is that someone’s life, or death, is being discussed can feel minimized.

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That’s it for me today. Send me some pictures of your favorite gardens and flowers if you can - and I’ll talk to you soon, hopefully when I have energy to plan some Summer fun.

surfs up,

Roshan