Today, I am so happy to bring you a conversation I had, back in October, with culture writer
. When I read Niko’s reflections on music, I get a feeling not dissimilar to the feeling I get when I hear a song I have to Shazam. It’s something like urgent recognition, like the song — or the essay — is a thing that only some people will really get, and I get it. Of course this is partially because Niko writes about bands that I happen to love, but it’s also because of how skillfully she writes about them, and the connections she makes. Writing about music and memory could easily become trite, but Niko’s essays are so specific —not just because she’s sharing details about her life, but because she finds ways to put language to the affective resonance of music that so often feels indescribable. But Niko describes it, beautifully.By “affective resonance” I kind of mean “feeling”, but it’s something a little deeper than that. Neuroscientist Antonio Damasio describes affect as “bodily background feeling,” and what happens “between emotions.” Cultural studies scholar Greg Siegworth elaborates, “more than consciousness and more than emotion, it is affect that gives us our ‘sense of being’ or, better, our ‘sense of being alive.’” When I first learned about affect theory, I connected it to music right away because my response to it has always been so visceral, so fleshy. I think many of us have the experience of music giving us a sense of being alive like that in our bodies, and Niko’s writing offers us glimpses of it, in sturdy, poignant prose.
You can imagine my delight when, after commenting on a post of hers (over at
, which you should go subscribe to) we decided to have a conversation together. The initial plan was to talk about autumn music and seasonal connections to music more generally, but since it was our first time talking off the internet, we had more nerding out to do first. The conversation ahead is about our early entry points into music, alternative and punk scenes, music and work, music and food, music and all the feelings. You can find the transcript here.I’m also sharing my autumn affect playlist which is meant to be played linearly, with the early songs fitting best for September, then moving on through October and November (so start towards the end, and then save it for next September!). I make new seasonal playlists every year, but this one is a collection of some of my favorite, most autumny-vibe songs I’ve collected over the years. As we mention in the video, seasons mean different things to different people, across the globe — I’m speaking from a Midwest perspective where “fall” means leaves changing and colder weather. Of course, the ecological crisis is changing what seasons mean for everyone, but seasons are affective too; in a recent interview, poet Jacqueline Suskhin said this, which felt so relevant: “we might lose the seasons as we know them in our lifetime…But we won't lose our connection to that rhythmic cycle….this seasonal rhythm that I think will live inside of our bodies even as the seasons change.” No wonder seasons and music feel so connected; I think we understand both the earth and the songs we love through our bones.
Thank you for sharing Raechel! Writing about music feels like one of the toughest things... what it means is so deep in our bodies - where to even start pulling this out? Excited to listen to you two chat about it