18 weeks of summer // 18 playlists // week 18: summer withdrawal blues.

Don’t get me wrong, summer isn’t over until the end of September, officially.  Like me though, you probably just can’t help but feel the end of the season.  A new page.

You will have all the pictures you have taken.  You will have all the friends you have made. Summer, however, will be waiting for you in June…or the southern hemisphere.

As September begins, I feel the summer withdrawal blues.


18 weeks of summer // 18 playlists // week 17: echoes & egos.

Sometimes it takes an ego to gain the confidence needed to speak to certain people, whether that be one on one or one on five hundred thousand.  Ego can be mistaken for character or charisma.  It can be mistaken for charm or swagger or skill.

Nevertheless, there are many people with egos in the world.  I am thankful for at least some.

the second last playlist of the summer is echoes & egos.

18 weeks of summer // 18 playlists // week 16: faded.

To me listening to an album from the 60s or 70s is like reading a history book.  I imagine everything being described to me like an old newspaper you find in your basement that has turned a faded yellow.

I recently stumbled upon a few old BBC session albums I had lying around from a few artists. It’s really interesting to compare the approach we hear everyday on the radio in MMXII to the approach used by the BBC in the 60s.  They have a touch that is unique to the times, which is dictated by the audience.

the music is fine, the music is faded.


18 weeks of summer // 18 playlists // week 15: nightfly.

The night forces you to use your less dependable senses.  It plays tricks on you.  Makes you think small things are much larger than they sound.  And then, when you think you have it all figured out, it shows your mind just enough to confuse it momentarily.

It can be exhilarating and terrifying depending where you are and who you’re with.  For me I’ve experienced this with friends; Camping, partying and dancing in the dark with only small lights in the night.

So, if you live for the night, you know what I mean when I say nightfly.

are you nightfly?


18 weeks of summer // 18 playlists // week 14: hippy girl.

Sometimes inspiration comes to you when you least expect it.  A few weeks ago I found myself listening to new music provided by a new friend while drifting along through her own website of mystifying pictures and quotations.  I feel picture-centered sites like tumblr generate a theme that often shines a light on the poster’s own unique way of thinking.

I feel that the pictures sparked an interest, something clicked and in an instant I found myself stringing songs together in an almost soundtrack-like manner.

this is for that hippy girl.

18 weeks of summer // 18 playlists // week 13: electric sunrise.

Music plays a role in almost any situation.  Even the unexpected.

A day trip to the beach with the radio blasting over the sound the wind makes on an open window while you rip down the highway.

Your friend’s tunes pumping from a steadily draining gizmo that he put on a piece of wood close to wear you are soaking up the sun.

New friends that hear your tunes and join your day trip, that is slowly turning into a night trip.

The tunes that keep you company as you walk the beach with someone else at night trying to find that spot away from the fire that everyone is huddled around.

Then, in that moment, when you are dreaming something with a soundtrack too good to be true, the music cuts and you wake up to find yourself in the same spot as the night before with corners of the sky brightening….

here comes the electric sunrise.

18 weeks of summer // 18 playlists // week 12: high waves.

Being a kid has its perks.  No summer job, ice cream galore, beach days filled with building sandcastles with moats and jellyfish fights (sorry to those of you are landlocked with no beaches, but you luck out with no jellyfish, trust me).

When I was a kid I used to swim out to sandbars where the big waves would roll in and really knock you off your feet.  My dad used to join me as I jumped into the waves.  I marvelled at how the waves never seemed as high on him.  I miss the days of being a kid.

ride the high waves.