The Music of May
Every month I compile around 30 songs to a playlist. It’s a mix of the month’s most-played songs, the year’s most-played songs (so far), songs I like, songs I stumbled upon, songs that got me through the workday, songs that people showed me, and/or songs that are tied to a specific memory.
I really want to talk about the songs that stuck out the most to me this month. The song with memories, old and new, tied to them. May was a month of high highs and low lows, and the first song I’ll discuss, Harry Chapin’s “Cat’s in the Cradle,” fits into the lows.
Cat’s in the Cradle, Harry Chapin (1974)
This is a song I have always related to since I was a kid. And it’s strange to look and see that my life, in a way, parallels the song. There’s not a song that makes me cry the way this one does for that reason. I’ve spent my entire life being told that I was just like my dad, and as a kid, I wanted to be like him. Don’t most boys want to be like their fathers?
I thought it was sick that he worked on C-130s and C-5s. As much as it sucked that he was away, both between my parents' divorce and deployments, I loved hearing about his time in Afghanistan, Iraq, Kenya, and Kuwait, and the list keeps going. It was incredible to see photos of these places and hear about what they were like, compared to how the media depicted the Middle East.
I wanted to join the military and work on planes more than anything. I wanted to be like him.
But that is not what “being like dad” meant. I was only ever told I was like him when I was in trouble or angry. Being like Dad meant being an asshole to everyone. It meant not being able to handle anger in the right way. It meant not following through on promises and missing out on important moments, such as a college graduation.
Our relationship has been strained for a long time. I spent much of my pre and early-to-late teens being angry at him, and rightfully so. He missed out on a lot. Damn near everything. In his words, “days about me,” like a birthday, or I bring it up again, graduating, were never about me. Dad missed out, once again, this time choosing a retirement party for his friend.
Always a “sorry kid, but I am so proud of you.” Which is nice. I really do appreciate it, but it would mean so much more in person. To hear “good job” over the phone, especially after graduating and getting my bachelors, hurt. It made me feel like I was eight years old again, wanting to hide away from the world, confused about how to feel about Dad not showing again. Do I shrug my shoulders and gaslight myself into believing I don’t care? Let myself be angry about it? Cry?
I did all of the above in that order.
I’m hitting a point in my own life where I’m too busy (drowning in bills and debt), and I have no idea when the next time I’ll see him is. My job does happen to be a hassle (in the best way), and I’m often needed on weekends and nights. Money is tight too, and I don’t have time between work and every other aspect of my life.
When we do see each other, conversations fizzle out quickly, and interactions are — for lack of a better term — awkward. Like there’s something that needs to be said, but neither of us can say it or put it into words.
And I feel like that’s the situation towards the song's end. Someone needs to say something to the other, but it can’t come out because the two have been busy their whole lives. A father who was too busy for his son, and now a son too busy for his father.
The two of us are so busy with our own lives that we don’t have the opportunity to get together and have a good time, actually get together and do something or talk, not just bump into each other on holiday with a standard “how is everything?”
One of us is going to have to leave the cradle eventually.
Rock Lobster, The B-52’s (1978)
“Rock Lobster” is an absolute banger of a song. I first heard it on “Just Dance 4” back when the Xbox Kinect was still a thing. There are a lot of good memories tied with the song; most of them centered around my mom laughing her ass off while my friend and I went crazy hard on the game.
To me, “Rock Lobster” is wrapped up tightly in the arms of laughter. Laughter is why “Rock Lobster” has been added to the list.
My fraternity brothers and I went on a beach trip early in May. While at the beach, I took a heroic dose of mushrooms at 7:45 in the morning and went off to the beach on my own for a bit. When they really hit, I returned to the apartment just as people were leaving to get coffee. I invited myself into a group, got in the car, and requested “that the driver play some bangers.”
The driver, who is incredibly well-versed in music, obliged and played the banger of a song at full volume.
Imagine this: you’ve just woken up. You want to get some coffee, so you join a group that’s headed that way. Unfortunately for you, your friend is off his ass on mushrooms and sitting beside you. He’s cackling while trying to sing, tears of pure joy running down his face. He can only stop laughing long enough to yell, “rock lobster!”
But now you’re 6 minutes into the song. Fred Schneider has sung the lines “Here comes a stingray,” and immediately your friend joins in, emulating all the noises Kate Pierson and Cindy Wilson make, before returning to his endless laughing fit. Right in your ear. Not loud enough to deafen you but loud enough that 110% of your attention is focused on it.
It is 9:15 a.m. You’ve yet to get your coffee, and the song is about to play again.
I love “Rock Lobster.” Genuinely, I love the song and can’t get enough. It currently sits at the top of my Spotify’s “On Repeat” playlist.
An Endless Cycle (Wayne’s Theme), Chuck Salamone, Mason Lindroth (2021)
I really like instrumental music. Mick Gordon’s soundtrack to the 2016 release of “DOOM” opened my eyes to the magic of instrumental music.
Yes, that “DOOM.” The one whose origins date to the early 90s. The one about fighting hordes of demons on Mars and in Hell. The game that stirred up plenty of controversy when it first came out in 1993. The game changed how video games, especially first-person shooters, functioned.
2016’s release is both a very different game, yet holds a lot of similarities to the original releases. In fact, Mick Gordon drew inspiration from the first game’s soundtrack and turned it into an industrial metal soundtrack. The album has been hailed as one of the greatest game soundtracks of all time by many, including me.
“An Endless Cycle” is not like the “DOOM” soundtrack but is inspired by a game. It is the first song of four on an EP called “Moonage Lobotomy — A Hylics 2 Musical Expansion.” The four songs of the EP are based on the four characters in the game “Hylics,” the songs being their theme of a sort.
To my knowledge, the songs aren’t in the game, only inspired by it. If you were to look up the game, look at its art, and listen to some of its music, you’d see that they hit the nail on the head. They captured the feel of the game. The cover of the EP fits exactly with the songs; it feels like the characters on the cover are playing music that is as strange and memorable as they are.
“An Endless Cycle” is 6 minutes of a mix of post and psychedelic rock. It’s one of the “heavier” songs out of the four, and its title tells exactly what to expect. The song feels like an endless cycle. There are moments when it stops or seems it’s about to. It slows and quiets down briefly before the guitar picks up, putting you in a loop. Putting you right back where you started.
My best friend showed me the song and the game it originated from. I really recommend at least looking at the game’s art and character design. I loved the whole EP. Four instrumental songs, each with a unique sound to them.
“An Endless Cycle” grabbed me more than any of the songs. I suppose it’s because I sometimes feel like I’m in an endless cycle.
Again, I cannot recommend the entire EP enough — especially to anyone who enjoys trippy instrumental music.
YOU’RE THE ONE and VIVID DREAMS, KAYTRANADA (2016)
I put the two of them together because that’s how they were shown to me, at 1 a.m., in the front seat of a jeep in the parking lot right next to the beach by a friend. If you’re going to listen to one, you might as well listen to the other since “YOU’RE THE ONE” ends with a perfect transition of maracas into “VIVID DREAMS.” If “YOU’RE THE ONE” plays, I am legally obligated to play “VIVID DREAMS” right after.
The songs and the transition raised the hair on my neck in that tingling “oh, this hits” kind of way. I didn’t realize that the song had changed until she pointed it out. The maracas in both the outro and intro into the songs are an actual chef’s kiss of an incredibly smooth transition.
And the songs on their own are bops, bangers, as it was described to me, creamy. They’re smooth and upbeat songs, both something to move to and sit and vibe to. And that’s what we did; we sat and listened to music until the birds woke up with the first signs of the sun rising. Almost every song that played that a banger.
I asked for a playlist on my way back to the Airbnb; when someone has good music taste and shows you songs as good as these two, you have to ask for a playlist.
When I returned to the Airbnb at 6:00 a.m., I had a playlist of new songs and artists, many of whom I had never heard of, which was super exciting. I get to become familiar with new artists and albums, such as KAYTRANADA.
Other songs on the album that I really liked and feel should be mentioned but didn’t have much to say or have yet to figure out the words for include:
- “Shadowplay,” The Killers (2007)
- “Private Idaho,” The B-52s (1978)
- “Found God in a Tomato,” Psychedelic Porn Crumpets (2016)
- “20200816 She Want The Sandwich,” Mac DeMarco (2023)
- “The Man From Waco,” Charlie Crockett (2022)
- “Silver Soul,” Beach House (2010)
As I said, there are almost 30 songs in the playlist below. It’s a lot to talk about. I hope you can find as much delight and emotional connection in these songs as I have.
