The Sounds She Collected is a newsletter about mixtapes and mixed emotions. Thanks for being part of this hive mind for empathetic, hopeful people.
I have drafts littering the side pane of my Substack. Little missives written that ultimately went nowhere, because with the long-drawn-out apathy that came with this lingering pandemic also came a crippling writer’s block. I now feel I have a glimpse of understanding how Fran Lebowitz feels in her decades-long writer’s block (though she is still getting paid to make appearances and create an entire show dedicated to complaining on Netflix, which I absolutely support).
The thoughts read as a string of ideas you put in your Notes app after waking up from a weird dream at 3am. That’s kind of how this year has felt for me so far: fits and starts, bursts of inspiration, but all the while feeling, This does not make sense?
This week marks one year of walks as leisure activities, trying to make bread, mastering TikTok pastas, getting excited about knitting patterns, buying matching sweatsuits for a quick dopamine hit, looking at way too many screens, constantly being aware of one’s own mortality.
The most jarring aspect for me at this point is the fact that we are just expected to go back to normal; what will happen to the past year of our lives? How am I supposed to enter a dirty dive bar or a packed concert hall after this? I want some closure, but it seems that life is just going to nudge us back into a dizzying pace and hurry us along—if we let it.
While I in no way ever want to memorialize this time again, I don’t want to forget everything I have learned. I don’t want to go back to things exactly as they were, because they must be different. I am so different.
Feeling antsy is a defining feature of my being these days. I want to see my friends’ faces, in person. The voice memo has proven to be my saving grace; hearing actual voices and feeling as if the physical distance is bridged, if only for a little while, has reminded me that I will go to a dinner party again, stand in a packed concert hall, sing karaoke, even hang out in someone else’s home.
To soothe the strange emotionality of this week, I’ve been listening to a lot of R&B and soul music. I am nearly embarrassed at the number of times I have listened to the new Anderson .Paak and Bruno Mars collab, “Leave The Door Open.” Those HARMONIES! It’s overwhelmingly beautiful, and I can’t wait for the full album.
I’ve also been obsessed with a song by rising artist CHIKA this week. (I mean, how did I not know about CHIKA with this insane Tiny Desk Concert?!) She released her newest EP just two days ago, and it’s already getting a ton of buzz.
But the song I can’t get over right now is CHIKA’s cover of Billie Eilish’s “My Future,” released on a two-song Spotify Singles drop this past Friday. It’s so smooth and deliberate and just overall beautiful.
So for playlist 52, butter, I gathered songs that complemented these vibes, and present to you a playlist of silky smooth jams. Wherever you are, however you are, I hope this gives you moments of joy.
It’s all happening (again),
Sarah
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