When I was younger, maybe ten, I noticed the way my best friend’s mom Wendy drove her Mini Cooper while we were on our way to the beach. Hands resting on the steering wheel, her thumbs flickered up and down the black leather for the whole of the ride. Years later, at 17, I got my own license. Now when I’m weaving through stranger upon stranger on the New Jersey highways, I observe my fingers moving in that flickering motion. I transport myself down paved roads the same way Wendy does.

In freshman year of high school, my friend Annabel and I ventured to Manhattan. We met at the South Orange Dunkin’ Donuts across from the train station, and she ordered a small iced caramel coffee with cream. Unaware of my own tastebuds having never ordered a coffee of my own, I repeated her words to the cashier. At 19, I still ask for the same drink Annabel used to introduce me to the adult activity of drinking coffee. I have no idea if her order has changed — mine definitely has, now extending to hot foamy cappuccinos and iced vanilla lattes as my tolerance for bitterness has broadened. Every morning I go to my “grown up” café which sits across from my “grown up” room (my college dorm) on the way to get my “grown up” education. But during roadtrips and in strip malls when I find myself in buildings that brew what America runs on, I still order Annabel’s drink and relive the feeling of having made my first friend outside of convenience while sipping a brown drug that I believed would age me.

Today, I sat in my Public Speaking class and let my professor’s lecture roll over my head. I diverted my focus to Adrianne Lenker, the front-woman of Big Thief, and her solo lyricism, sifting through Spotify and adding songs to a playlist I made for a girl. This led me to my Notes App, where I scribbled what I feel these days in poetic structure. I read back what I wrote and sensed Adrianne inside the words. I adore the human ability to pick up on someone’s inspiration in their art. Our mosaics inform our creations. Like, I sense Elliot Smith in Phoebe Bridgers and Bruce Springsteen in Lucy Dacus. LCD Soundsystem exists inside Matty Healy and the Bible exists in Julien Baker. In the year 2024, nothing that can be said is revolutionary anymore. But, the collective “we” are not the Masses, and it’s our right to dissect old testaments and discover worn out words for ourselves. That’s sweet, I think.

My Mom’s Mom lives on in her and my Grandma is clearly somebody’s sister. I am my father’s daughter when I talk myself down from the ledge and ease my stress-induced nausea with the thought of my head hitting a familiar pillow at Midnight. I text people the way my friend Sammi used to text me. When I float on my back in a body of water, I repeat “tickle, T, touch” to myself as the instructors did in Learn-To-Swim, even though I have been able to float for years.

And now, writing this out, I wonder who Wendy watched fiddle their thumbs, or who suggested Annabel try that coffee. It’s like a giant, infinite web of centuries that connect us all, binding us to people we’ve never met, and hammering in habits practiced by people who’ve been dead for years. It’s nice to think about— How we all influence each other for as far as space sprawls out.

Just now, while my friend Michael walked with me to the library, he hummed the tune of Without You, Without Them by Boygenius. It’s such a funny coincidence because i’ve never heard him sing Boygenius, and this particular song is literally what the Mosaic Theory is all about (at least, one could argue as such). “Thank your father before you, his mother before him; Who would I be without you, without them?”, they sing. They’re acknowledging that whomever they’re wishing to get to know is, in part, themselves because of their parents and pasts. It makes me think about my uncle Dave, who was raised by different parents than my mother was. I wonder in which ways they are similar and different because of it. To know someone is to know where they come from and who they were built by.

All this talk of what we are made up of makes me think of something I contemplate often: What makes us “real”? My first instinct is to say, “To be real is to be witnessed”. But when I go further, I don’t actually think that’s true. I think all it is to be real is to give yourself space to bleed out without the worry of staining anything. I love writing in journals no one will ever read because in doing so I grant myself the peace of mind that comes with having my consciousness on record. What makes me real is that I can read through old journals and see that my experiences really did happen. They sit there collecting dust, unchanged. I can contemplate if I would have written the same words today— Take notice of how situations don’t change, but my perception of them does. I can observe my own evolution and connect it to my experiences and to those around me.

It’s also another reminder to be mindful in how you conduct yourself. They say that children are sponges, but we never truly stop absorbing. I don’t believe in peaking because you will never want exactly the same thing at any given stage in your life — we pick up pieces of the world around us and never stop. It’s scary to think that someone could potentially pick up a bad habit of yours, but I guess that’s why our parents tell us to “do what they say, not what they do”. In turn, it’s quite rewarding to see yourself in the people you love, and to know that they probably see themselves in you too. More than skin and bone, we are just mirrors of the world around us.

Okay, we’re getting a little deep for a Monday morning, so I’ll leave you with that mound to digest. I guess i’ve just produced a flow of consciousness of sorts, but every now and then you’ve got to let the dam flow and unclog the gutter. I’m only human! I’ve got a movie review in the works, and will probably post it soon.

In the meantime, I’ll keep collecting pieces of people and on my deathbed, go through it all like a scrapbook. I wonder what else I’ll find!

So what have we gotten up to since my arrival? Let’s start with the fact that because of this city’s never-ending club scene mixed with the 6-hour jet lag, our sleep schedule has consisted of going to bed somewhere between 4 and 10 am, then waking up at 2pm earliest, which poses an issue as most of the shops and cafés close around 4. But we have managed to do as much as I could have hoped for, like perusing curated vintage shops, record stores, and galleries. Our typical evenings include bar hopping around Neukölln and Kreuzberg, where the nightlife ranges from raging rave parties to cozy and intimate bars. Our favorite bar, Heiner’s (or, as we call it, Heinie’s (yes, like an ass!)), is where we’ve had some of our favorite moments yet. It has become our tried and true, cheap and chill hangout with good music and great conversation. It’s where I bonded with Kate’s friends. Something i’ve noticed about Berlin is that many people come to the bars alone to read or journal with a glass of wine. Not all of the nightlife is about partying, but more-so decompressing after the work day, and recentering yourself or connecting with friends, which i’m not sure is as common in NYC.

Speaking of the club scene, i’ve now been to three esteemed Berlin nightclubs that are must-visits if you ever come to this city. The scene here is very different than New York City. It’s much more “anything goes”. There are no cameras or phones allowed inside, which makes for a very comfortable environment. People dress more for expression rather than sexiness. There is no judgement and everybody is friends with everybody once you go through the doors. There are also zero expectations—none of my interactions felt transactional. The clubs here really are safe spaces to be free and connect with each other. It was a truly incredible experience and i’ve never seen a club culture quite like it. If one thing is for sure, Germans know how to party. We found ourselves leaving the clubs anywhere from 6AM to 10AM—which meant a spa day and a home cooked dinner was gravely needed to recover!

We also partook in some cultural activities, like spending a day at the Neue Nationalgalerie (New National Gallery). I really enjoyed the Gerhard Richter room, which displays his collection of pieces reflecting the Holocaust. Kate, who visited the gallery with her class earlier this year, explained what was intended with each piece. The collection was very beautiful and, as Kate and I discussed, important because the last generation of survivors are getting older. Soon we will no longer have first-hand experiences to listen to, and will depend on younger generations to remember the stories. To learn about the tragedy in this city has been a very emotional and invaluable experience.

On Saturday, we went to the famous Babylon Theater to watch Nosferatu with a live orchestra. I have never seen an old classic, and attending the screening in an old-timey box theater was a joy. We were served popcorn and wine and laughed a lot. Those silent film actors really have comedic timing nailed!

Kate brought me to The Berliner Dom, which to put it simply, blew my mind. It is one of the most architecturally beautiful buildings I have ever seen in real life. The detail and craftsmanship, along with the sheer size of the thing, was incredible. We then visited some Humboldt University structures, walked past the Pink Opera House, and stopped into a controversial WWII memorial.

Everywhere we went, we brought along our friend Fergol (named after a bartender we befriended in New York City), an ugly doll Kate has had since childhood. We took photos of him around the city and posing with people we’d met along the way. We also asked new friends to write a short message in a notebook. We’ve gathered tons of messages, some funny and some really beautiful. It is a little freeze-frame of the characters we’ve encountered during my stay.

Tonight Kate and I, her friends Danny and Chili, and her schoolmates Grace and Bella are going to a Dorian Electra concert. I’m excited to see the Berlin music scene—something I haven’t gotten around to yet, surprisingly. I wonder how it will compare to the New York City scene, and even how it will compare to Berlin clubs. I plan to write a review after the show, so check back soon to read it!

That’s all for now. Next time I write I will be back in the States and back to reality. I’m grateful I got to spend my winter break in a new city with an old friend. I have missed you all… see you soon! Peace for now.

Going to Greece was a major deal for me. When I went to France at age 12, I spent the first three days of the trip tethered to the back wall of our apartment, inconsolably shivering. In Montreal I laid under the shower water all night, letting it hit me like little bullets to distract from the impending doom.

Since then, I’ve gotten a tattoo that reads “That I Would Be Good” on my leg and a support system. People to text or to call. In Greece, there was no shivering or all-night-showering. There will definitely be some international call charges on my phone bill, but no shivering or all-night-showering. That’s a win in my eyes.

Worried about repeating past travel experiences, my therapist told me, “Sure you’ve traveled before, but you’ve never travelled as You. You weren’t You yet when you were 12. You’ve never done THIS before. This is brand new”. And she’s right - I have never traveled before with such a toolkit in my back pocket.

In January, I’ll fly to Berlin for two weeks. I’ll return for three in June to write for a UCSB journalism program. I’ll live in London next year for school, and I don’t even feel scared. It’s a true anomaly - my brain is so used to contracting at the thought of travel that the sureness itself fills me with trepidation. Sureness is unexplored territory for me, but I have stuck the flag into the ground. Exploration of sureness is on it’s way, and i’m so grateful and genuinely proud of myself, which is why I am choosing to write about it.

Boygenius has released their music video for “Cool About It” nearly six months after the single’s original release. The band took a new approach, collaborating with artist Lauren Tsai to create an animated video.

Commenters have been discussing their thoughts and interpretations about the video, which features an arguably ambiguous storyline. Personally, I was moved to tears upon first watch. Here is my takeaway from the story:

The video focuses on three characters that I’ll call “The Dog”, “The Doll”, and The Dog’s “Owner”, based on how they appear in the video.

The Dog is on a walk with his Owner, who most likely represents his current lover. He passes The Doll, who I infer to be his old lover, as she lay strewn across a bench. This scene represents an ex-couple reconnecting, presumably by accident; here, they run into each other in a public park.

The Dog approaches The Doll as she rests limp on the bench, and in the most literal sense, brings her back to life. His presence personifies her. She sits up and her image shifts from a rag-doll to a human. I interpret this as a metaphor for power dynamics in toxic relationships. Here, The Dog holds the power over The Doll. She is a fragile, poorly sewn toy, and he takes her in his sharp tooth-filled mouth.

The dog and toy imagery alone is a very powerful metaphor; it tells us that she is not human to him. The idea that she is his favorite toy transmits to the audience that she will always be waiting, and he knows this of her. He can pick her up any time he pleases, have his fun, then leave her alone again.

I believe the dog imagery could also be a callback to Phoebe Bridgers’ track “Moon Song” off her second solo record “Punisher”. She sings, “I will wait for the next time you want me, like a dog with a bird at your door”. This line has been explained to represent Bridgers as the dog, her love as the bird, and her lover as the dog’s owner.

To a dog, a dead bird is a gift — a bid of adoration and appreciation. But to an owner, it is unwanted — repulsive, even. A dog will never understand that its owner does not want its gift, and will forever be waiting outside the door, ready to give. I infer that The Doll is found by The Dog lying lifeless on a park bench from the last time he left her. There she remained, ready and waiting, like the dog in Moon Song.

I digress. Back to the video: As The Dog approaches, we see his shadow tower over The Doll as her eyes widen. In the next shot, a foreshadowing of the truth is revealed: A human man is standing before her. He is wearing a wolf mask tied around his face. This is the first hint that The Dog is not who he appears to be, or that The Doll is incapable of seeing him as he truly is.

The Dog sits down next to her. She maintains a shell-shocked expression on her face and looks straight ahead, never meeting his eye. He begins to advance, sniff the air around her, and eventually, the two join hands.

Quickly following the first touch, they go through a period of bliss; bodies intertwining, skin melting into one another’s. We see them transcend space and time as a single unit.

Just as the story reaches the pinnacle of pleasure, the bed they are lying in breaks and falls out from under them. The Doll is shown looking backward amongst a crowd of people walking forward. Once again, she has been left in the lurch.

After her abandonment, the world around her begins to melt away and turns to dust. I interpret this as her fantasy breaking. She had believed that maybe, just maybe, this would be the time that The Dog would choose her.

We watch as The Dog traces The Doll’s stitching (which represent the scars he has left over time), suggesting that he knows he is the one who inflicted them upon her. This could also just be Boygenius acknowledging that reconnecting and falling out is a pattern for the pair. Like a prisoner ticking the wall with each passing day, every stitch on The Doll’s body is an instance when her dreamscape was shattered by The Dog’s inevitable leaving. Bridgers has said that Moon Song is about “wanting someone to treat you badly because at least they’ll treat you at all”, which could explain The Doll’s tendency to participate in this pattern if the callback is in fact intentional.

In the scene leading up to the climax, we see a very brief moment of eye contact shared between The Dog and The Dog’s Owner. The Doll is suddenly reminded that he is with her now and snaps back into reality. Immediately following, she pulls away from an embrace with The Dog and tears off his mask. She is thrown into an abyss and begins to rip apart at the seams. Stuffing emerges from every part of her body. She turns lifeless again and folds in on herself, only to become one big mass of cotton.

In a final act of power, The Dog pulls the stuffingless shell of The Doll apart with his teeth, and his mask shatters to the floor. To me, this communicates to the audience that this is the final time he will hurt her. She has nothing left to give. She is torn open beyond repair, and finally sees who he is underneath the mask. She now understands that he will keep adding scars every time he sees her.

This music video is some of the most effective storytelling to accompany a song that I have seen to my recollection. A bold statement, sure, but one that I feel rings true. The emotion I feel during every stream of the song was embodied to a T.

Boygenius is currently on the final leg of their tour with six shows remaining. Listen to The Record here.

Good news, though - I’m going to be DJing on WPUB, Pace University’s student radio station. My show is called Inside Wants Out (sound familiar?), every Wednesday from 4 PM to 5 PM.

Each week will have a different theme. My first show is the Get To Know Me episode - What i’m listening to right now, old favorites, and multi-genre segments to represent my interests as a whole.

I’m also always open to suggestions - if you want to hear a certain song, or would like to dedicate a song to someone, even add in a little message, let me know and tune in to hear your pick on air (I’d love to be the messenger for a pleading Ross-to-Rachel U2 apology!!!).

My first show is the 20th of September, so mark your calendars! I can’t wait to fill your ears with cool shit over the next 13 weeks!!!

I might even use my Substack to document the thought behind each week’s theme more in depth than I can afford to get into during my one hour on air. I’ll try to record each episode and upload a playlist of everything that was played in case you like anything you hear.

Anyway, I’m so excited to get started and hope you guys tune in.

By the way, when hosts aren’t on air, we have other music playing, so there’s tunes 24/7. Check it out if you ever need new music or can’t choose what to play.

WPUB Live Listen

Stranger In The Alps:

• Smoke Signals: One of your eyes is always half shut, something happened when you were a kid - I didn’t know you then, and I’ll never under understand why it feels like I did.

• Motion Sickness: And while you’re bleeding on your back, I’ll be glad that I made it out and sorry that it all went down like it did.

• Funeral: I have a friend I call when I’ve bored myself to tears, and we talk until we think we might just kill ourselves, and then we laugh until it disappears.

• Demi Moore: Now I’m too tired to go to sleep.

• Scott Street: Do you feel ashamed when you hear my name?//Anyway, don’t be a stranger.

• Killer: When I’m sick and tired, and my mind is barely there, when a machine keeps me alive and I’m losing all my hair, I hope you kiss my rotten head and pull the plug; Know that I’ve burned every playlist and given all my love.

• Georgia: When he gets older, he might be the one//If I fix you, will you hate me?

• Chelsea: You are somebody’s baby, some mother held you near.

• Would you rather: You were still in the ambulance when the cop suggested you’re the one who tried to burn it down.

Punisher:

• Garden Song: The doctor put her hands over my liver; She told me my resentment’s getting smaller.

• Kyoto: I don’t forgive you, but please don’t hold me to it.

• Punisher: What if I told you I feel like I know you, but we never met?

• Halloween: I used to joke that if they woke you up, somebody better be dying.

• Chinese Satellite: But you know I’d stand on the corner, embarrassed with a picket sign, if it meant I would see you when I die.

• Moon song: So I will wait for the next time you want me, like a dog with a bird at your door.

• Savior Complex: All the skeletons you hide, show me yours, ill show you mine.

• ICU: I don’t know what I want until I fuck it up.

• Graceland, Too: Ate a sleeve of saltines on my floor and I knew then, I would do anything you want me to, I would do anything for you […] Whatever she wants (whatever you want)//Turns up the music so thoughts don’t intrude.

• I Know The End: You had to go… I know, I know, I know.

Single Releases:

• Waiting Room: I wanna make you drive all night just because I said maybe you should come over, I wanna make you fall in love as hard as my poor parents’ teenage daughter.

• Sidelines: And I used to think you could hear the ocean in a seashell; what a childish thing. 

Bonus:

• You Missed My Heart (Written by Mark Kozelek of Red House Painters, covered by Phoebe Bridgers): You got me good, I knew you would, but you missed my heart.

• It’ll All Work Out (Written by Tom Petty, covered by Phoebe Bridgers): There were times apart and times together; I was pledged to her for worse or better; When it mattered most I let her down; That's the way it goes, it'll all work out.

Check out Stranger In The Alps and Punisher by Phoebe Bridgers to hear each song listed.

The two were both there for the influx of emotional music makers; with 80’s pop on the way out and grunge on the way in, Alice In Chains, Pearl Jam, and Nirvana were huge names preceding Mann and Morissette’s peaks by a year or two. The mid-through-late 90s was a monumental time for women in music, particularly women outside of the pop genre, to bear their emotions through a heavier sound and substantial lyricism. 

Hole’s Live Through This and Tori Amos’s Under The Pink dropped in 1994. Jagged Little Pill was released in ‘95, then Fiona Apple’s Tidal and Paula Cole’s This Fire surfaced in ‘96. Aimee Mann topped off a great decade of music with her album for the Magnolia soundtrack in ‘99. 

Needless to say, those 5 years were a rush of angry women taking a male-dominated industry by storm. 

Aimee was the perfect opener for the Jagged Little Pill 25th Anniversary Tour. The first word that comes to mind for her performance is authentic. There were no frills– there didn’t need to be. She’s one of the most natural “real-deals" I’ve gotten to see live. Although she hasn’t juiced her career in the way that many stars do, she’s maintained a respect amongst musicians and listeners alike.

You can tell that music comes very instinctually to Aimee and her bandmates. The consistency and synchronicity of their playing created this delicious full sound that reached every corner of the Prudential Center– a quality I am extremely drawn to in music. The Smashing Pumpkins, though much “harder” than Aimee, possess the same quality of fullness in their music. Every layer is accounted for. It’s interesting to see how two artists can possess a shared quality and still maintain a distinctively different sound. 

Aimee’s performance convinced me that even if she had zero listeners and sang into her mirror, she’d still do so, because she has to. You can tell her songs are for her. Music is just her outlet, not her claim to fame– She just happens to be really good too. 

Following Aimee’s performance, Alanis joined the stage behind her band members. She managed to make the 17,000-capacity Prudential Center feel like an intimate club show. It’s no question she is a seasoned performer who is comfortable in front of so many eyes. One of the least self-conscious stage presences I’ve witnessed, she’s playful her the audience, spinning, dancing, and stimming like she’s in a sensory wonderland.

She made her way from each side of the stage, acknowledging every corner of the stadium. I don’t know about the other tens of thousands of people who surrounded me during her set, but my feet were welded to the ground; nothing outside of the venue existed for as long as her set lasted, which is an indicator of the true power of a good performer. 

Let’s talk a little bit about Alanis’s work itself. What with her first album Jagged Little Pill absolutely smashing records across the board, lots of people don’t bother to look any further. After all, the 12-song LP gives you everything you need from an uplifting “You Learn”, to an enraged “You Oughta Know”, and even a secret track on the CD, “Your House”, for the unrequited lovers out there. 

I’d go as far as considering it a masterpiece, and certainly an unarguable modern classic. But giving her further discography a listen may be well worth it for you, as it was for me. Her trailing albums feature tracks with spiritual, self-reflective, groundbreaking lyrics. 

I recommend her later albums Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie and self-produced Under Rug Swept for the poets among musicians. Lyrics are Alanis’s secret weapon; I used her writing for my high school yearbook quote, the basis of my college essay, and have a line tattooed on my leg. 

The Rock was my second time seeing Alanis live, the first being in July of 2022. Since then, she has lost her former bandmate and Foo Fighters drummer Taylor Hawkins, and released a meditation album. She’s been busy, but is still riding her wave of magnificence. Her voice never seemed to drop from its peak; it’s fresh and powerful, as we all know her to be. She still harbors the same energy she had at the start.

Overall, it was a magnificent show. Both sets had such a human sound. It’s quite special to see art that makes you remember everyone feels things— sometimes intensely enough to create a piece around it. No embellishments, no novelty, just talented people articulating things that have been stuck in your throat for decades. 

Find the setlists here.

I, myself, go for Phoebe Bridgers and the Smashing Pumpkins, another opposing pair. As a member of both artists’ fanbases, I’ve noticed a lot of overlap. In fact, one of my favorite Instagram accounts, @grunge_bible, which focuses on grunge artists and the 90s alt-music era, mentions Phoebe all the time. 

So why do exponentially different artists often share the same listeners? My theory is there doesn’t have to be a shared sound between two artists for there to be a shared quality that attracts the same type of listener. For me, I’m a lyrics girl. That’s why The 1975’s “Don't fall in love with the moment and think you’re in love with the girl” (She’s American)  gets me just as good as Jeff Buckley’s “My heart is so still, as I try to find the will to forget her” (Forget Her). Most would deem the two incomparable, but I say it is undeniable that they both share an element of creativity and fresh articulation when it comes to writing.

To prove my theory, I’ve made a list of artists that I think each other's fans would enjoy. 

If you’re into Beabadoobee’s edgier stuff, like Talk or Cologne, consider checking out Mila Degray. I saw her open for Sir Chloe in May of 2023 and her music immediately made me think of Bea’s fanbase. The two singers share feminine, smooth, and sweet voices that float nicely on top of fuzzy guitars and defined drums. Both artists feel very in between genres– not quite indie, rock, or pop, but a crisp, other thing. Check out Skinny Brittle Bones by Mila Degray to get a feel. 

If you listen to Soccer Mommy, you might like Highnoon, too. I discovered them as the opening act for Leith Ross. There’s a quality to each artist that makes their songs sound very whole; I’d argue most musicians are known more distinctively for their lyrics or for their music. Both Soccer Mommy and Highnoon possess a specific fullness to their songs. The lyrics and music feel interconnected - like it would be hard to make a mashup with any other song. If you like your music to be comprehensive, give Highnoon a try. 

For all the Jamie Cullum fans out there, give Rufus Wainwright a listen. Both artists have jazzy and theatrical undertones in their music. Jamie has a powerful voice that propels his songs, especially his pop covers, into deeper meaning. Rufus shares this quality with songs like The Art Teacher. His voice enhances the song and makes you really take in the lyrics. Both artists are great examples of how stylistic choices can make or break the reception of valuable lyrical content. I’d recommend either of them to anybody who is an untrained music fanatic. Either pick is great for casual jazz listeners. 

Any fan of Slow Pulp is familiar with their ethereal indie sound. Almost shoegazey, the band uses lots of synth and pedals combined with clean-toned guitar and piano. A good listen for Slow Pulp fans is Skullcrusher. The distinct strumming patterns and breathy singing style utilized by either artist create the same effect on the ear. Whatever Fits Together and Places/Plans are two of my favorites.

If you’ve been following Maya Hawke’s journey into the music world, you’d probably get some real satisfaction from giving Julie Delpy a listen. The two already overlap-- Maya’s father, Ethan Hawke, starred alongside Julie in the Before trilogy, spanning over 18 years. Julie’s song, A Waltz For A Night, has honest lyrics that are sickly sweet and poetic. She says things that seem obvious once heard, but are out of reach to articulate for the average mind. Her imperfect, breathy voice makes her songs feel intimate, like we’re not supposed to be listening; like we’ve read her diary. Maya’s music carries the same attributes. 

Find a playlist featuring all of the comparisons here.