It’s Friday, I’m in love…

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Hey, guys. Welcome to the weekend. Here’s a playlist. A little longer this time, but whatever. I just couldn’t cram enough goodness into 45 tracks. After finishing some of these lists, I think, “eh, that’s fine.” Others, I think, “that’s awesome.” This one is one of the latter.

Oodles of freshness. Check out “The French Press” from Oz’ Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever – my fave track of 2017, so far. There’s new Flasher, Chazzy Belt, Earthen Sea, Goldfrapp, Clark, the New Pornographers, and Gorillaz. There’s new Kendrick and his wff Drake. There’s new ANOHI, Kelly Lee Owens, Half Waif, Peter Silberman (the Antlers), and Mikal Cronin. There’s new Whitney, Laura Marling, Aimee Mann, and Lorde. Oh, and what?! A brand-spankin’ thing by Toronto’s 40-something superstars, and the greatest fn band in the world, BSS. Yeah, they’re back. And just in time b/c we need them now more than ever.

There’s also old Blur, Los Camps!, Stereolab, Neil, and Ricky Nelson (one of my mom’s go-to songs). Yo La Tengo appears in the list itself with a mid-90s classic, which means the Cure take the anchor spot.

This week’s header image and playlist cover is by @nicolameda on Ello.

All good stuff. Enjoy! And please share on your social network(s) of choice.

More soon.



It’s Friday, I’m in love…


Hey, guys.

Hold on, ugh.

: kicks office wall , twice :

OM is still tossing that ball. I’m gonna just assume that this call is with Jimmy Iovine, and LN will soon become the official music blog of Apple Music. Which…well. There would be a sellout convo. And my keep-it-pure/we-built-this-thing-dude position would pry lose. And that would be ok. The payout would be sweet, and I’m not against the idea of Cupertino swag.

Hold on, again.

: pm’s OM; asks, if that’s really Jimmy Iovine, get me a generation two watch to monitor fitness or something :

Anyway. Hey, hi. How are you? I feel like we never talk. Because we don’t? I post these weird three-hour playlists, and you listen or don’t, and weeks pass, and…and, yeah. We never talk.

Do you like these playlists? It’s ok if you don’t. Just say so. We (I) aim to please. This time, it’s a lot of rock. If you had an edgy boutique business of some sort, this would sound great on whatever bluetooth solution that you settled on.

OMF, that new Crystal Fairy song kills. I mean, really – a song called “Crystal Fairy” from an album called Crystal Fairy by a band called Crystal Fairy? That’s amazing. Beach Slang pretending to be Dramarama. A middle-period Billy Pumpkin song that I can’t get out of my head. New Spoon and the Courtneys. Old Stereolab. New the Orielles (whoa, nice debut single), Portugal. The Man, Los Campesinos!, Old 97’s, and Ryan frickin Adams. Oh, and the Pissed Jean’s track is super offensive, but funny. #irony

As always, have a great weekend. Enjoy the tunes. Or blow this off. Whatever. It’s just a vanity project, until OM gets off the phone. (I’m gonna be super pissed if he was only talking to his mom.)

Re: the header image…it’s from Ello, but I forgot to note the artist. So if you’re the artist, and you happen across this backwater WordPress post, hmu. I’ll edit social media and tell everyone that your stuff is amazing.

More soon.


It’s Friday, I’m in love…

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Hey, guys.

Back again with another playlist. LN has become basically a repository for the weeklies  that I make for my best friend. At some point (around the time that OM decides that real life isn’t as fun as pretend life as a music journalist), there might be more editorial content. For now, it’s another 45 tracks.

This time, let’s start with an oddity in the Eagles discography. (I’m an unapologetic E-fan.)  “In the City” was on The Long Run, but before that Joe Walsh recorded a slightly different, and better, version for The Warriors soundtrack. A formative movie for many guys my age, who grew up in the ’70s. In that vein, there’s some Steely Dan, Supertramp, Stevie, Sly, Curtis, and Marvin.

There’s also newness from Frank Ocean (whoa, so great), Future, Jens Lekman, Sylvan Esso, Bing & Ruth, and the Shins, as well as a nice Dylan cover from Whitney. And if you haven’t deep-dived into the Decemberists’ reissue of The Crane Wife, do that. It’s a classic, and “The Perfect Crime #1” is an outtake gem.

Have a great weekend!

More soon. It’ll pry be another playlist. OM is bouncing that ball against the wall, but I have a feeling he’s on a day-job call.


It’s Friday, I’m in love…

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Hey. Happy Friday, guys.

This week, new stuff from Tennis, The Shins, The New Pornographers, Spoon, Father John Misty, Japandroids, Priests, and Allison Crutchfield, not to mention a Julie Byrne interlude and some other songs. Fwiw, every LN playlist is extremely vetted for tip top quality and listenability. (Actually, that last part is fake news. I don’t really care about listenability for each track as much as how they fit together within the context of the playlist. So you might not like a few on here, but they make sense.)

Enjoy the 45 of 44, and a few days off.

More soon.


It’s Friday, I’m in love…


Hey, guys.

Some tech issues with last week’s reggae-ish playlist. I couldn’t get the header image into a Facebook post. Figured that out – it’s up on the f social network now, and the birdy one. Insta and Ello soon.

This week? Newness! Julie Byrne, Father John Misty (excited for that record), Fleet Foxes (remember them), Laura Marling (swoon), Tennis, Ride, Parquet Courts, Clark, Lorde (wait for it, it’s good after the intro), and Spoon. And Ryan Frickin Adams, who’s new thing is so sad and heavy, that I have to use a guilty-pleasure pass and give it an enthusiastic rec. But then I think the Boss’ Tunnel of Love is unappreciated.

Anyway. There’s other flotsam and jetsam-some old, some new, some bouncy even. A big poppy segment in the middle of this one.

Enjoy. And have a nice couple days off the grind.

More soon.


A Decade of Ulysses


My second child is named Ulysses for a few reasons. Ulysses from William Saroyan’s The Human Comedy. James Joyce’s Ulysses  (the greatest English language novel not titled Gravity’s Rainbow), the protagonist of which was a stand-in for the rightful King of Ithaca from Greek/Roman mythology, who busted his ass across several seas and several more obstacles just to get home to his family. And the name Otto was off the list because I worked with a guy named Otto.

Procreating for the first time, when it’s a conscious decision, is selfish. You and your partner think you’re so cool that you should make somebody who’s a literal embodiment of your awesome relationship. Love’s a part of it, I guess, but ego is a bigger part. And society is another part. People of a certain age just do this. It’s the next step in adult life.

And then the baby’s here, and everything is different. For me, it was better because my first baby was easy and smart, and talkative. I coasted on that for a few years, almost three. My brother and I are exactly three years apart in age, and growing up and growing older with him has been, and continues to be, incredibly important to me. So…

True story: I brought it up. I brought up a second kid. The timing was right, or anyway pretty common? My ex-wife probably would’ve been ok with an only child, and I didn’t think of things from her perspective – how hard the pregnancy was, how hard the birth experience was, how hard getting back to work was. And now it was time to hit the reset button. Admittedly, I could’ve and should’ve been more considerate. But there was a loop in my head that wouldn’t stop.

What about when we’re gone? His mother and I are gonna die, sooner or later. This beautiful and perfect person is just a toddler now, but he won’t be one day. He’ll be a grownup. And, at some point, he’s going to need an unconditional friend, who grew up with him and shared many of the same experiences. He’s going to need a backup for memories and stories, like my siblings have been for me. And he’s going to need a sidekick for funny stuff. And he’s going to need…gotdam…he’s going to need a person next to him at my funeral because the ONLY reason that I got through my mom dying too young was because my amazing brother and sister, whom I love so much, were there.

Uly is amazing. (That’s him, up top, last fall – completely powerful, pretty sure he vanquished some reeds or whatever.) He’s a decade old today. And he’s everything that I wanted to give his brother, including a greatest fan, and way more.

He’s smart, curious, funny, idiosyncratic, talkative. Weird, b/c he was such a silent baby. I read Leaves of Grass to him until he taught himself to roll over and eat the book. The Whitman didn’t sink in. His first word was “ET-AH,” which was his version of the cat’s name, Chester. But he didn’t talk much until well after one year. He listened. And then he babbled in completely incoherent sentences because he had heard alot and just knew how. He hasn’t stopped since, tbh. (My best friend would back me up on that.)

I’ve made him eight birthday cds – actual cds, buying tracks off iTunes and burning them. I blew that off last year (too expensive), but I made him a deal this year. If I do a kick-ass playlist on Spotify that you can hear in the car and on your iPod (and if I can save the $20-30 bucks and, instead, buy you another present), would you be ok with that?

“Yeah, Jasonic.” (He also calls me Daddiobro.)

I mean, what ten-year old kid doesn’t want a 3-hour Spotify playlist for an iPod that gets bogus ad-heavy Spotify, but only on WiFi? There are 55 tracks (5 + 5 = 10). Some of them, he picked; most of them, I picked. There’s alot of overlap with the IFIILO playlists from the past year. Enjoy anyway.

Happy 10th Birthday, Kidface. Love you lots.

More soon.