What We Are Listening To: MC’s New York Office #19

Model/Actriz on Colbert that has me wishing Cole would kiss me on the lips, a new song and the announcement of a new album from my favorite (favorite and not only because I’m in love) Los Angeles band, Automatic, and nightmare sounds of tear gas cannisters exploding on my face soundtrack this, the third week of my summer in Los Angeles.

I’m sitting in the living room of a house in Studio City - a house so beyond my means in quality and stature that I surely don’t belong, but luckily, what I lack in material wealth, I make up for in good friends with material wealth - watching this Roomba make its way around the carpet, bumping into walls and table legs like a fucking moron, and I see myself in that tiny robot making an exceedingly large amount of errors but endeavoring nonetheless to correct each and every one in pursuit of its singular purpose: to tidy.

I am a bit of a moron lately, bouncing into walls and furniture trying ceaselessly to correct myself before I make some sort of fatal error. What mistakes have I made lately? I came to LA, I let go of someone important to me, I didn’t pack enough medication, I fail to this day to turn to stone, and to my shame, no matter how much time and pressure I commit to myself, I am unable to walk through walls.

Much of last week was spent licking my wounds - literal rubber bullet and club wounds inflicted upon me and my friends by police, as well as metaphorical - and the week before that was spent shooting a short film about karaoke singers starring Jake Anderson, Amin Sharif, and Sam Muller, among some other notables. What did I listen to in that time? A lot of Iggy Pop; Nightclubbing to be specific. What else? Jake loves this song by Kid Rock and Cheryl Crow, but I spared you its inclusion in this playlist. Additionally, my musical addiction to Kate Bollinger goes strong (find her interview here), and my addiction to Model/Actriz is reignited with the release of their new album. Like a sad, pathetic little fanboy, I have also been listening to the new Automatic single since it’s release two days ago and have been excited by the direction that the band is choosing to take (I’m told there will be a flute on the album, though this is unconfirmed).

How late am I to The Maria’s? And how much does it really matter at the end of the day so long as I got there? I am here and I am flattered. It is music that makes me blush - music that sounds like sunset’s in Los Angeles in the same way that I’ve found Weyes Blood or LA Witch to sound, only from a different part of town; a part of town that smells more like eucalyptus, perhaps.

Nate’s album under This Is Lorelei came out last year but I haven’t stopped listening to I’m All Fucked Up and don’t plan to, either. It sounds to me distinctly like New York City at night and like someone wanting to come home, and I do, I really do, but I can’t. I am committed to a summer in Los Angeles house sitting and working and writing and seeking a life in the sun that I’m told is all the rage.