Day’s Plays Guest Post: Jason Diamond


[You can order Jason’s book here.]


Alice Coltrane, Radha-Krsna Nama Sankirtana (1977): I call this my “morning vibes” album and listen to it almost daily. I really love religious music, whether it’s gospel or old records of cantors singing in gigantic synagogues. There’s just a kind of beauty and purity you get when somebody is singing their praises to whatever they believe and I love that. Alice Coltrane was just on another level. This particular album just blends so much and takes you dancing through the cosmos and is a nice post-meditation album for me.


Drab City, Good Songs for Bad People (2020): When I was in my 20s I went through a heavy phase where I listened to a ton of Portishead and Stereolab and any haunting, beautiful film music that was or sounds like it could be from the ‘50s and ‘60s that I seem to be revisiting. So Krzysztof Komeda and stuff off of Kind of Blue, but also the Twin Peaks soundtrack. Drab City just sounds like a descent into night, like bad things are going to happen in the dark and the only thing that’s going to save you is daylight. It’s been helping me formulate this novel I’ve been playing around with.


Arthur Russell, Love Is Overtaking Me (2004): I’m a massive Arthur Russell fan, but I’ve somehow skipped over this one. I don’t know — I guess I just never thought “Gee, I want to listen to Russell’s country folk album,” but I also make a lot of dumb decisions. That was one of them. This is a really lovely summertime album, but it also shows just how incredibly diverse of an artist he was.


Unwound, Leaves Turn Inside You (2001): It’s funny, there are truly seasonal songs and albums, like I have a difficult time listening to the Beach Boys in the winter or will listen to “The Summer Ends” by American Football all the time towards the end of August. Leaves Turn Inside You isn’t a seasonal album, per se, but there’s just something about “leaves turn” in the album title that makes me think of fall. That, and I once took mushrooms and wandered around a forest listening to it and that was in late October, so I guess there’s some psychological psychedelic connection. The first few minutes of “We Invent You” … that feedback. Damn. It’s just too beautiful. I put it on after I heard Vern Rumsey had passed and I was sobbing by the time “Look a Ghost” started.


8Ball & MJG, Comin Out Hard (1993): I was thinking about growing up and making skate videos with my friends. I feel like homemade skate videos from the 1990s got pretty crazy and artsy if you had a friend that was looking to maybe learn a little more about basic editing. I definitely see skate video influence popping up more and more in unexpected places, but the best thing to me was always the soundtracks. My friends and I made a video once which features me throwing a Slurpee at some security cops that kicked us out of a skate spot we loved. The whole thing moved to “Armed Robbery” by 8Ball & MJG, and putting it on this playlist I’ve been playing around with made me revisit this album. It’s a classic.


Quicksand, Slip (1993): Another one that actually made it onto that skate video. I learned about Quicksand by skating to this album and my friend telling me “The dude was in Gorilla Biscuits.” For some reason I couldn’t wrap my teenage mind around that and figured he was just bullshitting me. Walter Schreifels is one of those guys like Steve Albini or Tim Green who I tend to put a lot of trust in terms of the bands they play in and the stuff they produce, but I think this album has aged especially well. There’s just something really comforting about this one, how certain parts sound like Fugazi and others remind me of You’d Prefer an Astronaut by Hum.

Day’s Plays Guest Post: Nicky Thomas


[You can hear Nicky’s music here.]


TV on the Radio, Return to Cookie Mountain: When the opening track of Return to Cookie Mountain kicked in on a recent drive to the woods I was overcome by a startling whoosh of emotion and longing for the time before. This album came out in 2006 and felt futuristic with its kaleidoscopic soundscapes and pulsating rhythms that build tension and release. Tunde Adebimpe and Kyp Malone’s vocals are filled with so much hope and pathos that I dare you to not cry when you hear David Bowie’s guest vocals in the mix on “Province”. What a pleasant surprise to discover that this album has held up to the test of time and risen to the challenge of now.


Linton Kwesi Johnson, Dread Beat an’ Blood: Linton Kwesi Johnson was recently honored with the PEN Pinter Prize which reminded me to revisit his music. While it’s easy to get lulled by the heavy bass and cooler than cool vocals there is so much more to this album and really all of LKJ’s work than just an easy breezy flow. This record is a timeless mirror on race dynamics, imperialism and violence. Just fill in “Margaret Thatcher’s on the go with the racist show” with you know who and the line is as true as ever today. LKJ once said that his poetry is just his way of seeing things. His lyrics speak as clearly to this moment in the United States as they did to 1978 England. Madness, madness, madness indeed.


Sunn O))), Life Metal: I’ll admit Sunn O))) is an acquired taste but Life Metal might just be their most accessible album. I feel instant calm when the guitars on the first track “Between Sleipner’s Breath” start. This record requires that you slow down and give it time. Greg Anderson, Stephen O’Malley and company’s wall of sound are in deft hands with Steve Albini’s meticulous recording ethic. This album is about listening for the subtle tonal dynamics and melodic shifts. It’s a collection of songs that remind me to pay attention to the subtle changes in life. Luckily, I got to see them live in the fall of 2019 and the power of that performance is still percolating in my core.


Savages, Adore Life: This record is the right mix of angst and edge. Adore Life, Savages second album was met with glowing critical acclaim and I would add that it too has stood the test of time — well, the four years since it was released which of course feels like 100,000 years ago. Simply put, this is music for screaming and crying into your pillow and don’t we all need a soundtrack for that right now.


The Ruts, Peel Session (1979): The Ruts are so loveable that I’ve nearly worn out their full length album so I reach for the Peel Session like a cozy comfort blanket. Starting with the snarl of “S.U.S. 1  and ending less than 15 minutes later with a breathless “Something That I Said,” the performance and production on the Peel Session are lively and intimate. They recorded two sessions, as The Ruts in 1979 and one as Ruts DC in 1980. All of them are fantastic. The late John Peel loved The Ruts and for that we should all be grateful.


Alice Coltrane, Journey in Satchidananda: For obvious reasons I’ve been thinking about escape a lot these days. I head to the coast as often as possible to be reminded that at least the waves and the endless expanse of the ocean is certain. This record gives me that same feeling.  Alice Coltrane with Pharoah Sanders, Cecil McBee, Charlie Haden, and Rashied Ali have been taking me on journeys of the astral plane for decades now. Each listen offers a new understanding of how this record is begging the listener to move into an Afro-futuristic world where the imagination is revered and there is room to breathe. It gives me hope that someday we will get out of this mess and move into the beyond.


  1. This is the studio version, not the Peel Session version of “S.U.S.”