I'm a ghost, livin' in a ghost town
Issue 52
I'm a ghost, livin' in a ghost town You can look for me, but I can't be found You can search for me, I had to go underground Life was so beautiful, then we all got locked down Feel like a ghost, livin' in a ghost town
— The Rolling Stones, “Livin’ In a Ghost Town”
I’ve listened to way more music this past month-and-change than I have since I was a college radio DJ for Ohio U’s ACRN 25 years ago (good god, was it that long ago?!). Whether it’s Hype Machine, AccuRadio, Soma.FM…I’ve listened to it. I even signed up for SiriusXM.
I got into this kick because I’m mostly living by myself during this quarantine. I share a house in New York City with two other people; for most of the quarantine, it’s just been my one housemate, but a new one is moving in this weekend to replace our last one, who fled the States for the safety of New Zealand (she was from there). I mostly keep to myself; I work from about 9-6 during the week, and if I didn’t have music playing, the lonesomeness would drive me ‘round the bend.
The music lulls me into thinking I’m not alone; some way into the quarantine, I found this illusion worked best if there was a DJ to break up the monotony of just listening to music, which is why I signed up for SiriusXM. I could, I suppose, listen to local radio, but I don’t want to hear any news while I work; it would distract me too much, and my work already forces me to work on COVID-19 related issues.
If you’ve read this far, hi: I’m Raf. This is the Miscellanies. I’m glad you’re reading this, and I hope you’ll stick around. If you haven’t signed up, you can right here:
I’ve wondered what our cultural and social response would be to all this death and disruption. I think one reason the 1918 flu pandemic (the last one we suffered through like this one) didn’t resonate more in our culture was because our culture was far different 100 years ago. Less confessional, less public, far more private, especially around death and suffering.
Add to that the fact that we’d just finished fighting World War I, and it makes more sense why the 1918 pandemic didn’t remain in the public consciousness. We launched into the Roaring Twenties, then into the Great Depression, then World War II.
Now? The pandemic’s resulted in a cataclysmic economic collapse, greater than the Great Depression; I suspect this pandemic, combined with the economic storm and our much more confessional culture, will linger in the public consciousness far longer.
You’re already starting to see this reflected in music. The lyrics I quoted above are from a new Rolling Stones song about the quarantine and pandemic. You can listen to an excerpt of the song - the first proper Stones studio single in four years - below:
It’s a rocking, loud tune, suitable if waves arms all this grows old on you like it is for me. If you’re looking for something more understated, but still related to the quarantine, may I present you with Twenty One Pilots’ “Level of Concern”?
This is a lovely song, full of heartache. It starts out like this:
Panic on the brain, world has gone insane
Things are starting to get heavy, mm
I can't help but think I haven't felt this way
Since I asked you to go steady
Wonderin', would you be, my little quarantine?
Or is this the way it ends?
'Cause I told you my level of concern
But you walked by like you never heard
And you could bring down my level of concern
Just need you to tell me we're alright, tell me we're okay
It’s been on steady rotation on the streaming stations I listen to every day; if you haven’t heard it, I hope it resonates with you. I’d be remiss if I didn’t leave you with with another Stones song, one that’s just as evocative of what we’re going through right now.
You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometimes
Well, you just might find
You get what you need
I love y’all. I know precious few are getting what we want; I hope we’re all getting what we need. As ever: if you need anything, or need to get something off your chest, or just want to talk, I’m here — just reply.
I miss y’all, more than you can know.