Part of my mellow writing mix for the week.
Cutsey band name aside, I like the laid back summer heat of this one.
The haunting track that ends Reading, Writing, and Arithmetic (1990). Melodious, introspective. I drifted off to sleep more than one night in high school to this album. The Sundays were the band I kept my radio tuned to the old Edge for, when I first discovered that music could define a moment in time. It was like I found out something new about the universe. I hadn’t, of course, but for an awkward 14 year old, making the transition from junior high to high school, The Sundays were the band that helped me define that transition, helped me shape my musical leanings for the next twenty+plus years.
“So, this playlist is a fiction. I mix time periods freely, the same way the music itself (finely mixed for me here by the great Chief Boima) mixes influences: propulsive rhythms, soukous-inflected guitars, coupé-décalé beats, Ghanaian flow, Afrobeat interludes, razor-sharp modern production, house, jazz, pop, rap, dancehall. This is a Lasgidi of the mind, representing a meld of many club nights in Lagos and alternate Lagoses through the past decade. It is a cauldron of that vertiginous self-confidence that anyone who knows any Nigerians knows well. It contains a nod towards a genealogy of the form, including some of the early hits of the genre. I’ve also included, for they ought to be included, some key recent moments from the Nigerian diaspora: folks like Wale and Nneka speak to this world, as well. This is music that has come a long and joyous way in a very short time. Dance to it—note its persistent tone of joy—then come back and listen to it.”
~Teju Cole, “One Night in Lasgidi”
Definitely on a Sundays kick this week.