If you’re seeing this post before June is officially over, that means I’m technically caught up on these. If you’re seeing this and July is almost over, it means that I kept getting really sad writing the last section and procrastinated finishing it. Hello from July.

Writing this almost 30 days after the fact: May was a weird month. A liminal stretch of time I spent dreading and agonizing over things I would have to do, eventually. I’m sure there were things I did, people I talked to, progress that was made, but I couldn’t tell you what for certain. I think I found a couple moments to appreciate where I was at, though.

This is clear in the music that I picked out. In between all the songs about being anxious, or despondent, or going through the motions, there are a few pockets of what seems to be genuine appreciation and happiness. Maybe there is bliss to be found in not knowing. My small picture looks good, but the big picture still needs work.

Link to playlist.

Allegedly, this song is about Courtney Love. Generally, this song is about feeling inadequate. Personally, this song is about all the ways you can feel othered and put off when you’re a trans woman.

I want to elaborate on that, but I also don’t. I’ll just say that sometimes I notice us making ourselves smaller, taking up as little space as possible, not because of the potential danger but simply because of the unwelcome attention that may come.

For the “bad” Jawbreaker album, Dear You sure has some great songs.

This track seems almost precognitively self-aware of how the album was going to be received and doesn’t care. Oblique references to the cost of the record, and lines implying it doesn’t mean anything. You can’t fire me, I quit!

I want to play a game with you, dear reader. I want you to listen to the voice of the lead singer of this band and try and guess which city you think they’re from. Go ahead, do it now. Don’t read ahead until you have a clear guess picked out in your head. Ready? Still not ready, that’s okay. What about now? You got one? Ok.

They’re from Manchester.

When I first heard this EP (which I love by the way), I would have put money on this band being based in LA. Maybe it’s the band name, maybe it’s the way the singer is doing something halfway resembling a Will Toledo impression (listen to “Can’t See” to really hear what I mean), but regardless, I was certain that would’ve been the case. But nope. British.

Underrated 80s post-punk realness. Much has been said recently about the current cultural need to seem nonchalant. Chalk me up as one of those people who thinks it’s a net loss. Making things and being passionate is not cool. And that’s good! I like it that way!

This song and album caught me completely off guard in May and took my heart by storm. The pure joy of creativity is on display in full here, and it’s infectious. It has one of my favorite qualities that music can: it sounds like something you and your friends could make in your bedroom, but it’s really, really good.

Based on a (probably) true story!

Yes, on the surface, the story that inspire this song is a funny tale derived from the more unhinged part of Charlie Sheen’s personal life, and because of that it’s also a little sad, if you know what it was a symptom of. But I also think that it’s a little bit sweet that Charlie thought he was uncovering something? Idk, I guess that if I were a torture victim it would be nice to know that Charlie Sheen would be out there trying to get to the bottom of it all.

Anyway, The Mountain Goats manage to take all this and turn it into an inspiring anthem of moral fiber, which is also equal parts funny, sad, and a little beautiful.

Even at my ripe age of 25, there was still a Simon & Garfunkel song I had never heard. And it’s a good one! I would often listen to this on my hour-long commute home from work. The traveling salesmen’s blues becoming my own for two minutes and thirty-seven minutes. The harmonies are crisp, the lyricism witty, and the tune jaunty. What more could I ask for?

Sometimes, when we feel lonely, we try to convince ourselves that we prefer it that way. I think it’s a defense mechanism to try and avoid feeling that absence as heavily. If we act like we don’t want people around us, maybe it will become true, and that silence won’t hurt as bad. I think that if you investigated, you’d find that the most misanthropic people are also often the most in need of companionship.

That doesn’t make them any less noxious to be around though.

Further proof that the Kinks are extremely underrated. You’re not wiser just because you’re older.

May was also my two year wedding anniversary to my beautiful wife. There’s a lot I could say, but I’ll keep it simple. I like that the dinner being made in the first verse sounds a lot like the dinners my wife and I make together. And I like that the titular love story of this song seems to reflect the aspect of relationships I find the most awe-inspiring: that they can be made up of a million small, seemingly unrelated feelings and moments and memories, which you stack up on top of one another without a clear plan or destination, like stream of consciousness. But if you do it right, and you work together, you can rearrange and reevaluate the pieces as you go, and that’s what it means to build a life together.

My favorite album from last year. (I think I talked about that here at some point? I can’t remember. I drafted a top ten albums list for 2025 but then I didn’t finish it in time to post it.) I keep coming back to it and having a different favorite track and this was the one on my mind the most in May.

Another one that was in heavy rotation because of my anniversary. This song means something very specific to me, which only really makes sense between the two of us and I won’t spell out here. If you know us well you might be able to figure it out.

A song about new love seemed appropriate for spring. This one just makes me happy and keeps me groovin’. It sounds like if Matty Healy was hydrated.

Kids, this is basically Car Seat Headrest for your parents.

Parents, this is basically Bruce Springsteen for your kids.

Kids and parents, this is… Kurt Cobain for your great grandpa?

Plastic Cough, the album this comes from, was one I listened to a lot in high school, which I believe was around the time it was first released.¹ I had forgotten about it in the intervening years, until just recently. Something about returning to it now, as a 25-year-old (versus a 16-year-old, which we all know are STUPID and SHALLOW and unable to have valid thoughts about art), revealed a depth to it I had previously not explored. My love of this album clearly influenced a lot of my taste today, but rediscovering it felt like reconnecting with a long-lost friend.

Guys, you’re never gonna believe this, but Nevermind is actually a really good album.

I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t a little tired of having to answer the question “What have you been up to recently?” with “Work.” Not only does it kill any conversation, but it also makes my well-meaning friends feel awkward a little bad for me. Which can be fun sometimes because you get that sweet, sweet pity, but not when you’re trying to make your life sound interesting and fulfilling.

I think it’s easy to get caught in that metaphorical undertow of not doing anything because you’re tired from work and then running out of time to do anything because by the time you’re a little recharged you have to work again. I don’t have any suggestions to escape this. Well, at least no suggestions that won’t get me put on yet another list for “inciting class-based violence”.

Seriously, this is the kind of song you write when you’ve been living in L.A. for a year and are starting to get depressed about it. It sounds like when those indie folk boys in the 90s were riffing on old traditional American folk songs. You’re telling me this is about Manchester???

Regardless, it’s a very beautiful song. It captures a very specific feeling I don’t have a word for. Like when you wake up way earlier than you meant to but don’t feel tired, so you just soak in the world while everyone else is still asleep. A private moment of quiet.

I’ll do my best not to end this one on a somber note, but this was in heavy rotation for me during May because of the killing of Juniper Blessing that took place in Seattle on May 10th. The seemingly random act of horrific violence sent shockwaves through much of the trans community, and to be honest: absolutely emotionally devastated me.

Hearing all the stories from Juniper’s friends and acquaintances in the wake of her murder, painted a picture of someone who was nothing but a bright human being, a force for good and positivity in her community. They described someone who was talented and passionate and just wanted to live a beautiful, regular life — and had that stolen from her. The unfairness of the whole thing shook me to my core. Someone who knew nothing about her decided, with nothing but blind and unearned hatred as justification, to take everything from her. She was so young, close in age to my younger siblings. All I could think about was how scared she must have been when it happened.

As the news spread, a video of Juniper performing this song with her school choir started to circulate online. The lyrics took on a new meaning for me, and I imagine many others. Or maybe it was what the song always meant, and it just opened my eyes to it.

The sad truth is, that for my trans brothers and especially my trans sisters, this sort of violence is something we have to contend with every time we step outside. There is a chance that you go out into the world and encounter violent, cruel, and illogical hatred. It shouldn’t be so, but it is. In this present time, trans people are being vilified and scrutinized as part of a nonsensical culture war that really has nothing to do with us.

And we don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve it. Juniper didn’t deserve it, and you, reading this, you don’t deserve it either. I have a pin on my backpack that reads:

I DESERVE • LOVE • TO BE TRUSTED• SEXUAL PLEASURE • FRIENDSHIP • HAPPINESS • FREEDOM • RESPECT

I found it as part of a collection from an LGBT history website. I wear it with pride, and as a reminder of the kind of world I’d like to belong to. We deserve to live in a world where we can be fulfilled and happy as our truest selves without fear of ostracization, demonization, or retribution. Juniper belonged in this kind of world. Somewhere she could feel free. Where she wouldn’t have to be afraid of something like this even happening. Ever.

When people die, you hear a lot of people say, “They’re in a better place now.” And even if it’s true, it’s bullshit. Here should have been a better place. If this place were better, she wouldn’t be gone.

Juniper was someone who was out and living life as herself proudly. She most likely knew that something like that attack could happen to her, just like the rest of us know, but she did it anyway. I’m inspired by her. And I promise that I am going to do my best to soak up every day I possibly can, to go out and experience life, and live freely, and try and build a better world where others can live freely too. Because it’s what Juniper deserved. And it’s what we all deserve.

And maybe somewhere I’ll plant some wildflowers.

Albums I liked this month:

“Only God Was Above Us” by Vampire Weekend, “Renny Conti” by Renny Conti, “The Velvet Underground & Rowan” by Worldpeace DMT & Rowan Please, “So Much Country ‘Till We Get There” by Westside Cowboy, “Nevermind” by Nirvana, “re:” by tsubi club, “fawn” by OK Cool, “Ambiguous Desire” by Arlo Parks, “Whole World As Vigil” by Lauren Auder, “Plastic Cough” by Great Grandpa