Jam Journal: When words fail, playlists help

I have over a hundred playlists, so you could say I enjoy listening to music. I, of course, have my favorites, but none of them felt like the right thing to talk about when considering my focus for this column. 

There are too many options and trains of consciousness to choose from. As I wrap up the last month of my college career, there are too many things I am feeling. I ran through artists that have stuck with me throughout my life — Lauryn Hill, Lana Del Rey, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs — and considered talking about Bay Area legends. I’m going to have to talk about Kehlani at some point.

But still, nothing felt like the right thing to say. 

I am not here in my retired “Sex, Drugs & Spotify” columnist fashion, but I am here with my heart on my sleeve and guts spewed about nonetheless. Words are typically my solace. But, the most drastic of times — like when you have your whole life in front of you with no idea of your next move — call for inspiration. 

There are times when we need something else to speak for us because we can’t muster up the courage. It’s hard to tell someone how you feel when you don’t even understand it yourself. 

So, how do you capture the voice of a person who stammers and vents, follows tangents, does not seem to know their own mind or their next step, and loves but does not always appear to like themself? 

You make a playlist. 

One of my favorite TV shows of all time is a quick 10 episode remake of the 2000s movie, “High Fidelity,” starring Zoë Kravitz. Though it was ultimately canceled to my bewilderment, that single season remains one of my favorite shows to revisit. 

The series captures the delicate and artful practice of making a playlist and understands that they speak more eloquently than any edited article ever could. 

“It’s like writing a love letter, but better, in a way. You get to say what you want to say, without actually saying it,” Kravitz tells the camera in the first episode. 

For someone who struggles with verbal sentiments and hardly ever musters the courage to relish in the ooey-gooeyness of relationships, I really understood this. To not have to find the right order of words but still share all that is running through my head by stringing together a couple of songs has saved me more times than I can count. 

I’ve spent hours on my bedroom floor in the middle of the night parsing through albums and songs trying to find the one that fits. Good things take time. 

The best ones tell a complicated story in a concise manner. They capture a moment and make it everlasting and able to be revisited. (I spend a lot of time in the past, transcending myself to moments I miss or with people I mourn). They’re versatile and vivid. 

My “Dana Coffee Grind” playlist was one of my first favorites, and it was specifically to be enjoyed with one of my best friends in high school as we studied in the Dana Street Roasting Company cafe. 

My “eyes breath hips” one transports me to one of the best nights of my life at the concert I went to for Halloween one year. “junebug” reflects the time when I last felt the most inspired and reignites a spark within me every time I listen. My “i love February” one from last year is my best one and remains something of which I’m proud. 

The playlist I listen to the most, though, wasn’t even curated by me; it was a gift. 

Making and sharing playlists is one of the most intimate exchanges we have in this day and age. It brings you into someone’s mind and fits you into their skin and holds you tight when you’re far away. It ties you to one another and serves as a beautiful way to connect. 

I’ve fallen in love over curated playlists. I’ve found myself in curated playlists.

They say that journaling lets you work out your thoughts and figure out what you’re truly feeling. This has never worked for me. My “journaling” has always presented as playlist curation, and I’d say it suffices. 

Using someone else’s poetry to help me figure out what I resonate with has made a lot more sense than coming up with words I don’t even know yet. It speaks for me when I can’t, and, ironically, that is a feat I struggle with constantly. 

There is very little that I know of as per the future. But, there is far less that I am worried about because I know that a curated playlist somewhere will help me along the way. 

“Jam Journal” is a rotating column featuring a new Daily Trojan editor in each installment commenting on the music most important to them.