The Living Music List #32: On Living in "Manual Mode"
Revisiting the topic of lost childhood and analyzing the weight of our adult minds
Currently listening to: Everything just feels DIFFERENT by OnceFaded (YouTube video, no music)
Don’t let the mindless Call of Duty footage fool you—this video speaks on something seemingly universal and really resonated with me. My response to it in today’s reflection…
Reflection
Hello, friend.
Do you ever feel like you’re living in manual mode? Compare it to the idea of autopilot—an hour or two goes by and you were so deeply embedded in an enjoyable activity that you hadn’t even considered the passage of time or spent any of it assessing and planning for the effects of your actions.
Think about it in the context of breathing: normally, we breathe and don’t notice the action of breathing. Sometimes, during moments of anxiety, we can become hyper-aware of our breathing and start to question just how much control we have over this automatic process. We start to feel like we’re breathing in manual mode.
Living in manual mode is like that.
Most of the time, we don’t or can’t stop to realize just how worn out we feel from this state. That almost seems counterintuitive and more akin to autopilot, but there’s still a background awareness sapping us of our energy all the time. The cogs are actively turning inside the machine. We are working overtime to keep our lives in order and every experience we expect to encounter bears prerequisite analysis.
There was so much hidden magic in the mindlessness of childhood that the mindfulness of adulthood can feel like a curse. Back then, we just lived. Minutes felt like hours. A year felt like ten. We begged our parents to let us go sleepover at a friend’s house on a Friday because we held such excitement for the presence of our friends and a night without a plan.
Now, we are overly considerate of our future wellbeing. We are overly considerate of the wellbeing of others. We worry and grapple with problems far greater than those affecting only our little lives. A Friday night without a plan feels like a light at the end of the tunnel on Friday morning. Then, we reach the light and shut our eyes to it to get some rest, before blinking them open again to see the start of another dark tunnel. Where the hell did the weekend go?
In short, we are now less selfish but more concerned. We are both more and less engaged. We constantly prioritize because we are frequently overwhelmed by the knowledge of how much we desire to accomplish but never will.
As the video creator mentioned, we miss the homies. Adult friendships are one of the most challenging things for me. I used to feel like such a social person who thrived on the energy of my friends and wanted to be around them for the majority of my days. Now, the opposite is the case, where I long for them but often feel reluctant to reach out. I work from home and spend so much time alone in my apartment that I feel more like a caterpillar who’s refusing to leave its cocoon rather than my social butterfly self of yore.
Even when I do yearn for socializing, the conversation quickly becomes “well, which weekend are you free?” and leads to picking a date a month or two away. Somehow, we always have plans and yet it feels like we never just hang out. Many of my remaining friends (who aren’t many) live far enough that its hard to fathom making the trip to see them unless a whole weekend has been set aside. The distance doesn’t make much difference, though—even friends who are an easy 15-minute drive away can be set aside due to the false anticipation of exhaustion.
I think the biggest issue lies in our awareness. We’re so fucking aware of everything as adults. We feel the weight of responsibility on our shoulders all the time, whether its taking care of our partners or checking up on our parents or wondering what we can possibly do to change the political landscape impacting our lives in seemingly unchangeable ways. Imagine throwing a kid or two on top of that?
Back in issue #9 of the newsletter, I wrote about coming of age and the death of our innocence. I mentioned how our middle-school years (ages 11-14) were especially chaotic and led to a lot of increased awareness about the world and ourselves:
As we were flooded with new-found consciousness about the world, about our bodies, about our parent’s humanity and problems, we had no choice but to release some of it. To seek validation from others. To feel less alone, because when this first occurs, we felt like we were the only ones making these realizations. Thank god we eventually figured out that we all went through this shit.
Ten, fifteen, twenty years on from that time, we’re well into living with that amount of awareness and we realize that it only increases. We struggle for meaning. We still attempt to express ourselves however we can, but we often muzzle or filter ourselves even more as we predict the responses of others. All the while, we’re “living to survive” as the video creator says. We work our asses off to gain the means of taking a break, then we don’t. We work for the weekend, then recover from the week.
We are missing the magic. We remember the feeling we used to have and yearn so deeply to reclaim it… but we can’t. It feels unreachable now, like we crossed a threshhold in time and space that we can only cross once.
I realize this isn’t everyone’s experience. I use “we” in hopes that there are others out there who feel this way. Clearly, the video creator and I have an understanding. I have a few friends who I deeply admire for how committed they are to maintaining their social lives and still live with friends, still scrape by financially because they care less about money and securing their financial future than living in the moment. They push away their exhaustion and draw energy from long nights of let’s just see what happens.
How can I strike a balance between let’s just see what happens and manual mode? This seems to be my current conundrum. I know for a fact I can’t live like some of my friends and just say fuck it more often than not. But I also can’t go on thinking the words breathe in, breathe out. There must be a happy medium.
What do you think, friend? Or I guess, let’s skip the thinking. What do you want to do today?
Music Recommendations
Hello again, friend.
Thank you for reading today’s post. I hope you enjoyed the reflection—and I hope you find some music in today’s lists that will take you out of your head for a little while.
Making up for last week’s absence, I have a slightly longer list than usual to include some of last week’s big releases. Seriously, so many promising releases in both lists from artists big and small.
In the ambient list, you’ll find a handful of huge compilations that are fundraisers for those affected by the wildfires in southern California. There are also new ambient records out from artists like Orchid Mantis, Joachim Spieth, Warmth, and more.
In the all genres list, there are new records out from artists like FKA twigs, Ela Minus, The Weeknd, tunng, and more.
Happy listening.
The Living Music List—Ambient
Note: All of the below ambient projects are available on Bandcamp. Bolding some releases to highlight charity fundraisers.
Staying: Leaving Records Aid to Artists Impacted by the Los Angeles Wildfires by Various Artists (compilation / various ambient subgenres with some electronic and other experimental tracks) [Leaving Records / Bandcamp]
{Notes: 98 tracks by a huge variety of artists, with proceeds benefit artists affected by the wildfires in southern California}
For LA Vol. 1 by Various Artists (compilation / various ambient subgenres with some electronic and contemporary classical tracks) [Independent / Bandcamp] {Notes: 33 tracks independently compiled and released by Hollie and Keith Kenniff, with proceeds benefitting the charities We Are Moving The Needle and Give Directly in their support of the survivors of wildfires in southern California. Per the Bandcamp release: “In a few weeks, Nettwerk will expand this effort with a full compilation, available on Bandcamp and other digital platforms. All proceeds—minus a 5% admin fee—will go to LA fire relief efforts. While it’s unconventional to self-release first and later transition to a label, we believe this approach will allow us to maximize donations, leveraging the support and infrastructure of a major label team.”}
For LA Vol. 2 by Various Artists (compilation / various ambient subgenres with some electronic and contemporary classical tracks) [Independent / Bandcamp]
{Notes: 32 tracks with same purpose and origin as #2. Includes some unreleased tracks from Ryuichi Sakamoto!}
Passed Winter by Various Artists (compilation / variety of ambient subgenres, but all tracks have a wintry feel) [Passed Recordings / Bandcamp]
{Notes: 80% of any sales will be donated to Doctors Without Borders. Features several artists who are friends of the newsletter! :-)}
rain tape by Orchid Mantis (EP / lofi, ambient guitar) [Independent / Bandcamp]
Tales of Introspection by ASC (album / electroacoustic, drone) [quiet details / Bandcamp]
Fragments by Joachim Spieth & Warmth (album / drone, dark ambient) [Affin / Bandcamp]
Revenant by Warmth (album / drone, space) [ARCHIVES / Bandcamp]
Monochrome by SVLBRD (album / drone) [ARCHIVES / Bandcamp]
Lucid Dreams by Chihei Hatakeyama (album / melodic, drone, ambient guitar) [White Paddy Mountain via First Terrace Records / Bandcamp]
Alpine holiday camp by Modernist (EP / experimental, musique concrete) [Language Instinct / Bandcamp]
Acadia by Endogens (EP / electroacoustic, experimental) [Independent / Bandcamp]
everything will be lost by leaving_forever (album / electroacoustic, melodic) [Independent / Bandcamp]
II by willowlaun (album / electroacoustic, field recordings) [Independent / Bandcamp]
Vain Shapes and Intricate Parapets (Remastered) by Celer & Hakobune (album / meditative, minimalist) [Independent / Bandcamp]
Even The Horizon Knows Its Bounds by Lawrence English (album / dark ambient, ambient piano) [Room40 / Bandcamp]
The Living Music List—All Genres
Note: All of the below projects are available on major streaming services.
EUSEXUA by FKA twigs (album / electronic)
DÍA by Ela Minus (album / electronic)
Hurry Up Tomorrow by The Weeknd (album / R&B/soul)
Renascence by Cymande (album / R&B/soul)
Slowly, It Dawns by Victoria Canal (album / pop, singer/songwriter)
Moveys (Deluxe Edition) by Slow Pulp (album / indie rock)
Black’!Antique by Pink Siifu (album / hip-hop/rap)
The Bad Fire by Mogwai (album / indie rock)
Raw Blue by Whirr (album / alternative)
NGL by JoJo (album / pop)
Honeybee by BØRNS (album / pop)
Yonder: Book II by Jacob Banks (EP / R&B/soul)
Love You All Over Again by Tunng (album / experimental folk)
The Summer Portraits by Ludovico Einaudi (album / classical crossover)
The Rot by bodyimage (album / alternative)
LOWER by Benjamin Booker (album / alternative)
You & i are Earth by Anna B Savage (album / indie folk)
Everyone Says Hi by Everyone Says Hi (album / indie rock)
honey from a winter stone by Ambrose Akinmusire (album / jazz)
Star Child by Jeff Mills (EP / electronic)
The World of Hans Zimmer - Part II: A New Dimension by Hans Zimmer, Odessa Orchestra & Friends & Gavin Greenaway (compilation / film scores, classical crossover)
Companion (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack) by Hrishikesh Hirway (album / film score/soundtrack)
Presence (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack) by Zack Ryan (album / film score/soundtrack)
Human Drift by TUKAN (album / electronica)
Birna by Wardruna (album / worldwide)
The Press Box
No full features in this week’s Press Box but one forthcoming record I want to highlight, courtesy of our friend Karen Vogt at Black Knoll Editions.
Black Dahlia by Markus Guentner [AFFIN] - Out February 7, 2025
“A meticulously crafted collection of experimental electronic and ambient soundscapes. The monochrome album artwork, designed by Guentner, reflects a fusion of the darker elements of the natural world with technology. Black Dahlia marks a bold departure for Guentner… each track serves as a sonic vignette, weaving intricate layers of pulsating rhythms, haunting melodies, and ethereal atmospheres.”
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That’s all for this week’s issue. Thank you for reading. Until next time.
Your friend,
Melted Form
Remember to listen to the hum, buzz, & hiss of the world around you—there is music to be heard there.
Read the previous issue of The Living Music List:
Afterword—Let’s Get In Touch
Are you an artist, a label owner, or a member of the press? Want to share an in-depth feature of your upcoming release, an advertisement, or a guest post for a future Hum, Buzz, & Hiss issue? Get in touch with me at meltedform@gmail.com. As always, I would love to hear and recommend your music, especially if it’s new and ambient/electronic/experimental.
