Author Archives: Scott

On February 19, Netflix’s The Chef Show returned for its third volume. It’s a balm for my weary soul in these dark times.

For the uninitiated, the show is basically just chef Roy Choi and writer-director-actor Jon Favreau nerding out about cooking and food. It combines four of my favorite things in the world: food culture, curiosity, Jon Favreau, and the chance to see people do things they love and are very, very good at.

Favreau met chef Choi at the wrap party for one of the Iron Man films when Kogi, Choi’s food truck, catered the event. At the time, Favreau was in early pre-production on Chef (a movie that would go on to become one of my favorite 100 films of the decade). After talking about the project, Choi wound up serving as a hands-on consultant. He created the recipes for the movie, and taught Favreau the skills he needed to look like an actual chef — as opposed to far too many cooking movies, where an actor appears to have just picked up a knife for the first time in their lives right before filming started. The result is possibly the most authentic food industry movie ever.

Choi’s passion, craft, and skill as a teacher helped create a film full of delightful food porn, with Favreau displaying an impressive level of competence in the film’s cooking scenes. The extent of Choi’s involvement is evident in Chef‘s mid-credits scene, which is real footage of Choi teaching Favreau to make the world’s most impressive-looking grilled cheese sandwich.

The two remained friends after press for the movie was done, but they no longer had an excuse to cook together. Favreau had no desire to write and direct a sequel to Chef, so he came up with a better plan for the two to get back in the kitchen. [Side note: he made the right call concerning Chef 2. Chef is great just as it is, and it’s hard to imagine a sequel that didn’t feel forced at best, or ruin part of the charm of the original at worst.]

Favs decided to start making food with Choi again, and bring cameras along for the ride, just in case. As he told Eater: “At first I just got cameras and filmed us cooking in different environments with different people. It was done over the course of three years, and then I would take the footage and just start working on it. I didn’t know if I was going to pitch it somewhere. And the next thing you know, I ended up finishing it, just trusting that in this day and age, we‘d find a good partner. We ended up doing enough episodes to actually deliver a season, and it turned into a Netflix show. They loved the authenticity of it, they loved the passion.”

And thus, The Chef Show was born, wherein Choi and Favreau lead viewers and various celebrity guests on an odyssey into the glorious world of food. They guide us through the preparation of various dishes, explain different techniques, and take us into the kitchens of some of the best and most interesting chefs in the game. Favreau’s already impressive food knowledge and kitchen/knife skills, as seen in Chef, have grown even more impressive in the years since. The man can cook, like, for real. At this point, he could easily work as a professional chef.

I love watching people do something they are great at; even better when they are deeply passionate about it; better still when that thing involves amazing food. The Chef Show delivers all of that in spades.

Choi and Favreau’s excitement about what they’re doing is contagious. Their rapport is delightful, and their deep dive into the details and minutia of cooking is crack to me. I’m alternately laughing out loud and smiling at the goddamned beauty of it all. This isn’t shiny, over-produced, reality show nonsense. This is just two dudes who love cooking, and each other, geeking out about eating and preparing food.

I’ve loved Favreau ever since my friends and I watched Swingers once a week in college, but I quickly fell in love with chef Choi as well. He is so delightfully curious and creative. His brain doesn’t turn off when it comes to cooking. If he’s around random ingredients, he’s immediately improvising ways to use what’s on hand to make something special. His on the fly process makes perfect sense for a guy whose career took off in a food truck.

Watching his brain work is really fun. It’s rare to find people as good at anything as he is at what he does. His personality in the kitchen is a unique mirepoix of traits: an obsessive attention to cleanliness and organization, impeccable skill as a chef, and an amazing openness to improvisation, collaboration, and creativity in the moment. Season that with a zen-like joy for the process of food prep and cooking, and you have Roy Choi. With that as the base for everything he makes, it’s easy to see why Kogi became internationally renowned, and why chef Choi is creating a burgeoning restaurant empire.

“It was a joy to watch,” is an overused cliche, but in this case, joy is the only way to describe what I feel when I’m watching The Chef Show. I love every minute, and can’t wait for volume four.

Okay, okay, okay. I know the end of February is way too late to get around to sharing my favorite 100 films of the decade. It’s been at least two full months since most lists of this sort were published. However, counterpoint… Yeah, I don’t actually have a counterpoint. I just wanted to make this list, so I did.

It’s so late because I wasn’t intending to compile a list like this at all. But, that was before I started watching an unreasonable number of YouTube supercuts and video lists, which left me itching to compile a list of my own. That’s right around the time friends started asking me for a list like this, and at that point, the outcome was inevitable. If I’d been writing RtM as consistently as I once did, this list would have been a given. thanks to the folks who nudged me in the right direction.

All that to say that I threw convention to the wind and compiled this very late list of my 100 favorite films of the 2010s.

Important note: The order is randomized. There is absolutely no meaning in the numbers.

Fun stats:

Actors: Michael Keaton makes the list 4 times; Margot Robbie, the Gos, Bradley Cooper, and Leo show up five times; Chris Evans and Mark Ruffalo show up 6 times each; ScarJo shows up seven times; and Samuel L. Jackson takes the crown with eight appearances.

Directors: Jordan Peele, Martin Scorsese, Wes Anderson, Damien Chazelle, Denis Villeneuve, Ryan Coogler, Joss Whedon, and Christopher Nolan all showed up twice; Edgar Wright and Tarantino have three films each; and I included five Taika movies!! All hail the King. That means I included every movie Peele, Wright, Tarantino, and Taika directed in the 2010s.

Favorite films by year: 10 from 2010, 11 from 2011, 9 from 2012, 5 from 2013, 17(!) from 2014, 9 from 2015, 9 from 2016, 13 from 2017, 6 from 2018, 11 from 2019.

Other random stats: Marvel movies = 9 — Animated movies = 5 — Movies with aliens = 8 — Live action movies with a CGI main cast member = 10(!) — Foreign films = 19 — Documentaries = 4. Films featuring the dead/undead = 3.5. Only 29 included primary cast members who weren’t straight white characters. Only 20 included a woman as a primary protagonist. Only 26 were written or directed by someone who wasn’t a white dude (a number that was tilted significantly by Taika Waititi being on here 5 times).

Anyway, without further ado, here’s the list! There’s more commentary at the end of the list. Enjoy!

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1. Moonlight

2. Drive

3. Coco

4. Grand Budapest Hotel

5. Django Unchained

6. La La Land

7. What We Do in the Shadows

8. Me and Earl and the Dying Girl

9. Attack the Block

10. A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night

11. Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse

12. Arrival

13. Call Me By Your Name

14. The Tree of Life

15. Guardians of the Galaxy

16. Spotlight

17. Hunt for the Wilderpeople

18. Chef

19. It Follows

20. The Farewell

21. Whiplash

22. Baby Driver

23. Beasts of the Southern Wild

24. The Nice Guys

25. Senna

26. Moonrise Kingdom

27. The Guilty

28. Mad Max: Fury Road

29 & 30. Paddington 1 and 2

31. Creed

32. A Star is Born

33. Before Midnight

34. Toy Story 3

35. Jojo Rabbit

36. Take Shelter

37. Inception

38. Thor: Ragnarok

39. Mud

40. The Babadook

41. Knives Out

42. Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance)

43. Housebound

44. Snabba Cash

45. Her

46. The Interrupters

47. Eighth Grade

48. Scott Pilgrim vs. the World

49. Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood

50. Boy

51. Headhunters

52. Dunkirk

53. Parasite

54 & 55. Spider-Man: Homecoming & Far From Home

56. The Good, the Bad, the Weird

57. Marriage Story

58. Calvary

59. Inside Out

60. Get Out

61. The Cabin in the Woods

62, 63, & 64. Rise of, Dawn of, and War for the Planet of the Apes

65. Hanna

66. Little Women

67. Avengers

68. The Intouchables

69. Silver Linings Playbook

70. Shutter Island

71. I, Tonya

72. Swiss Army Man

73. The Trip

74. Kubo and the Two Strings

75. The Big Short

76. Us

77. Shame

78. The Raid 2: Berendal

79. The One I Love

80. The Hateful Eight

81. About Time

82. The Invitation

83. Brooklyn Castle

84. I Am Not Your Negro

85, 86, & 87. John Wick: Chapters 1-3

88. Dope

89. Skyfall

90. Seven Psychopaths

91. Black Panther

92. The Florida Project

93. The World’s End

94. Hell or High Water

95. Blade Runner: 2049

96. The Wolf of Wall Street

97. The Social Network

98. Kingsman: The Secret Service

99 & 100. Avengers: Infinity War & Endgame

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I had a great time making this list, and I’m grateful to the friends who asked for it. I really miss when this blog was something I did regularly. Making this list reminded me of so many great films from the decade. It also embarrassed me as I sifted through and saw how many celebrated and beloved films I haven’t gotten to yet. Even if I only loved 10% of the consensus great films of the last ten years that I’ve missed, this list may have been wildly different. I have so many films I’m excited to catch up on!

I’m amazed by all the film fans out there who painstakingly made video lists of their favorites of the decade. Theirs supercuts and lists overwhelmed me with the reminder of how beautiful this medium is, and how much I fucking love film. I wish I had the software and ability to do what they do.

In hindsight, I really needed several months to dive in and make this list right. I wish I could have gone back and revisited films from earlier in the decade. I remember really loving films like Certified Copy, Of Gods and Men, The End of the Tour, Somewhere, Black Swan, Jane Eyre, The Artist, The Lunchbox, Inherent Vice, Don’t Think Twice, Looper, Much Ado About Nothing, and Never Let Me Go, just to list a baker’s dozen. For whatever reason, those films aren’t as fresh in my mind anymore, and I have a feeling that if I’d had time to revisit them all, some would have been included. With more time, this list would inevitably have been different, perhaps significantly so.

I hope you enjoyed the list as much as I enjoy reading the lists other folks compile. Now I’m off to watch another movie.

Every December, film critic David Ehrlic picks his 25 favorite movies of the year. Nothing special there, as most critics do that sort of thing. It’s what comes next that makes Ehrlic’s end of year list more exciting. He edits together a brilliant supercut celebrating the films he’s selected — and a bit of the year in film overall. It’s one of my favorite end of year events.

I love lists like this in general. Whether in movies, music, books, comics, whatever. I get to learn about stuff I would have missed, I get to see things I already love in a new light, or reevaluate something I disliked. Ehrlic isn’t shitting on stuff he hates, there’s no diatribe against the films he thinks are a waste of time, or ‘not cinema,’ or whatever. He’s simply celebrating the beauty of the films that mattered most to him throughout the year.

Each time, he includes films I absolutely loved, films that wouldn’t end up anywhere near my top 25, films I know I’ll probably love but haven’t gotten around to seeing yet, and hidden gems I didn’t even know existed, but now want to see as soon as possible (I’m looking at you Diamantino).

His supercuts are a celebration of the power of film in all its beauty and diversity. So many people make similar end of year videos, but Ehrlic is the master of the form.

In truth, this is an entire album and artist that I’m obsessed with, but we can begin with the song that started it all.

Actually, it began with an episode of a YouTube series Amoeba Music does called ‘What’s in My Bag,’ wherein various artists wander around Amoeba and share what they put in their shopping bag and why.

I’m super late to all the parties these days, so I’d never heard of Orville Peck before watching his episode (which is embedded below).

I was intrigued by his affectation of wearing a fringed mask. Then my curiosity became too much to resist when the video revealed he’s disarmingly sweet and charming, with explanations leaving his thoughts as unguarded as his face is hidden. [Side note: as I barreled down the Orville Peck rabbit hole, his Live at KEXP performance doubled down on the charm, vulnerability, and charisma. That is also embedded below.]

I immediately went to YouTube to find a music video, ‘Hope to Die’ was the first hit, and I was hooked. The song and video are a remarkable orgy of a country song, great songwriting, amazing visuals, various gay subcultures, silliness, theatricality, and a broadway musical.

Peck is a gay, Canadian, outlaw country singer who is never seen performing or in official photographs without one of his many fringed masks — which he makes himself, by the way. That alone makes him a likely artist for me to find fascinating.

But what fuels my obsession is his personality and the work itself. The best way I can describe his debut album is that it contains hints — some more than others — of Merle Haggard, Roy Orbison, the Phantom of the Opera (because of his classically trained voice even more than the mask), the Cure, dream pop, and some Grand Ole Opry costuming and theatricality. I definitely missed a bunch of ingredients, but that’s what I’ve got for you off the top of my head.

I’m as quickly and as deeply obsessed as I’ve been with any artist I can remember in quite a while.

‘Hope to Die’ has maintained its spot as my favorite song on the album, but the #2 spot changes every few days. Every song on the album is a gem for one reason or another.

I know he’s not going to be for everyone who reads this blog, but he’s damn sure for me! Also, I just learned that he’s on the OST for HBO’s Watchmen series, so, I’m even later to this party than I thought.

As promised, ‘What’s in My Bag’ and a ‘Live at KEXP.’ He has a more recent ‘Live at KEXP’ from a few weeks ago, but I’d recommend this one first. It includes some interesting insight into wear his voice under the Orville Peck moniker comes from.

Well, would you look at that. Turns out that when I rarely write on my website, a trailer posted for a movie back in early September has just a single post separating it from my reaction to that same movie at the end of October. C’est la vie.

I absolutely loved this film. I really wanted to love it, and I did.

Once, a friend and I were talking about a movie I really wanted to love, then loved. He said it wasn’t surprising, because by wanting to love it so much, I was pretty much going to love it regardless of what it was like. The opposite of this is actually true for me. In reality, it happens all the time that I dislike something I was hoping to love. I just take the disappointment harder than normal — like, irrationally hard — when an artist I love creates something I genuinely dislike. Emily and I joked that I’m going to need significant time to recover when I don’t like something Taika does.

All that to say, I didn’t love Jojo Rabbit just because I really wanted to love Jojo Rabbit.

In some ways, it felt like peak Taika Waititi. So many of his sensibilities and strengths distilled down to their purest form, then amplified by the cultural context he’s responding to.

It has all the winsomeness and joy Taika is known for. It’s expectedly hilarious. It’s populated by a bunch of delightful weirdos. Yet, as should be expected in a story about Nazi Germany, it goes some much darker, more heartbreaking places than his previous work.

I love when art makes me want to be a better person. Fiction can inspire us to be more empathetic (that’s actually been researched and turns out to be true and not just wishful thinking by us reading nerds). It can carve out room for us to grow our capacity to be better people. It can give us a space to practice and imagine where we can participate with the good things and reject the bad. This movie did that for me.

I’ll avoid spoilers in this post, but here are my initial spoiler-free takeaways from Jojo Rabbit: Do what you can. Hold fast to love and hope, especially in the darkest times. Be brave and be kind. Fight hate and fear in all its forms. And always remember to dance.

As a kid, like most of my friends, I spent time fantasizing about being able to teleport, or turn invisible, or just generally be Wolverine. Yet, more often, I imagined being able to freeze time . [[Like on Out of This World, an 80s sitcom of which the only thing I remember is that the lead girl could freeze time.]]

Those thoughts of time freezing bliss still come to me as an adult — fairly regularly, as a matter of fact — and a huge part of that fantasy is the fact that I’d have unlimited time to learn about, watch/rewatch, and read/reread everything out there that interests me. I always want to watch and read all the things. Not some of the things, or most of the things, ALL THE THINGS!! Or at least, all the things that seem to be good things.

Sadly, the superpower to stop time still eludes me, so I’m always behind on a countless number of movies, shows, and books I want to get to watching/reading. For real, it’s literally a countless number (aka, my living nightmare).

All that to say, it always feels good when I finally get around to something that’s been on my radar. Thus, recently checking The Haunting of Hill House off my unending media list would have been satisfying for that reason alone. It’s been toward the top of said list since the show debuted on Netflix, and urgency intensified as multiple friends have raved about it and told me I need to get watch sooner rather than later.

Well, at long last I’ve seen it, and boy howdy is it good! (No, I don’t know why I use strange colloquialisms on this blog that I would never use in real life, but I’m not going to stop.)

For real though, I loved this show!

I had been a little hesitant once I learned it would only be very loosely based on the source material. I love the Shirley Jackson novel (which is a wildly underrated and under-read book, by a wildly underrated and under-read author — you probably know her as the author of “The Lottery,” the chilling short story many of us had to read in school), as well as the 1963 film adaptation, The Haunting (which is a wildly underrated and under-seen horror classic).

Using the source material as a jumping off point while taking off in a new direction could be an inspired creative choice. More often, it’s a disaster. Too many producers and writers ignore everything that makes the source material great, instead using said material to lazily grasp at a pre-existing intellectual property for the sole purpose of name recognition.

This show is definitely an example of the former. It feels like creator/writer/director Mike Flanagan really cherished the novel, and the way he made allusions and homages to the original felt genuine, and not like lip service. They made sense, and revealed an understanding of what was referenced.

Flanagan’s themes were very different from Jackson’s, but still thoughtful and resonant. I loved the story he told just as much as the original, if not more. I know, I know, suggesting I may like it more than the remarkable original novel is blasphemous, but I’m just being honest. Honestly blasphemous. (Maybe put that on my tombstone? Maybe a memoir title? Either way, it’s definitely an accurate description. Anyway, back to the show.)

The Haunting of Hill House is eerie, and the kind of scary that gets in your head. I’m not sure I was ever terrified watching the show, but the tone was tense and creepy, and the creepiness lingered. Let’s just say that after bingeing the show while Emily was out of town, I had more lights on than I normally would while getting ready for bed.

I think that lingering fear is due to how effectively Flanagan and company created the atmosphere of Hill House. The creepiness felt expansive and all-encompassing. It genuinely seemed like something ghastly may be around every corner, and I found myself constantly scanning the screen for some horror lurking in the background. Turns out, part of the reason for this unease was that at least 43 ghosts are hidden in scenes at Hill House throughout the show. 43!!! There were also some narratively earned jump scares that got me good.

More than that, as is the case in so many horror films I love, the genre was a vehicle for a meaningful story. The scares were fun, but the framework of a ghost story is used to tell a bigger story about the things that really haunt us, and how those things define and enslave us if we try to pretend they aren’t there.

So many of the show’s themes resonated deeply with me. Family, grief, love, mental illness, shame, and forgiveness just to name a few. As well as how to live well and still be open, vulnerable, brave and kind in a dangerous, often cruel world full of real life monsters.

There were more themes I really loved, but mentioning them would be venturing into spoiler territory. We can save that for irl conversations, or texts, or whatever. Similarly, I could also list some storytelling devices I really enjoyed, but again, it would potentially spoil stuff by getting your head going in a direction that might help you figure shit out earlier than you may want. Ask me all about it if you want to talk about it.

One thing I will say, which doesn’t spoil anything, is that episode six is an absolutely remarkable bit of visual storytelling. Hugely impressive technical filmmaking from everyone involved, including amazing work by the actors. However, most importantly, it was in service to the story, not at the expense of it. For real, friends, the episode is so fucking good. The degree of difficulty was so high and they crushed it. It’s even more impressive that they pulled it off while filming with five child actors who also crushed it.

Anyway, I guess that’s all I can write about this show without spoilers, so I’ll save the rest of my thoughts for outside the blog. Or for a future post where I throw caution to the wind and spoil the fuck out of everything (with warnings of course). We’ll see if I make it far enough to get back into that style of writing again.

Even if you barely know me, there’s a good chance you know I’m in love with Taika Waititi. Speaking of which, if you haven’t seen the tv adaptation of What We Do in the Shadows, you should get on that.

Anyway, after the teaser a month or so ago, we finally have a full trailer for JOJO RABBIT. I can’t wait!!!

Also, this will definitely be the best performance ever by a Polynesian Jew playing Adolf Hitler.

With any tattoo comes a number of inevitable reactions from friends, acquaintances, and strangers. From thoughtful, sweet and appreciated comments/questions, to downright irritating, out of line nonsense (and everywhere in between).

The most common and understandable reaction is curiosity as to what the tattoo means. Why on earth did I choose to get this particular thing inked onto my body forever?

Well, my friends, I finally got my second tattoo, so here is the answer to that question. [Also, excuse the bit of blood in the photo. The tattoo is in the healing stage, so this pic from immediately after is the best I’ve got at the moment.]

Since most people want a response no longer than a sentence or two, the tl;dr version is this: It comes from Neil Gaiman’s Sandman comics, and it’s meant to remind me that hope is the most powerful thing there is.

Still here? Good. Here’s the longer version:

Sandman is Neil Gaiman’s masterpiece comic book epic, the bulk of which ran from 1989 to 1996. It’s dark, weird, and literate. It’s shaped by Gaiman’s ability to create tremendous depth in his storytelling and worldbuilding by placing his protagonists within a context of myth, history, and literary references and allusions. Norman Mailer even called Sandman “a comic strip for intellectuals.”

I love it, as I do most everything Neil Gaiman does.

It’s the saga of Morpheus, aka Dream, one of the seven endless along with Destiny, Death, Desire, Despair, Delirium, and Destruction. They don’t rule the world as gods, but each is the personification and source of the things that make life what it is.

The story opens as Dream is taken captive by occult practitioners. They were trying to capture Death for predictably nefarious purposes, but they accidentally got Morpheus instead. They take away his three objects of power — his pouch, his ruby, and his helm — and keep him prisoner for 70 years, hoping to leverage his freedom for power and favor.

He inevitably escapes and returns to the Dreaming, the epicenter of all dreams and stories. In his absence, it has collapsed, broken down by entropy and disrepair. In order to restore it and regain his full power, Dream must reclaim his lost three objects.

His helm has come into the possession of a demon, Choronzon. To get it back, Dream must journey to hell, where he is challenged by the demon to a contest. If Dream wins, the helm will be returned to him. If Choronzon wins, Dream will become a slave of hell forever.

The rules are that each takes turns projecting a form, and one must top the other until either of the contestants fails to imagine something more powerful than the last.

Choronzon takes the first move. He imagines a vicious dire wolf. Predictably for a demon, the power of predatory violence is his style of play. Initially, Dream plays in kind, imagining forms that can kill and destroy whatever Choronzon imagines. Yet, he soon realizes the futility in letting Choronzon frame the game and shifts tactics to a more positive, life-affirming strategy.

Rather than explaining it to you, here is what comes next. It’s one of my favorite moments in anything I’ve ever read, and is meaningful enough to me that I, you know, tattooed on my body.

Choronzon, High Duke of the Eighth Circle, Captain of the Horde of Beelzebub, can imagine nothing that is more powerful than hope.

As soon as I read this the first time, I wanted this tattoo. This moment is the epitome of why I love Neil Gaiman’s work more than any other writer. It’s the hallmark of my favorite sorts of stories.

Part of the alchemy of my depression is that I can never forget “the darkness at the end of everything.” Even in my best and happiest moments, that shadow is always in my field of vision. So, hope that pretends the darkness isn’t there has nothing to offer me. The very existence of that sort of false hope leaves me feeling empty and defeated. But here, the demon reminds us of that darkness, flaunts it in Dream’s face believing it to be his trump card, and hope still wins!

Dream’s victory plants the thought in my mind that hope isn’t the most powerful thing in spite of the darkness, or if we ignore the darkness. It is the most powerful thing because of the darkness, because nothing is more beautiful or remarkable than when we stand up, look into the darkness that waits at the end of the universe, and still choose hope and life. That is the most powerful thing.

Hope isn’t logical. It’s to believe foolishly, not just when it makes sense, (and I’m far too enamored with things making sense). We all know how our stories end, but to simply lay down and give in to how often death wins — even though it is the inevitable end of our stories — is the coward’s way out. I want hope instead.

Hope is choosing to see the world as beautiful, to see meaning in the details and minutia of our lives, and to believe that meaning somehow transcends us. Even though that meaning is probably just a dream. It’s choosing to believe there is beauty in the darkness and mystery around us instead of just angry things with teeth and claws, or worse, a vacuum.

The only way I want to live the one short life I get is by holding fast to hope. That’s not easy for me. Often I don’t believe, foolishly or otherwise — but I want to. Maybe all of life is ultimately meaningless. Hell, I think that’s by far the smarter bet. But if that’s the case, then I want to make the stupid bet. I want to act like it all matters, because who knows, maybe it does? Maybe there is more than what we know for sure. Even though darkness does wait at the end of the universe, maybe that’s not all there is. I want to live and make my choices in the mystery of that maybe, because it beats the fucking alternative.

And so now my body is marked for the rest of my life to remind me to choose hope, because that’s how I want to live. I want to look into the darkness at the end of everything with my eyes wide open and say, “I am hope.”

That title sounds like a string of code words, right?

I assume I’m not the only one who goes stretches of days or weeks obsessed with the same song or album. I’m otherwise a pretty varied music listener, but every few weeks a song will capture my mind and I’ll return to it again and again and again.

Now that I’m on Roused a bit more often again, I thought it would be fun to share these songs as they arise.

At the moment, it’s not a song, but three songs I can’t stop listening to.