As I write about music everyday, I'm sure many of you have gathered that I'm terrible at taking care of myself (or, as a version of me would have said a decade ago, "adulting"). I usually work roughly fourteen-hour days, get about 4-6 hours of sleep, and mostly survive on coffee and beer. This is not a flex. I do not advocate this lifestyle. Sometimes it doesn't even feel like living. This year though, I'm dedicated to doing better for myself. To the extent that I have control over my life and schedule (rant on the market and the wheel of capital, aside), this means sleeping more, drinking more water, exercising regularly, and making time to straight chill. So far, I have made absolutely no progress towards any of these goals. However, I have found something that feels like a reasonable approximation for some of them: adopting plants.
I've developed the impression that plants are advanced and wisened organisms. They have very specific needs that, once met, allow them to produce their own food. They have a strong grasp of what conditions they will find nourishing and are adept at tricking humans into creating said conditions - rewarding their caretakers by releasing oxygen and looking nice. Most of all, they're just really good at being chill, which, again, is something I am aspiring to this year. I'm hopeful that some of their wisdom will rub off on me while I tend to them. None of us are dead yet, so the plan appears to be working so far.
Some people say you're supposed to play music for plants to help them grow. This seems like a bit of projection to me. Plants don't have ears. Humans are the ones who find music relaxing. What plants need are sunlight, water, and the right kind of soil. That's not to say that plants cant inspire music. This is one of the reasons I've been really enjoying Natural Habitat by LA electronic composer Mark Redito. Mark appears to feel a similar kinship with the plants that he invites into his home as I do. He expresses this appreciation with lively and warmly funky beats drawn from the world of dance music. While much of music about, or god forbid, for plants, feels like it is inspired by something other than a living thing, Mark's mixes are possessed of a genuine momentum that is surprisingly generative of both a sense of contentment and groundedness. I'm particularly partial towards the weightless city-funk of "Nowhere Left To Grow" with its splashing synths and the refreshing course of cooing melodies that passes through the composition like a cool breeze slipping over a window sill. I'm also rather taken with the pulsing sputter and liminal pounce of opener "Anne," which features some delightfully owl-like vocal percussion, an effect that is later developed and explored on the dial-up, modem churn mimicking and fusion jazz fizzle of "Anthurium."
Part of me hopes that in taking care of plants, I'll learn to take better care of myself. Whether or not I'm able to maintain my commitment to living better for myself this year, my life will have improved significantly due to the increased amount of photosynthesis that will be occurring in my apartment. The only other thing I'm certain of right now, is that Natural Habitat has earned its place in my new regiment of habitual listening.
Buy Natural Habitat on vinyl here.
