🎵 March 2025

Three months down, nine remain.

A lot of time left for us this year — enough to learn a new
language or write a novel. Enough time to carry a baby full term.

Ashland Springs Hotel 2019

📸 gary lundgren

Being mindful has become a cliche, I know, but I still love the intricacies of this practice.

Mostly, I love tracking my time, so I can be more intentional. Those first few beautiful hours in the morning? How do I make them count. What should I do with those forty-five minutes in the late afternoon after a long day at the office? Maybe I’ll read something or meditate or play disc golf. Maybe a long walk with new music or an audio book. If I’m lucky, maybe I’ll connect with a friend or loved one.

Time almost speeds up when we’re not paying close attention. Being mindful is a tool we can deploy more often than we realize — just merely acknowledging the hours rushing at us can be powerful. Doing this with real intention is an act of magic, because it slows down our perception of time.

Listening to music every day and curating these monthly playlists has been a daily practice of mindfulness. I love it so much, because I’m choosing to spend real time exploring new music.

This month brought along another beautiful batch of songs. Tracks that jumped out and surprised me. It’s like hiking new trails every week and discovering views I haven’t seen before. New songs that didn’t exist until now — and many from artists I didn’t know.

I hope you enjoy this one and continue to support the artists you love. Buy their records if you can and share their work with others. Go see their performances on stage and their films in the theater. Read their novels and their poetry. Frame and hang their images. Art is great medicine for these strange times we’re living in.

As always, thanks for reading and listening. If you find something new you dig, I always appreciate finding out what’s landing with you.

Find it here on Apple Music and Spotify.

Gary

🎵 February 2025

What do you do when you turn the key and your creative engines don’t fire?

A heavy feeling of uncertainty descends and envelopes me this morning — it’s like encountering a massive fog bank along the trail and losing my sense of direction.

Where was I trying to go? It’s 6:39 a.m.

Ashland, Oregon 2021

📸 gary lundgren

I’ve been reading Brian Eno’s diary from 1995 called A YEAR WITH SWOLLEN APPENDICES. I am relishing the vulnerability — the familiar terrain, the petty thoughts, the self deprecating tangents. Because with Eno, the rabbit holes are the point, inevitably leading to these unexpected revelations about life, art-making, music-making. It’s a beautiful, rare read that I’m choosing to take in like a devotional — a daily dose of one of my creative hero’s uncensored thoughts from thirty years past.

ENO, the new generative documentary that played film festivals last year, paints an intriguing portrait of the enigmatic artist who’s been immersed in creative work for six decades. What was most fascinating for me in the version I saw, was getting glimpses of his creative process. How he sometimes begins a day in the studio with an unexpected piece of music playing — even a generative music bed created on the fly. Changing up the tone of the room often becomes a catalyst, helping artists break through monotony, and establish a new magical direction. On 1/19/95, Eno wrote about recording I Have Not Been to Oxford Town with David Bowie from their OUTSIDE sessions.

The thing I started last night really burst into life today, when David heard it. Bizarre: he sat down and started writing the song on the first hearing…he went into the vocal booth and sang the most obscure thing imaginable — long spaces; little incomplete lines. On track 2 he sang a companion part to that, on track 3 a ‘question’ to which tracks 1 and 2 had been the ‘answers’...Within a half an hour he’d substantially finished what may be the most infectious song we’ve ever written together."

When I’m writing a screenplay or editing a film, I’m most often working in isolation. Covering enough ground each day is always a mission of joy, but one that’s mostly fueled by self-discipline. If I find myself spinning my wheels or on the side of the road, I often take a time-out for some music. Sometimes it’s one side of an LP I haven’t heard in a while — something that can become a catalyst.

This morning, I played THE LONESOME CROWDED WEST on vinyl and time-travelled back to simpler times of ‘97. The nostalgia’s palpable as I marvel at this prescient, inspired piece of work. Being away from it for so long, the record feels like it’s grown larger since I’ve been away. Listening back, it just sounds fuller and more profound. Even the title feels bigger this morning. How lonely we can feel in these crowded scenes we occupy.

Why we end up loving a song is complicated. There’s no formula — sometimes it’s the quality of someone’s voice, a certain lyric, chord or melody, a sensibility expressed that lands with us. Music actually provides a biological impact when it connects — it affects our brain chemistry, our heart rates, even our immune systems. A great record or song for me is the ultimate palette cleanser, as it creates opportunities to pivot in real time and continue along the creative path.

The FEBRUARY 2025 playlist is up. These were curated from hundreds of songs that found their way to me. And the fact most of these were released in February, is still kind of mind-blowing. These merely scratch the surface of the three million new songs uploaded to Spotify this month.

I will resist my urge to write about why I love each one of these 20 songs, 😅. My sincere hope is that a few find their way to you, wherever you are, and they help make your day a little brighter.

As always — if you end up loving a song or a new artist on here, I hope you’ll consider buying an LP, CD or digital download directly from the artists. Perhaps a T-Shirt or concert ticket when they inevitably come through a city near you. A ticket to a show also helps independently owned venues keep their lights on.

Finally, thank you to those who reached out after January’s playlist. Just further confirmation that art is meant to be shared, and that there’s real value in publishing these. Thanks for reading and listening.

Find it here on Apple Music and Spotify.

Gary

🎵 January 2025

And just like that, our first month has almost vanished in the rearview, like these orange and purple skies at magic hour. Early this morning, I asked myself…did you enjoy the early days of 2025? Did you accomplish what you wanted, what you expected?

Lincoln Beach, Oregon 2019

📸 gary lundgren

Well? I sure tried. On some days, yes — there were moments of happiness, and even longer stretches of bliss where everything fell into the right place. Great sync with work, discipline, play. Windows of time where I felt beautiful connections with people. There was patience, kindness and love in our exchanges. There were even full days where I felt creatively focussed and balanced, with almost enough time and energy. Days where I felt successful.

But reality often set in and I’d feel that inevitable pull towards fear, worry, and sadness. Lately, I’ve been learning to sit with these darker feelings and be ok with them, instead of fighting them off. But why do they visit, and what should I be learning? What is this ebb and flow between faith & doubt — fear & love? These polarities confound me. But perhaps they can only exist in pairs. When one thrives, the other lurks in soft focus.

My happiest January days were built on confidence and gratitude. At times almost accidentally. Getting rest and eating healthier contributed to the good days. Sometimes though it wasn’t quite that simple — and I had to conjure up these pillars somehow with a kind of alchemy. It’s good to remember this power we can access. When we surrender and almost choose how we want to feel. I believe it’s something we can practice.

David Lynch used to say, look at the donut, not the hole. Essentially, focus on the things that are meaningful, good and helpful — while steering clear of the BS. It’s something I’ve been getting better at, and it takes discipline. Especially when life gets more challenging and difficult.

When David passed on January 15, I felt such heavy, profound loss. And the residual sadness from the SoCal fires was consuming. The fires that terrorized so many people I know and love. It always feels like there’s more time — for another movie, another meet up, another job, another weekend. But David’s time here ran out. Rest in peace, hero. You were one of a kind.

My mission for this exercise is simple; curate and publish a monthly playlist using recent songs I love. And by recent I mean tracks that still feel new to me. This allows for the brand new songs, and also those stragglers — those growers — those songs that eventually sneak up and surprise you.

Some songs we love on the first and second spin. However, some of the best songs don’t show off their full colors until the right season comes along. Craig Finn, in his terrific podcast, talks about how some records are just meant to be heard in the summer, even after being released the previous fall. This resonates because so often the best records need to be broken in like a baseball glove. They need to percolate and be lived with over a handful of months, and eventually they find us at exactly the right moment.

As January winds down, I’ve put the finishing touches on this first offical playlist of 2025. What a stunning batch of songs that came together this month. I love these artists — the fact they used their gifts and channelled their own experiences and emotions. They wrote and recorded these songs recently and sent them out into our world. Obvious, I know — but they really do want people to listen to their work. But only we can press play and give them our undivided attention. “Art” is often created for the artists themselves, but mostly it wants to be experienced by us. It’s only in the exchange where art enriches lives and helps change the world.

Thanks for listening — I hope you discover some new songs and share the music.

Find it here on Apple Music and Spotify.

Gary

🎵 Happy New Year

2025 is here and it looms large. Twelve months of life unaccounted for, but they stretch out in front of us for miles. The stakes feel higher, don’t they? Sure, we’re older, hopefully smarter — that’s part of it, but there’s something palpable brewing in our collective consciousness.

Ashland, Oregon on November 14, 2024

This year, I believe we’ll squander less of the time we are given. We’ll make each day count a little more — perhaps more than we ever have.

I already find myself clinging tighter to the people I love and who love me. I’m turning my back on unrequited friendships. Side-stepping those familiar throes that have sometimes dragged me down. Re-directing myself to this life I’m lucky to be living. Saying this out loud feels exhilarating.

2024 had its share of milestones and memories, but recklessly, it sprinted by me in a blur. I sleep-walked through many days, weeks. As I look back, too much time feels unaccounted for. Not enough love, intent, clarity, action — not enough gratitude. Not enough of those things that help make life fulfilling. In 2024, I always felt a few minutes behind — a few degrees off.

But through it all, there was still a soundtrack. If you know me, you know I am compulsive when it comes to music. I always bring it along with me.

Back in 2022, I shared a song each day. Once it showed up in my morning meditation, it would take me about thirty minutes to articulate why I loved the track. The daily exercise forced me to contemplate the qualities I love in music, art, film.

In 2025, I will be sharing a playlist at the beginning of every month. Recent songs that found me — some from famous artists and some that fly way under the radar. Maybe a few will find their way on to your playlists. An astounding amount of great music is being produced these days, with little fanfare and exposure — so sharing music I love feels easy, fun, important.

For most recording artists, streaming revenues are obscenely low. Purchasing music and merchandise directly from the artists you love is the best way to say thank you.

This first playlist of 2025 is actually 25 of my favorite songs that dropped in 2024. Songs that hung around and spoke to me — moved me. Songs I loved hearing. If they came on in a shuffle, I’d turn up the volume and play them again.

The first playlist is here: published on both APPLE MUSIC and SPOTIFY.

Happy New Year! Wishing you all the best in 2025.

Gary