Location: https://music.apple.com/gb/playlist/4-us/pl.u-76oNNd3T4qRKJV
I made this for us when things started to get hard. You know that part. You know that was me talking to you, saying I’m with you. But what I didn’t share then, is that a day-and-a-half worth of music dedicated to you is another way of saying:
Here’s a space where we can all be honest. In this house, crying is allowed and so is laughing and so is furious dancing. I’m rapid-cycling through a million feelings a day, as I imagine you are too. It’s more than we can say in words or texts or voice-notes or emails. For when there are no words, but you don’t want to feel alone. For when you need to be able to stretch out a hand with your eyes closed and know that someone else is there. I’m inside here everyday. You’re always invited.
Here’s your scheduled vacation from real life. Leave the news where it is. If you want to cloud-surf, you might want to let the songs roll out in order. If you want surprise, then hit shuffle and you can rotate between planets for hours. Skip the ones you’d rather not see. Go to Seville or Zanzibar or Mars or heaven in that song if you want. You’re free. Remember there’s still out. There are still doors, even when it doesn’t feel like it. Protect the daydreaming. It saves our lives.
Thirty-three hours (for now) because I want your whole day covered. I’d wanted to make it a few hours long, then it turned into a day, and then I thought that was enough, but I kept remembering more. Because sometimes the days get unbearably long and I get that. Because the anxiety gets too loud and you need sound. Because I’m happy to be your beauty dispenser, your reliable vending machine.
Remember when I could only listen to four songs on repeat, because every other kind of music reminded me of the past or the future and I couldn’t bear to look in either direction? What a time, and you were there. I didn’t tell you, but back then, it really killed me to not be able to give you more. Capacity was a big thing. Depression injured my ability to be generous, to be the friend I wanted to be and that shattered my sense of self. Those black moods swallow everything. They make this gap between what you’d like to do and what you can actually do. There was very little I could do then. It hurt me not to be able to listen better, to see myself get less patient, to not be able to check in more, to be incapable of finding the goodness in things. You didn’t punish me, even when I was punishing myself. Do you know what that meant? That you waited for me to return to me?
Because the other day, I thanked God for your patience then because it saved my life. I thanked God for recovery, for how well I feel now, for how much has improved, for how much more capacity I now have to be with you, to carry you on the rough days. But I also wanted to thank you. Thank you for showing me that I’m more than what I can give, more than a shoulder, more than a hand. For showing me that I don’t have to be put together all the time, that you love me even when I can’t respond, that you’re still with when it’s rough. This long list of music is a lego mockup of the safehouse you built around me. I wanted to say, you will never be too heavy for me. I wanted to say, it’s an honour to be able to hold you again. I can’t wait to give you more.
I love your joy with more than my heart. It floods my whole body with satisfaction. But you knew that already. The thought of you reflexively yelling Ayyyy! when your jam comes on or getting up to dance because a song is just too good; the thought of you playing a fire song in the background while you work? Inject it! I love that you’re listening as you clean, on your drive to the grocery store, on the way to work, while you shower. I love when the throwback shows you how far you’ve come, I love that because of a song you can now remember that you survived that year after all, hard as it was. I love that you’ll find many songs here that’ll make you think: shit I can’t wait to go dancing again. There, that’s a moving picture of you in the future. If you can see it in your mind then of course it still exists.
I know I went hard when you send me texts cussing me out. When I get that kslndldnajbsKs because of the transitions; because you just never esperred the song that came next on shuffle, I feel like I just won the lottery. It’s a blessing to be able to flood you with delight.
Thank you for downloading Apple Music just for this. I hid some Sampha in there for you, as a toast to the inspiration station and the absolute madness that has since spilled out of it. Black Coffee, for that night we saw him live. Many others you’ve found already because you’re sharp like that. Thank you for the conversations, for the stories, for believing from day one, for the things you helped me to call by name, for dreaming loud and wide, for deciding to surrender and stay. It means more than you can wrap sixty-seven heads around. You matter daily. Also, the memories on the other side of this? Nutsss. Strap in.
Thank you for the space we called our apartment, thank you for sixteen hours and thirty six questions and the ways you changed my life. Thank you for then and now and tomorrow. For white boy music. For days in and nights out and inside jokes and what you wrote about the journey of this and how true that felt and your laugh and how fast you read and the photos and our films and shows. For seeing me and for letting me see you. Thank you for not running, for being my person, for teaching me how to stand still. For calling me in. For all your faces, for the second name you answer when you switch selves. I will always love you. A Case of You. Still on my feet. Still on my feet.
Thank you for landing in my life with a bang. For friendship. For reading me a bedtime story from your adm’s storybook when I wanted to not be here anymore. I will never forget that moment. It marked me on the inside in a way that didn’t hurt. That day, I saw who you have always been to me. I bring it up often, but I swear, that was a reason to live. More stories. More wonder. More moments listening to your voice. More you. What’s not to stay for? Thank you for those long ass calls talking about thirtyleven billion things at the same time and for challenging me and for your brilliance and for five years. For my niece. For the anyhow behaviour, because balance. For what we do to nightlife, for how we melt the room by moving, for what that shows them about freedom.
Because these songs next to each other turns the playlist into a family album. Because when I listen to this, I see you and you and you and you and you and you and you and we are all complete. Because music means I’m in Lagos and Abuja and London and Nottingham and New York and Vienna and Ghana and Cuba and Johannesburg and Florence and and and. Because music brings me straight to you and you and you and you and you, now and then and hopefully soon. Say cheese. Or don’t. Just be here.
Because we don’t talk very often but I still remember what songs you have to get up to dance to and when I close my eyes, I can see you. Because I think of you fondly, still.
Because I know you often get the bad voice that tells you no one cares and I want you to tell it that no one dedicates five hundred songs to someone they don’t care about. What is your anxiety if not a liar and a dirty bitch who lives a fake life? (S/O to Bob) To remind you, if you’re feeling guilt, that you did not make the world what it is. You deserve relief. It is your right. Whatever you feel is okay. And we’re going to be okay.
Because we teach each other how to integrate all our selves. Anger can sit with sadness can sit with excitement can sit with joy can sit with fear with grief with shame with pride in the same body. I don’t have to choose. Also, because you get what Brenda Fassie is doing in the same playlist as Sohn as Stormzy as Wizkid as Damien Marley as Nina Simone as Desiigner as Tyga as Dawn Penn as Burna as Lady Gaga. Because we are limitless. Because none of this shit matters. Because binaries are made to be melted. Because our waists are as fire as our minds.
Because we have been talking about music for fifteen years. Because there’s always one more thing I can’t wait to show you. Because you have a secret razz side. Because we love the soft songs and we like grime and you like trap and I love jazz. Because what’s better than shuffle insisting you stop what you’re doing to sing bella ciao. Because I can see you singing it with seriousness. Because you’re the weirdo I’ll spend my life loving. For our confessions and the safe secrets and your insightful questions and the fact that there’s nothing I can’t tell you. Because it’s until our teeth fall out.
Because my brain and your brain are friends. Because our tastes are twins. Because we’ve always talked without talking.
That thing you still can’t talk about? There’s a song for it. If I haven’t already, I’m going to help you find it.
Because if you’re really struggling today and can’t see the point of anything and just don’t even know what to do but need to move your body fast so you don’t fall down that hole, you might need music for that. Because if you’re struggling today and want to sink into it completely and cry about the thing you’ve been bottling up, you might need somewhere to go. Think of this as a room you can have to yourself. Lock the door if you want. I’ll be outside when you’re done.
Because you are one of my favourite musicians. Because I get you and you get me. Because the first time we spoke, I cancelled all my classes for you and we called each other sister. Because our spirits were friends before we opened our mouths. Because that night we went dancing (you know the one), I ascended planes. Because your voice takes me to God. Because it took talking to you once for me to know. Because it is an honour to have your life unfold next to mine. Because you are their equal. Because it will happen and I’ll be sitting front row.
Because when it gets bad, music helps. Because when it gets good, music makes it better.
Because we reunited after all those years and it’s still a dream. Because we shared a diary in a secondary school and made a whole new language. Because we learnt those lyrics together and we will never ever forget. Because I love talking film with you. Because everything you want is possible.
Because when I’m daydreaming, sometimes I’m aimless with it, but I know I’m in my future when I see us around that table eating something delicious. When the happiness makes me feel like I might burst. When my cheeks hurt from laughing. Because soon, this will happen. Because music is a member of our family too.
Because we have been writing to each other for eight years. Because those letters saved my life. Because I don’t hide from you. Because your words are on the walls in my house. Because you are made of magic. Because one day, we might publish these. Because you transform everything you touch. Because I love you for you, not for what you give, but for who you are. Because everyone I know who knows you loves you too.
Because I can be beautiful and you show me. Because you can be fucking glorious and I show you. Because when I was ugly, you remembered my face. Because when I yanked the mask and lost some skin, you helped me grow it back.
Because what is shame next to you? It melts between us. Because nothing you do will make me unchoose you, and you know.
Because you taught me about abundance. Because time with you and memories and breakfast in bed and watching you playing your guitar and us dancing in the rain and your kindness and your handwriting and the little things and the long drives and how you make jollof. Because you let me be me. Because you are mindblowingly you. Because you were gentle when I needed it the most.
For the trips that got cancelled. For how hard we have to go as a result. (Sorry I don’t make the rules! Prepare your knees!)
To show you that you’re welcome. To show you that there is always more.
Because I thought I had to die and you believed I could live.
Because you sometimes think you have to die and I know that you will live.
Because we got free.
Because you’ll get free.
Because I can finally look back and forward without crying and you know what that means to me.
Because you will be able to, soon, too.
Because one day, it stops hurting and that’s a promise.
Because when you’re in the playlist and I’m there too, I feel like I’m near you. Because I like to be near you.
Because I see you for you on the days you can’t. Because you see me for me on the days I can’t.
Because I’m already planning outfits in my mind for when we go dancing again.
Because you should never run out of things to love.
And you deserve everything good.
E x
Thank you Elo for always. Your writing has held me since I was a teenager and now I am here. Thank you for showing me what being myself is and how a person can come apart and come together again. How to exist side by side with all of my selves . You are stardust and moonshine and I love you always.
Everything matters because you write xx