Warming Winter Music
Colourful commentary on the most colourless time of the year
I fucking hate winter.
There’s nothing about winter that I will tolerate, let alone enjoy. Fuck the cold, fuck hibernation and isolation, fuck winter sports, especially ice skating, and, most of all, fuck snow.
I grew up in Canada, so people assume I like snow. That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard — and I hear it a lot this time of year. If I never saw another flake of snow for the rest of my life, I would be perfectly content. Ecstatic, even.
I have progressively moved to milder cities, and I’m glad that London gets very little snow. Still, winter is unpleasant here – grey skies, sometimes wet, and very little daylight. It’s the latter that hits me the hardest. This time of year, the shortest days, there’s maybe 8 hours of light. Some days, the clouds are so low, and the grey sky is so pervasive, it never feels like daytime. The best remedies to the uniform grey I’ve found are exercise, supplementing with vitamin D, and escaping to warm, sunny places. Thailand this past January, for instance. Take me back here:
Everything is improved by music, even the wretched wintertime. When I think of winter music, my first choice is quite literal: my favourite album which features the word in its title. Do Make Say Think, a post rock band from Toronto, released an incredible record in 2003 called Winter Hymn Country Hymn Secret Hymn. The album is a journey, and conjures the experience of a winter road trip through Ontario, passing frozen lakes on snow-laden highways.
The record’s closer, “Hooray! Hooray! Hooray!”, is one of my all-time faves and the final song I want played at my funeral — but that’s a larger topic for a future post.
A runner-up favourite winter record is Wintersleep’s self-titled, debut album, also from 2003. It ticks all the winter boxes: the cover artwork, song titles such as “Snowstorm”, “Avalanche”, and “Wind”, and, obviously, the band’s name. More importantly, the album’s sound is dry and dark. Frosty, even.
Okay, that’s enough about somewhat obscure, winter-titled Canadian indie rock from 2003.
Despite my negativity towards winter, I look forward to start of the season as a time to reflect on the past year. (I’ll share some of those year-end reflections in early January.) Perhaps the dreary weather and spending more time indoors facilitates introspection. It certainly helps my writing practice.
I’ve created a playlist of songs that instil warmth, comfort, and self-reflectiveness in me. These aren’t happy, sunny songs per se — hear my playlists in June and September for those vibes. These eighteen tunes are mostly hopeful, some romantic, all meaningful.
Curl up in your comfiest spot with someone and/or something hot in hand. Allow music to stave off the winter blues and greys, boredom, cold, and darkness. There is light and warmth ahead. Listen for it.