Mixtape #123: Imbeciles Sans Frontiers

Songs for Portrait of a Body (In Pieces)

March 5th, 2023

Side A

1. Träkors by 1900
2. Of All The Things We Made by Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark
3. (We Like To) Do It With The Lights On by Islands
4. Your Silent Face by New Order
5. I’m On Fire by Electrelane

Side B

6. Still You by Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra
7. Do Your Best by John Maus
8. Traces To Nowhere by Mitch Murder
9. Faithfully by Journey
10. Den minsta av segrar by 1900

Spotify

Liner notes

So we enter the third month of this objectively terrible idea, not the mixtapes, but the serialized novel published in near real time which the mixtapes support:

portrait of a body (in pieces)

.

The format of the novel, twelve chapters, one for each month of the year, at least allows for a sort of interconnected short story feel, which helps keep things fresh, for me churning out the words and for those reading them (if that’s you, thank you!).

And that means the music I choose each month can be a departure from the last. This month finds our main character in Amsterdam, a birthday jaunt with his brother and best friend, and an excuse to track down his missing arm.

When I think of Dutch music I tend to think of ‘90s house-tinged pop. So this isn’t an attempt to make something Dutch, but to track the emotional journey of the chapter with music one might hear in a bar, from a passing vehicle, or playing in their mind.

If you haven’t yet dipped a toe in yet, you can start with the first chapter here. Or to give you an idea of what’s in store, here’s a paragraph from March (part one):

8.

I find the Brothers Sativa in the Nine Streets, three spliffs deep and sizing up a wheel of gouda. Dude, says Brandon. New wing? I flap it for his benefit. Same old wing, I say. But this is new. I flip-up my patch to show off a bright green eye. I’m feeling better already. The same can’t be said for the rest of the party, as Pete is currently having a fight with some imitation dairy. It’s plastic?! He shouts. Plastic! He hoists the sham cheese above his head and threatens it with the nearest canal. Then he starts in hysterics, and in a style reminiscent of Thom Yorke, sings fake plastic cheese at full volume. I attempt to wrestle the wheel back from him. Brandon captures the moment. It’s decorative gouda season, motherfuckers, he says.

It’s free to read. I’d love to see you over there.

You can sign up here:

Or just enjoy the playlist. That’s what it’s there for.

Next month, songs for April.

Until then,

Dan