Find Hidden Gems On Netflix And Max: Netflix and Max Bury the Weird Stuff: How to Surface Niche Documentaries and Music Films

You know that feeling when you scroll for 40 minutes, watch nothing, and end up rewatching The Office for the ninth time? It’s not your fault. The recommendation engines on Netflix and Max are designed to keep you clicking, not to help you find a 1972 Nigerian funk documentary or a lo-fi film about a cult ambient composer. The good stuff is there. It’s just buried under rows of thumbnails that all look like they were generated by the same algorithm that designs airport hotel art.

I’ve spent years digging through both platforms’ back catalogs. Here’s what actually works in 2026.

Why the Algorithm Feeds You the Same 50 Titles

Netflix’s recommendation system doesn’t care about your taste. It cares about watch time. If 10 million people watch Red Notice to completion, that becomes the default suggestion for everyone, even if you’ve spent the last month watching every music documentary David Byrne has ever touched. The system optimizes for engagement, not satisfaction. Max is slightly better because it inherited the Criterion Collection and HBO’s documentary wings, but the homepage still pushes whatever new prestige drama is getting press.

The fix isn’t to fight the algorithm. It’s to stop using the homepage as your primary discovery tool.

Search by Niche Keywords, Not Titles

Type “music documentary 1970s” or “experimental film” into the search bar. Don’t search for a specific title unless you already know it exists. Broad genre searches surface more obscure results than the homepage ever will. On Netflix, try “concert film” instead of “music.” On Max, “music box” pulls up the HBO Music Box series, which includes the excellent Listening to Kenny G and Jagged, the Alanis Morissette doc. Both are buried under three rows of true crime.

Specific search terms matter. “Ghanaian music” returns different results than “African music.” The more specific the term, the deeper the engine digs.

Use Third-Party Tools to Find What the Platform Hides

An autumn forest view framed through a dark cave entrance, showcasing vibrant fall foliage.

This is the single most effective thing I’ve done. Stop relying on in-app discovery entirely.

JustWatch lets you filter by streaming service, genre, release year, and IMDb rating. You can set the filter to only show titles rated above 7.0 that are available on Max, then sort by “least popular.” That’s where the weird stuff lives. Letterboxd is even better for music and entertainment nerds. Search for a niche genre tag like “music documentary” and filter by films available on Netflix or Max. Users there have already done the digging. Their lists are better than any algorithm because they’re made by people who actually watched the films.

I found Wild Combination: A Portrait of Arthur Russell through a Letterboxd list about avant-garde musicians. It’s a documentary about a cellist who made disco records and died of AIDS in 1992. Netflix would never put that on my homepage. It’s exactly what I wanted.

Set Up a Watchlist, Then Ignore Recommendations

Add 20-30 titles to your watchlist from third-party research. Then only open the app to watch something from that list. This breaks the scroll trap. The homepage becomes irrelevant. You’ve already made the decision before you opened the app.

The Best Hidden Music Films on Netflix and Max Right Now

Here’s a concrete list of what’s actually worth your time in 2026. I’ve watched all of these. No filler.

Title Platform What It Is Why You Missed It
Stop Making Sense (1984) Max Talking Heads concert film, restored in 4K Buried under comedy specials despite being the best concert film ever made
The Velvet Underground (2026) Max Todd Haynes documentary with rare Warhol footage Max’s homepage pushed it for 3 days, then replaced it with a dating show
Searching for Sugar Man (2012) Netflix Oscar-winning doc about a forgotten Detroit musician who became huge in South Africa Netflix categorizes it as “documentary” but never surfaces it in music-related rows
Sisters with Transistors (2026) Netflix Documentary about female electronic music pioneers Zero algorithmic push because it’s not celebrity-driven
Woodlands Dark and Days Bewitched (2026) Max 3-hour documentary on the history of folk horror Max treats it as “horror” and never shows it to music or documentary viewers

That last one isn’t a music film, but it’s a perfect example of how genre mislabeling kills discoverability. If you like the intersection of music, atmosphere, and film, it’s essential.

When the Algorithm Is Actually Right

Beautiful lake surrounded by forested cliffs in Ruskeala, Karelia, Russia.

Don’t dismiss algorithmic recommendations entirely. If you’ve watched 10 music documentaries and the platform suggests an 11th, it’s probably decent. The problem is when the algorithm suggests action films because action films are popular. That’s not recommendation. That’s advertising.

One thing that works: after watching something niche, rate it. Both platforms use explicit ratings (thumbs up/down on Netflix, “Love It/Not For Me” on Max) as a signal. Most people never rate anything. If you do, the algorithm gets sharper. But it still won’t surface the deepest catalog cuts. That’s what third-party tools are for.

Failure Modes: How People Waste Hours and Find Nothing

The biggest mistake is opening the app without a plan. You think you’ll browse for a few minutes, but the homepage is engineered to keep you browsing. Every row is a slot machine lever. You pull it, get a dopamine hit, pull again. Forty minutes later you’ve added 12 things to your list and watched nothing.

Second mistake: trusting the “Because you watched” row. Netflix’s version of this is notoriously bad. I watched a single Korean thriller and got Korean recommendations for a month, including romance series I’d never touch. The row isn’t personalized. It’s keyword-matched.

Third mistake: ignoring the search bar. Most people type in the name of a show they already know. Instead, search for a genre, a decade, or a country. “French music film” on Max returns results you’d never see otherwise. The search function is more powerful than the recommendation engine. Use it aggressively.

Build a Watchlist That Actually Reflects Your Taste

Close-up of colorful fluorite and amethyst crystals in various shapes on a white surface.

Here’s my system. It works.

  1. Once a month, spend 20 minutes on Letterboxd or JustWatch. Filter by platform, genre, and minimum rating. Add anything interesting to a note on your phone.
  2. Add those titles to your Netflix or Max watchlist immediately. Don’t wait. The list is your decision, made in advance.
  3. When you sit down to watch something, open the watchlist, not the homepage. Pick the first thing that matches your mood.
  4. Rate everything after watching. Even a thumbs-down helps the algorithm learn.
  5. Delete anything that’s been on your list for 6 months and you haven’t watched. If you didn’t watch it, you didn’t want it.

This system isn’t complicated. It’s just deliberate. The platforms want you to react. This forces you to choose.

Specific Picks for Specific Niches

If you like experimental music: Watch Sisters with Transistors on Netflix. It covers Delia Derbyshire, Daphne Oram, and other women who built electronic music before synthesizers were commercial products. The archival footage alone is worth it.

If you like punk and underground scenes: Max has The Velvet Underground, but also dig for Poly Styrene: I Am a Cliché. It’s a documentary about the X-Ray Spex frontwoman, and it’s the rare music doc that doesn’t feel like a Wikipedia page with interviews.

If you like world music and forgotten histories: Netflix’s Searching for Sugar Man is the obvious pick, but also search for Buena Vista Social Club. It’s been on and off the platform for years. When it’s available, it’s essential.

If you like film scores and composers: Max has Ennio, the Ennio Morricone documentary. It’s long and a bit self-indulgent, but the man wrote over 500 film scores. The doc earns its runtime. Netflix has Quincy, the Quincy Jones doc, which is more conventional but still solid.

These aren’t hidden because they’re bad. They’re hidden because they’re specific. The platforms assume specific means niche, and niche means low engagement. But for the people who find them, they’re the best thing on the service.

The streaming libraries are deeper than they’ve ever been. The tools to find the good stuff exist. You just have to stop letting the homepage make your decisions for you.

Contemporary Fantasy Series Unique Magic Systems: 8 Fantasy Series With Magic Systems That Work Like Music Theory

Most readers think magic systems are either “hard” (Sanderson-style rules) or “soft” (Gandalf-style vibes). That binary is wrong. The best contemporary fantasy series treat magic like music theory: a structured language with scales, intervals, and modes that characters practice, subvert, and occasionally break for emotional payoff. If you play an instrument or produce music, you already understand how these systems work better than most fantasy fans.

This list skips the obvious picks. You’ve heard about Mistborn and The Name of the Wind. Here are eight series where the magic actually functions like a musical system — and why that makes them more satisfying for adult readers.

1. The Craft Sequence by Max Gladstone: Magic as Contract Law and Chord Progressions

Start with Three Parts Dead ($19.99 paperback, Tor Books). Gladstone’s world runs on the idea that magic is a legal contract with reality. Craft practitioners — essentially lawyer-necromancers — draw power from starlight and convert it into working capital. The system has rules as strict as a conservatory curriculum: you don’t get to improvise until you’ve mastered the fundamentals.

Why does this matter for music-brain readers? Because the Craft Sequence treats magical failure like a wrong note in a performance. One missed payment, one broken clause, and the entire working collapses. The tension isn’t “will the hero find the power” — it’s “will the hero execute the sequence correctly under pressure.” That’s the same anxiety as playing a difficult passage live.

The Series at a Glance

  • Books: 6 main novels, start anywhere but Three Parts Dead is the cleanest entry
  • Magic type: Contractual, rules-heavy, resource-based
  • Read if: You like Spreadsheet Fantasy but want better prose
  • Skip if: You hate legal jargon or corporate satire

Gladstone’s real trick is making bankruptcy proceedings feel like boss fights. The series peaks with Four Roads Cross, but the first book stands alone fine.

2. The Green Bone Saga by Fonda Lee: Magic as Inherited Technique

Artistic portrayal of a model with angel wings and white lingerie on a white background.

Jade is the magic system in Fonda Lee’s Green Bone Saga. Jade grants enhanced speed, strength, and perception — but only to those with the biological tolerance and years of training to wield it. Think of it like perfect pitch: you’re born with potential, but without practice you’re just a liability.

Lee’s trilogy (starting with Jade City, $18.99, Orbit) treats jade the way a music conservatory treats technique. The Kaul family runs a jade-based clan, and their power struggles map directly onto questions of who deserves to inherit a tradition. The fight scenes read like choreography notes: precise, economical, and devastating when the rhythm breaks.

The magic system’s constraints matter. Too much jade without tolerance = psychosis and death. Too little training = wasted potential. It’s a system about discipline, not destiny. That’s rare in fantasy, and it’s why the series works for adults who’ve actually put in 10,000 hours at something.

3. The Broken Earth Trilogy by N.K. Jemisin: Magic as Improvisation on a Broken Scale

Orogeny in Jemisin’s Broken Earth trilogy is the ability to manipulate thermal and kinetic energy — essentially controlling earthquakes. The system’s genius is that it feels like free jazz: powerful, dangerous, and barely controllable. Orogenes don’t cast spells. They feel the earth’s tension and release it.

Jemisin won three consecutive Hugo Awards for this trilogy. Start with The Fifth Season ($17.99, Orbit). The magic system is unique because it’s tied to trauma and social oppression. Orogenes are feared, controlled, and killed for their abilities. That’s not a metaphor — it’s the literal plot.

For music readers: the second-person narration in parts of the first book is a deliberate structural choice that reads like a score direction. You’re not observing the story. You’re being told how to feel it. It’s disorienting at first, then brilliant.

4. The Locked Tomb Series by Tamsyn Muir: Necromancy as Genre Mashup

A small red flower encased in a glass bottle placed on an open book, symbolizing fragility and beauty.

Muir’s Locked Tomb series is a mess in the best way. Necromancy here is powered by thanergy — death energy — and the system is deliberately inconsistent because the characters themselves don’t fully understand it. That’s the point. Gideon the Ninth ($16.99, Tordotcom) reads like a punk cover of a classical piece: recognizable structure, chaotic execution.

The magic system isn’t the draw here — it’s the voice. Muir writes with the confidence of a guitarist who knows exactly when to play wrong notes on purpose. The result is a series that frustrates readers who want clean rules and rewards readers who enjoy tonal shifts.

Read this if you like The Mars Volta or any band that refuses to stay in one genre for a whole album. Skip it if you need your magic systems explained in an appendix.

5. The Poppy War Trilogy by R.F. Kuang: Magic as Drug Addiction

Kuang’s Poppy War trilogy treats shamanic magic as a substance abuse problem. The protagonist, Rin, accesses god-like power through psychedelic compounds and self-destruction. The system is unique because the cost isn’t abstract — it’s addiction, withdrawal, and permanent neurological damage.

The Poppy War ($18.99, Harper Voyager) is not a comfortable read. Kuang based the conflict on the Second Sino-Japanese War, and the violence is unflinching. But the magic system’s real innovation is treating power as something that consumes the user. That’s a more honest take on “magic has a price” than most fantasy manages.

Music comparison: this is the fantasy equivalent of a concept album about self-destruction. You don’t enjoy it. You respect it.

6. The Divine Cities by Robert Jackson Bennett: Miracles as Bureaucratic Loopholes

A woman in stylish attire sits thoughtfully in a rustic setting with vintage decor.

Bennett’s Divine Cities trilogy starts with City of Stairs ($16.99, Broadway Books). The premise: gods created miracles, gods died, and now those miracles are glitching. The magic system is essentially debugging a legacy codebase written by dead deities.

What makes this work is Bennett’s willingness to treat magic as infrastructure. Miracles have rules, but those rules were written by beings with different priorities than humans. The result is a system that feels both ancient and broken — like a cathedral organ with several stuck keys.

The series is a detective story at heart. Each book solves a magical mystery by understanding the system’s original intent. It’s the closest fantasy gets to musicology: studying dead composers’ works to understand why a chord progression works.

7. The Books of Babel by Josiah Bancroft: Magic as Architecture

Bancroft’s Books of Babel series (starting with Senlin Ascends, $16.99, Orbit) doesn’t have a traditional magic system at all. Instead, the Tower of Babel itself is the magic — a structure so vast and strange that it functions as a world. Each ringdom has its own rules, its own economy, its own physics.

The magic here is environmental. Characters don’t cast spells; they navigate. The Tower rewards curiosity and punishes complacency. It’s a system about exploration rather than power accumulation.

For music readers: think of the Tower as a concept album where each track is a different genre. You never know what’s coming next, but the transitions make sense in retrospect.

8. The Masquerade Series by Seth Dickinson: Magic as Economic Policy

Dickinson’s Masquerade series (starting with The Traitor Baru Cormorant, $17.99, Tor Books) is barely fantasy at all. The magic system — if you can call it that — is accounting. The protagonist, Baru, uses economic manipulation to destroy an empire from within. There are no spells. There are balance sheets.

This is the most radical magic system on this list because it’s real. Dickinson treats economic policy as a form of sorcery: invisible, powerful, and devastating when wielded by someone who understands it. The series is a masterclass in making spreadsheets feel like dark magic.

Read this if you want fantasy that respects your intelligence. Skip it if you need actual dragons.

How to Choose: A Practical Comparison

Not every series fits every reader. Here’s the breakdown by what you’re actually looking for:

Series Magic Type Best For Entry Point Price
Craft Sequence Contractual/Legal Rules-lovers, corporate satire fans Three Parts Dead $19.99
Green Bone Saga Inherited Technique Martial arts fans, family drama Jade City $18.99
Broken Earth Improvisational/Elemental Literary readers, trauma narratives The Fifth Season $17.99
Locked Tomb Necromantic/Chaotic Voice-driven readers, genre mashups Gideon the Ninth $16.99
Poppy War Shamanic/Addictive Dark fantasy, historical fiction The Poppy War $18.99
Divine Cities Bureaucratic/Investigative Mystery fans, worldbuilding nerds City of Stairs $16.99
Books of Babel Environmental/Architectural Exploration fans, weird fiction Senlin Ascends $16.99
Masquerade Economic/Strategic Political readers, strategy fans The Traitor Baru Cormorant $17.99

My pick for most music-brained readers: Green Bone Saga. The discipline-and-practice structure maps perfectly onto learning an instrument. My pick for readers who want something genuinely weird: Locked Tomb. My pick for readers who think fantasy is childish: Masquerade.

What to Avoid: Fantasy Series That Waste Your Time

Not every hyped series deserves your shelf space. Here’s what to skip in 2026:

  • Anything with a magic system explained entirely in an appendix. If the book can’t show you the rules through story, the rules don’t matter.
  • Series that soft-retcon their magic every book. Looking at you, Lightbringer. Consistency matters.
  • Chosen One narratives with zero training montages. Power without practice is boring. Give me the 10,000 hours.
  • Magic that solves problems instead of creating them. The best systems generate conflict. The worst ones end it.

One more mistake: starting a 10-book series because BookTok told you to. The series on this list are complete or nearly complete. You can finish them. That matters more than you think.

The Verdict: Start With Green Bone Saga

If you read one series from this list in 2026, make it Fonda Lee’s Green Bone Saga. The trilogy is complete. The magic system is rigorous without being sterile. The family drama is genuinely affecting. And the fight choreography is the best in contemporary fantasy — precise, brutal, and rhythmically satisfying in a way that will make sense to anyone who’s ever practiced a difficult passage until their fingers bled.

Start with Jade City. If you’re not hooked by chapter five, this list isn’t for you. If you are, you’ve got two more books and seven more series waiting.

Declutter House In A Weekend: Declutter Your House in a Weekend: The Music Lover’s 48-Hour Reset

The average American home contains over 300,000 items. Most of them are not being used. You don’t need a storage unit. You need a system with a tempo.

I’ve watched musicians finish albums in 48 hours. Not because they had more time. Because they had constraints. Deadlines force decisions. Your cluttered house is just an album with too many unfinished tracks. This weekend, you’re cutting the filler and keeping the hits.

The Core Problem: Your House Is a Record With Too Many B-Sides

Clutter is not a storage problem. It’s a decision problem. Every item you own is a song you haven’t decided to release or delete. The pile of cables in the drawer? That’s a demo tape from 2015. The stack of old magazines? Unreleased tracks that will never make the album.

Musicians understand this intuitively. A great record has maybe 10 or 12 songs. The rest get cut. Not because they’re bad. Because they don’t serve the whole. Your living room should work the same way.

Here’s the first principle: Every room is a tracklist. You’re not “cleaning.” You’re sequencing. You’re deciding what makes the cut and what goes to the vault. If you wouldn’t put it on the album, it doesn’t stay in the room.

The Three-Question Filter

Before you touch anything, memorize this filter. It works faster than any Marie Kondo joy check:

  • Have I used this in the last 12 months?
  • Would I buy this again today for full price?
  • Does this item have a specific, assigned home that isn’t “the floor”?

Two “no” answers and it leaves. Not to a “maybe” box. It leaves the house. Maybe boxes are how clutter survives. They’re the extended outro that should have been faded out.

The 48-Hour Schedule: Treat It Like a Recording Session

Woman sits in a cardboard box surrounded by moving boxes, symbolizing a new home journey.

Studios book time in blocks. You should too. Here’s the exact schedule. Follow it or don’t. But if you don’t, you’ll be decluttering the same corner next month.

Time Block Saturday Sunday
8:00 AM – 10:00 AM Kitchen countertops and cabinets Bedroom closet (everything on the bed)
10:00 AM – 12:00 PM Living room surfaces and media Bathroom drawers and medicine cabinet
12:00 PM – 1:00 PM Lunch break (no scrolling) Lunch break (no scrolling)
1:00 PM – 3:00 PM Paper piles and mail Garage or storage closet
3:00 PM – 5:00 PM Books, CDs, vinyl, and media Final sweep and donation run
5:00 PM – 6:00 PM Trash out, boxes to car Celebrate with a record you kept

Total active decluttering time: roughly 16 hours. That’s two full workdays. You can do anything for two days if the tempo is set.

Use Music as a Timer, Not a Distraction

Most decluttering advice says “put on a podcast.” Wrong. Podcasts require language processing. That’s the same brain region you need for deciding whether to keep the 2017 tax returns. Music occupies the emotional brain, not the decision brain.

Here’s the rule: One album per room. When the album ends, you move to the next room. No pausing. No “just one more song.” The album is the clock.

For high-focus sorting work, use instrumental records. Brian Eno’s Music for Airports is the classic choice. It’s designed to be ignored. It holds space without demanding attention. For faster, more physical work like hauling boxes or sweeping the garage, put on something with momentum. LCD Soundsystem’s Sound of Silver or anything by Four Tet keeps a steady pulse without lyrical interference.

What you should NOT play: anything you love too much. If you stop to air-drum during “In the Air Tonight,” you’ve lost the room. Save the favorites for the celebration record at the end.

The Vinyl and CD Problem: A Special Circle of Hell

From below of young slim woman carrying stack of heavy carton boxes with kitchen stuff and looking away while moving out of old house

Music fans have a unique clutter problem. We attach identity to physical media. A shelf of vinyl is not just objects. It’s a biography. But here’s the hard truth: If you haven’t played it in two years, you’re not a collector. You’re a warehouse.

I’ll be direct. You do not need three copies of Rumours. You do not need the CD version of an album you own on vinyl. You do not need the vinyl version of an album you stream daily. Pick the format you actually use. Let the rest go.

The 20-Minute Media Sort

Pull every CD, record, and tape off the shelf. All of it. Put it in one pile. Set a timer for 20 minutes. Go through the pile and make three stacks: Keep, Donate, Sell.

The Keep stack goes back on the shelf. The Donate stack goes in a box by the door. The Sell stack goes to your local record store. Most stores will give you cash or store credit same-day. If the store won’t take it, it’s not worth selling. Donate it.

Do not create a “maybe” stack. That’s the clutter’s survival mechanism. You’re smarter than a pile of jewel cases.

Failure Modes: How People Botch a Weekend Declutter

Here’s where it goes wrong. Every time. Avoid these or don’t start.

Failure #1: The sentimental detour. You find a box of concert tickets from 2011. You sit on the floor and relive the show. Thirty minutes gone. The fix: put all sentimental items in a single shoebox. Deal with it AFTER the weekend. Not during.

Failure #2: Buying organizing supplies before decluttering. You don’t need new bins. You need fewer things. Bins are for after. If you buy bins first, you’re just building nicer storage for junk.

Failure #3: The “I’ll sell it later” pile. Unless it’s worth over $50 and you’ve already listed it, it’s not a sale item. It’s a donation item with extra steps. List it now or let it go.

Failure #4: Recruiting a helper who argues. Your partner wants to keep the bread maker. You want it gone. This is not a negotiation. Whoever uses the item gets the veto. If neither of you has used it in a year, it leaves. End of discussion.

What Actually Stays: The Compression Principle

Father and daughter enjoying playful moment in stylish living room setting, highlighting family bonding.

Musicians understand compression. It reduces the dynamic range so the important parts hit harder. Decluttering is compression. You’re reducing the visual noise so the things you actually care about stand out.

After 48 hours, your house should feel like a well-mixed record. Nothing fighting for attention. Every surface intentional. The lamp on the side table. The framed poster on the wall. The single stack of books you’re actually reading. These things become visible because the clutter is gone.

You won’t miss the stuff. You’ll forget you owned most of it within a week. What you’ll notice is the space. The silence. The way it feels to walk into a room that isn’t shouting at you.

That’s the whole point. A decluttered house is not an empty house. It’s a house where the good tracks finally get heard.

Set the timer, put on the record, and cut the filler.

Why Relationship Counselling Dublin Searches Lead to Music (And What Actually Helps)

You typed “relationship counselling dublin” into Google at 2am. Not because you want a directory listing. Because something in your relationship feels like a song played in the wrong key — you can’t name it, but you can hear it. Here’s the thing most advice columns won’t tell you: the music you and your partner argue about, avoid, or secretly listen to alone is often the most honest data you have about the relationship itself.

This isn’t about making you a playlist and calling it therapy. It’s about understanding why couples in Dublin — and everywhere else — keep hitting the same wall, and what the research on music, attachment, and conflict actually shows.

What “Relationship Counselling Dublin” Actually Means as a Search

When someone searches for relationship counselling in Dublin, they’re usually not at the browsing stage. They’re at the “we’ve had the same fight four times this month” stage. The search itself is a signal: one partner has already decided something needs to change, and they’re looking for external validation or a concrete next step.

The problem is that most search results give you a list of clinics in Rathmines, Dun Laoghaire, or city centre. That’s navigational content. What you actually need is informational: how do I know if this is fixable? What does a session actually look like? And why do I feel more connected to my partner when a specific song plays than when we’re sitting across from each other at dinner?

The Hidden Question Behind the Search

Nobody searches for counselling because things are going well. The hidden question is usually one of these:

  • “Am I overreacting, or is this actually a problem?”
  • “Can this be fixed without admitting I was wrong about everything?”
  • “Will a stranger actually understand what’s happening between us?”

Music enters this space because it bypasses the verbal defences couples build. You can’t rationalise your way out of a song that makes you cry in the car. That’s the gap counselling tries to bridge with words — and often fails to.

The Music Compatibility Myth That’s Ruining Relationships

A couple sitting on a sofa with thoughtful expressions, surrounded by home decor.

There’s a persistent belief that couples need shared music taste to work. It’s nonsense. The research on music preference and relationship satisfaction shows something far more interesting: it’s not about liking the same bands. It’s about how you respond when your partner plays something you hate.

Think about it. Your partner puts on a trad session recording from The Cobblestone in Smithfield. You’d rather listen to drill. What happens next is a microcosm of your entire relationship. Do you mock it? Do you silently endure it while resenting them? Do you ask what they love about it? That third response — curiosity instead of judgment — predicts relationship stability better than any shared playlist ever could.

What the Gottman Research Actually Shows

John Gottman’s research at the University of Washington identified what he calls “bids for connection.” These are small moments where one partner reaches out — a comment, a touch, a song played. The response to that bid determines the relationship’s trajectory. Couples who stay together respond positively to bids 86% of the time. Couples who divorce respond positively 33% of the time.

Music is a bid. When your partner says “listen to this,” they’re not asking for a music review. They’re asking: do you see me? Do you care about what moves me?

What Actually Happens in a Dublin Counselling Session

If you do book a session — and sometimes you should — here’s what to expect. Most Dublin practitioners use an integrative approach, blending person-centred therapy with structured methods like the Gottman Method or Emotionally Focused Therapy (EFT). A first session typically runs 50-90 minutes and costs between €70 and €120.

The counsellor will not take sides. That’s the first thing couples get wrong. They arrive expecting a referee. They get a translator. The counsellor’s job is to slow down the conversation, name the patterns, and help each person hear what the other is actually saying underneath the complaint.

Questions You’ll Be Asked

Expect some version of these:

  • “When did you first notice things changing?”
  • “What does a good day look like in this relationship?”
  • “What do you each do when you feel disconnected?”

Notice what’s missing: “Who’s right?” That question doesn’t exist in competent counselling. The focus is on the pattern, not the perpetrator.

When NOT to Book Relationship Counselling

Couple in a therapy session sitting together on a modern sofa in a minimalist room.

Here’s the part most articles skip. Counselling is not always the right move. If there’s active abuse, coercive control, or addiction that’s being denied, couples counselling can actually make things worse. It gives the controlling partner new language to manipulate. In those cases, individual therapy or a domestic violence service like Women’s Aid (1800 341 900) is the correct first step.

Also, if one partner is already checked out and just wants the counsellor to deliver the breakup for them, you’re wasting €100 a session. Be honest about why you’re going. If it’s to say you tried, that’s not a therapeutic goal.

The Timing Problem

Most couples wait six years too long to seek help. Six years of resentment, failed bids, and silent car rides. By the time they sit on the counsellor’s couch, the patterns are calcified. Earlier is better. If you’re searching at 2am, that’s early enough. Book the session this week, not after the next fight.

What Music Reveals That Words Hide

This is where the Dublin music scene becomes relevant. The city has a specific musical identity — from buskers on Grafton Street to late sets at Whelan’s to the trad sessions that tourists photograph but locals actually attend. Couples in Dublin have a soundtrack to their relationship whether they know it or not.

Ask yourself these questions:

  • What song was playing when you first met?
  • What album did you both love in the first year?
  • What music does your partner play when they’re stressed?
  • What song do you skip when they’re not in the car?

That last question matters most. The song you skip is a boundary. The song you only play alone is a hiding place. Neither is wrong. But both are information.

The Attachment Playlist Exercise

Here’s a practical exercise that costs nothing and takes 20 minutes. Each partner picks three songs: one that reminds you of the beginning, one that represents a hard time, and one that you hope describes the future. Then you play them for each other. No commentary during. Just listen. Then talk about what you heard.

This works because it externalises feelings that are too raw to say directly. You can’t say “I miss who we were” without starting a fight. But you can play a song from that first summer and let it say it for you.

The Cost of Not Addressing It

A couple enjoying a serene moment by the lakeside during sunset in Pune, India.

Relationship breakdown is expensive. Financially, emotionally, logistically. The average cost of a Dublin divorce runs between €10,000 and €30,000 in legal fees alone. That’s before you factor in housing, child arrangements, and the emotional toll that shows up in your work, your health, your sleep.

Compare that to six months of counselling at €100 a session. That’s €2,400. Even if it doesn’t save the relationship, it saves you the years of wondering whether you did everything you could.

But the cost isn’t just financial. Unresolved relationship stress shows up in cortisol levels, immune function, and cardiovascular health. The research on marital conflict and health outcomes is unambiguous: staying in a high-conflict relationship without intervention is worse for your body than smoking.

What to Do This Week

Stop searching and start doing. Here’s the sequence that actually helps:

  1. Tell your partner you’ve been thinking about counselling. Not as a threat. As a statement: “I want us to work, and I think we need help.”
  2. Book a session. Not three. One. See how it feels. If the counsellor isn’t a fit, try another. Fit matters more than qualifications.
  3. Do the attachment playlist exercise before the first session. It gives you material to work with.
  4. If your partner refuses, go alone. Individual therapy can help you decide what you need, with or without them.

The single most important takeaway is this: the search for “relationship counselling dublin” is already the first step — but it only counts if you take the second one.

Music Taste Relationship Advice: Stop Letting Bad Tastes Ruin Your Relationship: A Music Compatibility Guide

You don’t need a therapist. You need to stop fighting about the aux cord.

Most people think a relationship survives on shared values, good communication, and financial stability. Sure. But the real killer is the moment you realize your partner genuinely enjoys yacht rock from 1978 and you have to hear it every single Sunday morning. Music compatibility is not a niche concern. It is a daily negotiation of identity and control. You are not arguing about the song. You are arguing about who gets to define the emotional atmosphere of the room.

The good news: you don’t have to break up with someone because they like Dave Matthews Band. You have to build a system. This is a practical guide to navigating music taste in a relationship without lying to yourself or your partner.

Why The “Shared Playlist” Is A Trap

The shared playlist is the most common advice you will find. It is also the most useless. You create a collaborative playlist on Spotify. You both add songs. It looks cute. It lasts two weeks. Then you realize you are curating for an audience of one, and you hate half the songs on it.

Here is the problem: a shared playlist forces compromise on every single track. Compromise is great for choosing a sofa. It is terrible for art. When you mix Kendrick Lamar with Mumford & Sons, you don’t get a beautiful blend. You get sonic whiplash. One of you is always waiting for the other person’s song to end.

The better approach is to stop trying to merge your identities. You are not a single organism with one set of ears. You are two people who occasionally listen to music in the same room. The goal is not to find music you both love. The goal is to find music that doesn’t make the other person want to leave the house.

Think of it like food. You don’t need to eat the same meal. You need to find a restaurant with a menu that has options for both of you. If you love Thai food and your partner hates spice, you don’t force them to eat green curry. You go to a place with a good pad thai and a good fried rice. Same principle with music.

Why Compromise Fails

Compromise fails because it assumes equal weight. It assumes that if you play 30 minutes of your music, you owe your partner 30 minutes of theirs. This turns listening into a transaction. You are not enjoying the music. You are counting down the seconds until your turn.

The fix is simpler than you think. Stop sharing. Stop taking turns. Designate zones.

Designate Listening Zones Instead Of Sharing

Young couple enjoying a relaxing day outdoors in a park during summer.

The most functional couples I know do not share music. They share spaces. They understand that different rooms and different times have different rules.

The kitchen is neutral territory. The car is a dictatorship. The living room is a negotiation.

Here is how it works. In the car, whoever is driving controls the music. Always. No exceptions. The driver needs to focus, and fighting over the aux cord while merging onto the highway is how accidents happen. If you are the passenger and you hate the music, put on your own headphones. The AirPods Pro 2 with active noise cancellation are the best $249 you will ever spend on your relationship. They block out the bad music without you having to say a word.

In the kitchen, play something neutral. Instrumental jazz, lo-fi beats, or classic soul that nobody hates. This is background music. It should not demand attention. The Sonos Five speaker ($549) is overkill for a kitchen, but it fills the room without distortion, which means you don’t have to turn it up loud enough to annoy the neighbors.

In the living room, you negotiate. But you negotiate with a timer. One person picks, the other person gets veto power. You get three vetoes per session. Use them wisely.

The Veto System

Three vetoes. That’s it. Not unlimited. Not zero. Three.

When your partner puts on a song you hate, you can veto it. But you only get three. This forces you to be selective. You don’t veto a song because it’s not your favorite. You veto a song that makes you actively want to leave the room.

This system works because it respects both people. It gives you an escape hatch without turning you into a tyrant. And it forces you to articulate why you hate something, which is a useful conversation to have anyway.

What Your Partner’s Taste Actually Reveals

Most people think music taste is a personality test. They think if you like Radiohead, you are deep and thoughtful. If you like Pitbull, you are shallow and fun. This is nonsense.

Music taste is not a window into your soul. It is a window into your past. People like the music they liked when they were 16. It is nostalgia, not identity. Your partner does not love the Eagles because they have bad taste. They love the Eagles because their dad played them in the car on the way to soccer practice.

Once you understand this, the arguments stop. You are not fighting about musical quality. You are fighting about emotional memory. And you cannot win an argument against someone’s childhood.

So stop trying. When your partner puts on a song you hate, ask them why they like it. Not in a condescending way. Genuinely ask. The answer will usually be a story. A road trip. A first concert. A breakup. That story is more interesting than the song.

This is the real value of Last.fm. Not the scrobbling. The history. If you connect your accounts, you can see what your partner was listening to five years ago. Not to judge. To understand.

When To Give Up And Buy Separate Headphones

Optimistic positive millennial female in white top and stylish sunglasses listening to favorite playlist and looking at camera while dancing with raised arms in studio on red background

Here is the truth nobody tells you: some music tastes are incompatible. Not in a “we need to break up” way. In a “we need to stop listening to music together” way.

If one of you loves aggressive techno and the other loves acoustic folk, there is no middle ground. Stop looking for it. You are wasting your time.

This is not a failure. It is a boundary. You do not need to share every hobby. You do not need to share every playlist. You need to share a life. And sometimes that life involves two different pairs of headphones in the same room.

Invest in good headphones. Not cheap ones. The Sony WH-1000XM5 ($350) is the best noise-canceling headphone on the market right now. It blocks out the bad music without you having to leave the room. The Bose QuietComfort Ultra ($429) is a close second, with slightly better comfort for long listening sessions.

If you are on a budget, the Anker Soundcore Space One ($99) does 80% of the job for a third of the price. The point is not the specific model. The point is that you have an escape route that doesn’t involve a fight.

Building A Neutral Playlist That Doesn’t Suck

You need a neutral playlist. Not a shared playlist. A neutral one. This is the music you play when you have guests over, when you’re cooking together, or when you just don’t want to think about who picks next.

The rules for a neutral playlist:

  • No lyrics that demand attention. Instrumental or foreign language is best.
  • No extreme dynamics. You don’t want a song that goes from whisper-quiet to screaming loud.
  • No deep cuts. This is not the time to show off your obscure taste.
  • No songs over six minutes. Keep it moving.
  • No songs either of you actively hate. This seems obvious, but it requires a conversation.

Here is a starter list that works for most people:

Artist Album Why It Works
Khruangbin Con Todo El Mundo Instrumental, groovy, inoffensive
Bonobo Black Sands Downtempo electronic with real instruments
BADBADNOTGOOD IV Jazz that doesn’t sound like elevator music
Tom Misch Geography Smooth, funky, universally pleasant
Nujabes Modal Soul Lo-fi hip-hop with warmth

Build your own version of this list. Keep it under 50 songs. Rotate it monthly. The goal is not to create a masterpiece. The goal is to create a default setting that doesn’t start a fight.

The Real Fix Is Not About Music

Bright portrait of an Asian woman enjoying music outdoors with headphones, radiating happiness.

If you have read this far, you probably know the truth. The music is not the problem. The music is the symptom.

Couples fight about music because they feel unheard. Not in the literal sense. In the emotional sense. When your partner plays music you hate without asking, it feels like a dismissal. It feels like they are saying, “My comfort matters more than yours.”

That is the real conversation you need to have. Not “why do you like this terrible band?” but “why does it bother me so much when you play this?”

The answer is usually control. You want to feel like you have a say in the shared space. And you do. But the way to get that is not to veto every song. It is to talk about the space itself. What is the kitchen for? What is the car for? What is the living room for?

Once you agree on the zones, the music stops mattering. It becomes background noise. And that is exactly what it should be most of the time.

But if you can’t agree on the zones, if every conversation about music turns into a fight about something else, then you have a bigger problem. And no playlist is going to fix it.

Here is the summary:

  • Driver picks the car music. Passenger wears headphones if they hate it.
  • Kitchen is neutral territory. Instrumental or classic soul only.
  • Living room uses the three-veto system. Pick, veto, repeat.
  • Stop trying to share playlists. Share spaces instead.
  • Buy good headphones. It’s cheaper than couples therapy.

Music Journaling Prompts: Journaling for Music Fans: 7 Prompts That Fix a Scattered Brain

People abandon journals because they treat them like confession booths. They sit down, write “Dear Diary, today was fine,” and quit by Thursday. Music fans have an unfair advantage here. You already spend hours analyzing lyrics, comparing album versions, and arguing about production choices. That instinct is the raw material for a journaling habit that doesn’t feel like homework.

This guide gives you seven prompts built around music. No empty self-reflection. No pressure to be profound. Just structured ways to turn your listening history into a record you’ll actually want to reread.

1. The One-Song Time Machine

Pick a song you haven’t heard in at least two years. Play it once. Then write for ten minutes without stopping. Don’t describe the song. Describe where you were when it mattered. The apartment with the broken radiator. The car with the sticky gearshift. Who you were driving to see.

This prompt works because songs carry spatial memory better than almost any other trigger. Neurologists call it the reminiscence bump—music from your teens and twenties gets encoded with unusually rich contextual detail. You’re not writing about the song. You’re excavating a room you forgot you lived in.

Use a physical notebook for this one. The Leuchtturm1917 A5 dotted ($22) holds up better than a Moleskine when you’re writing fast and pressing hard. If you need structure, set a timer on your phone. Ten minutes. No editing. No crossing out.

What to write when the song doesn’t trigger anything

Write about the silence. Write about why the song feels flat now. Write about the person who recommended it to you and whether you still talk. The prompt is a door, not a destination.

2. The Album as a Mood Thermometer

A woman writes in a notebook on a table with an open book and pen.

Before you start your day, write down one album that matches your current mood. Not your aspirational mood. Your actual mood. Then write one sentence explaining the match.

Example: “The National’s Trouble Will Find Me — because I’m moving slow and everything feels slightly out of focus.”

That’s it. Two lines. Do it for 30 days and you’ll have a mood log that’s more honest than any emoji tracker. You’ll also notice patterns you’d never catch otherwise. You reach for Phoebe Bridgers on Tuesdays. You reach for Run the Jewels when you haven’t slept. The data accumulates without you trying.

This is the easiest prompt to maintain because it takes under a minute. Put the notebook next to your coffee maker. Pair it with a habit you already have.

3. Rewrite a Lyric You Disagree With

Find a lyric that bothers you. Not a bad lyric—a lyric you disagree with philosophically. Maybe it’s a love song that romanticizes control. Maybe it’s a breakup song that lets the narrator off too easy. Maybe it’s a political line that aged poorly.

Rewrite it. Keep the rhythm and syllable count. Change the meaning.

This prompt forces you to engage with songs as arguments, not just vibes. You’ll learn more about your own values by editing someone else’s words than by writing your own from scratch. It also produces genuinely surprising results. Sometimes the rewritten version reveals that the original lyric was more nuanced than you thought. Sometimes it confirms the song was always shallow.

Music criticism is a form of journaling. When you write about why a lyric fails, you’re writing about what you believe should be true instead.

4. The Listening Log (With a Twist)

A couple enjoying music together, playing guitar and singing indoors. Intimate and relaxed atmosphere.
Date Album Where I Listened One Word Reaction Would I Return?
Mon Joni Mitchell — Hejira Bus, window seat Restless Yes, but only alone
Tue Floating Points — Promises Kitchen, cooking Spacious Yes, for late nights
Wed Charli XCX — BRAT Gym, treadmill Bratty Yes, but only loud
Thu Alice Coltrane — Journey in Satchidananda Bedroom, 1am Hollow Yes, but only in winter

Most listening logs fail because they ask for too much: rating, genre, standout tracks, production notes. You stop filling them in because each entry takes five minutes.

This version asks for five fields. The “Where I Listened” column is the important one. Context changes how music lands. The same album sounds different on a bus than in a bedroom at 1am. Tracking location alongside reaction reveals that you don’t just have taste—you have situational taste. Some albums only work in specific rooms, specific weather, specific hours.

Keep this log in a spreadsheet if you want to sort by mood later. Keep it in a notebook if you want the physical act of writing to slow you down. Both work. The spreadsheet is better for spotting patterns. The notebook is better for staying consistent.

5. The Setlist You’d Build for a Stranger

Here’s the prompt: You’re making a 10-song playlist for someone you’ve never met. You only know one thing about them—their age. Build the setlist. Then write one paragraph defending every choice.

This forces you to think about music as communication, not just preference. What do you assume a 24-year-old needs to hear? What do you assume a 60-year-old already knows? The assumptions you make reveal more about you than about them.

Do this once a month. Change the age. Change the stranger’s circumstances. Build a setlist for someone going through a divorce. Build one for someone who just moved to a new city. Build one for someone who says they “don’t really listen to music.”

The defense paragraph is where the journaling happens. It’s easy to pick songs. It’s harder to explain why those songs matter in that order for that person. That explanation is a values statement disguised as a playlist.

6. The Concert You’ll Never Attend

A young girl lies on the floor writing in a notebook, with a cello in the background, creating a cozy indoor setting.

Write a review of a show that never happened. Pick any artist, living or dead. Any venue. Any era. Describe the setlist, the crowd, the moment everything went wrong, the moment everything came together.

This prompt is pure creative writing, but it’s grounded in your actual knowledge of how live music works. You know what a bad opener feels like. You know what it feels like when the headliner plays the deep cut instead of the hit. You know the difference between a crowd that’s listening and a crowd that’s waiting.

Writing a fake review sharpens your real criticism. You start noticing what you value in live performance because you have to invent it from scratch. You also produce some genuinely fun prose. The best fake reviews read like love letters to the idea of live music itself.

This is the prompt to use when you’re stuck. It removes the pressure to be honest and replaces it with the freedom to be specific.

7. The “Why Do I Keep Skipping This?” Audit

Open your streaming app. Look at your most-played songs from the last month. Then look at the albums you’ve saved but never started. Pick one of those unplayed albums and write about why you keep avoiding it.

Sometimes the answer is boring: the album is 74 minutes long and you never have 74 minutes. Sometimes the answer is uncomfortable: the artist reminds you of someone, the genre makes you feel old, the hype makes you resentful.

This prompt is a failure mode audit. It asks what your avoidance patterns say about your relationship with music. Do you only listen to new releases when someone else curates them for you? Do you save albums as a way of performing taste without actually engaging? Do you avoid anything that requires attention, reaching instead for the same 40 songs on repeat?

There’s no wrong answer. But there is a pattern. And naming the pattern is the first step toward breaking it—or accepting it. Some people are singles listeners. Some people are album listeners. Neither is morally superior. But knowing which one you are stops you from feeling guilty about the wrong thing.

What you need: notebooks, timers, and the will to write badly

You don’t need a $40 guided journal. You don’t need a fountain pen. You need a notebook you’re not afraid to ruin and a timer you’ll actually use.

For most people, the Leuchtturm1917 A5 dotted ($22) is the best balance of paper quality and price. The pages handle gel pens and rollerballs without bleeding. The dotted grid gives you structure without lines. If you want something cheaper, the Muji B5 notebook ($8) is unbeatable for the price. The paper is thinner but perfectly usable for daily writing.

Skip the Moleskine Classic ($25). The paper quality has dropped over the years, and gel pens ghost through badly. You’ll get annoyed and quit.

For timers, use your phone. The default Clock app works fine. If you want a physical timer to avoid phone distraction, the Time Timer MOD ($35) is the standard recommendation, but honestly, a $10 kitchen timer from Target does the same job.

The only real requirement is that you write badly without stopping. The prompts above are designed to be interesting enough that you don’t need to be brilliant. You just need to show up.

Comparison: Which prompt fits your goal?

Prompt Best for Time Required Difficulty
One-Song Time Machine Memory work, emotional excavation 15 min Medium
Album as Mood Thermometer Daily consistency, pattern tracking 1 min Easy
Rewrite a Lyric Values clarification, critical thinking 20 min Hard
Listening Log Data collection, situational awareness 3 min Easy
Setlist for a Stranger Communication, empathy practice 25 min Medium
Concert You’ll Never Attend Creative writing, critical sharpening 30 min Hard
Skip Audit Self-analysis, habit diagnosis 10 min Medium

Start with the Mood Thermometer for two weeks. It’s the easiest to maintain and builds the daily habit. Then add the One-Song Time Machine once a week. Then add the Skip Audit once a month. You don’t need all seven prompts in rotation. You need two or three that you’ll actually do.

How Film Scores Turn Quiet Scenes Into Memory

How Film Scores Turn Quiet Scenes Into Memory looks at how music and entertainment become more rewarding when you listen for detail instead of just chasing the newest release.

For film scores, the useful question is not whether something is fashionable this week, but whether it holds attention after the first impression.

How Film Scores Turn Quiet Scenes Into Memory

The best notes often come from pacing, texture, arrangement, and the way a performance changes a room. Those details help a playlist, album, or scene stay memorable.

  • A restrained theme can do more than a loud cue.
  • Silence before the score often makes the emotional turn land harder.
  • The best scores give a scene a memory even after the dialogue fades.

Use this as a starting point, then return to the track, record, or score in a different setting. Good music usually gives back more when the second listen is slower.

Why Tiny Jazz Clubs Still Shape Big Listening Habits

Why Tiny Jazz Clubs Still Shape Big Listening Habits looks at how music and entertainment become more rewarding when you listen for detail instead of just chasing the newest release.

For small jazz rooms, the useful question is not whether something is fashionable this week, but whether it holds attention after the first impression.

Why Tiny Jazz Clubs Still Shape Big Listening Habits

The best notes often come from pacing, texture, arrangement, and the way a performance changes a room. Those details help a playlist, album, or scene stay memorable.

  • Listen for the room as much as the solo.
  • Notice how the rhythm section reacts when the audience is close.
  • Choose recordings that keep some live texture instead of polishing everything flat.

Use this as a starting point, then return to the track, record, or score in a different setting. Good music usually gives back more when the second listen is slower.

Not just background music: the art of the soundtrack

How exactly does the art of music-making change when it becomes a small part of a much larger video game or feature film? And what makes the soundtrack of Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse so remarkable? Alex Walden is on hand to reveal all.

One of the things that I love most about music is that it’s entirely subjective. There’s no genetic influence on what type of music you enjoy or what you look for in music; it’s completely down to just what your brain likes and that’s what makes it so unique. There’s complete freedom over what songs you like, what you like about music and what music you prefer to listen to while experiencing specific emotions. Take me for example: I can go from Kanye West to Nirvana straight to Jorja Smith like its nothing. Music’s ability to merge its way into any and every situation in life is one of the best things about it. So, what happens when entertainment corporations begin to realise this? The simple answer is that you get soundtracks, a collection of songs which feature sometimes extensive lists of artists from the same genre who are recruited to essentially convey to you how a project should sound. If done well, these soundtracks can become a great way to further indulge yourself into a corporation’s project. But what makes a soundtrack so good? By looking at some of my favourite examples I hope to give you an insight into exactly that.

DOOM and the ability to immerse
To this day, the pair of unbranded plain grey headphones that my father bought for me as a Christmas gift years ago remain one of my essential items. The main reason for this is that they come with what was at the time a new feature known Active Noise Cancelling. Although I found this feature amazing when I first experienced it, it made me appreciate the idea of having music as background noise more. For example, as I’m typing this right now on my busted AirPods at about 60% volume in my silent room I can still hear the tapping sound of my fingers on my laptop, which is helping me from becoming completely focused on this Slum Village album, whilst helping me focus on what I’m writing. The addition of music is sometimes the crucial piece needed to allow a consumer to become immersed in entertainment and Mick Gordan’s DOOM soundtrack is a prime example of this.

For those who don’t know, DOOM is a video game series which has been going since 1993. What started out as a simple arcade-style shooter has gradually progressed in recent years to become one of the most intense games ever released. You can only imagine how intense a game set on Mars with your primary objective to kill everything in sight in increasingly gruesome ways could be. Filled with fast paced action and highly detailed combat sequences, this game series has earned its place as one of my favourite game series to play. The game itself may be great, but the soundtrack is the driving force as to why this game is so special.

DOOM‘s original release dates back to 1993

As you tread through the game’s map you are given a subtle warning as a stream of white noise and bass tones hit you. In addition these sounds have been completely transformed by an extensive list of phasers, pedals, distortion boxes, reverb effects and many more. These short stretches of music are known as stems and are designed to give you an uneasy feeling of dread. It forces your brain to tell you “I don’t know what’s up ahead but whatever it is, it’s going to a be a lot”. As soon as the combat starts, the game’s techno-based sounds are completely thrown out the window, now replaced with no-nonsense metal. The addition of heavy metal music which accompanies a swarm of demons as they head directly towards you forces your body to produce a surge of adrenaline as you try fight your way through the horde.

Mick Gordon’s idea of combining metal with electronic sounding drums and heavily altered stems is not only genius, but also extremely difficult to pull off. Metal music has always been a violent badass and extremely niche category of music. It’s aggressive, fast paced and resembles everything about this new generation of music that your grandma hates. However, the fact that metal is so niche that can be its downfall sometimes. There are occasions metal fans don’t like when their genre is mixed in with more cliché genres such as techno. They feel as if their music is being watered down or that the people who make it are just doing it for money, not just the love of music. Yet Mick Gordon is able to use just the right amount of techno influence in extremely heavy basslines to add that extra kick that makes the music hit that bit more. I mean seriously – the drums and guitar riffs in this game are completely unmatched. It sounds something far beyond the capabilities of some video game composer from Australia.

Sometimes I need to pause DOOM… either I need to turn my volume down or I feel way out of my depth.

There have been times when I’ve had to pause the game while in the middle of a combat scene. This is always because of two reasons: either I need to turn my volume down because I can feel a headache coming on, or I just feel way out of my depth and need a minute to gather myself before I jump back into the game. That’s why I love DOOM so much. I’ve never played a game where I feel as if I’m being mentally dragged right out of my comfort zone, pushing myself to my limits as I try to comprehend everything around me while also trying to stay alive. I assure you that without a soundtrack, this game wouldn’t feel the same. (No seriously, I’ve actually played the whole game on mute while I watch a show in the background). But with Mick Gordon’s remarkable background music blasting through my ears, my mind constantly bounces back and forth between the thoughts of how amazing a song is and how I’m currently flirting with death in my game right now. It’s as if the game is able to control my brain, messing with me so that I’ll find it all the more challenging to complete.

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse and the construction of fictional universes

It’s time I let you into my lives a little more now. I have to admit I’m practically in love with the Post Malone and Swae Lee song Sunflower. Ask anyone who knows me and they’ll tell you I have a borderline unhealthy addiction to this song. At the time of writing this, Sunflower is my most played song on Spotify since I created my account (that must say something considering that this I discovered this song 5 years after I first created my account). If I’m honest, I could easily write a whole dissertation level paper about how the movie, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, is a perfect movie but for now I’m going to attempt to restrain myself and try to only talk about why the soundtrack is able to help construct a fictional universe for the consumer.

Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse received widespread critical acclaim in 2018 for its creative storytelling and hit-filled soundtrack

Spider-Man Into the Spider-Verse is, in my opinion, the best spider-man film made to date. The story follows Black and Puerto-Rican teen Miles Morales as he begins his journey at the Brooklyn Visions Academy. It’s clear from the beginning that Miles isn’t a huge fan of the academy and feels pressured to live up to his father’s expectations. However, while hanging out with his Uncle Aaron, Miles’ entire world gets completely flipped upside down when he gets bitten by a radioactive spider. I’ll spare you my synopsis of this film, but seriously there’s practically and endless list as to why I love this movie so much. One of the key things I always notice is that like most teens in this day and age, Miles gets anxious and things can feel mentally out of his control very quickly. It’s through music that Miles is able to calm himself down, which I know is a very common practice for people who struggle with anxiety, so we naturally relate to him because we see he’s just a kid underneath the mask.

One of the best decisions Marvel made was constructing this specific movie soundtrack. We feel as if we’re being brought into Miles’ world. With tracks like What’s Up Danger and Start a Riot we get the textbook high energy songs that let our minds wander and draw up our own Spidey-themed scenarios in our heads, but with tracks such as Sunflower, Invincible and Scared of the Dark we’re brought into Miles’ personal life. Behind all the vigilante stunts, he’s really just a kid from Brooklyn. It’s through this that were able to build a connection with Miles and we feel as if we actually know him – after all, we know his music taste, his character traits, and his biggest secret.

It’s through the soundtrack that we’re about to build a connection with Miles. We see he’s just a kid underneath his mask.

One of the most common issues with movie soundtracks today is that, although companies tend to recruit artists who are in the mainstream scene at the time, it often sounds forced and cringey because let’s face it, the number one rule with any creative passion is that it shouldn’t be forced because everyone can tell when it’s not from the heart. I’ve even read up on cases where artists have been paid to name drop specific brands in their lyrics. People can tell if you have a genuine passion for something or if you’re just doing it for clout. But with Into the Spider-Verse’s soundtrack, Marvel managed to group together artists who fit quite well in the hip hop and pop rap categories, so for them this was just another song for them to write. In particular, you can hear how good the genuine chemistry is between Post and Swae throughout the song Sunflower. It’s probably why Post decided to take Swae Lee on tour with him after the songs release.

mid90s and cultural representation

If you would’ve told me when I was a kid that hip hop would become one of the most popular genres of music in the future, including the number one in America at one point, I would’ve thought that you were talking complete nonsense and I’d have fair reason to. Up until 2016, hip hop was seen as the outcast genre. It was viewed as the genre which your kids should avoid and hip hop artists were deemed to have no valid musical talent. One of my other favourite hobbies as a kid which also got a bad rep was skateboarding. I grew up in the era of skateboarding where the days of kids watching Tony Hawk blast off crazy huge ramps and go around pools were starting to fade as street skating grew in popularity. This obviously led to skateboarding being viewed as a reckless sport which some people even saw as a crime. The representations of these two interests of mine are why they used to be home to quite niche communities, which is the same reason they ended up getting represented so poorly in mainstream media, because the people who write about it often don’t know anything about it. Despite this, there is the odd moment where it’s done well and mid90s is a prime example of how it’s done perfectly.

Jonah Hill gave all the kids on set real iPods to listen to 90s hip hop on. As someone who skates, this is a major victory.

The story of mid90s is relatively simple. It follows 13-year-old Stevie (Sunny Suljic) as he navigates his way through summer accompanied by a troubling home life and a group of friends he meets at the local skate shop. What I like most about this film is that it accurately represents the skate community by showing all skaters are different; hell, some of the skaters in this film are in their teens while some are just kids. It’s not just some attempt at seeming edgy for a money grab. In fact, all the people who play skaters in mid90s were skating way before they were acting. You can find them on the Illegal Civ YouTube channel which is what makes this movie so comforting to watch you feel as if you’re just watching some kids skate. It doesn’t feel like you’re watching some scripted attempt at making skating seem rebellious and edgy.

mid90s marked Jonah Hill’s directorial debut in 2018

One of the best aspects of this film is that it features music from the time that the film is set. As a matter of fact, director Jonah Hill gave all of the kids on set iPods which were all filled with songs that he used to listen to growing up in the 90s. Many of the songs on these iPods were from artists such as Pixies, Wu Tang Clan and The Pharcyde who were also featured during the movie. Now, to the average viewer this would just be seen as a method to help add to a scene, but as someone who skates this is a major victory. I remember hearing 93 ’til Infinity by Souls of Mischief and Put It On by Big L and feeling surprised that a movie about skating was using songs that actual skaters listen to. My friends and I actually listen to some of these songs on the regular and I’m hearing it in this movie? It felt weird at first but then it felt great realising that the director, who had decided to bring quite a small sport to the big screen, had actually nailed the portrayal of skaters and had taken the steps necessary to do so. Not only that, but thanks to mid90s I was able to discover loads of new artists and songs. After watching the movie, one of the first things I did was find a Spotify playlist with all the songs featured in the movie. I was blessed with Spotfiy’s own official mid90s playlist which even included small anecdotes from Jonah Hill himself. It was through this playlist that I was able to discover golden era hip hop and how as well as good music, it doubled as an awesome soundtrack for skating. I remember trying to skate around my neighbourhood while listening artists such as Raekwon, Nirvana and, now one of my favourite groups of all time, A Tribe Called Quest. It was through times like this that I was able to explore skate culture which has become one of the best parts about my daily life. Of course, there were other instances as to why I had discovered skating, like the famous Tony Hawk games, but I feel as if it weren’t for mid90s I wouldn’t have been able to link together this fun hobby with one of my favourite things in the world, music, which has led to skating and skate culture becoming a huge part of me.


So there you have it: three examples of how a soundtrack can become a valuable feature of any project. I feel like often soundtracks can get overlooked by some who just view it as an accessory and I will admit that sometimes it can fit that description if poorly constructed, yet I hope that these three examples of iconic soundtracks have helped you realise that soundtracks can often be underrated. Maybe it’s just my habit of having a particular interest the little things and small details talking for me, who knows? What I do know though, is that next time you go watch a movie or play a video game or even go somewhere with your friends or family and you feel some extreme emotion whether it be joy, sadness, anger, or any other variation of mood, pay attention to what music is playing in the background or the songs that you play that day. You might make some amazing memories which you can then attach to a specific song. That is what makes soundtracks so amazing.

New Music Notes: Indie, Jazz and Electronic Sounds to Keep Close

Indie jazz and electronic music desk collage

The most interesting listening right now is happening between categories. Indie records are borrowing the patience of ambient music, jazz players are leaning into club rhythms, and electronic producers are making tracks that feel more handmade than programmed. That middle ground is where a lot of the best music lives.

Indie music is getting quieter and stranger

The strongest indie songs at the moment are not always the biggest ones. Many of them work through restraint: dry drums, close vocals, guitars that sound like they were recorded in a room rather than polished into glass. That intimacy gives the songs character.

Jazz keeps moving outward

Modern jazz continues to thrive when it treats tradition as a starting point rather than a museum. Groove-led playing, electronic textures and shorter song forms can all sit comfortably beside improvisation. The result is music that feels serious without becoming sealed off from everyday listening.

Electronic music is embracing warmth

There is still plenty of maximal electronic music around, but the warmer end of the spectrum feels especially rewarding. Dusty percussion, imperfect synth tones and patient arrangements are giving producers more emotional range than the cleanest possible mix ever could.

For Music Boats, that combination feels like the right direction: thoughtful listening without losing energy, and genre coverage that follows the sound rather than the label.