1. Dummy – Portishead (1994)
This is the rare kind of music that constructs a full-on atmospheric landscape. I have a DVD box of Buffy The Vampire Slayer, and I’ve been in love with its menu: it’s an animated cemetery at night that leads us through it by a flying vision and a close perception. I love to watch those fast times over and over again, it makes me feel like I’m there, a bit afraid but sure that everything would be alright, so I would walk all over it and be friends with its ghosts, because my intuition didn’t tell me it was a danger, or what so ever. I love this kind of absurd pleasure of feeling safe in a dark place. And this albums draws me and gives me this.
2. Souvlaki – Slowdive (1993)
I feel like this is like being in love, but a melancholic kind of love. The love for a single moment that you know will never come back. You don’t know if you love the person, but you’re obsessively sure that you loved the person inside the moment with all of your heart. The moment’s gone, but you can hear the wind, you can feel your skin collide with its words, you can study the littlest things of it again and again. It’s a state of being with somebody else and loving the person and the space equally. It’s forever virtual, and it hurts… In the littlest way. This album is the soundtrack for it and is my spirit album and if you like it you’re liking me, so hello my friend! (PS: The first 3 tracks KILL ME. Seriously, I can’t even think of imagining of wishing to explain how much I love these tracks. I want to have four kids and two dogs with this album).
3. Bloom – Beach House (2012)
“Can’t keep hanging on, to all that’s dead and gone” from the first track “Myth”. It sums this album to me, but not in such a direct way. You know when you’re halfway from blacking out of falling asleep and you feel perturbed in a very gentle way, you think things together totally out of its contexts, you’re delirious about texture and waves and all that is calming, but the back of your mind is aware of of how drugged you are, “don’t believe it, don’t believe it, just sleep and you’ll be dry tomorrow”, but you rather dive into it, into the greatest escape that you won’t remember the next day but you will cling into this feelings when you’re feeling empty, but it’s unhealthy, you “can’t keep hanging on to all that’s dead and gone”, especially if it had never been born.
4. OK Computer – Radiohead (1997)
Jesus Christ, I love this album so much. The first song, “Airbag”, means so much to me, in such exciting painful ways. And that’s what this album means to me: it’s chaotic and sweet, it makes you feel good for feeling so bad, and I think this feeling is the most powerful feeling to have through survival. Won’t matter if you’re sad or happy, you’ll feel, and that’s all you’ll need to stay alive. And when I say “stay alive” I don’t mean not dying, I mean not being a living dead. Hell’s untouchable as we speak, but we can easily make our own hell at anytime, our hell of void, so approachable and attaching. But if we feel, if we feel anything at all, then there’s no hell that can take us, and this album means it to me, this albums looks like a dance with drumming ghosts.
5. The Stone Roses – The Stone Roses (1989)
Some might say this isn’t eerie, but I think it is, because there’s loads of melancholy beneath its flames…You know those times when you’re supposed to be happy but you’re impossibly amused because you know that there’s a little monster inside of you that will only be pleased by a full-on shake on its digestible happiness. But the monster is only inside, so by your outside you are only a fake smile and low sarcastic commentaries, you are too weak to tear it all, so you have a blast within yourself, you laugh with your monster strong enough until you realize that you’re fully this monster and you’re freaking free, out of the suppositions, so you go as they try to exorcise th best of you… It’s about being considered a bad kid for bad people, so after all you’re damn good.