Like many who have loved and left New York City, I dearly miss the transportation setup there. The walkability, the trains, the buses—there's not another town in the U.S. where you can do so much (and get so far) easily and without needing a car of your own. Though my 16-year-old self would have scarcely believed it, those years on the subway convinced me of the superiority of life without a car. Even though I look back fondly at my days as a straphanger, my return to the driver's world has reminded me of an undeniable truth: Riding around in the car while blaring music you love is the absolute shit.
Few pleasures in life can match the joy I feel when I plop into the driver's seat, queue up an album, pull out of the driveway, and embark on a medium-length drive while shouting lyrics and mangling melodies. The bliss of bobbing my head and contorting my face, throwing around my hands and popping my shoulders, lets me attain that uninhibited state otherwise reserved for when I'm certain nobody is watching... or when I'm too inebriated to care. I don't think it's a coincidence that I’ve been listening to way more music since leaving NYC. There, podcasts seemed like a more fitting soundtrack to my daily commute, due to the sonic inferiority of my cheap earbud headphones and my self-conscious refusal to come off like an especially terrible Showtime act if I grooved to my music there the same way I do in private. I can't say that my rekindled passion for listening to new music in the car is an even trade for walking or riding the subway instead of driving. But it does come pretty damn close.
Ideal music-driving conditions for me are when I can be alone in the car for a decent but not overly long stretch—right about an hour is perfect—and am not in any kind of rush. Unfortunately these conditions are hard for me to come by: Outside of short errand runs, I'm almost always in the car with my wife and/or our toddler. There is enough musical taste overlap in our family to allow me to play stuff I genuinely like on those drives (thank you, Bad Bunny), but in order to avoid toddler tears and wifely wrath, I know better than to play my most abrasive artists (oh, Playboi Carti and Lil B, how I miss you) at the loudest volumes, or to accompany what's playing with my most unhinged performances.
Thankfully, there are exceptions. A few weeks ago I accidentally left my laptop at my in-laws' place after a weekend stayover, and my Monday morning drive to pick it up gave me about an hour alone in the car. On the way there, I put on Brazilian funk producer DJ LK Da VB's psychotically aggressive album 30XMAGO. I hadn't been able to give the album as many spins as I'd like, in part because of my usual carmates. Reader, I had the time of my life on that drive. The trip really drove home just how awesome it is to DJ your own personal, portable music festival, especially when you know the audience is right there with you on every song.
That ride sparked a hypothetical setlist for similar times: alone in the car with a long drive ahead of me and the time to luxuriate in my ongoing funk obsession. Please enjoy this playlist of grimy, hair-raising, punishingly harsh Brazilian funk songs, ideal for someone who might be craving a good freakout without anyone around to harsh your vibe.
