I was 13 when I got a second hole pierced in my ears. It had been a pretty typical day of school, followed by a trip to the Monmouth Mall with my first boyfriend Zach, accompanied by his younger sister Peri and chaperoned by his mom Stacey. We ran rampant through Hot Topic, sifting from band t-shirt to band t-shirt to band t-shirt, giggling at the vaguely sexual keychains at Spencer’s Gifts (not yet understanding why a bear with a ball gag and leather briefs was funny or what it meant), and landing at Piercing Pagoda. Ah yes, Piercing Pagoda; The kiosk embedded somewhere between The Gap and Aéropostale that allowed disillusioned and unamused high schoolers looking for extra income access to piercing guns and, judging by the multiple piercings they each had themselves, a pretty rad employee discount. Supposedly with my mom’s blessing (the details are fuzzy), both Zach and I got pierced that day. I got simple titanium balls, increasing my piercing count from a modest and girly 2 to a very rock ‘n roll 4 (what a goddamn badass), and he got his left lobe pierced with a very cool looking black tungsten stud. When I came home later that day, slurping on the remnants of my food court Pepsi and feeling quite chuffed, I walked into a shitstorm. My dad went totally ballistic and my sister started crying, telling me I looked like a freak. It is here where I would like to state for the record that my sister did end up getting a second hole pierced in her ears a few years later, but I digress – I was punished (the conditions of this punishment I can’t recall) and I was absolutely pissed off. Why should anyone tell me what I can do with my body? They were my ears, and I would get them pierced if I wanted to! I was like, 13 years old, which is basically an adult anyway. Why was “because I said so” anywhere close to a legitimate reason to be sequestered to my room? This, I would say, was the extent of my teenage rebellion. I was a pretty straight laced, rule-following kid. I did go against the grain a little, wearing mostly black, owning a plethora of the aforementioned Hot Topic t-shirts donning the logos of my favorite bands, and sporting those studded leather cuffs that told the world – nee, my middle school classmates – that I definitely didn’t give a fuck about how popular they were and that they didn’t accept me, even though I secretly did.

Growing up comes with its share of, well, growing pains. There’s a lot of fumbling on the road to self-discovery. The overarching theme of Lewis Carroll’s “Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland” (more colloquially “Alice In Wonderland”) is growing up. In the text, Alice struggles with identity, explores curiosity in her journey, and learns to adhere to conformity and authority in order to rise through the social ranks, represented by the Red Queen. Depicted as an erratic tyrant and a sadist, it can be said that the Red Queen exemplifies the establishment, the class system, and the principle that actions have consequences and at times punishment – whether just or unjust. One thing I think we can all agree on is that the older we get, the less we want to be told what to do. For some, the questioning of authority starts a little sooner than others. This can be authority from parents, teachers, bosses, cops, and of course, the United States Government. It’s argued that rules and regulations aim to keep the general populous safe, to retain order and mitigate chaos. However, challenging authority is innately part of the human experience. Life is our greatest and most significant game of “choose your own adventure”, the likes of which I certainly don’t want a bunch of old white men dictating every aspect of for me (especially as a woman, especially in 2023). But nothing really brought the experience of challenging authority and convention to the forefront of society with the intense vigor and piss and vinegar of punk rock. I’ll define the societal meaning of punk and shed light on the origins of the movement at large; But for a more well-rounded grasp on what punk means, I went straight to the source, interviewing some of the most badass colleagues I know. I’ve had the pleasure to work very closely with both Michele and Austin who both grew up during the apex of the punk movement. Naturally, I needed to know more about their experience and their individual perspective, how punk has shaped them as individuals, and what it truly means to embody the punk ethos. Austin remembers his initial exposure to punk, when a girl he had a crush on gave him a mixtape, which he says was “full of pretty much every artist on the Lookout! Records roster at the time from Screeching Weasel to Green Day.” His first punk show was Offspring. “[It was] just as their album Smash was released and Rancid opened. I met a bunch of kids about a year or two younger than me at that show, but went to my high school and really started to feel that sense of community that comes with the scene. A couple years later I helped a friend with a zine and started my own, and got to interview a ton of bands that were fantastic and became friendly with many I stay in touch with to this day.” From then on, he was pretty much fully immersed. Michele grew up in the post-punk era. Yearning to play drums since the age of 6, but given a violin in the school band instead, she finally got those drum lessons at age 23 (her drum teacher’s first female student) when she moved to the Lower East Side of Manhattan, and has rocked in bands like Flowers Inside and Loki the Grump ever since. Michele recalled her first show, which was the catalyst to her concert obsession. “It was Billy Idol at the local college where my friend’s sister went. She took us – we wore matching black plastic/nylon outfits and thought we were cool (we weren’t). I’m pretty sure we were the youngest kids there. The show was AMAZING,” Michelle recalls. “A small venue, packed, and so exciting. By the end of his tour his album blew up and he added arena shows to the end. Went to one of those, too. Still great, but nothing like the college venue show. After that I went a bit concert-crazy…when we could get a ride of course.”

The punk subculture of the 1970’s itself encompassed not only music, but also art, literature, film, and fashion, and was a giant middle finger in the face of concepts that America abided by such as gentrification, white supremacy, consumerism, and capitalism (you know, the building blocks of this great nation). According to National Geographic’s Simon Ingram, “the word punk was originally an archaic term for a prostitute – ‘Puncke’ was used by Shakespeare as such in Measure by Measure, though ambiguously – and was later a common slang term for any kind of miscreant, or charismatic, good-for-nothing threat to authority.” Punk was all about nonconformity and individuality, advocating for causes and concepts such as free thought, animal rights and gender and racial equality…which sound a lot like modern Liberalism. Punk rock was rooted in what was then called garage rock, which was characterized by a rough and fuzzy sound, simple chord structures, and aggressive lyrics with a nasal tone that sometimes came with an arrogant snarl. New York’s Lower East Side (and specifically the iconic music venues CBGB and Max’s Kansas City) was where it’s said that punk rock was born; Out of frustration with adhering to the status quo, rising rent prices, oppressive regulations and overall mounting classist and racist ideologies, punks wrote music that reflected the growing dissent of the American youth. Some of the earliest and most recognizable American punk bands were The Ramones, The New York Dolls and The Stooges whose sound swept the nation and resonated with so many of the discontented youth. Across the pond, London’s own punk scene was making strides with The Sex Pistols, The Damned, and The Clash. But aside from the punk rock sound, London was the place that solidified the look of punk. Chains, spikes, safety pins, tartan, and clothes with rips and tears were staples in the punk community, spearheaded by now fashion icon Vivienne Westwood and then-partner Malcolm McLaren (also then-manager of The Sex Pistols) at their King’s Road shop SEX. According to Marie Claire’s Kat Lister, it “was a backlash against the etherealness established by the late sixties’ Summer of Love ethos – all waves, flares, drapes, peace and love. In its place came super tight jeans, leather jackets, ripped tees, sweat and anger.” 

The music itself was the soundtrack to the dissent and frustration of the youth at the time. Rebelling against showy, elitist and star-focused bands like The Rolling Stones with that cocky, pillow-lipped motherfucker Mick Jagger peacocking around, punk music sounded a lot like, well, just noise. At its roots, punk cut out all the bullshit excess. “Eliminate the unnecessary and focus on the substance,” as Tommy Ramone once said. Via Simon Ingram again, “Punk rock, when it arrived, was edgy, brief and unpolished, with unpredictable and chaotic live performances which sometimes ignited pent up crowds into violence. Out went virtuoso solos and twinkly stagecraft: musicianship came second to attitude, and the feeling of accessibility – that those on stage weren’t couched and pampered rock stars, but just someone with struggles, frustrations and something to say.” The lyrical content of most formative punk songs sought to bring attention to societal privilege, global crises, political corruption, and acted as a call to arms in some respects. While some may argue that punk is simply an ethos, it is nearly impossible to separate politics from punk. Punk birthed a new wave of activists, accompanied by a soundtrack of rage and angst personified. Punk had roots and drew influence from more mainstream genres, such as rockabilly, reggae, and, even in some cases, country. The evolution of punk birthed a multitude of sub-genres; Hardcore married together thrash metal and punk to make a louder, faster, meaner, and more aggressive sound that definitely worried parents everywhere (examples being Misfits, Black Flag, and Minor Threat). Post-punk bands like Joy Division and The Cure experimented with production techniques used in jazz, dub, funk and disco and melded with more intellectual pursuits like art, literature and philosophy. Pop-punk was arguably the most mainstream product of the punk movement and now more likely grace the car stereo’s Contemporary Hit Radio or even [gulp] Classic Rock station (think Green Day, the Offspring, and Jimmy Eat World). Punk is also regarded as the forefather of Grunge, the musical and cultural phenomenon of the late 80’s and early-mid 90’s; We can thank Naked Raygun for injecting punk directly into the veins of Nirvana drummer/Foo Fighters frontman Dave Grohl, who has since for years adamantly gushed over the Melvins, the Pixies, and Hüsker Dü among others and the influence they had on his music. 

While punk might encompass fashion and music that bear the same name, Michele argues that punk is more than what meets the eye (and the ear). “In general I consider ‘punk’ to be a state of heart/mind as opposed to conforming to a way of dress or very specific music (other people most likely don’t agree — but I don’t give a rat’s ass!). It’s doing what I want, dressing how I want, listening to whatever I want without anybody else dictating what should or should not be. But that was an epiphany that happened after feeling for a long time like I had to do the same as everyone else, otherwise I wouldn’t be ‘accepted’ in the scene.” Recalling a specific incident in college, Michele elaborates further, “it was a very, very hot day and I said ‘fuck it’ and wore a very plain grey tank top and shorts outfit with my black Chucks, no makeup, very little jewelry, hair up in a ponytail…all of which was not my typical way of dress at the time. This one guy (who I knew through the alternative scene) dressed in his leather boots, black jeans, and leather jacket came up to me and very nastily said, ‘What…did you get a college transfusion?’ And then he just turned and started walking away. I remember at first I felt really embarrassed – probably turned an interesting shade of crimson, but then almost immediately I got really angry and yelled after him, ‘I didn’t realize I had to conform to be a nonconformist!’ The freedom I felt after that was incredible. [That] changed everything for me. And that’s what punk now means to me…freedom to be who you are!” Austin shares that sentiment of individuality and self-expression, emphasizing that within that collective unbothered attitude, community is also created. “There was always a fashion element to it, but the real draw to me was the community”, says Austin. “I actually think that has gotten stronger over the years as initially it was very segregated between subgenres like pop punk, crust punk, hardcore, and the mainstreaming that happened in the mid-90’s with Green Day, Offspring and the punk explosion. I always found  an element of punk ethic across many genres beyond ‘Punk’, especially in industrial and metal of that era, but that definitely was not the popular opinion back then, so I guess I was pretty punk. Ha!”

While on its face punk may seem hyper-masculine, make no mistake that women were an integral part of the punk crusade. Though it came at the latter part of the punk movement, the Riot Grrrl subculture and subsequent subgenre was the original battle cry of “girl power” before the Spice Girls kicked it with their platform boots into the global lexicon and covered it in bright pink and glitter. Via Mia Avendano of wav zine, “Riot grrrl ideologies focus on equality for all genders and a fight against gender based violence. Many Riot Grrrl groups were known to host meetings and chapters that aimed to support and uplift women in the punk scene, which still occur today.” Izzypedego of wav zine elaborates further: “Bikini Kill and Bratmobile were two of the big driving forces in the Riot Grrrl movement in the early ‘90s. They recognized that if you wanted something to come to fruition in a punk scene, your best bet was to communicate it through music. At their shows, performers often called for ‘all girls to the front,’ to encourage participation of women in the crowds at punk shows, where they were often harassed or overlooked.” Some of my favorite vitriolic lyrics of the riot grrrl era come from Bratmobile’s “Do You Like Me Like That”, wherein Allison Wolfe sings, “The only thing you know is your rich boy world/You’re talking politics on your pedestal/And you half-baked idea of ‘what it means to be a girl’/But you can’t feel how we suffer or we bleed/You can’t give us what we want, much less what we need.” Simply put, men ain’t shit. Austin is even helping to rear the next generation of riot grrrls, bringing his 8 year old daughter to shows like The Interrupters & Frank Turner. Needless to say, she’s got the coolest dad. Michele uses her punk roots to give back and do good, having been a long-time member of an organization called Girls Rock & Girls Rule, founded by her friend Gail Silverman. “The mission of GRGR was to get girls and women inspired to learn how to play instruments and get out and play some music”, said Michele. “We played so many shows, organized and went on two tours, with local female rockers on each bill in addition to our 4 bands. It was full female empowerment! We raised money for Willie Mae Rock Camp, Habitat for Humanity Women Build, and VOW which deals with domestic abuse.”

Growing up in an innately capitalist, misogynist and classist society, it may be hard to forge your own path. Conformity is easy – you follow the White Rabbit down the hole and let the Red Queen tell you what to do, lest your head get cut off, right? Wrong. If punk has taught us anything, it is to challenge authority, stand up for what you believe in, demand change, create waves, and make friends and enemies along the way. In the end, the Mad Hatters might be the sanest of them all. From my first brush with rebellion 20 years ago to present-day with 7 piercings (and 2 tattoos) total, I’ve obviously grown a lot, doing things my way, even when told I shouldn’t or couldn’t. Enjoy the accompanying playlist, in which I created a fun little rollercoaster through the evolution of punk rock. I’ll leave you with Austin’s resonant message from years of embodying the punk lifestyle: “Find your path, find your community, support them, support the marginalized and fight alongside them, be an ally, listen and learn to form new ideas and continue to grow. Sounds like hippy stuff, right, but nah, it’s punk as F@&%.” – NV

_{Nicole is Sr. Manager, New Release Content at Warner Music Group. She lives in Jersey City, NJ and loves Oreos, puppies, and the smell of laundry.}

The post Perspectives on Punk Rock appeared first on Karjaka Magazine.

The post Perspectives on Punk Rock appeared first on Karjaka Magazine.

The pairing of food and music is a partnership for the ages. Classical composers like Mozart wrote music specifically intended to be what we would come to call “dinner music”. Entertainment and dining were synonymous with each other; Royalty and the uber wealthy would have in-house minstrels and orchestras, on call and tuned up and ready to crank out hits for whatever decadent feast was being prepared. Think about it…eating in complete silence just hits different, and not in the good way, like Sprite from the McDonalds fountain as opposed to the can. There have been very few instances where I’ve enjoyed a meal without accompaniment of some kind, from the dollar slice corner joint blasting EDM at 1am, to the authentic Mexican taqueria and their abuelita’s staticky AM/FM radio blaring mariachi music, to the ever-upscale Michelin starred Alinea or Per Se playing delicate contemporary tunes. Music and food go together like peanut butter and jelly…so let’s make some sandwiches.

Let’s get some science out of the way and talk pitch. Pitch has been proven to affect the way we taste. A study published in the National Library of Medicine concluded that “listening to a lower-pitched soundscape can help to emphasize the bitter notes in a bittersweet toffee while listening to a soundscape with a higher pitch tends to bring out its sweetness”. The study published by Crisinel & Spence was mostly rooted in synesthesia, the phenomenon where your senses are intertwined. Translated from Greek, it means “perceive together”. People with synesthesia associate words or sounds with colors or numbers, even smells. For example, you may hear the name “Ryan” and visualize the color purple, or see a square and associate it with the smell of gardenia. In this particular study, “participants in the experiment reported here also chose the type of musical instrument most appropriate for each taste/flavor. The association of sweet and sour tastes to high-pitched notes was confirmed. By contrast, umami and bitter tastes were preferentially matched to low-pitched notes”. That could explain why certain music akin to Ariana Grade and Mariah Carey is played at ice cream shops. I remember working at a Cold Stone Creamery in high school, which was the only job I was ever required to “audition” for, singing a few lines of The Beatles “Hold Me Tight” to prove I could carry a tune for tips. Now every time I hear “Freedom” by Wham!, I can’t help but smell the sugar cones baking on the waffle iron. In fact, I think I got a cavity just thinking about it. The tempo of music can also affect the pace at which you eat. Every morning I line up my daily queue of podcasts to listen to while I eat my breakfast. One day, I noticed that I had quite literally vacuumed up my omelet and was feeling a little sick. Then I remembered that I listen to my podcasts at 1.5 speed (because she’s an efficient queen with a thirst for knowledge, baby) which could be the reason I ate my eggs like Joey Chestnut at the Coney Island hot dog eating contest on a regular shmegular Tuesday. So instead of listening to Dream Theater while having dinner, I generally opt for something a little less chaotic like the romantic cooing of Bruno Major. 

Restaurants will usually choose their music based on this principle as well; It’s all about ambiance and atmosphere, and music is a huge part of a restaurant’s identity. In the 1920’s the jukebox gained popularity in restaurants and soda jerks, incentivising patrons to stay longer and spend more money to hear the music they handpicked, but their popularity didn’t come without contempt. In Jan Whittaker’s article on music in restaurants, “adults shunned these cafes, and neighbors complained about loudness. Fights broke out over musical selections. The jukebox took on associations of low life”. The classic image of that lovable degenerate The Fonz of Happy Days’ fame wasn’t too far off…these kids and their rock n’ roll music were corrupting America one establishment at a time, making way for the more controlled, family-friendly (and arguably more boring) Muzak. Now, Muzak is “The World’s #1 Music Provider”, boasting an excess of 500k corporate clients. There are also some restaurants that cater specifically to the taste of their staff, which tends to blend with that of their patrons. Peter Meehan of the New York Times said of Babbo, “regulars [at Babbo] are accustomed to having plates of black spaghetti with rock shrimp served with an audible side of whatever Mario Batali likes, as loud as he likes, whenever he likes”. Restaurateur Danny Meyer finds the music in restaurants to be a vital organ, saying, “Just like I wouldn’t outsource one of my restaurants’ wine lists, I would never outsource the music”. 

Whether you’ve got an artfully curated playlist of dinner songs ready for your next gathering or you’re just going to let someone else play Aux Cord Lord, there’s no denying that music has a tremendous part to play in setting the vibe in relation to food. A wedding guest will always remember the food and the music; If one of those sucks, you’ve got yourself a pretty shitty wedding, despite the couple’s undying love for each other and the $8k they might have spent on flowers alone. A sad salad under fluorescent lights at your corporate desk can feel like a king’s feast with the right soundtrack. And speaking of soundtracks, whoever was in charge of music for season 2 of The Bear needs a serious raise, because when I heard Liz Phair “Supernova” during the finale, I said to myself, “damn I’d eat there if it was a real restaurant”. Now as you know (and hopefully have come to love), there will be a playlist to go along with this article. Every single song either has food names in the title or has something to do with eating. Get yourself something delicious, prepare those utensils, and press play. Hope you’re ready to chow down…bon appetit, friends. -NV

_{Nicole is Sr. Manager, New Release Content at Warner Music Group. She lives in Jersey City, NJ and loves Oreos, puppies, and the smell of laundry.}

The post Music to Munch On appeared first on Karjaka Magazine.

I woke up in the middle of the night, my heart racing as I gasped for air. I’d just had a nightmare that jolted me out of an otherwise sound sleep. As I lay on my back in an attempt to coax myself into a return to slumberland, my mind raced with only the low buzz of the ceiling fan above accompanying. A few hours passed with no relief, until I decided it was time to turn on my AM/FM radio (bear in mind, it was the early 2000’s). In the dark, I fumbled with the dial and adjusted the antenna to alleviate the static until I found an AM radio station playing classical music. Almost immediately, I felt the knots in my chest unwind and the tension I felt ease. Enveloped by orchestras and pianists playing Debussy, Greig and Liszt, I was lulled into a slumber. To this day, I can always count on Clair de lune to calm me down. 

It should come as no surprise that music has been scientifically proven to reduce stress. Specifically, music can lower cortisol levels in the body. Cortisol is known as “the stress hormone” and can affect so many parts of the body. Not only does cortisol increase glucose levels in the bloodstream, but according to Mayo Clinic, it “alters immune system responses and suppresses the digestive system, the reproductive system and growth processes”. So essentially, increased levels of cortisol can negatively affect the body from aiding in unwanted weight gain to increasing risk of anxiety, depression, memory and concentration impairment, heart disease, and sleep issues…and who the hell needs any of that in this economy? You can do a few things to decrease your cortisol levels, including exercising and limiting caffeine consumption. But even if you’re a self-proclaimed couch potato or certified coffee fanatic, I have great news for you: music can help! 

The National Center for Biotechnology Information cites a study where 60 healthy female volunteers average around age 25 were exposed to stressors and were given music, sounds of running water, and rest without acoustic stimulation. Their findings concluded that “music listening impacted the psychobiological stress system. Listening to music prior to a standardized stressor predominantly affected the autonomic nervous system (in terms of a faster recovery), and to a lesser degree the endocrine and psychological stress response”. The science behind how music works can also help us see on a more granular level how it benefits us. Music comes to us as vibrations. As these vibrations pass through the inner ear, they’re translated into electrical signals, which make their way via neurons to the cerebral cortex. We have multiple regions of the brain that translate these signals (tone, frequency, rhythm) and the different parts of the brain work collaboratively to mash all of these signals together, resulting in decreased stress and increased endorphins and dopamine. That’s the lab coat and goggles explanation that can help us understand why we feel the impulse to scream at the top of our lungs at rock concerts; Why the thump of the bass at Brooklyn Mirage or underground EDM clubs that ripples through our bodies provides comfort and spine tingles. Even something as simple as singing along in the car during a road trip, the sun streaking the windshield, feels like therapy. It’s because, well, it basically is. 

One of my personal favorite ways to mitigate stress is by listening to binaural beats. A binaural beat is an illusion created when two slightly different tones are played in tandem (usually in headphones), and the brain perceives a third tone to exist, the frequency of which fits snugly between the two tones being played. According to Psychology Today, “In order to produce a binaural beat, the two tones sounded in the ears must both have frequencies below 1,500 Hz with a difference of no greater than 40 Hz between them. The effects of the binaural beat will depend on its frequency and the corresponding brain wave”. You can test out binaural beats on YouTube using noise canceling headphones, or attend specialized meditation classes that utilize binaural beats. In my experience, I was able to reach an incredibly surreal transcendence at a binaural beats meditation, and I’ve been chasing that feeling of absolute solace ever since. 

I’ve compiled a playlist for you to help you reduce those stress levels, decrease your cortisol, and help you reach mental and emotional relief. We can all use a moment of calm in our day; Remember to take time for yourself, breathe, and tune into a frequency that will help you achieve mental, emotional, and physical clarity…and remember that mental health is wealth! – NV

The post Just Breathe with Nicole Vitale appeared first on Karjaka Magazine.

The things you inherit from your parents can be physical, psychological, and ideological. For instance, I got my mother’s little nose, her compassion, and her anxiety. My father gave me his speech cadence and his athletic endurance, as well as his smile. They both passed on their love of music in different ways. As a newborn, my dad would pick me up and dance with me along to CD’s; In one precious home video, he’s gently swaying me in his arms to Frankie Valli’s “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You”. My dad taught me how to play the drums when I was 8 years old and broadened my knowledge of classic rock, eagerly combing through his favorite albums track by track as I soaked up the knowledge like a little wide-eyed sponge. My mother schlepped me to Gymboree Play & Music classes as a toddler, taught me about disco while regaling me with stories about her wild nights at Studio 54, and cooed along with Karen Carpenter in the car. Of course with this running start, I continued on in my sonic exploration and pursuit of music that moved me. I often wonder how – if and when the time comes – I will give the gift of music to my children. Do I go through the alphabet from ABBA to ZZ Top? Where do I even start? How will my taste in music change? Will I, as a parent, get caught up in a perpetual loop of Sesame Street sing-along songs, bashing my head against a wall with no escape hatch in sight?

I’m not planning on reproducing anytime in the near future, but luckily for me I am friends with a number of fantastic new mothers that allowed me to pick their brains: Lily, Alyssa, and Lauren were all eager and helpful resources in my quest to figure out how the mind of a mother works in relation to music. I wanted to know their first memories tied to music, to really dig deep into where it all began for them. Lauren recalls a specific instance in her dad’s hatchback, driving down the highway. Her father couldn’t stand ‘kids’ music (i.e. Barney and Raffi) and would tell her brother and her for years that he physically couldn’t listen to it while he was driving or he’d fall asleep at the wheel. Reluctantly (and fearfully), they let him listen to his radio. “I was 4 years old. ‘Red Red Wine’ by UB40 came on. I must have heard it before because I began singing the lyrics. My dad looked at me through the rearview mirror, his eyes gleaming with pride, and asked me how I knew the words. Maybe that was the moment that started my obsession with learning all the lyrics to every song, which continues to persist to this day”. The car seemed to be a hotspot among us all for our formative music education, Alyssa specifically recalling hearing Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance With Somebody” and Bill Medley and Jennifer Warnes’ “(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life” in the car at 3 years old. Lily’s first core music memory was swinging on her swingset with her father to Ace of Base’s “The Sign” (it was her first cassette and she was obsessed with it). She distinctly remembers being gifted her first CD from her brother Eddie. “It was the Spice Girls CD. I think my brother got it for himself because he thought they were hot, didn’t really care for the music, and then gave it to me”.

Every mother’s experience with birth is different, and so too should be the music they choose to play in the moment. Some want comforting, soothing spa tunes and the musings of artists like Enya or Norah Jones, while others might opt for Slayer or Slipknot to scream along to in agony. For Alyssa, it was an easy choice: “Songbird” by Fleetwood Mac is the song her son Max came into the world to, and she wouldn’t have had it any other way. Lauren knew exactly what she wanted to hear during her labor and delivery of her daughter Margot. “My birth playlist was 90’s/00’s rock like 3 Doors Down, Goo Goo Dolls, and Lit. I needed something I could sing every word to so I didn’t have to think about anything else!” Opting for distraction and familiarity…a tactic I think I’d employ myself, and not just because I selfishly want my kid coming out kicking to Foo Fighters. While Lauren (an organized Virgo) was adamant about her music choice in the delivery room, Lily’s birthing experience was much more chaotic and spontaneous. Having gone into labor a whole 3 weeks earlier than anticipated with her son Declan, she didn’t have much time to prepare her music accompaniment, let alone to buy a carseat for the ride home from the hospital. “They offered me music but I didn’t have any”, says Lily. “Your girl was in a state of shock”.

So, how do each of these moms plan to expose their kids to music? What role do they see music playing in their kids’ lives, their upbringings? “Now that I have my own daughter, I want her to appreciate music the way I was taught to” says Lauren. “While we, of course, listen to Raffi (he’s pretty good), we also expose her to the good stuff, which now happens to be Harry Styles on repeat. And when we need a little background music at dinner, I might put on Kidz Bop so she gets the pop exposure with a more simple beat”. Alyssa finds it imperative to foster individuality in her son when it comes to music. “My plan is to expose Max to all different kinds of music, not just things I like. I want him to explore. Music is number 1 for me (I’m all about music), but I don’t want to be his only influence. I can’t wait to celebrate the music he is into. Music in and of itself is a language. I really want him to find his own voice…that’s really important to me.” Lily said it all started in the womb for her son Declan. “I feel like I exposed him to a lot of music when I was pregnant just because of how I am always listening to music – getting ready, doing my routine, at work – while he was cooking in there, he heard a lot.” For the future, she, like Alyssa, is open minded. “I don’t wanna force any type of music on him because I listen to such a wide variety, and he should be well-balanced in music taste. Right now I see music affecting his moods. Country gets him relaxed, and when The Gaslight Anthem comes on his eyes are wide open. It’s so fun to watch him reacting to music”.

The playlist accompanying this article is going to be a little…different, to say the least. I went down a rabbit hole remembering all the songs I used to listen to as a child, and I felt compelled to spread the nostalgia. The first part of this playlist will be exactly that: silly songs that make kids squeal with delight and clap their hands like little maniacs (and ones that you just might remember and sing along to). The second half of the playlist is inspired by the pop and rock music our parents exposed us to, and the music my friends gave birth to. Take a listen, and don’t forget to give a mom in your life a big hug…for all the hours she listened to Baby Shark or The Wiggles instead of shaking her ass to Ludacris, she deserves at least that much. -NV

The post Rockabye, Rock On BABY – Nicole Vitale appeared first on Karjaka Magazine.

“You’re listening to WMCX, 88.9 fm, Monmouth University’s home for modern rock, with an edge!”

That was a tag I’ve had memorized for over a decade, ever since my humble beginnings as a college radio DJ at my private university at the Jersey Shore. Back in those days, I was known as Queen Bee Nikki V. by my peers, professors, and loyal listeners. Being on air at The X was not only my favorite extracurricular activity, but also a requirement of my Radio/TV concentrated major in Communication. The gift of gab was not the only reason I loved being on the radio (though as we all know, I love to talk at length about music, among other subjects); I loved the power I had to expose our fan base to emerging local talent. We put on 12 and 24 Hour Music Fests, dedicating an hour each to a new local band. Among some of the biggest acts that graced our airwaves are All Time Low, Pat DiNizio from The Smithereens, and even Michale Graves of Misfits. If ever there was a poster child for the Asbury live music scene between 2008 and 2012, it was certainly me. The beer soaked floors of The Saint, The Stone Pony and Wonderbar welcomed my Vans-clad feet, and the hum of the buzzing amps gave me warm fuzzies. Attending and promoting shows featuring fresh New Jersey talent was something I believed wholeheartedly in. 

One of my favorite local bands was Almost There – a rock trio from my hometown that I became friends with during my college years – that at one point (through an arduous multi-round contest sponsored by a local commercial radio station) got the opportunity to record a full-length studio album in California, accompanied by a video crew. My heart swelled to see Zach, Ed and Mike taking baby steps toward what I considered the pathway to “making it big”. That was well before I began my formal career in the music industry and truly saw what it takes to break an artist. I was blown away by their talent and their songwriting ability, but through the years I realized that it takes a lot more than sheer talent to acquire the coveted recording contract. There’s a whole lot of self-promotion, drive, determination, sacrifice, and little bit of a lack of control needed to truly become a rock star. Artists are nothing if not eccentric creatives with full license to run amok, bearing their hearts and souls for the world to share. I could only imagine that a record company trying to bridle and bottle those creative juices through calculated marketing decisions would be a difficult cross to bear. 

Now, I don’t claim to know everything about growing a baby artist, but I do have a few tips for those of you looking to break into the industry. Obviously, the talent has to be there, and in spades. I’m not talking just being the self-proclaimed star of your local karaoke bar (that was more of a dig at myself). If you are serious about developing your music career, you need to also create content. Fan engagement is incredibly important these days, so your online presence should be both thoughtful and plentiful. As much as you’re going to hate this, you should probably start creating TikTok videos and Instagram Reels. The more you make, the higher the chance for virality, thus expanding your fanbase and discoverability. Labels are looking for engaging and talented artists with an “it” factor and the potential for longevity, and as we have discussed in previous articles, a ton of A&R’s are turning to TikTok to scoop up the “Next Big Thing”. Internet presence aside, you’ve got to be booking gigs consistently. Get local venues familiar with your face and your name(s). It is paramount that you always be kind and easy to work with – this will take you further than you realize. Nobody wants to book a diva that acts too big for their britches, nor do you want to establish a reputation of being disrespectful. Even if the booking agent is a total [INSERT EXPLETIVE HERE], be the bigger person. You are depending on the venue, they don’t depend on you. They see local talent as a dime a dozen, so it’s your job to stand out and create demand.

It is also vitally important to remember that growing a fan base takes time and patience. As they say, Rome wasn’t built in a day. It is really easy to get discouraged as a developing artist, especially when you see those around you with arguably less talent making it big faster than you. But you must understand that success is a byproduct of time and effort, and even the brightest stars took decades to achieve mainstream success. New Jersey R&B queen SZA is just now establishing herself as a household name after 10 years in the game (not to say she didn’t have some fame and recognition beforehand), and her latest album SOS has spent the last 17 weeks on the Billboard 200 chart, and broke the record for the most weeks at No. 1 on the Hot 100 by a lead female artist in the list’s nearly 65-year history. Many other popular artists didn’t get their start until their 30’s! Singers like Sheryl Crow and Luther Vandross started out as jingle writers and backup singers respectively. 

As always, I’ve created another playlist to accompany this article. It includes amazing emerging solo artists and bands that I strongly encourage you to check out and support. They are close personal friends, students I have mentored, and even a random dude I met at a bar one night. I’ve even been a roadie to the drummer in the band Morningside Lane (shoutout to Brian Morelli, my friend of over 20 years!), following his various bands throughout high school and college. With your listenership and word of mouth, you could possibly help these little seeds blossom into the fame they so deserve. I implore you to familiarize yourself with your local music scene and give up-and-coming artists your attention. They may someday have a viral hit, and you can have bragging rights about how you saw them before they blew up. Happy listening, and happy Spring! – NV

The post Sowing Seeds of Success: How to Grow an Artist appeared first on Karjaka Magazine.

It’s a universal and somewhat taboo subject. It’s something that some people will do anything to have. Sometimes it comes with its own unique set of complications and risks, but also some near euphoric reward. You’ve set the scene for a perfect end to the evening: There are enough candles lit to initiate a seance. Your apartment smells like spicy clove, a hint of citrus, and maybe a splash of bourbon from the little spill you had during your date pregame earlier. The lights are dim and the curtains are drawn; It’s time to get down to business. 

He’s feeling it…you’re feeling it. He grazes the small of your back with his fingertips and an undeniable chill runs up your spine. One thing leads to another, and before you know it you’re rolling around giving each other a very sexy tongue lashing. Body parts are mashing together and the tension grows, just ripe for the finale. Then all of a sudden you realize it’s quiet…too quiet. AH! The playlist. The playlist! You run to throw on the ultimate soundtrack to accompany all the heavy breathing and rustling that is likely to ensue…well, that is, if you’re anything like me. As a sex-positive music lover, I am all about crafting the moment – and bedroom activities are no exception. 

I have sometimes wondered what makes us want to assign music to our most intimate moments. First and foremost, it cuts the tension, especially with a newer partner. As humans, we have a difficult time sitting in silence. Finding ways to fill that silence – whether it be with commentary or the background noise of a Netflix show you’re certainly not actively watching – is something that comes as second nature to us. I know personally that my awkward fumbling with a partner seems much less potentially embarrassing with the musings of Raveena backing me up.

Second, music not only adds a much needed layer to the overall ambiance, but it can be extremely grounding. Typically in therapy when we are taught to utilize grounding techniques, we’re meant to identify things we touch, see, smell, taste and hear. Think back on the last time you were about to engage in an amorous congress (don’t get too excited now). Try to recall your senses in that moment: Tasting your partner’s lips, smelling the sweet aroma of their skin, running your fingers through their hair, gazing deeply and intently into their eyes…of course it would just make sense that mood music is a perfect way to round out the sensual potpourri you’re experiencing.

Another reason we allocate tunes to our aggressive cuddling is our innate desire to share with other humans in order to establish and deepen our bonds. As we know, music is a catalyst for connection. It would therefore make perfect sense that in a moment representing pleasure and closeness that we would want the music we play to bring us together on more than a carnal level. We have all collected certain songs from our relationships, whether they be past or present. Then there’s the more music-theory driven explanation to all of this, and that would be the music itself being intentionally written for fans to engage in the horizontal mambo to. Artists like Usher, The Weeknd, and the legendary Marvin Gaye have capitalized on our sex-obsessed culture and catered exclusively to the female gaze. Lyrically, these artists have displayed the elusive male vulnerability. And what is sex if not the ultimate test of vulnerability? The lyrics of songs by male artists like the aforementioned are serving those listening the tenderness they want to come from their partner’s mouth. Take, for example, the incomparable Prince and his song “Breakfast Can Wait”:

I mean, JESUS. I’m a hungry girl in the morning, but if my bedfellow woke up, rolled over, and said that to me, I’d make sure I was full until dinner if you catch my drift. Besides lyrics, there are so many other elements of a song that turn the heat up. Generally, tempo is the easiest to determine. Most baby makin’ music is slow and steady, inviting all participants to relax and ease into the groove. Add in a bassline thick like honey, some buzzy synth and a little gentle falsetto, and you, my friend, have the makings of a song that help create a Very Sensual Moment.

Now that I’ve got you all hot and bothered, take a gander at the accompanying playlist I’ve made just for you (and whoever might be joining you in bed). You can thank me later…or name your first kid after me, whatever works. -NV

The post Bedroom Beats appeared first on Karjaka Magazine.

At the top of every New Year lies a mountain of pressure – pressure to be better, achieve more, reinvent ourselves. The familiar urge we have to “go big or go home” rears its ugly head, tempting us to go all in; Quit drinking cold turkey, bury ourselves in a mountain of vegetables and drown in green juices, or to hit the gym 7 days a week (despite fatigue, because “pain is weakness leaving the body”) and achieve the ideal body, an image fed to us by devious marketing schemes and compounded by the male/female/non-binary gaze. We’ve all been there, standing on our soapboxes of self-loathing, flailing our arms and screaming “NEW YEAR, NEW ME!”. But what if instead we stood back and took a critical look at the person we have become? What would we see? I prefer to take stock in the achievements, failures, moments and memories that have erected the person who stands proudly before you. Flaws and all, I choose to honor the person that I am, rather than completely discount her and attempt to eradicate her from existence. Now, I’m not saying you can’t have goals for the New Year. I’m just saying not to throw the baby out with the bathwater (what did that baby even do to you anyway, and where is its mother?). 

I find that in times of harsh self-criticism, or at the top of a New Year when we’re being bombarded with messages to change, the power of a well-curated playlist is immeasurable. Music is a constant. While trends in music change as often as you change your undies, our favorite songs are reliable and unwavering. We can depend on the music we love to be consistent, even if we ourselves as humans are not. Music transports us to different emotions and states of being by manipulating moods. I’ve been crafting playlists for years to match situations and emotional states; Any regular reader of Karjaka knows that this is my bread and butter. The accompanying playlists I create for each article I write are meant to enhance the words on the page and deliver the reader to the headspace I was in when I was furiously typing. They’re meant to be listened to in sequence, but can easily be shuffled and the same sentiment applies. I think of myself as fabricating an immersive experience of sorts…and the same goes for my personal playlists. Think of a playlist as a snowglobe; Each playlist is a microcosm, wherein exists a different reality. Your collection of playlists is like a shelf on which each one of these little worlds exist. Some are filled with tearful ballads and a resonant, rich chorus of strings, evoking a cloudy and gloomy mood for those days that aren’t so great. Others can be uplifting and sunny, riddled with sugary pop tracks and bouncy melodies to unburden the mind and lift the spirits. 

Some days we want to exist in our pity party bubble, tucked into a gravity blanket with a fistfull of tissues. Lewis Capaldi and his disconsolate tracks are excellent accompaniment to my sad sack behavior. Society tells us to push through our sadness and ignore our exhaustion. But why? I for one want to feel, because that’s what makes life so profound. If a sad Cabbage Patch Doll of a Scottish man wailing away doesn’t tug on the heartstrings, I don’t know what does. Now, when I want to remember what a boss I am, my playlist “cocky” is the move. It’s full of powerful, confident anthems by artists like Cardi B, RuPaul, Tinashe, Megan Thee Stallion and other similar artists who know their worth and proclaim it proudly to the world. I put this playlist on and S-T-R-U-T, very few (if none at all) f*cks given; My head held high and hips swiveling, feeling like the baddest 5’2” bitch on the planet. Now, I am not claiming to love every single thing about myself (though as you know, I am quite fabulous) or that I have it all figured out. I’m a sentient sack of blood of bones just like you! I’m fumbling my way through this journey of radical self-acceptance like anyone else would because I am human. It has taken me a long time to get to the place that I am, and every day I have to remind myself that I am perfectly imperfect, and that is more than ok. Our moods are meant to fluctuate, as is our progress. But the key is not to let it bring us down or wave the white flag and give up if we slip up. Even if I attempt something and fail, I dust myself off and carry on. I carpe the damn diem. Some diems, I don’t carpe as much. But a bitch does the best she can, and that’s what counts. 

I want to encourage you to really listen to what your body and mind are craving. Locate the behaviors, people, situations that are not serving you and strive to make changes that honor your needs instead of those that align with a societal ideal. F*ck what society thinks you need, you’re steering the ship here! We’re going to take the first small step in your self-preservation journey with the one thing I know best: music. Ok, now it’s time for the homework portion of this article. I want you to think about the soundtrack to your life. What does that sound like? What feelings do you want it to evoke? My assignment for you is to compile a playlist on whatever medium you choose (cassette for the OG’s, Spotify, Apple Music, pen & paper…) and determine at least 10 songs that allow you to bask in your uniqueness. Find your constants and immerse yourself in them. What type of music defines you? What artists empower you and lift you up? You can title your playlist as simply as just your initials, or assign a title that has a secret meaning to you and you alone. It can span across all genres, tempos and moods, so long as it comforts you and emancipates you from the notion that you are something to be modified rather than celebrated and commended.

There is so much about each and every one of you that should not be discounted or glazed over in an attempt to reinvent yourself. The truth of the matter is that humans are complex and messy and sometimes very lazy. We are flawed, and that is a truth we need to accept. The impulse to jam on the brakes, launch into a new routine and show everyone that you are in the process of achieving the equivalent of ego-driven social nirvana is not sustainable. And those flaws I was mentioning earlier? They are beautiful. They are what make you inherently, well, you. If you take away one thing from this article, let it be this mantra: “I honor who I was, who I am, and who I will become”. Here are some tunes to help empower you (in as non-cheesy of a way as possible) and remind you who the hell you are, you unique and wonderful son of a bitch. 

The post Personify with Playlists: How Music can Help You Carpe The Damn Diem appeared first on Karjaka Magazine.

It seems like every year without fail, Holiday music creeps into the atmosphere of every TJMaxx and ShopRite earlier and earlier. All you’re trying to do is innocently shop for a new bra and BAM: CHRISTMAS TO THE FACE in late October. I’m of the school of thought that we should bask in the crispness of Autumn, savor the meaning of Thanksgiving (not the Colonialism bit, but the togetherness and gratitude part) and enjoy our tryptophan comas in peace without being assaulted by those godforsaken jingle bells everywhere we turn. Maybe that makes me look like a cute ‘n curvy lil Eb Scrooge, but so be it! I prefer to wait until one door closes before opening another, stepping further and further into the madness that is the holiday season.

…but now that we’ve made it here — knee-deep in December, strangled by ribbons, blinded by Rudolph’s nose and jabbed by holly — I suppose it’s time to talk shop (and not Santa’s): holiday music. Christmas carols commemorating the birth of Jesus Christ have been around since the 4th century but were not immediately associated with the holiday of Christmas until the 13th century. According to howstuffworks.com, “Saint Francis of Assisi, the Roman Catholic saint of animals and the environment, is often credited with incorporating upbeat Latin hymns into Christmas services. The energetic, joyful carols were sung in sharp contrast to the somber Christmas music of the day”. Carolers would often gather in town squares and “sing for their supper”, so to speak, given mince pies and other tasty treats as a thanks for their performance. In modern times, many caroling groups gather to sing and raise money for charities and parishes.

The less pagan, more commercialized rung on the Christmas ladder came with the adaptation of Saint Nicholas into Santa Claus, characterized by his big belly, long white beard, and generally (and suspiciously) jolly demeanor. Kids ate this sh*t up BIG TIME, and parents fueled the narrative that if they behaved, Santa would get them everything their greedy little baby capitalist hearts could desire. Macy’s department store featured Santa at the tail end of every Thanksgiving parade from its inception in 1924, and Santa became a staple in the lyrics of Christmas songs since then. Move over Jesus, there’s a new sheriff in town! Am I going to Hell? I might be going to Hell.

Christmas Pop music really started to take off in the 1930’s, with a string of classics that the general populous still know and love today. Bangers like “Silent Night”, “Winter Wonderland”, and “Jingle Bells” made way for the next surge of fun sing along tracks. Crooners like Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra dominated the charts with their take on tunes such as “White Christmas” and “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas”, made famous by Judy Garland in the MGM studio film Meet Me In St. Louis. In the 1960’s famed (and now somewhat infamous) record producer and songwriter Phil Spector cranked out massive hits with his signature Wall of Sound production style, enveloping the listener in an orchestral assault and layers upon layers upon layers of sound. Among some of his most iconic holiday hits The Ronettes’ “Sleigh Ride” and Darlene Love’s “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)”. That same music production tactic can be heard through the 60’s and up to today, the best example being Kelly Clarkson’s 2013 “Underneath the Tree”.

Now of course, I would be remiss if I did not mention the Queen of Christmas herself, the OG Ms. Mariah Mimi/Butterfly/five-octave vocal range Carey. Mariah first blessed us with her first holiday album Merry Christmas in 1994, and the world has not been the same since then (and I have not recovered). You can’t think about entering a karaoke bar from November 1st through New Year’s Day and avoid being assaulted with drunk biddies attempting that F# toward the end of the song like a chorus of feral wolves howling at the blood moon. I am convinced that the KGB injected that song with some top secret formula that will eventually become the harbinger of societal downfall, but until that day comes, you best believe I’ll be howling with those drunk girls at Ed & Mary’s (my favorite Jersey City bar) and worshiping at the altar of Mariah all season long.

Wishing all you readers an amazing holiday season and a kickass new year to come!

The post and then.. BAM! Christmas to the FACE appeared first on Karjaka Magazine.

What defines home? The general description of a home encompasses the physical structure, made of lumber or brick or other such materials to shelter one from the harsh elements. But home is so much more than that. Home is subjective; It is – in large part – feelings of security, stability, comfort, and love. You can stay in any one building long enough and start to become attached. Case in point: how many hours do a lot of you readers spend in an office building? Chances are that you wouldn’t jump at the chance to define your office as “home”, but I’m willing to bet that the cumulative hours spent there have embedded feelings of familiarity that feel very much like home. That one coffee machine that sputters at the end of a brew cycle, that fluorescent bulb that facilities keeps forgetting to fix, the conference table at which you might have pitched some of your best (and worst) ideas…I’m almost certain that these memories will all stick with you subconsciously, so much so that when you eventually leave that job, you might just sigh with longing as you push through the revolving doors of the marble lobby one last time. 

There are, of course, lived experiences that assist in defining home, sure. Objects such as photographs on the walls or your favorite flower vase are ways we can express ourselves in our physical space. But think of the smells of home; Think of the sounds. For me, I know I’m home when I can smell my mother’s skin during a hug, or when I can hear my dad mowing his lawn, infusing the surrounding air with a cacophony of the roaring motor and the intoxicating (at least to me) fragrance of diesel and grass. I can be anywhere and hear, smell, see, taste or touch something that can evoke feelings of home. We associate different sensory triggers with these feelings that transport us, and the same goes for songs. There are some songs that I absolutely loathe because I associate them with a certain place and time in my life, and/or a person I no longer speak to (now is the time where I sarcastically thank an ex of mine for ruining the 1999 smash hit “Smooth” by Santana & Rob Thomas for me forever). I’ll always associate “Screaming Infidelities” by Dashboard Confessional with the longest bus ride of my life that consistently smelled like stale farts and rubber. 

Conversely, I get choked up every time I hear “I Love You Always Forever” by Donna Lewis, a song I used to sing to my sister when she was two years old. I remember fawning over her in her carseat, sitting in Sunday traffic on our way back from the Catskills, crooning to her about how she had the most beautiful blue eyes I’d ever seen. I’m simultaneously irritated and comforted whenever I hear my mom say “Alexa, play John Mayer” (a phrase she utters almost daily, where on occasion she requests Jack Johnson instead). Whenever I hear “Daughters”, her face instantly pops into my mind. I’m tickled remembering late night pilgrimages to Wawa with my friend Lizz, – acting out the Jack Black and Kyle Gas parts, respectively – singing the incredibly silly Tenacious D rock opera “City Hall”; And on days when my best friend Lily picks me up in her car, you’d better believe she has already queued up “Best Friend” By Saweetie featuring Doja Cat to play at least twice. 

The one standout musical memory for me that most encompasses the feeling of home is Christmas of 2002. I had asked for some bullshit CD for Christmas, and was surprised when I unwrapped my gifts to see a pile of Beatles CD’s. What was this old man music doing in my stocking? As it turns out, my dad seized the opportunity to beef up my foundational music education right then and there, giving me one of the greatest gifts I would ever have the honor of receiving. We went through album to album, from Abbey Road to The White Album to Rubber Soul. Landing on Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, my dad played me track 6, “She’s Leaving Home”, a song about a young girl who escapes the control of her parents, leaving only a note. The song described their lament and confusion: 

we gave her most of our lives
sacrificed most of our lives
we gave her everything money could buy

Ultimately, she craved a life that money couldn’t buy and the fulfillment that her parents couldn’t provide. At that moment, my dad expressed to me that he never wanted me to feel that way about him and my mother, and that he tries his best to make sure I feel loved, secure, and fulfilled. Thinking of that moment now brings tears to my eyes. That expression of love and concern was more of a measure of home than any building or high thread count linen could ever provide. And that is a beautiful thing. 

Now I share with you songs that remind me of home, both the physical structure(s) and the emotional states. Wishing you a happy and healthy holiday season no matter what you celebrate, or where you call home. 

Nicole is Sr. Manager, New Release Content at Warner Music Group. She lives in Jersey City, NJ and loves Oreos, puppies, and the smell of laundry.

The post Homeward Bound: The Defining Sounds of Home appeared first on Karjaka Magazine.