Now Playing: October 2020

In this month’s edition of Now Playing, our October issue contributors share some recommendations perfect for spooky season—as well as some recommendations for those of you who need a break from all things foreboding.

Ra’Niqua Lee

“Lovecraft Country has taken me by sweet surprise. The drama series combines elements of horror, science fiction, Black diasporic faith and religious practices, Afro-futurism, Greek and Korean mythos, and harrowing history. The most recent episode, ‘Jig-a-Bobo,’ features two murderous caricatures that dance in their death pursuit of a young Black girl, who is mourning the loss of her close friend, Emmett Till. Although vast in its scope, the show never handles its plot points haphazardly. It disrupts binaries, which makes it a refreshing watch in a cultural climate that seems evermore divided.”

Nefertiti Asanti

“Since we been quarantining, I've been trying to balance my penchant for horror with chill, dystopia-lite content, so I've turned to comedy. It is a rare occasion that I find comedic content 1. not utterly offensive 2. laugh out loud funny, and so far, The Josh Johnson Show has been all that and then some; I really enjoy hearing this man tell absurd stories about his life while I clean the bathroom. I generally don't have the attention span for podcasts, but this has truly been a treat.”

Jeremy Radin

“Recently I’ve been revisiting an album I thought I was embarrassed to have loved as a teenager: Jethro Tull’s The Broadsword and the Beast (1982). And guess what. It turns out that I am not embarrassed at all, and that this album fucking slays. And when I say ‘slays,’ I mean the first song, ‘Beastie,’ is about ‘…a beast upon my shoulder and a fiend upon my back,’ which exhorts the listener to ‘Feel his burning breath a-heaving, smoke oozing from his stack.’ Later in, the song ‘Broadsword,’ the singer commands the listener to ‘Bring me my broadsword, and clear understanding.’  These songs, blending Tull’s signature medieval folk-rock sound and Dungeons and Dragons imagery with heavy synth (and also, of course, lots of flute) are deliriously overwrought, unapologetically melodramatic.  ‘Slow Marching Band’ and ‘Pussy Willow’ take themselves far too seriously, and frankly, I miss that. There’s no irony here, no coolness. The Broadsword and the Beast is not fucking around; it's out for blood, asking the big questions, and you know what? Answering them. Listen. This is album is very likely not ‘good,’ but what even does that mean and who cares? When I listen to it, I’m transported, not only to my own history, but to the history of a mythical land that does not, and honestly, should not, exist.”