Songs For Walking In The Snow At Night
Snow at night is different from daytime snow, and you're kidding yourself if you think otherwise.
During the day, a street covered in a thick layer of snow runs the risk of losing its magic very quickly. A car might drive by, staining the pristine white fluff with brown sludge. Children, energized by school closing and the prospect of injuring themselves on a sled, might leave their houses and be loud and annoying in the way that children often are, sullying any peaceful feeling that could otherwise be had.
But, oh, a snow-covered street at night—it can be interplanetary. The world looks different, and most of it is asleep, aiding my favorite snow phenomenon: the outer-space-like quiet that results from the dampening of sound. A fresh snowfall becomes a sound absorber and all you’re left with is the crunch of your own footsteps.
It can be peaceful. It can be spooky, if you let it. A night walk in the snow can be a way to collect your thoughts at the end of the day. It can be a decision to turn off your brain. Recently, I learned many people see it as a place to die.
If you haven’t had the pleasure of experiencing this, then this playlist will be my attempt to recreate it.
What to expect on this playlist:
This playlist is two hours of hand-picked, wonderful songs that move me deeply. Most of them do not sound happy. And, because of instrumentation or production, a lot of these songs “sound” like snow to me. This is music for epiphanies.
The mood of the playlist reflects my personal belief that snow walks at night are meant for:
Meditating or epiphanies (having No Thoughts or having Big, Important Thoughts), or
Crying (either because Life Is So Beautiful or because You’re Sad And Need Somewhere Beautiful And Private to Cry).
As usual, the first song is free:
”Maxim’s I” - Julia Holter (2013)
Spotify | Apple | YouTube | TIDAL | Amazon
(the 56 seconds of build-up is worth the Big Entrance, I promise [especially on headphones].)
Over the last twelve years, whenever I’ve been asked for a song that sounds like winter, I’ve answered with “Maxim’s I” by Julia Holter. Every single time. There’s something about that drum brush, specifically, that sounds like falling snow or footsteps in the snow.
I discovered this album in the winter after it was released, and at that time, I was traveling to New York City frequently on a two-hour Metro North train. I would time the album so that it finished right as I exited Grand Central Station and began trudging down 42nd Street in the snow.
To hear all 24 songs in “Songs For Walking In The Snow At Night”, subscribe to Grace Spelman Music Project for just $5/month or $50/year.