The Art of Being Perpetually One Week Behind

Snapshots At The End Of The Year

seattle, date unknown

Things are looking up.

Until recently, I rejected the notion that I could become, or would even want to become, a master of the art of being perpetually one week behind. It is not a desired trait in today’s society. Good things don’t happen to those who are perpetually one week behind.

Being one week behind is essentially shadowbanning oneself on the social feed, and being sort of a shadow IRL. It’s Friday, the day I respond to new texts since last Friday. So Christmas is in two weeks, and New Years’ Eve is three, right?

Having these radio shows on the calendar is my bridge to the present. Seemingly, anytime else, I’m catching up to the place where I can catch up. But I’m good! When the world hits Slow Down szn is when I do most of my catching up.

In my world, the best kind of chaos is the kind that’s always one week away.

Maybe that’s why I’m learning to love consuming news when it’s 1. written in long form and 2. about something that happened a week ago. Instead of what I did for years, I read many short articles on what happened yesterday and a bunch of shorter social posts on what happened today.

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lax, 2011

There’s a saying I’ve had in my head for 22 years. I know how long it is because I remember when I heard it. We were flying to New York in October 2001. Poets visiting poets just weeks after the towers fell. We had a connecting flight, which we were in danger of missing.

A handful of passengers from our flight hauled ass to the gate, and we were relieved that we weren’t late at all. When we made it, M said, “Did you hear what that auntie said? ‘Masarap na walang hinahabol.’ It means it’s good that nothing is chasing her.” Which is the colloquial meaning. I’m not fluent in Tagalog, but I know masarap usually means delicious. Very delicious. So a literal translation is, “It is very delicious that nothing is chasing me.”

And that’s why Filipino food is so soulful. It’s because we can taste how we feel.

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A week ago, I talked with the homie GT in the desert about the growing pains I had in my first few months of DJing at KEXP. That late night/early morning schedule, especially. He would know; he’s been there. He assured me that his initial voyage had rough waters and reminded me that nearly all of us who take to the airwaves do at first. I needed that.

We talked about playlists and the delicate dance that a DJ does between playing what they want to play and playing what (they or someone else thinks) the audience wants to hear. When those two things are locked in harmony, it’s magic. A good DJ always does that dance; the hack DJs refuse to go with the motion. Seemingly, there’s a formula that many follow.

He suggested I read Questlove’s Mo Meta Blues, and referenced a chapter on playlist curation in particular. This is how old I am and how degenerative my memory has become: I’ve read Mo Meta Blues and have most certainly read that chapter. But I don’t remember a thing about it except the feeling that Questlove really loves music, which made me love music even more.

So I re-read the chapter. I won’t rehash the words and spill the secret, but it’s valuable game that is worth more than 10x the book’s price. And also worth reading yourself instead of having me, a noob DJ, mansplain it. I’ll just say: from this point on, all my radio playlists, and playlists in general, are about to level up.

Tune in and hear my thesis in action on Street Sounds tonight! KEXP 90.3 FM Seattle or streaming live and archived at KEXP.org)

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