Alas, we have entered the month of May, a time of year here in New York that rivals October for my favorite moment to experience life in the city. The air feels naked, weightless save for subtle breezes that serve as a reminder of your presence outdoors. As clouds no longer shield us from the sun, she now shines bright, showering us with her healing rays, giving life to all that can feel and are open to her warm embrace.
Possibly because of the light, pretty and succinct nature of its weather and ambiance, May feels like a month ripe for poetry, and in line with this sentiment, I wanted to share a beautiful piece by the Persian poet Rumi, called Guest House.
This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival. A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor. Welcome and entertain them all! Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows, who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture, still, treat each guest honorably. He may be clearing you out for some new delight. The dark thought, the shame, the malice, meet them at the door laughing, and invite them in. Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.

In curating the playlist for this month, I realized that the music I have craved and resonated with has shifted as of late. No longer do the darker melodies and synths seem to hit the spot as they once did during the depths of the winter and early spring. Instead, I have gravitated toward more cheerful baselines, woodwind instrumentals, and guitar riffs of balmy tones, as light as the new air of May. These songs are representative of a soft hug, a gentle tickle on the nape of your neck if you will. In many ways this playlist is a guest house, full of many guests, mostly new, some old, mostly a joy, some a meanness, but each serving their purpose as a luminescent catalyst to reach momentary awareness.
As I write and consider the greater meaning to these curations, I also notice that the biggest influence and driver behind the selection this month is that aforementioned search for tracks that bring awareness - those songs that, when their melody and lyrics hit your ears, you are instantly brought back into place, the present moment of being, that feeling of your shoes on your feet and the ground beneath you - the ever living now. In retrospect, over the last few months, the playlists have been a bit of an attempt to provide an escape to the cold, harsh, and grey weather that had so prominently characterized the current moment that once was and is no longer. Now, instead of finding a way out through the music, I look to find a way to stay, here, in the pleasant comfort of the sun on my skin as I walk through pockets of her presence along the alleyways of SoHo.

One track that I believe encapsulates this feeling so essentially is Ya Aen Daly, by Najib Alhoush. The guy has a wild history - after being imprisoned by the Gaddafi regime for two years for not singing the dictator’s praises, he released an entire album in support of Gaddafi as a condition for his release. As he continued to reside in Libya, Alhoush was forced to retire from music until he moved to Egypt and eventually began his solo career. I came across this song at Tango, a wonderful small plates wine/cocktail bar in Antwerp, and it was the first to make it onto the May curation. How could you not love a little habibi funk in the sunshine to start off a beautiful day?
The next song I’d like to feature is Only You, by Evan Blix. I discovered Evan’s music a few months ago and immediately reached out to him. Not noly did I want him to know of the magic I heard in his voice, but I also knew he would be an incredible artist with which to collaborate for our Tibi Close Friends series. Hailing from Santa Barabara, CA, Evan has just started on a solo career journey after spending the last 3 years as the lead singer/pianist of his former band, Glenn Annie. He sounds like a vintage blend of Paul McCartney, Harry Nilsson, and the Beach Boys, grounded by the lyricism of Paul Simon. Personally, I can’t listen to Only You without goosebumps and the thought of a beautiful ocean side drive down the California coast. To say he is an artist to watch would be an understatement, and I can’t wait to see what we create together in the near future.

Finally, I would say the last highlight for CP Radio 008 is a song, but it’s really an artist, and his name is Milo Korbenski. His track, Booksmart Hunny, was recommended to me by my talented friend Chris, a.k.a. Brunello, a brilliant producer out of San Diego. Anytime Chris suggests a song, you listen, and of those he has sent my way, this one might be my favorite yet. Milo wears a mask, a Stetson hat, and a denim jacket as his Spotify bio plainly and simply reads, “In my dreams, I dream that I’m a driver at night. In the dark I see it, You’re a trick of the light”. Anonymous and somewhat ominous, Milo’s catelog of music is a gold mine of range and diversity in both prose and melody. Chris put it best, “He’s so good, it’s like a blend of Cage the Elephant and Mgmt.” While Booksmart Hunny and Witch in the Cut are the selected tracks for the May playlist and are a fantastic representation of that previously mentioned creative range, I implore you to go and dive into the wondrous rabbit hole that is Milo’s discography. Milo, if you’re reading this, we’d love to work with you.
Every song on this curation has a purpose, one that brings presence to the here and now, that provides a window into our minds at Tibi, and one that, as a consequence of being what we love and are listening to, is of genuine and intrinsic resonance with you all. *Disclaimer: this playlist is best listened to while basked in the morning sunshine with an espresso in one hand a croissant in the other.*