Train Musings

I’ve had three recent encounters with trains.

The first was in the Mojave Desert. Blinding heat, socially very-distant. We spotted it from afar, way up ahead and miles away. In the expanse of the desert, we watched the train grow closer and larger as we, driving, continued along the open road. This went on for miles until unbelievably, our paths met at the same point. We rolled to a stop just as the rail crossings lowered. The train blasted in front of us. 

Train two was south of Shasta, by the campground, next to the river. It appeared in the early evening, and with horns blaring it rolled to a stop. We stood at its side, hopped up on some rungs, and marveled at the feat of construction. We were drinking wine. 

The third was near the Oregon–California border, along highway 97. Driving parallel alongside a moving train is trippy. I tried to keep my eyes on the road but the train demanded my attention. My perception of speed blurred. 

Trains. Sheer masses of iron and steel. The freight containers green, orange, brown, all of them rusted. Each one the same, each one different. One after the next, seemingly endless. What was behind those doors? Where were they headed? 

Under the strange cloud of quarantine, these days pass by like train cars – each one the same, each one different. Our only choice is to keep moving in the same direction. 

The beautiful new album from Mtbrd plays like a train. Smooth beats move one after another, without any notice one track has passed to the next.  Seamless.  Start at the beginning and in the blink of an eye you’re on track 10.  Each one the same, each one different. 

Bipolar Sunshine – Daydreamer (Gryffin Remix)

I finished my undergrad career last week, and with some adventures on the calendar in the coming months I’m all about jams that get me stoked to get out there.

I discovered this one last week and it’s been a constant play since then – putting images of the open road, sunshine, mountains, and rivers in my head.

As the beat builds, increase that volume.


Bakermat is a dude out of Amsterdam serving up smooth jams. Sometimes I could do without the voice-overs he adds, but the jazzy sounds overshadow them.

Starting out with his show Intro is a good place to start:

Long 2-minute buildup for huge brass entrance that’ll leave you wanting more.

This song is different – weird almost. But captivating.