Look, I need to tell you something about this playlist, and I need you to understand what I'm really saying here.
I've been making Top 5 lists my entire life. Top 5 breakup albums. Top 5 songs that make you think about the one who got away. Top 5 reasons I'm emotionally unavailable. But here's what I've never figured out: What came first, the running or the inability to sit still with your own thoughts?
This playlist starts with Ghostland Observatory's "Midnight Voyage," and if you don't know Ghostland Observatory, that's fine - they're this Texas electro-funk duo that sounds like what would happen if Prince and Daft Punk had a weird basement jam session. Aaron Behrens on vocals, Thomas Ross Turner on synths. It's hypnotic. It's wrong for running. It's perfect for running. That's the whole point.
Then Patrick Sweany comes in with "Them Shoes" - modern blues that actually respects the form instead of just stealing licks. Sweany studied under Robert Lockwood Jr., who learned from Robert Johnson. That's not trivia, that's lineage. The Submarines' "1940" remix follows, and suddenly you're in this weird dream state where blues rock meets chillwave meets indie pop, and you realize the playlist isn't trying to pump you up. It's trying to make you *feel* something.
Track four is where it clicks. "Dance Yrself Clean" by LCD Soundsystem. James Murphy spent his entire career making music for people who overthink dancing, and now we're overthinking running. The quiet build, the explosive release at 3:08 - Barry would argue this is the greatest running track ever recorded, and for once, Barry might be right. It's the sound of breaking through your own bullshit.
White Denim's "At Night In Dreams" keeps that psychedelic garage rock energy going. The Flaming Lips with "The W.A.N.D." - Wayne Coyne's optimistic weirdness hitting you right when you need it. Then TV On The Radio drops "Wolf Like Me," and this is it. This is the Wall Breaker.
"Wolf Like Me" is Tunde Adebimpe screaming about primal desire over Dave Sitek's paranoid production, and it hits at exactly the moment when you're asking yourself why you're doing this. The song is about wanting someone so badly you become animal. The running application writes itself. We're all running toward something or away from something, and at mile four, those things become the same thing.
Sylvan Esso's "Radio" brings you back down with Amelia Meath's crystalline vocals over Nick Sanborn's minimal beats. Delta Spirit's "Trashcan" - indie rock that remembers rock is supposed to be cathartic. Parquet Courts' "Borrowed Time" adding that post-punk anxiety that feels appropriate for anyone who runs to clear their head. Spoiler: it never works.
The playlist ends with Mr Little Jeans' "Good Mistake," a cover of a James Bay song that's better than the original. It's dreamy, it's chillwave, it's the comedown you need after 49 minutes of trying to outrun your own brain.
Here's what I realized around track seven: This playlist isn't about BPM or cadence or optimal heart rate zones. It's about the fact that sometimes you need blues rock and post-punk and chillwave all fighting for space in your headphones because that's what it feels like inside your head anyway.
Top 5 albums I kept from relationships that ended:
1. *You Come And Go Like A Pop Song* by The Submarines - Still have the vinyl she bought me. "1940" is track three. That's not coincidence, that's architecture.
2. *Sound of Silver* by LCD Soundsystem - "Dance Yrself Clean" wasn't even the single, but it's the one that mattered. The quiet part is the relationship. The explosion is the ending.
3. *Return to Cookie Mountain* by TV On The Radio - "Wolf Like Me" sounds like every feeling I couldn't articulate in the moment. Sitek knew. Tunde knew. I didn't.
4. *Coral Fang* by The Distillers - Wrong playlist, but I'm thinking about it. You keep the albums that explain what you couldn't say.
5. *Dear Science* by TV On The Radio - Yeah, two TV On The Radio albums. You want to make something of it?
The Lakefront Trail in November. Wind off the lake. This playlist in your ears. You're not training for anything. You're just moving because staying still means thinking, and thinking means remembering, and remembering means making another Top 5 list about why you're alone.
It's not what you're like. It's what you like. And if you like blues rock bleeding into indie rock bleeding into chillwave while you're trying to hit a pace that makes your thoughts go quiet - well, now I know something true about you.
