the Flagpole
A list and a letter of love for back-of-kitchen, late 90’s music snobbery and what it can teach us about travel intel.
I was taught my music snobbery honestly; in the depths of a kitchen as a line cook in Athens Georgia in the late 90’s. At that point in time I was studying at the University of Georgia, but mostly I was cooking and cleaning and listening; listening to music, listening to people talk about music, listening to people critique music in a timbre and rhythm that John Cusack captured so wonderfully playing Nick Hornby’s character Rob Gordon in the early 2000’s gem High Fidelity. In the kitchens of Athens Ga we talked about Pavement, Pylon, Elephant 6, a mutual hatred of Matchbox 20, and the genius of Vic Chesnut. We never talked about REM, it was too close to home and we spent time with the band, cooking for them, going to New Years parties with them, it was cool to neglect the coolness and pretend we never really noticed them. There were secret shows REM would play in town, under different names, pre-internet and iphone, when word of mouth was actual words in actual mouths. It was a musical education unanchored by the rules of algorithms, it was random chaotic discovery and it took work, it took curiosity, you would hear something on the stereo and say “who’s this?” and then, if you were lucky, you would hear someone speak poetry about this new band you had not heard of. I remember the White Stripes entering my life this way, and Will Oldham, Goodie Mob; each band attached to a gospel being preached by a friend or an enemy, it didn’t matter then, we were all hungry and in need of new music, the most hated person in your life could turn you on to the best band you would ever hear, you had to be open, fully, otherwise you would miss it. There was never room for Billboard charts, or most played, that wasn’t the key. The key was the alchemy, learning to love some misunderstood sound, that Radiohead's Kid A was way ahead of its time, that most of us didn’t understand it at the time and it hit like a wave and shook things. Most of the people around me were 10-15 years older, I watched, I learned, I listened, I felt like it was a different language and I was allowed to witness and soak it up. Whenever I spoke about Led Zeppelin or ACDC eyes would roll and I would be shunned for a time, these were loved bands, don’t get me wrong, but they were obvious, understood, I was not speaking the language fully, I was unaffiliated.
This school of musical critique/wonderful/blessed/horrible snobbery sank deep and left high water marks inside of me. It nested and steers me in ways I love and hate, a healthy distrust and a want to tack away from the main, an indie-punk path born pre-itunes feeds and spoon fed troughs.
I now feel it raise its head with travel trends, mostly when I see top lists; the world's best hotels, cruise ships, top 10 new _____ for the year, the 50 best places to do this or that or see before you do this or that. It reminds me of Matchbox 20 and Billboard charts. Those lists hurt something unnamed and beautiful, they hurt the subjective collaboration, they are void of a person knowing you, knowing what you dig, and knowing how you dig it telling you, “hey, you have to go here, it will blow your mind.” There is a lack of trust and there is a laziness in these lists as well. They assume everyone, a homogenous style. They are generic. And they have to be, because they aren’t honestly telling you this is the top 5 places to do this or see that, they usually are paid for advertisements or lobbied positions. They feel dishonest because they are usually dishonest. They assume everyone because they want to capture all, they are a sales tool. The opposite process to the sharing of the band you think fits the person you are talking to only with the idea of spreading the love. That process is surgical and tailored, it is human and personal, it is exchange.
This isn’t the case for all travel advice or list, there are deep cuts out there that share lists in a way that feel more like those back kitchen conversations. Much like there were treasure troves to find new music (I am thinking places like a trusted record store, record labels, or a radio hour you related to ) in the travel world there are places that shed the light, share the love and preach the gospel for the curious. And, to get very meta here, I want to make a list of the lists that I dig, places I go to find newness, honeypots of travel goodness, people and places I seek out to tell me “hey, you should see this, it will blow your mind and you have never heard of it before!” My Travel soothsayers:
YOLO Journal: Yolanda Edwards and her team are doing it right. They reach out to their friends who are experts in the places they are interested in and ask them to tell all what they dig in their town, or country, or place. It feels personal, because it is, it is like a cocktail party and you are standing next to Yolanda the whole time listening to the people she is talking with, and if you dig her style and trust her judgment, which you should, it is a wealth of knowledge that isn’t filtered through a board of advisors or advertisement revenues like many magazines are. There are lists, but they are lists in pure form, a handful of suggestions from the mouth of someone who knows, someone who is there and really thinks this cafe or bar or city park is good and worth checking out. To me, it is like those college town free weekly’s that have album reviews and “about town” calendars, but geared for my 40 year old self rather than my 18 year old self. You can find this movable cocktail party in print with YOLO Journal, and you can find it digitally in Substack.
Cartography Magazine: This magazine is a wonderful mix of poetry, fashion, travel, and ephemeral feels; each string pulling and keeping the others in line. Each edition picks 2 or three locations and collects essays and ideas on an itinerary through a place, not from the desk or armchair, but by going and spending time there. It doesn’t focus on hotels, or places to dine, it focuses on how a place feels. While I dig me a nice hotel, they have become far too heavy in descriptions and itineraries of places and cultures for my liking, which is why I like this magazine, it leaves out the noise and hones in on a locale.
Sophy Roberts: Sophy writes. She is published in the Financial Times, Conde Nast, Departures, The Analog Sea Review (a personal favorite), and many more. She also has a hell of a book out called “The Lost Pianos of Siberia” (which I mention in this post, a list I made of travel books I like) and another one on the way in the next year. I read whatever she writes, I take note, I listen. Sophy is an oracle in this way. You can follow on Instagram, you can set up google alerts, you can pick up the FT Weekend on most weekends and pick up the places and ideas she is putting out there. Get on the train, it's a good train. She has a critical eye and a war journalists instinct, reportage and poetry and historical reference all in the mix landing the reader into context and understanding. I am biased as I am both a friend and a fan, but I felt the same way about the owner of the record store in Athens Ga who turned me on to so many great albums. I trust that Sophy’s discernment of things is independent of my bias. This isn’t to say you should go anywhere Sophy is keen on going. What I mean more is that you should watch Sophy through her work and learn how to get better at using your own curiosities to lead your own lists.
The Surfer technique: I wrote about this in another post but it is worth repeating: “Years ago I learned to surf. Let me be clear, I am no surfer. I love it. I love the cliches that come with it, and they come honestly, but I am a horrible surfer, ungraceful, like some sort of diseased drunk goose trying to dance on jelly. But that is beside the point of it. I love the way surfing draws me to places I would never go without the excuse of surfing, it is a tool, it pulls me to places not on the lists, and it feels secret, it feels like treasure sought and found.
In my work in travel and research I have found this can be felt through any curiosity, it is a tool, a secret weapon. Museums in Central Asia as a reason for a trip, holy wells as a frame to hold a journey on.”
This can be anything that sparks your curiosity. Birding, surfing, biking, knitting, music, art, food, a particular poet or painter. I have traveled far to see a specific factory, or a landing place for a bird, and while the initial idea fascinated me, what I felt along the way was newness and excitement.
While on the road, listen and ask, leave space to allow for spontaneity and change, and follow the scent like chasing a wave you have heard about. Like murmuration, there are flows and currents you can feel when on the road, troughs set in front of you, all you have to do is be open to see them and listen.
The travel intel way to use social media: I use instagram as much as I preach against the algorithm, there are ways to use the tool that escape the sales and marketing of Meta. Start with an entry, a writer you like from a place, a band, etc, and dive in to explore where they go when they are home. This one reminds me of listening to the influences of your favorite bands, finding out the Rolling Stones were big fans of Muddy Waters and then picking up a copy of Electric Mud and then having your face melted off.
The avoid technique: Read the top 10 places to go lists, and then, don’t go. Choose to go elsewhere.
Find someone with a pulse that is not with-in the “industry”: When I start diving into researching a place I look to academia, the art world, writers and poets, musicians, taxi drivers, anyone who isn’t in the travel industry. This isn’t to say that work in travel is a bad thing, but it does create a bias, and I prefer to understand a place without the industry bias first so I can recognize it later. At its worst, a place can be painted as a stereotype that is fictional, removed from reality. It is strange to think of Paris as it was in the 1920’s, Paris has changed, so has the rest of us, but often times preconceived ideas of place are easier to sell so an industry takes hold. I am interested in things outside of this. How do I find these people? I call, I email, I reach out and express my curiosity in a human way, and the response is usually positive.
The streets of the cities we live in: A lot of the places we lust to travel exist outside of their known geographies; through migration, immigration and emigration, sometimes, and more often than I think we are aware, places seep out of the borders and pop up in communities on the opposite side of the globe. I am thinking of Flushing New York, where you can walk through the streets and feel like you are in Shanghai, because, in a very real way, you are in Shanghai.
There are large magnet international cities that attract diaspora communities, New York, London, Toronto, Shanghai. Toronto is a unique one in that over 50% of this city by the lake is not from Canada, over 50% of the inhabitants of Toronto are from another country, this creates a lot of connective tissue with the mapped globe, pockets of Shanghai in Toronto, smatterings of Puglia, touches of Havana.
All of this is to say, if you want to access a place and get to know it before you go, head down the road and explore in your own backyard if you live in a large city. You will be amazed how much of a place you can find.
