Vinyl in "Somewhere in Hollywood"

world building with music.

A good story invites a reader to get lost in a world completely imagined in the writer’s head. World building, I find is the trickiest part of writing where it’s so clear in my head, the smells and the sounds of the story, but translating what feels real in my mind onto paper takes many rewrites and edits. I’ll be the first to admit I’m guilty for providing too much detail from the color of the walls to the trinkets on the table. But everything means something and that includes music. To define the era of the early-aughts as well as my characters Carla and Pete who are stumbling into their 20s, I wanted to include music that enriched both of these elements. Reflecting now on my own 20-something years in the time period, here are some of the vinyl that made cameos in the Somewhere in Hollywood.

Wilco Yankee Hotel Foxtrot

I’ll kick things off with my “shot through the heart and you’re too late” album, which allowed me to wallow like a wounded puppy in my first adult heartbreak. A real heart-wrencher that I am grateful to have gotten out of the way so young since nothing can quite compare to the first time; everything after felt like a diluted version of this first whammy. I now nod my head and smile like a wise and weathered heartbreak veteran, looking back on 20-something-year-old me driving around Los Angeles while listening to “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart” wondering what I’d done wrong. (A lot of things, in retrospect.) It took me years to welcome this record back into my life and now remains a family favorite with my at-the-time 7-year-old son personally asking Jeff Tweedy to play “Kamera” at a show here in France. But that’s for another post.

Beck Sea Change

And while we’re on the topic of heartbreak in L.A., there are some past loves, if you can even call them that, that felt like life or death but now truly make me cringe, with a soundtrack to go with the regret. Unfortunately this soundtrack is Sea Change, and I have to really be in the mood to put it on. I wasted this album on someone who didn’t deserve it, but that’s what it means to grow. Beck himself was going through some shit on this record and I do wonder if he too has a hard time revisiting it. But emotions aside, this album is phenomenal with all the L’histoire de Melody Nelson winks that satisfy my inner rock nerd while reminding me how far I’d come from crying over guys who don’t call back.

Flaming Lips Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots

I discovered this album at my first Friendsgiving in 2003. Arriving at a friend’s with a bottle of Two-Buck Chuck (bottom-of-the-barrel two-dollar wine I actually thought was good), my first words after Happy Thanksgiving was “what is this amazingness falling on my ears?” Enter Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots from stage right. The last I’d heard of the Flaming Lips was their 90s radio hit “She Don’t Use Jelly”, so I was surprised by the more imaginative, experimental, almost whimsical sound and while we’re on the topic of world-building, the vivid storytelling that is this record. Because I was broke and this was 2003, my friend let me borrow the CD who called me the next day to see when I’d drop by to return it. That’s how powerful this record was to us then. I ended it up buying it at Amoeba (not used because no one was selling this gem) and it became part of my sonic landscape of the time. This has become another family favorite with me borrowing my son’s vinyl for this very photo because what kid can deny the narrative power of battling the pink robots?

Yeah Yeah Yeahs Fever to Tell

It wouldn’t be the early-aughts without some Yeah Yeah Yeahs with this debut album being one of the defining moments of the time period. So, the first time I heard the song “Date with the Night”, I thought we were having a Riot Grrrl revival as it captures that stark, poppy punk sound of Bratmobile and Bikini Kill. But no, they were a new band standing out in the sea of The The bands fronted by dudes. Karen O. held her own with a voice and stage presence that held the room in the palm of her hand.

Side comment: What I also loved about this group was that their drummer was from Long Island, feeling like some foreshadowing to my own work where I now spend many hours crafting a character who is also a drummer from Long Island. But no, Pete is not based on Brian Chase from the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. I do have someone in mind but not him.

Belle and Sebastian Dear Catastrophe Waitress

To the shock—the shock, I tell you!— of diehard Belle and Sebastian fans, this is my favorite album by the charming Scottish band. I think when we’re picking album favorites, we’re also picking a favorite time in our lives, and this album came to me during one of the more halcyon moments of mine. It was my first autumn in L.A., living in my very first apartment where writing my own rent check represented freedom, and my decision to live in California with the cool driver’s license to prove it. This album accompanied me as I zipped around town in discovery mode, haphazardly turning onto streets where I found the one that had autumn foliage, which incidentally was where Halloween (one of my favorite movies) was filmed. “If She Wants Me” was also featured in an episode of The O.C., thus validating my association to the show that I was working on as an extra at the time. Light yet introspective, green but wise, and unforced, this is how I interpret the album. For my novel, I contrasted this concept with the song “Piazza, New York Catcher”, positioning it into a more emotional context where my character Pete reflects on his bisexuality in the milieu of 2004.

!!! Louden Up Now

Pronounced Chk Chk Chk, this dance-punk record represented sweaty, basement parties with beer that tasted like water and booze that tasted like a First Aid kit. It encouraged close-dancing and making out with strangers while dipping a toe into the political climate of the time. In “Pardon My Freedom”, the lyric You can tell the president/suck my fucking dick would ignite a roar from the crowd, encapsulating the youth response to the government at the time, most notably, the invasion of Iraq. Today, well, for me at least, it’s my reminder that George W. and Mr. “Weapons of Mass Destruction” Cheney were never our friends—something I felt 2024 sort of forgot. Frustrating for sure, but at least I have this song as an artifact of the way things were.

Outkast Speakboxxx/The Love Below

On my to-buy list, this one is early-aughts gold. From reality-TV watchers to dive bar hipsters, this genre-bending double album is the definition of mass appeal—and in the best way possible. An exploration of soul, love and hip-grinding sensuality, this album crossed demographics where in 2003, we couldn’t get enough of it. And rightfully so because it’s just that good. For my novel, I used this album to connect my Perez Hilton-worshipping character Victoria, to Pete, the ultimate bad boy rock snob, who in a rare moment find commonalty in the toe-tapping groove of “Hey Ya!”.

Britney Spears “Toxic”

Another song that crossed demographics with tumultuous force is “Toxic” by Britney Spears. Written by Cathy Dennis of “Too Many Words” fame (or my personal favorite “Why” which can be found on the 90210 soundtrack), “Toxic” spoke to us who were in the throes of a “situationship” that we knew was bad for us, but was as addictive as the polished perfection of what I think is one of the greatest pop songs ever written. “Toxic” was the like the grown-up, freshly-fucked version of Brit’s first hit “Baby One More Time” that felt like weakened knees after a night with someone who you knew was just terrible for you. This song made us feel reassured that Britney knew what we were going through, and we were going to dance this mess around and maybe see that person one last time.

Postal Service Give Up

An album that could be found in almost every cool kid jukebox, from the dive bars on the Eastside to the throwback diners like the 101 Coffee Shop, where I am a proud alum. Ripping a page out Britney’s idea that heartbreak could be danceable, this is the hipster version with members of Death Cab for Cutie and Riley Kiley (no one does heartbreak quite like Jenny Lewis) leading the charge. Longing and misunderstandings are themes, but with a little synth and a good beat, maybe we can forget we’re emo-sad until the end of the song.

Deerhoof Milkman

Cooler than school, experimental neo-prog by way of San Francisco, this album was one a favorite. Being the daughter of an Emerson, Lake and Palmer roadie, I dig the weird stuff. And Deerhoof is a perfect example. I discovered this album on the Amoeba Staff Picks rack, a moment that I gifted to my character Pete who, of course, has a scene sifting through vinyl at the famed Hollywood record store.

Nick Drake Pink Moon

And as a bonus, here’s an album that didn’t come out in the early-aughts but had an impact on our generation thanks to a Volkswagen commercial. The “Drivers Wanted” campaign was the first time I’d seen a cool car ad that didn’t involve the words “A- Thon” or was filmed in an impersonal, all-white showroom. Reminiscent to the the Smashing Pumpkins’ video for “1979”, it captured that same nostalgic, dreamy aesthetic around friends hanging out. Set in near-total darkness, with no dialogue, it relied solely on eye contact and Nick Drake’s “Pink Moon” to narrate the story of the new Cabrio. The commercial tapped into the youth culture in a sneakily cool way, making us want both the Volkswagen and this song. Nick Drake, who saw little commercial success at the release of this record in the 70s, posthumously became a part of the pop culture landscape.

Fun side note: One of the guys in the commercial was among the first people I met when I moved to L.A. When I dig through old photos, he’s in a bunch of them, which feels like a perfect embodiment of the time.

And that’s a wrap! Thanks for driving down memory lane with me. Click here for the complete Burned CD Mix featuring songs from the many records celebrated and winked at Somewhere in Hollywood.

Somewhere in Hollywood comes out Valentine’s Day on Barre Chord Press!