Jane Asylum

Jane Asylum

I’ve set-off around the world a few times as a digital nomad. My favorite places are off-the-beaten-path spaces. I enjoy good food, although I’m a sucker for trying anything once. Discovering new music and artists is a passion, but I adore retro tracks and nostalgic songs. Whether fueled by imagination, or anchored in the real world, I live for adventure, especially when set to the beat of diverse and eclectic playlists.

Ready. Set. Join me on a sonic adventure!

Dirty Money – Reality Something

10 December 2019

Music to Play In Your Vintage Mustang
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Every once in a while, you come across a band whose music feels like it has been a part of your listening lexicon forever. Nashville-based Reality Something — whose heart and soul are singer/guitarist Elena Franklin and singer/producer/guitarist Kingsley Brock, accompanied by drummer Ethan Pace and bassist Davis Haley — is one of those bands. 

 From the first moment the industrial grind of their newest single, “Dirty Money,” gives way to Franklin’s siren-like voice, the music grooves magically as if you’ve never not known them. In fact, I’ve loved Reality Something forever, even if they only released their first album in 2018, and I just recently discovered them through this song submitted to Music To.

 The dual vocals of Franklin and Brock warn of the seductive temptations and ultimate futility of using materialism to define yourself. It’s a hook-fueled alt-pop-rock piece that’s as sexy as it is fierce, and it’s sure to have you singing along in your Mustang as if you’ve known the lyrics all along.


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About the Curator - Jane Asylum

When my mother wasn’t walking around the house belting out early 60s’ girl-band lyrics, she was collecting compilation albums, specifically from K-Tel. She may not have had the most refined taste, but she enjoyed variety, or at least that’s what I recall. I poured over them all, preferring some sounds to others. And when I found the perfect song, I’d play it over and over until ready to perform my latest theatrical dance incarnation.

With my family all gathered on floral grey sofas in our basement apartment, I’d set the vinyl on the turntable of a brown fibreboard stereo and not-so-carefully lower the needle. It would pop, screech, and crackle before any music spilled from the weaved-wheat speakers. My toes would press, lift, and sweep through the blue-green shag carpet, my arms would flail, and the music would bass and treble through my soul.

I’m no longer that 6-year-old doing private-audience interpretive dance routines, but my passion remains just as intense. I have no special superpowers as a curator — just my love of sounds and lyrics that transport, transform, move, and make your body groove.

It’s Getting Boring by the Sea – Blood Red Shoes

3 December 2019

Music to Play In Your Vintage Mustang
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Choosing “It’s Getting Boring by the Sea,” from 2008 album Box of Secrets by alt rock duo Blood Red Shoes may seem like a cheeky statement following three awesome surf songs, but it’s really more of my tongue-in-cheek way of moving the playlist away from the sun, surf, and sand (at least for a while).

 Funny enough, the song isn’t even about being bored of the sea or of Brighton, England, which is the hometown of both singer/guitarist Laura-Mary Carter and singer/drummer Steven Ansell. According to Ansell, in an interview with Samantha Daly of DIY Mag in 2017, the duo had wanted to produce something punk with a disco edge and were met with heavy backlash from the music scene they were in at the time. Sounds familiar? You may be having Blondie flashbacks. In reality, this track is a response to the punk scene “being really restrictive, basically boring and really unsexy,” said Ansell.

 It turns out that “It’s Getting Boring by the Sea,” produced by Ansell and Carter in a studio in Kreuzberg, Berlin, is pretty sexy — and seriously pop-catchy. Carter’s rasping guitar and Ansell’s thrashing drums lend a frenetic energy that both complements our playlist to this point and moves it in a different direction. Much like the band, which has since expanded their sound with an electronic component and released Get Tragic in January 2019. It offers up some stellar tracks, including my personal fave, “Mexican Dress.” Check it out if you get the chance.


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About the Curator - Jane Asylum

When my mother wasn’t walking around the house belting out early 60s’ girl-band lyrics, she was collecting compilation albums, specifically from K-Tel. She may not have had the most refined taste, but she enjoyed variety, or at least that’s what I recall. I poured over them all, preferring some sounds to others. And when I found the perfect song, I’d play it over and over until ready to perform my latest theatrical dance incarnation.

With my family all gathered on floral grey sofas in our basement apartment, I’d set the vinyl on the turntable of a brown fibreboard stereo and not-so-carefully lower the needle. It would pop, screech, and crackle before any music spilled from the weaved-wheat speakers. My toes would press, lift, and sweep through the blue-green shag carpet, my arms would flail, and the music would bass and treble through my soul.

I’m no longer that 6-year-old doing private-audience interpretive dance routines, but my passion remains just as intense. I have no special superpowers as a curator — just my love of sounds and lyrics that transport, transform, move, and make your body groove.

Deluxe Electric Ninja Mistress – Daikaiju

26 November 2019

Music to Play In Your Vintage Mustang
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Daikaiju’s “Deluxe Electric Ninja Mistress” sounds more like the name of a sex toy (um, a curiously kinky one, I might add; if any Bad Dragon people are reading this, give me a call) than the title of a surf song. And given the quirky nature of the band delivering it, it wouldn’t be shocking to discover that the inspiration behind this explosive track was precisely that. Even Daikaiju have described their sound, in a rare interview with Liz Tung for Time Out Beijing in 2013, as “Battle Surf Sex Metal.” 

 So, who is Daikaiju? (What is Daikaiju? Why is Daikaiju?) Although much has been speculated, no one quite knows. What is known is that they’re a secretive kabuki mask-wearing quartet from Huntsville, Alabama, and (obviously) that the band members share a love of kaiju films. Then again, who doesn’t? Rodan kicks ass, and so does Daikaiju’s music.

 The band’s catalogue is full of high-octane instrumentals that rip into your soul and explode from the inside out—but not in some freaky Thomas Kane way, even if their tracks sometimes reference aliens. I haven’t been lucky enough to experience their live attacks, despite their insane touring schedule, but it’s said that they often burst out of the venue they’re playing in and ignite (quite literally setting their instruments on fire) onto the street.

 “Deluxe Electric Ninja Mistress,” released last May, is their most recent single and possible precursor to a possibly upcoming Phase 3 album, which remains just as secretive as the band. It’s a fantastic track, but I should warn you: the energy is so addictive that your foot is sure to bear down on the accelerator as you drive—and when it does the cops won’t be far behind. 


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About the Curator - Jane Asylum

When my mother wasn’t walking around the house belting out early 60s’ girl-band lyrics, she was collecting compilation albums, specifically from K-Tel. She may not have had the most refined taste, but she enjoyed variety, or at least that’s what I recall. I poured over them all, preferring some sounds to others. And when I found the perfect song, I’d play it over and over until ready to perform my latest theatrical dance incarnation.

With my family all gathered on floral grey sofas in our basement apartment, I’d set the vinyl on the turntable of a brown fibreboard stereo and not-so-carefully lower the needle. It would pop, screech, and crackle before any music spilled from the weaved-wheat speakers. My toes would press, lift, and sweep through the blue-green shag carpet, my arms would flail, and the music would bass and treble through my soul.

I’m no longer that 6-year-old doing private-audience interpretive dance routines, but my passion remains just as intense. I have no special superpowers as a curator — just my love of sounds and lyrics that transport, transform, move, and make your body groove.

Surf Hell – Little Barrie

19 November 2019

Music to Play In Your Vintage Mustang
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You’re itching to go faster, but we’re sticking close to the coast for another week with Little Barrie’s “Surf Hell” (King of the Waves, 2012).

When I first heard this song, my reaction reminded of the first time I heard Blondie’s “Heart of Glass” when I was a kid, sitting in the backseat of my BFF’s mother’s 1975 gold Camaro of all places—my mom was the one with the Mustang—while she walked into a Mac’s Milk convenience store to sneak-buy a pack of cigarettes, as if we didn’t know. She left the radio on, and when “The Disco Song,” as it was initially known by the band, first entered my ears... I trembled. My young heart had never heard a song quite like it and I had to squeeze through the bucket seats to crank it up.

I no longer tremble over songs like when I was a kid—and I’m sure you don’t either—but Little Barrie’s “Surf Hell” excited me from the get go. My younger self didn’t have a word for that feeling, but now I know the word that best describes what it feels to hear Little Barrie’s “Surf Hell”: sexy. 

“Can feel excitement beating out my chest

Can feel excitement beating out my chest

I only wanted for a night like this

I only wanted for a night like this...”


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About the Curator - Jane Asylum

When my mother wasn’t walking around the house belting out early 60s’ girl-band lyrics, she was collecting compilation albums, specifically from K-Tel. She may not have had the most refined taste, but she enjoyed variety, or at least that’s what I recall. I poured over them all, preferring some sounds to others. And when I found the perfect song, I’d play it over and over until ready to perform my latest theatrical dance incarnation.

With my family all gathered on floral grey sofas in our basement apartment, I’d set the vinyl on the turntable of a brown fibreboard stereo and not-so-carefully lower the needle. It would pop, screech, and crackle before any music spilled from the weaved-wheat speakers. My toes would press, lift, and sweep through the blue-green shag carpet, my arms would flail, and the music would bass and treble through my soul.

I’m no longer that 6-year-old doing private-audience interpretive dance routines, but my passion remains just as intense. I have no special superpowers as a curator — just my love of sounds and lyrics that transport, transform, move, and make your body groove.

St. Nazaire – Pixies

12 November 2019

Music to Play In Your Vintage Mustang
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Pixies’ Beneath the Eyrie is just about as great an album as the first one I bought — Doolittle (1989) — after pinching together enough pennies while working as a waitress and paying my way through university. I bought it because “Wave of Mutilation” was the coolest song I’d ever heard (that week), although I can’t recall whether it was in rotation on the alt-rock radio station I listened to, or in rotation at a friend’s house. Whatever the case, I couldn’t get enough of the band, and 30 years on, I can’t get enough of them again. 

 There isn’t a single track on this album that I felt the need to skip. In fact, the more I listen to it in its entirety, the more I hear and the more I fall in love. And while just about any of the songs would play well in your vintage Mustang, it’s their aggressive fuck you surf-punk/spy-rock/psychobilly (so many layers) St. Nazaire that slams you onto the open highway and sends you barrelling toward the coast.

 Play it loud. It’s the only way to experience it.


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About the Curator - Jane Asylum

When my mother wasn’t walking around the house belting out early 60s’ girl-band lyrics, she was collecting compilation albums, specifically from K-Tel. She may not have had the most refined taste, but she enjoyed variety, or at least that’s what I recall. I poured over them all, preferring some sounds to others. And when I found the perfect song, I’d play it over and over until ready to perform my latest theatrical dance incarnation.

With my family all gathered on floral grey sofas in our basement apartment, I’d set the vinyl on the turntable of a brown fibreboard stereo and not-so-carefully lower the needle. It would pop, screech, and crackle before any music spilled from the weaved-wheat speakers. My toes would press, lift, and sweep through the blue-green shag carpet, my arms would flail, and the music would bass and treble through my soul.

I’m no longer that 6-year-old doing private-audience interpretive dance routines, but my passion remains just as intense. I have no special superpowers as a curator — just my love of sounds and lyrics that transport, transform, move, and make your body groove.

Be Alright – The Dandy Warhols

31 October 2019

Music to Play In Your Vintage Mustang
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From their 2019 album Why You So Crazy, the plucky piano in this back-to-the-roots single by the Dandy Warhols is the perfect transition from Link Wray’s “Right Turn.”

A few other songs from the band’s 25-year, 10-studio-album catalogue — like “(Tony, This Song Is Called) Lou Weed,” from Dandy’s Rule Ok (1995), or maybe even “Get Off,” from Thirteen Tales from Urban Bohemia (2000) — might seem a better fit for some first-generation Mustang drivers, but the fuzzed out rumble in “Be Alright” puts a measured foot to the metal that drives you firmly into third gear and glides you toward the highway.

Drummer Brent DeBoer had the inspiration for “Be Alright” during a 12-hour overseas flight and smashed the lyrics out on his laptop in one go, according to frontman Courtney Taylor-Taylor in a podcast interview with Kyle Meredith. And just to add a dash more travel to the mix, the corresponding video features Mad Men alumna Jessica Paré indulging “magic wine” (from connoisseur Taylor-Taylor’s private stash, no doubt), before guiding viewers through a trippy 360° tour of the Dandy’s Portland, Oregon recording studio/party space/headquarters, The Odditorium.

I wouldn’t encourage partaking in any magic wine while listening to “Be Alright” — at least not while driving — but as you ache to go faster, this song helps you keep your cool through city streets, before drifting up the on-ramp and pushing your pony into fourth.


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About the Curator - Jane Asylum

When my mother wasn’t walking around the house belting out early 60s’ girl-band lyrics, she was collecting compilation albums, specifically from K-Tel. She may not have had the most refined taste, but she enjoyed variety, or at least that’s what I recall. I poured over them all, preferring some sounds to others. And when I found the perfect song, I’d play it over and over until ready to perform my latest theatrical dance incarnation.

With my family all gathered on floral grey sofas in our basement apartment, I’d set the vinyl on the turntable of a brown fibreboard stereo and not-so-carefully lower the needle. It would pop, screech, and crackle before any music spilled from the weaved-wheat speakers. My toes would press, lift, and sweep through the blue-green shag carpet, my arms would flail, and the music would bass and treble through my soul.

I’m no longer that 6-year-old doing private-audience interpretive dance routines, but my passion remains just as intense. I have no special superpowers as a curator — just my love of sounds and lyrics that transport, transform, move, and make your body groove.

Right Turn – Link Wray

31 October 2019

Music to Play In Your Vintage Mustang
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“Right Turn” isn’t exactly a vintage Mustang-era-defining song. It’s not even rock ‘n’ roller Link Wray’s most defining piece from his band’s 1960 self-titled debut album, Link Wray & The Wraymen. In fact, similar to his rebel-rousing “Rumble,” which earned the Shawnee guitarist the title Father of the Power Chord, and the distinction of being the first-ever instrumental song censored off U.S. radio, this single is from 1958 — four years before Mustang was a sperm (or egg) of a thought.

Some might think this an unusual choice for a playlist revolving around 60s and 70s era-defining and -inspired music, but let’s face it, no one actually jumps into their vintage Mustang (or any other car for that matter) and starts playing a song from its assembly line year. Not usually, at least. 

So why Link Wray’s “Right Turn”? Picture this: You’re idling as the garage door opens. Your foot is itching. You shift into first and hit the gas... coasting out into a residential area where the speed limit is 25 mph (or 40 km/h, which sounds faster but is just as s-l-o-w). You make a right turn toward the highway and pick up a little speed, but you’re not on the main drag yet: a stop sign, a red light, a crosswalk, a kid’s soccer ball rolling into the street. You’re holding back. You’re still amped to be in your car, though. It is a Mustang, after all, and the open highway is right around the corner.


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You can learn more about Link Wray here:


About the Curator - Jane Asylum

When my mother wasn’t walking around the house belting out early 60s’ girl-band lyrics, she was collecting compilation albums, specifically from K-Tel. She may not have had the most refined taste, but she enjoyed variety, or at least that’s what I recall. I poured over them all, preferring some sounds to others. And when I found the perfect song, I’d play it over and over until ready to perform my latest theatrical dance incarnation.

With my family all gathered on floral grey sofas in our basement apartment, I’d set the vinyl on the turntable of a brown fibreboard stereo and not-so-carefully lower the needle. It would pop, screech, and crackle before any music spilled from the weaved-wheat speakers. My toes would press, lift, and sweep through the blue-green shag carpet, my arms would flail, and the music would bass and treble through my soul.

I’m no longer that 6-year-old doing private-audience interpretive dance routines, but my passion remains just as intense. I have no special superpowers as a curator — just my love of sounds and lyrics that transport, transform, move, and make your body groove.