Music for focus, flow, and a bit of gentle magic
I write in silence — most of the time. But not total silence. There’s usually something playing. Soft. Slow. Clean.
Music that doesn’t intrude, doesn’t ask anything of me.
No lyrics. No hooks. No drama.
Just atmosphere.
When I’m deep in the middle of a chapter, or slowly pulling apart an idea, I need music that opens the space up.
That doesn’t fill the room — it stretches it.
Lets the words hang for a moment before they land.
No Lyrics, Ever
Words in music interrupt the words I’m trying to find.
Even if they’re in another language, even if I think I’m not paying attention — they grab some tiny part of the brain and tug.
Instrumentals, on the other hand, guide the brain.
They shape the mood without telling it what to say.
They draw the ideas out — slowly, cleanly, deliberately.
Artists I Come Back to Again and Again
- Ólafur Arnalds — modern classical, Icelandic melancholy, piano and string textures that feel like breath.
- Max Richter — cinematic, mournful, orchestral minimalism. The Blue Notebooks live in my bones.
- Joep Beving — delicate piano compositions that sound like memory.
- The Flashbulb — glitchy, strange, ambient-electronic with moments of beauty.
- Nils Frahm — atmospheric, unpredictable, full of hiss, hum, and lovely imperfection.
Final Thought
Music while writing is a bit like scent in a room. You don’t need it. But when it’s right, it changes everything.
It makes the space feel ready.
Not full. Not loud. Just open.
Instrumental music doesn’t speak to me — it listens.