One of the things I’m trying to articulate in Quiet is how sound can be a maker of space.

Sound as distinct from noise, whatever that means to you. Sound not simply as a thing that births rhythm, or movement, but actual space – collective and individual, psychological and physical – room in which to exist on one’s own terms to think, to feel. To become or, sometimes better, to come undone, to lose, to forget oneself enough to remember again. All of that. Just for a little while.

Each of the songs on this playlist have served space-making purposes. Many of them put me in mind of specific poems from the book, and for those who have Quiet already, I don’t mind giving these away. ‘Red Room’ by Hiatus Kaiyote works as an additional epigraph to the whole of the central section, ‘Interiors’. Nick Hakim’s melancholy ‘WHOO’ holds hands with the poem ‘There You Are’. Both song and poem are preoccupied with wanting to do better by oneself, to survive. Meanwhile, ‘Dreamboat’ by Joviale contains something of the spirit of the poem ‘Whose Name Means Honey’, and the sensual abandon of Esperanza Spalding’s ‘Touch In Mine’ relates to ‘Leavetaking’. Finally, Oscar #Worldpeace’s ‘No White God’ is kindred to the collection’s opening poem, ‘Declaration’.

Writers often speak about the importance of time and space – chances to shape into words what is seen and heard in the head. And yet, in their absence, even when I’m not writing or haven’t for a while, it’s always music that unlocks rooms inside me, reminds me of what’s there. Even if I have to come back again later. A melody assists; a chord unjams a door, and the words come.

Listen to the playlist: