Mixtape: Loops by Zack Zimbler
Exploring the dizzy life of a New York City quarantine.
Our latest mixtape comes from my old friend Zack Zimbler.1 Zack lives in New York where he works for The Food Network as a producer, writer, and softball coach. In addition to having cool initials, Zack is one of those classic New Yorkers you hear about in life. He rides the subway, he has a Yankees hat, he tolerates pigeons—the whole nine yards.
And while The Food Network would not officially entertain the idea of a sponsorship deal with this mixtape club—which is, to reiterate, named after a food—Zack has crafted us a really thoughtful and extremely well-executed mixtape exploring New York life in the time of coronavirus. I mean, you’ve heard of Spin City, but this is something else!2
Give it a listen and read our discussion below.
Listen → Loops by Zack Zimbler
GREEN BANANAS: As we all know, COVID has curled its grinch fingers around just about everything these days, and I don’t think this mix is any exception. Can you walk us through your mixtape?
ZZ: I remember going to the Liberty Science Center on a class field trip and dropping a quarter into the spiral wishing well. First it starts out rolling around in these big, slow loops. Then it keeps going, making tighter and tighter rotations and getting faster and faster until it falls into the center of the table. It’s mesmerizing to watch (especially as a kid), but also a little dizzying and disorienting. That’s what quarantine’s felt like for me. That’s kind of how this playlist feels.
I’m sorry, but before we move on—did you say there was a wishing well at the science center?
If you’ll excuse me, I have to go call my congresswoman.
I think “dizzying” and “disorienting” are perfect words to describe this mixtape. The opening track (“Skipping Rocks”) really reminds me of “Be” by Common (which is also an opening track). It’s warm and pleasant and inviting. It makes me feel like we’re about to go bounding off to some better place. But then things immediately turn back inward with “WATCHUWANT.” And so the loops begin.
I don’t want to put words in your mouth, but yes, I think Common and I do have a lot in... shit. But more to your point, and sorry about the sharp left turn, but to me a lot of this playlist is about mental health; that push and pull between what’s being said and what’s not. Personally, I’ve had a lot of moments recently where I’m “Skipping Rocks” on the outside and screaming “WATCHUWANT” on the inside.
I’m writing this and listening to this mixtape in LA, but this mix puts me back in New York. It makes me feel like I’m being compressed the way that only New York can. Like a force is acting upon me and I cannot escape it. Los Angeles doesn’t have that—it’s just this sprawling airy urban pancake.
It’s definitely not what I picture you blasting as you drive down the PCH, drinking your avocado kombucha while your pet iguana’s vaping in the back seat. To me it feels more immediate. That’s how I see NY, and I’m always surprised by people’s lack of immediacy when I’m traveling somewhere. Like, aren’t you afraid if you stand around too long a taxi’s gonna jump a curb and take you out? Or an AC unit is just gonna fall from an apartment and leave you sprawled out on the ground like the ‘Mista Mista’ lady? (Two actual thoughts I had today.) Did I mention I was feeling a bit anxious recently?
When would you listen to this mixtape in your own personal life? When does a Zachary Zimbler open Spotify and press play on Loops? What’s he up to? Because this mixtape definitely has a little bit of a mood to it.
It’s a good mix for when I’m feeling anxious. Which has been more frequent this the past year. Quarantine can get really monotonous, and that’s hard to deal with sometimes. A lot of these electronic songs help me get past that monotony, and find the brighter side of repetition. It can be good to work out to. It’s great to wash dishes to. My wife hates the song “When A Fire Starts To Burn,” so I can blast it if we’re having a fight.
Listen, I’ve heard of guerrilla warfare. And I’ve heard of “Guerrilla Radio.” But radio warfare? I mean, this is getting ridiculous, Zack!
My wife does not follow current music. She’s more a Henry Mancini and three-martini-lunch kind of gal. But every now and again she’ll play me a song from a few years ago like it came out that day. I should play her some “Guerilla Radio” and really blow her mind!
But I’m glad you bring up repetition, because you’ve accomplished something very interesting here in that regard: Nearly every song on this mixtape is repetitive, but the mixtape itself is not. And if you ask me, that’s what does the trick here and creates this feeling of being in motion, but not traveling anywhere.
Give in to the power of the tea...
Thanks to the metadata provided to me by our benevolent overlord, Spotify, I know that you added “Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad?” by Moby and “When A Fire Starts To Burn” by Disclosure to the playlist first. Then, a couple weeks later, added “Can’t Do Without You” by Caribou. No other songs were added until almost a month later. What’s the deal?
What’s the deal with metadata??? Spotify can give you a better timeline than I can, but I will say it was a tough decision whether to include the album version of “Something For Your M.I.N.D.” or the el_der remix. The original is like a candy bar. The remix is like a candy bar dipped in chocolate and topped with Pop Rocks.
I would listen to "Purely Physical" on my commutes back from Brooklyn before Covid. I was playing in a morning basketball game and on my way back the Court Sq station was full of people starting their commute, and I was just trying to get back to my apartment so I could change and head back out to work. That song was the last push I needed to get past the crowds and back home.
The way your wife feels about “When A Fire Starts To Burn” is the way I feel about “Purely Physical.” Or at least it was the first time through this mixtape. But once you really lock into it, the whole mix just kind of becomes hypnotic. And you completely forget that the song is almost six-and-a-half minutes long.
It’s also how I felt about Peloton. But now I’m like...
While we’re on hypnosis, it’s so cool that Feist got Hypnotoad to remix “My Moon My Man.” Such a nice touch to include that here.
Loops II is gonna have the Alan Chipmunk version of India.Arie’s “Video”.
The transition from “My Moon My Man” into “Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad?” is one of my favorite parts on this mixtape. It’s not a super dynamic moment or anything, I just think it was done very subtly and adeptly.
Yeah I know what you mean. For me it’s that difference between writing with a lot of metaphor and imagery, to that biting, straightforward prose. “MMMM” tells this story about unraveling, and you can feel the narrator’s vulnerability ebbing and flowing throughout (“Heart on my sleeve, not where it should be”). Then on “WDMHFSB” the narrator is seemingly baring everything in a very clear, if not devastating, way.
So what is your favorite moment on this mixtape? Not your favorite moment in a song on this mixtape, but your favorite moment on the mixtape. Does that make sense?
Total sense! And I have a very specific answer. It’s going from “NY is Killing Me” to “California” (but I think maybe you already knew that?). I’ve had so many friends move from New York to the west coast over the years, and every time it happens I’m like, "damn, should we move to the west coast?" The answer is always no, I love it here too much. But I’ve often had the thought that NY is literally killing me. But now it’s killing me more that I can’t experience it fully. And it kills me that I may never get to experience it in ways that I used to. I miss all the places I can’t go, even the ones I’m pissed at for stealing the people I love.
I mean—I love you, too, buddy. I feel like now I know why your heart feels so bad. I’m sorry I ripped it out when I moved to LA. And while I don’t want to say I definitely knew that was your favorite moment on the mixtape, if you put a gun to my head... well, I wouldn’t be surprised after how badly I’ve hurt you.
I love you, too, man.
But, seriously, I also genuinely love this moment on the mixtape just about as much as I love talking about the differences between NY and LA—which is to say: very, very much. “NY Is Killing Me” and “California” work so well together not only thematically, but because both songs—particularly the vocals—are a little unhinged and have this arresting undercurrent of derangement to them. And that’s about where we are in the spiral at this point in the mix.
Yeah, it actually worked out with the character lengths of those two song titles as well. When you look at the playlist it’s kind of corkscrewing downward until you hit rock bottom and that awesomely bizarre song by The Son(s), which is like...a bedtime song for a sailor? But yeah, let’s call this Act 2.
You know, I was going to ask you about whether the length of the song titles was intentional, but decided I might just be fishing. I should have known that a film buff like yourself would be working visually, too. But back to music: we use the terms “Side A” and “Side B” here.
Okay, okay! Side B starts with everyone’s favorite, “When a Fire Starts to Burn,” and kind of starts unraveling from there. There’s this manic uncontrollability like “when is this ride going to end?” “I want to get off.” “This is not what I signed up for.” Until we’re reunited with our pal, Loyle. And there’s this cool moment at the end of that song, “Krispy,” in which he leaves a few bars blank, in the hope that the estranged friend he’s been singing about will somehow hear it and fill in the rest of the words. It’s a love letter really, and to me that’s what it all comes back to. We’re out of control and feeling like we’ve been thrown in the spin cycle and then we just fall, and hopefully we fall into the arms of someone who loves us... and wants to assuage our fears of sleeping near sharks?? (honestly is that what the song is trying to say???)
There’s a heretofore unwritten rule about mixtapes wherein it is poor form to include more than one song from the same artist. But, like most rules, it can be broken if done judiciously. This mixtape contains two Loyle Carner songs and I was going to ask you to defend that decision, but I think you already have. Those songs are touchstones that tie the whole mixtape together.
Exactly. And we’re also hearing two completely different people on those tracks. One is Loyle, and the other is a recording of the poet Stevie Smith, who wrote the album’s namesake. It’s cool when artists try to imagine impossible conversations across time and space—Smith died two decades before Carner was born—like the engineered interview between Kendrick and Tupac at the end of To Pimp a Butterfly. There’s something that feels incredibly supportive, and supported, about those imagined conversations, something that shows a real vulnerability and willingness to express they may not have all the answers. That they need help putting into words what they themselves can’t quite explain. I also just love the way Smith says “ordinary sort of chaps.”
That part makes me feel like I’m watching BoJack Horseman. You too?
Yes! It’s like the entire Fish Out of Water episode. He spends the whole episode frantically waving at people, being misunderstood by everyone around him because they can’t hear him with his underwater oxygen helmet on. So they just treat him how they think a celebrity wants to or should be treated. And then at the very end of the episode as he’s getting ready to leave, he finds the talk button on his helmet. Brilliant!
And finally, if you will, let’s bring this full circle: where does the title of this mixtape come from?
It’s kind of a reminder to stick with something even if it feels like a closed loop, because it may look flat when you’re staring head on, but then you move your head to the side to see it’s actually a spiral with depth and dimension.
Thanks to Zack for knocking this one out of the park. If you’re interested in following along with the rest of his classic New York exploits—(grabbing a slice of pizza, anyone?)—check him out on Instagram.
Now the next time I’m cruising down the PCH, sipping Avobucho™3 on my way to get more JUULpods for Louie4 and my mind starts to drift back to New York and how much I miss it… I’ll feel a little less left out knowing that even the people who live there miss it, too.
But seriously, it’s hard out there right now. The city can make you dizzy. Take care of yourself. I hope this music helped. And I really hope you enjoyed the footnotes because they’re not going anywhere and I do not apologize for them… but you’d know that already if you read them.
That’s all for now, but there’s more to come soon—very soon. I promise. In fact, now would be a good time to sign up if you haven’t already. Big things to come. Big things.
Stay safe. Stay sane.
But hello to my new friend, footnotes! This is advanced warning that I am going to be abusing this function of Substack as long as it is available for me to abuse. I do not apologize for it.
Spin City was an ABC sitcom about New York and this is a Spotify mixtape about New York.
Avobucho is my new brand of all natural, organic, cage-free avocado-based kombucha. Available now at gyms you can’t afford memberships to.
The first name of my aforementioned pet iguana.