This playlist is a sonic archive of the chapters of my life and their relation to Jakarta. It recounts the period from when I was a teenager in Yogyakarta who thought of Jakarta as a far away, out of reach city, to the time when I was an aspiring indie musician trying to get the attention from the cool people in the capital city, and finally to the time when I have become one of them: a jaded worker in the metropolitan area, who always find solace in music.
The following playlist is a compilation of late 2000s to early 2020s indie pop music videos and performances that have shaped my approach to Jakarta musically.
I spent my teenage years in the 2000s in Yogyakarta (also known as Jogja), a smaller city 500 km to the East of Jakarta. This decade covered the formative years of my life –when I subconsciously built my music repertoire through available media such as local radio stations and national television channels. I perceived jangly guitars from popular indie bands like Minoru, and electronic compositions from units such as Rock N Roll Mafia to be the distinct sounds of what Jakarta should be. As a matter of fact, I was mistaken because actually Minoru and Rock N Roll Mafia are all from Bandung! Another city with vibrant pop culture 2 hours away from Jakarta, the Bandung indie scene was thriving in the 2000s – they gave us gems such as the bands I mentioned earlier, and more. A poor little Jogja girl like me could not differentiate between the two scenes—I thought that both Bandung and Jakarta were similarly out of reach for me.
Later in the 2010s, I encountered the magic of early releases by Kolibri Rekords, a small but bold label, who channeled my love for dreampop. I enlisted my favorite tracks from their original rosters Bedchamber, Gizpel, and Kaveh Kanes. Kolibri eventually released my band’s first and only album, Magical Objects—they even created a lovely short film as a music video for a single in our album, which I listed in the playlist below.
Finally, the four last songs I included in the playlist were notable songs that I listened to during some momentous times in the Jakarta chapter of my life.
I moved to this city in 2017. At that time, a 27-year-old junior, I was already too old to be a cub reporter for a dying newspaper during print journalism’s sunset era. Newspapers were no longer read, but used to wrap street snacks, while BuzzFeed style content thrived online. Still, I tried my best to learn and be a respected reporter worthy of shouldering the legacy of The Jakarta Post.
Navigating a new life in this megapolitan, I felt every day was a challenge. I had to wake up to the day’s journalistic tasks—many of which I knew nothing about or never heard of. By the end of the day, I was expected to be a master of that topic and had written a smart analysis worthy of being published. Those years were exhausting and stressful – I hated the politicians I had to chase to get quotes, the cringe influencers sprinkled in movie screenings, the smug social analysts and veteran activists with a holier-than-thou attitude.
But then COVID hit. The world stood still. We no longer needed to go out to go to work. I was confined to my 3x4 studio bedroom, trying to get interviews from expert sources through my 13” laptop and my building’s slow wifi speed. And then I decided that maybe it was time to go back to Jogja. I could work from there. I did not need to physically be in Jakarta anymore. I said adios to this stinking, sinking city.
And then I packed my belongings and moved back to my parents’ house in my hometown. And then I hated it. I couldn’t live in Jogja anymore. I missed Jakarta. I missed the angry people, the crazy traffic jams, and the humid weather. I missed my friends who equally hated the city and equally dreamt of leaving the capital city and rebuilt their mothers’ houses in their hometowns.
So then I repacked my bags, searched online for another studio bedroom to rent in South Jakarta, and moved back.
During those contemplative moments—when I mourned the loss of my innocence to journalistic works, up to the realization that I have embraced this city as my home, I listened to a lot of Jirapah, Bin Idris, and Banda Neira. Texpack’s collaboration with poet Edo Wallad was a heartfelt ode to the area of Gadog, a crowded, relatively cheaper area in Bogor between Jakarta’s administrative area and Puncak, the hilly touristy town frequented by Jakartans who needed a little bit of greenery. Many people who work and rent small studio bedrooms in Jakarta like me originated from Gadog. These people, as mentioned in the song: fashion stylists, lifestyle journalists, graphic designers, copywriters – share this space with blue collar people: bricklayers, drivers, street food vendors… and they are all, always and forever, are prayers.
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Santamonica - Paper Dolls
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Rock N Roll Mafia - Zsa Zsa Zsu
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Minoru - Merindukanmu
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Gizpel - Zittau
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Kaveh Kanes - Tiger in Your Tank
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bedchamber - Perennial
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Seahoarse - Across The Table
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Jirapah - Planetarium
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Texpack, Edo Wallad - Gadog
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Banda Neira - Utarakan
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Bin Idris - Temaram
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