Endtroducing...

Welcome to Thoughts of a Certain Sound, a new publication—part newsletter, part zine, part journal—examining contemporary culture through a musical lens.

My name is Chris Zaldua, and I'm a Bay Area-based writer, music obsessive, and event organizer (or "culture producer," if I'm feeling louche). I've been writing about music for about 25 years; some of my earliest work is still online, like this 2002 review, written when I was 17 years old, of a Robert Rich concert at the Cowell Theater in Fort Mason, a repurposed military base located along the northern waterside of San Francisco. Since then, my work has been published in the San Francisco Chronicle, Fact Magazine, Resident Advisor, Vice/Noisey, and beyond. Later in 2024, my work will be published in a book for the first time, collected as part of an anthology for the New York-based Writing on Raving reading series.

Broadly, this publication will cover "left-field" music of all kinds, which is to say: music that slips between styles and sounds, that crosses boundaries, that resists definition. Club music, yes; music that's definitely not for the club, also yes. Music that connects with its history; music that isn't like the other records. And music that occupies a very particular niche, and knows that niche inside and out, and embodies that niche unabashedly: sometimes a power pop or doom metal or icy '90s techstep record just really hits the spot and satisfies in a way nothing else can, like a chilled Modelo on a warm summer evening.

Besides my work as a writer, I've been involved in music—the community and the industry, and everything in between—for over a decade now. I launched and co-produced two San Francisco club nights, called Surface Tension and Vague Terrain, bringing artists like Inga Copeland, Beau Wanzer, Orphx, Djrum, M.E.S.H., Bufiman, and DJ Marcelle out to the city, many for the first time. I co-founded a record label, Left Hand Path, releasing music that crossed over from techno to post-punk and back again. I worked at a nightclub. After the genuinely unthinkable horror of Ghost Ship in Oakland, I spoke on radio shows and with newspaper reporters, trying to correct the narrative after losing more than a dozen friends overnight. I ran communications (and booked half the lineup) for the first edition of an aspirational San Francisco electronic music festival that, ultimately, wasn't meant to be. I've written release copy for several of my favorite record labels—maybe some of yours. I interviewed Jeff Mills live on stage in front of an audience. I've DJ'd warehouses, big clubs, small clubs, house parties, DIY venues, open-airs, pregames, afters, breweries, wine bars, and once, the small side room of a basement club in Taipei, where, after being awake for 27 hours (jet lag), I played Peverelist's "Dance Til The Police Come" at 3:30 a.m. and totally cleared the floor.

In other words: I haven't yet done it all, but I've done enough to know what I'm talking about. And I'm getting old, but not so old that I no longer care. And so here we are.

Following this introduction, each week will focus on one of four themes:

1. Now Listening: Impressions, micro-reviews, roundups of recent listens.
   
2. Words With: Interviews and conversations with artists, musicians, selectors, producers, organizers, creators—people who make music, who build community, who make things happen.
   
3. Longform: Essay-type ruminations, reflections, and explications on ideas, concepts, or phenomena. 
   
4. Look Back: In-depth writing on timeless older records that deserve fresh consideration—or republished works from my own archive. 

Additionally, every week includes a "micro-feature" called Visual Interest, showcasing the work of talented photographers, artists, designers, and illustrators that I'm connected to. I'll run a new artist's work every four to five weeks, and artists are paid a fee to feature their work in this publication.

Coming up are interviews with Oakland artists-creators-curators Cone Shape Top and polyrhythmic techno-jazz practitioners Polygonia and Simon Popp; essays on connection in the age of the algorithm; deep dives on CS + Kreme's Snoopy; and more besides. If you've enjoyed my writing in the past, or you simply resonate with this introduction, I'd love for you to subscribe and keep up with what's coming next. 

Thanks for reading—see you next time.