"As a writer, I’ve had to contend with a curse that may be less rare than is generally supposed: I cannot bear to hear a single musical chord, no matter how golden it may be, while trying to lay down a sentence. Music infallibly blocks my flow of language. This is because I can’t help but listen with my entire attention, whether the tune is trashy or sublime. The musicians I knew as a teenager in New York had an aura about them, like athletes, as if an essential aspect of their being was in abeyance between gigs. I wanted to approach writing the same way: chops up, and ready to pour forth when it counted. Maybe this explains why, after a day of writing, I crave music so keenly. I am especially drawn to singers who seem to spill a drop of blood while making sure their lyrics can be heard."
Greenberg's playlist....