A URL of My Own

Disquiet.com at 29: things become things

December 13, 2025, marks the 29th anniversary of the day I bought the URL disquiet.com. On December 13, 1996, I submitted the paperwork to make the purchase. This involved a fax machine and a photocopy machine and a phone call. I’d had server space, accessible by http:// on nascent Internet (it was capitalized back then) browsers, for several years, but up until that point I’d never had — to borrow the formulation from Virginia Woolf and, in between, Michael Pollan — a URL of my own. I feel like it was all http:// back then, and I’m not certain when the move to https:// fully set in. The added “S” stands, I believe, for “security,” which may say something about the postdiluvian internet we now inhabit.

The word “blog” reportedly didn’t arrive until 1999, but a blog Disquiet.com was. Along the way, a friend of mine, the illustrator and designer Jorge Colombo, proposed I add datelines next to posts. Jorge commented that adding dates to posts would aid returning regular readers in situating themselves in the flow of information. Little did either of us know how much of the rest of our lives would involve situating ourselves in the flow of information.

Today, in 2025, a dateline may seem inherent in the concept of blogging, but before there were blogs there things becoming blogs, much as before “social media” there was “microblogging.” Things become things. That was the case in more ways than one with Disquiet.com. At first the website was just remnants of my server-stage web content, and then it was articles I first published elsewhere, notably in the music magazines of Tower Records (Pulse!, Classical Pulse!, and epulse), which I had, toward the close of 1996, just stopped working at as an editor in order to start a gig at a company of the sort that was then called a dot-com and is now called a startup. (Lest anyone jump to conclusions, I did not get rich, nor was that the expectation. It was a job.)

Much like with the adding of publication dates to individual posts, I stumbled upon the idea of posting directly to Disquiet.com. People would say things like, “Hey, great interview, when’s the next one?” And I’d say, “Well, first I need to get assigned a freelance article, and then it needs to get published” — this was 1996 and 1997, so I meant in print — “and then enough time needs to go by that I feel comfortable posting it online.” And eventually one of the people who asked this question of me must have said something like, “Hey, why don’t you just write, ya know, for Disquiet.com?” And so I did.

This was all being coded by hand, by the way. Disquiet.com continued to be all hand-coded HTML, including the eventual RSS feed, from 1996 until 2007, when I paid someone to port it all to WordPress. I think about this phase of my life a lot, and on the 13th of each December each year, if I have the time — as I have a bit of today, after a walk to the ocean and back —  I jot down the memories. I’m interested to look back and see how details shift and are clarified and gain (and provide) context as the years go by.

I should mention that my pre-vanity-URL Internet server space had simply come along with the ISP (Internet Service Provider) subscription that enabled a dial-up connection in my apartment. The fact that the ISP subscription included server space says something about the sort of people who were using dial-up service at that time. Today, internet access doesn’t come with, let alone encourage, the use of personally identifiable space online; that change may say something as well, something about how the internet has transformed from a loose many-to-many system to an archipelago of commercial platforms. I avoided the word “blog” for a long time, enjoying being able to note, as a kind of honorary digital native, that my website preceded the word, so I was grandfathered in as something else, something less easily characterized. As time passed, however, a funny thing happened. I stopped disliking the word blog and started encouraging its use. More than ever, I think blogging is important. I think more people should have URLs of their own.

Next year will mark Disquiet.com’s 30th anniversary. Looks like we’ll have at least one live event in the San Francisco Bay Area to note it. Maybe some other activities, too. I never know with anniversaries if the lead up to or the time after is the “celebration zone,” so I guess I have roughly two years to have fun with.

29th / 14th Anniversaries Inbound

A lot of years, a lot of music

From the email that subscribers to the Disquiet Junto project announcement list will receive early tomorrow, Thursday, December 11:

This coming Saturday, December 13, will mark the 29th anniversary of when I founded disquiet.com, my blog — though in 1996, of course, that word didn’t exist yet. That’s the year I moved to San Francisco from Sacramento, to which I’d moved from Brooklyn seven years earlier, a year out of college, to start a job as an editor at the music magazines published by Tower Records. That’s a lot of years, and a lot of music, and a lot of words.

Meanwhile, the Junto is coming up on its 14th anniversary, as of the first week of January 2026 — meaning around this time next year, we’ll be looking right into the 30th anniversary of the site, and the 15th of this community. For which I have much to be thankful. And which is to say, thanks, as always, for your generosity with your time, creativity, and curiosity.

On Repeat: Dessner Score, Autechre Covers

Home/office playlist

On Sundays I try to at least quickly note some of my favorite listening from the week prior — things I would later regret having not written about in more depth, so better to share here briefly than not at all.

▰ I can’t remember the last time I’d been alerted to an album’s release by as many old friends and internet friends as I have been thanks to Shane Parish’s set of guitar covers of music by Autechre. The full album, titled Autechre Guitar in a way that gives no due to the effort entailed, isn’t due out until February 27, 2026, but the first two tracks are out on Bandcamp. Give a listen to the first track, “Maetl,” off the great Incunabula, from way back in 1993:

[bandcamp width=100% height=120 album=940875574 size=large bgcol=ffffff linkcol=0687f5 tracklist=false artwork=small]

and then listen to the original. I’ll almost certain detail additional impressions in advance as the album’s release approaches.

▰ I haven’t seen the movie Train Dreams, but I’ve been listening to Bryce Dessner’s score on repeat. The mix of Americana and post-classical will earn it comparisons at brief moments to Aaron Copland, but there’s much more than that, including a hint of Gavin Bryars in the messy layers of “Home I.” There is a lot going on, and it all holds together.

▰ Major thanks to this YouTube channel for posting a full set of ambient jazz from guitarist Jakob Bro (its his name atop the trio), electronically mediated trumpeter Arve Henriksen, and drummer Jorge Rossy. Recorded May 18, 2024, and uploaded around then, but I only recently became aware of it.

▰ Absolutely transportative set by Hania Raini recorded at at Cercle Odyssey in Mexico City, Mexico. Like Nils Frahm, she essentially places an entire studio’s worth of equipment around her on stage and performs solo. I believe it was recorded April 26, 2025. Given the emphasis on surround visuals, I think of it as “IMAX techno.”

▰ The trio of Ståle Storløkken (“keys and organ”), Eivind Aarset (guitar), and Audun Kleive (drums) has something rhythmically fantastic going on, downright funky, in a tight, minimal, off-kilter way. I believe this was recorded May 24, 2025.

Scratch Pad: Break Mode

From the past week

At the end of each week, I usually collate a lightly edited collection of recent comments I’ve made on social media, which I think of as my public scratch pad — and I tag on what books I may have finished reading. Knowing I’ll revisit my social media posts serves, I’ve found, as a positive and mellowing influence on my online activity. I mostly hang out on Mastodon (at post.lurk.org/@disquiet), and I’m also trying out a few others. And I generally take weekends off social media.

Right now, though, I’m on a more extended social media (and adjacent) break, through the start of January 2026. Which raises the question: when I’m on such a hiatus, what constitutes this site’s Scratch Pad, since it is by definition a collation of stuff I posted to social media throughout the given previous week? Apparently it’s random notes I make to myself that I would have posted online, plus bits I’ve sent to friends via email and other means. Just because I’ve stopped posting doesn’t mean my brain has stopped making posts. Anyhow, here’s this past week’s roundup:

▰ There’s something orderly about a month that begins on a Monday, almost as if all months should.

▰ In just over a year, come 2027, it’ll be the 300th anniversary of Benjamin Franklin’s original Junto, and the occasion will be noted and celebrated.

▰ Barbershop scene report: seven men in a small storefront room with the Kinks’ “Come On Now” playing. And yes it’s been a while since I got my hair cut.

▰ The song I listened to most this year on YouTube Music, per the “recap,” was a song I’d written an article about, naturally: Dandy Livingstone’s “Rudy, a Message to You,” for 72 minutes total. Rounding out the top five: some Hildegard von Bingen, by the Sixteen, the opening tracks on their album Angel of Peace; the seventh track on Nils Frahm’s Music for Animals, “Right Right Right”; the third track on Barker’s Stochastic Drift, “Difference and Repetition”; and the Specials’ cover of that Dandy Livingstone song. Also according to the YouTube end-of-year wrap-up, I am in the top 3% of listeners to the music of Trent Reznor.

▰ I keep an eye on Metallica’s ever-expanding public archive of live shows. I enjoyed this detail from the most recent one:

And for bonus “charm,” the tape flip (IYKYK) lands right in the middle of “Fade to Black.”

Oddly the annotation doesn’t appear on the tape’s webpage, just in the solicitation email.

▰ I was just looking at the Wikipedia page for the Oblique Strategies card deck, the famed collaboration between Brian Eno and Peter Schmidt, and I noticed that the main photo (upper right corner of the page) of the deck is by none other than Cory Doctorow, who uploaded it to his Flickr account with a Creative Commons license in 2013 — Flickr (launched 2004), Creative Commons (2001), and Wikipedia (also 2001) being part of the older web, if not the old web.

▰ I was using Safari as my main browser, but it lagged and hung too often, so I moved to Zen, which was excellent but also eventually did the same. This is on an M1 MacBook Pro 14”. So at some friends’ recommendation, I moved to Vivaldi, which is sort of a sequel to the browser Opera. I found Opera, back in the day, a bit baroque, so to speak, but Vivaldi is streamlined and full of little touches I appreciate — including the ability, with the click of a button, to enter “break mode,” which mutes and blanks out every single tab, a welcome respite-by-command.

▰ I definitely fell back into the habit of reading too many books at the same time this year. Doing so didn’t impact my comprehension or the number of books I read, but it did, I think, decrease some of the enjoyment. I’m going to try to reverse course this coming year. In any case, it was due to such parallel processing that in one single week, this past one, I finished reading not only Herman Melville’s Moby Dick, but also Cormac McCarthy’s Blood Meridian (which is set at roughly the same time as Moby Dick, but takes place on land), and Laurie Colwin’s Goodbye Without Leaving, as well as most of Ian McEwan’s What We Can Know, which I imagine I’ll finish in the coming week, work allowing.