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I repeat this as a mantra while on the 51 train to my 9-to-5. Frosty af, but at least my shoes are cozy. I take this train like, 4 days a week, and they STILL haven’t fixed the escalator after 3 months. I’m hoping AI takes THAT job, not mine. Mind your steps, fr.

It’s the year 2025 and public transport is like a movie theater, just everyone has their own screen. I like to think about the internet not in terms of information, but in terms of affect. I like to think that all of these people are doing something good and nice, and that they are feeling happy. Chill times and safe travels y’know. But, like, I know that’s cap. I know when I open my phone, I’ll see war crimes in 4k and Trump’s or Netanyahu’s ugly face. Nevertheless, I wonder what’s on all the other little screens and what little songs are those people listening to. At this very moment I am in an unwritten competition with them, to not take my phone out of my pocket. I want to feel different, and I want to justify my inner judgement by being different, seeming different.

I want to be more real, and in the real world.

I see, like, 20 apples and none to grab; your world in your pocket, your world in your hands. We ain’t just looking at 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲, we ARE in it, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓈… we all have our own 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬, and rn I’m not doing anything, just observing and judging. Judging from afar, giving myself the green light. And people say 𝕺𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝕲𝖔𝖉 𝕮𝖆𝖓 𝕵𝖚𝖉𝖌𝖊 𝕸𝖊, so in a way I’m playing GOD (ʘ‿ʘ)ノ✿, even though it’s not my intention*¸ „„.•~¹°”ˆ˜¨♡ I just can’t help myself•.„¸*. It makes me feel superior, like I know better and my feed is, like, smarter, just like  𝑀𝓎 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝒾𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 » and I know there’s no objective 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 and all that, RIP. Time and space exists within us. Time is a PRISON. BLA—BLA—BLA—BLA—I feel like I’m losing it. Nothing is true. Everything is permitted. Most times I’m good, but sometimes I’m imagining getting cooked, assaulted, or the whole train getting got. I lost, I took out my phone.

𝐇𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞.

What is it like to kill a woman? Go to YT, Google’s AI failed, and 200k+ ppl saw AI-generated cruel violence against women before they took it down. Misogyny’s wild. Phone and I’m instantly spinning out. Psychosis unlocked. Our future’s 20 pedo lizard overlords owning everything. Rent’s sky-rocketing, and our socials will be 12k war and hate crimes with the first comment “is this AI?” from a bot. Israeli students chanting “May your village burn”. Tribute dancing. Dying children. What I ate during the day as a Fatty. Famine. Trump Gaza. One year old baby was raped by UAE backed forces in Sudan. Diva it’s ok buy a €6 coffee. $45 milion Google-Israel deal. Justin Bieber Instagram awakening. Russian drones strike kindergartens. Homeland Security Gotta Catch ‘Em All. China’s new ghost logistics centers. Latte. Instagram manifesting matcha fields wide and long enough to supply everyone, it’s like willy wonka factory but MAKE IT ꗥ～ꗥ 𝐝𝐮𝐛𝐚𝐢 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐛𝐮 𝐛𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐩 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ꗥ～ꗥ Matcha fueled neoliberals. But it’s not hype anymore, bc hype actually makes things happen with belief. It’s not real now, but it COULD be. And when it is, it always was. I AM a leo and the lion is struggling. People say it’s so over, but I like to think that it’s always darkest before the dawn. We may live in the Digital Dark Age but The Enlightenment followed the Dark Ages and I’ve heard history likes repeating itself. But Enlightenment’s also cooked 𝓕𝓤𝓒𝓚   The things we encounter daily on spectacular media are almost always a proxy for some deeper realities we are not always participants of. And yet, now we have another layer to question, whether the things we encounter are participants, whether we are not engaging with nothingness. Psycho-Stretch-Ware. It’s so over but we will be SO BACK. And then we will realize we were never gone. The future is only bright because all of the screens are lit up. ———>

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐃𝐮𝐛𝐚𝐢⃝⃝ ⃝ ⃝ ⃝ ⃝ ⃝ ⃝ 𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭⃝⃝ ⃝ 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐒𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮⃝⃝ ⃝ 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨: A large coffee, please.

Consuming basicness is like, our generation’s olympics, fr. Under the fake sky, everything’s just iStock. Often things begin as a fake, inauthentic, artificial, but we get caught into our own game of appearances. That’s the BIGGEST 🄛. True tragedy. Creation is in the eye of the beholder, t=0. I feel like Schrödinger’s cat today. Neither dead or alive until you’ll see me so I post a story on ig, and ▄︻デᗷօօʍ══━一 🄡🄤🄜🄘🄝🄐🄣🄘🄞🄝 Am I gonna delete this or what? OMG, who SAW that? AAA, if my feed isn’t aesthetic? OMFG, whatever, IDGAF no one does. Try to see the 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥 thing. The actual 𝒜𝒸𝓉𝓊𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝒾𝑒𝓈. I feel on my skin the exorcism of a real as an infant melody of virtuality. We’re all detaching in our caves of hyper individuality and decadence. 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 has the same structure as ficition. Y2K survivalism<3

Got a notification from Vinted: user00827469 has just uploaded new items: bellissima borsa guess vintage anni 2000 y2k , Jogger pant juicy couture y2k black velours jogging noir m and more. I’m wearing Jogger pant juicy couture y2k black velours jogging noir m RN, they’re my favorite. I love that they’re so real I can literally touch them, they’re so 𝓈𝑜𝒻𝓉. 𝒥𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓂𝑒. 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 exists in the POV; we all have our own truths. In the eyes of the pedolizards I’m just a commodity, in yours I might be a 𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒾𝒸 𝓅𝒾𝓍𝒾𝑒 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁 —･ but I am a 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥 person. It’s not clocking to you that I am a 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥 girl does it? I AM. I swam through the hell of endless discovery and out of humanity’s renaissance of waste I arrived at my omnipresence. Matcha fueled neoliberals and performance and/or ownership based identities. Your identity shapes your 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲, but it can also become a prison. Yass queen, welcome to your little “affordable” monarchy where everyone’s a queen and a king. We all get the queens and kings we deserve ᴠͥɪͣᴘͫ✮⃝ ⃟ᴠͥɪͣᴘͫ𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧♔

My anxiety is the last glimmer of 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 in a world devoted to hyper reality. I’m getting 𝒫𝒯𝒮𝒟 from my phone everyday and living in some Stockholm syndrome. I’m either gonna ditch the news or the pedolizards have to chill. They need my therapist; she could fix them, for real. Or IDK, that’s some engineered schizoanalysis type shit. Anyway… Don’t know what’s next. Peace or nuke? Ⓟⓛⓐⓨⓔⓡ Ⓞⓝⓔ ⓒⓗⓞⓢⓔ ⓥⓘⓞⓛⓔⓝⓒⓔ ⓣⓞⓓⓐⓨ⃝⃝ ⃝ ⓢⓞ ⓦⓔ ⓜⓤⓢⓣ ⓐⓛⓛ ⓢⓤⓕⓕⓔⓡ⃝ Depends how far you are, you may chose ignorance. But no matter what, the pain is always real. I’m sad, but at the same time I’m really happy that something could make me feel that sad. It’s like, it makes me feel alive, you know? It makes me feel human. And the only way I could feel this sad now is if I felt somethin’ really good before. I take the bad with the good, the good with the bad and I know for certain we live in a South Park episode. Long ass joke, long ass plot twist. Is woke dead? IDK anymore. Groypers out there – right-winged so hard they only date dudes and trans women. Built a whole ultra-fascist 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 online that doesn’t even read as fascism anymore. So satirical it’s all just memes. That’s a lot of lore byt ykwim. Original symbol’s gone. Total chaos. Total madness. Reality becomes even harder to define in the realm of technology. The 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥 pops from the impossibilities in the Symbolic, and since the Symbolic’s so f’d already, maybe we’re approaching something New Fresh and 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥. The 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥 resist symbolization and happens in silence. Look into yourself and you may find peace. Beautiful minds. Everything’s connected. We might be cooked now but the 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓉𝒽 is easier than we think. Trust me. Divine intuition. But for now… SCREW YOU GUYS, I’m going home. 𝐁ⓨ𝐄

 

 

“The youth of Morocco carries the message of a nation,” reads an open letter from the Gen Z 212 movement to King Mohammed VI of Morocco. “We call for the dissolution of the government for its failure to safeguard the constitutional rights of Moroccans.” The Gen Z 212 movement (after Morocco’s national dialing code, +212) was founded in early September by a group of young Moroccans opposed to the government; currently, it has gathered over two hundred thousand users on the messaging platform Discord, organizing sit-ins and online boycott campaigns.

A few days before the protests in Morocco, Nepalese youth set fire to the Parliament, shortly after the government of Ram Chandra Poudel banned twenty-six social media platforms – including WhatsApp, Facebook, Instagram, YouTube, and X. In a series of videos posted on TikTok, young Nepalese are dancing on the burning ruins of Kathmandu to the sound of the viral song Young Black & Rich by American rapper Melly Mike. “Viral trend done right,” reads the caption of one video, followed by the emoji of a hand with painted fingernails. “Making reels after setting Parliament on fire,” another one reads. In yet another video, the Nepalese finance minister is assaulted by a protester. Similarly, a video montage by Gen Z 212 shows the clashes between Moroccan protesters and the police, set to Kendrick Lamar’s HUMBLE as the soundtrack. The revolution is about to be televised; you picked the right time, but the wrong generation.

What do the youth protests in Morocco from last September have in common with the revolts in Asia, which began in Indonesia in February, followed by Mongolia and, later, Nepal?

After the revolution in Nepal, preceded by years of protests across Asia, in Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, Indonesia, and Mongolia, the Gen Z uprising turned into a global movement. Since Nepal, the uprising of the new generation has now spread to the Philippines, the Maldives, Timor-Leste, Madagascar, and Morocco, all the way up to the Peruvian Andes.

In Peru, Gen Z protests have focused on political corruption and organized crime. Promoted on social media such as TikTok, Instagram, and X, they led to the dismissal of President Dina Boluarte. A little earlier, in Indonesia, the protestors forced the government to rescind a controversial law about digital censorship. In Nepal, the government was dissolved and a new one was proposed after a public vote on Discord. In Madagascar, the head of state Andry Rajoelina was derided on social media after he suggested appointing the new ministers on LinkedIn…

From the Himalayas to the Andes, the latest Gen Z protests in Asia, Africa, and South America share a common language of oppression. The One Piece flag, featuring a skull with a straw hat, has become the symbol of the latest generation’s revolution against government corruption. One Piece, a famous Japanese manga and anime, recently adapted into a Netflix live-action series, tells the story of a group of pirates who fight the injustices of power. As a Filipino protester recently stated in an interview with The Guardian, “Even though we have different languages and cultures, we speak the same language of oppression. We see the flag as a symbol of liberation against oppression.” In Nepal, the One Piece flag was hung at the gates of the government’s main building. The banner was also waved at protests in countries such as the Philippines, Indonesia, Madagascar, and Morocco. In the past, the black flag with the skull and straw hat appeared at marches in solidarity with Palestine and, recently, was even hoisted on the Global Sumud Flotilla on its way to the Gaza Strip.

It is neither the first nor the last time that popular culture has entered the streets. In the anti-extradition demonstrations in Hong Kong, the meme of Pepe the Frog was repurposed as a symbol of freedom and democracy; in Myanmar, the three-fingered greeting inspired by The Hunger Games was used as a sign of protest; elsewhere, Guy Fawkes’ masks from V for Vendetta or clown makeups from Joker have appeared. Even more recently, in Turkey, the image of a protester dressed in a Pikachu costume running from police during the demonstrations has become a viral symbol of resistance. These are not merely political but also aesthetic revolutions. The last generation is giving rise to a new language of protest. Its grammar is very simple: memes and flames.

The aesthetics of the Gen Z uprising have a common feature: they are viral. Within hours, a student in Morocco is watching and sharing a video posted in Nepal with the hashtag #GenZRevolution. A few days earlier, the same thing had happened eight thousand kilometers away, in Peru. If movements like Occupy Wall Street in 2011, the Arab Spring in 2010–2012, or the Umbrella Movement in Hong Kong in 2014 had a regional character, the protests of Gen Z extend from the Himalayas to the Andes. The revolution is no longer local but global. The internet is no longer just a means of communication: it has become a weapon of planetary dissent.

Generation Z is the first generation thrown into the digital world, no longer the analogue one of the past. Yet, the aesthetics of the revolt – albeit its virulence and immediacy – cannot disrupt the medium that reproduces it. From the video montage of the Gen Z 212 group to the viral videos of Nepalese youth, the revolution is digitized without destabilizing the power of the platforms. Unsurprisingly, the relationship between digital technology and power has been at the forefront of several protests by young people in Asia, Africa, and America: against cyber surveillance in Indonesia, against online censorship in the Philippines, against the ban on social media in Nepal, and, lastly, against the lack of internet access in various countries, including Morocco. Technology, of course, is only a small part of the broader issues underpinning the protests, such as unemployment, corruption, and economic and social inequality.

However, as sociologist Zeynep Tufekci noted in her 2017 book Twitter and Tear Gas, the contradiction is that these movements write history with tools that are not their own. Even those who make history must still accept the platform’s terms and conditions. In this regard, it is enough to take a look at Meta’s role (Facebook and Instagram, especially) in the censorship of digital activism in solidarity with Palestine – through the removal of posts, the suspension of accounts, shadow banning, and so on.

And yet, it is only through the use of digital communication that the revolution has spread from the Himalayas to the Andes and will continue to do so, exporting the protest from online to offline. To quote a track by Kendrick Lamar, “Do you really know how to play the game? Then tighten up!”

Special thanks to @girlaccelerated for the early input for this article.

***

This article was originally published in the Italian magazine Machina.

Alessandro Sbordoni (Cagliari, 1995) is the author of  the INC Network Notion Semiotics of the End: On Capitalism and the Apocalypse (2023) and The Shadow of Being: Symbolic / Diabolic (Miskatonic Virtual University Press, 2023). He is an Editor of the British magazine Blue Labyrinths and the Italian magazine Charta Sporca. He works for the Open Access publisher Frontiers.

Minor Compositions Podcast Episode 40 Utopia in the Factory? Discussion with Rhiannon Firth & John Preston on their new book Utopia in the Factory. Prefigurative Knowledge Against Cybernetics There’s long been this seductive idea that automation, AI, and robotics might finally deliver us into a kind of post-work utopia. You can find it everywhere, from […]

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I remember long car rides as a kid in the early 2000s, headphones on, gazing out the window at the passing scenery while looping background music from The Legend of Zelda and Pokémon games on my Game Boy. After school, I’d occasionally throw the Super Smash Bros. Melee soundtrack on my Discman CD player, keeping me motivated while doing homework. Like many others, I found Nintendo’s music to be an effective accompaniment to everyday activities, a kind of functional listening long before streaming platforms like Spotify and YouTube made it trendy. Which raises the question: how has Nintendo adapted to the streaming age?

Unlike many other game publishers, Nintendo has conspicuously kept its music off streaming services—despite having some of the most recognizable soundtracks in video game history, such as Super Mario Bros., Donkey Kong, and Metroid. Instead, the company took a different direction by unveiling its own music streaming service in October 2024, aptly titled Nintendo Music. The platform, available to Nintendo Switch Online subscribers, showcases soundtracks spanning the company’s history, from 1980s NES titles to recent Nintendo Switch 2 releases.

In a listening landscape dominated by Spotify, Apple Music, and YouTube Music, Nintendo’s decision to launch its own proprietary streaming service makes it unique among video game companies. This move is idiosyncratic in a way that feels characteristically Nintendo, but it is also a bold bid to compete in the broader attention economy. By situating itself alongside, rather than within, the major music streaming services, Nintendo signals that its soundtracks are valuable cultural content worth curating and controlling directly.

Nintendo Music caters specifically to video game fans by including screenshots with each track, having a “Spoiler” filter that lets users block music from games they haven’t played, and making personalized recommendations based on each user’s play history. But perhaps most notable is its emphasis on background listening: through features like mood playlists and an “Extend” tool, video game music is explicitly framed as a companion for contexts like relaxing, working out, or doing household chores.

By repurposing game soundtracks as tools for everyday routines, Nintendo Music capitalizes on nostalgia and contemporary listening habits to deepen fan engagement and retain control over its brand—a strategic move from a company that is famously (over)protective of its intellectual property. More generally, it also reflects neoliberal logics in which music is woven into daily life to regulate mood and productivity, revealing the increasing reach of digital platforms over how we work, listen, and live.

Listening in Loops: Video Game Music in the Background

In advertisements for Nintendo Music, actors hum and sing along to famous video game tunes while carrying out their daily activities. “Whether you’re grocery shopping, straightening up at home, or getting some studying done, Nintendo Music can be the background sound to your everyday life,” the description to one video reads.

This marketing is strikingly similar to strategies by streaming services such as Spotify, which encourage listening to music in any and every context. Playlists based around specific moods or activities—like Spotify’s “Gym Hits,” “Intense Studying,” and “sad girl starter pack”—use music as a tool to manage listeners’ energy levels, focus, and emotions as they go about their lives. Anahid Kassabian’s concept of “ubiquitous listening” helps describe this phenomenon, showing how even passive, background engagement can shape listeners’ affects and experiences.

In many ways, video game music is ideal for the ubiquitous listening that streaming services promote. Game soundtracks are generally (though not always) designed for the background and are usually instrumental, setting the emotional tone of on-screen action, from serene soundscapes to intense boss battles. Unlike other multimedia soundtracks, such as film scores, much video game music is also composed to loop indefinitely, making it especially effective for sustained listening.

As Michiel Kamp demonstrates in Four Ways of Hearing Video Game Music, “background listening” is one of the main ways users experience video game soundtracks. He writes that “background music both in games and elsewhere requires us to be so attuned to it that it offers no experiential friction in need of interpreting, and through this it has the capacity to attune us to our environment, be it a mythical underworld full of dangers or a convenience store full of groceries” (2024, 175).

While Kamp primarily focuses on background listening while playing games, game music can attune listeners to moods, activities, or environments even when heard outside of gameplay. In fact, video games train us to listen in this way, using music to establish the appropriate affect for narrative events, settings, and characters. These immersive qualities have made video game music immensely popular on streaming services: soundtracks from games and franchises like Halo, Final Fantasy, The Elder Scrolls, Undertale, and Minecraft have collectively garnered over a billion streams on Spotify alone.

But Nintendo, by launching its own proprietary platform, trades streaming royalties and wider exposure for something arguably more valuable: the ability to control how and where fans experience its content.

Features in Focus: Nintendo Music’s Approach to Passive Listening

Nintendo Music’s features illustrate how the service adapts soundtracks for continuous, everyday listening. Perhaps most notable is the service’s unique Extend feature, which allows users to stretch the runtime of tracks up to 60 minutes. Described in the app as “the perfect accompaniment to studying or working,” this feature facilitates seamless background listening without the distraction of frequent track changes. So if you’ve ever wanted to loop the Wii Shop music for a full hour—and let’s be honest, who hasn’t—now you can.

Alongside complete soundtracks, Nintendo Music also foregrounds curated playlists, including those based around specific video game characters, themes, and moods. The “Powering Up” playlist features “up-tempo tracks to fill you with energy,” for example, while “Good Night” has “down-tempo tracks to help you drift into dreamland.” Screenshots for each track further immerse listeners, visually reinforcing the moods and environments the music is designed to evoke. On these playlists, Nintendo’s music is presented less as individual compositions and more as “vibes.”

Packaging music around moods or vibes is not a neutral act. In Mood Machine: The Rise of Spotify and the Costs of the Perfect Playlist, Liz Pelly asserts that “organizing music by mood is a way to transform it into a new type of media product. It is about selling users not just on moods, but on the promise of the very concept that mood stabilization is something within their control. It’s a tactic for luring users to double click and start streaming” (2025, 40). Pelly’s observation underscores that mood-based playlists do more than entertain: they are a way for platforms to influence how listeners organize their time and attention.

Furthermore, Nintendo Music’s approach positions music not only as a creative or cultural artifact, but also as a commodified resource for self-regulation. This aligns with Eric Drott’s claim that streaming services often employ music as a “technology of social reproduction,” used to structure and maintain day-to-day existence. For Drott, this is “part of a broader tendency under neoliberal capitalism that prizes music, the arts, and culture not on account of their aesthetic worth but on account of their ‘expediency’ for other social, political, and economic ends” (2024, 197).

Many users still actively listen to their favourite Nintendo soundtracks on the platform, and there’s also nothing inherently wrong with background listening—it’s how much of this music was originally designed to be heard. However, presenting music as an aid to concentration, productivity, or mood regulation also risks repurposing soundtracks as a form of “neo-Muzak,” a vehicle for continuous consumption designed to keep listeners plugged into Nintendo’s broader product ecosystem.

Background Benefits: Nintendo’s Platform Power

Beyond guiding listening habits, Nintendo Music reinforces the company’s brand image of nostalgia, innovation, and family-friendly fun while increasing engagement with its intellectual property on its own terms. As a Nintendo spokesperson said in an interview with Nippon TV News, “To increase the number of people who have access to Nintendo IP, we believe that game music is an important and valuable form of content. Nintendo Music is a service that allows us to deliver this game music in a way that is uniquely Nintendo. . . . We hope that Nintendo Music will help you recall some of your favorite gaming experiences and think that it will also encourage people to play the games again” (translation by Nicholas Anderson).

Nintendo’s efforts to centralize its music are also likely, at least in part, a response to fans unofficially circulating soundtracks online. As part of a broader trend of functional music compilations (think lofi beats to study/relax to), YouTube hosts countless user-generated Nintendo music playlists designed for activities such as studying and sleeping. Despite Nintendo’s notoriety for issuing takedown notices over copyright infringement—including shutting down the massively popular YouTube video game music channel GilvaSunner in 2022—many of these unofficial videos and reuploads continue to accrue millions of views.

By providing an official home for soundtracks and its own contextual playlists, Nintendo Music is a subtle exercise in platform power, gating access to subscribers. It redirects listeners from other platforms, letting Nintendo control its content without diluting its brand on third-party services. Although Nintendo Music’s catalogue is currently slim—as of writing it has roughly 100 soundtracks—the company continues to trickle out new music most weeks, incentivizing listeners to keep coming back.

Nintendo Music promotes ongoing background listening not only to attract users who are already accustomed to mood and activity playlists, then, but also to keep them on the platform and connected to the company’s games and services. After all, every minute a listener spends on Nintendo Music looping David Wise’s “Aquatic Ambiance” from Donkey Kong Country is a minute they aren’t spending on YouTube, Spotify, or any other entertainment platform.

* * *

Video game music is, in many respects, perfectly suited for the streaming age. From the popularity of playlists to the ascent in ambient music, streaming services’ focus on passive listening aligns with the background function of video game soundtracks. As we’ve seen, Nintendo Music takes full advantage of this, using its marketing and features to bolster branding, solidify control over IP, and encourage engagement.

For many, Nintendo Music offers an enjoyable experience and a convenient way to stream nostalgic soundtracks. But the service also exposes how proprietary platforms concentrate power and leverage passive listening for ongoing consumption, reinforcing broader patterns where work and leisure become intertwined with corporate interests. By prompting users to integrate Nintendo’s music into their activities, the platform extends the reach of its games beyond the screen and into daily life.

Whether you’re listening to famed composer Koji Kondo or everyone’s favourite troubadour dog K.K. Slider, Nintendo’s message is clear: press play and lean back.

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Featured Image: “Mario Kart” by MIKI Yoshihito (#mikiyoshihito), CC BY 2.0

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Ryan Blakeley is Visiting Assistant Professor at Northeastern University and holds a PhD in Musicology from the Eastman School of Music. His research investigates how digital platforms like music streaming services are shaping creative practices, listening habits, and music industry power dynamics.

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REWIND!…If you liked this post, you may also dig:

Video Gaming and the Sonic Feedback of Surveillance: Bastion and the Stanley Parable–Aaron Trammell

Playing with the Past in the Imagined Middle Ages: Music and Soundscape in Video Games–James Cook

Beyond the Grave: The “Dies Irae” in Video Game Music–Karen Cook 

Sounding Out! Podcast #29: Game Audio Notes I: Growing Sounds for Sim Cell–Leonard J. Paul

Papa Sangre and the Construction of Immersion in Audio Games— Enongo Lumumba-Kasongo

Тетяна Ваграменко, University College Cork

Не буде перебільшенням сказати, що в останні кілька років ця книга стала моїм головним дороговказом – тим, що відкрило мені двері у зовсім нову сферу діяльності. У рік, коли розпочалася повномасштабна війна, я працювала над дослідницьким проєктом про історію релігійних спільнот в Україні та пам’ять про радянські репресії серед релігійних меншин.1 Та коли почалися бомбардування і руйнування по всій країні, я зрозуміла: мій проєкт більше не може залишатися суто академічним. Настав час, коли потрібно було не лише досліджувати минуле, а й рятувати те, що від нього залишилося.

Під час польових досліджень улітку 2022 року, коли світ розпадався на наших очах, до мене звернувся представник однієї релігійної громади. Він показав мені своє найбільше надбання – архів, який збирав усе своє життя. Архів, що був його життям, історією його церкви, її пам’яттю. Його доля була непростою: після окупації Криму у 2014 році архів таємно вивезли звідти, а згодом, під час окупації Бучі, будівлю, де він зберігався, було зламано російськими солдатами – частину матеріалів пошкоджено, багато знищено.2

Тоді він попросив допомоги – допомогти врятувати архів. І це прохання змінило моє життя. Я почала шукати міжнародні програми, які могли б підтримати таку ініціативу. Саме тоді я дізналася про British Library Endangered Archives Programme і вперше відкрила книгу «Польові зйомки». Ця книга стала для мене не просто технічним посібником. Вона стала провідником у новий світ – світ практичного порятунку культурної спадщини, де знання поєднуються з відповідальністю, а дослідницька робота перетворюється на акт турботи і солідарності. Не випадково «Польові зйомки» вже має світове визнання: англомовну версію книги завантажили понад 18 000 разів і прочитали онлайн майже 14 000 разів.

З її допомогою я змогла підготувати свій перший проєкт у межах Програми EAP “Religious minorities archives and the war in Ukraine: The Adventist Historical Archive-Museum in Bucha”,3 а згодом, наступний проєкт у рамках UCLA Modern Endangered Archives Program.

Тому поява українського перекладу цієї книги має особливе значення. Адже тепер цей безцінний досвід стане доступним для українських дослідників, архівістів і музейників – усіх, хто, попри війну, намагається зберегти те, що може зникнути назавжди.

«Польові зйомки» – це не просто технічний довідник. Це книга про те, як зберігати життя в умовах втрати. Вона веде читача через усі етапи роботи: від планування і вибору обладнання до створення безпечних копій і завершення проєкту. Вона вчить не лише оцифровувати, а й мислити стратегічно, співпрацювати з місцевими громадами, долати обмеження, шукати рішення у складних обставинах.

І, можливо, найважливіше – ця книга наповнена голосами тих, хто вже проходив цей шлях: архівістів із Латинської Америки, Африки, Азії. Тепер до них приєднуються й українські історії – історії архівів, що вижили попри війну. Коли я відкриваю сторінки «Польових зйомок», я бачу не лише інструкції, а цілу спільноту людей, об’єднаних спільною метою – зберегти пам’ять там, де все інше руйнується.

1. History Declassified: The KGB and the Religious Underground in Soviet Ukraine https://www.ucc.ie/en/history-declassified/
2. Більше про цю історію, долю цього архіву та проєкт див. у Vagramenko, T. (2025). When does the “Soviet” end? Archival activism and collaborative anthropology in wartime Ukraine. Canadian Slavonic Papers, 67 (1–2), 194–213; Vagramenko, T. (2023). “Faith and war: Grassroots Ukrainian Protestantism in the context of the Russian invasion”. In Dispossession: Anthropological Perspectives on Russia’s War Against Ukraine. Ed. by Catherine Wanner. Routledge, pp. 121-139.
3. https://eap.bl.uk/project/EAP1511

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by Tatiana Vagramenko, University College Cork

It would not be an exaggeration to say that in recent years, this book has become my main guide – the one that opened the door to a completely new field of work. When the full-scale war in Ukraine began, I was working on a research project about the history of religious communities in Ukraine and the enduring legacy of Soviet-era repression and violence. But as bombings and destruction swept across the country, I realized my project could no longer remain purely academic. The moment had come not just to study the past, but to save what remained of it.

During fieldwork in the summer of 2022, when the world seemed to be falling apart before our eyes, a representative of a religious community came to me and quietly asked for help. He showed me his greatest treasure – an archive he had spent a lifetime collecting. It held his story, the history of his church, its memory.

The archive had already survived a perilous journey. After Russia’s occupation of Crimea in 2014, it had been secretly smuggled out of the peninsula and brought to Bucha. Eight years later, during the occupation of Bucha in February–March 2022, it faced the threat of destruction once again. Russian soldiers seized the building where it was kept, leaving the archive damaged and scattered. This tangible history of a minority religious community – already smuggled and rescued – was imperiled once more with the full-scale escalation of the war.1

He asked me to help save it – and that request changed my life. I felt helpless at first, realizing that cataloguing and digitizing the entire collection alone would take a lifetime. Yet I promised to try.

Once home, I began searching for programs that could support such an effort. That’s when I discovered the British Library’s Endangered Archives Programme, and later UCLA’s Modern Endangered Archives Program. To apply for a grant for the Bucha archive, I had to start from scratch, learning digitization techniques and both short- and long-term preservation strategies for archives in conflict zones.

It was then that I opened Remote Capture for the first time. The book became more than a technical manual – it was a gateway into a new world: the practical rescue of cultural heritage, where knowledge meets responsibility, and research becomes an act of care and solidarity. It is no surprise that Remote Capture has already gained global recognition: the English edition has been downloaded over 18,000 times and read online nearly 14,000 times.

With its guidance, I prepared my first project within the British Library EAP Programme, Religious Minorities Archives and the War in Ukraine: The Adventist Historical Archive-Museum in Bucha,2 and later my next project through UCLA’s Modern Endangered Archives Program Protecting a Vulnerable Past: Preserving Local Archives in Bucha, Ukraine.3

Remote Capture is not just a technical handbook. It is a book about preserving memory and history amid loss. It walks the reader through every stage of the work—from planning the project and choosing equipment to working on the ground, creating secure copies, cataloguing, and completing a project. It teaches not only how to digitize, but how to think strategically, collaborate with local communities, overcome limitations, and find solutions in challenging circumstances.

That is why the Ukrainian translation of this book is so meaningful. It brings this invaluable knowledge to Ukrainian researchers, archivists, and museum professionals – everyone striving, despite the war, to safeguard what might otherwise disappear forever. Preserving endangered archives is more than a technical task; it is a form of community activism, empowering people to reclaim their narratives and histories.

Perhaps most importantly, the book is filled with the voices of those who have already walked this path – archivists from Latin America, Africa, and Asia. Now, Ukrainian stories are joining theirs – the stories of archives that survived despite the war. When I open the pages of Remote Culture, I see more than instructions; I see an entire community united by a single purpose: preserving memory where everything else is being destroyed.

1. For more on this story, see Vagramenko, T. (2025). When does the “Soviet” end? Archival activism and collaborative anthropology in wartime Ukraine. Canadian Slavonic Papers, 67 (1–2), 194–213; Vagramenko, T. (2023). “Faith and war: Grassroots Ukrainian Protestantism in the context of the Russian invasion”. In Dispossession: Anthropological Perspectives on Russia’s War Against Ukraine. Ed. by Catherine Wanner. Routledge, pp. 121-139.
2. https://eap.bl.uk/project/EAP1511
3. https://meap.library.ucla.edu/about/news/meap-funds-cohort6/

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'Remote Capture: Digitising Documentary Heritage in Challenging Locations' by Patrick Sutherland, Adam Farquhar, Jody Butterworth & Andrew Pearson is an Open Access title available to read and download for free or to purchase in all available print and ebook formats at the link below.

'Польові зйомки: Оцифрування документальної спадщини у складних умовах' by Джоді Баттерворт, Ендрю Пірсон, Патрік Сазерленд & Адам Фаркухар is an Open Access title available to read and download for free or to purchase in all available print and ebook formats at the link below.

Remote Capture: Digitising Documentary Heritage in Challenging Locations

This is a must-read how-to guide if you are planning to embark on a scholarly digitisation project. Tailored to the specifications of the British Library’s EAP (Endangered Archives Programme) projects, it is full of sound, practical advice about planning and carrying out a successful digitisation pr…

Open Book Publishers

Польові зйомки: Оцифрування документальної спадщини у складних умовах

Цей посібник обов’язково треба прочитати, якщо ви плануєте розпочати науковий проект з оцифрування. Посібник відповідає специфікаціям проєктів EAP (Програма збереження архівів, що перебувають під загрозою зникнення) Британської бібліотеки, він наповнений хорошими практичними рекомендаціями щодо план…

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By Jan E. Grabowski, Lancaster University

Mathematics is a subject with many long-standing traditions. Partly, this stems from the way mathematicians work: once we have a correct proof of a statement, it stays correct in perpetuity. This tendency applies to how we do things, as much as to what we do. So it will be a bit of a surprise to some colleagues to see an Open Access undergraduate mathematics textbook, available in both print and digital formats, using cutting-edge tools to produce accessible formats and integrating the use of open-source mathematical software.

Perhaps having all of these in one package is unusual, but each individually reflects changes in both how academics write and teach, and also the publishing landscape.  Immense computing power is now available to everyone via simple web-based interfaces, as opposed to needing expensive infrastructure and advanced programming skills, so computer-assisted mathematics is turning rapidly from a somewhat niche pastime to something that all our students will engage with.  There is still a place for specialist software with verified code and verifiable outputs, alongside the latest developments in AI.

We also now recognize how individuals and communities have been shut out from accessing the subject we love and want to share, when the technology we use to publish is inaccessible. No one format suits all readers, so it is important to offer a variety that people can combine with their assistive technologies if they need. It is incumbent on us as authors to try to reduce or remove as many barriers as we can.  This includes recognizing that not everyone has a university library on their doorstep – but the internet can bring these places closer.

Then there is the matter of cost. Especially now, seeing the pressures on students’ finances and as we work hard to try to help those who find it difficult to access higher education, we cannot be giving with one hand and taking with the other. By publishing Open Access, we can help level the playing field, not just in our own classrooms but – it is no exaggeration to say – across the world.

All of these are things mathematicians can get on board with, and working with like-minded libraries, universities and publishers, we can begin to change how things have always been done into how we think they should be done, one book at a time.

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'Representation Theory: A Categorical Approach' by Jan E. Grabowski is an Open Access title available to read and download for free or to purchase in all available print and ebook formats at the link below.

Representation Theory: A Categorical Approach

This volume offers a fresh and modern introduction to one of abstract algebra’s key topics. Guiding readers through the transition between structure theory and representation theory, this textbook explores how algebraic objects like groups and rings act as symmetries of other structures. Using the a…

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Today is World College Radio Day, and it’s more important than ever to honor and preserve free airwaves for our communities, now and for the generations to come. Sounding Out! is marking the day with a special post devoted to the intergenerational relationships that power college radio and keep it lit, whether over the terrestrial airwaves or via online streaming. College radio binds campus and community in tangible ways and builds deep and long lasting connections, as Sean Broder’s (WHRW 90.5 Class of 2025) conversation with Freddie Montalvo (WHRW 90.5 Class of 1987) certainly shows. Tune in to the people and keep it locked on college radio. –SO! Eds

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In 2026, Binghamton University’s WHRW 90.5FM will celebrate its 60th birthday. Ferdinand “Freddie” Montalvo has been an prominent member of the station for 45 of those years, which means he has experienced many changes in radio’s culture and technology. Supplemented by his experience as a professional electrician, Freddie’s enthusiasm for a traditional approach to broadcasting has remained unchanged through the station’s many alterations, bringing undeniable authenticity to the forefront of the station, and showing newcomers how they can do the same.

An expressive medium, college radio has enabled students of all backgrounds to project their voice and music taste as far as the radio waves take them. Whereas some former college radio DJs apply their newfound power of expression to other professional fields, others like Freddie have only continued to develop their broadcasting style, which is why I wanted to get his perspective on college radio’s evolutions. Freddie has never lost sight of the art and the value of individualized broadcasting in the age of streaming music, and he generously shares it with incoming members who seek their own voices.

I met Freddie for this interview in the station’s current location in the basement of the university union. WHRW has three studios, one of the largest record libraries in the northeastern United States, and a common space that’s layered in stickers, posters, and graffiti spanning several generations of broadcasters. I found him in WHRW’s primary studio, CR-1, serving as the required broadcaster for a student talk show. As this was the end of the Spring ‘25 semester at BU, I was able to briefly catch the thank yous and goodbyes of the hosts at the conclusion of their final show. Freddie continues to host his own weekly radio show–Dimenciones on Saturdays from 7-10 PM on terrestrial radio 90.5 in the Greater Binghamton area and via WHRW’s livestream–but his additional involvement as an engineer for others at the station continues to enable newcomers to develop and project their own voices, even if they’re not certified broadcasters themselves. This post offers some excerpts of our in-depth conversation concerning Freddie’s life and rich history with WHRW, as well as his perspective on the continued importance of college radio, and of course some of the many valuable music recommendations he shared over our two hours together.

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Freddie’s journey into the world of FM radio began in 1976, when the South Bronx native transferred from Bronx Community College to Binghamton University. It wasn’t until ‘79 that he would be introduced to the station by a friend of his who was hosting a Latin music show on the campus station WHRW 90.5, which had Freddie instantly hooked. Coming from a Puerto Rican family, it meant a lot to Freddie to join his friend in the station’s Latin Department; he became the first Latino program director in 1981 and the first Latino general manager in 1982. While serving leadership roles and maintaining his weekly programming, Freddie attended Binghamton through the work-study program BOCES (Boards of Cooperative Educational Services). It’s here that he trained to become an electrician, further intertwining his personal connection to WHRW:

BOCES… they taught you the fundamentals and at that time, I was getting involved at the station, and it was like a synergy of that, you know? Between electronics and radio broadcasting. So, at that time I was going to school in the evening, I went to the BOCES program 8-4/8-5, went to school at night, was doing radio, so everything was involved and influencing each other.

As a leading member of his department, Freddie embraced the alternative radio that WHRW was known for, broadcasting an assortment of music ranging from Latin Jazz to Cumbia, Disco, Salsa, and Santana… not to mention his confirmed favorite song: “Sofrito” by Mongo Santamaria.

In the decades following his transfer to BU, he has established a home and marriage in Binghamton, describing his life’s journey in the city as “a long, strange trip.” 

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WHRW has been a free format station since it began in 1966, giving each DJ and engineer freedom to play their favorite pieces of music within the FCC guidelines. WHRW has always been, according to Freddie, about “protecting that alternativeness on campus and off campus… we weren’t copying anybody.” He brings attention to what he calls the “great social redeeming value” of alternative broadcasting, which surpasses the confines of the station and not only enriches the surrounding community, but influences future forms of expression by DJs, or “broadcasters” as Freddie calls them. 

When you record your shows and listen to yourself that’s how you develop your sense of style… The voice is an instrument, and you learn to modulate when you turn that mic on, always make sure you have on your headset, and that’s how you develop your style. ‘Cause at first you don’t realize these things, but as you evolve, you’ll notice these different nuances.

As his career progressed and Freddie became an installer technician, he increased accessibility to new musical programs for local residents, most notably, MTV. Combining this work with his many hours at the station, Freddie felt a great sense of pride and responsibility in bringing the forefront of new music to the lives of countless listeners. “I always called it therapeutic radio,” he explained to me, bringing attention to WHRW’s commercial-free programming, and the station’s ability to allow for its broadcasters to express their personalities. Freddie has never felt the need to possess an alter-ego while broadcasting as many do, explaining that members of the station are “audiophiles experiencing music, certain different genres, and that’s what we’re presenting. And when you do a show, you’re that show. That is your artwork in action.”

In addition to producing unique art on air, each WHRW broadcaster makes and plays hourly “carts,” public service announcements that are the closest thing to commercials on 90.5. There too, the station’s members have managed to transform the regulation-required station identifiers, PSAs, promos, and announcements into pre-recorded miniature productions; each about a minute long. During Freddie’s earlier years at the station, engineers made carts on Ampex audio track tape machines, quite different from the digital editing software utilized today. While traditional, bulky tape machines offered creative possibilities, they were be far less forgiving of errors than modern audio editing software. As Freddie told me,

there’s a certain thing that you can do with reel-to-reel recorders, where you could do sound-on-sound and sound-with-sound, and what that does is it creates an echo effect that is different from the electronic echos that you can do with the software… The mixing and the editing was hardcore, it was physical.

One of Freddie’s favorite promotional carts was “La Emisora Que Vuela,” made several years ago on the Ampex by a DJ apprentice of his, Francisco Reyes. Freddie remembered that it took eight full hours of recording, splicing, and layering for the minute-long audio production. Rightfully so, he refers to both the production process and final recording as true art, going on to describe the context of the dialogue:

So it’s like a gathering in a Latin household talking about different foods. And… It’s like a sitcom in a sense because he’s goofing with the different characters and he’s talking about, you know, the foods to be prepared. You say, well, who is this guy? That’s when he starts talking and saying: ‘you’ve got to be listening to WHRW in Binghamton.

“La Emisora Que Vuela” (“The Station That Flies”) -Francisco Reyes

The Ampex isn’t the only thing that has changed during Freddie’s 45+ years at WHRW. Other significant changes to the technologies utilized for broadcasting over the years. Because the station has always operated 24 hours a day, it required a certified broadcaster to remain on air at any given time for many decades. More recently, an automated system has allowed for some time slots to be occupied by a digital playlist, inevitably creating a distinct gap between WHRW’s night owls and early risers. Additionally, physical media such as vinyl records and CDs are no longer necessary for radio shows on WHRW. After the implementation of a Eurorack–which allows DJs to use an aux chord to play their shows–most current station members went digital. Despite this change and preference, Freddie remains loyal to the art of digging through physical media, for him primarily CDs, in order to find music that portrays his personality and taste. 

Not too many people have FM radios at home, which was the norm. Everybody had records, they were listening to FM radio, and the only way you could listen to the station was tuning in with an FM radio. Today, everybody’s into Spotify… they’re not pulling records, they’re not pulling CDs, there’s no more really hands-on, it’s all plug in a laptop and sitting back… But that’s just me because I came from a different era, you know, where we had the hands-on with vinyl… once they put that Eurorack in there, it’s not the same. That’s why we have to have turntable classes to teach people how to work with the vinyl cause most of the younger crowd didn’t grow up playing 45s or lps, you know?… That’s when you’re definitely an audio aficionado.

Despite the sonic and technological changes that have permanently altered radio broadcasting, Freddie urges people of all backgrounds to get involved with radio given the opportunity; especially on the rare occasion that the station is free-format like WHRW has been since its inception. Technological changes aside, WHRW harbors the unique and deeply personal environment that deems college radio so valuable. Today, more than ever it is vital to understand the importance of large-scale audial expression in the face of vastly different musical soundscapes, as explained by Freddie:

This (the station) is the focal point for social interaction relating to music but, you know, today it’s more Spotify based, which is not the greatest because with a CD or an LP, you’re able to read the line-in notes, you get to read about the musicians, the group, the transition of between groups. Just think about Led Zeppelin. Zeppelin, let’s say Led Zeppelin 1, 2, and 3: different LPs, different flavors in their musical repertoire, you know? And you’re reading the LP, and you’re reading about the musicians and all the songs and the line and all… I’m not sure if Spotify has the same thing today… it’s not interactive. With LP’s, you’re fully engaged with that LP as you’re listening to it, whereas with that it’s just, you know, a certain song, or if you go looking for a little bit of tidbit, but it’s not the same experience. With the LP you get to see, you get to feel the artwork… it has to be different from the laptop experience… it’s more tactile.

Today, everything is digitized, it’s not like we have our live broadcaster or radio DJ… it’s not visceral in that sense… radio is different today. ‘Corporate radio’, as they refer to it… There’s no personality in it, and if there is a personality, it’s more blahblahblahblahblah and very little with the music and all… Even today, I listen to some DJs that I was listening to then and they’re still around today, and there’s a difference between that time and today. But, their influence must have influenced me unknowingly, and so as I experienced radio here, it’s vastly different from what I thought about radio at that time.

The thing is, when you do radio here [at WHRW], it is different than if you weren’t doing radio just listening to your laptop or Spotify. When you’re doing radio, you are engaging actively and producing your own show… It will influence you too, you know, we always used to say here: ‘expand your horizons’ and not just stay in a certain genre. As you experience WHRW, you will be listening to certain things, or you should be listening to certain things, and exposed to certain things, and that’s what opens your whole view, you know, musically, orally. And so, what you were listening to two years ago might be vastly different from what you are listening to today. And, when you go back home and you listen to radio you say ‘man, I could do better than that shit!

WHRW is vital for those who have ever been involved in its community, expressed to its truest extent by Ferdinand Montalvo. Members define the atmosphere within the station and the growth of the station outside of it. Despite the many technological changes to broadcasting, college radio has continued to build a symbiotic relationship with its members and the local community of listeners.

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Featured Images: Courtesy of Ferdinand “Freddie” Montalvo

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Sean Broder is a recent graduate of Binghamton University in Binghamton, NY, where he was a trained DJ at WHRW 90.5 FM as well as an English Literature major. He was a Sounding Out! intern in Spring and Summer 2025. He’s from New Rochelle, New York and has always had a great love for music.

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REWIND! . . .If you liked this post, you may also dig:

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Listening (Loudly) to Spanish-language Radio–Dolores Inés Casillas

“Chicana Radio Activists and the Sounds of Chicana Feminisms“–Monica De La Torre

Radio and the Voice of the Aymara People – Karl Swinehart