Marcel Winatschek

Low Shoulder

There was this playlist once—every song that played on Skins. Chemical Brothers, Bloc Party, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Ludacris somehow. Toro y Moi was on there too, Low Shoulder, this track that existed for like five minutes on Pandora before it disappeared. That show ate years of my life, and the music was wired into all of it, the exact right sound for feeling like everything meant something.

Skins eventually collapsed into itself, but Chaz Bundick kept working. His music lives in this space between groovy 70s pop and indie production—dense and textured but easy, the kind of thing that feels made from inside someone’s head rather than for an audience. You can study it or let it wash over you. Both work.

Sometimes I think about how weird it is that artists you half-forgot years ago are still out there making work, still alive, still relevant. Most things don’t last like that.