Chrome Daydream
Chrome stars, jelly hearts and holographic colour. A nod to the glossy, optimistic graphics of the early web.
The notebook changes its cover every month. Each one takes its cues from a different corner of music, paper and internet culture. Explore the collection below.
Haunted Notebook is here through November 1. Coffee Shop Confessional takes over November 2.
Chrome stars, jelly hearts and holographic colour. A nod to the glossy, optimistic graphics of the early web.
Cassette ribbons, red-pen hearts and pink paper. For anyone who ever put too much thought into a mixtape.
Vines wind around the speakers and flowers take over the margins. Spring gets the volume knob.
Pixel ghosts, cherries and electric blue meet the notebook doodles. A little arcade cabinet in the margins.
The pink splashes, coffee ring and black doodles that started it, with the volume turned up. The notebook's home colours.
Peel-and-stick chaos: skulls, butterflies, hearts and neon lightning. Think of the back of your favourite battered laptop.
Torn tickets, halftone fragments and bright scraps. A cover that borrows the rough edges of a wall full of gig flyers.
Black ink, torn paper and acid-yellow sparks. A love letter to photocopied zines and the flyers you kept after the show.
Stars, speakers, tape and every loud colour at once. Back-to-school stationery with absolutely no restraint.
Moths, little ghosts and crimson ink creep through the black flourishes. The notebook has a late-night alter ego.
Coffee rings, headphones and warm paper. A cover for the long walk home and the track you play again when you get there.
Moons, moths and constellations spill across midnight-blue ink. The margins drift into space; the music keeps going.
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Four thousand words about a meatball. The meatball is on page eleven. She’s holding her phone. The screen has physically extended into an absurdly long scroll that cascades down onto the table beside a plate with one lonely meatball in marinara sauce. Everyone knows this scroll. It starts with a childhood memory about a grandmother’s kitchen in Tuscany, detours through a paragraph about the author’s marriage, mentions the weather twice, and arrives at “combine meat and breadcrumbs” somewhere after you’ve lost the will to cook. The meatball does not know it is the hostage. It sits there in its sauce,...
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26 years ago today, Coldplay released “Trouble.” It still sucks. Chris Martin wrote this because he felt guilty about being a jerk to his bandmates. That’s the whole origin story. A man who fronts one of the biggest bands on earth sat at a piano, played four pretty chords, and sang “a spider web is tangled up with me” like he’d just invented metaphor. The rest of us would just apologize and move on. The piano riff is catchy for about twelve seconds. Then the song does absolutely nothing with it. It just sits there, gently trembling, like a golden...
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Q3 was his best quarter. Yours was the surgery he denied. Grinning executive in a navy suit, surfing a stack of papers stamped DENIED down a hospital corridor. His stance is perfect. He’s having the time of his life. Behind him a nurse watches from a doorway with the expression of someone who has seen this exact guy walk past the ICU without making eye contact. The papers under his feet are insurance claims. Every one of them used to be a person asking for help. Now they’re a wave and he’s riding it. The American healthcare system, condensed: someone...
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