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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Twenty-four years ago today, Coldplay released A Rush of Blood to the Head. It still sucks. This was Peak Coldplay, which is like being the tallest building in Winnipeg. You can see it from far away but nobody flew there on purpose. The album gave us “The Scientist” and “Clocks,” two songs that have been emotionally weaponized by every university orientation video and Grey’s Anatomy death montage since 2002. Chris Martin played piano like he was apologizing for something he hadn’t done yet, and twenty-four years later I still don’t know what it was. The whole record sounds like a...
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Eight men in body armour, one woman with a thermos and a folding chair. Guess who’s winning.
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Weekly. We hate Coldplay, not your inbox.
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