The Verge’s favorite music for work

Some people work at home with a speaker system that blasts their favorite background music. Some sit in an open office with a carefully curated playlist through their headphones. And some scrub the toilet while singing to the latest pop songs vibrating in their earbuds.

While some people prefer to work in silence, others feel more comfortable working to the beat of their favorite tunes. We asked employees of The edge what kind of music – if any – they liked to play while they worked. Here’s a sampling of the widely differing responses we received.

My go-to flow state music for the past five or six years has been the 45 Warm focus playlists from Patrick Ewing’s eponymous internet radio show (RIP). Here’s a good one. Does what it says on the tin. Lately I’ve also been listening to Bobby Lyte’s Spotify show Current state. Bobby spends a few minutes talking about a topic like creativity, focus, play, or flow, then plays a half-hour block of focus music, then talks for five minutes, then another 30-minute block — basically a built-in Pomodoro timer. I like it because Bobby doesn’t grunt culture brother, just a guy who wants to do a good job on something cool and then do something else. It’s fun.

Other times, the brain has one lot of noise. I found a playlist named Instrumental psychedelic stoner rock it usually does. Or I turn to something like The HUwhich I found by tweeting something like “This death metal isn’t that enough. Is there anything like that but also Tuvan throat singing or something? Or I just add a song CHVRCHES or The knife on repeat.

That’s when I’m alone. When the kids are around, it is often Graceland. Or, inevitably, the Encanto soundtrack. For a family that claims not to talk about Bruno, they are definitely talking about Bruno. — Nathan Edwards, editor-in-chief of reviews

Just like Nathan, I’m a bit of a jack-of-all-trades. I load up Spotify, think of a particular artist I want to hear, and just go ham on an album, a playlist, or even entire discographies at a time. I may often stick to my wheelhouse of hardcore and punk music, classical or contemporary, but I also dabble in adjacent genres. I try to adapt to the type of work I do, tapping into energetic stuff for when I feel I need a jolt or slower stuff when I want to settle into a sack and rhythm. I will also sometimes give my music a theme, like listening a lot The damned And The misfits in the month of October.

But sometimes I mix it up and play a lot of video game soundtracks or lo-fi beats when it feels like the lyrics are distracting my little pea brain. In that case I will turn to Lofi Girl’s never-ending chill streams hours or even days at a time on YouTube. But whether I need those softer electronic beats to keep me calm or some screeching guitars from the Demise (2016) soundtrack, I almost always need tunes playing in my office to drown out the silence.

And when all that doesn’t help me focus, I turn to a Twitch stream when I’m half listening to it as if some kind of geeky radio show hits the right motivational chord in my head. — Antonio G. Di Benedetto, trade writer

During the workday, what I listen to can vary greatly. I could choose Broadway musicals, 1920s jazz, Celtic folk, klezmer, or a variety of other genres. But when I’m feeling really overwhelmed and desperately in need of some comfort music, I always turn to Gilbert and Sullivan – especially the 1959 complete (with dialogue) version of HMS Pinafore of the D’Oyly Carte Opera Company. This despite the fact that I know the entire score And libretto by heart — I’ve been listening to this album since I was six years old and still have my parents’ original (and badly scratched) record somewhere in our basement. Maybe that’s why I find it so soothing.

In the evenings, I try to dedicate at least an hour (or more, if possible) to my fiction writing projects. For that I need background music that is melodic, keeps me awake and alert, but isn’t too distracting – so nothing with lyrics. Lately I’ve turned to really old-fashioned classical music — Vivaldi, Mozart, Bach, etc. — which I get from various YouTube channels. The nice thing about this is that they can go on for hours without requiring me to find a new playlist, so I can focus on my writing instead of figuring out what to listen to next. — Barbara Krasnoff, Review Editor

I’m a huge fan of alternative and outlaw country music, and ever since I came across Charley Crockett and saw him live, I’ve struggled to listen to much else. His songs hit that perfect balance of blues-y western nostalgia. His recent Tiny Desk concert with NPR is a joy to play on my second monitor while I work.

Better yet, playing his music in the background while I ride around on a horse Red Dead Redemption 2 really sets the mood for the entire game. I also recommend listening to “Odessa” or “Borrowed Time” on a road trip. Really, just listen to Charley Crockett whenever you want. — Kaitlin Hatton, audience manager

I’m resistant to classifying ambient music as background noise, as the genre rewards good, attentive listening. Without melody and familiar structure, the best ambient artists find something unexpected and sublime in the contours of tone and texture. And so!

But… I’d be lying if I said I didn’t set it up often when my focus is firmly on a Google Doc open on my laptop. For the past year I’ve been obsessed with the work of Kali Malone, a pipe organist who operates in the strange tangle between electronic and acoustic realms. Her record from 2022 Living Torch is an expressive, harmonic drone stretched over two movements. She was released earlier this year Spring hides its joyan equally contemplative but more extensive work with guitar and cello accompaniment.

These are all very pretentious things (Malone describes herself as a “post-minimalist”). But it’s easy to look past that as you stare endlessly at your computer screen, caught up in a trance of your own. – Kevin Nguyen, editor in chief

Like many of my colleagues, I find it extremely difficult to write when listening to music with lyrics in it; I think it might be overloading the part of my brain that deals with language. However, there is one exception: Girl Talk All day, a 71 minute gapless album that contains the most catchy parts of nearly 400 other songs, from Jay-Z’s “Dirt Off Your Shoulder” to Nirvana’s “In Bloom”, MGMT’s “Kids” and John Lennon’s “Imagine”. For whatever reason, I can still write most of the time while listening to it – and it’s also perhaps one of the greatest works of art I’ve ever experienced.

For those times when I can’t work with it, I turn to soundtracks. Although I will occasionally try new ones (I put in some miles with Ludwig Göransson’s working on Basic principle recently), I have a playlist of albums that reliably kick me into gear. My favorites include The soundtrack of Ahoy be first excellent documentary The first video gameTrent Reznor & Atticus Ross’ compositions for The social networkAnd Jim Guthrie’s work for Indie game: the movie. Depending on my mood, I may also release some video game soundtracks, such as the one for Furi, Hotline Miamior Thomas was alone.

I should also mention my very weird workout music: I have no idea why, but I found The Antlers’ typically sad album hospice be great for running. I fully admit that it may not work for everyone – it’s energy efficient, melodic and it’s hard to jog and cry at the same time – but for some reason I really enjoy putting a spin on it while I go in for a few miles. – Mitchell Clark, news writer

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve discovered more and more that I have a soft spot for instrumental music – especially the romantic, sweeping arrangements that emanate from Reykjavík, Mosfellsbær and other towns across Iceland. Pianist Eydis Evensen Bijlurone of my favorite records of recent years, has become a mainstay in my work rotation, thanks to its delicate piano work and understated horns, much like Ólafur Arnalds’ 2018 smash to remind, a piano-heavy album that essentially functions as chamber music with a futuristic flourish. Then there is the work of the late Jóhann Jóhannsson, a brilliant composer who scored The theory of everything, Arrivaland a series of award-winning films before his untimely death in 2018.

Clearly, all of these records contain more nuance and definition than I can put into words (don’t ask me to describe what post-minimalism, post-classic, or post-everything is). The common thread of all these works, however, is that they convey a sense of calm rooted in melody, repetition, and the kind of rich, melancholy textures that I imagine only Iceland’s wild weather and unmistakable vistas can evoke. It must be the lava flows. — Brandon Widder, Commerce Editor-in-Chief

The vast majority of my Spotify listening during the workday falls under one specific genre: epic film scores. I’m talking about the soundtracks that get your blood pumping, that make you feel like you could run through a wall or save humanity, or at least win a drag race against Vin Diesel. Soaring strings, booming bass, never-ending crescendos – it makes even the most banal email a little more spectacular to write.

Fortunately, this is a rich genre. I listened to Klaus Badelt Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack about 700,000 times, over and over, over hundreds of working days. When that wears off, I’ll switch to The dark knight and jamming for a few hours with Hans Zimmer and James Newton Howard. Maybe some Start BRAAAAGHS to get the day started. And when in doubt, go further The social network. (Anything from Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross is probably a winner.) The Bourne Identity has a great score, just like The Martian. Motivation‘s score is just as moody and weird as the movie itself.

You can’t go wrong on the TV side The Kink or Billions or Stop and catch fire. (HACF is probably my second most played soundtrack, behind Pirates.) Spotify even has one Ultimate epic movie music playlist that’s a pretty good place to start – but instead of playing the playlist, I’d think of it more as a starting point to find individual scores you love.

And if nothing else works, go back to Badelt and throw “He’s a Pirate.” It never fails. — David Pierce, editor-in-chief