Ryuichi Sakamoto walks into a restaurant in Murray Hill (stop me if you’ve heard this one before…).
By and large, we’re living in an age of unprecedented control regarding external stimuli. Part of that is due simply to advancements in technology—central air, silent electric cars, smart alarms in lieu of roosters—but many of us also spend far fewer hours per week confronting surroundings that make us say, “I wouldn’t do it that way.” At the end of 2021, around 30 million Americans worked from home full-time. That number is only likely to increase as more and more companies opt for remote-first arrangements, and polling from Gallup shows that 94% of workers prefer to have a remote setup in the future.
All that being said, I don’t think it’s too controversial a sentiment to note that most of life’s most inspiring events occur outside the home. So how should one express dissatisfaction when it comes to inevitable shortcomings in ambiance? Sure, you could write a strongly-worded Google review; you might submit snarky responses to an anonymous survey; you may even demand to speak to a manager. But maybe the best course of action is to get down to the details and consider how you’d really change things. Instead of seething in silence, why not try building out your own vibe par excellence?
Of course, that’s easier said than done.
Italian inventor and radio pioneer Guglielmo Marconi found that wireless waves weren’t affected by the Earth’s curvature, thus setting the stage for an audio revolution—and bad restaurant playlists.
One person who knows a lot about getting that intangible feeling right is Arman Naféei. His official title, in fact, is Directeur D’Ambiance at the Chateau Marmont (a role he pursues in addition to other ventures, like his delightful internet radio show ARE WE ON AIR?).
During a recent interview, he described three crucial elements to ensure a room is on the right track: sound, lighting, and temperature. “That’s what really influences a space,” Naféei outlined. “It can make it incredible or really terrible.” Interestingly, some places that should be seriously attuned to making you feel comfortable swing and miss on these benchmarks. Changing rooms, he said, tend to have awful lighting, weird echo-y sounds, and “usually they’re also very cold.”
Getting the vibe right is big business, after all. Sure, most of us have that one cafe where we know the tunes will always be on point. But what about the big dogs who achieve economies of scale and face new challenges of quality control? Well, they might call up a company called Vibenomics, whose mission is to “help retail businesses control a vibe that will drive their business economics.” The firm’s research-backed analyses center on the bottom-line benefits of outsourcing your audio strategy—their words, not mine—and unlocking the true potential of what can best be described as a captive audience (read: better vibe = way more $$$$).
If all that sends a shiver down your spine, it’s ok. But somebody’s gotta do it, and avant-garde selectors of critical acclaim don’t come cheap—unless you make food they really, really like.
That brings us back to Mr. Sakamoto, upscale dining on 39th Street, and music that was “so bad. so bad.” When the celebrated Japanese composer and trailblazer of experimental ambient records finally decided the sub-par soundtrack was interfering with meals at his favorite restaurant, Kaijitsu, he took swift action. And rather than telling the maître d' to just turn it down or flip to a different radio station, he offered an alternative.
“I love your food, I respect you and I love this restaurant, but I hate the music,” he wrote to them. “Who chose this? Whose decision of mixing this terrible roundup? Let me do it.” Harsh words, no doubt. Sakamoto followed through, though, delivering new selections to match not just the food, but what he saw as key details of the space as a whole (furniture texture, paint hues). The result was a 47-track playlist featuring Nicolas Jaar, Ahmad Jamal, Bill Evans deep cuts, Aphex Twin, and much more. It’s a good listen, even if you’re not dining on Michelin-starred Shojin cuisine.
Of course, Ryuichi Sakamoto’s curatorial prowess precedes itself. Suffice to say, I don’t have the stones to pull off a move like this. Not yet, at least. But if I ever work up the courage to voice concerns about my gym’s ear-splitting audio situation, I at least won’t turn up at the front desk empty-handed.