“Riot!” is the last song on Earl Sweatshirt’s Some Rap Songs. It’s one minute and six seconds of instrumentals, sampling a song by the same name by South African jazz trumpeter Hugh Masekela, who was also a friend of Earl Sweatshirt’s father.
The song, despite being so short and without lyrics, is so moving. It’s uplifting yet melancholic. It sounds nostalgic and bittersweet. It reminds me of the way we sometimes romanticize the darkest times of our lives, reflecting with rose colored glasses. Yet, it also reminds me of the end credits scene of a movie, one where the characters experience so much hardship and conflict, to finally find peace and move forward.
People on Reddit have put it better than me; someone said it reminds them of a grainy, sun-drenched beer commercial and another said it feels like waking up to realize you’ve found happiness.
I’ve returned to this song countless times since I first heard it, but I love it most when it stumbles upon me unexpectedly. Two years ago, during my first winter in New York, a season I characterize by my loneliness and helplessness, I heard the song playing in a noisy sake bar. I couldn’t help but smile in the blur of my drunken haze.
As I’ve navigated early adulthood, I’ve come to call certain experiences my Riot! moments. These are small instances that feel like happy endings, ones imbued with hope. Since 2020, I’ve kept a running list in my notes app, one for every year.
2020
In late 2020 I was seeing this boy I really liked (Brandon, mentioned in my post “the love club”). I used to meet him in a Target parking lot, where I would abandon my car to get in his so that he could drive us sometimes an hour away for our planned date. One day in December, it was a drizzly, overcast day, and I was driving down the highway to our Target listening to “Self-care” by Mac Miller on repeat (still one of my favorite songs). That was such an exciting, yet anxiety-filled time of my life, experiencing my first crush and dating experience as an adult.
2021
In the fall of 2021, I was working on my undergraduate thesis, preparing my grad school applications, and getting through the semester. In the morning, my research advisor organized a lunch gathering for our lab. It was one of the few times we saw each other in person, since most of our meetings were on Zoom. I loved doing research in college—I felt supported by my advisor and fellow lab members, I loved talking to and learning from the more senior members and our PhD student, I loved the experiences I was getting. Leaving the high of that event, I went to my favorite coffee shop in my college town, marked by its eclectic and moody atmosphere to work on a paper I was writing about the history of drug policies in America. I sat outside, enveloped by the cool fall air, reading research papers on my laptop as I observed the trees changing color around me. I realized in that moment how much I’d come to love my college town, despite how much I dreaded attending my alma mater when I was in high school.
2022
During spring break of my final semester of college, I took a trip to Ghana, a country I was always fascinated by and wanted to visit. I went as part of an organization I led in college with seven people who I grew close to during this trip. We were together 24/7 and I learned so much about all of them whether through daytime conversations or during our late-night drinking games. I shared a large bed with two other girls. I would get my hair braided and we would share stories about our experiences with sex or our thoughts on crystals and manifestation. I vividly remember sitting in the van one day, listening to a song sampling Missy Elliot for what felt like the hundredth time, feeling a surge of happiness as I was surrounded by these people that I felt bonded to in this country I loved exploring.
2023
One summer evening in New York, I had plans to go to a Sofar Sounds concert with my friend, a low-key experience where you listen to small artists perform their music. Before we went, we took hits of my friend’s pen, and I don’t think we were subtle, sitting there with our red-tinged eyes. After the concert, which was filled with talented artists, we went on a walk in Little Island and sat in the amphitheater as it got dark. I looked around me as I saw couples sitting together scattered across the amphitheater, some leaning their head on their partner’s shoulder, some resting their head on their partner’s lap. I was an observant of very intimate moments, seeing a scene that looked straight out of a movie. My friend then pointed out the direct view in the sky above us: the big dipper.
2024
For spring break in the last semester of grad school, I went on a trip to Las Vegas with my friends. Our first evening together, we took edibles and walked around the strip, ending up at the ARIA where we put our names down to try Din Tai Fung. While we were waiting, we went upstairs to take advantage of a $2 happy hour oyster deal, which we hadn’t tried before. Still, I don’t know if I actually enjoy oysters or if I was just high. Then, we headed back down to Din Tai Fung, getting the perfect assortment of cocktails and dishes. Sitting there with my friends and chewing on perfectly crunchy cucumber salad was an indescribable euphoria.
I still have yet to experience a Riot! moment for 2025. This current period of my life is uncertain and lacks my usual optimism that has carried through the past years. But it’s only March, so there’s still time. After all, these moments arrive when I don’t expect it.