Back in my sophomore year of high school, I set a goal for myself: to discover as much music as possible. I realized that the realm of music was limitless; there were millions of artists, albums and tracks to listen to. I got Rate Your Music and Last.fm accounts to discover new songs and releases. I bookmarked every artist recommendation TikTok that popped up on my feed. I zoomed into people’s Topsters on X and took note of every album cover that captured my eye. And then one day in February of that year, an album appeared on my Spotify home page: Diaries by Chestnut Bakery.
For a shoegaze and dream-pop band based in Zhuhai, China, it surprised me that this album was predominantly in English. But that didn’t detract from my experience whatsoever. The opening guitar chords of “Saturday Afternoon” immediately captured my attention, and the sinogaze soundscapes entranced my brain, especially with tracks like “Moon Palace.” In combination with the dreamy vocals, Chestnut Bakery’s lyrics, full of heartbreak (like on “Close My Eyes”) spoke to me. But there was one song in particular that stood out to me — track eight, “I Love You Mr Snowball.”
The track starts with a simple melody on the guitar, but despite its simplicity, the tune captivated my ears. And then the vocals kick in:
“I will always remember your pale blue eyes / Pink nose that covered in snowy white.”
Though beautiful, at first I struggled with trying to figure out what these lyrics were describing, and who Mr. Snowball was. As the calming vocals continued and a guitar solo hit, the answer finally came to me: the album’s cover. A cat. I have never had a pet before, and consequently, I had no idea what the love between an owner and their pet felt like; but because of this song, I managed to feel that — a love filled with dedication, devotion and care. It made me miss a cat that I never had.
“We can dance ’till it all goes wrong / Dance, in my arms.”
Just like a film, a television show or a novel, the way a song ends will always stick with you. “I Love You Mr Snowball” ends in a gorgeous crescendo of sorts: a melodica plays the harmony of the track. There is no other way to describe it than beautiful. The first time it rang in my ears, they immediately shot up, my heart skipped a beat and I let out a gasp. It felt like the audible form of the word “lovely.” Even as the track finished, the album continued to play and as the rest of the day carried on, I couldn’t get that melody out of my head.
For the rest of the year, I would listen to the album whenever I was in the mood to hear delightful Chinese dream pop. And every time I played Diaries, “I Love You Mr Snowball” came on and the melodica entranced me every time. In the days before Christmas that year, I found the song to be a companion of sorts. It felt fitting for the season; the melody, vocals and the title screamed winter to me. As I carried on day by day during the harsh cold, that song would blast through my headphones to comfort me as I froze.
I barely listened to the song the following year for some strange reason. Sure, it came up on my playlist from time to time, but I didn’t think of it as much but background music. There were nights, however, when I found myself humming that melody — an earworm stuck in my head, a melodica haunting my ears. But I just couldn’t put my finger on it. I forgot the name. Perhaps it was my fault, and that goal of listening to as much music as possible came back to bite me, leaving me unable to remember the name of a song. That winter, there was no Mr. Snowball to accompany me.
The following summer, to kill the days until my first year of college, I found myself rummaging through old Spotify playlists, relistening to songs and reminiscing about the memories I had with them. During the twilight hours of one particular day, I put on a playlist, hit shuffle and a dreamy track dedicated to one’s cat began to play. Flashbacks of a February and December two years prior played through the projector in my brain. The melodica I constantly hummed to myself rang before my ears, and I let out a sigh of relief knowing I would never forget that song again. “I Love You Mr Snowball” accompanied me for the rest of the summer, drastically different from that winter of my sophomore year.
On Dec. 30, 2024, I woke up shivering on a cold Chicago winter’s day. With New Year’s Eve soon approaching, I decided there was nothing better to do than make a bowl of hot oatmeal and go on my phone. After scrolling through Instagram for a couple of minutes, a post from Rye, the vocalist for Chestnut Bakery, appeared on my home page. It seemed like a simple photo dump from an artist I followed, but then a video caught me off guard: an artist playing a familiar harmony on the melodica.
There is nothing more captivating than seeing an artist work. Directors staging a scene, painters brushing strokes on their canvas and in this case, a musician producing an angelic sound out of thin air. Witnessing art being born can not only make someone more inspired to create art, but also make them more passionate about the art they already love.
Watching the creation of “I Love You Mr Snowball,” but in particular, the melody, made me realize something: This is one of my favorite songs ever. I remembered the day I first listened to the track and realized that it was dedicated to a cat. And in the video, a cat comes into frame and is fascinated by the melodica, trying to reach it as Rye continues to play. But she doesn’t shrug them off or shoo them away. In fact, she continues to play. This made me think about love, one of the reasons I believe art is made and why I make art. Love is the very thing that fuels the creation of art, after all, it stems from the soul and the heart And in the production of this track, it was right in my face — the love between an owner and their cat.
There are songs that you don’t realize are made for you at the start, ones that’ll follow you throughout your life. Perhaps it’ll first appear as a song on the radio, or a suggested song on an auto-generated playlist or track eight on an album. You’ll like it from the first listen, maybe keep it on repeat for a day and have a specific portion of the song stuck in your head. But then you’ll forget about it. You’ll go a long time without listening to the song. And then one day, the song appears out of nowhere. You listen to it again. And then you fall madly in love with it. That’s what “I Love You Mr Snowball” was for me.
Daily Arts Writer JC Rafal can be reached at rafaljc@umich.edu.
