For reasons that defy logic, caffeine, or the laws of neural firing, R.E.M.’s “What’s the Frequency, Kenneth?” has set up camp in my brain. Rent-free. No deposit, no lease, just living there playing at 3 a.m., during Zoom meetings, and while I’m feeding the dogs.

Now, I haven’t heard that song in ages. I didn’t stumble on an R.E.M. playlist. I didn’t have a conversation about Dan Rather or media paranoia of the ‘90s (because yes, that bizarre song title was inspired by an actual assault on Rather where his attacker kept shouting the line). So why this song? Why now?

I think my brain just decided it was time for a little chaos. A little musical static. Because “What’s the Frequency, Kenneth?” isn’t a song. It’s a state of mind. That line itself feels like the national mood some days: confusing, jittery, and mildly paranoid. We’re all Kenneth, just trying to tune into the right frequency in a world full of mixed signals, Wi-Fi drops, and contradictory news alerts.

And honestly, isn’t an earworm just your brain’s way of buffering? Like, it’s saying, “Hang tight, while I process 8,000 thoughts, 42 emails, and the memory of something embarrassing you did in 2007.”
So it loops a song fragment instead. A catchy neurological holding pattern.

Maybe that’s why mine picked R.E.M. They always sound slightly apocalyptic yet oddly comforting and perfect for our times.

Of course, I’ve tried to shake it off. Played other songs. Switched to podcasts. Even tried silence (a terrifying experiment). But no luck. Kenneth keeps coming back. Maybe he’s trying to tell me something. Maybe my brain’s frequency is just off this week.

Either way, I’m choosing to embrace it. Because if my brain’s going to glitch, it may as well have a good soundtrack.

So, what’s your frequency today?
Because mine’s apparently set to 1994, fuzz guitars, and a slightly confused anchorman.