One thing I love about going to the same cafe almost every morning is that it becomes a staple in your life. After a while the people there seem to know you. They know your order. They know when you’re likely to stop by. Soon they start making your drink before you order it and sometimes they’ll even have it ready before you stop by. It’s been lovely exploring new places around the city like HÔM, Trap, Bluish and others. But it is an even lovelier feeling to become a regular somewhere. For me that’s Cafe Sài Gòn Đĩa Than.
There’s three parts to Đĩa Than: the coffee cart, the seating area, and the backroom. Most days I grab and go, either on foot or on bike from the street. Some days I sit and chill, either outside or inside, where you can see different vinyl records on the walls. One day, Yến, the owner, was making coffee up front while Lộc, fellow owner, was in the backroom sitting with a customer showing them different records. It was a day like any other day but for some reason I decided it was past time I learned something about these people who ran this cafe I’d been frequenting for so long. I asked Yến what her favorite record album was. At first she was confused, paused, and then started scanning the three walls made up of different albums with all of the memories etched into each vinyl until finally she singled one out. Một Chiều Thu, which translates to One Autumn Afternoon. That’s the one. I thanked her, went home, and started on my homework.
The album consists of 9 tracks, 5 on the A side, 4 on the B side. The A side features Trọng Bắc’s Không Còn Mùa Thu (No More Autumn), Hoàng Yến Chibi’s Thu Vàng (Golden Autumn), Lê Hiếu’s Khoảnh Khắc (Moment), Hương Giang’s Nhìn Những Mùa Thu Đi (Watching the Autumns Go), and Hồng Nhung’s Nhớ Mùa Thu Hà Nội (Missing Hanoi Autumn). The B side features another of Hương Giang’s songs Mùa Thu Cho Em (Autumn For You), another of Trọng Bắc’s and same as the title of the album with Một Chiều Thu (One Autumn Afternoon), then Diệu Hiền’s Chuyển Bến (Transfer), and finally Quang Minh’s Thu Quyến Rũ (Charming Autumn). All nine tracks touch on the themes of autumn. I did my best to read through the lyrics, listen, and decipher how it all ties together.
Starting on the A side, No More Autumn felt like a farewell when referring to the irreversible nature of lost love in contrast to the seasons that come and go. Golden Autumn spoke about the symbolism of golden leaves drifting to the ground representing golden yet scattered memories of love and longing. Moment focuses on this moment in time, appreciating how the present is enough to make you feel alive and make you feel love’s presence inside your heart. Watching the Autumns Go By felt more reflective as one watches the seasons of life going by and all the beauty and sadness of such passing. Before flipping over, Missing Hanoi’s Autumn leaned more nostalgic showing how inseparable some physical elements like fallen leaves and cool morning air remain intertwined with long held memories of misty morning walks.
Now on to the B side, Autumn For You felt more romantic in the quiet recognition of a moment shared together amidst whispering leaves and streets bathed in golden sunlight. One Autumn Afternoon, from what I read and heard, is the emotional centerpiece of the album — it captures every detail of autumn just beautifully. It was also originally produced by the legendary Trịnh Công Sơn. If there’s one song to go and listen to, either by Bắc or Sơn, that’s the one. Transfer referred to the idea of impermanence and the inevitability of change using the symbolism of the river and the wind, silently flowing and carrying memories. And finally to round things out, Charming Autumn elegantly celebrates the cyclical nature of autumn and specifically of its return year after year, helping many reflect on the past and move into the future feeling renewed. It was a journey to listen to this album, read through the lyrics, and try my best to make sense of the different interpretations, symbols, and feelings that encircle autumn.
But, if I had to guess, listening to these songs on my laptop isn’t how it was intended to be listened to. I knew I had to return to the cafe to truly appreciate the album even if just for a little bit. I usually go when they open early in the morning, but this time I went in the afternoon — it was only fitting. Yến and Lộc were nice enough to let me into the backroom to sit down, listen to the music, take pictures, and ask questions. It was nice to learn a bit more from Yến and Lộc themselves, too. They’re both from Saigon, opened the cafe in 2018, and have a deep love for music, coffee, and people. I was hoping to buy the album that day and begin my journey of collecting vinyl records but unfortunately it was sold out. Perhaps one autumn afternoon in the future I’ll finally start my collection.
It’s funny how some things work out. You can go to the same cafe every morning, day after day, and then—bam!—the owners recommend an album that captures the beauty, the sadness, the depth of autumn. Before you know it it’s almost September in Vietnam, and the sweet melodies of this album start floating around in your head, circling back whenever you find yourself back at the cafe, circling back in your thoughts on the way to and from work, circling back round and round until you begin to feel like the needle on a record finding its groove, finding its beat, finding its path through life. With all of this spinning around in my head, I found myself returning to John Keats’ poem ‘To Autumn,’ and specifically the question he asks and immediately answers: “Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too.”
In other words, don’t worry whether it’s spring or autumn. Each season has its own songs. Each song has its own beauty. The songs of spring are in spring. The songs of autumn are in autumn. Let spring be spring. Let autumn be autumn. And let yourself fall into the rhythm of it all.
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