2023: a soundtrack
My songs of the year + their moments
In 2023, I loved music. It seems like an understatement. I’ve always loved music. I love music I used to queue for hours outside venues for barely famous songwriters. I love music so much I buzzed like an annoying fly around city’s music scenes. I love music so much I made a job out of gushing over it. But there was something about this year, the new songs it gave me and the gigs I went to, that made me really, really love music.
I think I was more considered maybe. I think I toed a more delicate balance between familiar and new. I had control all year, shared the playlists with no one, compromised for nothing. I listened to what I wanted to, sounded back to myself whatever mood I needed and skipped any song that didn’t suit. If I needed sad, I listened to sad. If I needed empowerment, I found someone to sing that to me. If I needed to dance, I found music to dance to.
But I think I was also more open. I’ve never really found words to explain that side of things. I say I’m a stubborn listener. It takes a lot to get me to give something new a chance, I rarely listen to the fresh releases Spotify serves me. I was admittedly, terrible on my work emails. Out of the hundreds of new songs sent to me every week, I’d listen to a handful (sorry PR people). But every now and then I’d open myself up and seem to decide before even pressing play that I would love this new song. Or a track would land in my lap, through TikTok or a good email subject line, and I’d cling onto it. Some of my favourite songs of the year were stumbled across by a happy accident and they stuck around.
Making end of year lists is a difficult task. I’m a cultural hoarder so boiling things down to 10 or 20 tracks in a neat playlist is impossible. But the somewhat list I’ve got feels like an autobiography. The songs are a soundtrack to things big and small. I’ll tell you some of the story.
Ashnikko – ‘You Make Me Sick’
“Onwards yay!” is what I called the playlist. I made it in January, I think. It was a scream in the shower, a hand on my back pushing me to Aldi or the post office or just generally outside. It was a companion that took no shit and shed no tears. I listened to it morning, noon and night until I was sick of it and I was better. Ashnikko was prepping for a new album release so seemed to keep handing me new songs while I needed them. By the time it came out, I didn’t need it anymore but when I see her Instagram posts, I seem to smile at them like she’s an old friend. I like them like that says “thank you”.
Paramore – ‘You First’ OR ‘Thick Skull’
Some friends get exactly what you need. What I needed was someone to sit next to and Jessie more than obliged. We sat together in that bakery every Monday for a few months, went back to hers and played with the cutest little dog I’ve ever seen in my life and then I’d wander back towards the station and home. The new Paramore album sounds like that walk in its various states of feeling. First, I loved ‘Thick Skull’, that kind of self-pitying angst was a blanket that I held round myself on the bus from therapy to Finsbury Park. I still love it. Hayley’s lyricism is so specific and delicate but so packed with power. She articulates such a specific feeling of never, ever seeming to learn your listen, and the music captures the sad frustration perfectly.
‘You First’ also proved infectious. A whole other side of the coin, the track is joyously petty and upbeat without being draining. For a significant amount of the year, ‘You First’ was my daydream song, in which I was the rockstar I’ve always longed to be.
Lana Del Rey – ‘Let The Light In (ft. Father John Misty)’
I was called to a dark room in the Universal headquarters to listen to the Lana Del Rey record before anyone else. In a gaggle of other journalists, I dressed up for the occasion and sipped a coke at 10am because that’s what you’re supposed to do for Lana. I’ve never listened to an album like that before and it was both horrible and magical. As a reviewer, it felt wrong to listen once and go off and write. But as a Lana fan, being isolated with no distraction was a joy. I feel like I heard every little detail and minor reference. By the time I left, I already held the album to my heart. It’s still close to it today.
I was destined to love this song. The second I saw it on that tracklist piece of scrap paper, I knew I would. My two favourite artists coming together for a classic duet. It’s Johnny and June. It’s Dylan and Baez. It’s Mitchell and Taylor. It’s everything to me. I love so many songs off this record with each taking a turn to be my favourite. ‘The Grants’ soundtracked the gloom. ‘Peppers’ was the colour coming back into my face. ‘Margaret’ was a hug and a hand hold. And then in June, ‘Let The Light In’ endured as an anthem for foolishness and permission, I had a crush and I listened on repeat.
Blondshell – ‘Salad’
“Gonna get big, gonna get big, I’m so scary…
…gonna make it hurt, gonna make it hurt
but I don’t know how to do that within the framework”
I was winded when I first heard it. Some songs stop you in your tracks. Some songs say it so well that you can’t find the words to try and translate. When it came to the end of the year lists at work, I submitted this song with a note; “I think this is one of the most important songs of the decade,” and I stand by it. I’ve never heard a song express the rage and upset of sexual assault like this, managing to balance all the nuance with a total, gutwrenching catharsis.
I saw her play live twice this year and both times I joined the chorus of women singing this song like our lives depended on it. I screamed till my throat hurt. I listened to it on the walk home from the worst therapy sessions and tried to hold that feeling in my gullet until I could get home and scream the words again
Baxter Dury – ‘Celebrate Me’
The story of my love for Baxter Dury is a tale of two parts. It begins by the Thames on an unseasonable warm April weekday. I wore a white silk dress and sunglasses. Willlow wore a billowing blue dress and we giggled our way round the corner. “Baxter is holding court by the river,” his PR told us and we giggled again. He wore a suit, he has eyes that undress you, he talks with so much effortless charm it’s intimidatingly magnetic.
If I’m honest, I was there for no real reason than to impress some other guy by being able to say I’d met Baxter. But I was there and suddenly I was obsessed. With some of the songs, yes. I love ‘Celebrate Me’, ‘Aylesbury Boy’ and ‘Leon’. But mostly, I was obsessed with Baxter. I crushed on a celebrity as a precursor. I went along that day in April for no reason other than to have some fun, dipping my toes into the feeling again, laughing with a new friend.
The second part of the story comes in September; clinging a metal barrier with one hand and a drink with the other. A new best friend stood to my right. It was past midnight and in Lisbon and there was not a single doubt in my mind that I was now a confident swimmer in fun. I was diving head first into it. I screamed, “Marry me Baxter!”
STONE – ‘Left Right Forward’
Something happened to me in May when I dove into a mosh pit and came out a different person it seems. We were in Brighton and I was back on my feet. Better than that even. “You’re on such good form,” Dale said to me at some point as I suddenly seemed to have a super powered social battery. I noticed the time on the first night as we wandered off the peer after doing shots of baby Guinness and swaying to Lime Garden (another favourite of the year). It was 2am; the latest I’d been out in years.
The next morning, we all laughed over sausage sandwiches and the hangover didn’t seem that bad. By midday, we drank some sort of mint liquor and the exhaustion never found me. In a tent on the beach front, the Liverpool band sang their gobby rock when Beth grabbed my hand and pulled me into the mosh pit at the front. Passing her camcorder between us, the footage is a mess but you can hear us laughing. The set ended but something about it stuck around. I’ve danced at every gig since.
Chappell Roan – ‘Red Wine Supernova’
I have no real story for this one other than it’s a song that makes you feel like God. I’ve been drunk on tube platforms listening to it. I’ve walked home from the library in the rain listening to it. I’ve hyped myself up for dates, walking to wine bars listening to it. I’ve danced to it at her gigs. I’ve got all my friends hooked on it. Chappell Roan feels like the soundtrack to my dating life in 2023, from the sing in the shower embarrassing relatability of ‘Casual’ to the bubblegum pop fizzy feeling glory of this hit for when I remember how freeing and silly it all is.
The Japanese House – ‘Sunshine Baby’
“What do you think that line means?” Do you know what a text like that does to a girl? I had an answer. I’d had the answer for a while as this track landed in my lap from an all-time favourite artist, as if she knew exactly what stage I was at. “Putting off the end, cause in the end it always does,” she sings. I knew exactly what it meant. But it had ended, and something in this summer-dipped track made it okay.
And then he loved the song too. In the crowd at the Finsbury park show, there was shared excitement in our eyes when we turn to each other as the intro plays out. I was struck by the sudden feeling of knowing someone, even in the early days. We sung along loud, his hand in mine and both hands in the air. We agreed on a plan of action when it came to wine, one bottle now, the next just before Matty appeared. We had the same favourite song. We both came to dance to it. We had a day to reminisce on.
Fizz – ‘As Good As It Gets’
“I should be so lucky / if you’d only fuck me. Is this as good as it gets?” I hit the repeat button over and over. I put it in a playlist of songs to show future daughters. I told my friends about it.
Quinnie – ‘Better’
I talked about it this year. I stopped tiptoeing around the topic and sat opposite her and talked about it. I watched films about it. I read books about it. I wrote about it. I listened to songs about it. ‘Salad’, and ‘A Letter To An Old Poet’ and ‘Norwegian Wood’ and this. “I haven’t felt right since that day,” Quinnie sings before admitting “but what’s lost if I’ve never changed? And what he did to me is just another ditty I can play?” It guts me every time. I sing along quietly and feel it.
“I don’t know why I don’t wanna get better, I wanna stay the same / I say that I’l figure it out once all of my songs are sang.” I can’t find words to talk about that today, but I’m sure one day I will.
The Last Dinner Party – ‘Nothing Matters’
The first time, the theme was folk horror, so me and Ele sat their in white dresses and ribbons and dark eye makeup. The next time, it was Greek myths so I put on a new floral corset and painted so much blush onto my face I thought I looked beautiful. That first time, in the pub with journalists and label people, there was no theme but there was a free bar. There were obviously no themes as the festival. But at all six times I saw The Last Dinner Party this year, I danced and fell in love.
“They’re so good, who cares,” I tell anyone that dares to doubt them. I’ve never seen a band like it. If they were a cult, I’d be in it. I’d sing this song like a national anthem and do whatever they told me to.
Taylor Swift – ‘You’re Losing Me’
“How’re you feeling on official You’re Losing Me release date?” I asked her. The first time it leaked, sometime in early summer, I listened once and then tried to forget I’d ever heard it. She did the same. But in November she replied, “it feels kind of empowering now!” I agreed.
CMAT – ‘Have Fun!’
CMAT was my favourite artist this year and I think ‘Have Fun’ was my favourite song. It came when I needed it with a simple instruction that I followed. I followed it all the way to Glastonbury where we pushed to the front and sang along loud. I followed it to the nights out, where I’d listen to it downstairs then hear it coming from Ellie’s room above me. I followed it to Lisbon, to the airport where I said hi like a crazed fan because I probably am.
I followed it to her show and heard Dale singing it too at the second of the three shows he was attending on her tour. It sounds like my smile, found even brighter than I remember it being. She dusted the dirt off it, said “silly bitch, Woo!” and handed it to me. By the time she played it at Shepherds bush, my cheeks hurt.