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taste-in-music · 4 months

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My Top 30 Songs of 2023

Hello everyone! Welcome back to my annual countdown of my 30 favorite songs of the year. 2023 had a lot of great music releases, and I’m so excited to recount the songs I returned to this year. And now, let us commence with the list!

Here are 10 additional honorable mentions: "Wide Eyes" by Loviet, "I Cry When You Sleep" by Pearly Drops, "Dreamgirl" by Father Koi, "My Love Mine All Mine" by Mitski, "Batman Song" by Cat Missal, "The Neighborhood" by Grace Enger, "I Been Young" by George Clanton, "Bright Red" by Ryan Beatty, "Dumbest Girl Alive" by 100 Gecs, and "The Narcissist" by Blur.

30. Angora Hills by Doja Cat: “Angora Hills,” a hit off Doja Cat's latest album Scarlet, is airy yet effortlessly self-assured, trading between quick-spit rap verses and a chorus of kitteny coos. But don’t get too lost in the sparkling keys and cutesy voicemails. There’s a spark, an edge, a darkness lurking in the murky bass and ominous synths which lends the song a greater intensity. “'Cause love is pain but I need this shit,” Doja Cat raps on the second verse, playing out cleverly rhymes romantic fantasies with an exhibitionist spin. “I wanna show you off,” she suggests on the song’s chorus, the red-hot desire roiling just beneath the surface.

29. Slut! by Taylor Swift: I think everyone was a little surprised hearing “Slut!,” the first vault track on 1989 (Taylor’s Version). When I first saw that title, I thought I was in for a catchy package of sassy one-lines and circa-2014 pop feminism. Instead, we got a tenderhearted ballad of wispy synths and Swift’s insightful musings on love in the limelight. Commentary does creep in (“Everyone wants him, that was my crime,”) but Swift focuses more on choice imagery of a love worth risking it all for: aquamarine swimming pools, thorny roses, and lovedrunk confessions. Sometimes, the most defiant thing is knowing that no matter how people might try to strip you of dignity, they’ll never be able to take your love away from you.

28. Nothing Matters by The Last Dinner Party: All-female British rock outlet The Last Dinner Party made a splash in 2023 with their confrontational yet exuberant debut single “Nothing Matters.” For a song with such a nihilistic title, it packs a punch of gravitas and a wry sense of humor. Lead vocalist Abigail Morris knows just when to heighten the melodrama, stretching the word “sailor” into “say-lahr” and belting the final refrain to the high heavens: “You can hold me like you held her / And I will fuck you like nothing matters.” In the music video, the group stomps around a gothic mansion in frilly petticoats and leather boots, tearing up feather mattresses and lip synching down to a camera positioned six feet deep in a grave. It all exhibits a keen ability to balance out the toughness with a cheeky wink, making it clear the group is only just getting started.

27. Running Out Of Time by Paramore: Much of Paramore’s sixth album This Is Why tears into the absurdity and stress of modern life. On “Running Out Of Time,” Hayley Williams captures the breakneck speed of life accelerated by packed schedules and the 24 hour news cycle, describing a self-destructive ouroboros of trying to catch up with the clock, doing her best to do good and always coming up short. “Intentions only get you so far,” she sings, “What if I’m just a selfish prick…?” It captures the stress and self-doubt, but also the conviction to keep moving forward despite it all. Williams provides a spirited performance as always, her vocals cutting through a pop rock groove that provides just enough energy to keep you from falling down the doom spiral completely.

26. Designated Driver by Taylor Janzen: Taylor Janzen’s debut album I Live In Patterns offered up several tracks which balanced heartfelt lyrics with propulsive pop flourishes, but it was “Designated Driver” that maintained the most momentum for me throughout this year. Atop a steady thrum of shimmering synths, Janzen unpacks her mixed feelings on being the "dependable friend," cracking under the pressure like a windshield. As the song builds, Janzen unveils the self-doubt eating away at her, where the raw emotions draw the other person in to detrimental effect: “you put your trust in a daydream / ’cause you love this dying part of me.” Janzen has the acute ability to put language to even the most obscure shades of anguish and giving them a more anthemic spin. “Designated Driver” is the song you can blast to get you through the grief, even as the toxicity shrinks away in the rearview.

25. One Of Your Girls by Troye Sivan: “One Of Your Girls” is a song so smooth that it’s easy to miss the melancholy which saturates its sparkling chords and clever lyrics. Troye Sivan taps into unrequited desire atop a lush, bassy thrum, describing a love interest who “everybody wants,” but who needs to keep their queerness covert. Sivan ushers in the song’s sing-along chorus with a languid sigh, glazing his voice in vocoder to keep the ache at bay: “Give me a call if you ever get desperate," he relents, "I'll be like one of your girls.” Pair it with a gender-bending music video, and you’ve got a song that delves into just how far a person might go obscure the hurt and save face.

24. I Need A New Boyfriend by Charly Bliss: It’s been four years since Charly Bliss’s last album Young Enough, and in 2023 they blasted back onto my radar with the scuzzy, snarky single “I Need A New Boyfriend.” This time, Charly Bliss sprinkle their anthemic rock sound with a touch of hyperpopping, bleep-blorping synths and churning electric guitars. Frontwoman Eva Hendricks laments her loser lover who grouches through parties and gives backhanded compliments, her observations both witty and scathing: “It took me three years but I finally figured it out / I’m just too fun for him,” “’Cause even though we had a five year plan / I couldn’t stay with him another minute.” By the song’s riotous end, you’ll also have the conviction to kick such soul suckers to the curb.

23. Feather by Sabrina Carpenter: It’s rare that a bonus track from a deluxe edition from an album is the source of a pop artist’s ascent to stardom. Rare, but not impossible. Case and point: “Feather,” the floaty bonus track from the deluxe edition of Sabrina Carpenter’s fifth album emails I can’t send. A downy kiss-off about leaving an ex in the past, Carpenter dreamily narrates the steps to her ghosting process over a softly strut beat of key glissandos and memorable ad-libs. It’s the humorous side of “Feather” that makes it a notable hit in Carpenter’s catalogue, the touches of sarcasm cut through the sweetness and showcase her multifaceted charisma as a performer. That little chuckle she lets out as she says “I’m so sorry for your loss” is the stuff superstars are made of.

22. LEFT RIGHT by XG: There was a handful of weeks back in the spring where every iota of my brain space was taken up by XG. The global girl group broke through with videos of the group’s rappers adding their own verses onto iconic modern beats, (group leader Jurin’s verse over ROSALÍA’s “SAOKO” is a bop and a half.) In a departure from the bombastic samples and in-your-face performances of those videos, XG takes a subtler approach on “LEFT RIGHT,” an ebullient blend of R&B and pop that goes down easy but has the same insidious ability to get stuck in my head. The lyrics are goofy yet earnest enough to make up for it. This boy has the narrator’s heart “Spinnin’ round and round / Just like my Pirellis, burning on the ground.” When a love is so strong it can pull you any direction, you’ve got no choice but to kick into gear and let the vibes carry you away.

21. Hummingbird by Metro Boomin ft. James Blake: When I took my seat in the theater to watch Spiderman: Across the Spider-Verse, the second installment in Sony’s stunning animated superhero franchise, I knew the music was going to slap, (the needle drop for “What’s Up Danger” from the first movie is one of my all-time favorites.) While the soundtrack has many a banger, it was ultimately the tender hearted “Hummingbird” that I latched onto. James Blake lends his silky soft vocals to wistfully pine for a love that always remains just out of reach. Metro Boomin elevates the distance Blake describes with spacious and spacey production, dappled with piano and a chirpy sample of Patience & Prudence's "Tonight You Belong to Me." It’s a love song that spans time and space, across the Spider-Verse and well beyond.

20. Patty's Diner by Upstate: “Patty’s Diner” by Upstate came to me via a recommendation from a friend, (shoutout @bellamysgriffin) and I don’t know whether to thank or throttle her for it, because it’s one of the most potent tearjerkers I’ve heard in recent memory. Upon my first listen, I found the song to be starkly understated, nothing but a plucked guitar and traded verses from both lead vocalists. The central character is Patty, a diner owner who passed away from cancer. Now, her memory lives on in late-night radio commercials and fading recollections of her kindness, all recounted with a melancholy shrug. In its staggering simplicity, “Patty’s Diner” captures something potent about the grief we hold for loved ones: it can come with a smile as well as tears. Take a page from Patty’s book and keep pushing forward. What else are we supposed to do?

19. There It Goes by Maisie Peters: On her sophomore album The Good Witch, Maisie Peters writes a lot about the breakup experience. A whole number of spunky kiss-offs from that record could’ve landed on this list, but as the autumn chill locked in for the final months of the year, I found myself more and more drawn to the album’s penultimate moment of reprieve. “There It Goes” shows Peters letting go of the relationship by pivoting towards self-improvement. Atop a warm strummed guitar groove, she lists off the steps to reconnecting with her friends and herself: going to yoga class, reading novels, stumbling through the streets of Stockholm. Much of The Good Witch focuses on the thunder of emotions which come from heartbreak. “There It Goes” is the calm after the storm. It demonstrates the much harder to describe but no less essential development that happens after growing apart: growing up.

18. Only Love Can Save Us Now by Kesha: On her latest album Gag Order, Kesha pivoted from the party anthems that put her on the map in favor of a sparer, darker sound. Then halfway through the album, “Only Love Can Save Us Now” swings in to prove that Kesha can still serve up a barn-burning banger if she wants, and thank god she does. On “Only Love Can Save Us Now,” Kesha unloads a list of unapologetic declarations over a typewriter-clack beat, each line wry and searing: “Yeah, I'm possessive / Maybe I'm possessed, bitch / Fuck yeah, I'm selfish / Shut up, eat your breakfast.” The chorus kicks in with a rollicking guitar, gospel choir, stomping drums, and jangly pianos which all lend a folksy intensity. “I don’t got no shame left,” Kesha sings in the song’s final moments, “Baby, that’s my freedom.” It’s a moment of deft catharsis on an album so heavily defined by what it holds back, a defiant invitation to exorcise your regrets and then invite your demons to come and join the dance party.

17. Mother Nature by MGMT: It’s been five years since MGMT’s last album Little Dark Age, and it feels like I’ve lived a whole lifetime since then. “Mother Nature,” the lead single off their fifth album Loss of Life, shows that MGMT have seemingly grown as much as I have. The song is warm and welcoming, built from sunshiny strummed guitars I’d usually expect from Alex G or Big Thief. But the stargazing, larger-than-life scope of the group’s past work remains, merging the mundane with the magical. “I wrote the fairytale on the midnight drive,” Andrew VanWyngarden sings in the song’s opening moments, “Wanting to know if I'm more than alive.” The rest of the song walks this line between enchantment and ennui, alluding to a greater darkness looming just beyond the horizon. The bridge makes a swing for the anthemic, describing a castle siege over scuzzy wails of distorted synth, a last swipe for hope “before the fantasy is cast into the fire.” I can’t wait to hear how “Mother Nature” fits into Loss of Life, but it’s a song that is determined to live life to the fullest, even in the most barren of landscapes.

16. brrr by Kim Petras: Over the past few years, Kim Petras has become one of the pop landscape’s most audacious players, knowing when to wallop her listeners with unrestrained discussions of sexuality and when to play it coy. She finds a perfect balance between these realms on “brrr.” Built off a beat of squelchy synths and throbbing bass, “brrr” is equal parts daring and alluring. Petras addresses a love interest who puts up thick walls of ice around their heart and makes it clear that she sees right through the charade. “I’m not one to be afraid,” she lilts teasingly on the pre-chorus. Instead of being put off, she buys in, the implication clear as she delivers the title line with a wink and a smirk: “...you think you’re so cold, brrr.” Leave it up to Petras to make even the iciest of imagery steamy as hell.

15. labour by Paris Paloma: It starts with a low male voice, way back in the mix, counting her in on four. Then, the storm clouds roll in. On social media, “labour” by Paris Paloma has been deemed an anthem of female rage, but unlike the immediate, memetic quality of its viral peers, “labour” understands that rage needs time to simmer before it explodes. Paloma airs out every grievance of how this women’s work batters us in body, mind, and spirit, ruthlessly recounting bursting capillaries, cracked skin, every bullshit archetype and patriarchy-serving expectation thrown our way. Paloma knows that at the end of the day, no amount of spectacle could hit harder than the all-too-simple truth at the song’s core: “It’s not an act of love if you make her / you make me do too much labour.” Her vocals layer and layer until the final chorus slams into you like a tidal wave of anger, and by the song's final moments, Paloma has made the narratives made to hold us back into something wholly her own.

14. Nymphs Finding the Head of Orpheus by Nicole Dollanganger: Of all the tales Nicole Dollanganger spins on her album Married In Mount Airy, “Nymphs Finding the Head of Orpheus” is by far one of the most elusive. Dollanganger offers up a foreboding atmosphere of feather-light strings and dark ambient reverb. The imagery centers on rebirth, the baptismal potential of a tepid pool, bodies reclaimed by nature. It has little to do with the gory bacchanal of the mythical moment in the title, but the insinuation remains, seeping in at the seams to suggest violence and regeneration as potentially interconnected. On an album so concerned with all the evils of men, perhaps the most terrifying thing of all is what lies beyond our standard perception of human actions, of nature locked in shadow. On "Nymphs Finding the Head of Orpheus," Dollanganger offers a glimpse of this disembodied face in the darkness, one we’ll never be able to truly know.

13. Sandrail Silhouette by Avalon Emerson: "Sandrail Silhouette" opens DJ Avalon Emerson's album & The Charm, reintroducing a new side of her craft. A departure from the electronic spin of her past work, the song feels organic yet gleaming, constructed of a move-and-shaker groove of rich strings, shuffleboard keys, and gloaming skids of bass. Emerson’s vocals waft over the landscape with the calming timbre of someone telling a bedtime story, stringing lyrics together like beads on a friendship bracelet. It’s an environment that’s easy to get lost in, so much so that it hit November before I even bothered to ask, what even is a "sandrail silhouette?" I have no clue, but it’s not so much about the words themselves as it is about the feelings they evoke, a wistful nostalgia that is aching yet hopeful. This feeling comes across in obtuse details (“Go ask a sequoia”) and stunning clarity alike (“Tell me I got more time / When all my friends are having daughters.”) Like the yearning for the past Emerson describes, my love for this song is hard to put into words. It’s easier to just sit back and let myself feel it.

12. WHAT A MAN by DEBBY FRIDAY: “WHAT A MAN” by DEBBY FRIDAY simply slams so fucking hard. I don’t know what else to say. From the very first listen I came to immediate conclusion that it slammed into oblivion and was one of my favorite songs of 2023. "WHAT A MAN" unfurls like an erotic noir thriller, all churning bass and musings on a love that’s slipped the narrator’s fingers. DEBBY FRIDAY’s lyrics are obtuse yet evocative, contributing to the seductive atmosphere: “I held a heart / It wasn’t mine / When he came looking / I wasn’t kind.” Stacks of escalating synths ratchet up the tension until all hell breaks loose on the back of a scorching electric guitar solo that’d make Andrew Lloyd Weber’s Phantom of the Opera jealous he didn’t come up with it first. It’s the kind of song that rips loose and is over all too fast, asking for forgiveness in the aftermath of ruin, and never, ever permission.

11. Top Dog by Magdalena Bay: Hands down the best pop song of the year to reference Laura Dern, a race that should by all means be a lot more competitive than it is. From its opening references to the actress, synth pop duo Magdalena Bay make it clear that this isn't a song where they're going to be taking themselves too seriously. Everything about "Top Dog" oozes lackadaisical confidence, all with a cheeky wink to the listener. Against a backdrop of strummed guitars, they pepper in samples of cameras snapping and, fittingly, dogs woofing. Not only that, but they also add in a healthy dose of aughts nostalgia with a synth palette that feels directly pulled from dial-up bleeps, Motorola ringtones, and 8-bit power-ups. Mica Tenenbaum’s vocals are a pitch-perfect balance of airy nonchalance and self-satisfaction, traversing through the goofy canine metaphors without once sounding like she’s forcing a punchline to land. It makes for a song that’s loopy, loping, and effortlessly fun.

10. Honey by Samia: It’s hard to pin down what makes the title track of Samia’s sophomore album so special. “Honey” is subtle yet anthemic, an ever-growing conviction coming into fruition over the song’s duration. “I’m not scared of sharks / I’m not scared to be naked / I’m not scared of anything,” Samia sings in the song’s opening moments, going on to narrate a continual climb towards self-confidence and determination. My favorite detail is the gradually growing backing chorus which appears and reappears with more intensity with each new iteration of the song’s main refrain. “It’s all honey,” Samia repeats, over and over at the song’s close. All the times I’ve listened to this song, and I still haven’t pinned down an exact meaning for that line, but maybe that’s the point. The nonchalance, the uncertainty, the acceptance that no matter where life takes us, it's sure to be sweet.

9. Welcome To My Island by Caroline Polachek: In the opening moment of Desire, I Want To Turn Into You, Caroline Polachek shows off the titanic potential of her voice, letting out a dexterous, breathtaking belt that warps and careens into the stratosphere. Even if the song was just comprised of its first thirty seconds, it’d probably still be on this list. But then, of course, there’s the rest of “Welcome To My Island,” a facetious introduction to the sonic space Caroline Polachek will go on to explore over the rest of the album. Over a glimmering, twitchy beat, Polachek half-raps, half-belts a series of pitches for her personal paradise of waving palm trees and placid oceans. On the song’s bridge, she gets more vulnerable, revealing the pathos amongst the phthalo blues: “I am my father’s daughter in the end,” she sings like she’s on the brink of tears, “no nothing’s gonna be the same again.” But when the groove snaps back over an outro of brassily tuned guitars and defiantly chanted “hey hey hey”s, it’s clear that Polachek’s island is worth booking an extended stay, self-doubt be damned.

8. bad idea right? by Olivia Rodrigo: “bad idea right?,” the second single on Olivia Rodrigo’s sophomore album GUTS, followed on the heels of operatic ballad “vampire” by not following it at all. Like the preceding sophomore single “deja vu,” it’s snarkier, wonkier, and (in my opinion,) way more engaging. While Rodrigo undeniably knows how to pen and pull off a dramatic power ballad, her comedic chops deserve recognition too. On “bad idea, right?” she chattily recounts a night of terrible decision making, tossing out hilarious, memorable one-liners at a dizzying rate: “…you're callin' my phone, you're all alone / And I'm sensing some undertones,” “I only see him as a friend / (The biggest lie I ever said,)” “I just tripped and fell into his bed.” The production ups the ante with a strutting bassline, ad-libs which drive every line home like Rodrigo’s inner monologue coming to life, and a squealing guitar solo in the song’s back end. " All in all, "bad idea right?" captures the tumultuous clownery that having a crush conjures up, self-aware embarrassment colliding with lovesick horniness that makes you look a wealth of poor choices the eye and brush it off with a “fuck it, it’s fine.”

7. Echolalia by Yves Tumor: Echolalia is baby babble, the sounds humans make when they don’t have a grasp on language, but still need to communicate some innate need. On their latest album Praise A Lord Who Chews, But Which Does Not Consume (Or, Simply, Hot Between World,) Yves Tumor taps into these primal urges, transmogrifying them to a cosmic level through the medium of phychedelic rock. Such is the case on slow burning second single “Echolalia,” a hazy whirlwind of devotion and desperation. “Looked up to god,” they sing in the first verse, “You looked so good.” Tumor’s voice stays in their husky lower register, gritted out with hushed intensity over an alluring blend of gleaming synths, burning bass, and heaving breaths. “The way I’m thinking, is this unnatural?” they inquire in the song’s final moments, then lay their hesitations to waste in the heat of the moment, “you look so magical." At its most intense, “Echoloalia” strips away the set dressing of pretty words and veneers, unveiling the desire, hunger, and everything that simmers just below the surface, begging to break free.

6. Casual by Chappell Roan: I’ve long bemoaned how many a great pop album has been brought to a screeching halt by a ballad haphazardly thrown in to make things more “emotional.” A pop artist holds genuine promise to me when they’re able to clear this hurdle and make an album’s slower moments just as compelling as the bops. I'm glad to announce that Chappell Roan pasts this test with “Casual,” a mid-album on her debut album The Rise and Fall Of A Midwest Princess. On "Casual," slower pace of the song provides space to let Roan's simmering frustrations with a one-sided situationship reach a breathtaking boiling point. Roan pines for something more official with a girl who insist on having “no connections,” pointing to front seat cunnilingus sessions and dinner dates with her maybe-belle’s parents as proof that they're much more than a casual fling. Eventually, Roan just can’t take it anymore. “I hate that I let this drag on so long,” she confesses at the top of her lungs, “you can go to hell.” It’s testament to Roan’s promise as an emergent pop force that she can establish compelling stakes which make the emotions of her ballads tangible, never skippable.

5. A&W by Lana Del Rey: I already gushed about “A&W” back in March for how it showcases Lana Del Rey’s versatility as a performer, her veracity as a lyricist, and her astuteness in curating her personal history. As the year progressed, “A&W” kept pulling me back into its tumultuous depths, trying to parse its meaning and always falling just a bit short. Over the course of the song’s two-part structure, Lana Del Rey deftly maps a trajectory from childhood innocence to reckoning with how the world will wolf women down without mercy, their physical bodies exploited as their humanity goes unseen. “It's not about havin' someone to love me anymore,” Del Rey states, “No, this is the experience of bein' an American whore.” Lana Del Rey has grappled with these themes of for her whole career, walking the line between nostalgic recollection and ironic deconstruction, but on “A&W” they sharpen into focus and hit both the heart and gut like never before. That switch up into the second half of the song still sends a chill down my spine every time it’s ushered in on the back of those skittering trap drums and roiling bass. “A&W” is everything that makes Lana Del Rey Lana Del Rey, it's alluring, eerie, it’s Venice, bitch, and it’s one of her best songs, period.

4. Boy's a Liar Pt. 2 by Pinkpantheress ft. Ice Spice: When I listen to “Boy’s a Liar Pt. 2” by Pinkpantheress featuring Ice Spice, I feel the popular music landscape shifting beneath my feet. A strange thought to have about a song that’s so pointedly small in scope. Even with the Ice Spice verse extending the length of “Boy’s a Liar,” the song just barely exceeds two minutes. Given such restrictions, the amount of detail both artists manage to cram in is nothing short of impressive. Pinkpantheress jam-packs the beat with bouncy synths and a drum pad which races like a fluttering pulse. Ice Spice spends most of her verse telling off the useless titular liar, but adds in a one-two punch of vulnerability near the end with a heartened confession: “…I don't sleep enough without you / And I can't eat enough without you / If you don't speak, does that mean we're through?” “Boy’s a Liar Pt. 2” is more than just a rare remix that exceeds the quality of the first installment. It’s the bona-fide hit of the TikTok generation that feels fully born of the app’s tendencies, it’s mile-a-minute pacing, nostalgic skew, casual intimacy, and brutal honesty all rolled up into an inescapable earworm. I’d take part three in a heartbeat.

3. Psychedelic Switch by Carly Rae Jepsen: Throughout her career, Canadian pop connoisseur Carly Rae Jepsen has captured love from all angles, rendered its scope of e•mo•tion in a slew of shades. “Psychedelic Switch” off her latest album The Loveliest Time shows her setting the disco ball to spin, covering the entire spectrum of light and color in one go. Over a pulsing, dance-floor ready beat, she swirls together metaphors with the precision of a gourmet mixologist, taking odds and ends of all things dreamy to capture the onset of a whirlwind romance. This love is like a psychedelic trip. It’s like lucid dreaming. It’s like meditating. It’s sunsets and paradise and coming home. It's the all-encompassing rush of euphoria that only pop music can capture. Jepsen finishes off the concoction with a dash of sighing violins, a twist of bass throbbing like a heartbeat, and a couple drops of reverb-washed ad-libs. Every one of Jepsen’s album cycles has the fan-favorite standout to add to her growing canon, and from the very first listen I knew “Psychedelic Switch” had cemented itself within her ranks of cult classics.

2. Not Strong Enough by boygenius: When Lucy Dacus, Phoebe Bridgers, and Julien Baker announced their first full-length project as the singer-songwriter supergroup boygenius, the record, (the record,) had the aura of something larger than life, a culmination of three generational talents celebrating their chemistry as collaborators. If there is any song on the album that captures this magic, it’s “Not Strong Enough,” a song which burst out of the gate sounding like an instant classic. “Not Strong Enough” chronicles the search for identity amidst uncertainty, the line “I don’t know why I am / The way I am” may just be its driving force. And boy does it drive, as the singers search for clues listening to The Cure while drag racing down canyon highways, skipping old exits, roving out in search of a meaning that may never materialize. This freedom and frustration culminate on the bridge, where Dacus’s mastery of vocal dynamics takes center stage. “Always an angel / Never a god,” she sings, starting off with a whiff of timidity before escalating to belt it up to the heavens, backed up with stunning harmonies from her peers. An angel may only ever be second-best, only ever identified through its relation to a higher power, but that just makes the journey towards self-actualization more transcendent.

1. Sepsis by Blondshell: For the longest time, I was determined to put any other song but “Sepsis” at the number one spot on this list. Initially, my pick from Blondshell’s self-titled debut was “Kiss City,” an amazing song, but sadly not the one I played over and over, screaming along because the lyrics hit too damn close to home. Much of Blondshell grapples with addiction, and on “Sepsis,” Sabrina Teitelbaum explores how the validation one gets through situational flings is one hell of a drug. Atop the ebb and flow of electric guitar, she interrogates the tendency to keep returning to a man she should be avoiding, a dick with a front-facing cap who’s bad in bed. Still, she keeps coming back, pissed therapist be damned, because “if I’m in love, nothing hurts.” Teitelbaum hones these observations through the metaphor of curing ailments and fast-acting sickness, “he’s going to start infecting my life / it’ll hit all at once like sepsis.” It’s a metaphor which exposes how self-destructive these habits are. “What if I’m down to let this kills me?” she howls at the apex of the bridge before, the sentence slurring into a frustrated scream as the entire song tumbles back into a cavalcade of fiery chords. If there’s anything “Sepsis” and my relationship to it proves, it’s that confronting these unhealthy habits is difficult, but essential. Sometimes, you’ve got to recognize that these coping mechanisms aren’t a “cure” and are only “making it worse.” It’s only then that true healing can begin.

Thank you so much to anyone who has interacted with this blog over the past year. I hope you all are having a happy holiday season!. My top 10 albums list should be out soon. See you then!

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