2023 required a lot of soundtracking to keep a level head. Sadness, stress, fear, joy, and nostalgia were all in play, and I found myself gravitating towards one-offs instead of complete albums, harping on a single track to fit a given mood, season, or location. From petulant teens to lyrical ‘90s hip-hop, these were the tracks I had on repeat this year.
Strangers - Kenya Grace
I’m not on TikTok because I’m one year shy of being a member of Gen Z, but I gather this song was a big deal over there this year. I heard it when the woman who did my manicure at some point in September used it in an Instagram video. It’s 2023, bitches. Addiction to emotional intensity is what this song reminds me of—of being 20 and going on first dates and being so desperate to fall in love that the strongest emotions I felt were, by far, the ones I had before actually meeting anyone. But mostly this song is just a vibe that seems to have struck a chord with basically everyone. A few weeks ago, I turned it on at my parents’ house and my mom, my dad, and my husband made separate comments of approval. Even the dogs looked pleasantly surprised.
Oppenheimer soundtrack - Ludwig Göransson
Not to spoil my forthcoming list of favorite movies of the year, but Oppenheimer really did it for me. One of the main things I came away from the theater thinking about was Ludwig Göransson’s soundtrack, a sweeping, orchestral pulse that carries the movie (and may even cover up some of its cracks). Oppenheimer is an emotive biopic, the closest thing to a first person narrative without an actual narrator (thank God). The music is a key player in conveying the interiority of the character. It turns an engineer and a history-shaking tragedy from numbers and words into a tapestry of sound that spins and teases through knots of questions and emotions.
Though an integral part to the movie, this soundtrack works on its own. Centered on the violin, an instrument that mirrors the human voice, it’s electrifying, disorienting, lyrical, and tender.
8. Audacity - Stormzy
Some artists seem like they were destined for stardom. Madonna. Beyoncé. Prince. I’d add Stormzy to that list as well. The British rapper is a force of nature, a performer who seems to have arisen fully formed as an artist, even though he keeps getting better and deepening his creativity. His second album, Heavy is the Head (released in 2019), was dismissed by some as a lengthy complaint from a millionaire about being famous, but I think that’s one of its greatest strengths. It feels honest. Stormzy isn’t rapping about his dominance or how rich he is. He’s rapping about how fame carries weight that is rarely comfortable. You might not be able to relate, but you can relate to his vulnerability, the way it feels like he’s working through his meteoric rise in real time. “Audacity” is the ultimate pump-up track. I always feel like I have jetpacks in my sneakers when I hear it. It makes me run fast and feel expansive.
7. Vampire - Olivia Rodrigo
I love a sarcastic teenager. I used to be one (and still am in many ways), and Olivia Rodrigo captures the anguish of going through so many firsts–first week with a driver’s license, first boyfriend, first breakup, etc. – with the precise balance of savagery and gossamer-thin sense-of-self that I remember so well. I love the way this song builds. I love its combination of pettiness, pain, and total badassery. This is an 18-year-old who is simultaneously heartbroken over a guy and completely clear-eyed about which of them came out of the breakup with a loss. She isn’t mourning a failed relationship, she’s kicking herself for being naive enough to fall for a shallow man-child who just wanted a piece of her fame. “Girls your age know better” she sings. Ouch.
6. 93 ‘Til Infinity - Souls of Mischief
Whenever I’m irritated, tired, unfocused, or uninspired, I turn this song on and can practically feel the cortisol draining from my body. Souls of Mischief is an underground West Coast hip-hop group from the ‘90s that is criminally underappreciated despite being highly influential, including to the likes of A Tribe Called Quest, J. Cole, and, bizarrely, Vampire Weekend. “93 ‘Til Infinity” is the title track off their debut album, and it’s gloriously laid back. Legend has it that the original version, written when the group was still in high school, was about their friendship, the title being a promise to be friends forever. 30 years later, they’re still making music together.
I love how this song washes over you in soothing waves with a beat that feels so subterranean it’s as if you’re hearing it from somewhere under your feet. At first blush, it sounds like an exercise in calming repetition, but keep an ear on the lyrics and you’ll be overwhelmed by the complexity and cleverness of it all. This track feels timeless. Three decades in and it’s fresh as a cool breeze on a summer day.
5. Meu Lugar - Arlindo Cruz
Someday soon, hopefully, I will be fluent in Portuguese and will be able to sing every word of this gorgeous song. It makes me feel like I’m on a beach on a summer night, watching the waves roll in by moonlight. Or dancing. It’s a cliché, I suppose, but that’s the effect of it: it purifies you until sincere sentimentality no longer feels like something you have to run from or deflect with sarcasm (just me?). The title translates to “My Place,” but obviously, it’s a little more nuanced and poetic than that. It makes me think of Brazil and the slow, steady way that I’m falling in love with it. I don’t like samba usually, but I do love this.
I Love You - Fontaines D.C.
The first time I played this song for my husband, full of the kind of visceral thrill that only a new music obsession can generate, he covered his ears and shouted “PLEASE TURN THIS OFF IT’S HORRIBLE.” So if you hate it, I apologize and won’t take it as personally as I did the first time. Maybe I shouldn’t have played it at full volume. Despite what the title might have you believe, this is not a love song, per se, but a political song about Ireland from a conflicted native son. It’s shouty and deeply felt, and I keep returning to it. I love the dexterity and intensity of the chorus. It feels like a barrage of rage that I regret to admit sometimes feels just about right.
3. The Wolves - Watchhouse
When my husband and I started thinking about which song to use for the first dance at our wedding this year, we were conflicted. Everything was either too slow, too fast, too country, too sappy, or not sappy enough. Then we heard this song that I’d heard years ago, and it just clicked. It will always hold a special place in my heart after our wedding, but I think it’s a gorgeously nostalgic song (from a folk duo who, as it happens, is married), no matter if you’ve listened to it once or a hundred times.
2. Born Under A Bad Sign - Richard Hawley
The only reason I know this song exists is because I heard it on the soundtrack of an extremely mediocre film. I loved it so much that I memorized a line of the lyrics so that I could Google it after the movie was over, and spent the rest of the film turning the words around in my mind like I was shaking the dice in a Boggle game. Perhaps that says more about the caliber of the movie (low) than it does about the song (super high, guys), but whenever I turn this song on, I play it at least four times in a row. If you’re a fan of The Smiths or Elbow, you’ll probably like it. I love the languid nihilism that somehow feels like self-care. It speaks to me.
1. I Do This All The Time - Self Esteem
I’m just going to come out and say it: Rebecca Lucy Taylor (otherwise known as Self Esteem) is a fucking beast (in a good way). In this track, she uses a similar kind of husky sing/talk style (called sprechstimme for all you nerds out there) as Dessa and Kae Tempest, but it’s her combination of ferocity, fragility, existentialism, and humor that make this track a double punch to the gut that will make your heart soar. It (literally) brings me to the verge of tears and laughter every time I hear it. It’s angsty and tender, stream-of-consciousness and poetry. It’s an anthem and a mantra.
Be very careful out there/ Stop trying to have so many friends/ Don’t be intimidated by all the babies they have/ Don’t be embarrassed that all you’ve had is fun.
The first time I heard it, I was in the car, having just seen Barbie for the first time, and the juxtaposition of female reflection–relentlessly positive and shiny in the case of Barbie and spiky, halting, and unquantifiably more resonant in the case of Self Esteem–I felt overwhelmed with gratitude to be here in the world, right now. If you are not a millennial/Gen Z woman, you might not find it quite as staggering, but I [Listen To] This All The Time. It’s my number one. Hands down.