Electronic Albums That Sound Better After Midnight looks at how music and entertainment become more rewarding when you listen for detail instead of just chasing the newest release.
For late-night electronic albums, the useful question is not whether something is fashionable this week, but whether it holds attention after the first impression.
The best notes often come from pacing, texture, arrangement, and the way a performance changes a room. Those details help a playlist, album, or scene stay memorable.
Look for albums with patient builds rather than constant drops.
Headphones reveal small details that speakers can blur.
A good late-night record should feel immersive without becoming background noise.
Use this as a starting point, then return to the track, record, or score in a different setting. Good music usually gives back more when the second listen is slower.
How exactly does the art of music-making change when it becomes a small part of a much larger video game or feature film? And what makes the soundtrack of Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse so remarkable? Alex Walden is on hand to reveal all.
One of the things that I love most about music is that it’s entirely subjective. There’s no genetic influence on what type of music you enjoy or what you look for in music; it’s completely down to just what your brain likes and that’s what makes it so unique. There’s complete freedom over what songs you like, what you like about music and what music you prefer to listen to while experiencing specific emotions. Take me for example: I can go from Kanye West to Nirvana straight to Jorja Smith like its nothing. Music’s ability to merge its way into any and every situation in life is one of the best things about it. So, what happens when entertainment corporations begin to realise this? The simple answer is that you get soundtracks, a collection of songs which feature sometimes extensive lists of artists from the same genre who are recruited to essentially convey to you how a project should sound. If done well, these soundtracks can become a great way to further indulge yourself into a corporation’s project. But what makes a soundtrack so good? By looking at some of my favourite examples I hope to give you an insight into exactly that.
DOOM and the ability to immerse To this day, the pair of unbranded plain grey headphones that my father bought for me as a Christmas gift years ago remain one of my essential items. The main reason for this is that they come with what was at the time a new feature known Active Noise Cancelling. Although I found this feature amazing when I first experienced it, it made me appreciate the idea of having music as background noise more. For example, as I’m typing this right now on my busted AirPods at about 60% volume in my silent room I can still hear the tapping sound of my fingers on my laptop, which is helping me from becoming completely focused on this Slum Village album, whilst helping me focus on what I’m writing. The addition of music is sometimes the crucial piece needed to allow a consumer to become immersed in entertainment and Mick Gordan’s DOOM soundtrack is a prime example of this.
For those who don’t know, DOOM is a video game series which has been going since 1993. What started out as a simple arcade-style shooter has gradually progressed in recent years to become one of the most intense games ever released. You can only imagine how intense a game set on Mars with your primary objective to kill everything in sight in increasingly gruesome ways could be. Filled with fast paced action and highly detailed combat sequences, this game series has earned its place as one of my favourite game series to play. The game itself may be great, but the soundtrack is the driving force as to why this game is so special.
DOOM‘s original release dates back to 1993
As you tread through the game’s map you are given a subtle warning as a stream of white noise and bass tones hit you. In addition these sounds have been completely transformed by an extensive list of phasers, pedals, distortion boxes, reverb effects and many more. These short stretches of music are known as stems and are designed to give you an uneasy feeling of dread. It forces your brain to tell you “I don’t know what’s up ahead but whatever it is, it’s going to a be a lot”. As soon as the combat starts, the game’s techno-based sounds are completely thrown out the window, now replaced with no-nonsense metal. The addition of heavy metal music which accompanies a swarm of demons as they head directly towards you forces your body to produce a surge of adrenaline as you try fight your way through the horde.
Mick Gordon’s idea of combining metal with electronic sounding drums and heavily altered stems is not only genius, but also extremely difficult to pull off. Metal music has always been a violent badass and extremely niche category of music. It’s aggressive, fast paced and resembles everything about this new generation of music that your grandma hates. However, the fact that metal is so niche that can be its downfall sometimes. There are occasions metal fans don’t like when their genre is mixed in with more cliché genres such as techno. They feel as if their music is being watered down or that the people who make it are just doing it for money, not just the love of music. Yet Mick Gordon is able to use just the right amount of techno influence in extremely heavy basslines to add that extra kick that makes the music hit that bit more. I mean seriously – the drums and guitar riffs in this game are completely unmatched. It sounds something far beyond the capabilities of some video game composer from Australia.
Sometimes I need to pause DOOM… either I need to turn my volume down or I feel way out of my depth.
There have been times when I’ve had to pause the game while in the middle of a combat scene. This is always because of two reasons: either I need to turn my volume down because I can feel a headache coming on, or I just feel way out of my depth and need a minute to gather myself before I jump back into the game. That’s why I love DOOM so much. I’ve never played a game where I feel as if I’m being mentally dragged right out of my comfort zone, pushing myself to my limits as I try to comprehend everything around me while also trying to stay alive. I assure you that without a soundtrack, this game wouldn’t feel the same. (No seriously, I’ve actually played the whole game on mute while I watch a show in the background). But with Mick Gordon’s remarkable background music blasting through my ears, my mind constantly bounces back and forth between the thoughts of how amazing a song is and how I’m currently flirting with death in my game right now. It’s as if the game is able to control my brain, messing with me so that I’ll find it all the more challenging to complete.
Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse and the construction of fictional universes
It’s time I let you into my lives a little more now. I have to admit I’m practically in love with the Post Malone and Swae Lee song Sunflower. Ask anyone who knows me and they’ll tell you I have a borderline unhealthy addiction to this song. At the time of writing this, Sunflower is my most played song on Spotify since I created my account (that must say something considering that this I discovered this song 5 years after I first created my account). If I’m honest, I could easily write a whole dissertation level paper about how the movie, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, is a perfect movie but for now I’m going to attempt to restrain myself and try to only talk about why the soundtrack is able to help construct a fictional universe for the consumer.
Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse received widespread critical acclaim in 2018 for its creative storytelling and hit-filled soundtrack
Spider-Man Into the Spider-Verse is, in my opinion, the best spider-man film made to date. The story follows Black and Puerto-Rican teen Miles Morales as he begins his journey at the Brooklyn Visions Academy. It’s clear from the beginning that Miles isn’t a huge fan of the academy and feels pressured to live up to his father’s expectations. However, while hanging out with his Uncle Aaron, Miles’ entire world gets completely flipped upside down when he gets bitten by a radioactive spider. I’ll spare you my synopsis of this film, but seriously there’s practically and endless list as to why I love this movie so much. One of the key things I always notice is that like most teens in this day and age, Miles gets anxious and things can feel mentally out of his control very quickly. It’s through music that Miles is able to calm himself down, which I know is a very common practice for people who struggle with anxiety, so we naturally relate to him because we see he’s just a kid underneath the mask.
One of the best decisions Marvel made was constructing this specific movie soundtrack. We feel as if we’re being brought into Miles’ world. With tracks like What’s Up Danger and Start a Riot we get the textbook high energy songs that let our minds wander and draw up our own Spidey-themed scenarios in our heads, but with tracks such as Sunflower, Invincible and Scared of the Dark we’re brought into Miles’ personal life. Behind all the vigilante stunts, he’s really just a kid from Brooklyn. It’s through this that were able to build a connection with Miles and we feel as if we actually know him – after all, we know his music taste, his character traits, and his biggest secret.
It’s through the soundtrack that we’re about to build a connection with Miles. We see he’s just a kid underneath his mask.
One of the most common issues with movie soundtracks today is that, although companies tend to recruit artists who are in the mainstream scene at the time, it often sounds forced and cringey because let’s face it, the number one rule with any creative passion is that it shouldn’t be forced because everyone can tell when it’s not from the heart. I’ve even read up on cases where artists have been paid to name drop specific brands in their lyrics. People can tell if you have a genuine passion for something or if you’re just doing it for clout. But with Into the Spider-Verse’s soundtrack, Marvel managed to group together artists who fit quite well in the hip hop and pop rap categories, so for them this was just another song for them to write. In particular, you can hear how good the genuine chemistry is between Post and Swae throughout the song Sunflower. It’s probably why Post decided to take Swae Lee on tour with him after the songs release.
mid90s and cultural representation
If you would’ve told me when I was a kid that hip hop would become one of the most popular genres of music in the future, including the number one in America at one point, I would’ve thought that you were talking complete nonsense and I’d have fair reason to. Up until 2016, hip hop was seen as the outcast genre. It was viewed as the genre which your kids should avoid and hip hop artists were deemed to have no valid musical talent. One of my other favourite hobbies as a kid which also got a bad rep was skateboarding. I grew up in the era of skateboarding where the days of kids watching Tony Hawk blast off crazy huge ramps and go around pools were starting to fade as street skating grew in popularity. This obviously led to skateboarding being viewed as a reckless sport which some people even saw as a crime. The representations of these two interests of mine are why they used to be home to quite niche communities, which is the same reason they ended up getting represented so poorly in mainstream media, because the people who write about it often don’t know anything about it. Despite this, there is the odd moment where it’s done well and mid90s is a prime example of how it’s done perfectly.
Jonah Hill gave all the kids on set real iPods to listen to 90s hip hop on. As someone who skates, this is a major victory.
The story of mid90s is relatively simple. It follows 13-year-old Stevie (Sunny Suljic) as he navigates his way through summer accompanied by a troubling home life and a group of friends he meets at the local skate shop. What I like most about this film is that it accurately represents the skate community by showing all skaters are different; hell, some of the skaters in this film are in their teens while some are just kids. It’s not just some attempt at seeming edgy for a money grab. In fact, all the people who play skaters in mid90s were skating way before they were acting. You can find them on the Illegal Civ YouTube channel which is what makes this movie so comforting to watch you feel as if you’re just watching some kids skate. It doesn’t feel like you’re watching some scripted attempt at making skating seem rebellious and edgy.
mid90s marked Jonah Hill’s directorial debut in 2018
One of the best aspects of this film is that it features music from the time that the film is set. As a matter of fact, director Jonah Hill gave all of the kids on set iPods which were all filled with songs that he used to listen to growing up in the 90s. Many of the songs on these iPods were from artists such as Pixies, Wu Tang Clan and The Pharcyde who were also featured during the movie. Now, to the average viewer this would just be seen as a method to help add to a scene, but as someone who skates this is a major victory. I remember hearing 93 ’til Infinity by Souls of Mischief and Put It On by Big L and feeling surprised that a movie about skating was using songs that actual skaters listen to. My friends and I actually listen to some of these songs on the regular and I’m hearing it in this movie? It felt weird at first but then it felt great realising that the director, who had decided to bring quite a small sport to the big screen, had actually nailed the portrayal of skaters and had taken the steps necessary to do so. Not only that, but thanks to mid90s I was able to discover loads of new artists and songs. After watching the movie, one of the first things I did was find a Spotify playlist with all the songs featured in the movie. I was blessed with Spotfiy’s own official mid90s playlist which even included small anecdotes from Jonah Hill himself. It was through this playlist that I was able to discover golden era hip hop and how as well as good music, it doubled as an awesome soundtrack for skating. I remember trying to skate around my neighbourhood while listening artists such as Raekwon, Nirvana and, now one of my favourite groups of all time, A Tribe Called Quest. It was through times like this that I was able to explore skate culture which has become one of the best parts about my daily life. Of course, there were other instances as to why I had discovered skating, like the famous Tony Hawk games, but I feel as if it weren’t for mid90s I wouldn’t have been able to link together this fun hobby with one of my favourite things in the world, music, which has led to skating and skate culture becoming a huge part of me.
So there you have it: three examples of how a soundtrack can become a valuable feature of any project. I feel like often soundtracks can get overlooked by some who just view it as an accessory and I will admit that sometimes it can fit that description if poorly constructed, yet I hope that these three examples of iconic soundtracks have helped you realise that soundtracks can often be underrated. Maybe it’s just my habit of having a particular interest the little things and small details talking for me, who knows? What I do know though, is that next time you go watch a movie or play a video game or even go somewhere with your friends or family and you feel some extreme emotion whether it be joy, sadness, anger, or any other variation of mood, pay attention to what music is playing in the background or the songs that you play that day. You might make some amazing memories which you can then attach to a specific song. That is what makes soundtracks so amazing.
The most interesting listening right now is happening between categories. Indie records are borrowing the patience of ambient music, jazz players are leaning into club rhythms, and electronic producers are making tracks that feel more handmade than programmed. That middle ground is where a lot of the best music lives.
Indie music is getting quieter and stranger
The strongest indie songs at the moment are not always the biggest ones. Many of them work through restraint: dry drums, close vocals, guitars that sound like they were recorded in a room rather than polished into glass. That intimacy gives the songs character.
Jazz keeps moving outward
Modern jazz continues to thrive when it treats tradition as a starting point rather than a museum. Groove-led playing, electronic textures and shorter song forms can all sit comfortably beside improvisation. The result is music that feels serious without becoming sealed off from everyday listening.
Electronic music is embracing warmth
There is still plenty of maximal electronic music around, but the warmer end of the spectrum feels especially rewarding. Dusty percussion, imperfect synth tones and patient arrangements are giving producers more emotional range than the cleanest possible mix ever could.
For Music Boats, that combination feels like the right direction: thoughtful listening without losing energy, and genre coverage that follows the sound rather than the label.
The best electronic albums rarely explain themselves in the first ten minutes. They invite you in with texture, rhythm and movement, then reveal their real shape after the second or third listen. That is part of what keeps the format alive in a playlist-heavy era: a single track can introduce a mood, but an album lets that mood develop, fracture and return with more meaning.
Why patience matters
Electronic music is often judged by immediate impact. A bass line either hits or it does not; a hook either sticks or disappears. Albums ask for a slightly different kind of attention. The opener sets the palette, the middle stretch tests how far the artist can bend it, and the closing track usually tells you whether the idea had enough emotional weight to justify the journey.
That is especially true for records built around minimal percussion, ambient passages or slow harmonic shifts. On first listen, they can seem restrained. On repeat listens, small choices become central: a synth line that returns in a lower register, a kick pattern that disappears for a whole verse, a vocal sample that stops sounding decorative and starts sounding like the point of the song.
The album as a room
A strong electronic album feels less like a queue of tracks and more like a room you learn how to move through. The best ones create contrast without breaking their own atmosphere. They know when to make the floor shake, but also when to let the air thin out. That sense of space is what separates a good release from a collection of useful tracks.
For listeners, the reward is simple: give the record time before deciding what it is. Let the quieter transitions do their work. Let the repeated motifs become familiar. If the album is built well, the second listen will not simply confirm the first. It will change it.
Bass Albums That Make a Workout Feel Cinematic looks at how music and entertainment become more rewarding when you listen for detail instead of just chasing the newest release.
For bass albums and movement, the useful question is not whether something is fashionable this week, but whether it holds attention after the first impression.
The best notes often come from pacing, texture, arrangement, and the way a performance changes a room. Those details help a playlist, album, or scene stay memorable.
Choose records with momentum, not just volume.
Look for low-end detail that stays clean on headphones.
A strong album arc can make a routine feel less repetitive.
Use this as a starting point, then return to the track, record, or score in a different setting. Good music usually gives back more when the second listen is slower.
After years of virtual band meetings and drumming up buzz online, Boston band Couch look set to take over the world with a debut album of polished, meticulously crafted pop bops and a sprawling 36-date tour. They spoke to Undertone about launching a band during the Covid years, their vulnerable new single, and the tricky task of making music with seven songwriters.
The pandemic did strange things to the music industry. On the one hand, we saw a fresh wave of what was giddily termed the 2020s’ “disco revival”. Jessie Ware, Róisín Murphy, Lady Gaga and Dua Lipa all released unequivocally dancefloor-primed records that perversely chimed with listeners trapped indoors all day, pining for a hedonistic escape and a return to the wonderfully unhygienic surroundings of a cramped and sweaty nightclub. On the other hand, the pandemic was a prompt for many artists to return to their roots with homespun, introspective album recorded with minimal equipment from home studios. Paul McCartney’s stripped-back McCartney III had the man himself play all the instruments, Charli xcx was in a reflective mood on how i’m feeling now, and Adrienne Lenker’s understated magnum opus songs was entirely recorded in a cabin in rural Massachusetts. As with seemingly many other aspects of society, such a radical change was only temporary: a few years after releasing her own folksy and minimalist albums folklore and evermore to critical acclaim, Taylor Swift is firmly back to her stadium-filling former self.
Couch, meanwhile, were biding their time, patiently plotting their route to stardom. Purveyors of soulful pop in the vein of Vulfpeck, Sammy Rae and Lake Street Dive, the seven-strong group specialise exactly the kind of free-spirited disco and funk tunes that topped the charts in 2020. For them, however, the pandemic (as well as attending various colleges across the States) meant it was three years of intermittent band meetups and FaceTime calls before the Bostonians finally took to the stage together for the first time.
That may sound tedious, but it was a blessing in disguise, keyboardist Danny Silverston tells me. “Once Covid hit, a lot of bands were like ‘man, what do we do now?’, but for us it was like ‘we actually kind of know what to do now’. We got to spend some really quality time together, and it set us up pretty effectively for our first ever tour, which was pretty much like a slam dunk.” Guitarist Zach Blankstein, who doubles as the band’s manager, agrees. “We had that remote incubation period where we got to share our music with people and start to feel some external excitement. Getting everyone [in the band] to make themselves available to go tour eventually was easy because we were all excited to go do it and felt like was a long time coming by that point.”
Silverston and Blankstein, as well as bassist Will Griffin, speak to me partway through a 16 hour drive back to Boston from Asheville, North Carolina, where they’ve just performed a charity show. The band may still be relatively new, but they’re no strangers to this sort of long-distance touring, and their first trip to the UK – an impressively full-throttle show which Undertone was lucky enough to catch – was over two years ago. For Griffin, touring and songwriting go hand in hand. “Something that feels best for us in the rehearsal space might feel totally different on stage. It opens up different opportunities to explore variations of arrangement styles and grooves.” In fact, Couch’s huge upcoming tour, which starts in November, was booked well before the new record was even fully written. Other times, though, it’s the finished song that comes first. “But they’re definitely very connected processes, no matter which order they happen,” Blankstein adds.
Perhaps it’s a sign of Couch’s easy-going, fluid approach to songwriting that, as Blankstein admits, the new album Big Talk isn’t even finished by the time of our interview. The band’s exceptional attention to detail, in particular with their knotty horn sections (see: Still Feeling You‘s wonderfully wiggly breakdown), no doubt slows down the writing process, but their emphasis on collaboration from all band members also partly explains the six year gap between their debut single and Big Talk. Whilst singer Tema Siegal takes the lead lyrically, musically the band takes a more democratic approach, taking turns as bandleaders and voting on creative choices. “On the one hand, I imagine it kind of slows us down,” Silverston says, “but it also means that the final product will really be Couch‘s debut, not like one or three individuals. It really feels like every single person in the band is infusing their tastes and sensibilities into the album.” It’s a key asset, Silverston says, that his bandmates don’t have identical, or even similar, musical tastes. “Jared [Gozinsky, drummer], for example, likes a lot of big band jazz stuff, which gets mixed with a few other band members who like more rock, heavy music. I think that difference is actually what makes songwriting so exciting, and where our growth can be seen the most.”
The first taste of this growth comes via the band’s slick new single What Were You Thinking, which winningly pits a tale of a romantic power imbalance against a sumptuous disco bass line and a silky smooth piano breakdown. The vulnerable lyrics and anthemic melodies make for an interesting contrast, I note to Blankstein. “Jeff [Pinsker-Smith, trumpeter] brought the demo that we all really liked and when Tema heard it she felt like it called for something a little angry,” he explains. “She had this story in her mind for a while […] and the energy she was feeling from the instrumental felt compatible with that story”. The result is a pop song that sounds simultaneously embittered and euphoric, matching Seigel’s snappy takedowns (“What were you thinking / Handling a heart of 20 years like that?”) with a sense that she’s emerged from the relationship with her sense of joy and self-confidence ultimately undimmed.
What Were You Thinking promises to be the highlight of Couch’s latest live offering, which will tour 36 cities across 11 countries from November to March. Fans can expect “most of, if not the entire new catalogue of music, plus some new arrangements of the older tunes that we’re really excited about,” says Blankstein. If it’s anything like their debut UK show in 2023 – which produced an electric atmosphere in Manchester’s Band on the Wall – it should be an memorable night of jubilant funk-pop singalongs. “We’re putting together a proper show to pay tribute to this album,” he concludes and, given the time and energy the whole band have put into Big Talk, there’s no doubt there’ll be plenty to love.
The Liverpool band’s drive for creative risk-taking is admirable, but the experiment doesn’t pay off on this disappointingly messy and scant third album.
Depending on your perspective, Courting’s new album, Lust for Life, Or: ‘How to Thread the Needle and Come Out the Other Side To Tell the Story’ was always destined to be genius or disastrous. Frontman Sean Murphy-O’Neill was clear about his ambitions in his interviews before release day: there would be a ‘mirrored’ track list (each song has a musically-related pair), a promise of multiple lyrical ‘Easter eggs’, an overriding theme of duality exemplified by the two figures on the monochrome cover art and that exhausting two-part album title.
In a rock landscape of unadventurous yet ever successful 2000s indie revivalists – I’m looking at you, Circa Waves – it’s hard to fault Murphy-O’Neill’s drive to deliver a high-art modern rock classic. Last year’s New Last Name came with a grand love narrative, but really it was all about a few stellar singles, not least Flex, which brilliantly conveyed the blissful ignorance of youth, sounding a bit like Carly Rae Jepsen if she made rock for teen boys rather than pop for teen girls.
It’s a disappointment, then, that the new album trailered as the culmination of Courting’s ‘evolution’ thus far weighs in at a meagre 25 minutes and eight tracks, two of which are instrumental tone-setters. O’Neill has talked about the band’s newfound search for conciseness but on this, their third album in a little over three years, the end result just feels rushed and underwritten. The lyrical cross-references and much-touted “hidden depths” are no doubt bountiful, but it’s a shame that Courting couldn’t spend more time fleshing out their numerous intriguing ideas.
The ballads are few and far between on Maggie Rogers’ brilliantly written third record, which delivers one singalong belter after another. Don’t Forget Me doesn’t reinvent the singer-songwriter wheel, but what a fabulous wheel this particular album is.
The origin story of Maryland singer-songwriter Maggie Rogers’ career is the stuff of pop legend these days. Rogers was 22 when she took a music production masterclass at the New York University Tisch School of the Arts, which involved the no doubt intimidating task of playing an original song to one of the most famous producers in the world, Pharrell Williams. The song, Alaska, floored Williams, who’s first response was “I have zero, zero notes for that.” The resulting clip went viral (a remarkable watch still available on YouTube), and the rest is history.
History, because Williams really had discovered a US megastar in that small New York recording studio. Just four years later, Rogers would be at the Grammys. This year, that shy music student has a 30-date US stadium tour in her diary, followed by a tour of Europe in support of a little-known British band by the name of Coldplay. Whilst Alaska remains one of her biggest hits, Rogers’ music these days sounds much removed from the crowd pleasing yet safe pop confections of her 2019 debut, Heard It In a Past Life. Don’t Forget Me feels like the completion of the gradual artistic progression that Rogers launched on that fateful day back in 2016, developing from cautious experimentalism to self-assured pop and country hits. That’s not to say Don’t Forget Me tries anything especially distinctive or unusual, but the bulletproof vocal performances and a string of anthemic choruses don’t put a foot wrong.
Spacey, mature opener It Was Coming All Along is an effective tone-setter, but it’s the moody follow up where the instant classics begin: Drunk is a thrilling ride with bluesy rock guitars and a relentless chorus that recalls Fleetwood Mac at their most dynamic. Best of all is the extraordinary vocal performance, which rattles along with so much pent-up rage there are moments when Rogers’ sounds on the verge of losing control completely. And yet, like a cowboy clinging onto to a raging bull’s leash, she just about lands every adventurous adlib, and the result is one of the most compelling pop-rock recordings of the year so far.
Drunk is just the beginning of Don’t Forget Me’s delights. Deeply lovely So Sickof Dreaming is graced with sparkling layered guitars and a stunningly harmonised chorus that paints Rogers’ lovesickness with a beautiful elongated sigh of a melody. The spoken recount of a failed first date during the bridge may strike some as corny, but the payoff is perfectly executed final chorus that epitomises Rogers’ general fatigue whilst hinting at an underlying hope. The Kill maintains that appealing concoction of pain with a dash of optimism, the latter provided by an winning mellotron hook and galloping groove. It’s a straightforward and arguably unambitious track – a smattering of horns could have been a more daring creative decision to take The Kill even further from bland country music charts fodder – but it’s hard to knock the sheer quality of Rogers’ songcraft.
There are only two ballads in the ten tracks – I Still Do and All the Same – both of which are competently written and necessary moments of quiet reflection, but it’s the stadium-ready up-tempo numbers that will have fans returning to Don’t Forget Me over and over again. Earwormy On & On & On, for instance, pairs a wobbling synth bass with snappy funk drums, a hark back to noughties which might have outdated had Rogers’ hooks not been so punchy. Most of Don’t Forget Me’s choruses seem tailormade for road trip singalongs, particularly the anthemic Never Going Home, as well as the poignant lead single and title track, which closes the album with a pained demand to be remembered. If she’s in any way trying to send a message to listeners at the end of her album, Rogers need not worry – no listener is forgetting this excellent record in a hurry.
From chart-toppers to hidden gems, it’s time to reminisce about the most remarkable musical moments of 2023, as we countdown the year’s greatest hits. The rules are the same as usual: only one song per artist and no covers. Remember this is primarily a personal reflection on my own music habits this year; I don’t pretend to have listened to enough music to declare the best works of all popular music this year, and you might spot some songs that were released before 2023. This list is about sharing the best songs that I happen to have discovered in the last twelve months.
40.I See Myself
by Geese from 3D Country
It’s been a breakout year for lovable New York indie band Geese, whose unhinged, creative post-punk creations suit their throwaway nickname. Beyond the playful vocals, there’s a deep sense of groove to I See Myself’s half time strut, which oozes with tambourine and cowbell yet never feels cluttered – every last dink has earned its place in this mix. As for the hook, good luck forgetting the titular refrain – belted every time – any time this side of next Christmas.
Also try: Cowboy Nudes
39.impossible
by Wasia Project from how can i pretend?
Creative pop siblings Wasia Project look set for big things in 2024. The Guildhall students already have an impressive collection of stylish, instrument-driven pop under their name (plus an acting credit in hit Netflix series Heartstopper), and impossible is just one example of an intelligently written composition rich in potential. It lifts off in the final third, piano throbbing and Olivia Hardy’s vocals soaring skywards. Keep a close eye on them.
Also try: Petals on the Moon
38.Topless Mother
by Nadine Shah from Filthy Underneath
Nadine Shah delivers her chorus in Topless Mother with ample venom, hissing out every last syllable, backed by tribal drums and sudden deluges of cymbals. It’s just as well, because the words themselves are rhyming gibberish: “Sinatra, Viagra, iguana / Sharia, Diana, samosa” comprise the first two lines. It’s a startling approach that serves as a middle finger to her critics and a steadfast refusal to fit into the mould assigned to her. It’s a vicious reminder never to get on the wrong side of a skilled songwriter.
Also try: Twenty Things
37.HOT TO GO!
by Chappell Roan from The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess
It’s been a breakout year for many artists, but few have had a trajectory as stratospheric as Chappell Roan’s, who started the year as one of thousands of aspiring young American pop stars and finished it with a global hit album and a support slot on tour with no less than the undisputed queen of young American pop stars, Olivia Rodrigo. HOT TO GO!, and its accompanying dance routine, accounts for some of Roan’s phenomenal success, typifying her bratty, entertaining brand of pop. Roan’s lyrics are hardly Shakespeare (she’s certainly not above spelling out the song title cheerleader-style), but the silly chorus comprises one of the most intractable earworms of the year – hear it once and it will haunt your dreams (and perhaps nightmares) for sixth months hence. Add some bouncy synths and a half-rapped pre chorus that veers precariously close to cheesiness and the result is a career-launching banger free of pomposity and absolutely stuffed with life-affirming glee.
Also try: Femininomenon
36.Then It All Goes Away
by Dayglow from People In Motion
Then It All Goes Away is one of the most satisfying examples of sunny indie pop that Texan showman Dayglow has come out with so far. Bright piano riffs and a very healthy contingent of cowbell make for easy listening, and spacey guitars hold gimmers of 80s pop at its dreamiest. A perfect soundtrack to your next daydream of summer.
Also try: Deep End
35.Glory
by Gabriels from Angels & Queens
Soul trio Gabriels were one of the standout performers of Glastonbury 2023, with Glory the peak of a heart-warming set. Jacob Lusk’s silky voice is as charismatic as ever, but its the driving percussion and insistent strings that make this foot-tapper such an exciting listen.
Also try: Love and Hate in a Different Time
34.Who Let Him In
by Obongjayar
What’s refreshing about Who Let Him In is not the strength of Obongjayar’s brags (being able to string together a few rhymes about how great and unique you are is more or less a prerequisite for today’s rappers) but in how justified they are. “I fear no one / Walk in the room like the owner,” he tells us, and by the sounds of this beat – a bubbling Afrobeat groove bursting at the seams with energy – he seems utterly believable. Obongjayar doesn’t just want to be a good artist, he wants to “take over”, and with tracks as inspired as this one, that’s exactly what he seems destined to do.
Also try: Just Cool
33.Dans Le Noir
by Free Love from Inside
Glasgow synth duo sound anything but Scottish on this largely French-language funk-pop belter, but the language gives this sticky dance number a flirtatious edge, regardless of the meaning of Suzi Cook’s words. An almost comically overblown synth bass is the main attraction, though, and the instrument is rightly given free reign to wobble around its rich upper range in an extended instrument section in the middle of this song. Cook’s vocal hook eventually returns us to solid ground in a song full of left turns from a duo quite happy to keep their audiences guessing.
Also try: Open The Door
32.Who the Hell Is Edgar?
by TEYA & SALENA
Sweden may have won it with a vaguely uninspiring pop song, but it was Austria that came to Eurovision 2023 with arguably best song of this year’s contest. Who the Hell Is Edgar? strikes the fine balance between loveable joke song and earnest work of art with a clear message in a contest where songs usually fall heavily into one of the two categories (think hard rock fancy dress monsters for the former, hymn for the deported Crimean Tatars for the latter). TEYA and SALENA’s playful chemistry is a joy as they summon the ghost of 19th century poet Edgar Allen Poe and the various threads of the song are knotted together cleverly after the bridge. Granted, TEYA and SALENA’s performance on the night left something to be desired and a slot as show opener can’t have helped votes, but in more favourable conditions Who the Hell Is Edgar? would have made for a worthy Eurovision champion.
Also try: Ukraine’s excellent entry, Heart of Steel by TVORCHI
31.(You) On My Arm
by Leith Ross from To Learn
Leith Ross hit viral success in 2023 with the acoustic guitar track We’ll Never Have Sex, the sort of throwaway almost-song (it’s only 100 seconds long) that would never be a hit before the age of streaming. (You) On My Arm stands out as both the only uptempo track and best tune on their debut album, a pleasingly understated indie rock number that features the ingenious line “I’d be better armed if you agreed to take it.” The songwriting fundamentals are handled so competently here it’s a relief that Ross doesn’t unnecessarily complicate things with a flashy backing, instead sticking to a muted bass tone and spacey guitars that complement her introspective vocals. It’s no wonder her humble approach to music making has resonated with millions around the world.
Also try: Monogamy
30.Love for the Last Time
by Leadley from LIGHT POP
There’s an unreality that goes beyond the usual popstar Photoshopping in West Midlands singer Leadley’s album covers, presenting her as a sort of celestial beauty of impossible perfection. Her songs have a similar immaculate quality, especially Love For The Last Time, a note perfect pop song blessed with crystalline production. A divine sax riff recalls Carly Rae Jepsen at her five star best, and enjoyably schmaltzy lyrics like “Hold me like it isn’t goodbye / Touch me like you’re never really leaving,” roll off the tongue like honey on freshly baked pancakes. The result is almost too sweet.
Also try: Love Me Like That
29.Hell
by Sleater-Kinney from Little Rope
“Hell is desperation / And a young man with a gun,” Corin Tucker informs us ominously in the minimalist start to Hell, her portentous lyrics the only sign of the melee of sound to come. It’s a contrast that works deliciously well when the chorus does eventually hit, a screaming electric guitar loud and salient in the mix like the whirr of a dentist’s drill. It’s one of the grungiest choruses I’ve heard all year and I can’t get enough of it.
Also try: Say It Like You Mean It
28.Dancer
by IDLES feat. LCD Soundsystem from TANGK
Dance and disco music may not be an obvious match for IDLES, Bristol’s ever popular post punk group helmed by the fearsome Joe Talbot, a man who seems to grow more grizzled and bear-like with every passing year. But, right from the opening swoop of disco strings, this collaboration with dance music luminary LCD Soundsystem comes off surprisingly well. Industrial guitar riffs open up for a pummeling chorus, Talbot’s descriptions of dancing “cheek to cheek” sounding uneasily violent rather than swooning and romantic. Their new album TANGK, due in February, promises to be something special.
Also try: Grace
27.Poor Madeline
by Daffo from Pest
Daffo came out with one of the finest indie rock EPs of the year with October’s Pest, which features a number of soulful compositions that have both a depth of emotion and proficiency of songwriting that many of her peers lack. Poor Madeline is just one of several potential picks for this list and shows Daffo’s typical urge to strive above and beyond the usual song structures associated with the genre.
Also try: Seed, Good God and Collector are all Poor Madeline‘s equal
26.New York Transit Queen
by Corinne Bailey Rae from Black Rainbows
Corinne Bailey Rae’s September album Black Rainbows marked one of the most astounding artistic pivots of the year. For the woman behind the smooth, sunshine-filled R&B hit Put Your Records On, lead single New York Transit Queen could hardly have been more shocking. There are no tinkling triangles or cheery Hammond organs to be found here – this track is an unreservedly grungy pastiche of 60s rock and roll in all its swaggering glory. The opening guitar riff, which has all the blunt-force simplicity of You Really Got Me, hits like a truck and Rae’s vocals are strikingly distorted and unhinged. What’s most remarkable is that the track doesn’t end up sounding like a cover or parody. The grit of the blaring instrumentation here feels organic, the drums hammered out with what feels like genuine fury. Appropriately, a vodka shot of a song like this comes and goes in a frantic 109 seconds. It’s just as well – even at this length, New York Transit Queen has a tendency to leave you breathless.
Also try: He Will Follow You With His Eyes is a remarkable, completely different sonic experience.
25.Theatre
by Etta Marcus from The Death of Summer & Other Promises
Etta Marcus made the list two years ago with a melancholy, nuanced ballad with Matt Maltese, and Theatre starts in much the same vein before revealing itself to be a much different beast. Far from a sweetly romantic tune about moving to America, Theatre is a rock rager about crushing, desperate loneliness, with the volume turned up to the max. It’s propelled by a gut-wrenching set of lyrics in which Marcus plays a twisted version of herself hell bent on love, demanding someone, anyone, to “call me baby / let me die on the stage / let the orchestra play”. The melodrama is matched by a barnstorming vocal performance, Marcus almost audibly dropping to her knees in anguish. Like an enthralling stage performance, this song is impossible to ignore.
Also try: Snowflake Suzy
24.Phone Me
by CMAT from Crazymad, For Me
2023 was a year in which Irish singer-songwriter CMAT finally fulfilled her potential with a rewarding second album of charismatic indie rock that married inventive songwriting with thinly veiled self-mocking humour. Phone Me was the catchiest of the bunch, with a cracking bass line and a chorus that leaned into the strengths of CMAT’s formidable vocals. “Does my affliction turn you on?” she belts with trademark matter-of-factness. It’s this fearlessness that has seen CMAT’s career flourish this year, and there’s a sense that 2024 will likely be more of the same.
Also try: California and Have Fun! are similarly great tracks that bookend CMAT’s new album, while Rent is the mid-album showpiece.
23.5-Watt Rock
by Theo Katzman from Be the Wheel
Theo Katzman’s fourth studio album Be The Wheel was not short on earnestly profound reflections on a pandemic spent largely alone in the wilderness (the eloquent title track very nearly made it on to this list), so I could forgive Katzman for feeling disappointed that the record’s comic relief is what I’ve selected here. Sure, this tale of a humble songwriter overcoming the inadequacies of his small guitar amp is not overtly thought provoking, but it’s still a sweet story expertly delivered and a fine example of Katzman’s knack for satisfying rhymes. The chorus is one of the earworms of his career – you can practically hear the band’s smiles as the group vocals reach ever upwards, urged on by a genius chord progression even by Katzman’s high standards. No doubt Katzman spent many more sleepless nights crafting the dense lyrics found elsewhere on the album than for this light-hearted ditty, but perhaps Be The Wheel would have benefitted from a little more of 5-Watt Rock’s simple joy.
Also try: Be the Wheel and Hit the Target provide a bit more food for thought and also showcase Katzman’s adroit songwriting.
22.One That Got Away
by MUNA
There’s only been one song from Los Angeles pack leaders MUNA this year following the triumph of last year’s Silk Chiffon, a glorious collaboration with Phoebe Bridgers, but boy is it a good one. On One That Got Away, the band lean into full-blown 80s art pop, the angular synths almost blinding vibrant, the aggressively clipped snare drum sounding colossal. Katie Gavin’s hook is a winner, and a climactic bass fill almost feels cribbed from that moment in You Can Call Me Al. This ever popular trio aren’t going anywhere.
Also try: Silk Chiffon is an essential piece of not just MUNA’s discography, but modern pop in general.
21.Clashing Colours
by Quinn Oulton feat. Monica Martin from Alexithymia
A reworking with incomparable soul singer Monica Martin elevated this track from South London multi-instrumentalist Quinn Oulton in April. A sublimely rich bass is a spectre looming over the mix and a nice match for Oulton’s tip-toeing breathy sax, which eventually finds its place in the track with a meandering jazz solo. It makes for an impossibly cool jazz-funk stew – a groove to savour with every listen.
Also try: Lately
20.New York
by The Kills from God Games
“Why should hip-hop be future-forward and guitar music always looking back?” the Kills asked in an NME interview before their recent album God Games, and it’s only when you hear the inventive brilliance of that album that it becomes how clear just how behind the curve the rest of today’s guitar music is. New York in particular succeeds in being unlike any rock song you’ve heard before, in large part to a heavy use of orchestra hits, which lend the track the grandiosity of the opening scenes of a spy thriller. Bare bones percussion and wall-shaking bass make for a suitably industrial-feeling portrait of the Big Apple. This isn’t a repeat of Alicia Keys’ or Frank Sinatra’s romantic visions of American Dream New York, but perhaps something more realistic: dirtier, angrier, with rats scuttling from gutter to gutter and taxi horns blaring. New York’s most compelling aspect, however, is its roof-raiser of a guitar riff, destined to be sung passionately by thousands in the vast concert halls that no doubt await this daring rock duo.
Also try: Wasterpiece
19.Begin Again
by Jessie Ware from That! Feels Good!
Begin Again formed the pinnacle of Jessie Ware’s April album That! Feels Good!, which largely built on the sound established by its predecessor What’s Your Pleasure? – no bad thing since What’s Your Pleasure? was nothing short of a modern classic. It’s a towering five and a half minute epic that earns favourable comparisons to Stevie Wonder’s Another Star. The descending bass line holds similar gravitas, as does a stellar horn contribution from trendy London jazz group Kokoroko. It’s Ware herself, however, that crowns it, sealing a cinematic crescendo with spine-tingling high notes that exemplify the huge strides she’s made as both an artist and a singer since her debut 13 years ago.
Also try: you can’t go wrong with Ware’s latest album, but Pearls and Freak Me Now are two of my other favourites.
18.Everybody’s Saying That
by Girl Ray from Prestige
Girl Ray’s live show may have disappointed in November, but there’s no denying Everybody’s Saying That is a glorious little disco single. There’s a loveable awkwardness to Poppy Hankin’s vocals and the mix as a whole, which trades the glossy sheen of something Dua Lipa might release for the air of three friends simply having a good time in a studio. There’s plenty of fun to be had on that bulletproof chorus hook, and the trio don’t miss the opportunity for a slightly silly clavinet breakdown. The result is a simple joy: funk at its euphoric, uncomplicated best.
Also try: True Love and Tell Me provide plenty more disco joy.
17.Birth4000
by Floating Points
Try to explain to someone in a sentence what sort of music Floating Points makes and you’ll find yourself giving five more sentences of qualifiers and explanations before you can get close to fully conveying the extent of this artist’s musical creativity. A good place to start is his astonishing work with London Symphony Orchestra, Promises, which is a transfixing, 46-minute long ambient classical piece that features the murmured incantations of late sax giant Pharoah Sanders. Fittingly, Birth4000 is just about the complete opposite: a steamy, in-your-face trance banger that writhes and throbs the way only the most compelling dance music can. The drops are titanic, with the kick drum turned up just loud enough to become slightly distorted. This is a piece of music that kicks you by the backside into the hypnotising strobes of a euphoric, thronging nightclub. You won’t want it to stop.
Also try: devote an hour to Promises and thank me later, or try trippy single Vocoder for a completely different side of Floating Points.
16.Running Out of Time
by Paramore from This Is Why
Beloved punk pop group Paramore could be forgiven for calling it quits at this point, their late-noughties hits like Misery Business and All I Wanted now increasingly old enough to enter nostalgic classic territory. Instead, they released one of the best albums of their career so far with February’s edgy, quick-witted tour de force This Is Why. The call-to-action title track that opens the album was easy to love, but I’ve gone with funky Running Out Of Time for this list. A playful number about always being late (“There was a fire! (metaphorically) / Be there in five! (hyperbolically)”), there’s also a touch of social commentary on our productivity-first culture for any listeners looking for some food for thought. More importantly, there’s some delightfully nasty guitar riffs, plus Zac Farro letting loose on a swaggering drum groove. Paramore’s golden era hits may be untouchable but make no mistake: this band isn’t fading away any time soon.
Also try: This Is Why‘s title track makes for a killer album opener.
15.Go Dig My Grave
by Lankum from False Lankum
Irish drone-folk group are no strangers to gothic tales of doom and misery, but Go Dig My Grave, the masterful opener to their lauded March album False Lankum (the Guardian’s Album of the Year, no less) reaches new levels of chilling. It begins with a breathtaking two minutes of solo vocals from Radie Peat, who possesses an earthy, sorrowful voice unlike any you’ve heard before. She unravels a disturbing narrative as storm clouds gather in the form of industrial clatters and a sinister strings drone. Each member of Lankum is a multi-instrumentalist and the fact that most of the instruments in the ensuing dirge are tricky to identify adds to the disorientating horror, lending the climax a supernatural intensity. This is folk music at its most sickening, the terror of Peat’s lyrics realised potently in the incessant rise and fall of detuned violins. Go Dig My Grave is Lankum at the peak of their witch-like powers.
Also try: there’s plenty of treasures on False Lankum. Master Crowley’s successfully turns a Gaelic jig into something hellish, while On a Monday Morning is one of many drone-free moments of peaceful melancholia.
14.Sleepwalker
by Ava Max from Diamonds & Dancefloors
It seems the intensely mainstream sound of Ava Max has caused to her music to be largely dismissed as chart-ready pop candy floss, primed to keep company with the countless other indistinguishable female pop acts destined to be forgotten in a few years’ time. Indeed, Max’s vocals are hardly exceptional, and Sleepwalker’s lyrics about making a guy obsess over her are at best functional and at worst clunky, but the fact is no other pop song this year has matched this one’s instant appeal. Flawless chorus hook aside, what other charting track this year features a synth solo this brazen? In a genre plagued by impersonal corporate hitmakers, crafting pernicious hooks behind the scenes like evil scientists, there’s a frisson of playfulness in the longer than necessary solo that suggests Max is genuinely having fun beyond her quest for a global pop empire. That’s not to say Sleepwalker shows much daring, but it does deliver the pop formula for success in a way so impeccably you’ll find yourself humming along to the chorus before your first listen is even over. Max has had much bigger hits than this and will no doubt push Sleepwalker further into obscurity with another slew of smashes in 2024, but I maintain this little pop gem is criminally underrated.
Also try: Maybe You’re the Problem, Ghost and Hold Up (Wait a Minute) are all bangers, not to mention Max’s energetic contribution to the Barbie movie, Choose Your Fighter.
13.The Abyss
by KNOWER from KNOWER FOREVER
Inimitable US funk artist Louis Cole has played some nut-tight grooves in his time, but few are as exquisitely precise as The Abyss, the face-melting highlight of his superb project with Genevieve Artadi under the name KNOWER released in October. Sam Wilkes delivers a particularly monstrous performance on bass, purring tiger-like under Artadi’s clipped vocals and Cole’s trademark sharp-edged synths. The rhythmic discipline all round is immense – not one note comes a fraction too late – and that’s before mentioning the ensuing chaos of the track’s unfettered second half: not one but two whirlwind Cole drum solos, a screaming distorted sax solo and a showstopping blast on keyboards all provide an assault on the ears before Artadi coolly brings it home with one last chorus. It’s KNOWER at their ruthless best: astonishing, cut-throat electro-funk from start to finish.
Also try: I’m the President is a thoroughly satisfying album opener, while Nightmare descends into a cosmic electrofunk jam.
12.Phlox
by Emma Rawicz from Chroma
Emma Rawicz is gaining a reputation as one of the more cerebral new exponents of UK jazz, serving shape-shifting, rhythmically complex compositions that are often hard to pin down. Phlox is a song that avoids any aimless wandering via the oldest trick in the book: a no nonsense riff, repeated over and over. Granted, it’s a very Rawicz sort of riff – that is to say, dazzlingly complex – but it’s delivered with such flair and precision it’s hard not to get whipped up in the stormy brilliance of it all. Rawicz is also on fine form for a delightfully impolite solo, but it’s drummer Asaf Sirkis who steals the show with a marvellous closing drum solo that both neatly fills the gaps made by that riff whilst sounding utterly chaotic. Rawicz’s jazz has never felt so vital.
Also try: Middle Ground is a perfect example of Rawicz’s softer side.
11.You Are Not My Friend
by Tessa Violet from MY GOD!
One of the great underrated albums of the year in my books was Tessa Violet’s midsummer release MY GOD!, a leitmotif-laden opus that excelled in every genre Violet had a crack at, from the bombastic hyperpop opener to Swift-esque Again, Again or the folksy singalong Kitchen Song. You Are Not My Friend was an apt closer, wrapping up the emotional complexities of the earlier tracks with a straightforward pop punk sound as unapologetic and self-assured as its title. Here, as in virtually all of Violet’s songs, the songwriting is exceptional, with the interlocking vocals in the technicolour finale evidence of Violet’s considerable pop nous. The lyrics are gold dust for anyone looking for reassurance after a messy breakup, but even for the rest of us the quotable nuggets come thick and fast (“You say I’m insecure? / You’re twenty-eight with a teenager” will go down as one of Violet’s sharpest take downs). It’s a testament to the strength of You Are Not My Friend that you don’t need to directly relate to any of the lyrics in order to share Violet’s sweet, sweet taste of retribution.
Also try: MY GOD! is an album that rewards front to back listening, but start with BAD BITCH or Breakdown if you want to dip your toes into it.
10.Up Song
by Black Country, New Road from Live at Bush Hall
Up Song is responsible for one of the most memorable live music experiences of my life so far. It happened not this year, but in May 2022, in a feverish Brudenell Social Club the day Leeds United narrowly avoided relegation. Black Country, New Road were a band in a unique turmoil: just five days following the release of their instant cult classic Ants From Up There, their lyrically gifted yet troubled frontman Isaac Wood abruptly left the band. Up Song marked the beginning of the remaining six members’ intimate gig in Leeds which, astonishingly, comprised of an entirely new album worth of unreleased material. New lead vocalist Tyler Hyde proved she was not one for introductions, soon interrupting a quiet opening with a typically unpredictable onslaught of sound, May Kershaw prominently hammering away behind her on piano. It ended up being an inspired reflection on the band’s turbulent recent history; the climactic line “Look at what we did together / BCNR, friends forever,” might sound trite on paper, but belted in a sudden a capella unison from every band member it was uniquely moving. The rest of the gig (and 2023’s live album) had more than its fair share of interesting post-Wood creativity, but it was Up Song that announced BCNR’s rapid reinvention in glorious style.
Also try: Dancers holds the album’s best vocal hook, but it was cinematic epic Turbines/Pigs that had the BCNR fans really swooning.
9.But leaving is
by Matt Maltese from Driving Just To Drive
Reading balladeer Matt Maltese is no stranger to a good old fashioned love song. These days he’s got a slew of bittersweet tracks to his name, from the formative breakout hit Even If It’s a Lie (the sort of superb songwriting that demands no more than a simple piano accompaniment to shine) to the viral epic As the World Caves In, a spectacular song which changes complexion somewhat when you learn it was written about Theresa May and Donald Trump spending a steamy night together before nuking the planet. Even by Maltese’s standards, however, But leaving is is an utterly heart-wrenching ballad. The central punchline – “Love isn’t a choice / … but leaving is” – might be the finest lyric of his career, a smart one-two that manages to encapsulate much of the lovesick emotion that Maltese has devoted his music career to thus far. He seems to know he’s got a winner on his hands, too, delaying the payoff in two exquisite choruses, which are lifted by tasteful strings and his trademark melancholy piano. It’s a stunningly emotive arrangement of the sort Maltese’s starry peers like Lewis Capaldi and Dean Lewis simply can’t match with their cookie cutter four-chorders.
Also try: Hello Black Dog has a sickening, dark edge, whilst Florence is a lovely, rare uptempo number from Maltese.
8.All Life Long
by Kali Malone from All Life Long
All Life Long has the power to bend time. It’s a piece of ambient music that gets under my skin, stops me in my tracks and leaves me feeling invariably different – calmer, more in tune with my surroundings – than when I started it. Like most of Kali Malone’s work, it is a piece of solo pipe organ music, and the most obvious image evoked is that of a funeral; the achingly slow tempo brings with it palpable gravitas as notes slowly float downwards the same way a coffin might be carefully lowered into a grave. But All Life Long deserves also to be felt outside the context of the Church. Through her music, Malone has made it her mission to decouple the majestic organ from the dogmatic domain of religion and worship, and what makes All Life Long (and much of Malone’s work) so interesting is how starkly different it is from the organ music we know: more patient, nuanced and imaginative than the music we tend to associate with a church organ. Bach’s mathematically precise masterpieces for the instrument may be rightly venerated, but he never brought us intimacy with the instrument the way Malone does, never highlighted the way the notes aren’t constant but in fact a breath-like wave (which Malone leans into in a 70-second long final note here), or showed us how each note begins with a little whistle as the air shifts direction in the pipes, plus the tactile click of a key being pressed. The organ is a uniquely magnificent instrument. As All Life Long argues convincingly, it’s time it left the cold confines of the Church.
Also try: Thought-provoking lockdown album Does Spring Hide Its Joy weighs in at a daunting five hours but rewards an open mind, whereas The Sacrificial Code provides more of All Life Long‘s ruminative, secular organ music.
7.Bewitched
by Laufey from Bewitched
It’s easy to imagine Laufey landing into Bewitched Mary Poppins style, floating down gracefully via umbrella just in time for the first verse. Such is the love-it-or-hate-it Disney feel to the ornate orchestral arrangement in this track, the likes of which the mainstream pop charts hasn’t seen for generations; the Icelandic-Chinese jazz singer would have certainly had a number one album on her hands if a certain Olivia Rodrigo hadn’t released a slightly better album the same week. Lean into the intense sweetness of Bewitched’s orchestration and you’ll no doubt be as besotted as I am. Laufey’s gentle vocals are gorgeous yet charmingly unshowy, singing as if a song of this delicate beauty might fall apart if she were to overexert for a high note. Not that she needs any vocal flourishes – every melody here is a beauty, the luscious strings supporting Laufey like a warm, cosy bed. Laufey’s lyrics are deeply romantic, framing love not as a choice but a sort of benign curse, an uncontrollable desire to lose yourself in its “all-consuming fire”. It may sound like there’s an uncurrent of unease in all the talk of “bewitching”, but make no mistake: Bewitched is pure, unrestrained love in music form. Love songs just don’t get any lovelier.
Also try: Lovesick is Laufey’s rock moment and comes off surprisingly well; From the Start is her record-breaking bossa nova smash hit.
6.A Month Or Two
by Odie Leigh
Every so often, a song comes along that seems to tell you exactly what you need to hear. Odie Leigh’s charming ditty A Month Or Two was that song for me, an unfussy waltz on acoustic guitar broadly about growing up. Leigh’s repeated progression on guitar might have outstayed its welcome if it weren’t for a glorious string quartet that patiently weaves its way into the fabric of the track. The tension is held for a moment before the exquisite payoff, the luscious interlocking melodies sounding like a warm bath at the end of a long day. Leigh’s repeated assurance to “give it some time” is beyond comforting. It’s obviously a vague lyric that will resonate with many listeners in different ways, but there’s some magic in Leigh’s cooing vocals or her lullaby-like guitar plucking that makes it feel like she’s speaking directly to you, and only you. A Month Or Two is a cooling balm of a song I’m convinced everyone needs in their life from time to time.
Also try: Crop Circles, or Big Thief’s Change which was a similar comfort song for me this year.
5.My Love Mine All Mine
by Mitski from The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We
To get a hooky, upbeat pop song about, say, being “hot to go” in the charts is tough enough, but getting the masses hooked on a quiet, subtle two-minute country ballad about the moon is a Herculean challenge. Of course, if anyone could pulled it off, it would be America’s favourite troubled genius Mitski, who took over the Internet in September with this jewel from her divine seventh album. Every second is a meticulously crafted moment of bliss, from the lazy, last-orders-at-a-jazz-bar piano inflections to the silky wisps of slide guitar that seem to weightlessly hang in the mix like a plume of cigarette smoke. Mitski’s lyric sheet is as poetic as ever, but more optimistic than usual, celebrating the preciousness of both her lover and, more importantly, her capacity to love. As is customary for a Mitski song, this track briskly comes and goes with little time for rumination. The good news is that My Love Mine All Mine is not a song that loses its emotional potency with repeat listens – trust me.
Also try: When Memories Snow includes one of Mitski’s strongest metaphors, whilst I’m Your Man memorably depicts the artist being eaten alive by hounds, sound effects and all.
4.Nothing Matters
by the Last Dinner Party from Prelude to Ecstacy
Arguably the most exciting development in British indie music this year has been the rise of the Last Dinner Party, a London five-piece who continue to amass a cult following despite having released only four songs. In fact, they’d already signed to Island Records and scored a support slot for the Rolling Stones at Hyde Park before they’d released their first single, prompting perhaps justifiable claims from hard-working independent artists of being an ‘industry plant’. The good news is, organically successful or not, every one of the Last Dinner Party’s four singles has been exceptional, each introducing their carefully presented brand of baroque rock. Live shows involve band members (and audience members) dressed in elaborate Edwardian-style gowns and corsets whilst frolicking amidst regal candelabras. Their visit to the intimate, famed stage of Brudenell Social Club promises to be one of the most thrilling occasions for Undertone in 2024.
Debut single Nothing Matters is perhaps the most majestic of the four songs and a masterclass in endowing a straightforward two note chorus with as much emotional weight as it can possibly sustain. Abigail Morris’ lyrics are poetic and layered, yet unafraid to unleash an embittered expletive when the time comes in the chorus. What turns Nothing Matters from a good song into a great one is how the band negotiate the denouement. Emily Roberts’ dovetailing guitar solo evokes Sam Ryder in full Eurovision saviour mode, and a fanfare of horns and strings provide a sense of scale and pathos unlike any debut single I’ve heard before. It’s an instant masterpiece for a band that thus far hasn’t put a foot wrong. Industry plants? If the music is this good, I say let the industry keep planting.
Also try: the three other singles so far, in order of greatness, are My Lady of Mercy, By Your Side and Sinner.
3.vampire
by Olivia Rodrigo from GUTS
Almost no one reading this will need reminding of Olivia Rodrigo. She’s had an astonishingly successful 2023, finishing up with six Grammy nominations and a potential Oscar next year for her song in the new Hunger Games movie. Increasingly, it seems like everything she touches turns to gold. That was certainly the case for her second album, GUTS, one of those precious music releases that was both listened to by everybody and adored by everybody. It was earthier, wittier and just generally better than her 2021 debut album and almost every track was worthy of this list, but the lead single was the most obvious choice of album highlight. vampire is Rodrigo’s masterpiece, opening with a gentle Beatles-esque chord progression and crashing to a halt with a spliced up piano bashed with maximum rage. In the intervening three and a half minutes Rodrigo steadily ramps up the intensity, dissecting a toxic relationship with some of her sharpest lyrical slights to date. Behind her, an accompaniment thrillingly gathers pace, eventually snowballing into a compelling gallop that lifts the track to new, mesmeric heights. Rodrigo started her career with a blockbuster bridge (on Drivers’ License), and vampire’s is perhaps even better, the galloping backing sounding relentless, her melody inevitable. With vampire, Olivia Rodrigo rightly took over the planet once more. When she visits Manchester on her world tour next year (which, to the detriment of my bank account, I have tickets for), she will be greeted like a queen.
Also try: GUTS, probably my album of the year. all-american bitch, bad idea right? and making the bed are all essential listens in the unlikely case you’ve navigated 2023 without coming into contact with them.
2.Not Strong Enough
by boygenius from the record
The boygenius trio are friends before bandmates. It’s a fact clearer than ever on their soaring country rock number Not Strong Enough, which finds the three American singer-songwriters, who formed boygenius as something of an indie supergroup and released their debut album this year, trading verses and eventually coalescing in stunning harmony. Their imagery is particularly thoughtful (joyriding through a canyon, disassociating whilst staring at the ceiling, a quiet drive home alone) but it’s the proudly belted “I don’t know why I am the way I am” that lingers longest, a lyric as simple as it is wise. It’s delivered with the sort of fist-pumping melody that compelled hundreds to lose their voices (and their consciousness) singing along when Undertone caught the group in Halifax on a memorable midsummer’s night. boygenius’ layered lyrics about feminism and friendship have plenty of depth, but really Not Strong Enough is a wonderfully simple song and one of those pieces of music that makes you smile without exactly knowing why.
Also try: Cool About It and True Blue were my fourth and fifth most listened to songs of the year. Not Strong Enough was my number one.
1.Any Time Of Day
by the Lemon Twigs from Everything Harmony
I am a believer that our musical preferences are often determined by the cultural prevalence of certain styles during our formative teenage years, which partly explains why soft rock – a genre that had its heyday in the 70s and, unlike its disco cousin, is not yet considered cool enough for a modern revival – is often synonymous with the somewhat derogatory term ‘Dad rock’. These days much of soft rock feels dated, now replaced by the myriad of more courageous and forward-thinking rock subgenres that could never have thrived during an era where the idea of accessing virtually all recorded music in a few clicks was science fiction.
The Lemon Twigs, New York brothers Brian and Michael D’Addario, are the exception. Their six years of releasing proudly revivalist soft rock came to a head in May with their fourth album and magnum opus, Everything Harmony. As a staunch musical defense of Dad rock, it was difficult to refute – from elegant melodies to imaginative song structures and harmony, Everything Harmony managed to point out all the most flattering aspects of soft rock that have been somewhat overlooked in recent decades. The crème de la crème was Any Time Of Day, a truly titanic ballad. It may be fairly brief, but every inch of this song is genius, especially when it comes to the fantastically interesting chord choices (and buttery smooth key change), which sound miles more sophisticated than anything in the charts today.
There’s a timelessness to the lyrics, which are dreamily romantic (“you can make it bright / any time of day”) without pinning themselves down to a specific era or circumstance – like all the best songs, Any Time Of Day is an accommodating blank slate on which to imprint any meaning or emotion you like. The lines are delivered with in a heavenly falsetto which seems to get more and more euphoric with every line until the utterly glorious musical fireworks of the finale. The bass purrs, the backing vocals flutter, the synths scintillate; by the two minute mark you’ll be transported into a wholly different, blissful realm. I usually dismiss soft rock fans living in the past who may tut at the current state of the charts with lines like “they don’t make ‘em like they used to”. Comparing the majesty of Any Time Of Day to the rest of the competition in 2023, I’m beginning to think they might have a point after all.
Also try: inspired songwriting is abound on Everything Harmony, but When Winter Comes Around and What Happens to a Heart are two of my other favourites.
Jet Set Radio was once long forgotten, but following recent news that the game could possibly be making a return, Alex Walden is here to analyse the musical side of the game and the soundtrack’s cultural significance.
I woke up and ate some cereal and began checking the news like any other day. It wasn’t until I opened YouTube and watched a video reviewing an alleged leak from SEGA headquarters that my day began to change. After over 20 painfully slow years, I couldn’t believe that one of my biggest influences on me as a kid Jet Set Radio was supposedly getting a new addition to its catalogue. I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if no one who read this had even played the game. I had forgotten about the game until earlier this year. It was a cool game but it lost its popularity very quickly so you can understand why I wasn’t jumping around my room in excitement yet. I was still interested though so I thought I’d see the footage and it wasn’t until I heard that classic tune of Hideki Naganuma’s Humming The Bassline that it all came flooding back to me. It was like a flashbang of nostalgia had blinded me, the rush of how the game used to make me feel came back so suddenly. I instantly knew I had to put on the soundtrack again while I tried to find my PS Vita to play the game one more time.
After playing I realised that Jet Set radio is the same as any action game to come out of the 1990s/2000s era of video games, in being that it includes an incredibly awful set of controls (seriously, the camera controls are almost rage-inducing), no ability to explore without a timer over your head and the equalizer that makes everything bad about it not seem so bad after all: an absolute banger of a soundtrack, courtesy of composer Hideki Naganuma.
Jet Set radio was renamed to Jet Grind Radio in the US due to licensing issues. The US market is also why the game features the New York-based Grind City map.
As I played through the tutorial, all I could think was “damn I used to want to be these people so bad”. I paused and looked around my room. I realised that if young Alex could see himself now, he’d be pretty impressed with how the influence of Jet Set Radio is still rooted within me. But what makes this game so incredibly influential? I mean I played hundreds of video games as a kid yet for some reason this was one of the few that helped shape my life.
The soundtrack – a melting pot of sounds
Don’t get me wrong, tearing around the streets of Tokyo-To on magnetically driven inline skates tagging every wall I see with my own custom graffiti is incredibly cool, however, much like anything I do today, it’s no fun unless I have a killer soundtrack, and Hideki Naganuma takes care of that problem with ease. Yes, the self-proclaimed “CEO of funky fresh beats” manages to gather up numerous genres and cram them into a tiny little mix. For a video game soundtrack, it does an amazing job of putting through your main character’s thought process. It sounds erratic and high intensity, yet it also has this smooth undertone that keeps you collected as you hope and pray that your character skates land on that rail without falling over on the ground incredibly hard. The soundtrack has a good clash of songs that keep you hyped up (e.g., Let Mom Sleep and Grace and Glory) as well as songs that keep you chilled out (e.g. That’s Enough and Moody Shuffle).
Funk, electronica, hip hop, rock and acid jazz are squashed together, fighting for their chance to be admired.
There’s a nice balance of songs that give off a futuristic vibe as well as keeping in style with that classic hip hop sound. A good example would be when the character Combo is introduced and you play your first mission as him. The game’s soundtrack gives you a smooth simple beat on the track Everybody Jump Around that fits well with his 80s New York hip hop reminiscent style, but the song is filled with scratches and chops of audio samples to throw you off. By doing this your brain becomes scattered on what to focus on and gives you this psychological rush to match your character who’s racing down the streets of Tokyo-to.
It doesn’t just stop at hip hop though. Throughout the soundtrack you can notice elements of funk, electronica, hip hop, rock, acid jazz and many more. It feels like this cluster of genres that are all squashed together fighting for their chance to be admired, making the soundtrack sound erratic and abrasive, yet Naganuma is able to make all this work through the magic of sequencing all the songs together one by one so the party in your ears doesn’t stop. This feature is a subtle one, for first-time players you’ll hardly notice it because you’re too busy rolling around the speed of sound trying not to be shot by police. But when you notice it, you can’t help but realise how much it assists in creating a different world that only you and your console are in for a short period of time. You begin to realise that these are no longer just a bunch of street rat vandals whom you get to play as; these are artists who are making their own paths in a city where what they do is not tolerated and they do this by throwing all their interests together and seeing what comes out of it. It feels like you’re hanging out with the cool kids in high school TV shows who smoke behind the schoolyard. You know that they’re kind of bad news but they just look so cool you can’t resist. It’s not often I say this, but as someone who DJs in their spare time, it actually has me looking forward to the end of each song, in a good way of course. Now can you tell me a soundtrack that makes you feel like that? I thought not.
JSR didn’t just break barriers with its soundtrack, it was one of the first video games to use use the now iconic cell shading art style.
Why Jet Set Radio will never die
Although Jet Set Radio had been put away for the past 20 years, the game’s culture, along with the era of the 2000s, lives on – you just have to know where to look. It’s all underground, baby.
Considering the game tapped into cultures like techno music, graffiti and action sports marketed to a bunch of impressionable kids and young adults, it’s no wonder the game has a die-hard fanbase that many artists take inspiration from. A genre of music that resonates heavily with JSR fans today would be the genre breakcore. The genre takes a page out of the book of Naganuma by combining jungle and techno, bringing back this cyber personality to its music that was thought to be long forgotten along with its hard-hitting drum breaks and smooth melodies. With artists like TOKYOPILL, Star Trash and black balloons taking over the scene by storm, we can be assured that music-wise you’re in good hands.
It feels like an insight into the world we were promised as kids but never got because life got in the way.
While I think breakcore captures the cyber aesthetic of what Jet Set Radio was offering us, I have to be honest and say that no matter how amazing and well-crafted the song is, breakcore doesn’t give us that upbeat feeling that we get from the JSR soundtrack. Instead, I’d say that breakcore captures the futuristic unknowing of the 2000s better than the Jet Set Radio Vibe. The beauty of the JSR soundtrack was that it was upbeat but also light-hearted. Yes, you were running around avoiding police, helicopters and in some cases tanks, but it never felt too intense or pressuring. The soundtrack made it seem fun but when I listen to breakcore, I don’t feel like part of a group; I feel like my headphones are my only companion it feels like an exclusive experience just for me, not for anyone else. If you’re looking for something that sounds fresh from your Sega mega drive, look no further than 2Mello’s Memories of Tokyo-to. If having the name of the city where the game is located in the title isn’t enough to convince you, then you only have to listen to hear the odd Jet Set Radio sample here and there. Also, make sure to look out for the soundtrack for the upcoming game Bomb Rush Cyberfunk to hear songs produced by Hideki Naganuma throughout the game’s soundtrack coming August 18th.
The JSR influence is very heavy in BRC, and we’re here for it!
Looking to the future of JSR
Whenever I talk about Jet Set Radio, I always feel a little bit upset or sentimental, though this may have just been a game for some people that they played as a kid. For me, it feels like a reminder of the 2000s era and the culture surrounding it: everything ranging from music and fashion to attitudes towards the future. It almost feels like an insight into the world we were promised as kids but we never got it because life got in the way.
At this point I was going to talk about how not all hope is lost and that the release of JSR’s ‘spiritual successor’ Bomb Rush Cyberfunk was going to save us, but the day after I finished writing this article that whole story got thrown out the window entirely with the news of the new JSR leak. However, I recommend looking into Bomb Rush Cyberfunk if you are looking for some more high-speed combo-building action, Hideki Naganuma decided to bless us with his skills for parts of the soundtrack of that game too. Despite the game not being released yet, fans are already excited about what’s to come.
We can tell from the trailer alone that Mr. Naganuma never stopped perfecting his craft. The way that the drums of the song spit viciously across the track while robotic-sounding lyrics wrestle their way through the song’s techno melody felt as if like all those years that the Jet Set Radio had been forgotten about. All those grooves, those drums, those melodies made me feel as if it had come back with a vengeance and had punched me square in the face. It feels like an explosion of 20 years’ worth of culture that was waiting for me and had just had enough of waiting around.
I feel like the news of the Jet Set Radio leak as well as the announcement of Bomb Rush Cyberfunk best described a comment under Bomb Rush Cyberfunk’s trailer ‘My brain is saying “Nice to meet you” but my heart is saying “welcome home”.’ I can’t wait to rekindle my love for the Jet Set Radio soundtrack once more thanks to Naganuma and Team Reptile. I can look forward to what the future holds, just like how I did as a kid. That’s more than enough for me.
