Overlooked/Best Songs of 2023 So Far
I can’t say anything’s blown me away as an album just yet, but there are diamonds in the rough, and I’m about to spend 2000 words talking about ‘em! I already wrote about two of my favorite songs of the year so far here (“Boyhood” by the Japanese House, and “Breakdown” by Ruston Kelly), so go read that.
Here are some overlooked songs, in order of least to most Spotify plays, along with some other songs I love. You can read my writing about bands like Daughter and Young Fathers here.
And here’s the Spotify playlist of all the songs + some others!
Piglet — Building Site Outside
SOUNDS LIKE: Owl John, SOAK, Black Country, New Road, trans resilience
This came out of nowhere for me (well, out of a publicist email comparing him to Nilufer Yanya), even as Piglet released an early version three years ago. The original is resigned and quiet, with some scattered noise — the new version is a blast of righteous fury. Getting hormones should be joyous; for Charlie Loane, a transphobic microaggression ruins the moment, underlining the risk he’s about to take by starting testosterone. As rendered by Loane and Harvey Grant of Puma Blue, and mixed by Depeche Mode/Black Midi engineer Marta Salogni, “Building” is a piercing, anguished cry, the harsh synths and thudding percussion conveying the anger Loane initially directs inward. In the unexpectedly heartwarming final verse, a call to a supportive father makes everything feel a little less painful. I hear a lot of touchstones (Andy Hull, Scott Hutchison, fellow Irish musician SOAK, even early Animal Collective), but the synthesis of those influences is entirely new.
Foyer Red — Unwaxed Flavored Floss
Sounds Like: Palm, Deerhoof, whimsical shenangians
Wonderfully unpredictable math-rock, first recommended by a friend whose taste mostly skews towards hyperpop. “Hyper-mathrock” is the best way to describe this group’s sense of playfulness, with group members alternating lines word by word and songs changing entirely on a whim. (There is no way this group is not a hivemind masquerading as five separate people.) But it’s all with a gentle, warm spirit; this is mathy goodness you can take home to your mom, provided your mom is sufficiently open-minded.
Stolen Jars — Reality TV
SOUNDS LIKE: Sidney Gish, Wallows, long car rides soundtracked by SiriusXM Alt Nation.
A band like Stolen Jars immediately endears itself to me because they’re such a classic indie rock group. Take “Reality TV”: guitar riff is American Football + New Order (who aren’t indie but inspired a whole lot of it), vocal arrangement is Broken Social Scene + Local Natives layers, even an LCD Soundsystem namedrop in the lyrics. This isn’t a knock against Stolen Jars — they have their own laid-back, slightly anxious personality, the references just part of the charm. Immaculately produced by the band and Joe Reinhart, the song is gourmet comfort food for fans of this kind of polished, no-bullshit pop-rock.
Lanterns on the Lake — The Likes of Us
Sounds like: Florence Welch, Chrissie Hyde, a motivational quote that hits at just the right moment
Mercury Prize-nominated Scottish shoegaze band makes a Florence + The Machine-meets-Chrissie-Hyde song with Radiohead’s drummer Phillip Selway , and the mishmash of styles works. Guitarist Paul Gregory previously mixed projects from Mastersystem and Minor Victories, two projects that successfully balance searing noise and soaring hooks — on “The Likes of Us”, a full on pop ballad still roars like shoegaze. “I won’t let this spark die in me” reads as cheesy on paper, but with the strings and guitar feedback propelling her, Hazel Wilde wills meaning back into those aphorisms. There’s a depth of feeling and optimism here that I don’t always see in contemporary rock, and I’ve missed that earnestness. Line delivery of the year so far is “am I a wreeeck?, you bet/I learned from the beeeest, you should know that.”
KNOWER — I’m the President
Sounds Like: Vulfpeck, Jacob Collier, a jam session with your best friends
I was in my high school’s jazz band program, and I never truly fit in. I was too quirky, too flighty, too non-masculine to hold my own with the other kids; “jazz bros” were a thing way before Jacob Collier and Adam Neely (all love to Neely though). I also just plain wasn’t good enough and didn’t practice enough — I was already getting into writing and production at that time, and practicing piano just didn’t feel as rewarding. When I hear Louis Cole and Genevieve Artradi creating this brand of joyful chaos, it makes me want to get better again. There’s an unexpected bite to the playfulness; the entire chorus is braggadocio (“who’s the president? Me!/that’s that fucking Genevieve”) , then “I love you” is almost an afterthought. The narcissism comes to a head in the second verse: “I heard you’ve been talking shit/we’ll see where that airstrike hits,” the funniest thing I’ve heard all year.
Kill For You — Gigi Perez
Sounds like: Samia, Jeff Buckley, a deep voiced sapphic songwriter of your choice
Gigi Perez is one of the most intriguing musicians to come out of TikTok — her deep, throaty bellow owes more to Jeff Buckley than Phoebe Bridgers. Perez’ background is further unexpected; she’s signed to Interscope imprint Mogul Vision (home of *checks notes* Smokepurpp) and touring with Noah Cyrus. What’s actually on record is a more traditional kind of big star power with flamboyant 90s-rock hooks and soft/loud dynamics. I love the twist on the phrase “I would kill for you”, literally killing a part of yourself to be with someone. (“I will never be the one that got away” is another anxiously-attached highlight.)
Fake Smiles — Jim Legxcy
Sounds like: Brakence, J Hus, puttIng SoundCloud on shuffle
I asked my musically omniscient writing colleague Joshua Minsoo Kim (of Tone Glow) if anyone else sounded like Jim Legxcy, and he responded “nope.” The closest comparison I have is an Afrobeats version of the Brakence record from last year, with lyrics that don’t sound penned by an angsty 13-year-old. Brakence’s music is made for reaction channels to gawk at the tempo changes and glitchy mixing board pyrotechnics, which is of course a noble goal. There’s no extrinsic reason for Legxcy’s inspired combination, everything is on the track seemingly just because Legxcy feels like it. Take this song: the lead riff sounds like a midwest emo band covering “Am I Wrong,” the drums are a mix of 808s and hand percussion, and there’s a sample from rapper J Hus as background texture as Legxcy croons. It never sounds messy or superfluous, but naturally balanced.
Hamish Hawk — Think of Us Kissing
Sounds like: Orville Peck, Gang of Youths, heartland britpop
This is very much in the line of self-aware but ultimately heartfelt new-wavers. Somewhere in between David Le’aupepe, Orville Peck and John Grant, with a luxurious production from Rod Jones of Idlewild, “Think Of Us Kissing” aims high. Hamish Hawk pretty much gets there! The pointed lyrics here remind me of Fashion Club’s similarly agitated record from last year, as queerness and self-expression are sucked into capitalism’s black hole: “The future is a factory/And I foresee it hating me.” If that’s the future, I am glad we have Hamish Hawk in the present. Hawk and Angel Numbers are the exact sort of gems I made this list to highlight.
FAMOUS SONGS
Gracie Abrams — Amelie
Sounds Like: Phoebe Bridgers, every other Aaron Dessner collab post-Folklore, that weirdly intense former friendship you still think about
Brandon Flowers once asked; “are we human, or are we Dessner?” He has a point; despite Aaron’s soft, increasingly autopilot production, Grace Abrams’ vulnerable humanity peeks through on “Amelie.” The nondescript acoustic soundbed only adds mystique to the tale of this brief, intense encounter. She just remembers this stranger deeply connecting with her, then never meeting her again. She does not know what Amelie really is to her, or what she wanted; she just knows the things that Amelie never told anyone else. And she’s heartbroken, deploying her vocal fry at the right times for maximum aching. The bridge reveals the true depths of her longing: “Tell me more, I would give all of my time… I’m comfortable handing you my whole life.” On yet another whispery folk record, “Amelie” is a minor miracle that resonates as deeply as any confessional songwriting. I hope Amelie heard it.
Boygenius — Not Strong Enough
Sounds Like: What you think it sounds like
Boygenius; you have thoughts, I have thoughts, your grandmother who just finished Season 1 of Shrinking has thoughts. The Record is a major-label victory lap for the trio of Julien Baker, Lucy Dacus, and Phoebe Bridgers, with a handful of transcendent standouts amidst sappy love songs and playful Leonard Cohen jabs. This one boasts funny, subversive lyrics, beautiful harmonies, and the poppiest melody anyone in the trio has written. Bonus points for namedropping “Boys Don’t Cry” over the chords of “Just Like Heaven.”
The National — New Order T-Shirt
Surprisingly Doesn’t Sound Like: New Order
More Dessner! This is the band’s take on 90s college rock, specifically making me think of “These Are Days” by 10,000 Maniacs. That’s appropriately nostalgic for a song where Matt Berninger runs through his memories, amidst a debilitating depression. There’s a lot I don’t like about this album; repetitive arrangements, run-on melodies, and clunky lines about “your hilarious sister” but a single line here justifies the more sentimental approach: “I keep what I can of you.” If you’re going to be plainspoken, you better have something new to say, and Berninger threads that needle with lines about witnessing his wife “talking to a shark in the corner”. It’s heartwarming, heartbreaking, a whole mess of emotions that post-Sleep Well Beast Berninger aims for but doesn’t grasp. There are other songs on First Two Pages of Frankenstein that capture the band at their best, but none that hit as deeply to me. Even on a record clearly borne of stasis and writer’s block, there’s still something worth keeping.
OTHER SONGS I LOVE, IN NO ORDER
Anohni and the Johnsons — It Must Change
Anohni’s voice sounds like staring into the sun, if it was healthy to do so. She summons a whole song in one take, out of thin air. Cherish her.
Asher White — Mare
Asher White takes after mid-2000s acts like Sea Wolf and the Microphones as well as contemporaries like Feeble Little Horse; it’s a quirky, promising sound. I love how imagistic her lyrics are (“I walked you home, a swollen passage/of sunsoaked older stones and foggy glass”); so many of White’s peers are praised for their directness but I find the abstract approach here just as compelling.
Anna B Savage — Pavlov’s Dog
Playful 5/4 guitar pop about intermittent reinforcement, produced by Mike Lindsay of Laura Marling’s side project LUMP. If any of those words mean something to you, you’ll love this.
Patrick Wolf — Nowhere Game
Chamber-pop breakbeat with enough spring reverb to make a surf rock guitarist blush, and lyrics referencing Fleischer Brothers cartoons. If any of those words mean something to you, you’ll love this.
Em Beihold — Roller Coasters Make Me Sad
Beihold’s Numb Little Bug was a tightly produced adult contemporary hit recalling Ingrid Michaelson and other quirky alt-pop darlings; this follow-up is gloriously unhinged, with glissandoing strings and a bridge that repeats “I should be having fun” as the roller coaster explodes behind her, Hoodwinked! style.
Leith Ross — You (On My Arm)
Here’s one for Andrew Unterberger’s Best Choruses of 2023 list. Ross is another TikTok-bred musician, but that hook is timeless adult alternative.
Art School Girlfriend — Heaven Hanging Low
The first two singles from Soft Landing scaled up but lost some of the intimacy I admired about Mackey’s electronic pop music. Then this came on, a quietly breakneck D’n’B rager about the sacredness of queer love that puts Mackey’s voice front and center.
Gordi — Broke Scene
Produced with king of electronic burbles Ethan Gruska, it’s less a Reservoir than a murky swamp of rubber-bridge guitars and twinkly pianos. That murkiness winds up a good fit for the genuinely unsettling imagery (“can’t you see you’re burning your house down?”, “gasoline dripping from your mouth”)
Jessie Ware — Shake The Bottle
Stuart Price and Dan Grech should just produce and engineer my life. Jessie Ware bristled at the thought of a Countess LuAnn comparison, but that’s because Ware has all the class money can’t buy. Elegance is learned, my friends, and she’s elegant — yet knowing — enough to land the campiness.
