Since I’ve started doing this yearly tradition in 2018, this year’s 10 best has by far been the hardest to curate. I wouldn’t have guessed that when I first sat down to write this — because 2023 certainly didn’t seem extraordinary from a holistic standpoint. I, probably just like the rest of you, have been clutching onto music especially hard since COVID-19 began its bout of terror, and in what’s been the first full-fledged normal year since, I was in too much of a good place and finally loosened my grip.
But upon reflecting, going back through these songs, remembering my brief lapses in happiness and what it felt like to breathe again because of the music, I now know it’s been quite a year, one that I’m happy to have lived alongside these songs. Here are my top 10 of the year from 10 different artists:
10. “Tightrope” by Movements
In an album that wholly disappointed me is one unparalleled gem. Movements became a staple on my On Repeat playlist upon release of 2017’s Feel Something — and I think they avoided the sophomore slump with 2020’s No Good Left To Give — but RUCKUS! just wasn’t memorable for me. I wasn’t coming back to it with urgency, wasn’t losing myself in it like Feel Something’s “Submerge,” which is my No. 32 favorite song of all time. But “Tightrope” set off my inner alarms. Frontman Patrick Miranda paints this desolate picture of viewing the world as an outsider, the love of his life not even batting an eye at him, and it’s like reflecting on your life and realizing for the first time just how alone you’ve been. Once the guitar comes in and skates across his gritty vocals, optimism somehow builds. The lyrics never become hopeful and neither does Miranda, but I take my earbuds out feeling some resolve.
9. “Pretty Girls” By Renee Rapp
In stark contrast, “Pretty Girls” is just pure fun — well, it’s sad, but it certainly doesn’t feel that way sonically. Fresh off her perfect 2022 EP Everything to Everyone, Renee Rapp dropped a solid debut album, with this made-for-radio hit sticking out. It somehow chronicles an inexplicable gay experience: coming out and fielding offers from your straight friends deciding they want to use you to experiment. Rapp, who likes being flirted with as much of us do, is almost charmed by it and uses a snappy MUNA-like chorus to sum up the night: They drink, the straight friend gets a taste, they wake in the morning pretending it never happened, and they go back to their lives. It’s hard to sit and digest the depressing lyrics when the song just feels like such a bop.
8. “It Won’t Be Like This Forever” by Neck Deep
The first time I heard this, I was instantly transported back to 2017: leaving my last year of high school on a cool October, running my cousin home and blaring Neck Deep’s The Peace and The Panic from my speakers. That year was certainly not one of my best, but damn, the music has always stayed with me in a positive way. Neck Deep’s latest releases haven’t been anything to scoff at by any stretch of the imagination, but this is the first time since where I’ve felt pure bliss. There are hints of other nostalgic pop-punk bands in here, too: melodic pushes reminiscent of Sum 41, drumming similar to Blink-182, but it’s wholly Neck Deep. Ben Barlow sings of trying to persuade his partner that the pros of their relationship completely outweigh the cons and they’ll make it with some work, but I just close my eyes and see this as a way to gauge how to spend the rest of my days: No matter how bad it is right now, it’ll change soon.
7. “The Death of Me” by Acres
An aptly named song, this is what I imagine it feels like to slowly rise out of the ashes and move onto what’s next. Ben Lumber’s lyrics and vocals are both steeped in dejection, plainly laying it out that he can barely function following his partner’s departure. The song slowly builds up with the help of soft drums and glimmering guitar lines before detonating at the sound of Lumber’s pierced pleas, screams of realization that he’s been acting like someone he’s not just to be loved, and understanding he may never be enough for anyone, not even himself. It’s a painstaking look into himself — and one I wouldn’t recommend diving into unless you’re seeking relatability.
6. “Can’t Be By Myself” by Lowswimmer, Squirrel Flower and Novo Amor
Fans of Ed Tullett, the real name of Lowswimmer, and Novo Amor know all too well that music hardly ever feels as ethereal as their discography, and this tour de force epitomizes that. With the help of Squirrel Flower, they’ve created a goosebump-inducing showpiece that makes you feel like you’re being swallowed whole. Made up of just two verses and a chorus repeated twice, it’s a lot of the same: aching piano keys gnawing at your ribs, airy vocals begging for help and a listener left destitute. But it’s a sadness you almost can’t resist. Feeling so low has truly never felt so good.
5. “Too Close / Too Late” by Spiritbox
I’ll just say it: Spiritbox has been the it group of metal since 2021’s Eternal Blue, and they have a flawless discography and a Grammy nomination to prove it. Their latest feat, EP The Fear of Fear, is a 25-minute journey through a life that’s supposed to be consumed as one long song, as frontwoman Courtney LaPlante put it herself. A few stray beats form into a booming jolt to life, with LaPlante not knowing where she is or where she’s going. She starts to remember bits and pieces, knowing she’s taken enough risks to see she shouldn’t be following her newfound lover with a blind eye, but she’s too enthralled to resist — plus, she already thought her life was over anyway, so why not just go for it? This is not only her awakening, but a call to action to every listener: Do what you want; it might not even matter tomorrow.
4. “Not Strong Enough” by boygenius
It’s about time that someone’s most popular song be their best. Though I do think their incomparable self-titled EP outshines 2023’s the record, “Not Strong Enough” might be the most deserving radio hit I’ve heard in years. Those opening acoustic strums take me vividly to a highway, trees and cars flying past me, the sun hitting my face and my head scream-singing out the car window. It’s perfectly cathartic as Phoebe Bridgers subtly bellows about not being good enough while Julien Baker harmonizes and accents the pain. The best part, though, is what Lucy Dacus has said she added to the song last minute: the repetitive “always an angel, never a god” that turns into her having palpable visions of both the end of the road and the end of her life. Hardly ever are ripe folk songs dominating the radio, so I’m going to relish it and this gorgeous song for as long as I can.
3. “Dani” by Maddie Zahm
I’ve been thinking about this song since before it was released. I saw Maddie Zahm in late 2022 in a tiny D.C. venue, where she played a host of unreleased songs on her then-incoming album. None of them stayed with me quite like “Dani.” Zahm has a way of making every song feel like your life story and, combined with her gobsmacking vocals, she’s quickly become one of the only unskippable artists in my world. Hearing this for the first time, she softly went through the first verse of explaining one of the first times she realized she was gay and in love with her best friends before belting out the girl’s name and bringing the entire crowd to a halt. I remember being dumbstruck, mesmerized by her vibrato and never wanting to leave that moment. I patiently waited until the track came out in September and listened to it about 100 times straight. She sounds just the same on her recordings, but I haven’t been brought quite back to that feeling. I’ll listen to it a million times more to try.
2. “The Angel In The Marble” by Holding Absence
It wouldn’t be one of my end of the year lists if it didn’t have Holding Absence on it. I can’t say much about the lyrical content besides that it’s a masterclass in poetry; no description of mine would come close to its beauty. Just sit and think about lines like “Look at my scars; they’re beautiful / They held me together when I wanted to let go” and “Nobody could hurt me the way I hurt myself,” punctuated with twinkling guitar lines and a kick drum that could knock me out cold. If that’s not enough, the pre-bridge comes together with a reminder to give yourself a break sometimes, know you’re “a work of art in the making,” which he screams to the heavens as the closer to an inexplicably astounding album. Lucas Woodland and company, there is truly no one consistently doing it like you.
1. “Heavener” by Invent Animate
For whatever reason, metal up-and-comer Invent Animate decided to release “Heavener,” the self-titled track to its 2023 album, six months after the fact. I have my reasons with which they might not agree: The song is one of the greatest this world will ever get, and it deserves to be a standalone. Frontman Marcus Vik gets to his feet with whispered pleas before screaming for any sign of life, and that’s when the magic happens: Guided by a hesitant kick drum, streaky synths curl to make room for a pressurized guitar line that will only become more prominent and more important as the track nears its end. Vik does his best to convince his partner that he’s here despite the abyss and the distance (“Sunshine, my light / You hold my heart / Sealed and untouched, afar.” He begs for them to keep going until he gets there before the instrumentals go crazy, the guitars melt into atmospheric pools of feeling and Vik feels himself dying. The outro fades into nothingness, but I’m always left more alive than before, wondering how a song gives me experiences I can only hope to feel outside of these headphones.
Bre Callahan 