The2010s is music journalism at its deepest and most thoughtful. In an era of instant reactions, hot takes and public relations disguised as criticism, we’ve tried to craft a site that moves at its own deliberate pace. We’ve interviewed Grammy winners, collected and dissected the best music of the last decade and garnered tens of thousands of listens on our podcast. Now, we’re asking for your support. Before you check out our favorite songs of 2023, please go to our Patreon page and consider chipping in a few bucks. We’ve got perks from custom made playlists to behind the scenes content and are honored to have your support.
1972 - Felipe Gordon
2023 had emotional bangers, songs to cry on the dancefloor with and theses on pleasure principles. But what if you just wanted to groove? Go no further than Bogotá DJ King Filipe Gordon. “1972,” despite the title, would’ve been perfect in Chicago clubs in the 80s, built on an undeniable bassline and bombastic brass hits. Gordon wants to shut out the outside world. No thoughts, head empty, only flawless groove.
Arizona Driveway - Feeling Small
A painful, gorgeous ending written in miniature. I won’t give anything else away.
Best Behavior - Greg Mendez
In what is almost certainly the most devastating opening line of any song from last year, Philadelphia’s Greg Mendez goes straight for the jugular and all the other major arteries on “Best Behavior,” a true bummer of a track that catches the singer red-handed in emotional manipulation and relationship-mind-games: “You’ve got the radio playing / And all I can think is to change it to some shit I hate / ‘Cause it’s better than something that you like.” Jesus, I bet this guy’s fun at parties. Later he says rhetorically, “Sometimes I’m wrong / But I’m on my best behavior / Do you like it?” Keep pumpin’ out the jams, Greg! - Hunter
Go Dig My Grave - Lankum
I once had an Irish roommate who insisted the saddest songs were when no one dies. Death, in his view, granted closure. An end. But what if there was unfinished business and only an empty void left behind?
Dublin’s Lankum make music for hauntings. Combining traditional folk music with the most monstrous fringes of drone and noise, there is a pit of darkness where their heart should be. “Go Dig My Grave” tells the dirge of a suicide and a family left in its wake. No ghosts directly visit the song, but wraiths cling to the side of every note. It is a hard listen, not just for the sadness, but for the raw, nearly evil cacophony that slowly, painfully overtakes the song. The saddest songs are when someone dies, and there is no respite.
The Gods Must Be Crazy - Armand Hammer feat. EL-P
“The Gods Must Be Crazy,“ the third and final single from Armand Hammer’s absolutely essential We Buy Diabetic Test Strips, is the dream collaboration we didn’t know we needed. Like a classic New York jazz trio, Billy Woods, Elucid, and El Producto join forces to highlight what each of them does best, and end up bringing the best out of one another in the process. Jaime “EL-P” Meline has made many kooky beats and produced many a wonderful track over the years, most notably with his partner in mischief, one Killer Mike, over four albums as Run the Jewels; “Gods” instantly joins the ranks as one of his best and most compelling pieces, featuring great samples but never sacrificing his signature sound.
Billy Woods, he of the Slant Rhyme Olympics (who, I’m told, will be getting a full write-up by our effusive editor-in-chief), provides the track’s window dressing with a couple of brief verses that confirms his status as the year’s (or the decade’s?) underground rap hero. He barges in and storms out of the song like a diasporic Aesop Rock, as verbose and clever as he is hilarious and non-sequitur, even making time to invoke the Queen Bey herself (“White women with pepper spray in they purse interpolating Beyoncé / Illegal formations”).
Elucid, however, is the one who emerges bathed in a new light here, embittered from battle but unbothered, hungry, and fun to listen to. He references Mos Def and Erykah Badu in his lyrics (“My six-headed bride / Black on both sides”), but actually sounds a bit like B-Real on the track, adopting a bit of an exaggerated, raspy whine to sell the bigger ideas. The feel bad hit of the year. - HM
Me vs me vs all y’all - Can’t Swim
Keansburg, New Jersey’s golden boys Can’t Swim came back swingin’ this year with their fourth record, Thanks But No Thanks, a winning combination of hyper-melodic, nasal vocals and unapologetically chunky, riffed-out guitars. One of the best cuts comes in the form of “me vs me vs all y’all,” where we find Chris LoPorto cheekily reflecting on gig life and his ambitious efforts to be like other energetic frontmen (“Did my best Eddie Vedder / Then I buckle under pressure,” “Did my best Evan Dando / Where the fuck did the time go?”). In its endless effortless power-pop-punk hooks, the track brings to mind that amazing Barely Civil cut from a few years ago, “You with a Cape, Me with a Baseball Bat.” This one is every bit as poignant, and, thank goodness, every bit as fun. - HM
Spirit 2.0 - Sampha
Is anyone more dedicated to beauty than Sampha? His last album focused on the prettiest moments of sorrow. Now he’s focused on family, warmth, and orchestration that sounds one step from heaven. There are the Immaculate details, tiny cooing Samphas floating like cherubs, skittering drums flickering into view, co-star Yaeji’s bolts of vocals flashing through. But it’s Sampha’s zero-g delivery and Owen Pallett’s cocooning string section that carries him to Eden. “Now I’m drifting into open skies…I ain’t as scared as before,” he smiles. It’s easy enough to cry to a sad song, but “Spirit 2.0” wells with tears of joy and euphoria.
Stare at the Sun - Frost Children
There will be many who prefer the old Frost Children, the Frost Children of yore, the Frost Children of hyperpop pastiche and clanging video-game-speedrun (pun intended) instrumentals and chipmunk-chiptune vocals and production. Well, pal, that was nearly a year ago. The Frost Children of today are refined, sophisticated, nearly tenable, and their second album of 2023, Hearth Room, is an achievement in its own right (though the jury is still out on how longtime fans are handling the changes). The most ambitious (and successful) of this newest batch of songs is “Stare at the Sun,” a wonderfully wacky musical smashburger with some mathcore leanings, some fourth- and fifth-wave emo teachings, a shout-along vocal hook (“I give and I take!”), some bubble noises, some manipulated harps, and a few bleep-bloops for the day-ones. Irresistible and surprisingly smart.
The Window - Ratboys
The Sun was shining and the grass was green. Acoustic guitar is hugged by a low synth shimmer as the birds sing from the trees. This will be the last time Julia Steiner’s grandparents speak. Steiner’s grandmother passed away in 2020. She did not have COVID, but her husband was still forced to say his goodbyes outside through a window. So close, but a world away. Many of the lyrics are direct quotes from Steiner’s grandfather to her grandmother. That may sound like entirely too much, but “The Window” is the rare memorial song that refuses to be a funeral. Steiner sings some truly heartbreaking lines like “I don’t regret a single day and you’re so beautiful” and “Don’t be scared”, but she delivers them like she’s singing to the clear blue sky. There’s a sense of grief that never overwhelms the desire to comfort and celebrate. Together, the band flows through charmingly ragged yet perfectly calibrated power pop. They even have riffs! When I go, make sure there’s riffs.