Ten Songs I Could Not Get Out of My Head

Have you ever heard a song for the first time and halfway through you whisper to yourself with glee, “Oh hell yes” and you play it over and over and don’t want to stop but you have to because Claire finally sent you that deliverable you’ve been waiting for to complete your big project at work and you must focus? Of course you have. That’s what makes discovering and listening to new music so damn awesome.

Sometimes the song checks one or all the boxes of the things you love, whether it’s the perfect fuzzy guitar tone, the pounding floor tom, the vulnerability of the vocals, the subtle harmonies that bring it all together, or the one lyric that completely crushes you. For me lately, it’s the little things I can’t describe, the things that just hit you in the right spot. Here are some straight-up jams that have lived in my head over the past few years. What are yours?

“Out of Sight” by The Beths

A perfect day for me would be going birding and playing some beach cricket with this extremely likable New Zealand foursome and then seeing them live in concert with no tall chatty people standing in front of me. The Beths are top-notch musicians who blend melodic power pop and harmonies with unexpected sonic force. Liz Stokes’ words and delivery on this track perfectly capture the sadness of a lost relationship. “If your world collapses/I’ll be down in the rubble/I’ll build you another…I’ll wait out the summer.”

“At It Again” by Slow Pulp

Just a crusher of an opening line that hooked me from the get-go, “Oh c’mon, please, don’t take it back.” Emily Massey’s understated yet captivating vocals blend oh so comfortably with the crunchy shoegaze guitar and while I want the song to go on forever and ever, the two-minute run time is perfection.

“Sense” by Terry Hall

Shameless Self-promotion Alert: I discuss my obsession with this song in a recent episode of our beloved podcast (44-minute mark). Cowritten by Terry Hall (The Specials, Fun Boy Three, and The Colourfield,) and Ian Broudie (The Lightning Seeds), they both put out stellar versions of this song back in the early 90s. I prefer Terry’s version though—his voice is tailor-made for this song—and I still get a dopamine hit when the chorus and backing vocals kick in after this epic opening verse:

“I’m flying high on something beautiful and aimless
It’s got a name but I prefer to call it nameless
It comes and goes, leaves me on a bed of splinters
Feels like I’m living in a town closed down for winter”

“Not The Time” by Sasami

Sasami’s slightly quivering delivery of the last line floors me every single time.

“Over & Out” by Pile of Love

Punks forming side projects to play dreamy pop goodness is now a thing and I LOVE IT. From the band’s Bandcamp page: “Pop rock immediacy, off-kilter indie quirks, and even a touch of shoegaze textures to form a sound that’s instantly satisfying.” Sign me up!

“Cicada” by Fucked Up

I’ve listened to this song a hundred times and there are three or four lines that always make this never-cry tough guy well up quite a bit (kidding, I’m a real softie!).

Watch the video on YouTube, it’s a stunner.

“Trauma Bonds” by High Vis

Like the aforementioned “Cicada,” this heart-tugger deals with loss. High Vis is a London-based five-piece band that blends hardcore with melodic punk and a very welcomed throwback Madchester vibe.

“The Thangs I Carry (feat. BEARCAT)” by Soul Glo 

Turn it up and behold this soul-cleansing blast of hardcore that has been on every running playlist I’ve made since its debut in 2020. The calming therapeutic guest vocals of DJ Bearcat come out of nowhere, contrasting the maelstrom of screams, and creating an experience I look forward to every single time it erupts from my earbuds.

“Don’t Send My Love” by Film School

Looking for a sad song with a serious groove and a hypnotic chorus to get stuck in your head for a year? This is it.

“Off Off On” (the entire album) by This Is The Kit

Kate Stables makes emotive and complex folk rock just for me but I am willing to share. This 2020 album is an 11-song no-skip vibe, a masterful mix of ominous mystery and comforting warmth. I think it’s my most-played record in the past three years (I don’t keep stats) and I recommend playing it in bed with eyes closed after a spot of tea.