So, here we are again. Another year ends and so, as sure as night follows day, another year-end list.
But this is no ordinary year-end list. It’s a year-end list by your favourite music website compiling the best songs of another packed 12 months and, as such, demands your respect and consideration.
We would say that of course, but there’s no denying it’s been a year to remember, not least for what was a devastating winter for music fans. To list but some of the fallen: Martin Duffy, Terry Hall, Maxi Jazz (who all passed away in late 2022 after last year’s article was published), Jeff Beck, Lisa Marie Presley, Robbie Bachman, David Crosby, Tom Verlaine, Burt Bacharach, David Jude Jolicoeur and Steve Mackey were all cruelly taken from the world before the first taste of spring.
Harry Belafonte, Pete Brown, Andy Rourke, Tina Turner, Tony Bennett, Sinead O’Connor, John Gosling, Robbie Robertson, Gary Young, Rudolph Isley, Mars Williams, Shane MacGowan and Denny Laine all followed in what was an especially brutal year. Heroes and memory-makers all, we remember them fondly.
Losses to a music industry that is making more money than ever yet – much like society – the disparity in distribution grows ever wider. Spotify continues to pay musicians a pittance (and treat their staff equally as badly) yet generates record revenues, while Bandcamp – once the refuge of artists – was bought out and immediately laid off 50% of their staff, which bodes ill for the treatment of creatives.
Meanwhile, live music continues to soar at arena level upwards, yet grassroots venues continue to receive minimal assistance. The legendary Moles in Bath is the latest victim, having been forced to close its doors permanently due to rising overheads. We can but hope that Steve Lamacq’s new role as chair of LIVE (the voice of the UK’s live music sector) is a catalyst for the realignment of wealth.
Elsewhere, The Rolling Stones released their best album in 40 years, even if they were soon upstaged by The Beatles (again), while Ezra Collective were deserved winners of the Mercury Music Prize. Arctic Monkeys delivered a masterclass/alienated some of their less discerning fanbase (delete as appropriate) on their first-ever stadium tour, and iconic bands Pulp and Blur added to their respective legends with some huge shows across the summer.
Even by his own lofty standards, Damon Albarn had a vintage year with two stellar singles, one each by his two (main) bands. Silent Running was a high point on Gorillaz’s Cracker Island (itself one of their best albums) while Blur’s comeback single The Narcissist had a middle-age melancholia which brought a tear to the eye while recalling their classics such as This Is A Low and The Universal.
Albarn’s former sparring partner Noel Gallagher released his fourth studio early in the summer and, despite the ongoing and boring rumours about Oasis, proved himself to becoming ever more accomplished. While bona fide anthem Easy Now sits comfortably alongside his biggest tunes, with a heart-swelling chorus, the album (Council Skies) consolidated his new blend of cosmic pop and good old-fashioned songwriting.
Fellow 90’s icons slowdive made a strong return after 6 years with the hazy, spectral Kisses leading the charge while simultaneously floating on the breeze, and Steve Mason’s hymnal Pieces Of Me was also a career highlight for the former Beta Band man.
Meanwhile, Bill Ryder-Jones looks set for a prosperous 2024 with impending new album Iechyd Da getting rave reviews already. The windswept, grandiose This Can’t Go On is a fitting opening salvo, its Walker Brothers-infused majesty improving with every listen.
Speaking of big returns, M83 was back with a bang, as the godfathers of that dreamy electro-pop that MGMT and Tame Impala ran with returned to reclaim their throne with the magnificent Oceans Niagara. Occupying a different place in the electro sphere, Floating Points maintained their track record of thudding, consciously other-worldly electronica with Birth4000 which, as if to hammer home the point, very nearly becomes the Doctor Who theme-tune (never a bad place to go). Meanwhile the rebranded Scaler proffered some more grumpy, grizzled-yet-gargantuan beats on the laser-sharp New Symbols.
Haiku Hands’ Cool For You was an old-school, enthusiastic electronic rave that bristled with youth and vibrancy, like a contemporary Chemical Brothers (an admittedly unnecessary comparison as they are doing fine themselves, thank you very much) while the sheer ambition and ear-splitting synths of D.O.D. (DAMEFRISØR) contrasted well against the heartfelt vocals.
Back in the indie realm, despite fooling everyone into believing he (and his band) were taking some well-overdue time off, Grian Chatten quietly dispatched one of the albums of the year. First single Fairlies was – despite its basic chord structure – incessantly catchy with a mini hurricane of a chorus. Fontaines D.C. may have preferred it to be a band effort, but Chatten’s songwriting cup is so obviously overflowing at present.
Shoegazers bdrmm took a big step forward with It’s Just A Bit Of Blood, the laconic guitar lick giving way to a beastly beat of towering vocals and rollicking guitars. But largely, most of the interesting guitar music in 2023 came from a new breed.
Italia 90 were the first out of the blocks back in January, all post/doom punk and acerbic lyrics befitting the winter months, with the grinding rhythm of Harmony closing their debut album, but is an opus all its own. Treeboy & Arc were equally antagonistic about 21st century Britain, raging against ‘first world problems’ and society in general on Retirement.
Skin by Egyptian Blue covered as much ground as Italia 90 but in about half the time, their manipulation of the guitar conveyed an effortless cool, while I Don’t Feel (Saloon Dion) was vibrant, forked and purposeful. It shared much with The Guilt by Screensaver, not least the impassioned vocals and browbeating guitars, although the dance-floor-ready rhythm and new-wave futurism came from a different place entirely. Likewise Folly Group, whose superb Big Ground had the scratchy feel of a lost Gang Of Four classic, with added dub and psych-rock. Another group who can be very optimistic about their immediate future.
There was much talk of indie sleaze making a comeback (thanks to anniversaries and the much-delayed release of Meet Me In The Bathroom) and Dance Now by Girl And Girl could have been lifted straight from the era. Loose in hi-hat but steadfast in snare, it had a melody The Rapture would have sunk their teeth into. In contrast, the cavernous Approachable dealt with the displacement head-on (‘I was born in the wrong era’) and was bulky, high-octane rock music but a message for its creators Gurriers: Queens Of The Stone Age called. They want their riff back.
Best title of the year surely goes to English Teacher with The World’s Biggest Paving Slab, yet it deserves more accolades than that. Grizzly chords on the verse give way to an ethereal, life-affirming chorus on the reworked song (written back in 2018). The Leeds group initially released a lo-fi version of the song during the pandemic, but the 2023 version provides the scale such a wondrous piece of music deserves.
In contrast, Mitski’s fragile Bug Like An Angel is nearly imperceptible until a choir burst soothingly into the chorus, cleansing the soul, while We Can Be Anything by Baby Queen was an exhilarating, righteous slice of pop music. Similarly carefree was Dirty Queen (Dutch Mustard), a sarcastic love story dressed up in luscious sonics, while CMAT’s Where Are Your Kids Tonight? fizzed with equal confidence. Both were maximalist pop and asserted the theory that great pop consists of dark lyrics, with the latter featuring some added John Grant for extra emphasis.
Who can dispute that it was Young Fathers’ year and we just happened to live through it? We could have picked any track from Heavy Heavy but – today – we’ve opted for the scattered, melodic, urgent, itchy, compassionate but (above all else), titanically percussive Drum. On any given day it could be any other of their songs; a truly timeless act. Unlike Chop by Revival Season, which felt like a lost relic from the golden age of hip-hop, all big beats, superb scratching and sublime flow.
Yet there can be only one, and Live4ever’s Song Of The Year goes to DOOLALLY by Hak Baker. A perfect blend of reggae, punk and grime, the Londoner takes the best bits from The Clash, The Streets, The Specials and Chic, yet makes a track completely of his own sound, recalling a few hours and a night out in the life of a young man in 2023. We don’t think the late, great Shane MacGowan had this song in mind, but we couldn’t have put it better ourselves:
“Cram as much pleasure as you can into life and rail against the pain that you have to suffer as a result.”
Click here for Live4ever’s Top 20 albums and tracks of the year
