Ten Songs From 2023 You Otter Know
Even though no one asked!
This is Ottavia Paluch and you’re reading Things You Otter Know.
I received some of the most unbelievable compliments of my life after last week’s somewhat big announcement and I will hold them close to my heart forever. ICYMI you can read my last post here!
Below I give you ten of my favourite songs of the year in no particular order. It's been a ridiculously busy week so I figured I’d use this Substack as a reprieve.
I didn’t listen to a crazy ton of new music this year. (I’ll try to be more on top of things in 2024, but I say that every year.) I’ll do my best to highlight songs in around 100 words, songs that weren’t major smashes but that might make the rest of your year a little better. So no 2023 TIME Person of the Year Taylor Swift. But we’ve talked about her loads already.
Mile End, “Avarice”
Kicking things off with a barnstormer from the kickass Ontario hardcore scene, which I’m usually on top of but this year it just didn’t happen. That should show you how much I love Mile End. They’re from Brampton, so we’re basically neighbours. And when my scene homie Nate told me they had dropped this thing, I dropped everything and listened. The musicianship on display here is unreal. Their drummer’s written some of the most creative, chest-pounding parts I’ve ever heard, and that streak continues on “Avarice.” These dudes need to blow up so I can scream along to this thing with other people.
Arkells, “Laundry PIle”
Here’s a Canadian band that falls on the opposite end of the heaviness scale. Arkells have long been the biggest band in Canada, and with every album they move further into trashy pop territory. But “Laundry Pile” is a complete left turn—easily the quietest thing they’ve ever made. For the first time, they’ve put out a lead single that isn’t trying to take over radio. Frontman Max Kerman’s voice manages to conjure up a legit, uncontrived solemness. If only they made more songs as good as this. Maybe we wouldn’t pile on them so much for being sellouts.
Fiddlehead, “Sullenboy”
I’ve already told you about Fiddlehead because I was going to see them in October but that never materialized. They’re a supergroup from Boston, but they’ve always tried to sound like their own thing, and in doing so have made some of the most passionate post-hardcore around. This is the lead single from Death is Nothing to Us, an album I’ll likely say a little about next weekend. It’s a three-minute firecracker. The chorus just pops in a way that gets me riled up every time. Those snare flams send me to another dimension. These dudes rule.
Fireworks, “I Want to Start a Religion With You”
I had never heard of Fireworks until this song dropped and Hanif Abdurraqib called it one of the best he’d ever heard. “Just for once, take some time for me / Jesus died at 33” is the funniest lyric of the year. “I Want to Start A Religion With You” somehow balances the mundane with the big-picture in both lyrics and sound. It’s really getting at how difficult it can feel to connect with people sometimes, whether that be a lover, or a religious figure—anyone, really. And to make a song this good out of that pain. Man!
Squirrel Flower, “Alley Light”
I’m fighting the urge to make a Travis Kelce joke and call her Squirle Flower because Ella Williams deserves more respect than that. Her songwriting feels borderline Americana in the best way. And the lyrics here are great, of course. The way she structures the story here gives it this pastoral, mythic feel. But I’m mainly in love with the sonics of this thing. These beautifully constructed hazes. This ridiculously tasteful guitar tone and solo. Next time you’re on a road trip, put this song on, or even all of Tomorrow’s Fire, and just let it evaporate you.
Margot Liotta, “Planet Song”
I spend little time on TikTok. I refuse to let the algorithm consume me the way it has for everyone else. But when it showed me a clip of Margot Liotta singing “Saw you dizzy-dancing in a dream / Do you remember me?” I had to investigate further. Liotta makes great use of…wait for it…space. Listen carefully to how she turns every guitar note into a nebula, or how her backing vocals start echoing near the end, careening out towards the universe. There’s such care in this thing that it feels like an insult to call it a TikTok song. Go Margot!
Noah Kahan, “Dial Drunk”
Y’all remember Passenger? He had that huge song about how you only know you love her when you let her go, but now you couldn’t pick him out of a lineup of John Mayers. When Noah Kahan blew up, neither “Stick Season” nor “Northern Attitude” grabbed me, so I dismissed him as another Passenger. Then “Dial Drunk” happened, and suddenly I understood. He’s his own thing, a very good songwriter for our times. It’s catchy songs like this that convince you as to why he’s playing arenas next year and serving as the face of our current stomp-pop revival.
Paramore, “Liar”
This is my favourite song on This is Why, and this is why: I think it’s beautiful. The album I found sorta hit-or-miss, but “Liar” hits. Check out the Song Exploder episode on this song when you get a chance. It’s about singer Hayley Williams’s denial of falling in love with band member and now-partner Taylor York, fighting her feelings, afraid she was wrong to feel them. “Love is not a weakening / If you feel it rushing in / Don’t be ashamed of it” she sings. Lord knows we all have moments where we need to say something like that to ourselves.
Mitski, “I’m Your Man”
I’ll save my praise of TLIIASAW for later, but everyone mentions “My Love Mine All Mine” as the standout. I never see anyone stick up for “I’m Your Man,” so I’ll happily pick up the slack. This is the best song called “I’m Your Man,” Leonard Cohen be damned. “So when you leave me, I should die / I deserve it, don’t I?” is one of the most gutting lyrics I’ve ever heard. It’s as if she’s walking though a dark forest and only her subconscious knows the pathway home. This song is special. You wish it lasted forever.
Olivia Rodrigo, “teenage dream”
I first listened to GUTS on the subway the day it came out, five days before I turned 20 and was forced to end my teens. I felt like the protagonist in a Bildungsroman. We reached Museum when the last track, “teenage dream,” came on. It was just quiet enough that I could make it out. “Got your whole life ahead of you, you're only nineteen,” Olivia sang over some soft piano chords, “but I fear that they already got all the best parts of me / and I'm sorry that I couldn't always be your teenage dream.” I nearly cried.
Albums next week. Then books. Then I rant to you about 2023. And then it’s 2024! Thanks for reading. Happy holiday shopping, Otters.