The List 2023

Welcome

Hello and welcome to The List: my top 20 albums of 2023. This is a tradition that dates back to the year 2000.

Hope you enjoy this iteration, you can find links to previous years at the end.

20 // Be Your Own Pet // Mommy

After 15 years away, it’s so lovely to have Be Your Own Pet back. What’s more, album #3 is an unexpectedly excellent return. Incredible to think that the last time they made this List was with their debut, all the way back in 2006 (coincidentally, also placing at #20 that year). Mommy is full of the same charismatic, inventive punk that Be Your Own Pet were masters of in the late 2000s. It’s as vibrant and vitriolic as ever, but alongside the familiar swings at the patriarchy and corporate greed are new targets such as middle-aged responsibility (‘Goodtime!’) and rose-tinted nostalgia (‘Teenage Heaven’). Be Your Own Pet are not pretending the last 15 years didn’t happen, but they’re also careful not slip into comfortability. Expertly produced and musically tight (see the album’s best track, the mid-tempo ‘Rubberist’, which is wound like a spring and deliberately never quite unfurls), Mommy is a fine comeback.

19 // Jadu Heart // Derealised

On their fourth album, Jadu Heart have perfected their blend of dreamy synth pop and indie shoegaze. Derealised is a record that glides and shimmers its way into your consciousness. It rewards patience and I definitely need to be in the right (i.e., chilled) mood for its charms to land. Not to say it’s soporific – in fact there are more crescendos than one might first realise (take ‘Cocoon’, which is more Bombay Bicycle Club than Slowdive). There are also some scuzzier elements (see ‘Freedom’, especially its grungy opening, or ‘I Shimmer’), which give the overall floaty experience a little edge. That said, this record has been produced to within an inch of its life. That was probably the right approach given the whole, but it does mean the fussier edges don’t hit as hard as they could have. In any event, Derealised features consistently excellent songwriting, meticulous construction and production, and a dollop of heart, and that’s a pretty strong combination. It’s the duo’s best work so far.

18 // Pony // Velveteen

Pony’s debut record from a couple of years ago, TV Baby, was a great helping of bubblegum fun, but after a few spins I moved on. This sophomore record – while still carved from the same giant marshmallow mountain – has much more to it. As a result, Velveteen has stayed in my rotation since May. The lyrics are consistently more interesting than one might expect for sugar pop-rock (‘break my spine just to prove I have one’; ‘look at me, I’m trying, bit my tongue while I was lying’). And there’s also much greater variety in the music than there was on album #1. Opener (and standout track) ‘Très Jolie’ is a representative punky joy, but there are also mid-tempo diversions (‘Haunted House’; ‘Haircut’) and some genuine eccentricity (see ‘French Class’). Overall, I expected Velveteen to be a fun dalliance for a day or two, but instead it has found its way here, onto the hallowed turf of The List.

17 // Haken // Fauna

At this point Haken are a very well-established progressive rock/metal act, with a loud and loyal fanbase. But while I’d heard of them and knew one or two tracks, I don’t think I’d ever even played a whole album of theirs through before this one. No idea why, but a couple of the tracks that were made available ahead of Fauna – their seventh full-length – came into my orbit last Christmas, so I was already looking forward to this record ahead of its release in March. I know that Fauna has split the fanbase, some of whom see it as too djent-y and overly ‘modern’ compared to Haken’s previous 80s-prog inspired releases – but I don’t have a dog in that back catalogue race, so I’ve just enjoyed Fauna on its own terms. In the best traditions of prog, the record is heavily produced but is also wilfully dense and impenetrable. ‘Elephants Never Forget’, for example, veers from Queen operatics, through chugging stoner metal riffs, and (two – count them!) Slash-style wailing solos, over the course of 11 discombobulating minutes. And that’s just one track: there are eight others. Haken are never going to be megastars because they’re too weird even for most rock music fans; plus, in some respects, they are self-consciously anachronistic. But that’s kinda the fun.

16 // King Tuff // Smalltown Stardust

The previous record from Kyle Thomas’ long running King Tuff project – 2018’s The Other – was something of a soft reset, shifting away from Thomas’ garage rock / stoner rock roots and moving into mellower territory. Five years on, this latest (crucially, post-lockdown) offering continues on that path but goes much further, totally abandoning those roots. Instead of garage rock, Smalltown Stardust is a psyche-tinged guitar pop record with its feet firmly in the late 60s and early 70s. It features, for example, beat-combo jamming on the lovely ‘Portrait of God’ (McCartney, in particular, would be proud), and Simon and Garfunkel acousticing on the morose ‘Pebbles in a Stream’. It’s worth being clear that Smalltown Stardust is more than just homage, though. For instance, the opening to ‘The Bandits of Blue Sky’ is nostalgia rock through a shiny 2023 lens, and nobody could accuse the minimal ‘Always Find Me’ of being ‘retro’. Nonetheless, reminders of the record’s basis in the flower power era are never too far away. The results are beautiful and heartfelt, if not exactly groundbreaking. This is comfortably my favourite King Tuff record – the new direction clearly suits Thomas – and there’s scope here (with some more risks taken) to create something really special on future releases.

15 // Where Mermaids Drown // Reminisce

It’s usually the case that some post-rock makes it onto this List somewhere. My favourite post-rock album of 2023 (by a distance) is this expansive offering by French band Where Mermaids Drown. The most memorable elements of Reminisce, for me at least, are situated at the heavier end of post-rock: indeed, on occasion the album veers pretty close to post-metal. However, the majority of Reminisce is actually dialled back to much more subdued, delicate mood-building – which is, I suppose, why the heavier moments land so impressively. Quiet or loud, it’s all emotionally driven and exploratory in the best traditions of the genre. Explosions in the Sky (a much more established post-rock band that released an album this year that’s nowhere near as good as this one) are a touchstone, albeit only in part. The one notable misstep of the poetry recital at the end of the opening track aside, this is pretty flawless stuff. Along with And So I Watch You from Afar’s Jettison from last year and MONO’s Innocence from the year before, Reminisce is likely to be on the shortlist for my favourite post-rock record of the decade, come 2030. A list that, admittedly, I am highly unlikely to write.

14 // Palehound // Eye on the Bat

While overall it ranks as a slight disappointment given how much I loved Palehound’s previous record, Black Friday (#5 on this List in 2019), Eye on the Bat is still a wonderful album full of unpredictable, diaristic reflections on lost love and, as is a regular motif for El Kempner, feelings of inadequacy. The record is deeply emotional, but also, often, funny, and – less often but occasionally – very sweet. Kempner’s voice is as ‘real’ and raw as it always has been, and their carefully crafted songs are, once again, beautiful slices of indie rock. Musically, Eye on the Bat is perhaps a little mellower than Black Friday, and I think that might explain why it hasn’t chimed for me quite as much. It also treads some similar ground to another artist on this List (see below!), but does so slightly less well, and the comparison may have hurt it somewhat. Whenever I play Eye on the Bat I adore it, but I haven’t chosen to play it as much as I was expecting prior to its release, or anywhere near as much as I played its predecessor. All of which helps explain the bottom half placing. Nonetheless, this is still another great record from Kempner, who is carving out an impressive singer-songwriter niche for Gen Z lost souls.

13 // Illiterate Light // Sunburned

Released in January, the sophomore effort by Virginia-based two-piece Illiterate Light has demonstrated impressive staying power throughout the whole of 2023. A complex indie rock record, fused with garage, dance-rock, shoegaze, and some genre-defying experimentation (what exactly is happening on ‘Heaven Bends’?), Sunburned is big school. There’s minimal lo-fi (on the likes of ‘Fuck LA’) right through to full orchestra-backed grandiloquence (see opener ‘Wake Up Now’). Also of note is that fact that are some (unexpected) quality riffs to be had here are there too, for those who like that sort of thing (i.e., me). But rocking out is never the true focus here. Instead, Illiterate Light are more interested in leading us on a journey through desperation and disappointment, across a range of musical styles. It’s all hugely impressive. Sunburned is not exactly a ‘fun’ record, though, and its changes in direction mean it is something of a moving target (musically, if not emotionally), which can be difficult if you’re not giving it the entirety of your attention.

12 // Fox Stevenson // Enemy Brain Entertainment Suite

I’d not come across Fox Stevenson before, and so Enemy Brain Entertainment Suite – which is his second album – was a real find at the start of the year. Like Illiterate Light’s Sunburned, the fact it has stayed in rotation for 11 months is testament to its merits. Indeed, a List placing was never in doubt from the moment I heard it. Mixing poppy early 2000s emo rock with urgent (but still poppy) drum and bass beats, Stevenson has crafted a sound that is unique and vibrant. Musically, Enemy Brain Entertainment Suite is an upbeat affair that’s pretty much guaranteed to get your wiggle on. Instead of matching that with similarly sunny lyrics, though, Stevenson instead delivers a dark account of personal demons and the horrors of modern living as a young adult. It’s a bold juxtaposition that turns Enemy Brain Entertainment Suite from throwaway dancey fun into something much richer. There are a few weaker tracks here and there on the record (closer ‘Bring a Coat’, for one, slams the breaks on a little too hard), which have ultimately cost it a place in the top ten. But tracks like the rousing ‘Victory Over Truth’ and the flawless ‘Get Through’ amount to some of the best dance pop I’ve heard in years.

11 // Blondshell // Blondshell

Sabrina Teitelbaum’s debut album in her new Blondshell persona builds on the last three decades of anti-misogynist female rock, evoking the likes of PJ Harvey and Hole, but with a melodic twist and some lo-fi lethargy. Gone is the dodgy trend pop Teitelbaum previously released as BAUM, which I have only visited retrospectively having fallen for Blondshell and won’t be visiting again. With the decision to write the music she wants, for herself and not some imagined audience, Teitelbaum has found her voice. And that voice is raw, witty, and vengeful. There is certainly some shared DNA here with Palehound’s Eye on the Bat, although Blondshell is the more abrasive of the two records. It mines themes like substance abuse, self-harm, violence, and empowerment to powerful effect, but it also is packed full of sly, unique humour and pop culture references. Musically unfussy but precise and contagious, this debut album heralds Blondshell’s arrival as a bona fide star, who can balance Jimmy Fallon appearances with Gen Z street cred. Such a shame I was too ill to go and see her at the show I had a ticket for in October. Ah, well. Next time.

10 // H. Hawkline // Milk for Flowers

Less wilfully quirky than his previous work, which could occasionally veer into the annoying: Huw Evans’ fifth record as H. Hawkline is his best. Make no mistake, it’s still an idiosyncratic affair. Evans is too weird for it not to be, and producer (and fellow oddball) Cate Le Bon’s own brand of different is also an important ingredient on Milk for Flowers. But instead of opaque artistic flourishes being the primary aim, here H. Hawkline is, for the most part, interested in reflecting on the death of his mother. As such Milk for Flowers is not exactly laugh-a-minute stuff. There is some welcome, if dark, humour here and there, though, and amidst the grief there’s also space devoted to the theme of living one’s life joyously while one can. Musically, this is fragile but passionate nu folk, albeit with restrained injections of electro pop, psyche, indie and at times a hint of something approaching R&B/soul. Evans has a unique voice, which fittingly quivers its way through these (at times almost surreal) reflections on loss. Milk for Flowers is an emotional and authentic ride.

09 // Metallica // 72 Seasons

Metallica’s 11th studio album (of original material, anyway) is a triumph this far into their career, albeit a somewhat qualified one. 72 Seasons is a really excellent thrash record that, of course, is much more than just a thrash record. A big helping of doomy chug metal is also in the mix, as is a dollop of classic rock (the bridge from ‘Screaming Suicide’ doesn’t just call to mind Deep Purple’s ‘Speed King’, it flat out steals from it). For Metallica fans who yearn for the band’s pre-MTV 80s era, this is the closest they’ve sounded to it since, and – given that fact – it’s to their massive credit that 72 Seasons is nonetheless a relevant metal record in 2023 and not just a nostalgia trip. This is the sound of the genre’s biggest of big daddies truly enjoying their work again. And when 72 Seasons pings, man it really pings. ‘Lux Æterna’, in particular, is my favourite Metallica track for almost 30 years, but it’s not the only track on this record that is up there with their best work. However, overall, 72 Seasons is still some way behind the band’s early masterpieces that it evokes. And because I’m one of the few people who adores Metallica’s 90s bluesy period (especially Load) and perhaps the only person (the band included) who loves their 2003’s groove metal oddity St Anger, I don’t like 72 Seasons as much as those records either. Ultimately, what has allowed Metallica to endure for so long is that they’ve continually evolved and had different eras and influences. They’re the metal Bowie, the heavy music Madonna. In that context, for all its (notable) qualities, 72 Seasons is still a little too… predictable. And that means I’ve ended up considering it to be mid-table Metallica. Of course, it underlines how important this band are to me that mid-table Metallica still equates to a record I’ve played a significant number of times this year and a top 10 finish.

08 // EYES // Congratulations

Operating somewhere in the borderlands of hardcore and metalcore, the third record by little-known Danish lunatics EYES is an absolute doozie. One of the very best heavy music records of the year (placing on this List just above, who was it again… oh, yeah, Metallica), Congratulations is a simple, feral explosion. As is the norm in hardcore, EYES mix mid-tempo wallops with frenetic punk speed to build the dynamics of their tracks, but they’re doing it better than anyone else right now (NB: their closest rivals riding the latest wave of hardcore, GEL, didn’t quite make this List, but their 2023 record is also well worth your time). EYES chuck in some metal riffs for good measure, as on the standout title track or (the ‘b’ heavy) ‘Bbbbbbbliss’. The rhythm section pummels away relentlessly throughout (good luck, eardrums). The dual guitarists mix things up quite a bit for a hardcore band (harmonics? I think I will, thanks). And Victor Kass’ vocals are delightfully demented (note to self for the unlikely occasion of ever meeting him: run, that man is unhinged). By the end of the first quarter of 2023 Congratulations was my record of the year by some considerable distance. It’s obviously waned a bit since then, but a top 10 finish is still impressive stuff for a band with almost no presence outside of Copenhagen that I’d not heard of at all a year ago. Pow!

07 // Kerala Dust // Violet Drive

Kerala Dust’s decision to ditch London and move to Berlin has had an obvious effect on their work. One review I read called Violet Drive a ‘deeply European album’, which I’m fairly sure was intended as an insult, but – while a correct assessment – in this case is certainly a compliment. Lo-fi dance-indie remains Kerala Dust’s essential formula, but Violet Drive has a darker hue than previous releases, and splashes of krautrock and euro pop have been added to the blend. There is a good deal of variation to this record but it’s also cohesive and focused. Standout tracks include the insistent, hypnotic beats of ‘Pulse VI’, which will drill its way into any head. The Portishead-esque trip hop of ‘Future Visions’ is another joy: you can almost hear the smoky haze surrounding the band. My favourite track of all here is the mixture of delicate bluesy guitars and brass bombast on ‘Red Light’. That one is just yum. Edmund Kelly’s hushed, dusky drawl is the glue that holds it all together, but it is arguably Harvey Grant on keys who is Kerala Dust’s MVP. His simple but consistently interesting work on the (electronic) ivories is what elevates Violet Drive into something special, adding texture and depth to the crafted hooks. Violet Drive is the sound of three Englishmen wanting you to have the time of your life in a dirty Berlin basement. No strings attached.

06 // Metric // Formentera II

Formentera came third on my List last year, and it has only continued to grow in my estimation since. I’d now consider it my second favourite record of 2022 and, as it happens, also my second favourite record of the 2020s so far (4 years in). That’s a lot to live up to, and there’s no question that this year’s sequel suffered by direct comparison, at least initially. In some ways I wish Metric had just called it something else. Because although it still has their usual brand of synthy indie rock at its core, Formentera II is not merely more Formentera. Which perhaps is to their credit. Thematically much more personal and, correspondingly, less propulsive musically (at least when viewed as a whole), this is a somewhat different beast. And, as a consequence of its approach and style, it is a record of less immediate joys. With a bit time, I’ve discovered those joys, though, and they are many. Formentera II is another exceptional record, and it is well worthy of its place on the very edge of this year’s top 5. It’s also the most recent release to make this List, so it has got there pretty quickly, and I suspect it may well keep growing in my estimation. Every single track is excellent, and perfectly crafted. Highlights like the lament of ‘Stone Window’ or the dreamy nostalgia of ‘Who Would You be for Me’ are light years ahead of most bands. And yet. Formentera II isn’t Formentera. It would, though, be wholly unreasonable to consider a record this consistently fantastic as a ‘disappointment’, so I’ll simply categorise it as another wonderful offering from a band at the very top of their game.

05 // Therapy? // Hard Cold Fire

I’ve realised over the last few years that Therapy? are my favourite band of all time, pound for pound. In part that’s because of the longevity, for me, of the four truly exceptional records that they put out in the 90s, but it’s also because they have consistently produced high quality and varied output for such a long time since their heyday. It’s been ages since they’ve been quite this good, though. Album #16 is their best work since album #10, Never Apologise Never Explain, which came second on this List all the way back in 2004. The pandemic meant that Hard Cold Fire has arrived after the longest wait ever for a new Therapy? record – 5 years – and they’ve used the time well. Hard Cold Fire is a lean, focused album, which is the most unified ‘piece of work’ the band have crafted in well over a decade. The riffs are direct, and the choruses are simple and catchy. Therapy? have certainly been much more experimental than this but rarely as tight and instant. Lyrically as fantastic as ever, opener ‘They Shoot the Terrible Master’ is a class struggle statement of intent, while ‘Two Wounded Animals’ is a slowed-down lament to the loss of human dignity amidst our collapsing healthcare system. Andy Cairns builds on the passion that he (re)found on 2018’s Cleave but uses it here to greater effect. Hard Cold Fire fizzes with purpose. While it is still a long way behind their masterpieces, no other band could put out something even close to being this good for their sixteenth record.

04 // Phoxjaw // notverynicecream

The debut album by Bristol’s Phoxjaw, Royal Swan, came a close second on this List in 2020, and if I was writing my 2020 List again today, I suspect it’d top it. I’ve had to wait a long while for this follow up: it was originally due in autumn 2022 after a couple of mouthwatering preview tracks that summer. But then just before release Daniel Garland was – it turned out falsely – accused of some pretty serious crimes on social media. The label pulled the record and almost all of the band’s promotional and live bookings were axed overnight. After months, and, eventually, retractions, a raft of apologies, and some substantial compensation paid to Garland, we finally got notverynicecream in late May. This is not the place to engage with the extremely difficult balance to be struck between ensuring victims are always believed when they speak out and the essentialness of presumed innocence until proven guilt, but the fact that Phoxjaw are still dogged by recurring falsehoods in cyberspace speaks to the dangers of cancel culture. Anyway… notverynicecream turned out to be a weird twisting metal record that – surprise! – isn’t always a metal record at all, and which repeatedly shows its bare bum to convention and confounds expectations. While notverynicecream is perhaps less consistent than Royal Swan (especially in its final third), its best moments are better than anything on its predecessor. It’s certainly a more original and ambitious record, chucking all kinds of things into the mix and worrying little about whether all of it necessarily works. For all its weirdness, though, there’s a through line of surprisingly catchy choruses on show. There are also some punishing riffs, screamo howls, Vampire Weekend-style white-boy reggae, and a big helping of discordant trumpets. Lyrically, the record swings from the disturbed to the very, very silly, which is disarming even after multiple listens. Although far from a direct comparator, the band that notverynicecream calls to my mind most is System of a Down, and especially their freewheeling 1998 debut. Phoxjaw have the same lack of caution and a comparable idiosyncrasy. That idiosyncrasy means this record will definitely not be everyone’s cup of tea. But you never know: why not try it? notverynicecream is unlike any other record this (or any) year – it makes Haken’s Fauna seem decidedly middle of the road, for example – and that fact alone means it is surely worth a spin.

03 // Margaret Glaspy // Echo the Diamond

I’d not even heard of California born/Brooklyn based Margaret Glaspy at the start of 2023, so this wonderful album is a find. Glaspy perhaps isn’t all that interested in tearing up any rule books here, but absolutely every aspect of Echo the Diamond exudes quality and class. There’s not a single misstep, and the result is massively impressive. I’ve played it pretty consistently since I first heard it in the summer. This is a record of grown-up songwriter indie rock, with a variety underpinning influences ranging from blues to grunge. The guitars in particular really sound incredible in the production. Worth noting that Glaspy co-produced herself, along with her partner and fellow troubadour, Julian Lange (aside, there was a good EP from him this year too, albeit that it was a bit too ‘jazz’ for my taste). The guitar lines are inventive and original without ever going too far off piste: the precision of Glaspy’s playing is exceptional. Lyrically, the more emotional songs on Echo the Diamond – rooted in grief, predominantly – are offset by some humorous, if usually sharp-edged, social commentary. By rights Margaret Glaspy should now be looking at household name status, because Echo the Diamond hits the sweet spot between accessible and inventive. Very much looking forward to seeing her live in a tiny room in early February 2024. Might well be the last time she plays those sorts of venues.

02 // Nation of Language // Strange Disciple

I’ve enjoyed the work of 80s synth revivalists Nation of Language before: in particular their debut, Introduction, Presence, which very nearly made this List in 2020. But on album #3 they’ve gone absolutely supernova. Kicking off with one of my favourite tracks of the year, the utterly compelling ‘Weak in Your Light’, Strange Disciple is jammed full of catchy, minimal electro pop gems, all of which are instant classics. Nation of Language aren’t coy about their 80s influences, but they are also operating well beyond nostalgia. In fact, I prefer this record to anything by the New Romantic artists that it builds upon. Beyond ‘Weak in Your Light’ – which, to reiterate, is just chef’s kiss – other highlights are the guitar-propelled ‘Surely I Can’t Wait’ and the frenetic ‘Stumbling Still’. But every song here is an absolute winner. Strange Disciple’s hooks are predominantly to be found in Aidan Noell’s flawless work on the keyboards (catchy but somehow always off-centre), but it is singer Ian Devaney’s astounding voice that really takes the record to the next level. The fact that Devaney can perfectly replicate his vocal performance on this record live (as demonstrated by a wonderful show in Bristol in September, which I was fortunate enough to be at) is a great bonus. Quality inhabits every sinew of Strange Disciple, and despite having liked some of Nation of Language’s stuff before, it’s fair to say that this level of excellence was unexpected. What a nice surprise.

The first of two utterly essential records on The List 2023.

01 // Marta // When It’s Going Wrong

At 19 minutes long, it is debatable whether Marta’s astounding debut record meets the eligibility criteria for this List, one of which is the requirement that entries be full-length albums (not EPs). So, I’ll start by making my case. Although it’s short, When It’s Going Wrong has 9 distinct tracks, and it ebbs and flows like an album rather than an EP. It always feels like I’m playing an album when I listen to it. Marta and her collaborator Tricky have both separately referred to it as her debut album (self-identification is important!). Spotify likewise designates it an album, not an EP. In contrast, the debut EP by metalcore supergroup Better Lovers (only a few minutes shorter than When It’s Going Wrong, and, as it happens, a release that I have also adored and that would have come second on this List were it to be considered eligible), is comprised of only 4 songs, ‘feels’ to me like an EP, and the band and Spotify both designate it as such. I accept it’s a wafer-thin line and, ultimately, I’m considering When It’s Going Wrong an eligible album because I darn well want to. It’s my List so I’ll interpret the rules how I want.

And, so, to the album itself.

Trip hop has long been a genre I’ve loved, but for the most part I’ve tended to return to the 90s/2000s classics by Massive Attack, Portishead, Morcheeba et al, rather than newer offerings (a few Hælos flirtations aside). I’d not heard much to compete with the genre’s heyday since the early-2000s. But, in stumbling across the debut from Polish singer Marta Złakowska (just Marta to you and me) in late summer, I may have found my favourite ever trip hop record. Certainly, it’s my favourite since Massive Attack’s Mezzanine blew my mind in 1998.

I was already deeply in love with When It’s Going Wrong before I realised it was a collaboration between Marta and a godfather from that classic trip hop era, Tricky. This connective tissue – especially to Massive Attack, which Tricky was in for their first two records – perhaps explains why I took to it so instantly. So the story goes, Marta met Tricky by chance when his vocalist dropped out mid-European tour, in Krakow, and, as he searched for a last minute replacement rather than cancel, a local promoter said they knew of a member of the bar staff at a pub down the road who could sing. After then going on to provide about 2/3 of the vocal performances on Tricky’s 2020 album Fall to Pieces and being a key member of his 2021 trip hop collective experiment Lonely Guest (the former being solid and the latter being a decidedly mixed bag), Marta is now heading out on her own. Kinda. Tricky’s fingerprints are still everywhere here, but in shaping his work in Marta’s image rather than the other way around, the pair have hit on something amazing. Trip hop 2023 style.

Tricky’s production on When It’s Going Wrong is unassuming and careful. His beats are simple and restrained, but also often unexpected. Take the show-stopping ‘Today’ – which is nominally a cover of a Jefferson Airplane song from 1967, although the tracks are chalk and cheese – where Tricky switches from a mid-tempo beat to something approaching drum and bass part way through the bridge. There are other such curve balls. ‘Nowhere’ has no drums at all, and instead is almost entirely played on the double bass (with a few violins here and there). ‘Czarno Czarny’ – sung in Polish – is also double bass led but is even more minimal. Massive Attack, these tracks are not. And, yet, the record also features the likes of ‘Moving Through Water’, which was written about Tricky’s daughter who sadly passed away far too young, and which suddenly breaks out the guitars. Just like that, we’re in Protection territory.

Marta’s voice is sultry and beautiful but it’s never polished or perfect. Her work on When It’s Going Wrong has a live quality throughout. It’s almost as though the pair have decided to flag actively that there is no autotune here. Beth Gibbons is the obvious comparator, although Marta’s voice is perhaps not quite that raw. Lyrically, while there is a little of Tricky’s writing on When It’s Going Wrong (especially, as noted, on ‘Moving Through Water’), when it comes to the words, this is Marta’s show. Like the record more generally, her lyrical choices are strange and disarming, without ever being in your face: ‘I was out walking, don’t have a dog’; ‘I want that money, I’ll take time to count it.’

Overall, When It’s Going Wrong is a wonderful album, which is full of oddity, allure, and depth, but also extreme simplicity and hushed atmospherics. When Tricky was asked recently about whether he thought the record would turn Marta into a star, he dismissed the question: ‘Marta doesn’t care about being famous, she just wants to sing.’ And that may be a key reason why When It’s Going Wrong works so well. Neither Tricky nor Marta have any interest in what may or may not be played on the radio or how to rack up the most streams. They just made precisely the album that they wanted. And they wanted it to be absolutely incredible. And really short.

Sacred Cows slaughtered in 2023…

Bands that put out records this year that have not made this list:

Royal Blood

(all 3 of their previous records made my List).

Bombay Bicycle Club

(all 4 of their previous records made my List, including a #1 album in 2011).

Queens of the Stone Age

(all 5 of their previous records released since I started doing these lists in 2000 made my List, including a #1 album in 2002).

Baroness

(I only discovered them in 2016, so they have clocked up only 1 previous List entry, but all 5 albums in their back catalogue would make my List for their respective years if I was rewriting them now).

Foo Fighters

(all 7 of their previous records released since I started doing these lists in 2000 made my List).

Amplifier

(all 6 of their previous records made this List, including a #1 album in 2004 – an album that I still consider one of the greatest records ever made).

The List 2021
Spotify taster playlist for The List 2021