The most fun tracks of 2023

From SZA to Cyrus, here is a belated run down of some of the most enjoyable (mostly pop) songs of last year

Agora Hills by Doja Cat

Her greatest song … like it’s actually kinda magical? I continue to be so struck by it on my 500th listen.

With Agora Hills, lover girls everywhere have a new anthem, a song of praise, an affirming dogma. Think Beyoncé’s Dance For You and Partition, but transmuted by an E-girl. It is a transcendent call to boldly enact PDA with IDGAF-pride (“Kissing, I hope they caught us, whether they like or not / I wanna show you off, I wanna show you off / I wanna brag about it, I wanna tie the knot / I wanna show you off, I wanna show you off”).

Like a deluded Cassie from Euphoria, we are dealing with unprecedented, dizzying levels of dickmatism here. Doja’s worshipped subject in real life is no Adonis or even a decent person, but as a subjective That’s My Man anthem, you can map your own pleasure onto it - it’s a permissive wink to ignore the girl, stand up! naysayers and venerate the mediocre man of your choosing, because in a post-Agora Hills world, he’s a cause for damn exaltation.

For me, the song’s vibes are the convergence of the grace of a Pre-Raphaelite muse, the pout of a grainy, thirst trap webcam selfie, and the unbroken smize of a Bratz doll. Doja performs heightened hyper-femininity as a dolly, besotted hot-girl narrator who, with feigned incredulity, inquires, “Who that man with the big strong hands?!”. On an album where Doja courts demons, this is an angelic departure. Ethereal and eager, Agora Hills would be on Tinkerbell’s getting ready playlist before a twilight rendezvous in the sky with Peter. The repeated “I wanna show you off” in the chorus feels like you are twirling in a gossamer gown, and then throwing it back as the diamanté detail catches the light.

It is also the sultriest song in recent memory. This is in part due to some of its explicit lyrics of course, but more so because of the deep knowing it conveys. I believe the sexiest songs are relaxed, playful ones defined by familiarity between lovers. Take Beyonce’s enveloping Virgo’s Groove that holds a whole history of loving in its 6 minute run (time has only fortified their intimacy). Agora Hills perfectly communicates that with us-against-the-world tunnel vision.

And the song just covers so much ground! A mystifying, spacey, airy sound is the maître d’, leading us to honeyed vocals that glaze a sinuous melody and relaxed trap beat. Then we reach verses in which Doja’s valley girl rap high fives the high hat. With Doja’s dynamism, she is her own feature, literally doing a call and response with herself. Shifting up a gear and accelerating with harder delivery, the clipped staccato of her rap (“BE MY SEC-UR-ITY! IT’S YOUR THER-A-PY! WITH YOU I AIN’T HOLDING SHIT. BACK!”) against the fluidity of her singing cadence (“Let-them-feel-how-they-feel-and-be-philistines-’cause-this-type-of-love’s-the-epitome!”) - is divine in its refinement. Her soft melodic flow moves with the sweeping hand of the most elegant and precise calligrapher. Notably, humour is a common denominator in all of Doja’s songs and, in this case, interspersed phone call audio scratches that expectant funny itch: the very put-on girlish, sexy-baby sighs; the cutesy, “no-you-hang-up” smitten exchange; and the goofy apology: “Sorry, just taking a sip of my root beer!”

Snooze by SZA

SZA is the only girl that can make Pick Me-isms feel like sincere expressions of romance, as raw yearning underpins her every ride-or-die promise (invoking mob wife loyalty on Snooze, she’s even willing to risk incarceration for her man). Missing how he adds colour to everything, in his absence, she’s bereft; in his presence she’s at peace and emboldened (a stand out line is: “Nasty habits take a hold when you not here / Ain’t a home when you’re not here”). With its steady tempo, wistful melisma, and sentiment, I see Snooze as the cool-girl little sister of Ain’t No Sunshine by Bill Withers.

The music video - vignettes of a relationship’s highs and lows - is a feat. SZA is mesmerising as ever, and a cameoing-Justin Bieber emerges hot once more, a welcome return to form after his alarming Crusty era.

Houdini by Dua Lipa

With Tame Impala’s Kevin Parker credited on production, this is Dua’s coolest song to date. I suspect Houdini takes inspiration from the spook, beat and clavinet of Thriller, and, especially in its commanding outro, the dirty bass and distorted electric guitar of Beat It. The sensibilities of 80s pop kings don’t let up, as on top of MJ, Houdini channels Pet Shop Boys too.

The punchy chorus feels like you’re moving with purpose through a busy crowd - like Villanelle in Killing Eve getting detectives off her trail under throbbing strobe lights in Berghain. Then, moving into more trippy territory, the transfixing cascade of twinkling keyboard feels like a vortex opening up after sliding down MC Escher’s staircases. Houdini thrills in switch-up as it elicits an intoxicating sense of control, and then vast freefall.

Lipa loves a clear, get lost loser! directive (see New Rules, IDGAF, Don’t Start Now - all songs where she makes it explicit that she has no intention of boomeranging back to the relationship). Accordingly, Houdini is reliably ruthless. Catch me or I go!

River by Miley Cyrus

Miley’s 2023 album Endless Summer Vacation was received by critics as promising in parts, but somewhat incohesive overall. Ninety percent of it could’ve been Tom and Jerry cartoon, crash-bang-wallop sounds for all I care if it still meant I got the triumph that is River! (The notoriously misguided Grammys did one thing right this year in nominating the album, not just the monster success single Flowers.)

River is a tight, 2 minute frisson with a simple conceit of lust. It pounds, pours, and projects an exhilarating danger. Its mastery reaches its acme in the bridge: like a frantic heartbeat on an ECG test, it jolts in extreme.

The whiplash-by-water imagery of the music video offers Flashdance-like catharsis and climax. True pop princess shit.

You Wish by Flyana Boss

“Hello Christ, I’m about to sin again … ”

A bar to devastates all others. Simply razes them to the ground.

I’m The One by Victoria Monet

I’m The One’s taut march … the drizzled vocals … it’s a yes from me. The masterful, agile control Victoria has over her songs feels almost like air bending. I will be linking a petition blow to officially rename Midas touch ‘Monet touch’.

The day this song came out I was killing time between a delayed Megabus coach back to Glasgow from London. I was #gettingmystepsin around the perimeter of the V&A until I tired myself out and decided to find the nearest seat. So, on a random church stoop I sat contently, just playing this on repeat for about 90 minutes. I hadn’t known serenity like it in a while. My aimless afternoon of layover ennui was reshaped in the image of Monet’s omniscient grace. SUBLIME!

Deli by Ice Spice

A fucking tune. Atmospheric and charming, as per. With unparalleled rhyming couplets, both gritty and goofy, Ice Spice puts the play in wordplay. If I was a filmmaker, I would use Deli to score a prison break. With the ominous siren sounds and pulsating beat, I picture a fraught escape mission, with a Mad Max type chassis bounding off into the distance.

F2F by SZA

SZA is the smartest songwriter about, and her poet laureate ways go in a layered pop-punk direction here, with the no-bullshit, concise candour revealing itself to be dense with bitter regret.

F2F’s raucous chorus is like canon-ball diving into open water and instantly being swept up in thrashing waves. The pitch-perfect “I fuck him cause I miss youuuu” gives an almost humorous, empirical cause-and-effect explanation for the current relationship snafu. Boom. What more do you want? That’s how things went down, A + B = C. But then, as if burning in self immolation, “I hate me enough for the two of us” conveys a more sombre note, as if to say I’ve already punished myself more than you ever could.

Is It Over Now? by Taylor Swift

Taylor does hindsight well, whether that’s clarity after a period of naivety, or more recently, ownership of past misdeeds. Here, she leans into the latter, still being a little indignant but ultimately demonstrates maturity about the mutual damage caused in a past relationship.

She diagnoses an one-time love (a 2013 Harry Styles!) as an insatiable lothario, but recognises she cannot claim to be a totally absolved party either (here we get thematic continuity from the Styles-inspired Style).

For a long time, Swift’s allusions to sex were largely pretty opaque. She didn’t venture far past the mildly suggestive, offering just enough imagery to tie together a somewhat provocative, charged scene: a carefully placed pant here, a vague nod to an erogenous zone or undressing there. But significantly, it was the 1989 era that ushered in proper adulthood experiences to the Taylor canon, and thankfully with that came increasingly confident, more honest expressions of desire, messiness and sensuality befitting a grown woman’s love songs. Is It Over Now? hits that mark in a really animated way.

Escapism by Raye

Escapism is a gripping ode to a spiralling night of regret in the name of recovery; a chain reaction of misguided moves in the a.m. that aimed to drown sorrows.

Raye is the classiest act to come out of the UK in years - like best thing since Amy Winehouse type act. A powerhouse woman with something to say, simply born to be an artist.

Femininomenon by Chappell Roan

Maximalist pop is BACK, baby, and theatricality is Chappell Roan’s forte. Anyone that deals in the kitsch and garish has my vote. With a distinctive sound, personality, lore, looks … we’re dealing with a superstar here.

“(Hit it like) Hit it like rom-pom-pom-pom
(Get it hot) Get it hot like Papa John
(Make a bitch) Make a bitch go on and on
(It's a fem) It's a femininomenon”

Skewering pop precedent and waving it as an effigy, she is clearly a student of the genre who knows exactly how she wants to advance - and attack - it.

4Eva by Kaytraminé

“Forever like André say (say)
Champagne and lemon with the Bombay, bae
French 75, but my French so frey (ah)
Comment tu t'appelles? Je m'appelle Aminé”

Lascivious summertime perfection. Pre-drinks on holiday will never be the same!!!

How High? By Ice Spice

This song is an uninterrupted strut, a two-minute burst of pure poise. The beat so satisfyingly kicks in like a horse rider’s spur and we get perfectly tempered and succinct lyrics like “How you mad I do less when you gotta do more?”. It’s such a treat.

I want to reimagine a stylish cinematic moment with this soundtracking in a fancam .. say, an iconic Scorcese tracking shot of a balling protagonist … say, Ray Liotta and Lorraine Bracco entering the Copacabana in Goodfellas (1990).

Angel by Pink Panthress

This is objectively the most interesting song on the Barbie soundtrack (the very tepid Dance the Night sounded like a Future Nostalgia B-side, I am sorry).

In a bizarre but endearing turn, cacophonous grunts brush up against melancholic vocals made up with her signature nonchalant delivery. Then, the strings of a Scottish ceilidh also somehow align. Here, we have a confounding but commanding mix of Celtic and Bubblegum Pop. Safe to say, few have the prowess of Panthress.

Nothing On (But the Radio) by Addison Rae

This song is so empty … and that’s why it’s great.

Addison takes on the vacuous Pop Girl character and builds an infectious facsimile from the four quadrants of Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, Material Girl, Kim Petras and Ke$ha.

Giving credit where credit’s due, Nothing On (But the Radio) would’ve been a fitting addition on Madonna’s MDMA album. Equally, it would make a killer mashup with 2010 hit (?) Get Your Candy by Aggro Santos that featured a veteran member of Addison’s decent-singer-but-much-more-impressive-dancer community: Kimberly Wyatt of the Pussycat Dolls.