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This column was originally published in issue 21 of Back Alley Games, December 2025. More of my writing and thoughts about music can be found within their pages and on their website.

After each successful year, contemplation becomes commonplace. Those without the usual urge to reflect suddenly turn their attention inward, to celebrating accomplishments and extending gratitude to those around them. I am no different.

After 12 months and several thousand words slammed disjointedly into Google Docs and onto paper, I’d suppose this magazine deserves the same treatment. I’ve enjoyed writing about the work many of you do, and your responses have been consistently kind and encouraging.

Though many of you didn’t (or perhaps still don’t) know that the words you’re reading are generally mine, you took them in all the same – and in certain cases, repeated them back to me, attributed to a certain Australian.

That being said, I’d like to celebrate one of the most impressive and long-lasting relationships of my adult life – with you all, if that wasn’t clear enough – by opening a door into my inner world.

This is not a privilege I’ll extend often, lest I lose my air of detached, oddly-charming cynicism, but anniversaries should be celebrated. Without further preamble, here’s my confession:

I don’t play that many video games.

I can hear the protests now. I’m aware that this is a magazine about video games. Life is often inexplicable like that.

If I had my own wicked way with this magazine, I would be writing about niche internet drama, odd court cases, and music every month. Perhaps I still will. Maybe I am right now.

That’s right, I’ve conned you all into reading another column about music. I’m an obsessive consumer of the stuff. I never do anything in silence if I can help it, and I think it’s always worth talking about. In fact, I can link many of my blunders, milestones, and emotional journeys this year to the albums I was spinning (either figuratively or literally) as they happened.

So, because Spotify lies – I’ve become convinced of this, both because of their links to weapons manufacturing and the fact I obsessively track my own listening stats – I’ll wrap it myself.

Head Cheerleader – Pom Pom Squad: Best song to break down to

Many of you have likely already guessed that my brain is not exactly wired in a typical fashion. Whose is, these days? The current world is overwhelming, and at the risk of sounding like a maladjusted loser, hard to get through at all. Sometimes I require constant, repetitive noise to decompress with during a commute or a good session of lying face down on a hard surface.

Because of that, what I like to call my “yearly breakdown song” is incredibly important to me.

This song changes from year to year. In 2022, it was the acoustic version of “Linger” from The Cranberries’ 2017 record, Something Else. Turns out, a five-minute song listened to three times allows for a 15-minute breakdown. Who knew!

This year, it was “Head Cheerleader. I’ve been attempting (and failing) to fix my self-esteem issues for the whole year, something my therapist has consistently recommended I do. In some ways, this may be an extension of the uncertain and transitive nature of a senior year. In others, it may be that I’ve just grown bored of hating myself.

As someone who is really trying to place more faith in myself, here’s to trying to choose the things we really want.

Celebrity Skin – Hole, Strangest Places – Abra Moore: Album recommendations that may have gotten me ghosted

You’ll never know if that’s a joke or not.

After waxing poetic about my own self-esteem issues and my attempts to fix them, this section is going to be remarkably self-deprecating. You’re welcome.

As a terminally agoraphobic editor and student, I don’t often find the time or inclination to leave my cave. However, I managed to make a few outings this summer and strike out spectacularly when attempting to hit on someone at a party.

Shocking, I know. I just seem so charismatic on paper.

The story is both incredibly entertaining and would irreparably damage your respect for me, should you still have any, so I’ll spare you the details, one of which includes a wildly popular free-to-play online team game.

Instead, you can take away this: Strangest Places is a fantastic record that’s worth a listen for even the biggest Lilith Fair skeptic. “Four Leaf Clover” and the title track are great gateway standouts, but you won’t regret a full listen, trust me.

Additionally, if you haven’t listened to a Hole record yet, what are you doing? Put aside all the bad shit you’ve heard about Courtney Love and free yourself. If nothing else, she is both incredibly funny and capable of singing absolute bangers. There’s a reason I call her the modern-day Oracle at Delphi; her music – and occasionally her opinions – are worth the pilgrimage.

Hurricane Drunk – Florence + The Machine: My song of the winter semester

Enough said. Kids, don’t get a journalism degree. Waste $40,000 on literally anything else.

Suzanne Vega – Suzanne Vega: The record I spun the most at home

For a $5 bargain bin find, my partially scratched LP of Suzanne Vega’s self-titled 1985 record has seen over 100 spins during my time with it. In fact, I often put it on when I write this very magazine.

In many ways, this album is the soundtrack of my year. I tend to use music as a way to avoid my own thoughts wandering – perhaps an unhealthy habit, but I’m willing to move on if you are –so it shouldn’t be surprising that the sparse, thoughtful pieces on this record are often my first choice of accompaniment.

If you only know her from “Tom’s Diner,” please give this record a shot. The sequence of “The Queen And The Soldier” into “Knight Moves” is one of my favorites in music.

Honorable mention to the record I listened to most often in my beloved (and generally broken) truck: Dig Me Out by Sleater-Kinney. Sorry to both Jonah and Liz, who were forced to listen to it on repeat this fall.

The Clearing – Wolf Alice: The record that disappointed me most this year

I’ve been a Wolf Alice fan since 2018. Perhaps a bit late for the day ones, but my English heritage manifests in a long ass surname and an undying love for Liverpool FC rather than the ability to keep up with music trends from across the pond.

Mea culpa, and all that.

Finding them when I did, I was only able to experience the release of their third record, “Blue Weekend,” in 2021 and man, did it rock my world. From vocalist Ellie Rowsell’s growly singing to the guys behind her fucking shredding on their guitars, it’s fantastic indie rock.

Songs like “Formidable Cool” and “Play the Greatest Hits” still regularly find themselves in my playlists, extending my love affair with the band to an impressive (but not unmatched) eight years. On top of that, The Clearing’s lead single “Bloom Baby Bloom” was a fun (if out of character) little retro romp.

So, given the fact I’d been waiting for it for four years, why was this album such a miss for me?

It’s not the abnormal piano (at least I don’t think), and it’s not the often-juvenile rhyme schemes. It just feels like the band has been neutered.

All the delightfully noisy rough edges have been worn away, leaving a core of heavily produced, somewhat banal sentiment I assume I won’t often be revisiting.

That said, I’m still hoping to see Ellie and the guys in another 3-5 years for another go. Let’s hope it’s a bit more potent than this one.

Minneapolis – that dog.; Nancy Drew – Tuscadero: Songs I annoyed my family and co-workers with

It seems odd to end this column full of music recommendations with a statement like this, but my taste in music is bad.

Many songs that are jarring, sonically confusing, and full of off-key singing are my favorites. Maybe it’s because they take away the pressure for me to sing on key. Maybe they just scratch a part of my brain that more technically sound pieces do not.

The world may never truly know, and I’m not even sure if I can fully recommend these songs or the bands that made them. But if you’re brave, maybe you’ll also upset your boss by coming in the door singing about a bar called the Jabber Jaw.

Thank you for allowing me the chance to speak to and with you this year. I hope you’ll stick around to see what we do in the future. Who knows, maybe I’ll have more music recommendations for you next year.