Songs that act as talismans

I enjoy making playlists almost as much as I love listening to music. I love creating cohesive genres and headspaces for myself, making lists of my favourite things, deciding on my most powerful influences, creating links between my ideas… Collecting music on Spotify has become another way of exploring and categorising things that inspire me.

One of the playlists on my phone that makes the least sense – at least for anyone who isn’t me – is a jumble of songs that I named ‘Talisman’. Their specificity is very difficult to explain, but I’m going to try. All of them were almost immediately meaningful. I named the playlist Talisman, because the songs feel like good luck, offering an escape when nothing else can.

In a very particular order (that again I couldn’t really explain) here is my current list of Talisman songs:

Conversation Piece by David Bowie

I first listened to this song after I head Daniel Baddiel quote it in an interview. He said that, after David Bowie’s death, he went with his daughter to the Bowie mural in Brixton. Devastated by the loss, they decided to write on the mural the lyric: ‘I can't see the road for the rain in my eyes’. Even hearing it spoken by Daniel, I could immediately feel that that sentence was gigantic. And when I listened to the song Conversation Piece in full, and heard that line sung in its proper place… I was utterly amazed. It is brilliantly, unapologetically melancholy. And also, like so much of Bowie, just simply true. Isn’t that just the endless struggle of the human? Getting so lost in what is right in front of you, that you can’t see anything else? I could live in that song, and that line, forever.

Marry Me Archie (Cover) by Flyte

I actually have both this cover and the original version (by Alvvays) on this playlist. While it is an objectively beautiful song in its own right, it also acts as a reminder of something for me. This song was recommended to me by a new friend, and we’ve listened to it during some of my favourite memories together.

Ghost Town by Kanye West

I do feel like I maybe only know 65% of the things that someone should know about Kanye West before voicing an opinion his work, but I’m going to do it anyway. As Caitlin Moran wrote, ‘explaining why you love something is one of the most important jobs on earth’. Also, (with an awareness of the argument that maybe this isn’t actually possible) I’m talking only about the art here, and not the artist. So that’s that said.

Here goes: I love this album. I’ve read the critics and I understand the criticism. I know that it feels much less meticulously pre-meditated than his previous albums. But I still love it. For me, it feels careless, but never thoughtless. And this song… ‘I feel kind of free’. I can really lose myself in this (I know I keep saying this, but this is the common theme of the playlist, so.)

As someone who has lived inside My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy for years, I loved the scrapbooking of old sounds. This honestly might be one of my favourite Kanye West albums, and for an artist to be doing that, after so many years of creations… I mean who else right now is still managing that? Its him and Radiohead, alone up there in the cloud of current musical deities.

Hell Nos and Headphones by Hailee Steinfeld

I have actually thought about writing an entire blog post about this song, because of how important it has become to me. The lyrics feel very specifically relatable, and in a way that I can’t even feel ashamed about. The song follows someone leaving a club, craving isolation and independence. I love how gloriously defiant it feels: many of the lyrics are gentle, dignified refusals to go along with what everyone else is doing. The chorus (‘I just wanna be alone/ No, I don't care 'bout what you think/ I'm going home’) is something I could stay up dancing alone to all night long. As someone who spends a lot of time not wanting to participate, but also not wanting to be seen not participating, this has become a kind of anthem. It is easy to underestimate how reassuring it is to hear someone say they feel the same way as you.

When I first properly listened to the hook, ‘Just for now/I'll stick with hell no's and headphones’, I had a flash of I-know-exactly-what-this-song-means. Headphones obviously equal isolation. They represent being in your own headspace and temporarily cutting yourself off from the rest of the world. They have a bit of a stigma, connoting anti-social teens, closed off from their surroundings. I love that this song uses that image to underline how much I don’t care what you think.

It also feels hugely personal to me. An inescapable truth: I spend a lot of time wanting to hide from people. Sometimes, I only manage to survive leaving the house because of the familiar headphones in my ears: music is a little piece of home and comfort and isolation that I get to take with me. This armour, an extra layer of protection, makes the crowds more manageable somehow. I know that I can’t live like this, that a rewarding life means pushing myself out of these comfort zones. But on the bad days, I’m not able to push. During these moments, ‘Just for now’ is my get-out-of-jail-free. For a little while at least, I need to live in my own space and I need this song to tell me this is okay.

After loving and dissecting these lyrics for almost year, I still don’t know if any of what I think is remotely close to what its writers meant to say. I have purposely never read anything about this song, because I’ll be too crushed if I’ve misunderstood.

Wuthering Heights by Kate Bush

Aside from being completely beautiful – no that’s really all it is. This song is magic. Complete, faithful escapism. Whenever I hear it, I imagine Kate Bush getting to play this song to Emily Bronte. To be a fly on the wall during that conversation…. Also, I think Emily would be completely psyched (because I do feel that I know her well enough to say). I will never not find it unfair when I think about great artists never getting to see the generations of people who continue to cherish their work after they’ve died.

Side note: I always thought the lyrics in the chorus were ‘It’s me, I’m happy/I’ve come home’ and imagined singing that someday to my future family. Even now I know it’s wrong, it still makes me smile.

Youth by Daughter

‘And if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones/ 'Cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs’

It breaks my heart a little bit, every time.

This actually isn’t the entire list of songs on that playlist, but I’ve hit over a thousand words, and I don’t imagine anyone will want to read anymore. And I can’t cut down: it’s impossible to write small amounts about these songs. Their importance takes explaining. Maybe I will come back to the rest another day.

I took this photo in a bar in Budapest. Its now the cover art for my Talisman playlist on Spotify, because I can't think of a better talisman.