A Current Top 10 Love Songs
(in no particular order)
Last week, I wrote about love songs with the past in mind. Today, I wanted to feature ten songs that currently represent romance in my eyes. Some are sappy, some sardonic, but all are important to me. I hope you like them too!
“with u” by soccer mommy
I’ve fallen for the littlest things / about you and the way you are
Some of the best songs about passion feel hopeless, violent even. This one is no exception, a vibrant diptych that sets imagery of blood and martyrdom right next to visions of everyday bliss. These two mythic creatures stare at each other, naturally at odds and suited for battle… but then decide to carry on with their lives, unaffected. What other choice do they really have? They look so nice, side-by-side.
Commitment is scary because it forces us to think about the terms of our lives in a way that transient experiences don’t. The more my relationship dips into “longterm” territory, the more frequently I’m prompted to think about my age, my choices, and the stages of my life — Where I am now, and where I hope to be someday. The questions asked of me every day. The quiet devotion of saying “yes”.
“knocks me off my feet” by stevie wonder
And I reach out for the part / of me that lives in you that only our two hearts can find
When I caught Covid for the first time a month ago, I struggled to find music that met me where I was at. I decided to dig into some tunes that I’d saved for a rainy day: Stevie Wonder’s Songs in the Key of Life. I’d always known I would love this album, and looked forward to giving it a deep listen. But I’d pocketed it, like a potent elixir, and saved it for a time when I’d need something shiny and warm.
This ended up being the perfect occasion to give the album a listen, wrapped up in blankets and yearning for something familiar but engaging, not sullied with any of the baggage of my past. Stevie Wonder is an icon, of course, so my first listen was full of many “oh this song is on here” moments and quiet, unconscious sing-a-longs. But this particular song hit me hard — I hadn’t heard it before, but it felt so damn familiar in the feelings it evoked, the sheepish declaration of love at its core: “I don’t wanna bore you with it…” We all feel afraid to take up space sometimes, in the presence of people who awe and inspire us. We all deserve to release those fears, and step proudly into our affections with the grace and authenticity of this track.
“june 21st” by jeff rosenstock
There’s nothing I’d rather do / than slay the nightmare arm in arm with you
The best relationships are between co-conspirators — I love feeling like I’m scheming with another person, collaborating to craft a life that makes room for ridiculous dreams. Jeff Rosenstock’s WORRY is an immaculate tribute to this kind of love, chronicling his relationship with his wife amidst the tumult and ennui of 2016 America. They got married on June 21st, the summer solstice, and this rollicking track pays quicksilver tribute to that fact: an invocation for an endless summer.
“the kiss” by judee sill
Silently swooping down, just to show me / How to give my heart away
Judee Sill writes like a mystic — Her songs about sex all might just be about God, and the inverse is almost always true too. So when she writes about a “kiss” on this one, it’s tough to know who she’s embracing and how. Sill herself grappled with this tension in her own interviews, linking the song to the “union of opposites” in one case, an alchemical process that happens within oneself.
But isn’t that a romantic idea too, at heart? The belief that we can change ourselves, and marry the parts of ourselves that seem to claw at and contradict one another? I love this song because I think it is about everything — flawless moments, a beloved imperfect self, a perfect kiss. A life romanticized by choice.
“if we were vampires” by jason isbell
It’s not the way you talk me off the roof / Your questions like directions to the truth
There are few songs that make me cry, without fail, on each listen. This is one of that select few.
It’s easy to view death as a joke before it touches us in some way. Before we lose someone too soon or find ourselves staring, far too early, at the brink. Past this point, everything changes — most of all, the way we view our loved ones, how tightly we hold their hands.
When we find new things worth living for, everything changes too. The stakes are raised, permanently: We are obligated to protect what we love. This is a love song for grave times, but it’s one for the quiet times too. The fear of loss is etched, irreversibly, into the laws of love.
“if i should die tonight” by marvin gaye
I won’t die blue / Cause I’ve known you
In the previous song, Jason Isbell remarks that “I hope it isn’t me who’s left behind”. That’s the flipside of grief’s coin, I guess: We can only be spared if we duck out early.
It’s a grim outlook on love and loss, but it’s one turned amorous in this Marvin Gaye classic. He counts himself one of the lucky here — Many don’t live to see their dreams come true, to bathe in the glow of a perfect moment. And while love and death are hopelessly interwoven in culture and in mind, this song offers a defiant alternative to the omnipresent anxiety and fear. Death isn’t going anywhere, but neither is love.
“true love” by hovvdy
Could I get used to this / if you let me?
By now we’re due for some lighter fare — Hovvdy’s got just the thing.
On paper, it might seem like it’s been done before: a few simple sentiments strung together on top of warm, dreamy indie folk guitars. But there’s something hypnotic about this one, with its abstract, cycling lyrical style and downright gorgeous melody line. “You comfort me” is its core — We don’t know how or why, but this simple description of the narrator’s beloved is enough to make us buy the whole story. The song feels completely immersive. No moment is wasted in this montage; we’re thrust immediately into the morning pillow talk, anxious wonderings, and hopeless reverie of new love.
“posing for cars” by japanese breakfast
All your love, it grows firm and full beneath / Without a festered thought, without an emerald want
Picking out a lyric from this one was tough, but I knew I needed to include this song on the list. I had the pleasure of seeing Michelle Zauner perform it live, a perfect encore for a perfect show. Her husband, Peter Bradley, plays guitar in her band, and the connection they shared while playing this one together was palpable. It’s baked into the structure of the track itself — The lyrics drop out, mid-way through, and make way for an acid-washed, sun-kissed guitar solo. This is the true climax of the song: A moment shared, in silence, by two people who love each other. A moment so ecstatic that words could only trip it up.
“too late” by spiritualized
But it’s too late, I’ve made up my mind / Love always shows when there’s eyes it can blind
There’s something awfully Disney about this number — the “I won’t say I’m in love” stubbornness, the narrative nursery rhyme of the verses…But it’s also by far the most jaded track on this list. Spiritualized have a remarkable ability to make music that’s at once irreverent and uplifting, filling hymnals with blasphemy without compromising any of the religious fervor.
But that’s just it: Beautiful things are going to exist whether we brush them off with deft sarcasm or not. And most of the time, once we’ve been swept off our feet, we’re already in too deep to salvage any “cool” persona or calculated presentation. Whether love makes us enlightened or idiotic is beside the point. It makes us feel great, even if just for a moment.
“read my mind” by lianne la havas
Could you possibly be any closer to me?
This is an ode to the fabled Honeymoon Phase — planted at the beginning of an album that will end in heartbreak and eventual renewal. Situated in this context, I’ve found my mind skipping over this track on many encounters with this album. Not literally skipping the track just…losing my focus while it’s playing, letting it wash right over me. I’ve grown to appreciate it, and I’ve also grown to realize that washing right over is precisely what this track does best.
This is a song for the days when love feels easy. When we don’t have to ask for the things we need, when decisions feel natural and effortless. It’s a bit of a fantasy, but it’s a blissful one to step into, and it’s one that feels familiar to anyone who’s seen the other side of the “to good to be true” door. But it’s also an ode to that optimism, the fresh mind we continue to conjure each time someone new gives us reason to entertain bliss.
This was a rushed one — I’ve been without heat for the past 14 days, and am writing from a hotel room while waiting on my landlord to complete repairs. I’ve been feeling sort of unmoored from the related stress this week, but am grateful to finally be somewhere warm. Hopefully, I’ll be out of this situation tomorrow and ready to enter the new week with more energy for writing! Thank you for tuning in regardless, as always.
Until next time: eat lots of discount chocolate!
Clare