In this one, I'm going to make a list of my favourite bands and artists discovered in 2020 without completing the lexical field of 2020 bingo, and I'm sure all of you know what I'm on about.
Yes, 2020 was a trash can of a year, and that's one hell of an understatement.
Yes, we all fucked it when we said it was going to be our year, Weightless style. Sorry, All Time Low.

But there's no point in talking about it over and over again. 

I want to talk about the four artists and bands that made it all better. There were plenty more, but these four were the most important ones.

4. Congrats

Anyone who knows me out of here knows. At this point, I sound like a broken record about the works of Benjamin Stewart. For those who have no idea what I'm talking about, here we go.
Congrats is the side project of Slowly Slowly's Ben Stewart, and, by now, I hope I'm making a little more sense. Congrats is all about sleek, polished pop-tinged with electronic sounds and trap beats, which is a very fancy way for me to say it is miles, what am I saying, galaxies away from my usual music taste, full of men with long hair and/or receding hairlines screaming about their feelings above loud guitars.
But if you know me, even just a little, you know I'm a sucker for good pop music, and, in that way, Congrats is right up my alley. The six songs currently out are lodged in every crevice of my brain for the rest of time. I spent a big chunk of 2020 with Cut Down The Middle stuck in my head, only for it to be dislodged by the next single, Russian Roulette, and that was only until Lobotomy appeared on my YouTube feed one evening, all green-screen music video and jumping puppy. (You read that right)
Congrats is right up my alley because it is catchy, but most importantly because it is well written. A character study of sorts, the songs are cleverly penned, somewhere in between pop that should be flooding the airwaves and the emotional songwriting Ben Stewart is most known for in Slowly Slowly. (Don't you dare telling me that "you needed space, so I got a lobotomy" isn't on the same realm of emo as apologising for bleeding on someone's t-shirt. There is even a stripped-back version of it to prove me right)
Through Congrats, Ben Stewart gets an outlet to experiment with different inspiration and different sounds, different parts of a music taste. I am allowing myself to relate, because, to me, artists like Congrats are a way to channel different parts of my personality, the girl who's going to be an emo trainwreck to the grave, but who will, sometimes, switch up the soundtrack so she can do it with pretty clothes, dad dancing, and too much wine. 

(Disclaimer I wasn't aware of: I have apparently become a wine person in the year of our lord 2020. I've been in France for too long)

3. Alex Lahey

I have touched upon Alex Lahey's music in my post about the women of Australian music, so most of what I am about to say will not come as a surprise. As I mentioned, I discovered Alex's music in the "Fans also like" section of Spotify, I pressed play on The Best Of Luck Club, and the rest is history, history being written in a tiny village in the middle of nowhere, France.
Somewhere in the free time and the free space I had in 2020, I found myself with too much time to think, which could always be a lethal combination for yours truly, queen of anxiety. (Live life on the edge, am I right) I wondered about my social life, my relationships with other people because I have never been good at it, as a general rule of thumb. On the other side of social media, everyone I knew, everyone I call a friend, because I get attached faster than the speed of light, was thriving, with their friendships and their relationships, everyone they knew supporting their every endeavour and complimenting their every move. I felt, and I guess I still feel, a bit left behind because I have never been a popular girl, and I don't think I will ever be.
And here comes Alex, with I Don't Get Invited To Parties Anymore, the story of all the times you weren't geographically here to be at someone else's birthday, and it catches up with you, and you don't get invited anymore. And you wonder if you could go back, if there is anything you could do to not be left behind, or if you've fucked it entirely. Fun stuff. In what could have turned into yet another existential crisis, I found comfort, because for once, I wasn't alone, and there was music made for me. Music made for my awkwardness, my existential questions, all the times I felt left behind, the jumble of my feelings. In my tiny corner of the world, I found another corner of the world that matched just right, a piece to the puzzle.
And it doesn't hurt anyone that it comes with a sax solo in the incredible Don't Be So Hard On Yourself. 

2. Homesafe

Homesafe is one of these bands I had heard of, knew of, had probably listened to at some point, but had not clicked with yet. And, at this point, you have probably gathered that if I am about to start talking about them in a post about music I have loved in 2020, it's because everything has changed.
Homesafe, hailing from Chicago, Illinois, one of my favourite places on Earth, is one of the many musical endeavours of Knuckle Puck's Ryan Rumchaks. I am going to take a wild guess and say that this is why I a, knew who they were and b, pressed play on One, on an afternoon I remember nothing about except that it was cold, I went to the supermarket, I still lived in England, and I listened to it twice in a row because I couldn't get enough of it. Homesafe has, since then, been the soundtrack to afternoons spent creating and writing and channeling every single idea that came to my brain, every story, every project, every tiny thing. They have been the soundtrack of making the ideas into a tangible reality, and if, for now, it has only been for books I don't want anyone to read and small creative projects, I like thinking that I found something in the comfort of their music that made me want to do something, that inspired me.
There have been many times when I have said that I wasn't good at describing genres and music, and I would be the same in real life. I would be the kind of girl who you ask what kind of music she's into, and I would just panic and say "a bit of everything" when I have a wide, yet curated taste. This is what is happening as you're reading this, the pen-to-paper equivalent to the real-life question and panic. I don't know how to describe Homesafe, which box to put them in, which is kind of cool. There is a definite 90s sound somewhere in there, Foo Fighters, pre-American Idiot Green Day, Blue Album Weezer, that kind of vibe. There is a dash of modern-day pop-punk, managing to encapsulate the best things about the sound and avoid the clichés. There is one of the best opening riffs I have heard in a long time in Vanilla-Scented Laser Beams. (Which is also the most awesome song title I have heard in a very long time) There are also super cool, thought out music videos, and acoustic songs for days. How could it possibly get any better?
When I listen to Homesafe, I feel like I am listening to a band that doesn't put themselves in a box, who doesn't call themselves any genre at all, that just, in the best and most straightforward way, just makes the music they want to make. It's music that inspires me, that I find comfort in, and that I want to listen to live, because the two live streams weren't enough to my taste. It sounded great through my computer speakers, whether it was acoustic or full band, but I want the whole experience now, the sweaty venue, jumping over the crowd who won't have a choice, almost being kicked out of a venue in America, the works.

Allow me the 2020 cliché, but when this is all over, on top of my list, I want to see Homesafe live.

1. Slowly Slowly

(Who's surprised, no one)

On Saturday, I received my Chamomile vinyl, after a grueling wait of over a month. My brother, who tends to get lost in all the music I love, asked me who Slowly Slowly were, and I could only say that he'd listened to them in the car, which could be any artist on the planet at this point. When we were driving, later on, Creature Of Habit Pt. 2 came on, and after remembering to say "that's the band from the vinyl," I got lost in the music, drumming along, trying to remember a time when they weren't ever so present in my life.
It's only been a year, and, in the grand scheme of things, a year is nothing. It's three hundred and sixty-five days. It shouldn't change your DNA and the order of everything you love, but it does. Slowly Slowly are the story of how, somehow, I listened to someone's recommendation, listened to an album, waited for the new one that was about to be released, and got swept off my feet so violently that I barely remember a time when it wasn't this way. It's almost as if the before doesn't really matter that much, and, in a year when the world stopped, and my world stopped, I still find it absolutely crazy to have found something I ended up loving so much it became a part of me I don't remember how it was to not have. Life's a funny little thing.
If you know me, you know. You know how I read their old triple j Unearthed page and found out they were inspired by Jimmy Eat World and tried to figure it out. You know how I spent most of my walks in the fields listening to Race Car Blues on loop. You've seen the ridiculous state of my Spotify stats. You've read the Instagram stories and that one blog post. You know how I lost myself in the music, and found myself, too. You know I nourish the hope of seeing them live someday, despite having a twenty-five-hour flight, somewhere between seven and eleven timezones, and a global pandemic between us. You know me. I'll get there, somehow, someday.

I guess I failed at the lexical field of 2020. Twice.
Oh, well.