Which song makes you emotional? Why?

When you’re grieving, the automatic response seems to be to reach for songs that compound sadness. This morning, looking out into my garden, I see the sun shining and goldfinches swooping gaily, offering a glimmer of hope I want to kindle with music instead. Bent’s Exercise 4 conveys a sense of lightness and optimism, spun from delicate synthetic gossamer threads.

Post one of your favorite ballads.

Perhaps not a ballad in the strictest literary sense, instead a narrative song in the Appalachian murder-ballad tradition. Carolina Drama by The Raconteurs recounts a tragic tale that builds inexorably toward a violent climax, ending with the story’s central mystery hanging unresolved. La la la la, la la la la, yeah…

A song that you like in multiple versions

I like both The Rolling Stones and The White Stripes covers of Stop Breaking Down by Robert Johnson, but The White Stripes raw, elemental take on their debut album has the edge for me. Either way, both versions point crooked fingers back to Mississippi Delta blues creating signposts for subsequent generations to follow and, for those who subscribe to legend, prove the enduring nature of Johnson’s Faustian pact with the Devil.

A song by a band whose merchandise you've bought - what was the merchandise

I don’t really buy merch anymore, but this prompt took me back to when I first started buying records and collecting memorabilia. That would have been around 1990, and there weren’t many bands from my hometown played on the radio or featured in the music press. Back then, all eyes were on bands from Seattle or Manchester. But there was one that garnered a lot of attention, and for a time, they became my favourite band. Around then, I was being bullied at school, at home I would retreat to my bedroom which was covered in posters and magazine cuttings of The Wonder Stuff. I’d listen to their records and imagine they were my friends and I suppose, in a way, they were.

What song makes you feel grateful?

I listened to Hunky Dory a lot around the time we were thinking and talking about getting our first dog. We’d walk through the parks near our home in South London, admiring other people’s dogs, imagining what it would be like to have one of our own, and trying to decide which breed might suit us. We joined waiting lists, then came the long wait until a Norfolk Terrier puppy became available. Our lives changed when that joyful 12-week-old bundle of fur was placed in our arms and joined our funny family on 11 August 2013. Kooks feels like a fitting tribute to the love we shared, and I know the pain we’re feeling now is a measure of the happiness you brought into our lives every moment of the 12 years, 7 months, and 18 days we were lucky enough to share with you. Rest in peace, our beautiful boy.

Ziggy (Jaeva Hot Mint)

19 May 2013 – 29 Mar 2026

What's your favorite instrumental song?

I could reel off a list of instrumental songs I love. It’s difficult to choose a favourite, but one of them must surely be Says by Nils Frahm. Gradually unfolding out of a swirl of synths before the almost overwhelming piano kicks in at the song’s climax. There’s just the briefest moment of stunned silence at the end, where you imagine the audience trying to get their heads around what just happened before the response.

A song from a TV show that you like.

Tiny Tears by Tindersticks immediately comes to mind, and makes me think of the Sopranos episode it featured in. Music is used to great effect throughout the series, up to and including the final episode. For me, and perhaps a lot of people, it’s impossible to listen to any of the songs without thinking of the show. When it was originally broadcast, it was unusual for TV drama to be so elevated. Even now, 25+ years later, it still stands at the pinnacle.

A song that you discovered in an unusual way.

This might not seem unusual to anyone over a certain age, but this prompt made me think about the ways I discovered music before the internet. When I was at school, one way was swapping tapes. During breaks, we'd retrieve our cassettes from battered military-surplus backpacks and do swapsies. They were often copies, or even copies of copies, made from an unknowing or pitying older sibling's original. One particular tape I came by had Come on Pilgrim and part of Surfer Rosa on one side, the rest on the other. For a while, I thought both records were a single album. Anyway, that's how I first discovered The Pixies. Simpler, more innocent times.

A song that reminds you of a particular friend.

I saw a conversation online recently where tech workers were talking about how they had no friendships with colleagues and would be uncomfortable if they did. That made me ineffably sad, but when I thought about it, I realised they had a point. I haven’t made any genuine or enduring friends through work for a very long time. Listening to Shudder / King of Snake by Underworld elicits a wry smile and makes me think of my friend Andy, who I met at work and still count among my closest friends, even though we now live on different sides of the world. It reminds me of the adventures we had running around London as if it were our own personal theme park in the 2000s. All the overlong lunches, blurry late nights, sketchy mornings after, and the omnipresent magic bus. Somehow, we managed to make a decent enough showing at work to avoid drawing the ire of management and getting fired. I like to think they found our capers in the office amusing, including wrapping entire pieces of furniture and equipment in tin foil. Miss you. Love you, buddy.

What’s a remix or cover you like more than the original?

I wouldn't necessarily say it’s better than the original—let's be honest, covering Bowie is a tall order. That said, I love Nirvana's take on The Man Who Sold the World. Despite being a fairly straightforward rendition, this song and the entire Unplugged set revealed a tender, vulnerable aspect to the band not immediately apparent on their studio albums. Live and acoustic, recorded in a single take—astonishing, really. I watched the performance on MTV at a friend's place around the time it was originally broadcast because cable never reached as far into the suburbs as I lived. When it was over, I remember being stunned into silence. The album has lost none of that arresting power over the years.