A Complete, Unabridged List of 2023’s Songs of the Week

San Diego has no shortage of incredible artists, even if they don’t often get the fawning national attention of those coming out of the metropolis to our north. That lack of recognition bothered us over here at Voice of San Diego. So, this year, we tried something a little different.  

Beginning in August, each week, I included a song from a local musician in the Morning Report newsletter. It was a whole lot of fun, and I genuinely hope you enjoyed the dash of musical levity it offered. I plan to keep the tradition going for as long as my editors allow me to run around off-the-leash. 

For your listening (and reading) pleasure, we’ve compiled every “Song of the Week,” here, so dig in! You can also press play on the YouTube playlist below and let the waves of homegrown sonic goodness carry you away. As we enter the new year, I’ll be on the lookout for new sounds to showcase, so please don’t hesitate to get in touch.  

Shoot me an email with any songs by local artists you’ve been jamming to or any concerts you think I should check out. Also, don’t forget to subscribe to the Morning Report to get a in your inbox every week. 

Aug. 3 

Jackie Mendoza, “Seahorse”: Chula Vista/Tijuana songwriter Jackie Mendoza specializes in eclectic, infectious and danceable electronic pop. “Seahorse,” with its effervescent synths and spaced-out vocals is a perfect example of her ability to blend texture and melody. But the real reason I chose this underwater gem is because it feels like a sonic dip in some cool, cool water – a perfect refresher as we stare down the barrel of another hot, sweaty summer.   

Aug. 10 

San Diego has always had a delightful strain of weirdness running through its local music – just check out Bill Perrine’s excellent new book “Alien Territory“ which surveys the strange, avant-garde sonic landscape of San Diego’s 1970s to get a taste of how far back that tendency goes.  

Gary Wilson, “Debbie Debbie”: In homage to that legacy, I thought I’d choose a song from one of my favorite off-the-wall experimentalists, Gary Wilson. “Debbie Debbie“ mixes familiar tones into an unfamiliar brew. It’s chock full of musical left turns and Wilson’s trademark off-kilter vocals, but most of all it’s fun. The kind of song that perplexes on its first listen but sticks in your head for weeks after. 

Aug. 17 

Armoire, “Rochelle”: Armoire is songwriter Ariel Iribe’s synth-laden new wave solo project and the self-titled debut album carries an air of nostalgia. It’s at times carefree and light and at others dark and hypnotic and always twirling, twirling and twirling. “Rochelle,” a bouncy and playful ode to young love and companionship is decidedly the former and sure to defrost even the iciest of hearts. 

Aug. 24 

Moondaddy, “Angel”: Songwriter Cara Potiker’s previous project Wsprgrl was an infectious electropop affair with touches of gloomy darkwave. The kind of music meant for late-night cigarettes or meandering drives. With her latest project Moondaddy, whose debut album “Poet Lies” dropped on the excellent local label Volar Records on Friday, Potiker ditches the more digital feel for a refreshingly organic and intimate brand of dream pop that channels Cocteau Twins and Beach House.  

The whole album is stellar, so deciding which song to choose was difficult. I landed  on “Angel,” which builds from a sparse and ethereal synth number that perfectly showcases Potiker’s haunting voice to a cathartic sonic swell that wraps you up and doesn’t let go. 

Aug. 30 

Dave Mead’s musical bona fides date back more than a decade to local heavyweights and strobe light indie rock purveyors Cuckoo Chaos and psych rockers Chairs Missing. While he spent much of his time behind the drum kit, in 2019 he traded in his drum sticks for a guitar and the mic and booted up Crasher, a post-punk project whose 2020 EP included one of my favorite local jams of the year in “Whatever Dude.”  

Crasher, “Iced Tea”: Mead and multi-instrumentalist Jordan Krimston – one of San Diego’s busiest musicians – are back with a forthcoming full-length album, “Speaking Terms.” The first two singles showcase the varied sonic intensity at play. “Static” is a blast of noisy, frenetic energy while “Iced Tea” is a whispered and melancholic affair, imbued with a sense of regret and contemplation. A cool drink of a song for the hot week we’ve endured. 

Sep. 6 

Beejay Buduan has been producing dreamy, jangly pop under the moniker Shindigs for nine years, with his first couple albums dropping when he was teaching English in Korea in the mid 2010s. In that time, he’s released 11 EP’s and full-lengths – an impressive feat. It’s even more impressive when you take into account just how damn good they all are.  

Shindigs, “After It All”: The five songs on Buduan’s 2021 EP “How’s It Goin’” are filled with the enchanting and introverted DIY aesthetic he’s long excelled at. But one of the best things about Shindigs is the project’s ability to distill abstract whisps of feeling into musical form. “After It All,” featuring vocals from Anna Jeter of Portland’s Ancient Pools, is a prime example. The rich, glittery synth number conjures a wistfulness, like time is slipping through your fingers and all you can do is watch it go. 

Sep. 13 

Peter Holslin, local boy, longtime music writer, and former editor at the San Diego CityBeat (RIP), wrote a piece for Vice in 2019 headlined “San Diego Is Paradise for Goths.” That seems a bit exaggerated to me, but there’s no question that this beachy border town more closely associated with Slightly Stoopid and Blink-182 has long had a delightful and enduring sweet tooth for black leather and synthesizers. San Diego’s love for Joy Division and The Cure reminds me a bit of Mexican communities oft-documented devotion to Morrissey: it’s odd at first blush but makes a sort of spiritual sense.   

O/X, “Scorch”: Christopher Oxendine’s solo project O/X isn‘t your grandfather’s goth music. It’s infinitely harsher than, say, a Siouxsie and the Banshees, and packs at least twice the sonic punch. Oxendine classifies O/X as electronic body music, a genre that fuses industrial tones with synth dance beats. The result is a sharp, danceable and charred-black sound that conjures images of Blade in a vampire club but somehow even more searing and dystopic. “Scorch,” is a mesmerizing example 

Sep. 21 

You don’t always see drummers as bandleaders, but if any local drummer has the clout to lead it may be Chris Prescott. He’s sat behind the kit for an array of boundary-crossing legends like Pinback, Fishwife and No Knife. His more recent project, Montalban Quintet seamlessly mixes a wide array of influences, from jazzy horns to experimental compositional elements to post-punky textures.  

Montalban Quintet, “Abajo Del Mar”: Unlike much of the band’s moody meanderings, this song is propulsive and upbeat. There’s a playful confidence to the horns that channels just a touch of the metropolitan swagger of George Gershwin’s masterpiece “Rhapsody in Blue,” and brings me back to my teen years of playing “SimCity” instead of doing my algebra homework. 

Sep. 27 

Delahcruz, “WHERE IS THE BLISS?”: Delahcruz’s most recent release, 2020’s “Choking Hazard,” is her most slickly produced. It’s also her most subtly experimental, bursting with environmental flourishes and sly hooks. The whole release is an immersive listen, but “WHERE IS THE BLISS?” is a perfect encapsulation of the air-conditioned feel. It melds a minimal and slowly morphing beat with vocals that are at times wispy and at others tuned down an octave. The result feels a bit like cruising through South Bay but in a dream.   

Oct. 4 

The Sure Fire Soul Ensemble is a San Diego band through and through. The band’s meaty jams blend funk, soul and psychedelic sounds and evoke, both in spirit and in name, everywhere from Imperial Beach to City Heights to Adams Avenue to Lemon Grove. That could easily end up sounding cheesy, but Sure Fire does it with a familiarity that makes it all feel genuine and never once overwrought.  

The Sure Fire Soul Ensemble, “Step Down”: Speaking of cinematic, Sure Fire’s “Step Down,” which also served as the name for its 2022 album, is a vision. It features a heavy groove inlaid with a guitar awash in tremolo, tinkling keys and the psychedelic flits of a flute. But the real star of the show is the beyond-fat horn breakdowns layered in a film of grit. The whole thing feels a bit like a secret agent montage from a classic James Bond flick and a lot like your new favorite song to blast while driving with the windows down. 

Oct. 11 

When I press play on a Nite Lapse song, I instantly feel transported to a world of dark sunglasses and neon-lit nights. The band’s slick, chromed out blend of funk, pop and R&B is as smooth as it is seductive. It’s a sound that, like the band, which hails from both Tijuana and Chula Vista, seems to thrive in a sort of cosmic borderland that, despite its allure, carries an aura of danger.   

Nite Lapse, “Nonchalant”: Nite Lapse’s 2022 single, “Nonchalant,” makes good on its name. It’s an effortless and delicate display of groove that feels impossible not to move to. Singer and multi-instrumentalist Robert Martinez’s hushed falsetto floats above the bouncing bass and precise guitar stabs like smoke. 

Oct. 18 

Hailing from National City, Los Shadows have for the better part of a decade put out infectious indie rock with just a dash of grime. But the band’s latest album “MOJOMOJO,” finds them trading in their dream pop inspired riffs for a blend of rock and cumbia that comes complete with percussion and call-and-response Spanish vocals.  

Los Shadows, “Coahuila”: “Coahuila,” feels a bit like accidentally wandering into a party at a junkyard in the middle of the night. There’s a foreboding air to lead singer Andy Saldana’s deep, octaved vocals, which in turn are enveloped in a stew of barking dogs, hooky keyboards, a plodding bassline and assorted sprinkles of percussion. The song puts on full display Los Shadows’ adeptness at blending textures while conjuring undeniably heady and intoxicating vibes. 

Oct. 25 

Ten Bulls went through something of a transformation in 2019 when the band expanded its lineup and changed its name from Sights & Sages. Still, they retained much of their restrained and dreamy pop sound. In the years since, Ten Bulls has released a full-length and a collection of singles and b-sides that both showcase the band’s intriguing musical dichotomy: its ability to construct delicate and precise indie rock that somehow both beckons a listener in and keeps them at arm’s length.  

Ten Bulls, “Virgil”: The first time I heard “Virgil” I couldn’t help but wonder why I was listening to it on my phone and not the radio. It’s a sound that brings to mind both global sensations Alt-J and former local heavyweights Deadphones. (PS: Do you have access to the album Deadphones, formerly Cuckoo Chaos put out?) “Virgil” is overflowing with cosmic auditory swirls, whispered vocals and muted guitar notes. It’s somehow both driving and hushed, almost like a wave perpetually on the verge of cresting before repeatedly dissolving back into the ocean. 

Nov. 1  

Trit95’s fuzzy, lofi synthwave isn’t a bold, new musical innovation. Plenty of bands swim in similar musical waters. But what makes Trit95 so special is just how effortless it all feels. Music like this infects, blooms and breathes. It feels like something out of a memory: all hazy summers, late nights spent smoking cigarettes in the park with friends who’ll soon grow distant and the all-consuming limerence of that first wobbly love.   

Trit 95, “Forever”: “Forever” is one of those songs that you don’t so much listen to, as much as you fall into. It’s propulsive and rich. Trit95’s songs about longing and love (of which there are no shortage) have the unique ability to make my weary heart flutter. But at just over two minutes, “Forever” is over far too soon. The only thing to do is press play again. 

Nov. 8 

Tijuana has long been one of our region’s musical bright spots. Our neighbors to the south just know how to write damn good tunes. But, like all good scenes, there’s a significant amount of diversity. One of my favorite pockets is (surprise, surprise) the sizable streak of dreamy rock and pop that’s bubbled up over the years. Memory Leak, who fuse shoegaze sensibilities with a satisfying crunch, is a perfect example of that trend.   

Memory Leak, “Planeta Distante”: The liner notes describe “Planeta Distante,” or “Distant Planet” as having been inspired by “contemplating ruins of ancient civilizations, structures that were erased.” Simultaneously ethereal and elated, and anchored by Laura Gonzalez’s whispery vocals, the track is a call not to drown in the big wide world around us, but rather to bathe in the moment. After all, as Gonzalez sings, “everything passes and nothing is important.” 

Nov. 15 

Twenty-one years ago this week, San Diego indie rock heavyweights Three Mile Pilot released their debut album, “Nà Vuccà Dò Lupù.” Though not the band’s most celebrated release, it launched the careers of all three original members, who would go on to found legendary local acts like Pinback and The Black Heart Procession. 

Especially compared to Three Mile Pilot’s later work, which features a more fleshed out lineup, “Nà Vuccà Dò Lupù,” stands out. 

Three Mile Pilot, “Unicycle Silencer”: On first listen, “Unicycle Silencer,” feels much fuller than its instrumentation would suggest. That’s in large part due to Jenkins’ layered, tortured vocals, which vacillate from screams to whispers and Armistead Burwell Smith IV’s visionary bass acrobatics. The result is a dark, meandering, nine-minute track that seemingly discovers, loses and rediscovers swelling hooks within the folds of its almost psychedelic sonic explorations. Just close your eyes and let it sway you. 

Nov. 22 

Deadbolt is a bit of an oddity. Though to some, the band’s a legend, it’s probably flown under the radar for many San Diegans. The self-proclaimed “voodoobilly” band has kicked out spooky surf rock inspired jams for over three decades. Though Deadbolt’s called itself the “scariest band in the world,” its music is less Aphex Twin and more like if The Ventures played a cover of “Monster Mash,” or “Werewolf Bar Mitzvah.” In any case, it’s a damn good time, and some of San Diego’s tiki culture, like the yearly Tiki Oasis music festival, probably owes something to the rockers’ haunted, yet tropical vibe.  

Deadbolt, “Down in the Lab”: “Down in the Lab,” from the 1994 album “Shrunken Head,” showcases Deadbolt’s tried and true sound. It’s got booming, echoey vocals, reverby surf-guitar licks and no-frills drum and basslines all tied together by an unassuming lo-fi mix. There are even some bubbling sound effects thrown in for good measure. It’s not a reinvention of surf rock, but it also didn’t need to be. Deadbolt just added enough of their own stamp to keep it fun. After all, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it. 

Nov. 29 

When I was younger, I went to a lot of shows. Many of them were in living rooms, overgrown backyards, steamy garages or cramped art spaces. That is to say, they were DIY shows. Those were my favorite kinds of shows, which is why I ended up throwing so many myself. I haven’t been to nearly as many in recent years, and it’s hard to tell if I just got older and stopped getting invited to DIY shows. I’m sure that’s a part of it. But I also know the pandemic did a number on the DIY scene. Skyrocketing rents locally have been another punch.   

All of this is to say that healthy music scenes need these sorts of spaces. The ones that really only exist for a love of art and community and good vibes. Places where bands can tinker and get their sea legs and audiences can explore. But if communities want these spaces to stick around, they need to love them back. The Brown Building in Azalea Park, where Big Blue World plays Friday, is one of those spaces. 

Big Blue World, “No Heaven”: Big Blue World’s debut EP “No Heaven” is soaked in a thick layer of grime and fuzz. The band’s lo-fi, shoegaze-infected indie rock is something of a comfort food for me. And with vocals that sound like someone singing through a megaphone into the receiver of a rotary phone and a sharp, distorted lead guitar dispensing hooks, it’s the kind of sound perfect for jumping around in a hot sweaty room.   

Dec. 6 

If you’ve been listening to my “Song of the Week,” selections for any amount of time you’ve likely noticed some similarities between my picks. I’m an absolute sucker for lofi synthwave. Hit me with some distorted, reverby vocals, a post punky bassline and an arpeggiator and my heart melts. Luckily for me, San Diego has no shortage of artists – past or present – that fit the bill, from Island Boy to Trit 95 to even the short-lived Other Bodies. Mercury Girl wasn’t a project I had previously heard of, but it certainly fits the bill.   

Mercury Girl, “In The Morning”: I think the best lofi synthpop transports you to a place not quite now and not quite then – a sort of temporal liminal space. That’s what “In The Morning,” does for me. There are shades of the sonic optimism of Modern English (always a good sign), but it’s even more stripped down and synthed up. Even though what I can make out of the lyrics seem to be about loneliness, what really carries throughout the track is a sense of warmth – almost like the empty bed you’ve returned to wants to give you a big hug.    

Dec. 13 

I went on vacation this week and am deeply sorry I did not write out a “Song of the Week” in advance. Please, forgive me. I beg you. 

Dec. 20 

San Diego’s a difficult place to make it as a band. The city’s artistic ecosystem is stunted and perpetually wilting in the shadow of it’s big brother, Los Angeles. It’s hard to make it in a city whose audiences can’t support a band actually trying to make it, so LA draws creatives and those that value creativity from our sleepy hamlet to its star-studded streets like the Death Star’s tractor beam.  

But San Diego also suffers from economic realities that exacerbate the difficulty: simply put, it’s expensive as hell, which makes ditching the day job to tour that much harder. The internet’s changed some of these calculations, but one thing remains the same, “making it,” whatever that means anymore, doesn’t often come easy. That’s why bands like Well Well Well, who have been putting in the work for years, are an absolute joy. 

Well Well Well, “Brunch Lake”: I first caught wind of Well Well Well back in 2016, with the release of the band’s album “What Do We Have Here?” It’s an absolutely delightful mix of psychedelic-tinged indie rock that showcases the band’s range and sonic vision, while also demonstrating the band’s lighthearted approach. Well Well Well’s since put out a steady stream of similarly excellent albums, but I still can’t get that debut release out of my head. “Brunch Lake,” is one of my standouts. It’s a driving and relentlessly catchy track whose initial darkness unfolds into a cathartic chorus, like the moment the sun breaks through a wall of clouds. 

Dec. 27 

San Diego’s never really been known as a hotspot for hip hop, nevertheless, it’s spawned its fair share of talent, even if it’s gone somewhat unrecognized. Rapper Ric Scales is a perfect example. For nearly two decades, the rapper has been releasing music and throwing events, like the monthly “Slappin’ Hands,” at Til Two, which showcases local artists. Scales is perhaps best known for his freestyle prowess, which he’s proven both in local competitions and in feature spots in cyphers. 

Ric Scales, “Like That”: Scales’ recent single, “Like That,” showcases the rapper’s silky, natural flow and ability to craft a tight hook. The track’s set over an equally silky beat produced by fellow San Diegan DJ Root that features a bouncing bassline, tinkling keys and a hypnotic flute. But despite all the silk, the track’s a biting takedown of those who talk the talk but don’t walk the walk. “Why these impostors never got impostor syndrome? Is it naivete or is it overoptimism?” Scales raps over a warping synth bassline.