Ten years ago, a song came out that has not been equalled in the decade since.

In the last ten years, we’ve had a pandemic. An invasion of Ukraine by Russia. Another conflict between Israel and Palestine. We’ve had the rise of generative artificial intelligence, and we’ve learned that the climate crisis is very real. A reality TV star becam President of the US. Political division rose, at times trying to rewrite history. And we’ve created, despite all that, some incredible art. Movies, literature, poetry, music. Despite it all, we continue to create.

The song ‘Blush’ came out on a 2013 EP (also named ‘Blush’) by British band Wolf Alice. Do you remember 2013? Nelson Mandela died that year. Terrorists bombed the Boston Marathon. ‘Selfie’ was a relatively new term. The Harlem Shake was everywhere, something I studiously try to forget.

Wolf Alice took their name from a short story written in the late 70’s by Angela Carter. It’s a take on ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ told through the perspective of a feral child. A name pulled from literature. We are all feral children, aren’t we?

Wolf Alice is a stunning band, but nothing tops ‘Blush’. It’s the best song of the last ten years, still unmatched. I cruise the Spotify playlists looking for its equal. I listen with headphones on. I listen in the car. I lie down on a couch outside and stare at the sky, listening for a next iteration. I saw Wolf Alice live twice last year, hoping that they would play this song, but they didn’t. The shows were fantastic, though. I will keep seeing this band as they tour in the future, and one day, I hope to be standing in that crowd, likely near the stage, very likely inebriated, and ‘Blush’ will start. It’s a moment I believe will happen. I can picture it. I can taste it.

The lyrics can be found here. I won’t recite them, but there’s a line in this song that resonates in my head when I’m uncertain. When I don’t know. When I’m lost, and failing, when the effort seems too much. When I’m feral and running on all fours in the backyard, hopping the fence and dashing into the forest with its little stream, swiping my hand through the water to find treasure.

You’re allowed to be what you could

It’s permission. Sometimes, I need that permission. It unlocks the reticence or the boundaries I place upon myself in the writing world – or the boundaries that others constantly want to impose. We are free creatures in a box. Defined by invisible red lines on a map, the colour of our skin, the nature of our heritage. One species – human beings – determined not to believe that we’re in this together. Permission can be handy. It can be the note tucked into your back pocket, taken out and reviewed when the weight of the thing, our inability to find kindness because we’re so sure that we and we alone are right, overwhelms us and makes us forget that we are allowed to be what we could.

Listen to the song. It starts slow and elevates. Ellie Rowsell is the genius lead singer of this group, and the way she pelts that line comes with conviction. It comes with purity. It gives me permission when I need it and speaks to me in a way that few things do. It achieves, for me, what the best art does: it sings to that place where I am most human, most vulnerable, most lost and in need. For that, I am grateful.

I am allowed to be what I could be. You, too, are allowed to be what you could be. Take that. Run with it. Run as fast as you can and as far as your breathing will take you. Don’t stop. Don’t look back.

You can listen to this song here, for the official video. That’s not Ellie at the mic, but it is her voice. A strange video that puts a layer or two on this song. I would encourage you to check out this live version, too. You will need to scroll forward to minute 7:00 for when ‘Blush’ starts. The song is a banger, to be sure. It is soft. It is secure. And it asks not a few times if we’re happy now. We are, aren’t we? Despite it all, we have our art. We have our writing, and the many things, the many moons, that surround us as we dream.

I recommend music all the time, because music is humanity’s greatest creation. We didn’t find this, like we did scientific concepts or math. We made this. We did that. So, yes, I recommend music all the time, but no song I’ve put forward equals this one. It’s the best song of the past ten years, and well worth a listen. Give yourself permission.