The first song I fell in love with
I remember listening to Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) by Eurythmics when I was really young. There was something about the line at the beginning that I was completely intoxicated by.
The first download I bought
When I was about 10 or 11, I would put my headphones on and wander through the park all angsty listening to Fake Tales of San Francisco by Arctic Monkeys, my first download on my iPod Nano. I loved the storytelling, the characters and the gritty tableaux they described: it felt so real, even though it was far away from where I grew up.
The song I do at karaoke
I inherited a lot of records from my uncle when I was 12 or 13; he let me choose as many as I could fit in my parents’ car. I chose randomly: Sade, LL Cool J, Grandmaster Flash, D’Angelo and Prince. Although I don’t do karaoke, hypothetically I would choose When Doves Cry by Prince. There’s something almost unattainable about the way he sings. I would throw myself at it with passion, but not be able to pull it off!
The song I inexplicably know every lyric to
There are so many, but Superstar by Jamelia makes me happy – it’s a kind of a bubblegum pop song.
The best song to play at a party
My parents had a lot of CDs. My dad was into jazz – Miles Davis, Charles Mingus, Duke Ellington – and my mum loved French music and Whitney, Diana Ross, Tina Turner, Janet Jackson. I was playing Janet Jackson’s All for You in my dressing room for my crew and everyone was bopping. I feel like you can never go wrong with her. I love her voice – it softens people.
The song I can no longer listen to
Even songs tied to painful experiences, I don’t avoid. Fourth of July by Sufjan Stevens is heartbreaking. I have to be careful when I listen to it, because it brings out so much melancholy about grief and loss – it plunges you into certain spaces.
The song that changed my life
There’s so much space in House of Cards by Radiohead; Thom Yorke’s voice is ethereal. I discovered it a few years before I wrote Collapsed in Sunbeams, it has the same minimalism to it.
The song I secretly like, but tell everybody I hate
I embrace the music that a lot of people like, because there must be something that brings us towards it collectively. Like Starstruck by Lady Gaga – I blast that shamelessly in the car.
The song that gets me up in the morning
I’ve been listening to I Care by Turnstile: it’s happy, heart open. It makes me feel like I’m 16, but the drums are, like: OK, time to get the coffee going and start the day.
The song that makes me cry
Glory Box by Portishead. It’s so piercing, specifically the live version from Roseland theatre. Hearing the little cracks in Beth Gibbons‘s voice, she’s baring herself to the audience, it brings tears to my eyes.
The song I want played at my funeral
Sunday Morning by the Velvet Underground: there’s something so warm about it, it feels soothing, like a new beginning. It’s melancholy but with a glimmer of hope.
Ambiguous Desire is out now; Arlo Parks tours the UK and Ireland, 17 to 26 October; tour starts Dublin.
