My November Playlist
- marissarotolo13
- Nov 19, 2025
- 3 min read
By Marissa Rotolo
Songs function much like scents: they fasten themselves to specific moments in our lives. Heads Will Roll by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs will forever belong to November 2024. Taylor Swift’s Midnights is inseparable from October 2022. And Blackbird by the Beatles remains tethered to my seventh-grade self. Nostalgia operates this way: equal parts gut punch and gentle embrace, a disorienting duality.
This November has introduced an entirely new layer of it, reminding me how memory resurfaces in unexpected ways and how music, more than almost anything else, becomes the archive we never meant to build.
Death Wish By Gracie Abrams (Apple Music Live From Red Rocks)
This song is an absolute juggernaut. “Deathwish” is a raw, gut-level confession of what it feels like to love a narcissist. If the lyrics weren’t devastating enough, Gracie Abrams’ trembling vocal delivery pulls you straight into the wreckage.
Lines like “Well honeypie, you’re haunting me / you poured the wine, there’s poison in it” capture the disorienting feeling of someone lingering long after they’re gone. And when she admits, “I used to pretend that it didn’t feel evil,” she gives voice to the denial we cling to when we know a situation is wrong but can’t bear to release it.
Each chorus begins with the same hollowed-out plea— “How will it end? / How long will you give me? / Until you twist the knife with a smile while you kill me?” turning the song into a haunting cycle of hope, fear, and heartbreak.
West End Girl By Lily Allen
Lily Allen’s newest album, West End Girl, unfolds her divorce in striking chronological detail. Her punchy, rhyme-driven lyrics place you squarely in the shoes of a forty-something mother navigating the chaos of starting over.
The lines are quirky, sharp, and oddly perfect—reflecting how real life rarely feels polished, yet somehow still makes emotional sense. West End Girl becomes not just a breakup album but the beginning of something deeply cathartic: a woman confronting her own humanity and letting us sympathize with her imperfections.
Buckle By Florence and The Machine
“Buckle” sounds like fame and loneliness colliding in real time. “I made a thousand people love me, now I’m all alone” is a soul-crushing opening line that drops you straight into the hollow center of notoriety.
It exposes a brutal truth: adoration means nothing when the one person you want to choose you simply doesn’t. Crowds can roar for you, yet silence from one person can drown out all the noise in the world.
Beyond its lyricism, the song carries an unmistakably autumnal softness: wistful and fading, like leaves drifting from the trees.
Cloudbusting By Kate Bush
In full transparency, I Shazammed this classic while sitting in the waiting room for a job interview. Spoiler: I ended up getting the job.
Kate Bush is incredibly sonically unique that she demands your attention every time it drifts through a room. Cloudbusting carries that same electric confidence you feel when you know you’ve aced an interview or you’re standing in front of the mirror getting ready for a night out. It’s a song that doesn’t just play; it lifts you
Methamphetamines By Pearl
A 2025 release with an unmistakable 1960s pulse, this track feels like it was pulled straight from the golden age of rock. Pearl is a genuine industry disruptor precisely because she leans so unapologetically into classic rock sensibilities.
Her vocals channel the raw, unfiltered power of Janis Joplin and the hypnotic eeriness of Grace Slick: an homage that feels refreshing in a musical landscape dominated by hyper-produced electronic sound.
As November winds down, I start a new playlist, feel new feelings when I hear them again, and continue to evolve with the seasons. If you’re reading this, consider crafting a fall playlist of your own, something you’ll return to months or years from now, when the season means something new.
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