Picture this: your first date has gone great. You’ve made it back to their flat and are now sitting on their bed as they start to set the mood. They close the bedroom door, switch on the bedside lamp, hit spacebar on their laptop and… boom. “Radioactive” by Imagine Dragons.
Now, we’re not here to shame you for listening to music. In fact, if you even listen to full albums nowadays you’re probably one of the good ones. What we are here to do, however, is make extremely shallow snap judgements about what the albums you do listen to say about you as a potential partner. Appearing on this list isn’t an indictment on the artist themselves (in fact, there’s a lot of great music on here), but it is a warning to maybe add a disclaimer before playing them to someone you’re trying to get into bed with.
So, without further ado, below the Dazed team share their very subjective thoughts on what album would make them run a mile on a first date.
I loved Arcane, but when I hear Imagine Dragons all I can think is League of Legends. It gives: Turtle Beach headset, ‘I only drink water if it’s fizzy’ and, perhaps, ‘co-dependent relationship with my mother’. The phenomenally successful electropop-rock band have a knack for writing songs that have lots of emotion and absolutely zero substance – for instance, has anyone ever been able to work out what “Radioactive” is actually about? Sure, that’s pop songwriting for you, but, if you’re over the age of 18 and still bumping Imagine Dragons, you’re probably not mature enough to be dating. (SPM)
Don’t get me wrong, Brent Faiyaz’s voice is angelic. But, if you go back to someone’s house and they start singing “He might be Mr. Track and Field but I done ran through them all,” you’re not going to be filled with hope about your relationship prospects, are you? The fact is, 50 per cent of Faiyaz’ music is about adultery, and it’s sexy AF. Brent Faiyaz’ Fuck the World is a sign to have fun, but also maybe keep your options open. You’re playing with faiya(z). (SPM)
I am a big fan of Mac. Who else could write a love letter to cheap cigarettes as lyrical as “Ode to Viceroy”? But I am deeply sceptical, unfortunately, of the legions of softbois who think owning Salad Days on vinyl and smoking lots of weed is a substitute for a personality. You know the type: hasn’t changed his (navy) bedsheets in seven months, exclusively drinks IPAs, thinks his (remarkably average) taste in music is very sophisticated and eclectic, actually. I am sure plenty of straight, male Mac fans are perfectly normal – but I have been asked far, far too many times by dull men on Hinge if I have “heard of this artist called Mac DeMarco”, I’m afraid. (SS)
Old, Nothing Was the Same Drake may have been a manipulative soft boy, but at least he had the foresight to write love songs that don’t completely alienate his women listeners. New, Her Loss Drake, on the other hand, is more closely aligned with a manosphere influencer. Even aside from Drake’s “friendships” with underage girls, for a man to consider Her Loss his favourite Drake album would be a big, red indicator that he may be in the comments of “high value male” videos, talking about how “girls these days” are [insert misogynistic comment here]. At the very least, it’s worth bringing up the conversation of Megan Thee Stallion being shot by Tory Lanez to see if your Drizzy-pilled date shares his tendency to not believe women. (LP)
I am prefacing this with my full support of women’s rights (and wrongs). There’s not one album here – victim music is more of a vibe. Think: the soft spill of boygenius, the devastating hum of Mitski and Ethel Cain. Bonus points if there’s a Sharon Van Etten deep cut buried in the mix.
This genre attracts the polar extremes of sapphics – they’re either the kindest person you’ve ever met, or the most emotionally destructive force to ever enter your DMs. And while this music is meant for the real victims, it’s the latter group who pollute their listenership.
They don’t do labels, but avoidant rolls off the tongue just fine. Breaks no contact when they’re bored, still updates your shared Spotify playlist when the nostalgia hits. She keeps you just close enough to feel wanted, but never close enough to feel safe.
You’ll try your best to forget all about them – try to shake the feeling that they’re listening to the same songs you’re healing to – but you’ll still see them tagged in Instagram stories (it’s a small lesbian world after all) or stumble upon their Lucy Dacus TikTok casting video. The block button is your best friend here. (TM)
I don’t really care what music someone I’m dating likes; I’m not going to recoil in horror if someone’s into “male manipulator music” (partly because I listen to a lot of that stuff myself) and even if someone was really into a band I find annoying, I’d give them a chance – maybe I could learn to love a boygenius fan. So if I’m thinking about what would actually be a music red flag, it comes down to two key questions: does their taste indicate an affinity with right-wing politics? And does it suggest they might be a paedophile? On the first point, I’m raising my eyebrows at anyone who remains an avid fan of Morrissey’s most recent output – any album released since he started singing the praises of Britain First (The Smiths wouldn’t be an issue for me.)
As for the second – and I have to admit this is not something I’ve ever encountered and must surely only apply to about ten people – if I go back to your flat and you throw on a Lostprophets album, I’m going to assume you are at the very least a fucking FREAK! I’m all for separating the art from the artist, and wouldn’t claim that all of the musicians I love have lived morally upstanding lives, but past a certain level of depravity, it would speak ill of your character if it hadn’t given you the ick. See also: many other artists who have credibly been accused of similar crimes, some of whom are still widely listened to today. (JG)
Nothing screams “I work in finance and have too much disposable income” more than pictures of someone dressed in all-white at one of German afro house collective Keinemusik’s globetrotting DJ sets. They perform to wealthy, invariably European audiences in places like the Giza Pyramids, the jungles of Tulum, Mexico and Abu Dhabi – iconic locations carefully designed to accrue likes on Instagram and Raya. Their music isn’t awful (although, I personally find the endlessly shuffling rhythms and lack of bass to amount to sonic edging), but, let’s face it, most people aren’t there for the music. They’re there for the clout. (SPM)
Look, I won’t blast you for a bit of Parachutes, or even reluctantly tapping your feet along to “Viva La Vida” while, say, stuck in a dentist’s waiting room. Coldplay can be a good guilty pleasure. But, if you’re too into them – like a ‘bumping B-Sides and rarities’ level of a Coldplay fan – I’m sorry to break it to you, but you need to try harder. It screams ‘I got this CD for Christmas 2011 and haven’t branched out since.’ (SPM)
This is a tricky one for me because I don’t really care what a potential partner listens to and the closest thing to a “red flag” would be someone who has the exact same taste as myself – for example, I need to be the Lana fan in any given dynamic (the romantic, sensitive and tortured one with a haunting glamour and the soul of a poet) and if push came to shove, I think I’d rather date a man whose favourite album was The Best of Stereophonics over someone who loved flawless masterpiece Norman Fucking Rockwell as much as I do. But I’m simply not going to put Lana del Rey on a list of dating red flags – I would agree with any hate mail sent my way.
So gun to my head, I’m going to pick the vague micro-genre of unlikely heavy metal covers (metal itself is fine, I can fuck with a Slayer fan!) This is inspired in particular by a cover of George Michael’s “Careless Whisper” that a guy I met at a party in Bristol once put on while we were in bed together (I think it was this one), which was followed by an even less erotic goth metal cover of “Walking in the Air” from The Snowman – it wasn’t even December! I didn’t judge him for this playlist and it wasn’t enough for me to flee the scene (in fact I hung out with him many more times) but it was one of the most unpleasant auditory experiences to which I’ve ever been subjected. What’s wrong with a bit of D’Angelo? (JG)
Kanye is and always will be a musical genius, but that’s not the point. There’s a case to be made for listening to Kanye’s later, and incredibly anti-semitic, hate-fuelled releases – for example, out of morbid curiosity, or a dwindling affection for Ty Dollar $ign. But these aren’t the discussions you’re probably having on a first date. Vultures is the kind of album that’s played moments before someone starts justifying Joe Rogan and lamenting cancel culture. Run a mile. (SPM)
Bad: your date starts playing their old band demos from when they were sleeping on a mattress on the floor at uni. Worse: they start serenading you with the four-chord love songs they probably wrote about someone else. Worst: they do the above on a ukulele. Look, I don’t care if you’re Eric Clapton with the voice of Brent Faiyaz, I don’t want to have to massage your ego and tell you how good you are just hours after meeting for the first time. It’s fine to have dreams, a bit of talent, even, but at least have a shred of shame to wait until the second date before forcing them on me uninvited. (SPM)