Every Song I Love is a series where I attempt to write about every song that I love, or die trying. Sometimes I’ll explain why I love them, sometimes I’ll tell the stories behind how I fell in love with them, sometimes I’ll do both. Most importantly, I hope you love them too.

I was so late to Brat summer that it was virtually Brat autumn by the time I caught on. I’m not sure quite how it passed me by. Perhaps it’s because, prior to 2024, Charli XCX had been at the periphery of my mind. If I knew her at all, it was from her 2013 hit with Icona Pop, ‘I Love It’ (one of my wife’s favourite songs, incidentally, and one I have grown to love too). Since then I had seen her name in passing without knowingly taking in any of her music, although I now realise I had actually heard a fair bit. Occasionally I would get confused as to whether she was anything to do with The XX.

This reflects badly on me, rather than her, but does show how much of an impact she made in 2024. It was the year that even people like me, who weren’t really paying attention, could ignore Charli XCX no longer. When I finally sat down and listened to Brat in full, it turned out to be as good as everyone said, one of the finest pop albums of the year (the decade? The century?)

Brat is full of instant pop classics like 360, Von Dutch & Rewind, but the song that stood out most to me was the relatively downbeat ‘I Think About It All The Time’. There’s a disarmingly direct, almost conversational approach to lyrics on Brat, which gives it an intimate feeling for such a danceable record. It feels that you are listening to Charli’s unfiltered thoughts, reading her diary, and it takes great skill to make it feel that way. It also allows her tackle subjects that others rarely do.

On ‘I Think About It All The Time’, this subject is parenthood, or more specifically potential future parenthood. Over a backing reminiscent of early aughts electronica, she recounts a visit to friends in Stockholm who have just become parents, and the thoughts and questions that visit inspires. Songs about parenthood hold a particular interest to me, as a previous blog of mine tried to cover both parenthood and music, before realising I really wanted to write about music and being a ‘dad blogger’ is awful, especially for the children.

I found there were not as many songs about parenthood as I expected (a few more nowadays, but still too few). A surprise, given the huge part parenthood plays in so many people’s lives and the intense and strange emotions it inspires. I interviewed a few musicians for the blog about how they combined parenthood with making music and touring, and they had funny, insightful things to say, but these thoughts rarely made it into song.

Fewer songs still explore the decision about whether to have kids. This is arguably one of the most important choices of anyone’s life, but we’re not expected to discuss it as a decision, a choice. We’re supposed to somehow just know that we do or don’t want to have kids. This came as a surprise to me when I first met the woman who would become my wife. In as much as I thought about it all, I had assumed I would never have kids, because I didn’t think I would meet anyone I wanted to have kids with, or that would want to have kids with me. Because I didn’t consider it an option, I hadn’t really considered whether it was something I actually wanted. Once the prospect became real, and I gave it serious thought, I realised I did. It’s not a decision I’ve ever regretted, but it was a decision rather than an inevitability.

I was lucky though in that, as a man, I wasn’t constantly being asked about whether I wanted to have kids, or why I hadn’t had kids yet, or reminded that my ‘biological clock’ was ticking. Women are not typically so lucky. That’s why ‘I Think About It All The Time’ works so well as both title and song, as it takes the questions that women are expected, almost forced, to think about and speaks them out loud. ‘Will it give my life a new purpose?’, ‘Would it make me miss all my freedoms?’ Anyone considering becoming a parent is likely to be asking these questions, but can’t know the answers for sure until it is too late to change their minds. I was lucky that the decision to have children remains one I’m happy with, but that isn’t the case for everyone. It’s taboo to admit regret, it’s taboo to admit doubt. It’s taboo to even admit we ask ourselves these questions, but we do. We think about them all the time.