So I thought I hated 2025, until I realised perhaps I didn’t hate it quite as much as my knee jerk reaction would suggest. Without a doubt, a number of unpleasant things happened, both in my personal life and in the world in general. But in many ways, this shitty little year has been a great teacher and at the end of it, I might be a (very marginally) better person. Or, more likely

If you want a measure of just how unhinged things got at some point, well, I now have a Labubu, her name is Stella, and was named after an Interpol song. I was mildly disappointed by her colour. Sesame Bean, apparently, but it’s just fancy gray, not unlike Cloud Dancer, the Pantone colour of 2026, is just fancy white. I had hoped for either green or blue, but concluded she was the Labubu I deserve when she tried to make her big escape in Athens airport unclasping herself from my bag on our way back from vacation, only to be spotted on the ground by an astute fellow traveler. I completely agree with anyone trying to stay in Greece indefinitely. I most certainly do.

On the up side, I kept finding four leaf clovers.

On to the lists, then, the point of this whole thing.

Concerts

This was a vintage year for Budapest venues, so we traveled less for concerts, for a change, which is definitely wallet friendly- or friendlier, for sure, as the prices of tickets have spiraled out of control over the past years. Any new announcement, and there have been plenty, is a mixed bag of excitement and dread over the state of your account at the end of the month.

Before we rattle through them in chronological order, allow me to go on a small rant: I dislike both people who film/photograph entire concerts, and venues that forbid cameras/phones altogether. I’m all for being in the moment, but I can also appreciate the value of having small mementoes that will briefly take you back. A way to fight oblivion, and preserve time that matters. So below you will be entertained with some photos and videos of varying degrees of quality- often lack of it.

• Tindersticks (Magyar Zene Háza, March 2)– the one where we discovered what a brilliant venue the House of Music is, with amazing acoustics, a crowd that won’t push and shove and a drinks selection that can uphold quality without being overpriced. Having the Tindersticks as our introduction to the place definitely helped too.

• Sivert Høyem (A38, March 12)– the one where I said thank you to a Norwegian man in Swedish after he very politely obliged and signed my journal. Hello darkness my old friend, here I am being cringe again.

• Warhaus (Magyar Zene Háza, March 28)– the one where they unexpectedly came through a side door for the encore, and gave me a minor heart attack. I would listen to a trumpet real close for you/But please don’t ask me to.
• Arooj Aftab (Magyar Zene Háza, April 4)– the one where Arooj wondered where all the Brown people were and we wondered whether Arooj knew there aren’t all that many in Budapest to begin with. Lest I be suspected of being obtuse- I do understand where she was coming from, but the crowd at indie concerts in Budapest is nothing if not inclusive, yet it’s also pretty restricted, not by a will of its own, but by the general public’s preference for other musical styles. As such, the crowd of the night was quite representative- and enjoyed both the music, and the banter.
• Altin Gün (Akvárium, April 11)– the one where I learned that having Turkish psychedelia played for the crowd of a primarily Latino music festival is not necessarily the best idea one can come up with.
• Efterklang (A38, April 25)– the one which was on my birthday and that’s basically plenty enough to make it great

• Amenra (A38, May 1)– the one where we completely underestimated the size of the crowd (as in, number of people and height and width of the average Amenra fan)and got stuck at the bar, only to have a grand old time nevertheless.
• Cat Power (Akvárium, June 18)– the one where I got confirmation of two things I already knew. Cat Power has a brilliant voice. I am not sold on Bob Dylan.

• The Streets (Akvárium, June 22)- the one that was the most disappointing, perhaps because I had wanted to see Mike Skinner for a very long time and had great expectations. He was obsessed by the concept of a Buda vs Pest conflict, which does exist, just not in the way he pictured it, and sort of wrapped the show entirely around this not fully functional conceit.
• Molchat Doma (Barba Negra, June 26)– the one I chose over St Vincent, who played the House of Music on the same day, and had no regrets. Being the single person wearing light colours in a stream of goths making their way from the HÉV stattion to the venue is a kind of bliss entirely in its own league. Belarussian post-punk for the win.

• Jean-Michel Jarre (Pula Arena, June 28)– the most adventurous one, involving a train aesthetically from a Wes Anderson film but functionally from a Yugoslav Black Wave one. We rattled in scorching heat with no air con through the length of Hungary and Slovenia, to be cooled by the Alpine breeze, but kept awake by the most ungodly racket of old metal and woodwork. Come morning, a shiny new Polish carriage was added to our train amidst unfathomable, Byzantine maneuvers in Postojna. We soldiered on towards Rijeka, and then the sea appeared suddenly, gloriously blue, and we had time but for a brief pit stop before we were on the road again, this time aboard a bus furiously launching itself into the meandering seaside road leading to Pula. A thing of absolute beauty, the sea dipping in and out of sight, beaches rushing by. And Swedish children throwing up, for good measure, to the absolute horror of their parents. The driver, non plussed, drove even faster, as if out to prove something and shake the little bastards some more. However, from then on, everything was smooth sailing. The Pula Arena is in a league of its own as far as venues go, our seats turned out to be even better than expected and hearing Oxygene live made every previous discomfort very much worth it. Before heading back to Budapest, we had time to squeeze in a lovely little beach as well, and I bought a cute hat I later lost in Athens. The cherry on the cake of the trip was Booking.com cheerfully sending me an email which read Excited for Pula?!. Romanian speakers will understand.

• Alanis Morisette (Budapest Park, July 21)– the one where I joined a friend and felt a little discombobulated by the rites of a cult I did not belong to. Sure enough, I am familiar with Alanis’ core work from the 90s, nobody with a television or radio could escape her, but many of my fellow attendees were in a different state altogether, mouthing all the lyrics in a trance. I also expected the fandom to be overwhelmingly female, which was not the case. Alanis seems to hover in a place all on her own within the canon.
• Kerala Dust (Akvárium, September 20)– the one which was solid but I still somehow felt that they’re the kind of band who sounds better on a record, at least to me.
• José Gonzalez (MÜPA, September 27)– the one where we very politely kept our phones away until the last song then everyone suddenly decided to go rogue and filmed Teardrop. And he still has a talent for capturing your full attention while being a lone man with a guitar in the middle of an empty stage.
• Christian Löffler (MÜPA, October 21)– the one that felt a little schizoid. I am all for genre bending, but the marriage between Löffler’s electronic beats and classical instruments did not always feel the smoothest and happiest. The best part was definitely the polite mini rave at the end, and then the fox we spotted as we were walking towards the HÉV station.

Balthvs/Nasip Kismet (Turbina, November 21)-the one we forgot about (it was a tough year, I am telling you). But every now and then it’s somebody from the band itself calling you to remind you about where you need to be. A big thanks to our dear friend Derya from Nasip Kismet for putting up with us. So, for once, the photo output is of the required quality.

Balthvs

Nasip Kismet

Films

Once more, I failed at watching as many films as I would have liked to and missed out on ones I was in fact looking forward to (note the conspicuous absence of Wes Anderson’s latest from the list). Since this is becoming a chronic phenomenon, I tried to analyse it somewhat. I always start the year strong- the dark days of January and February are propitious for dwelling in cinema halls, but then resolve becomes weaker as the light of summer arrives with its many alternative temptations. Before I could settle back into the routine in autumn, December comes with its relentless holiday undertakings. And while I’ve made significant progress in regaining some semblance of an attention span, watching a film in its entirety, without pauses for laundry and such like, on a streaming platform, at home, remains beyond my current skill set. We did go to Bem cinema quite frequently- to rewatch classics, some of which we may never have seen in a cinema hall. With its adjacent café/pub it’s the perfect summer film venue, and they do have current releases as well, so the plan is to make better use of their catalogue going onwards. And start strong with an attempt at watching a full streamed film, with Kelly Reichardt’s The Mastermind.

• Anora– watched it at an early screening, the only other spectators were a group of friends who chose it because the timing worked best for all of them. Their constant surprise at how the events were unfolding could have served as the subject of a great study on our expectations of modern cinema.
• The Zone of Interest -my greatest achievement inasmuch as I watched it in German- with German subtitles, given the strangeness of online availability.
• A Complete Unknown -I surprised myself by really liking this one in spite of my doubts over both Bob Dylan and Timothée Chalamet.
• A Real Pain– also came with a brilliant audience, including an older gentlemen who spent some time wondering where he knows Jesse Eisenberg from, to conclude that it must be the ‘film about the Zuckerman who has the Facebook’.
• The Murderess -a moody and bleak gem from Greece, adapted from a novella by Alexandros Papadiamantis, in which one encounters a very different side of Greek island life.
• Flow– a somewhat shoddily drawn group of cute animals survives a Biblical flood. The film’s Latvian director seemed about just as surprised as anyone else that the conceit actually works, but it does, superbly.
• Black Dog -another moody and bleak gem, this time from a desert world at the edge of China- must be something in the air these days.
• The Room Next Door– an elegant film about dying, Tilda and Julianne are great, but it’s still among my least favourite Almodóvars. At times it felt a little incomplete, as if only scratching at the surface of some elusive revelation.
• Super Happy Forever– another elegant film about dying. Less ambitious than The Room Next Door, it nevertheless felt more insightful and genuinely touching.
• Father Brother Sister Mother– an interesting parallel, this film is the most recent winner of the Golden Lion in Venice, and The Room Next Door was the previous one. And this happens to be my least favourite Jarmusch (the bar in both cases is very high, to be clear). Similarly to Almodóvar’s film, it seems to be a ‘best of’ of the author’s tropes and idiosyncrasies, placed in the hands of brilliant actors, and tailored just so for a larger audience, and perhaps a festival jury. The first of the three vignettes remains my favourite, with some superbly awkward and hilarious interactions between the three characters, while the second one is the flattest- almost too pretty, like a Saint Laurent ad (head designer Anthony Vaccarello collaborated on the film) with the faintest hint of a backstory.

Albums

Even before we start: this list does not contain Geese’s Getting Killed, which seems to be the album everyone who wants to be known to be in the know has adored this year, including Nick Cave listening to it after having taken a dip in a frigid pond. Nick has been a guiding light on many topics, but on these two, I shall pass.

It has however been built on the backbone of a considerably longer list I kept religiously from the beginning of the year. I made it my goal to listen to albums end to end, and least once. I sourced them from recommendations of outlets I trust, and also, partially, from the much maligned algorithm, with the principle that if a song catches my ear, I will listen to the full album it belongs to. I found the practice enlightening, and intend to keep to it in the year to come. As a collateral result of my listening focus having shifted, I did find compiling a list of songs much harder than in previous years- a longer collaborative playlist comes to complete the picture.

• Gizmo Varillas- Into the Night -which somehow ended up as my most played album of the year in Spotify Wrapped, likely on account of being among the first to be released from this year’s lot.
• Pulp-More -when an ‘old school band’ actually has new ideas.
• Suede-Antidepressants-along with Guitar and Essex Honey, this was the soundtrack of the mornings during my September holiday- I tried to ditch my headphones for the rest of the day- and they have become intimately connected to a gentle feeling of bliss, a calmness out of time.
• Mac DeMarco-Guitar
• Blood Orange- Essex Honey
• Ethel Cain-Willoughby Tucker, I’ll Always Love You– full disclosure, I was only moderately aware of Cain and her oeuvre, and only decided to listen to the album more carefully after seeing some news snippets of a purported feud she may have with Lana Del Rey. At least now the two of them can happily coexist in my playlists, if not in the world at large.
• Rosalia-Lux -to have at least one of the ubiquitous albums of the year on the the list. Strangely enough, I always had plenty of interest for Rosalia, even when the genres she explored were very far away from my usual musical tastes, and I very much appreciate the chutzpah with which she executed such a leftfield move.
• The Horrors-Night Life -in many ways, a nostalgic choice, as it doesn’t really live up to their very best output, also, I am completely bummed that they cancelled their upcoming Budapest show.
• Mogwai- The Bad Fire– another early release that had staying power. I did actually pay attention to this detail and noticed that on many end of year lists later releases were prevalent, because, alas, listeners are fickle and forget
• Cate Le Bon- Michelangelo Dying -which I started listening to mostly on account of it having been partially recorded at the Old Carpet Factory, but then it gradually grew on me for good.

Songs

• Rosalia-Berghain -I hated it until I liked it.
• Tycho feat. Paul Banks-Boundary Rider -the man who soundtracked my youth meets the man who soundtracks my editing of Excel sheets. I leave you to guess who is who.
• Baxter Dury- Albarone– for I am a sucker for deadpan deliveries and weird pronunciation
• Nation of Language- Inept Apollo– a silly title for a ridiculously catchy song, what is there not to like
• Pulp- Spike Island– here is a man who soundtracked my teens soundtracking that part of my life where I sometimes wake up like I’ve been one of the 300 at Thermopylae only because the mattress was not elastic enough. And he slays at both.
• Robyn-Dopamine– it’s enough for Robyn to unleash one song a year, and the world is a better place for it.
• Franz Ferdinand-Black Eyelashes– admittedly the most weak minded choice on the list, on account of liking it primarily because Alex Kapranos takes a dive into his Greek heritage and taverna rhythms create a fascinating cognitive dissonance against an indie backdrop. An that Kolonaki name check.
• Gizmo Varillas-Into the Night– again, this might be some sort of a Latino-sounds Stockholm syndrome. I mean, I have tickets to an Alvaro Soler concert for next year, I think I am sliding down a slippery slope.
• Haim-Down to be wrong– listening to the whole album only to find that song I kept humming while opening the fridge to see if I have enough cheese (I do, always.)
• Anyma-Voices in My Head– ever since I dissed Avicii only to realise later in life what an ultimate banger Levels is- not only because it’s a perfect earworm, but also because it conveys something fundamental about the zeitgest- I will always have all the time in the world for the currently reigning techno uberhit
• CMAT- Euro Country– leave it to the Irish to sound catchy as hell while singing about niche stuff. Let this woman put EU regulations to music, and the world will be a better place.

Books

• Solvej Balle- On the Calculation of Volume I-III– a woman is trapped in the 18th of November, she’s been trapped there for three volumes now, and will remain trapped for four more. A mesmerising, unsettling experience.
• Antonio Tabucchi- Pereira Maintains -a case of rereading a book later in life, and finally understanding it.
• Vincenzo Latronico-Perfection – I am fascinated by the criticism of how superficial and empty the book is, when that is the whole point, a mirror being held up to people of a certain age- my age, let’s admit it, and the idiosyncrasies of our generation.
• Samantha Harvey- Orbital -a slight, wondrous book, with brilliantly poignant observations about our lives and the great beyond.
• Brenda Chamberlain- A Rope of Vines (Journal from a Greek Island) -I already raved about it in this year’s ‘Hydra entry‘
• Orhan Pamuk-Memories of Distant Mountains– a curated collection of journal excerpts illustrated with Pamuk’s drawings- it feels unfair how someone can be talented at more than one thing, but such is life. The ultimate coffee table book with content you’ll be genuinely interested in, including musings on the craft of writing and painting.
• Pico Iyer- Aflame-I picked this book up looking mostly for guidance on how to quiet my mind- I find that very hard. And yes, for the Leonard Cohen cameos I knew it would contain. What I wasn’t aware of was the connection to the Californian forest fires, so the most surprising part was how the two strands- silent retreats and forests aflame- become interwoven in a vision that makes complete sense
• Robert Perisić– A Cat at the End of the World– I am not fully at peace with the English title, it seems to try and lodge the book in the recent trend of cute cat stories, while, admittedly, it was the drawing on the Hungarian cover (of a cat…) which caught my eye. The original title, and that of the Hungarian translation as well, is Boat to Issa, and it suits the story much better. Set in the 4th century BC, between the cities of Siracusa and Issa (now Vis, Croatia) it is one of those wondrous books that can be read in so many ways- children’s book, historical fiction, philosophical treatise. My absolute favourite of the year.
• Cixin Liu- The Dark Forest– another book that contains multitudes. I found it a little hard to get going, partly because I read the first volume in series, The Three Body Problem, a while ago and partly because occasionally Liu’s science is discombobulating to the laywoman, but once I got into the stride, there was no putting it down.
• Kapka Kassabova- Elixir (A Voyage into Alchemy)– I sometimes like to shock my system with something completely out of my comfort zone, such as traditional herbal medications. I’ve always held a steadfast belief in modern medicine, and felt many ‘natural’ concoctions to be the delusions of quacks and zany people. But Kassabova has a way of suspending your disbelief with her prose and her lived experience, and I have since tried some herbal remedies and while eternal life still eludes me, I’ve also suffered no harm.
• Goran Vojnović- Yugoslavia, My Fatherland– I quickly packed this one for the above mentioned ‘Jean-Michel Jarre expedition’ on account of it being set in the former Yugoslavia, but without knowing that the city of Pula itself plays a major part. As most of Vojnović’s work, it is a balanced and insightful account of the implosion of a country, and what such an event does to its people. It also has one a final sentence which is both incredibly beautiful and tremendously sad. It haunts me ever since.