Premiere: Hayley Taylor wrangles regret on new song, ‘1983’

If we’re not too careful, we end up living a life of regret, and that weight will follow you through to the afterlife. Whether you allow dreams to slip away as soapy balloons or lack the courage to tell that special someone exactly how you feel, a lifetime can pass you by before you know it. Experimental dream-pop’s Hayley Taylor heaves an exasperated sigh with her new cut called “1983,” premiering today, and in between cosmic layers of space-synths and a milky melody, she is able to wield her own brand of courage. “Once we were wild and dreamt the future without doubt / But all these trials left us feeling we’d never work out,” she uncorks the existential doom right from the outset. The production sparkles around her, a fragile, yet still potent, juxtaposition against a weepy lyrical backdrop.

“But it didn’t have to be like this / I wish that we could go back to being innocent,” she mourns her youth and wasted time, the hook twisting the emotional rivets even deeper to the bone. She continues, wistful tears streaming down her cheeks, “It didn’t have to be this hard to figure out / That we would let each other down.” Nearly four minutes, the star-swept stunner, produced by Josh Grondin (The Hanks, Sam Valdez), alongside minimalist contributions from Anthony Burulcich (The Bravery) and John Morrical (Mr. Little Jeans, Charli XCX), submerses Taylor’s whole being in a foamy sea of vindication. Time seems to stop, if even for a moment, before it resumes its relentless pace.

On the song, Taylor writes to B-Sides & Badlands over email, “‘1983’ is a song about finding the courage to tell someone you love them,” she says. “It’s about the trials of friendship and love and how sometimes our fears can grow greater than our desire for love ⏤ how instead of opening up, we can shut down and lose moments. It’s about the realization we must own our truth or we will be left with regret.”

Later, her words are framed with such poetic simplicity that they carve out a 20-foot deep trench of universality. “And it’s funny how you can live in the same damn town, just a mile apart / But walk around with such heavy hearts, as if you were oceans apart,” the ache in her ribs sends a quake throughout her skeleton, rattling and wrecking every membrane and cell in its wake. Harvesting her roots in classic piano background, the Michigan-born, Los Angeles-raised musician bends her work as light fractured on a mirror: it dazzles with human frailty. Such musical electricity glows red hot, yet even as she owns up to her own faults at play here, there remains an overwhelming sorrow, too.

Listen below:

Follow Taylor on her socials: Twitter | Facebook | Instagram | Website