A sudden lack of concentration; mindless skipping through the hallways; a steep increase in girlish giggles. Yep, I have got myself a new boyfriend. So, not only am I basking in the mindless joy of this new love interest with the obvious symptoms, I’m also reveling in the moment with music. Now, the songs soundtracking this new relationship may not fit the average stereotype of a love song. After all, there’s not a “Take My Breath Away” or even a “Wonderwall” in the bunch. This current crop of love songs will never get played at my prom, but so what? These songs are about twenty times cooler than Whitney and definitely less clichéd.

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah - Is This Love?

Everyone’s favorite indie underdogs may not exactly typify that newfound butterflies-in-your-stomach feeling. The title of this one gives it away, though I’m still not sure this song is even about love. Might be about aliens, though I think that about most CYHSY tracks. But it fits with my mood nonetheless, for I obtained a really smart and really adorable boy. What better to listen to than intellectual Technicolor indie? The “whoa” of the background harmony and sheer energy makes me spin in my computer chair and think about hugs. Bouncy guitar riffs really are love.

Idlewild - Paint Nothing

There is nothing more romantic than buying your loved one a sketchbook. Even if that gift makes him/her so depressed that they can’t even look at you properly anymore, which is (sort of) the gist of the lyrics. But whatever—just pay attention to the mood of this giddy pop-punk. The near-pretentious metaphor of escaping one’s oppressive art school equals new-love thrill. I’m drugged with that same abdication of any and all responsibility I have to act sane. Throw open the doors, let the sunshine in, and draw to your soul’s content. Even if it’s just moronic doodles of hearts and cupids.

Graham Coxon - Bittersweet Bundle of Misery

The best way to tell someone how you really feel is to fully explain how much of a pain in the neck they are. Let your honey know that they are mean, annoying, and not as fun as they used to be. It helps to set such a sentiment to a ten dollar-lo-fi tune, especially sung in a charmingly poor British accent. Mr. Coxon understands this perfectly—many ladies have been beguiled by such tact, I’m sure. And if the couplet of rhyming “happily ever after” with “dafter” doesn’t bring a lovesick smile to your face, I don’t know what else will.

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