Flint Presents: Top 15 Albums of 2024
It's 2024 Albums of the Year (right now, at this very moment in mid-December 2024 anyway)!
December rolls along and another year full of music has concluded. 2024 has been a consistently good for tunes: plenty of exciting albums that will keep me company for years to come, exciting discoveries from both brand new acts and older parties who I've only gotten into now, and some releases which might not have made much of an impact this time around but might surprise later on when they suddenly re-appear in my life. You know it's a good year when writing down your favourite albums of the year for Listmas is effortless, and when there's a little bit of competition and debate who gets the final placements before the cut off.
As per usual, I've rounded up my 15 favourite albums of the year, in a wholly biased manner that completely accounts for not just my taste but also how these releases have tangled up into my life, abhorring any kind of objectivity. These fifteen albums are ones I've consistently thought about during the year and the names of which pop up in my head when I start to simply think about 2024 in music. Why fifteen? Because ten is not enough to share all the music I love these days, but there also needs to be some point in listing one's highlights of the year instead of pretty much everything I laid my ears on. 15 has felt like a good, solid middle ground for a while now.
This is also my first Album of the Year list I write up not just on this blog, but in a blog in general for the first time in years. All my historic entries can be found on RateYourMusic, but I do genuinely cherish the opportunity to be a little more fun with formatting etc over here.
Before we get to the main event, some honourable mentions that either couldn't make it or didn't qualify for the main list:
- Manic Street Preachers - Lifeblood (20th Anniversary Deluxe Edition): reissue of the year, Manics celebrating one of the greatest albums of all time with a (near)-comprehensive selection of bonus material to celebrate this lost gem of a record. Genuinely exciting and fascinating demos and alternative versions the likes of which you rarely find in reissues.
- Curious Quail - Empty Victories: I discovered Curious Quail through Cohost this year and have been greatly enjoying their music over the past months. They released a couple of EPs in 2024, of which this is the "proper comeback" record after an extended break. Recommended for all fans of lushly arranged dramatic indie rock ca. 2005.
- Elbow - Audio Vertigo: when this album came out, I was hooked on it for a couple of weeks and then I promptly forgot about it altogether until digging it out again while going through 2024 albums for this list, and found myself transfixed with it again. I'm placing it in the hon menchs because I don't feel right adding it in here if I forgot about it for most of the year, but maybe in a future update (on RYM, where these lists get updated ever so often)?
- Ashley Ninelines - Cheshire Days: Ninelives' jump into hyperpop is so dense and bewildering that I'm still untangling it, but I also find myself enchanted by it. Another one to watch out for, perhaps...
- Grandaddy - Blu Wav: ended up falling out of list because the album's a bit too one note, but that wistfully melancholy, stargazing note is a really lovely one when it hits just right.
- Cheating here because at the time of writing, the official soundtrack for Sonic x Shadow Generations isn't out (25th December release date, go Japan!) but I've heard the music plenty as I've played what is Game of the Year 2024, and hoo gosh it sure does slap.
And with that, onto the main list!
Flint Presents: Top 15 Albums of 2024
15. BENTLEY JONES - MEMORIAM
Jones released Memoriam as a celebration of their 15-year career under that moniker (they've had a whole number of artist names over the years) and its aim is to represent all facets of their music across that decade and a half. There are covers of songs from Sonic the Hedgehog games in tribute to the series that many were introduced them through (Jones has collaborated with Sonic Team a number of times, most famously singing and co-writing the much-beloved "Dreams of an Absolution" from Sonic '06), including yours truly; songs in Japanese in honour of Jones' successful recording career there; re-recordings and re-imaginations of songs from their earliest albums; unashamedly and unabashedly queer anthems to celebrate their personal journey; there's cheeky floor-fillers and also deeply personal emotions in an almost 50/50 ratio. This isn't just a collection of music, but a song-driven biography - and it's a hefty summary at that, clocking at whopping 20 songs and 77 minutes long. That's before you consider that's just Volume 1 AKA the first disc, and there's still a second disc which consists of various alternative mixes and versions to complement the main album. That's before realising their Youtube channel contains a couple more alternative versions.
Memoriam is a lot and it takes a while to get under its surface, and it's by no means among the most consistent albums on this list: I'm also not sure all the best versions of these songs were included on the main disc. But that said, the album is here because, ultimately, those quibbles have started to feel so small once the album started wrapping its finger around me. The key things that make this mammoth of a record an exciting listen are Jones' charisma and their ability to craft a melody. Jones can really belt out a tune and their voice is always on the spotlight of these songs, and you can downright hear their smiles and smirks as they work their way through melodies that they know are rock solid. Memoriam may be long but it's an album made out of sharply-striking pop could-be-hits and the songs don't take any time to get through and become part of your daily life, playing in your head first thing in the morning and randomly weaving their way into your heart - and that's when their heart is revealed too. Memoriam is a tribute to the triumphs and trials of Jones' career so far, and they vividly throw themselves into every song with that lived-in love and experience for their chosen art form.
The final thing that tipped this over the finishing line and up to #15 on this list is honest anecdotal and fully personal bias. I attended the adorably small (their first year!) Sonic Con UK in 2024 on a whim very quickly after learning it was a thing to begin with, and Jones was one of its key guests: they both closed the main convention with a small concert, and then followed it with an after-party DJ set later in the evening. I had such a great time being a total dweeb for a day (and bless my partner for putting up with me) and it was actually there that I picked up a (signed) copy of this album, directly from Jones while a friend of mine and I were chatting with them about their music and their relationship to the series. They were wonderfully courteous and friendly, and the short set of Sonic-focused songs closing the gig was a really lovely cherry on top for a geeky day out. I'm somewhere in the sea of voices in this performance clip (mercifully the video crops out right before the row I sat in so you can't see me), and the memory of that both seals "I'm Gud Babe" as one of my songs of the year for me and this album's place in this list.
Check also: Hard Times in the Icecap | Aurora
14. BRIGHT EYES - FIVE DICE, ALL THREES
The initial impression was that Conor Oberst (and Mogis and Walcott) wanted to take a step back and simplify. 2020's comeback album Down in the Weeds, Where the World Once Was was (and is) a looming monolith of emo: Oberst letting all his demons out through the gates in celebration of his main project's return, and arranging the music to match with flashy kitchen sink productions and towering crescendos. In contrast, the first songs we heard from Five Dice, All Threes were the rollicking feel-good-but-not-really singalong "Bells and Whistles" and the rowdy highway-speeding shoutalong "Rainbow Overpass" - both songs which are distinguished by their more direct approach and as undecorated as Bright Eyes can get in 2024.
The same carries across to some degree across the board but if you were looking for an all-around freewheeling fun time, it doesn't take long for Oberst and his cohorts to divert course and fall back into their melancholy mindset. Five Dice, All Threes is by and far familiar territory if you've kept up with Bright Eyes - Oberst pours his heart out about himself, the people he's losing his grip on and the world around him as all three continue to get bleaker, set to a series mostly mid-tempo pieces where each rousing finale is a defiant rise against the tide and each upbeat melody sounds seemingly ironic as it laughs at the face of everything. The aforementioned looser vibe largely comes through in the songs sounding like they were put together with everyone in the same room rather than placed together piece by piece: the sort of album that comes together after a successful comeback tour and once the crew is back in that mindset. It sounds the "smallest" a Bright Eyes album has been since long before their initial hiatus even started.
So there is an arguable downside in that there's a relative lack of novelty with Five Dice, All Threes, but... well, it's a Bright Eyes album and it was always going to end up in my list, and it's justified given how rock solid good it is. Oberst is one of my favourite songwriters and voices, and more Bright Eyes means more Bright Eyes, and that still isn't a formula that would ever look to disappoint. Oberst's confessionals are as gripping as ever and though more straightforward than last time, the deep cuts reveal exciting twists and turns during moments when you thought you had the album figured out, and the songs overall unveil new layers each time you come back to the album, and I still don't think I've fully uncovered everything they have to offer at this stage. In its current standing, it's proven to be a reliable blast of good times (with miserable songs).
Check also: All Threes | Trains Still Run on Time
13. LOUIS COLE WITH METROPOLE ORKEST & JULES BUCKLEY - NOTHING
I go hit and miss with the intricate funkmaster and quixotic Youtube performance creator Louis Cole, and the last couple of times it's been misses: his last solo album (2022's Quality Over Opinion) left little to no impression on me and last year's long-awaited second KNOWER album was so badly mixed and produced that it sunk what the album aimed to do. But in 2024 Cole's back with a vengeance - and this time he has a full orchestra with him.
Nothing isn't quite as simple as just "Louis Cole with an orchestra". It is of course that as well, and it's not choosy about which side of Cole the orchestra gets to work with: his foot-tapping funk anthems, tenderly sweeping pop giants, KNOWER-esque chaotic gremlin energy and his humorously eccentric side are all represented here. The orchestra isn't just set dressing for the songs (all of which bar two are brand new) either, but they're integrally woven into the songs and they form as much of the songs' core as the rhythm section or the co-lead choir do - you can't separate one from the other, and that's not all too common with exercises like these. Collaborating with an orchestra seems to have really kindled a fire with Cole's songwriting too and whether it's earwormy melodies or backbone-tapping instrumental jam sections, he's coming up with his sharpest cuts in recent memory.
But the secret weapon Nothing carries in its sleeve are the couple of moments where Cole simply lets the orchestra take the center stage. We already knew he was a great composer and arranger but not like this - not with just a classical orchestra, embracing an entirely different genre so gorgeously. The heart of the album beats in these fully instrumental suites, particularly the title track and the absolutely stunning 11-minute "Doesn't Matter". They're yearningly, hauntingly beautiful parts of the album that I didn't expect from this album, and they make me want to hear more of where they came from.
Check also: These Dreams Are Killing Me | Doesn't Matter
12. LAURI PORRA - AINEEN JA AJAN MESSU / MATTER AND TIME
Continuing with the orchestral theme, Aineen ja ajan messu by Lauri Porra (Stratovarious bassist, great-grandson of Finnish composer legend Jean Sibelius and the current creative director of the Vantaa Orchestra) was originally composed and performed all the way back in 2018. 2024 finally saw its release as a recorded piece and in two different versions at that, as the narration-heavy piece has been translated into and performed in English with the overseas audiences in mind. The Finnish version is narrated by the actor Tommi Korpela, but the English version (called Matter and Time) is hosted by Stephen Fry which is in all likelihood enough to get some of the people reading this automatically intrigued (the sung parts are performed by Pintandwefall's Ringa Manner in both versions, with lyrics by PMMP's Paula Vesala - it's a star-studded show if you're a Finn!).
Aineen ja ajan messu - "A Mass of Matter and Time" - is a grandiose song cycle about life, the universe and the beginning and end of everything, arranged for a full orchestra, vocals and select rock band instruments. The focus is on the contributions by the Vantaa Orchestra, with the drums, guitars and programmed elements only appearing to add a rush of energy or muscle in select parts that the orchestra perhaps couldn't quite reach on its own. The core of the work comes across downright devotional (hence the mass) but it flares up with bursts of prog rock and cinematically sweeping centrepiece moments, bringing it to life in unexpected ways from fully instrumental classical suites to stargazing rock ballads. It's an interconnected suite, split into ten parts but ultimately a singular piece of work where there's a linear story told through both music and words, as the dramatic arcs and emotional sweeps are painted with album-long strokes. The universe is born and eventually ends, the dawn of man is followed by both promise and strife, until the album leaves the listener on a cliffhanger as it hangs an open question mark on the technology that may outlive us, either by our choice or not.
And it's stunningly beautiful. At times breathtaking. I know, I'm a sucker for grand orchestral crescendos like this anyway, but then you also add in the existential joy and sadness of the "story" which both uplift and punch you in the gut in equal measures. The narrative pieces pave way and foreshadow what's to come around the corner, and then the music pulls you away into this imagination-rich experience told through strings, brass, woodwinds and other accrued tools. It's the sort of ride that makes you contemplative of how small you are in one moment, and explosively overjoyed that you get to be a part of it all the next. Aineen ja ajan messu is perhaps the biggest curveball surprise of the year for me, which I only checked out after a particular review mentioning some of the star power behind it piqued my interest, and sometimes I question myself if I'm really so attached to this random modern classical piece as to include it among my highlights of the year - but each time I listen to it I end up floored in awe of its presence. Now just release it on CD, goddamnit.
Check also: Fall of Man | Tietoisuus
11. PATRICIA TAXXON - BICYCLE
The algorithm did good, for once. I had never heard of Patricia Taxxon until YouTube decided to feature the full-album upload of this release on my front page's recommendations in early January, and I clicked out of curiosity simply because of that sublime cover image. I didn’t know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t something I’d be writing about nearly a full year later.
Bicycle is about freedom, about personal liberation. Its mostly instrumental, electronic compositions flicker between strains of ambient and what I would cautiously call indietronica (small reference pools, I know), sometimes hectic and flurry and other times meditatively shimmering. The shared common thread running across all eight songs is the evocative wide open space that's conjured through the hazy and contemplative soundscape. To pull directly from the album’s imagery, the album conjures the sense of taking an impromptu cycling trip to the wild outdoors with no clear destination, time constraints or any real aim - and finally finding a peace of mind and space to breath somewhere in the valleys and plains outside the urban world that your wanderlust has taken you. The detail-rich arrangements create vivid sonic zones that allow for your imagination to run free. It's music that so wonderfully crafts a particular mental scenery around the listener that you can't help but continue thinking about the album long after it's finished. Even if you can't necessarily hum any of its songs off memory at first, that presence lingers and calls you back.
But if you want to pinpoint the exact reason why Bicycle ultimately makes it here, it's the final run of songs which turns it from a good album to a borderline great one. "Brotherhood" is blissed-out and wistful, downright vulnerable with the glacial threads it weaves. "Big Wheel" is one of the two songs where Taxxon's vocals appear and it's the moment where the song cycle's implicit emotions are turned explicit, and it's such a resonantly powerful rush of feeling that it feels like you're watching the finale of a film you've been glued onto and the long-adrift pair you're cheering for are finally united. The soaring, free-running “I Do” after it is the grand finale, almost a rave anthem in this context, which rolls the credits with earnest joy as it rushes through the highway. Those songs left such a strong imprint in my mind from the first listen that they made me come back to the album, over and over again - and ultimately sealed its place on this list, proudly standing as the glorious conclusion to what is generally a gentle, beautiful and personal record.
Check also: Brotherhood | Big Wheel
10. REMI WOLF - BIG IDEAS
“Cinderella” was the song of the summer 2024, in my house anyway. The sleek, suave feel-good funk pop anthem is full of smooth arrangements, big hooks, small hooks (ding!) and radiant personality, courtesy of Ms. Wolf herself. She’s the real star of the song, loud and bright in the spotlight as she flicks her delivery across the range from softly cooing to confidently bratty and back again, all the while wrapping her little finger around the listener. It’s everything a perfect summer hit should be all about: warm, bright, irresistably catchy and yet gets just better with each repeat. Shout out to the video as well - one of my favourites of the year, once again thanks to Wolf just being such a magnetic lightning ball of charisma.
Big Ideas isn’t all quite like “Cinderella” - and that’s the point. It’s her big second album and Wolf seizes the opportunity to showcase her versatility. She gracefully weaves through 80s-esquely bombastic pop (“Soup”), dramatically punchy sadcore indie (“Alone in Miami”), arena rock (“Wave”), flirty disco pop (“Toro”) and everything in between in one big melting pot. Her larger-than-life voice and charisma bring it all together into one unified vision, striking the heart as much as it does the dance-itching feet. It’s all warm and personal and soulful, where even during the moments where Wolf reveals something a little bit more personal than reminding she likes wine (seriously, take a shot every time she mentions grape juice on the album) the songs still sound like everyone had the time of their lives putting them together.
To put it simply, Big Ideas was the big burst of earnest sunshine that penetrated through even the darkest parts of the year. It's never been a day that Wolf hasn't managed to brighten with her glowing presence.
(Bonus props for the “bonus track” that appears on every edition of the album - which 20 years earlier would have been a hidden track after about 5 minutes of silence and it ticks all the boxes for that - because “Slay Bitch” is one of the stupidest, campiest things I’ve heard all year and I love every moment of it. It makes me at least 20% gayer every time I dance to it in my room)
Check also: Soup | Alone in Miami
9. SUICIDE DOORS - SUICIDE DOORS
I was hooked and ready for Suicide Doors’ debut the moment I stumbled upon the first single “Your Heart Is Melting” last year. The title drop (“YOUR HEART! IS! MEL! TING!”) did not leave my head for days and the almost-brutality of that vocal melody punch combined with the hypnotic richness of the rest of the song was so alluring, so irresistible. Each single drop afterwards was reassuring but it was still great to hear just how well the album built upon those initial offerings.
The magic of Suicide Doors (and Suicide Doors) lies in the contrasts that practically define the sound. They’re like a goth band who decided to go Americana one day - not gothic Americana but pure bat cave post punk gloom ‘n’ doomers who suddenly disappeared in the US south. The arrangements and the core of the songwriting is full of lush detail and melodic immediacy, but the production and sound is cold and detached from the world, echoing through some distant dream. The two vocalists reflect this duality perfectly: Ben Ricketts’ higher tones sound right at home among the ethereal keyboards and lonely guitars, while Cody Rogers’ warm drawl pulls closer to the listener to greet and shake their hand. The two trade lines over haunting sound worlds, enchanting melody lines ringing into the wide space around them and a sturdy rhythm section that grounds these floating songs and gives them body and muscle.
It pulls you in deep. Suicide Doors is such an excellent, atmospheric journey with a confident grasp of both its own sound and songwriting. Its presence lingers around even when it's not on, the deep mood of it leaving a trace that urges you to come back to the album to explore it further, and each time a different song seems to jump out as a sudden highlight. It's an immediately grabbing introduction - in fact, this is the debut album of 2024, for me.
8. LITKU KLEMETTI - FUNNY GIRL
The last time we heard from Sanna “Litku” Klemetti (and the Litku Klemetti band), it was with 2022’s bombastic album-length ode to imposter syndrome and underperformance Asiatonta oleskelua. At the time Klemetti described it as her “Sanna album”; similarly, Funny Girl is billed as a “return to being Litku”. So we’re back to the retro-twinged fun of her usual fare, at least musically - we’re still not fully in feel-good party territory with the lyrics, though Klemetti’s cheeky grin is surfacing throughout (see track titles like “I’m in Love With Your Ex” and “Even My Mom Parties Harder”, or all the untranslatable puns).
Funny Girl harkens in spirit back to the pandemic lockdown italo disco experiment Kukkia muovipussissa, but its rich full-band arrangements are directly inherited from the last album. In other words, Klemetti and her crew are having eccentric fun throwing around their interpretation of bubblegum pop with a dash of unmistakably Finnish retro flair (at least to these Finnish ears), but they're thinking more ambitiously about it - keeping it less intentionally homegrown - than previously. Perky, bright synths accentuate Klemetti’s eccentric lyrics and vocal hooks, while her band has transformed into a tight and dynamic party machine group. They're the slickest they've ever been, without having sacrificed their heart and true self in the process.
I have no idea what my favourite mode of Litku Klemetti is - the further the gang forge ahead in their career, the more keen they seem to be to defy expectations. But through the changing production levels and stylistic aesthetics, the core of their music lies in Klemetti's rock 'n' roll bookworm vocals, her sharp and direct melodies and her backing band's chemistry in bringing it all together whether through vintage synths or fine guitars. Funny Girl is another feather in their cap, a little bit familiar but also something completely new - and it's both completely delightful as well as suddenly evocative when you least expect it (who could have thought a song called "If I Was a Dog" captured something so essential about being human?).
Check also: Rakastan sun exää | Jos olisin koira
7. EVERYTHING EVERYTHING - MOUNTAINHEAD
I've only been actively listening to Everything Everything for the past 12-to-18 months and I still haven't heard all their albums (I take my time), but to date my impression has been that they're not particularly an album-album band. They put a bunch of songs together and they all bang and slap in a decently thought out order, but they're not the kind of band who elicits insufferable music geeks to talk about the "flow of the album" and "dramatic arcs". So, Mountainhead sounds tangibly different in that regard. The band have gone for a concept album angle here (though they happily dip in and out of the concept throughout the record as they please) and it's got an immediate effect to how the album carries itself, its separate pieces linked by both the recurring lyrical themes and terminology used throughout as well as how the music is sequenced.
I don't know which is the byproduct of which, but other difference between this and the earlier albums is how the band's inate chaos is reigned in a little. A huge part of Everything Everything's unique magic is how they make their pop-melodic songs sound like frantic channel skipping where you're not even controlling the remote, and they take a step back here from it. Turns out, they're really goddamn good at just playing some excellent songs. The lead single "Cold Reactor" is a brilliant example: it's an earnestly stirring stadium anthem that pulls through the difficult task of making its deeply context-leaning lyrics sound universal by simply placing them within an evocatively building, no-punches-pulled hit that gloriously rushes towards its centrepiece chorus. The creative madness is still well and truly present - you can't escape it between Jonathan Higgs' erratically pogoing vocal range and the genre-blending sound - but there is an audibly tighter focus on some honest songcraft this time around, and it lends Mountainhead a vividly different feel.
And, well, I don't know if that necessarily makes it their best album (I should probably hear the couple I'm missing first) but it certainly makes it one of their most rewarding to spend time with. This has been the year's steadiest grower from me, where each listen not only made me fall deeper into the album's world but also made me want to come back for more. Bit by bit the deep cuts that had initially passed me completely by revealed themselves to be secret treasures, and the big hook tracks which pulled me in at first have simply kept getting even sharper. Mountainhead has continuously kept my on my toes throughout 2024 and each little layer it's revealed has made it even more exciting, and that makes it one of the year's clear stand-outs.
Check also: The End of the Contender | City Song
6. LOS CAMPESINOS! - ALL HELL
Great band plays great songs. That's it.
Los Campesinos (and I'm going to stop with that ! for now) didn't really seem like the kind of band who would ever gracefully mature and/or remain great. The strength of those early albums they blew the doors wide open with was practically attached to their downright arrogantly youthful bravado: the über-wordy, reference-heavy lyrics that were squarely aimed for hipster nerds from hipster nerds, powered by the melodrama of teenage emo and the rough edges of punk which were pushed through the aesthetics of twee pop in a way that should never have worked, but the sheer charisma of the stage-full of young musicians (all who had adopted the surname Campesinos!) pummeled it through until they did. And then they got older. Families happened, the cold realism of being in a marginally successful indie band happened and everyone progressed in their day jobs, somewhere along the line everyone dropped their gang names and replaced them with their legal monikers in the credits. That's not what young rapscallions are meant to do.
But they kept being great. The subtle and gradual yet stark transformation of Los Campesinos from quirky blogosphere names to seemingly the last stand of British emo has been a thing of marvel and has resulted in a series of later-period albums that fully rival the canonical early works. The wit, the thorns and the self-deprecating charm have remained but they've sharpened and become more accurate with experience, moving from youthful punchlines about messy relationships to insightfully sharp observations about the same (as well as the constant downfall of Normal Island and its modern politics). The wild students have become exasperated adults and rather than pretend they're still kids, the band have adapted their old ways masterfully to where they are now. Same goes for the music: it's still explosive and giddy and sometimes heartbreaking, but it's sleeker and suaver as you'd expect from a group of people who've refined their talent over nearly two decades. They still sound like the best of friends making noise together though - that hasn't changed.
All Hell represents Los Campesinos in 2024 perfectly, building on from the previous album (which came out in 2017!!) and not straying far from where you'd expect them to land, but again offering a more deftly executed and thoughtfully presented version of their sound. Gareth Paisey (née Campesinos) proves his worth as one of the best lyricists in the UK right now, and the band play their laments for the modern age and the lives we lead in it like they're a communal celebration and a gathering for a riot all at once. If there's a throughline to All Hell is that it sounds the most anthemic of Los Campesinos' albums, likely attributable to the long post-COVID tour where the band reconnected with their audiences: almost each song sounds like a fist-pumping live stand-out in the making. It's a great band playing great songs.
Check also: 0898 HEARTACHE | Holy Smoke (2005)
5. PORTER ROBINSON - SMILE! :D
Porter just wanted to have a little fun: something brighter and perkier after the emotional purge/healing process of Nurture which boosted his profile for an entirely new fanbase. Old habits die hard, though. Smile! :D is snappier and happier from the outset - you can definitely tell Robinson is having a lot more fun this time around - but that old imposter syndrome is still breaking through the cracks. Smile! :D isn't all smiles after all, quelle surprise - as if that over-the-top name didn't look like it was dripping in irony from the very beginning.
A surprisingly large amount of Smile! :D leans into it, in fact; the album's undeniable centrepiece "Russian Roulette" is built all around it as well, moving between musical segments as much as lyrical angles, capping with that cheeky Pitchfork reference is pure manna for us terminally blogosphere-raised indie hipsters who remember the reference. Here and there Robinson even directly nudges his sound towards a more "appropriate" indie sad guy realm, in particular with the contemplative melancholy of "Year of the Cup", the sad guitars of "Everything to Me" and the swooning yearning of "Is There Really No Happiness Without This Feeling?" which break the furthest away from his dance anthem roots than Porter's ever been. If anything, sometimes Smile! :D gives the impression that Robinson is trying to prove his range as a songwriter and I wouldn't be too surprised if by the time the next album hits, this will become seen as a transitional effort between his electronic roots and a more singer/songwriter approach. I don't know if that hypothetical future will be for better or worse, but here Robinson definitely proves that not only his knack for a great hook and affecting melody translate between genres, but that his confidence as a performer has gone through the roof. No longer does he feel the need to hide his voice behind filters and effects, and he sounds really good taking such a front and centre presence this time around.
But why Smile! :D stands out as a great album on its own two feet, instead of trying to repeat its predecessor's tone one-to-one, comes precisely from that willingness to just have a little bit of cheeky fun. The sassy sway of "Knock Yourself Out XD", the bubbly and frolicky "Perfect Pinterest Garden", the laidback swagger of "Kitsune Maison Freestyle" - these are the songs that the Fox household has been repeating the most all year round; the songs that have gotten so positively stuck in the head that you can't help but do a little groove while simply moving around the house. "Cheerleader" bulldozes through like a Myspace-era emo pop anthem that's jumped straight out from the year 2001, and it's four of the most exhilarating minutes of the entire year, all giddy and technicolour with hooks for days. It's just so much fun, and that also bleeds into the more obviously vulnerable material: see the chaotic rave rush and impish outro which closes off "Russian Roulette" or the sheer joy and liberation that bursts through the seams of the chorus of "Is There Really No Happiness...".
Smile! :D is both the hyper-happy pop album that Robinson wanted to make and the hyper-emotive introspective diary that so many of his fans coming off Nurture seemed to want him to make. That combination works surprisingly cohesively and results in one of the year's most repeatedly played albums.
Check also: Russian Roulette | Is There Really No Happiness Without This Feeling?
4. CASSANDRA JENKINS - MY LIGHT, MY DESTROYER
I'm sure Cassandra Jenkins spent a lot of time thinking how she should follow up the completely unprecedented success of 2021's An Overview on Phenomenal Nature, which out of nowhere connected with so many people who needed a shoulder to lean on after the mad COVID year just before (including yours truly - it still reigns as the AOTY 2021). Let's not forget, that was supposed to be Jenkins' farewell to music altogether before she'd hang up her guitar and just live an ordinary life working in a shop somewhere. And then suddenly she had an audience and a brand new pathway towards the future - all on the back of a handful of meditative, translucently gentle ambient folk songs that were very much born of a particular moment.
My Light, My Destroyer then is a gentle reboot for Jenkins' sound. You still get your contemplative mood pieces - "Omakase" and the number of atmospheric field recording interludes directly pick up from where the previous album left off - but they're mixed in with a number of tentative pathways for Jenkins to pick from next, most of which are a little livelier and seemingly built with the road on the mind (cruel reminder to myself how a sudden business trip prevented me from seeing her live). "Petco" crunches like classic MTV slacker rock slop, the americana twang of "Clams Casino" and "Aurora, IL" remind of her still-largely unknown debut album, "Only One" wraps itself in 80s art pop synthesizer textures and "Delphinium Blue" is a new age stargazer straight from the early 1990s. They serve to prove that Jenkins' music remains just as graceful even with a little kick underneath it; that she can have a little fun too while sounding authentically herself. And that her melodic hooks are just as effective when instead of lingering gently around the ears, they punch right in the face.
My Light, My Destroyer isn't quite to the heights of the previous album (which is a tall and unfair ask, admittedly) but it, more than An Overview..., establishes Jenkins as one of the most captivating, transcendental songwriter voices currently going. Every style she touches across the album sounds uniquely like her, and together they blend into a hypnotic concoction that's just as home playing loud from the speakers on a bright summer's day as it is coming through intimate headphones in the quiet wee hours of the night. It has tangible presence, ethereally wrapping around the space it's playing in and presenting some of the best 36 minutes you could spend time with during 2024.
Check also: Delphinium Blue | Omakase
3. PET SHOP BOYS - NONETHELESS
I dislike the phrase "return to form" because the form itself is so nebulous. Typically the phrase is used in the context of artists first having experimented with their art for an album cycle which alienated everyone who expected more of the same, followed by returning with something more conventional for easy appraisal and calls of, well, "return to form". But even if it goes against my own code, Nonetheless really does feel like a true return to form. The previous two PSB albums (2016’s Super and 2020’s Hotspot) were barely albums, and rather seemed to composed of scattershot ideas haphazardly put together simply for the sake of something to do and release; they had their highs but they were missing a certain je ne sais quoi Pet Shop Boys spirit that their discography then to date had always had through its ups and down. That spirit is fully back with Nonetheless, and it’s the most vital PSB in years.
Nonetheless also makes the case for artists being able to keep their sound fresh even if they don’t inject anything new into the proceedings. Nonetheless isn’t an exploratory attempt or a conceptual experiment, and in fact parts of it directly reference the Boys’ past. Sweeping synth pop stompers with orchestral bombast blowing behind, delicate ballads with a mix of synth and live instruments (or cunning facsimile samples of), a retro-affected bop featuring Tennant’s wry gentlemanly “rapping”, jubilantly queer lyrical themes over deftly arranged soundscapes… these are all familiar tropes from throughout the group’s 40-year career. But they sound rejuvenated and refreshed, like all these ideas were brand new once more - it’s as if they had a point to prove not necessarily for the audience but for the duo themselves, that they’ve still got the magic touch.
Nonetheless is a bold, gorgeous album. Lead single “Loneliness” melodramatically bulldozes its way immediately into the Boys’ golden pantheon of legendary singles, “Why Am I Dancing?” and “Feel” burst through with a glimmer of synth pop at its best, “Bullet for Narcissus” brings out their more inspiredly twisted side once more in the grand tradition of PSB deep cuts, “The Schlager Hit Parade” is the kind of quirky oddity only these two could not only deliver but pull off. Tennant’s lyrical wit and charm are out in full force, knee-deep in both political and personal history and conjuring whimsical scenarios that stick with you, and his voice still radiates with charisma. Some would scoff at the mere idea of a group four decades into their career delivering something this vital, but in 2024 I’ve been revisiting the PSB discography in chronological order as part of my wider review projects, and listening to those older albums alongside Nonetheless really underlines how comfortably it slots among the duo’s (many) highlights. This sounds like an ode to what the Pet Shop Boys are all about, while also delivering a front-to-back experience which stands as its own defined statement.
(And kudos to the best singles campaign of 2024, by ignoring all modern conventions and releasing proper CD singles with plentiful b-sides and music videos in steady intervals long after the album has been out)
Check also: Why Am I Dancing? | Bullet for Narcissus
2. FATHER JOHN MISTY - MAHASHMASHANA
I would love to provide insightful commentary (the first time in this list I know) on how Mahashmashana has found its way so near the top of this list even though it was released in mid-November and considering the glacial pace I digest music. It would be so great if I could do stirring analysis on how the lyrics of this album tie into the supposed death of the Father John Misty persona which is the hot rumour mill topic right now, how Tillman could potentially have built this as the ultimate monument for his alternate persona before he buries the good old Father and becomes just Josh Tillman again. Maybe one day when I write a proper review of this album, I will. Right now - I can't stop thinking about three songs in particular. And if you know the album, you know which ones I'm talking about: the three giants that loom over all the other songs with their scope and scale.
"Screamland" is quite possibly the song of the year. Where everything else on the album is decorated with a sense of bombastic awe and grace to create the kind of old-school string-laden grandeur he so adores, the walls of sound in "Screamland" are pure clipped dissonance and pained release - it sounds what the title indicates, as Tillman bellows against the crashing walls of pure texture before he retreats into the uneasy safety of the quiet verses. It's still disquietingly phenomenal, each listen. The cruise-ship-at-the-apocalypse lounge disco marvel "I Guess Time Just Makes Fools Us All" a few tracks later couldn't be any more different and yet hits that exact same level of incredible in its audacity, wit and sass while staring down at the audience and the rest of the human race; the lyrical narrator of Pure Comedy (2017) trapped in a lounge lizard purgatory. The title track opens the album with what is perhaps the most Father John Misty -esque song ever fatherjohnmistied, stretched and blown out as big as possible just to make a point about being the most over the top moment of orchestral bliss he's ever unleashed - and it still sounds so earnest, so directly staring into the listener's eyes, that it wraps you into little bubble where just you and the song exists. Again, breathtaking.
The rest of Mahashmashana has absolutely nothing to be ashamed of: I particularly adore the three-day-bender rock and roll of "She Cleans Up" and the intimate slow dance of "Summer's Gone" which closes the record. If the album is intended to sum up Father John Misty's journey, it certainly proves why Tillman's alter ego has been responsible for one of the most exciting, ecstatic runs of albums of the 2010s and beyond. It's a real mix of emotions from crying to laughter, and especially crying while laughing, and Tillman channels it through a series of fantastic long-form lyrics, superb showmanship performance, lush arrangements and gripping melodies. You do get the feeling that it's like season 6 of a TV show with an ongoing plot and so newcomers may not make as much sense out of it as the veterans, that Misty is speaking to his established audience and building his songs with them in mind. But for this long-time fan certainly, Mahashmashana is a real rush of glory in all its theatre.
Check also I Guess Time Just Makes Fools of Us All | Mahashmashana
1. YARD ACT - WHERE'S MY UTOPIA?
2020s have seen an influx of dry & wry British post-punk bands, and we've all picked the one we really like while the others get lost in the dust. Yard Act were the ones who stole my heart. Their 2022 debut The Overload won me over not only because the band felt a little livelier and positively impish compared to the their peers, but quite frankly because the album was clearly inspired by the secret greats Chumbawamba, which is an influence I never expected to hear in my life and I was so rejoiced when I did. I loved the debut - it ranked quite high in my 2022 list - and then of course you ended up asking the inevitable question: given how strongly defined your sound was on your first album, where do you go with the second?
That's a question Yard Act asked themselves too and so Where's My Utopia? was born: a record that's just as sharply clued on its commentary about modern life as it is about being a second album that could just as easily lift the band even higher as it could also trip them down to a fall towards irrelevance. The sort of album which includes sardonic lines about why they signed to a major label in the middle of a song about just wanting to play some bangers, and which ends its (seemingly now-token) poignant long-form spoken word epic and its suddenly vulnerable and personal final segment with a punchline about it featuring on album #2 - and that's without pointing out how that same song namechecks most of the other songs in its lyrics just to bring everything before it back together. It's a massively self-aware album and it most obviously manifests in these meta moments that I, personally, adore (James Smith's perfect line delivery is what makes it, to be honest), but in a subtler way you can tell the band knew that the label, their audience and they themselves had high expectations to meet. And so they took up arms and went to war with the intent to win it.
Where's My Utopia? is a hyper-amplified version of the debut. The core is the same: Smith's charisma that's like Jarvis Cocker turned to the dark side, Ryan Needham's serpentine bass that's pretty much the lead instrument at all times, the snappy hook-laden songs that are littered with unpredictable whiplash moments that then become yet another hook in the arsenal. What's changed is how it's all just so much more of it. The post-punk grooves are meaner and tighter, seasoned through the full band becoming a dynamic unit with experience; the melodies are snappier, cheekier and more confident (check out "Dream Job" which splashes around some of the year's biggest earworms like they were mere pennies). The arrangements and production are imaginative and playful, with backing vocalists, samples and layered percussion transforming the songs into giants upon your very eyes. The surprises are more surprising, see e.g. the punk freak-out of "Grifter's Grief" that literally tears the song apart, the spoken word outro of "Down by the Stream" that grabs the listener by the throat, and the sudden rave kick that waits in the depths of "A Vineyard in the North" (the best album closer of the year). Even the Chumbawamba inspirations feel more tuned up thanks to the liberal use of samples which segue together the songs (most of which have been custom-made specifically for this album, so they're not really samples at all and that's somehow even more fun). It's everything you could love about the first album but exaggerated and supersized - and also sharpened. There was a clear vision and goal the band had in mind with the album, and they went all-in on it.
Where's My Utopia? arrived all the way back on 1st March and it's constantly been on rotation ever since, whether as a whole or getting addicted to one song in particular; "Dream Job" and "We Have Hits" with their barely three minute lengths have frequently become something I've put on when I've only had a short amount of time to lazy about but I've wanted to listen to something. Other incredible albums have arrived but Where's My Utopia? has not only stood up next to them but it's also remained fresh, still somehow always sounding so surprisingly thrilling. It's exciting and fun, but also compellingly resonant and emotional whenever the sly humour and barbed tongues suddenly disappear and the band out of nowhere pull no punches to hit the heart and soul in another grand twist. The sound and style of the music, the way the vocals are performed, the emotional range of them both coming together - it keeps morphing throughout the record but it all sticks together because of that constant layer of meta self-awareness, which is no longer just a silly wink at the listener that could wear out easily, but secretly forms the binding web which forms these songs into an album. By the year's halfway point it was already clear this was destined to be 2024's number one album for me, and the months afterwards have done nothing but reinforce that notion. What an sublimely stunning second round - we're at the start of a fantastic discography, aren't we?
Check also: Dream Job | A Vineyard for the North