Year-end lists have become kind of a big deal for music fans. It almost feels like an obligation at this point to post some kind of top ten at the end of the year. I’ve been secretly compiling my own lists for a while now, mostly as a way of keeping track of what impacted me in a given year, but here is my first attempt at sending one out to the world. And yes, I know this is relatively late, and most people have probably moved on from list season, but I needed time to process what stood out to me, not just from the artists I normally follow, but also the albums I found through other people.
Maybe I’m weird, but I look forward to poring over the barrage of lists that get posted every December. And it doesn’t even have to be from a trusted source. I’ve found myself going through lists written by people I know nothing about. Sometimes it’s just comforting to read that other people think things I like are actually cool. But the main driver for this is to make sure I haven’t missed an album that could have changed my life. Maybe growing up isolated from any sort of music scene has exacerbated my fear of missing out. More on that some other time.
This year my list scouring has paid off particularly well. The Quietus, for example, listed at #1 a record by a relatively obscure band I’d never heard before — that album is Norther by Ex-Easter Island Head, and it’s an absolute gem of ambient guitar music that everyone should hear. Another source that I trust implicitly for all things weird and heavy, Machine Music, clued me in on some late additions that could easily hold their own against records that I’ve had in rotation all year. Argwaan from the Netherlands for instance, play vicious but catchy black metal that immediately grabbed me. There were many more that I would probably have missed were it not for these lists, so while this whole exercise can get a bit exhausting, the payoff has been undeniable.
So here is my list. I couldn’t decide on a clear number one, so I have a selection of thirteen albums listed alphabetically that were the most impactful albums I heard this year. This is followed by a few more that I felt I needed to mention. To listen, click on the album title.
Aidan Baker — Everything is like Always Until it is Not
Guitarist Aidan Baker is exploring increasingly peculiar territory with this instrumental releases, and this one found its way into my sleep time rotation again and again. On other albums his use of scattered percussion often pokes at my anxiety, but here the effect is soothing. This is a gently layered, gorgeously spacious album that exudes a profound sense of calm.
Blood Incantation — Absolute Elsewhere
The great achievement of these two tracks may be that they form a death metal album with the best chance of winning over those who normally can’t stomach the genre. They’ve achieved this by expertly fusing sheer sonic heft with genuinely progressive, expansive passages inpired by Pink Floyd, Tangerine Dream, Eloy, and others. Sure, most will still turn up their noses at the first grunted vocal, but anyone who can keep an open mind and loves progressive music should find something to love here. The best part is that Blood Incantation aren’t actually pulling any punches. There are some absolutely psychotic moments, and the fact that they usually arrive couched in much more docile passages makes them all the tastier.
Cave Sermon — Divine Laughter
Most new death metal bands seem to be primarily concerned with nailing a particular style (both sonically and visually) in order to connect with an existing fan base, and I am very bored of it. I don’t think Cave Sermon care about that at all, they seem intent on finding their own lane, which is filled with monstrous riffing, ambient noise, and extended, knotted compositions that slink around with with a sense of curiosity and wonder. Sign me up for more of this.
Chat Pile — Cool World
There is something uncannily brilliant about Chat Pile. They loosely fit a noise rock template, but gleefully reference nu metal, death metal, and shoegaze, and inject everything with their special dose of insanity. It’s aggressive, gross, drowsy, yet somehow still infectious. I love idiosyncratic music, so they don’t have to work too hard for my attention, but the fact that they hail from my one-time home in Oklahoma City makes them all the more endearing.
Convulsing — Perdurance
This unsigned one-man death metal project from Australia has achieved something remarkable — a savagely heavy album with mind-twisting riffs and some of the best vocals since before Opeth went prog, but without a whiff of the usual escapism or pretension prevalent in metal. In spite of being a highly technical, sometimes dissonant album, it palpably flows from the heart. Dare I call it soulful? Yes, that’s exactly what it is.
The Cure — Songs of a Lost World
I’ve loved The Cure for many years, but to be honest, I wasn’t all that interested in a new record from them in 2024. I dutifully listened, and was genuinely shocked at how good every song on this record is. Not just that, I get this strange feeling that Robert Smith has created something that the world needs to hear right now. It’s mournful, for sure, but precisely in a way that feels healing. For me, after all kinds of struggles, disappointments, and a never-ending cascade of awful news, listening to this record spoke peace to that pain unlike anything else this year.
Ex-Easter Island Head — Norther
This is maybe the most beguiling and utterly exquisite album I’ve heard all year. It’s only been with me a few weeks, but every time I hit play it pulls me away into a new, otherworldly place. This is magical.
Frail Body — Artificial Bouquet
This was a totally unexpected discovery. Besides Converge, I remain mostly disinterested by the Deathwish Inc. roster, though for some reason I kept coming back to this one. Frail Body remind me primarily of Hopesfall, then also Deafheaven, but what they’ve done here feels purer and more from the gut than anything I’ve heard even from those excellent bands. It’s absolutely feral, but also emotionally soothing in some weird way.
Mdou Moctar — Funeral for Justice
If rock n’ roll needs saving, this is just the band to do it. Flowing over with endless verve and a singular sense of drive, this already feels like a classic. Hailing from Niger and singing mostly in their native Berber dialect, the power of their music obliterates any thought of a language barrier. Do not miss this.
The Smashing Pumpkins — Aghori Mhori Mei
If you know me, you probably know that this is and likely always will be my favorite band, their previous four records not withstanding. The last SP album that I really loved, Oceania, came out in 2012, a few days after my youngest daughter was born, and the mix of that emotional supernova and that gorgeously crafted record is probably impossible to beat. Aghori Mori Mei lags just a few ticks behind Oceania, but boy does it have some fantastic songs, especially the opening trio. Their unmistakable chemistry between guitars and drums is finally back in focus, and the result is refreshingly powerful.
Starflyer 59 — Lust for Gold
I’ve been listening to Starflyer 59 since the 10th grade, which means they’ve been in and out of my headspace for the past 30 years. Their 1995 shoegaze classic Gold didn’t have any lyrics printed in the booklet, just a mocked up vintage LP label for each song, one featuring the slogan “Music to make you see stars”. Something about that idea helped retrain my ear for music that emphasizes atmosphere over hooks. But Starflyer changed a lot over the years, becoming a tighter and more song-oriented band that intentionally left the dreaminess of their beginnings behind. Lust for Gold reconnects with these beginnings to a point, but through the lens of middle age. I guess that makes it dad rock (almost all rock music is these days), but that’s totally fine. This is a beautiful record with a bit of extra noise, actively engaged with the reality of change.
Sumac — The Healer
Sumac, though an uncompromisingly heavy sludge metal band, operate increasingly like a free jazz trio, and with The Healer they adeptly balance their free-range meanderings with gigantically heavy grooves. They’ve carved out a lane that is unmistakably their own, creating records that are challenging, but generously rewarding, and somehow heart-warming. Their LP editions are beautifully thought out and executed — a perfect example of vinyl done right, where the format and packaging brilliantly complement and expand on the music.
Thief — Bleed, Memory
Heavy electronica project Thief completely dominated 2020 for me with Map of Lost Keys, which is still a strong contender for my favorite album of the past ten years. They may have surpassed it with Bleed, Memory, which is just as gorgeously layered, but more varied and approachable, along with, at moments, going harder than they have up to this point. Their brilliant sampling of obscure choral music is as affecting as ever. Dylan Neal, who is the driving force behind Thief, sounds like he could have been hugely popular a few decades ago. He has the vocal charisma of a Billy Corgan, matched with the sound-sculpting ability of Trent Reznor. Who knows, the world might still come to it’s senses (ha) and discover him.
These are albums that I also enjoyed, but maybe lacked a little something to become a favorite; or more likely, I just didn’t learn to fully appreciate yet. They are all amazing, and could have easily jumped to the top section given the right circumstances. They are listed in no particular order.
Iress — Sleep Now, In Reverse
Vocals are usually a pretty low priority when I listen to music. I generally don’t find singers that interesting. Unless they actually are interesting, and in the case of Iress, Michelle Malley’s deep croon stood out immediately. It’s an unexpectedly expressive and almost jazzy voice that doesn’t often come up paired with this blend of slowcore, shoegaze, and doom. But it works beautifully, and the instrumentation is thoughtfully layered, full of shifts and subtle hooks to make this an undeniably strong record.
Beth Gibbons — Lives Outgrown
Stately, rich, and deliberate, the timeless voice of Portishead is back. Borrowing Dummy from the library and playing it in my car as a college student introduced me to trip hop, and it’s a sonic palette I find hard to resist. Gibbons doesn’t really acknowledge it here, opting for an earthy folk sound based mostly around acoustic instrumentation and fading out at the end with birdsong. But it suits her splendidly, and while I miss the more urban context of her previous work, I thoroughly enjoyed Lives Outgrown.
Arooj Aftab — Night Reign
While the mood of this album is decidedly nocturnal, it’s not as monochromatic as that might suggest. Arooj Aftab’s haunting vocals are surrounded by a wide range of instruments, sounds, languages and collaborators, offering a slowly but constantly shifting journey through the night. I didn’t find this until later in the year, so I’m still processing the topography of this record, but I know I’ll be coming back.
Bríi — Camaradagem Póstuma
From the creator of one of my favorite albums in recent memory, Kaatayra’s Inparipiquê, comes another set under his more experimental Bríi moniker. Absolutely worth checking out for the drums alone, this one also stands out for its complete lack of any sort of heavy guitar riffing, instead mixing electronic elements with blasting percussion and screamed vocals. It results in a beautifully weird combination that sounds unlike anything else I heard last year.
Thou — Umbilical
I want to love this album more than I actually do, for whatever reason the last few listens were a bit grating. They would probably take pride in that. I have so much Thou on my record shelf that they really have their work cut out for them to hold my attention, but this is certainly a step in the right direction, a leaner and more focused distillation of their sound and influences. There is also a nod to the heavy side of Smashing Pumpkins, and nothing is much better than that in my book.
Kim Gordon — The Collective
This album is so cool, I almost feel Iike I don’t have any business listening to it. Mixing hip hop beats with industrial and noise elements, Gordon hasn’t lost any of the snarky edge that she brought to Sonic Youth. And while I doubt anyone expected this album to sound like this, it immediately makes sense. Of course this works, and she is undoubtedly the reason why.
Vemod — The Deepening
Norway’s Vemod take us on a hike through the northern mountains with their highly picturesque take on black metal. Sure, it’s heavy music, but not in any way angry or hateful, instead building expanding arcs with rolling drums and almost gentle washes of lush guitar texture that seem to invite wonder and introspection, gratitude even.
Spectral Voice — Sparagmos
The first thing that stood out to me on Sparagmos was the deliberate inclusion of tape flutter in the recording, clearly relying on some old-school techniques to steer away from the glare of contemporary production. This makes sense for their take on doom-infused death metal, which needs to sound gritty and distressed for maximum effect. I hear some Bell Witch influence in the slower passages as well, but I’m not sure that fully pays off. This is a very good record that I will keep returning to, but I have a feeling they have an even better one waiting to be exhumed.
Night Verses — Every Sound has a Color in the Valley of Night
I don’t understand music on a theoretical level at all, but I’ve heard enough to know that Night Verses are wizards. They operate a bit like Animals as Leaders, churning out mostly instrumental metal with a hyper precise, yet melodic technical flair. I saw the aforementioned Animals live once, and unlike their albums which sound comparatively tame, their live performance felt like galaxies smashing together. It was absolutely jaw-dropping. Night Verses succeed in translating a similar intensity on this record. I can do without the guest vocalists, their music is that good.
Haunted Plasma — I
This is not a heavy record in the commonly understood sense, but made by people from that neck of the woods. Haunted Plasma succeed in creating an engrossing tunnel of synth-heavy drone, and I’m very excited to see where they go from here.
Ulver — Liminal Animals
Ulver are weird because they have made a fair bit of music that I could do without, but at the same time they are so uniquely brilliant that they’ve become one of my most listened to bands in the past decade. Liminal Animals continues the synth rock approach that they so convincingly mastered with the Assassination of Julius Ceasar, but to a lesser degree of success. I like the more ambient touches that they’ve included here, but tracks like Hollywood Babylon feel pretty ham-fisted, and keep the album from fully coming together for me. I’ll definitely revisit it, but I’m hoping for another change in direction next time around. After all their drastic left turns stylistically, it’s weird to feel this way about an Ulver record, but here we are.
Mannequin Pussy — I Got Heaven
Alternating between shrieking punk bursts and iridescent dream pop with no shortage of, well anything, this band is on to something special. I think their mix of styles works so well because they’ve not only convincingly mastered both ends of their sonic spectrum, but also how to transition effortlessly between them.
The Smile — Cutouts / Wall of Eyes
Thom Yorke and Johnny Greenwood, along with drummer Tom Skinner, continue their excellent run with this new project. While I’ve been a Radiohead fan for a very long time, there always seemed to be a ceiling on how much I could get into them, that sense of alienation they channel so well tends to leave me a bit cold. In Rainbows put a serious crack in that ceiling, the extra bit of warmth they let in made a world of difference. The Smile often get close, but I think part of what makes these albums appealing is the clear sense that they are simply making music that they want to hear, and are not at all concerned with how it relates to the band that put them on the map.
Immortal Bird — Sin Querencia
I spend a good chunk of my weekly routine trudging through grocery store aisles, trying not to forget something. Sin Querencia was a frequent musical companion to these outings, I guess I enjoy pairing such a pedestrian activity with a very rude soundtrack. Grindcore would sum up Immortal Bird’s approach, due to the consistently ripping intensity of their compositions, but they often color outside the lines of that genre by slowing the pace, locking into a catchy groove, or simply playing with a kind of exuberance that allows them to tap into unexpected frequencies.
Cloud Nothings — Final Summer
If any band has filled the shoes left behind by Nirvana, it’s Cloud Nothings. Their trio of records Attack on Memory, Here and Nowhere Else, and Life Without Sound are some of my favorites of the 2010’s. They rocked with a punkish fury, but with a keen songwriting sensibility that always seemed to pack one or two more ideas into a song than most bands could pull off. Then things got a bit less interesting, each effort following that run seemed to be missing that fire. Final Summer brought some of that excitement back, and I know I needed it.
Rope Sect — Estrangement
German death rock purveyors Rope Sect showed up again with a further refinement of their acutely depressed, but beautifully crafted songs. Amazing stuff as always, but I have the feeling that they’re still searching for the greatness they are clearly capable of. Maybe it’s because some of their one-off singles outshine their album material, as amazing as it is. Either way, this is a band to keep a close eye on.
Future Faces — Memoria
I consider their debut album, Euphoria, to be the best post punk album in recent memory, easily outdoing the more well-known acts playing within this style. Memoria continues to showcase their amazing songcraft and ethereal vocal production, but even after a multiple listens it feels both a bit more subdued and less cohesive. No matter, you still can’t go wrong giving this band your time.
Magdalena Bay — Imaginal Disk
This album spends too much time in an exuberant pop mode for me to really hang with it, but I’m thoroughly impressed with the writing and production. If they could just extend the weirder, noisier parts just a bit more then I’m all in.
Buñuel — Mansuetude
I had the pleasure of seeing Eugene S. Robinson’s former band Oxbow this year here in Munich, and what a bizarre, volatile, but powerfully gifted individual. That band sadly dissolved just a few days after that, but Robinson has been active with Buñuel for years now, and I finally discovered them. I love bands who sound massive, aggressive, and intense (heavy if you will), but don’t neatly find into the mold of a metal band. Bunuel are exactly that, they’re too busy expertly blowing everything up to fuss with fitting into a subgenre. I’m still new to this craziness, but I’m fully on board.
Cower — Celestial Devastation
I need more time with this album, but the way they swing between quiet and loud, downtrodden and confrontational, immediately sets them apart. I’m intrigued.
Scarcity — The Promise of Rain
Their debut Aveilut blew me away when it came out. Using all kinds of microtonal guitar techniques that I don’t understand, Scarcity push hard at musical boundaries, but pair this experimental edge with the mad wailings of Pyrrhon’s Doug Moore to devastating effect. I’m partly repulsed; this is hard to listen to. The part of my brain that just wants a groove has to give up for me to stick with it, but the exploratory, ambitious heart of it all keeps me engaged.
Wow, you made it to the end. Honestly, this exercise is mostly for me — it’s an opportunity for me to get my thoughts down, but also to keep me from forgetting what I’ve discovered. What do you think? Nothing would make me happier than to start conversations around these albums, and hopefully get some recommendations to add a few more discoveries to the list. Let’s discuss!