My Favorite Albums Of 2024

What’s a year in music again? Or even a year? Sorry, I just don’t think I can write any kind of cultural sum-up of 2024. A list of enjoyed albums I can do. It’s easy to sort albums by year released. But a side-effect of staying zen and present rather than freaking out about the future is that the recent past is blurry, too. Parenthood certainly doesn't help, either. And not going anywhere with fresher music than Taco Bell. I do have a couple observations, though, mostly based on old people social media.

Quite a few women had big pop albums people liked to identify with and dance to. Heroines enjoyed by TikTok teens and TikTok moms alike. Actually, I’m not sure teens listen to Charli XCX. But Kamala Harris did! If there’s men in pop people like to identify with and dance to, I haven’t heard about it. Troye Sivan’s last album of erotic self-discovery was in 2023, right? And do guys identify with him? Or do they just get told they’re like Troye Sivan by female friends? Dad fully acknowledges his ignorance here. Though I liked his “Youth” a decade ago, and Charli’s “Boom Clap” a decade ago. Wow, you’d think they’d be adult contemporary artists instead of teenpop by now. Maybe they are. Who am I to say?

I have heard about men with facial tattoos and names like Shaboozey and Jelly Roll, but I haven’t knowingly heard them, so I can’t even say how rap or autotuned their country is. They’re country, though, right? All guys with facial tattoos and hits are country in 2024, I think.

As for “real” rap, a Pulitizer Prize winner impressed everyone by shitting all over a Canadian pop star who was long overdue for a commercial kick in the pants. From the POV of many a progressive, the right guy was pedo-baiting and the right guy was being pedo-baited, atop a beat that reminded me of “The Motto” (was that hyphy or hyphy nostalgia? You kids know E-40, right? Now E-40 was great! I should see what he’s up to). It was a big moment for California, the culture, the internet. Oh, this song was so big, it made LL Cool J's “Jack The Ripper” look like it was released when we didn’t have to pretend pissing contests were the pinnacle of popular artistry. I haven’t listened to the Pulitzer Prize winner’s album named after a very poignant car purchase yet. I also need to listen his labelmate that critics my age and older like, once I get over the artist’s name looking like “Toe Cheese.” (Yes, I know the origin story. We can both be right.)

Critics around my age and older were very excited about albums by The Cure (absence makes the heart grow fonder, though not for me and Roger O’Donnell's keyboard settings), Kim Deal (ok music, great news hook) and Kim Gordon (did you know that she’s older than Yoko Ono circa IMA?). Critics weren’t quite so rapturous about Stephen Malkmus & Matt Sweeney’s The Hard Quartet (which oddly made me excited for new Chavez more than new Pavement), but people sure loved the video where the Hard Quartet’s fiftysomething leaders pretended they were the thirtysomething leaders of the Rolling Stones in 1981. 

I had deeper, richer thoughts in my Favorite Albums of 2023 posts, and they still apply. If I didn’t roll my eyes above about an artist or praise them below, you can generally assume I didn’t get around to hearing their latest. I have ideas on how to do better in 2025, but it’s going to be very easy for life to get in the way of that. Which is fine. Being zen and present. That’s the primary goal. Though feel free to recommend something! Partial disclosure - more than one of the artists below asked me to check out their wares. I swear, that’s not a guarantee for coverage. But I suspect that if you genuinely enjoy reading my wit, it’s not impossible I’d enjoy hearing yours.

1. Dylan Hicks & Small Screens, Modern Flora

I already went on about this album in a Blurbing For The Weekend post, so I’ll just reaffirm the big keywords in hopes I can see more discussion of Modern Flora the world. Steely Dan! Stephen Malkmus! Paul Simon! They Might Be Giants! Jazz! JAZZ! Come on, you cultured smartypants, tell me if I’m on the mark or on the pipe when it comes to how smart, unique and refreshing this album is.

2. Adrianne Lenker, Bright Future

That this frayed emotional travelogue didn’t take the top spot is partly due to that zen I babbled about. Songs will remain my “time to curl up in a ball under several blankets” Lenker album, as a touch of the wry hootenanny that was Big Thief’s 2022 double-CD remains here. But Future is definitely a turn back to the vulnerable and delicate. Thing is, what makes Lenker stand out from the indie Americana pack is how she doesn’t seem self-impressed by either her wit or her feelings, making sure one never overwhelms the other. “You give me chills/ I’ve had it with the chills.”

3. Swamp Dogg, Blackgrass: From West Virginia To 125 St.

Back when I was a young man scouring for weird and wacky relics of the past, Swamp Dogg’s music was a disappointment. Sure, he’d ride a rat on an album cover, and swear more than most R&B singers in his day, but the music was relatively workaday R&B. Today, I enjoy my singer-songwriters more idiosyncratic than insane, and I’m long overdue to revisit that album where he’s riding the rat. I couldn’t get into the trio of auto-tune albums he put out before this move to Oh Boy, but Blackgrass is a fitting debut for The Label John Prine Built. The occasional guest-star and art piece never gets in the way of humorous, joyful craft.

4. BEAK>, >>>>

Geoff Barrow is apparently leaving BEAK> after one more tour, and I’m intrigued to learn just how much of the trio’s mojo could be credited to him. Sure, he was just the drummer in a group that built songs out of improv jams, but he’s also Geoff Barrow. Geoff Barrow of Portishead and Alex Garland soundtracks. Is he really not crucial to a group with a remarkable gift for krautrock pastiche? If all it took was an analog synth, a rhythm section, and a willingness to mewl over the grooves, everybody would be doing it. Or at least every dork that can’t get enough of BEAK>. You should see me wild out with my kid’s otherwise ignored Blipbox. So good luck, Billy Fuller and Will Young. Maybe Wikipedia will let you be in the main image after >>>>> comes out.

5. Mary Timony, Untame The Tiger

Here's another artist where I want to revisit their previous decades after enjoying a late salvo more than I expected. Her once-stealth prog-folk-metal tendencies were why I couldn’t go all the way with Helium back in the day, and I was totally one of the losers that bailed when she turned less horny and more magick in her ‘00s solo work. But now that I’m old enough to really dig Richard Thompson, I need to find out if “No Thirds” is the first time she achieved a perfect replication of his playing. I also need to find out if Untame The Tiger is an atypically straightforward mix of erotic frustration and tricky guitarplay, or if her Ex Hex material is as songful. At times, if not for the off-kilter progressions and poetry, this could be peak Lucinda Williams.

6. English Teacher, This Could Be Texas

It wouldn’t be hard to tie England’s Mercury Prize winners English Teacher to Helium, with their assertive singer/guitarist indifferent to gender norms and romantic propriety, but obviously practicing their scales. I wouldn’t assume the band’s ever heard ‘90s stateside indie-guitar heroics, though. After all, they’ve got Muse over there, Radiohead, black midi, Marillion, Iron Maiden with actual Top 10 singles, "indie" bands with excellent rhythm sections, blah blah. They’re also from Leeds, and…if you know “post-punk”…that means something. I didn’t know English Teacher had won the Mercury Prize when I first put on the album, or that several of these songs were already found on critically hailed singles years earlier. But I’m not surprised people immediately picked up on the confident, outspoken social politics and the shows of prowess in the arrangements. Fingers crossed for the difficult sophomore album!

7. The Paranoid Style, The Interrogator

It won’t be hard to tie The Paranoid Style to English Teacher, because I have a feeling Elizabeth Nelson and Timothy Bracy have plenty of albums by bands from Leeds on the shelf. As I said in that (hopefully once) rare Blurbing For The Weekend post about music, this album gets damn close to the wordy, defiant rush of Mekons’ Rock & Roll. Occasionally I want to grumble it’s merely wordy and poised, like someone who gives every Elvis Costello album at least a 7. But when the band drops back on “The Findings,” Nelson’s lyrics are too damn funny to begrudge the vocal stricture. And Costello was never this funny.

8. Manu Chao, Viva Tu

Warning: if you found this guy’s international Jimmy Buffett shtick excruciating 25 years ago, you don’t need to revisit it. But if you don’t blame him for Robbie Williams covering “Bongo Bong,” and wonder what the fuck he’s been up to since 2007’s La Radiolina, I’m happy to report he’s just been jamming on the beach, hiking with friends, and not changing his sound in the slightest. Seriously. This could have been recorded in 1999 or 2009 or 2019. He’s still strumming over that spritely ska beat, throwing in verbal hooks and sound effects from all over the world, encouraging faith and strength in the face of...you name it. I own a 2 buck copy of Songs You Know By Heart, so I have no shame in digging this.

9. Usher, Coming Home

While I was furious at the world for rejecting Usher's 2008 opus Here I Stand, a sterling example of a thirty year old protesting too much that he’s a grown-ass man, I was so embarrassed by the commercial capitulation of “OMG” that I kept my distance even as the singles got more artful and easy-going. Finally digging into a full length, after his success in Vegas and at the Super Bowl, I’m delighted to confirm he’s fully realized that grown-ass persona. Not that’s he’s particularly mature, just experienced, and confident he can win you over. The effortless stride that stunned people from the get-go remains as he dares to interpolate Billy Joel, sigh “girl, I miss you like Pac,” announce Netflix & Chill as “I Am The Party,” and coo “every single playlist that I listen to reminds me of you.” 21 Savage ruins the grace otherwise shown on “Good Good,” and twenty tracks can’t all be bops. But Usher hasn’t just outlasted the TRL competition, he’s made it look easy, and mutually rewarding.

10, Faye Webster, Underdressed At The Symphony

At the very least, I want artists that are right to be entertained by themselves. If you’re a Wilco fan or have a kewpie-doll voice, lean in, like kewpie-voiced Wilco fan Faye Webster does. Make the music unapologetically smooth. Show you’re capable of taste and restraint, and then have fun with it. When you bother to indulge in some autotune, make a weird hook out of it, so listeners will play with their nasal voice to imitate it. Worked for Cher! The Lil Yachty collaboration is a bit much, but I respect it. If I think your elfin supper-club country only occasionally bogs down in surreality, that’s a real compliment.

And now, albums #11-23, once again in the style of Robert Christgau’s honorable mentions.

Tuff Sunshine, Vanity Matrix

Sassier and snarkier than Eels or Sparklehorse, if no less sardonic or in love with sound (“Thank The Pilot/Suicide By Papercuts,” “No Juice”)

The Smile, Cutouts

I don’t want to hear the new Vampire Weekend, so I’m glad for this inspired imitation (“Instant Psalm,” “Zero Sum”)

Willie Nelson, The Border

Life hasn’t stopped him from clocking in, so he’s gonna clock in (“What If I’m Out Of My Mind,” “Many A Long & Lonesome Highway”)

Shellac, All The Trains

Bye! (“Tattoos,” “Scabby The Rat”) 

Kali Uchis, Orquideas

Helps that I speak the language…of love. I don’t speak Spanish, though, which might be why the retro exercises and the collaborations rarely do it for me (“Pensamientos Intrusivos,” “Te Mata”)

Erika DeCasier, Still

I still need to check how these sensuous Y2K R&B emulations on 4AD compare to Y2K His Name Is Alive albums (“Lucky,” “Anxious”) 

The Gossip, Real Power

Weird enough these Arkansas-to-PNW-to-Hollywood no-longer-kids have kept their indie-soul ache after years of European stardom - then I discovered this reunion is their second album produced by Rick Rubin (“Real Power,” “Tough”)

Alan Sparhawk, White Roses, My God

I gotta wonder how this would sound if the subtext was secret, like how it initially was with Neil Young’s Trans, but that wasn’t an option (“Can U Hear,” “Feel Something”)

Amy Rigby, Hang In There With Me

The attempts at psychedelic novelty sound stale, but her song-smarts are still fresh (“Dylan In Dubuque,” “Bricks”)

Touche Amore, Spiral In A Straight Line

Do you miss when rock was anthemic and agonizingly beautiful? You know, like Desaparecidos in 2002? (“Force Of Habit,” “This Routine”)

Jesus & Mary Chain, Glasgow Eyes

Nothing but respect for my enduring ‘80s/‘90s alterna-kings, who still know the value of smirking and minimalism (“jamcod,” “Silver Strings”)

Pissed Jeans, Half-Divorced

Still the best observational comedians in hardcore (“Everywhere Is Bad,” “Moving On”)

The Smile, Wall Of Eyes

Thom's just gonna mumble and wail over gorgeously obtuse art-rock until God stops him, isn’t he?  (“Wall Of Eyes,” “You Know Me!”)

I plan to acknowledge late discoveries in future Blurbing For The Weekend posts, so - please! - feel free to let me know if I missed a real winner by writing to anthonyisright at gmail dot com. Feel free to explain why I should hear Brat, too. I'm not saying I never will.