The 20 Best Albums of 2024
Was this year a doom or boom? Ugh, sorry sorry sorry...
They said it couldn’t be done. And by they, I mean me, every time I opened a new blank text post on Substack. One whole year of new music reviews. With a couple weeks to spare, I’ve now listened to over 170 records from 2024. Some would say that’s too many…
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…anyway, before we get into the list, I just wanna say thanks for stopping by and reading. Back in January, I was feeling uninspired and uncreative, having had some difficulty motivating myself to write anything. I have never written music criticism outside of the occasional social media post, but listening to music is my greatest passion outside of writing. The idea was to get myself writing about something—anything—and see if I could kickstart the creative juices. The result was that I changed the way I think about both listening to music and writing, and I think on both fronts I had one of my most productive years ever.
But we’re not here to talk about me. 2024 brought an incredible slate of releases. Half of the albums in this countdown come from artists I’d never heard of before this past year. I’m very grateful to have been part of the audience for these records and to have had them soundtrack a year of growth, change, and ultimately creative rebirth.
If you’re interested in listening to songs from these records and more, scroll down to the bottom for a BRAND NEW PLAYLIST, featuring the best songs of 2024.
EP OF THE YEAR
Nourished by Time
Catching Chickens
Baltimore DIY artist Marcus Brown records funky bedroom pop, R&B, and freestyle under the moniker Nourished by Time. His debut full-length Erotic Probiotic 2 wins the award for Best Album of 2023 That I Somehow Slept On Until 2024. Since that release, he’s signed to XL Records, produced and featured on a bunch of different artists’ tracks, and released the Catching Chickens EP. These four songs find Brown building on the sound he’s already such a pro at creating, bringing the wet drums and wobbly synths of the 80s and 90s into the modern day with his inimitable combination of glittery R&B and post-punk edge. Get into Nourished by Time now so you can tell all your friends about him before he inevitably blows up.
#20
fantasy of a broken heart
Feats of Engineering
The winner of Band Name That Sounds Most Like a JRPG (I’ll stop doing this gimmick now, I promise), fantasy of a broken heart begs at least one question before you hit play on their music. For most of us, a broken heart is not something to fantasize about, so what’s up with that name? But if it sounds like this, so lively, and energetic, and in the moment, maybe it is better to have loved and lost than never to have listened to arty indie pop at all. Songs like “AFV” and “Ur Heart Stops” blast out of the speakers with a sugary, psychedelic stomp that recalls early Of Montreal or the most showtunesy Foxygen stuff. Bailey Wollowitz and Al Nardo share the mic in a goofy, ping-pongy style that brings me back to a time when every cool indie rock duo made you wonder if they were siblings or romantic partners. In truth, the first half of Feats of Engineering is much stronger than the second, where the ideas get a little too big and the architecture of it all threatens to collapse. But fantasy of a broken heart is more interested in swinging for the fences than merely getting on base, and even their strikeouts are more entertaining than most bands’ best stuff.
#19
Tapir!
The Pilgrim, Their God and The King Of My Decrepit Mountain
Back in January, I was eager to jump into the year’s new music and I stumbled upon London folk-rock group Tapir! When I went to look up reviews of their full-length debut—a concept album in three acts about an astral pilgrim traveling the land in search of a forgotten truth—and found surprisingly little had been written on it, the idea to start this substack was born. So, you can thank/blame Tapir!, depending on how you feel about overwrought metaphors and allusions to 00s blog rock bands you didn’t need to remember. In all seriousness, The Pilgrim… is an ambitious, sprawling story album of the kind I thought bands were too cool to make anymore. If you were a fan of The Decemberists in 2003, or Black Country, New Road in 2023, I think you’ll enjoy the quirky instrumentation, dark fairytale lyrics, and avant-folk stylings of the London band’s epic debut full-length.
#18
Zero Point Energy
Tilted Planet
Brooklyn-based duo Genesis Edenfield and Ben Jackson built Zero Point Energy from the ashes of their defunct Atlanta, GA band Warehouse. On their debut Tilted Planet, Edenfield and Jackson employ a familiar post-punk indie rock sound to explore the process of getting just old enough to start figuring out who you really are. There’s something charming about hearing such mature and introspective lyrics over the kind of instrumentation you usually associate with younger, more carefree musicians. It’s like listening to someone’s growth in real-time, not putting away childish things but using those toys to create a work of art more intricate and complex than you would have expected. On lead single “Closer to You,” Edenfield opens up about coming out as trans and navigating personal and romantic relationships under a different identity. Jackson provides a ripping guitar solo that allows the song to become not just a diary entry but a triumphant anthem for anyone who has ever needed to be true to themselves even when doing so felt scary or selfish.
#17
Peel Dream Magazine
Rose Main Reading Room
It is not lost on me that it took Joseph Stevens (PDM’s main man) moving from New York to Los Angeles to be able to write such an intimate and authentic concept album about the Big Apple. The songs on Rose Main Reading Room—the title itself referring to one of the NY Public Library’s most gorgeous spots—feel like walking with a friend through the streets and local haunts of the city. Stevens doesn’t play tour guide so much as he allows you to tag along for the day, running errands and stopping for artistic inspiration throughout the Upper West Side. The highly specific geographical focus and cornucopia of band-class instruments may bring to mind another singer-songwriter Stevens, but the album also draws inspiration from indie icons like Belle & Sebastian, Yo La Tengo, and the Flaming Lips in a way that makes it feel more like an homage than an out-and-out ripoff. Anyway, if Sufjan isn’t going to follow through with his 50 states promise, then I say there are 48 states up for grabs. Peel Dream Magazine has just claimed the first one off the waiver wire.
#16
Father John Misty
Mahashmashana
After experimenting with big-band jazz and pop standards on 2022’s Chloë and the Next 20th Century, Josh Tillman has returned to the barroom folk-rock that made him a household (bungalow-hold?) name in the 2010s. At the same time, it’s clear he’s retained some of the showmanship and panache he adopted for Chloë. Never one to shy away from the spotlight in the first place, Tillman feels truly confident and comfortable here, and the songs boast the runtimes to prove it. No track on the record clocks in at less than four minutes, and a couple stretch beyond the eight-minute mark. But like Van Morrison before him, a little bloat has always suited Father John Misty. He’s at his best when he’s at his most self-absorbed, whether that manifests as a cocky strut like on the funky rock stomper “She Cleans Up,” or self-flagellating as on the soaring, swooning ballad “Screamland.” An artist like Father John Misty needs occasional experimentation to avoid becoming a parody of himself, but I’m always happy when his sound comes home to familiar turf.
#15
Claire Cottrill’s music has always felt a bit stuck between two worlds. She’s too soft-spoken and introspective to command the attention of her girly pop peers, but too mainstream and poppy to be lumped into the indie sad girl pack. After shifting from bedroom pop to fuzzy, folky Carol King balladry on 2021’s Sling, Clairo has teamed up with producer Leon Michels (the Dap Kings, El Michels Affair) on the eleven 70s soul-inspired gems that make up Charm. It’s a surprisingly natural transition from the quilted singer-songwriter work Clairo is known for, and it allows her to embrace a confidence and swagger without sacrificing the introspective lyrics and soft vocal performances she’s already so good at. Lead single “Sexy to Someone” feels like the moment in a 90s teen romcom where the shy nerdy girl takes off her glasses to reveal she’s been a knockout all along. On the TikTok hit “Juna,” Clairo sings about the exhilaration of being wanted, over twinkling, disco-ball keys and warm horns. It’s an exciting direction for one of indie pop’s most un-box-in-able stars, and more than anything, it’s refreshing to have one less Jack Antonoff-produced female pop album in the world.
#14
If you were to make a list of rock subgenres that age gracefully, emo and blog rock would definitely be toward the bottom (though I’d wager above, like, nu metal). The fact that Los Campesinos! can make an album out of the genres that not only feels mature and grounded but works as a truly profound meditation on aging and the passage of time is a feat in and of itself. Add in the fact that the band produced and distributed it themselves, with a marketing budget of $200, and the work becomes downright impressive. The group that once billed themselves as “the UK’s first/only emo band” has seen indie music change pretty dramatically over the last 20-ish years, and on All Hell they give us the pit’s-eye view from someone who never left the club. The thing about being an indie rock institution is that all the other bands get younger and you stay the same age. On “Holy Smoke (2005)” lead singer/songwriter Gareth Paisley bemoans of the new kids at the shows, “they don’t buy the beers I drink and they don’t drink the beers I buy.” But the album makes it clear, it’s not the children who are wrong. Playing this kind of music means you’re “with it” for a brief shining moment, and then for the rest of your career you’ll always be just a bit out of step. It’s a fact of life that Los Campesinos! have accepted with surprising grace for a band that made their bones on sugary, jittery blog rock bangers, and it makes for a truly compelling listen.
#13
Little Kid
A Million Easy Payments
The best songs on Canadian indie folk band Little Kid’s new record have lyrics that scan like great short stories. On the softly strummed “Eggshell,” lead singer Kenny Boothby paints a picture of little moments in life—road trips, city hall weddings, car accidents—the memories of which are as fragile as the song’s namesake. Album highlight “Bad Energy” builds from a slightly anxious piano tune to a jittery livewire of a song that lives up to its title. Throughout the song, Boothby finds little slice-of-life moments where danger and doom seem imminent, but he always turns the page to another story right before the hammer falls. Along with the antsy drums and guitar, it evokes the feeling of being brought to the edge of a panic, and it makes for a surprisingly compelling listen. On the album’s last track, “What Qualifies As Silence,” Boothby investigates the moments in life that look subtle and serene from the outside but are brimming with internal power. Throughout the album, the music sets the tone for these fantastic little stories, giving them their strength and making you want to hit repeat, even when they’re quietly devastating.
#12
Faye Webster
Underdressed at the Symphony
Depressed and unmoored in the wake of a breakup, Webster made a habit of showing up to the Atlanta Symphony each night just before the curtain rose and snagging a last-minute seat. She says she liked the experience of being surrounded by other people she didn’t have to talk to, craving human connection while also enjoying the experience of getting to stay in her own head, in the dark, listening to music. Underdressed at the Symphony feels particularly raw and vulnerable, even for an artist who is known for sharing her private and romantic life through her music. There are songs on this record about keeping the door open so the dog can go out, crying over an ex’s old mix tape, and engaging in some retail therapy on eBay. Moments that seem trivial, but are etched in the mind of anyone who has ever had to pick up the pieces of their heart and forge ahead after a breakup. They’re the small tasks of moving on with life and getting out of a rut that seems impossibly deep, and they can carry monumental meaning. Webster is joined by Wilco guitarist Nels Cline, whose signature wandering jam solos bring an unexpected energy to songs like the nearly 7-minute opener “Thinking About You.”
#11
Future Islands
People Who Aren’t There Anymore
A decade after Future Islands’ frontman Samuel T. Herring danced and growled his way into America’s hearts on national television, it would be easy for the band to have gone the way of many of their indie sleaze peers. And, to be honest, I haven’t spared them a ton of thought over the past ten years. Fortunately, lead singles “Peach” and “The Tower” caught my attention, and I spent the majority of this winter listening to the record over and over again. Loosely detailing the slow dissolution of Herring’s long-distance relationship, People Who Aren’t There Anymore is a breakup album for adults. There’s none of the fire and anger of young love gone bad, instead the songs convey a nostalgic sadness, and even a sense of gratitude for the people who come into our lives for a season, and take us from one place to the next before moving on. The subject matter works perfectly with the band’s shimmering 80s synth-pop sound, keys and drums glowing like the neon signs you see along your walk through the cold, rainy city when you just need to be alone with your thoughts for a little while.
#10
OK, I know I said I was gonna stop doing the weirdly specific superlative gimmick, but I lied, I got one more. The award for My Favorite Moment in a Song From 2024 goes to the part of “People Never Change” at 5:19 where after stripping the track down to just piano and Suryakant Sawhney’s smoky vocals the sounds of dholak, ektara, and percussion kick back in. It gives me chills every single time, I don’t know why, just instant serotonin. The New Dehli band blends hot jazz and indie rock with traditional Indian folk music in a truly singular way. While Peter Cat Recording Co.’s influences are writ large for all the world to see, there’s no one else who really sounds like them. BETA pays homage to the band’s influences, and expands on them with touches of soul, disco, and psychedelic rock. On “Connexion,” the band loses all their jazz bar cool, ripping into a guitar and drum stomper that finds Sawhney’s signature croon drenched in reverb, voice soaring as if carried by the kaleidoscopic licks beneath him. Clocking in just under an hour, the album is a real journey through time and space, and the band has a playful sense of exploration that makes each subsequent listen feel like a slightly different trip.
#9
Jake Xerxes Fussell
When I’m Called
Folk singer and Americana recordist Jake Xerxes Fussell finds poetry everywhere he looks. Sometimes it’s in medieval children’s music. Sometimes it’s in the punitive writing of a student who got busted for breakdancing on his way to class. And sometimes it’s in actual poetry, as on album opener “Andy,” an interpolation of poet and musician Maestro Day’s diss track aimed at Andy Warhol. Fussell serves as wandering troubadour, telling stories from his travels to places far-flung and close to home. It’s a weird thing to say about a musician, but perhaps Fussell’s strongest attribute is being a good listener. He has a real ear, not just for music, but for storytelling and character. What’s more, he seems to be able to hear music where it might not yet exist, so steeped in the history and structure of folk music that he can find the song in situations and stories that haven’t been given a tune yet. To listen to a Jake Xerxes Fussell album is to be handed down stories from across genrations, all of which feel homespun with love and care from someone who recognizes the beauty in the familiar and alien alike.
#8
On the first listen or two, you’d be forgiven for thinking of Lily of the Valley as a very small album. It’s made up of just nine songs and the total run time doesn’t even cross the half-hour mark. The music has all the hallmarks of lofi indie rock: muted drums and guitars and vocals that sound like they're being sort of half-crooned by a guy walking around the house singing to himself. The lyrics seem to describe little moments of domesticity like taking a walk to the local drugstore or getting an iPhoto slideshow notification about your own wedding. But the keen-eared listener will quickly notice the darkness at the edges of these slices of suburban bliss. On “Noise Machine” the narrator describes using a washcloth on a loved one, asking “Is it so hard to let me help you?” Later in the song, he notes that nothing happened that day, claiming, “It’s a good day when nothing happens.” In the album’s songs as well as on his own social media, lead singer Will Kennedy has documented a year of caring for romantic and musical partner Kate Schneider after her brain cancer diagnosis. The pair go through good days and bad days, and take time out to enjoy the mushrooms and hummingbirds on a walk through the woods. At the end of the record, Kennedy compares Schneider to the titular flower, known for its resilience in harsh climates. Like picking up a rock from the forest floor, there’s a whole big world just under the surface of Lily of the Valley’s seemingly small tunes.
#7
By contrast, there is absolutely nothing small about Magdalena Bay. The L.A.-via-Miami hyperpop duo has always created a sound that is larger than two people ought to be reasonably able to make. Magdalena Bay’s music has always been fun and energetic, but on Imaginal Disk they go for epic, creating a space pop opera about a race of extraterrestrials that control humanity’s evolution by inserting an upgrade disc directly into our foreheads. One day, a woman named True finds her body has rejected the upgrade, and she’s forced to evolve the old-fashioned way, much to the bemusement of her alien overlords. Imaginal Disk asks what pop music sounds like at the end of the world—a question that might feel a little more pertinent now than even when it was released just last summer. At the same time, it’s kind of comforting to know there will be dancing and revelry even as the darkness begins to descend. On “Death and Romance,” the bass and drums evoke the sound of the world coming crashing down while lead singer Mica Tenenbaum sings her heart out. “Love Is Everywhere” finds the band playing the kind of sunny pop that made them Big on the Internet™ in the first place. By the album’s sing-along jam closer “The Ballad of Matt & Micah,” Magdalena Bay makes it clear that even the looming apocalypse won’t slow their hypercolor, madly creative roll.
#6
Vampire Weekend
Only God Was Above Us
No band could have more easily become a flash-in-the-pan than Vampire Weekend. Their preppy Wes Anderson cum Paul Simon mix of Upper West Side indie pop and white boy reggae made them an easy band to pick on in 2007, and no doubt some people still harbor resentment. But after five consecutive great albums, you’ve gotta hand it to them: they have staying power. They’ve weathered the departure of one of their lead creative voices and the changing landscape of the world/indie scene and come out the other side, a bit older and wiser but just as playful and musically curious as ever. Songs like “Gen X Cops” and “Capricorn” find the band swapping their once oh-so-clean guitar tones for something more dirty and fuzzed out. On “The Surfer” Rostam Batmanglij returns to co-write and produce a sun-bleached tale of a once-chill dude now “lost and deluded, trying to find [his] place.” But experimentation aside, the joy of Vampire Weekend is still in their upbeat marriage of the obscure academic with the familiar and poppy. “Classical” is a tune about how the music of tumultuous times ultimately becomes the symbol of stately order. It bops along on jittery drums and a bouncing bassline as lead singer Ezra Koenig reminds us that “the cruel, with time, becomes classical.” I don’t know if I’d describe Vampire Weekend’s music as either cruel or classical, but they’ve been a fascinating band to watch grow over time. I think it’s really interesting that they seem to be obsessed with what time does to music and art as well.
#5
Alright, here’s the true test: does an album that sounds like summer recorded directly onto vinyl wax still hit in the dark days of winter? Well, I live in Los Angeles, so I don’t really know. But my guess is, yeah, it still hits. On the second album of her 90s FM country radio phase, Katie Crutchfield dips a toe into one of the most time-honored features of the genre: the duet. MJ Lenderman provides backing vocals and guitar throughout the album, nowhere more beautifully than on the drifting, swooning, song-of-the-year contender “Right Back To It.” His more grounded monotone plays surprisingly well with Crutchfield’s lovely, soaring voice. In their recently-televised performance at the Americana Honors, they gave me young Joni and Neil vibes. But enough about Lenderman (for now), this is Crutchfield’s show. She seems to have truly found her voice in this genre, both figuratively and literally. The rasp she affected for some of Waxahatchee’s earlier, more rock-focused stuff never felt completely natural. On Saint Cloud, she seemed to loosen up a bit and let her voice just be pretty. On Tigers Blood, it’s downright beautiful, and she uses that lovely croon to tell stories of lazy days spent day drinking at the lake, taking a moment to just be present. The whole album feels like riding in a truck with all the windows down on the first warm day of the year. Maybe it’s even more powerful in the colder seasons when we need to draw on the memory of long, sunny days to get us through the even longer, darker nights.
#4
This is Lorelei
Box for Buddy, Box for Star
In the last decade, Nate Amos has released a truly disturbing amount of EPs, singles, and full-length albums as This is Lorelei, to say nothing of his MAIN band, Water From Your Eyes. Recently he signed to indie label Double Double Whammy, who must have a half-decent marketing department because Box for Buddy, Box for Star is the first TIL album to come across my desk. On it, Amos takes the idea of DIY bedroom pop to a whole new stratosphere, going from twangy country ballad to autotuned R&B dance number, to songs that employ toy instruments like the great indie twee bands of yore. What unites all these different sounds and forms of expression is Amos’s sheer joy of creating catchy pop music, and his knack for finding his voice in whatever genre he tries on. Sometimes—as is the case on album opener “Angel’s Eye”—he finds two voices in order to duet with his own damn self. Amos claims he was inspired to write the album after vowing to give up weed while visiting Stone Henge (amazing, no notes). Perhaps that’s the reason for the album’s clear Biblical imagery. “Angel’s Eye” finds a man and an angel deciding to end whatever relationship it is they have, the difference in their ability to see through time and space having become too much to reconcile. On album closer “An Extra Beat For You and Me,” Amos sings “Satan gave my wings to some mother’s son instead.” It feels telling to me that Amos has bid farewell to both the angel and the devil on his shoulder, content to bumble through life’s ups and downs on his own for a while.
#3
Twenty-something singer and guitarist MJ Lenderman seemed to come out of nowhere with 2022’s Boat Songs. It was Lenderman’s third full-length, and he’s been the lead guitarist for South Carolina indie band Wednesday for years, but Boat Songs felt like a real introduction. The album combined twangy alt-country and fuzzed-out shoegaze in a way that I truly hadn’t heard since Songs: Ohia. But unlike that group’s Jason Molina, Lenderman showed off a real sense of humor with songs about seeing Dan Marino in a local grocery store, or accusing Michael Jordan of faking his famous flu game to cover up a hangover. On Manning Fireworks, Lenderman still has jokes, but they feel less like irreverent nuggets of absurdity and more the wry observations of a guy who's getting old enough to understand that the funniest guy at the bar is often going through the deepest shit. “Joker Lips” finds a janitor at a roadside motel cleaning the most foul fluids from the shower drain, “hoping for the hours to pass a little faster.” On “She’s Leaving You,” Lenderman chronicles a man who’s using the middle-aged tropes of sports cars and Eric Clapton records to distract himself from a crumbling relationship. There are things that are inherently funny in these characters’ stories, but they’re not haha funny, they’re funny because we understand the characters’ circumstances. That’s an important distinction, and it’s what I think makes Lenderman a great songwriter rather than just the class clown. There’s also a song about Lightning McQueen getting blackout drunk and running over Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. That doesn’t really fit into the theme I’m trying to illustrate here, but I can’t not mention it.
#2
Like a lot of musicians and artists, fingerstyle/lap-tapping guitarist Yasmin Williams decamped to parts unknown to write and record her way through the pandemic. That effort resulted in her breakout album, 2021’s Urban Driftwood. It’s a lonesome, solitary record that finds Williams with no one to talk to but her guitar. Together they contemplate the silence of an unprecedented time, leaving wonderful moments for nature or the sound of a room to sit in for a solo. The record works precisely because of this intimacy, so Williams expanding her circle on her follow-up Acadia to include different guest artists on every single track could very well have caused her to lose that magic touch. But, as you have probably gleaned from the fact that it’s my second favorite album of the year, it had the exact opposite effect. Across nine songs, Williams is joined by bluegrass fiddlers, emo guitarists, and ambient vocalists to give new layers and depths to her already stunning acoustic instrumentation. Whereas Urban Driftwood invited the sounds of nature into the recording studio, Acadia uses this new arsenal of musical instruments to paint her pastoral landscapes. On “Hummingbird,” a bow dragged across fiddle strings becomes the titular animal, coming to rest ever so softly before flying back into the air at rapid speed. The song “Virga” gives sound to the track’s namesake weather phenomenon of precipitation evaporating before it hits the ground. With help from Boston indie band Darlingside, Williams produces a gentle folk song that floats just above sea level. Throughout the record, Williams and her collaborators find new and exciting ways to use their instruments and voices, making Acadia one of the most pleasant surprises of 2024.
#1
Not trying to play the I Listen to More Music Than You card (though, I mean, I guess that’s probably why you’re reading this in the first place), but Caroline Says is a criminally underrated artist. There are songs on this record with just a few thousand Spotify listens, of which I genuinely believe I could be responsible for like 10%. By now you may have picked up on the fact that I have a thing for songs that find the monumental in the mundane, the small moments that carry invisible weight. Honestly, I didn’t know that myself until I made this list and repeated that same idea like ten or eleven times. Well, if that’s a thing I’m into, then no one did it better this year than Caroline Says. On The Lucky One, Caroline Sallee digs into her memories to pluck the little moments that are ripe with the most meaning. More than this, though, she examines what it means to remember and to place significant emotional emphasis on nostalgia. More often than not, she finds the moments bend under such scrutiny. Revisiting an old bar, she sees that the name has changed and remarks to the song’s unnamed subject, “I wish I could tell you that.” There were once two people in the world who would care that this bar’s name changed, and now, for whatever reason, that number has been halved. Many of the songs on The Lucky One follow a familiar, lilting, indie folk formula that Sallee does just exceptionally well. But it’s the songs where she delves into ambient and electronic—the 808 drumbeat of “Eyes in the Night” or the vocoder of “Daze”—that stand out from the rest and take the record somewhere else entirely. At only 35 minutes of total runtime, this is an easy record to hit repeat on, and float away into the sound. And, if my Spotify and Last.fm stats are to be believed, I have been doing just that nearly every day since the album was released. It’s the kind of record that seamlessly works its way into your life, and it’s become the soundtrack of my year of renewal and rediscovery.
To hear music from those albums—and more!—check out my new Spotify playlist, NO DOOM: The Best of 2024.
Whew! We did it! That’s all for December—that’s all for 2024!! I hope you enjoyed it. See you next year!
XOXOX