The List 2024

Hello and welcome to The List 2024: a countdown of my top 20 albums of the year. To be eligible a record has to be full-length and studio recorded. This tradition dates back to the year 2000, so 2024 is the twenty-fifth iteration. You can find links to my lists for all the previous years at the end of this one.

If you’re also interested in my favourite films of 2024, you can find a list of those over on Letterboxd.

But this is the place for music. Let’s get underway.

20.

Chemtrails

The Joy of Sects

First up this year is a record that’s difficult to classify. The Joy of Sects (not sure if I like that title or not, but I’m gonna go with it) is Chemtrails’ third release, and their first album to step beyond their previous unpolished approach into a shiny world of production. It’s a record that’s musically schizophrenic, jumping around pop-punk, B-52s-style new wave, the surf rock side of the Pixies’ golden era, disco, power glam, and psychedelia. It’s all held together by a commitment to bouncy hooks – however they may come – and by the constant presence of the distinctive twin helium vocals provided by Mia Lust and Laura Orlova. Those squeaky voices are, I suspect, going to turn some people right off this record, which would be a shame because for me they just help Chemtrails feel, well… something a bit different. The record’s lyrics are appropriately calibrated to its music – everything is wry and tongue in cheek, but it’s also all masking substance. There are reflections on the modern rat race (via some twisting of the words to a Boney-M classic: ‘they call me ra-ra Rasputin, rushing all the time…’), techno fear, and some personal reflections on the challenges Lust has faced as a trans woman. On the latter, the fact that Chemtrails have been active supporters of trans rights (appearing at trans events, etc) has made them a target for hate in recent years (sigh). The fact they’ve responded to that b/s with this unapologeticly grandiose, smeared-lipstick candyfloss explosion of a record is something to be celebrated.

19.

J. Robbins

Basilisk

J. Robbins’ second solo record further departs from the aggro punk of the various bands he’s previously been a member of (most famously Jawbone – with which I’m only vaguely familiar), and sees him moving into much more melodic territory. That said, his punk roots are still there under the surface. While Basilisk doesn’t ever aim for anything all that ‘heavy’, a number of the tracks are still based on propulsive baselines and punk-style drumbeats (see, for example, the surprisingly sharp elbows of ‘Last War’ – which reminds me a little of some of the work of forgotten 90s geniuses Novocaine). Even on the mellower tracks, like the mumble-ballad ‘Not the End’ or the electro dirt of closer ‘Dead Eyed God’, there’s always a stripped back, DIY feel to act as a reminder that Basilisk is something of a punk rock record in disguise. It should be no surprise that it was released through legendary D.C. punk stable Discord Records, even though on the surface it sounds nothing like most of its labelmates. Lyrically, Robbins shoots for something quite personal and reflective here, often poetically (‘Counting glass tears on a passionless face…’). For the most part, anyway: like a number of 2024 releases, there are also existential concerns of a much wider scope, specifically regarding a potential looming apocalypse (‘No momentary grace, no hiding place’). I guess there’s quite a lot to worry about in the world right now.

18.

Cairo Knife Fight

Dream Season

This album’s cover and title made me think I was in for a bit of cheesy classic prog rock when I gave it a try (based on a recommendation by the all-knowing algorithm) in the summer. It’s not that. Although there are some progressive elements to the record, Cairo Knife Fight’s main influences are some of the best hard rock acts of the 90s. Opener ‘AFTERBIAS’ is more than a little bit reminiscent of early Stone Temple Pilots, and ‘You Want a Sign’ only just stays the right side of the outright plagiarism of Faith No More. Both of those tracks are great, if familiar. Best on show here by a mile, though, is the utterly incredible ‘The Violence of Action’: an 8.5-minute masterpiece, based around a single, deceptively simple riff. Very obviously influenced by the second wave of stoner rock (think the first Queens of the Stone Age album from 1998), I like it more than anything QOTSA have put out in over a decade. Indeed, I think it might even be my favourite standalone track of 2024. The rest of the record isn’t especially close to that quality, in honesty, and perhaps anyway is too derivative to be truly great. Even so, Dream Season as a whole is still worthy of its List placing (albeit ‘The Violence of Action’ surely cemented it). Everything here is made more impressive by the fact that Cairo Knife Fight are a two-piece and play live by recording and looping all of the parts to end up sounding like a five or six piece. It also helps that Dream Season is right in my music taste sweet spot: 90s rock just… rocks. That algorithm knows its stuff.

17.

Orange Goblin

Science, Not Fiction

The stoner rock legends hit their 30-year anniversary in 2024, and they’ve celebrated in style with the excellent Science, Not Fiction. In a similar way to Therapy?’s Hard Cold Fire from last year, this album represents a long-term favourite band of mine producing their best work for a very long time, while still falling some distance short of their top tier early material. This is album 10 for Orange Goblin, and it delivers consistently. The band are now so comfortable in their own skins that everything feels effortless: banger after banger with no fuss. There are, admittedly, few surprises on Science, Not Fiction: the Goblin long ago abandoned their early experimentation with elements of psychedelia, punk, and blues, to settle on a more straightforward stoner rock template. That said, the introduction of Harry Armstrong on bass (their first new member in 20-odd years) has importantly refreshed things a little. Ultimately, Science, Not Fiction is only mid-ranking Orange Goblin when considered against their back catalogue as a whole. It’s the best collection of songs they’ve produced for over a decade, though, which is probably the most that could reasonably be asked of them 30 years in, not to mention being comfortably enough for the record to make this List.

16.

Royal Republic

LoveCop

This album is ridiculous, but also ridiculously fun. Royal Republic are goodtime retro rockers playing in a pre-90s-angst sandpit. And they’re clearly having a ball. LoveCop features a mix of bombastic 80s big-hair metal, synthpop and party rock. The result is some kind of unholy mashup of Judas Priest, The Human League, and Kool & the Gang. A glance at the album cover is enough to tell you all you really need to know... Although it’s undoubtedly silly, LoveCop always manages to stay the right side of parody because of the sincerity of the delivery (that moustache is worn with real feeling) and – crucially – the sheer quality of the songs. This is a record that’s absolutely packed full of choruses to sing along to (see ‘Electra’ and ‘Wow Wow Wow’ – both just awesome). It’s also got funky riffs to make you stomp (for example, the aptly named ‘Boots’), and a couple of power ballads to bring on the tears (for example, ‘Razorlove’ 😢). I think 10 years ago I might well have been pretentiously dismissive of this record, but thankfully with age comes wisdom. And what’s wiser than piping undiluted sugar-fun into your earholes for 35 minutes? For an extra little bonus, why not check out Royal Republic’s live ‘mini cover’ of Metallica’s ‘Battery’ from their appearance at the Download Festival in 2019? It’s a doozy.

15.

Chelsea Wolfe

She Reaches Out to She Reaches Out to She

Chelsea Wolfe is an artist who I had only a superficial familiarity with prior to 2024. Her seventh record certainly had me taking notice, though: it’s an impressive, hugely ambitious affair. Lyrically, She Reaches Out to She Reaches Out to She is primarily focused on addiction; Wolfe takes the confronting approach of highlighting the downsides of sobriety rather than of insobriety. All quite dark stuff, and worlds away from ‘girl meets boy’. Musically, the album features a strong undercurrent of trip hop, which was my route into it. Marta’s 2023 List-topper has got me digging into what’s going on in the genre more than I have in years, but this is probably the closest thing to a ‘trip hop record’ on this year’s List. It’s also, well, not a ‘trip hop record’, at least not in the traditional sense. Wolfe blends that genre’s ambient beats with darkwave electronica and gothic rock (as well as adding occasional touches of metal – a sandpit she has played in before). The result is something well beyond trip hop, which is sonically challenging and occasionally disconcerting. Along with another record (which shall stay unnamed for now…), She Reaches Out to She Reaches Out to She somewhat defined the first quarter of 2024 for me – I was playing it on constant rotation in March. I was a little surprised to find, therefore, when I started to put The List together that it had tumbled down the rankings this far in the subsequent 8 months. It’s nonetheless a fantastic record, and one that I suspect may stick with me longer than many of the records that I have placed above it. NB: worth flagging the EP that Wolfe released in November, entitled Unbound, which features reworked acoustic versions of four tracks from She Reaches Out to She Reaches Out to She (as well as one cover) – also fantastic.

14.

Mother Mother

Grief Chapter

This is Canadian band Mother Mother’s ninth record – they’ve been around for two decades or so now – but I’d never heard of them before 2024. They entered my orbit via a recommendation by an old friend, way back in February. Grief Chapter is a hugely entertaining album, wrapping complex ideas in catchy, shiny packaging. It shares some DNA with Chemtrails’ The Joy of Sects (in at #20), in that both involve glam-influenced indie rock that mixes accessibility with weirdness. Grief Chapter is the considerably more focused of the two records, though: Mother Mother are deep enough into their career now that they’ve honed their songwriting to levels of consistent excellence. While the art pop assault of ‘The Matrix’ is definitely my favourite track here, there is something to love everywhere one looks. As its title suggests, Grief Chapter is primarily interested in death, with recurring themes of living life while you can, the futility of existence, one’s twilight years, and, of course, grief itself. It all could have had quite a ‘midlife crisis’ feel to it, but the juxtaposition of such lyrical angst with the more uplifting, glitzy music keeps things from ever getting morose. Having enjoyed Grief Chapter so much, I’ve recently begun to scratch the surface of Mother Mother’s extensive back catalogue and it’s already clear that they have loads of interesting work for me to explore. On the to-do list for 2025.

13.

Conan Gray

Found Heaven

We’re in the midst of a major 80s synthpop revival, and I’m a little surprised about how much I’m into it given I was never especially big on the genre at the time. It came a little early for me, although I guess I caught the tail end of it (mostly via Top of the Pops) before the 90s hit and all I wanted were guitars. In this context, Found Heaven occupies the same ‘space’ that Nation of Language’s fantastic Strange Disciple did last year, keeping me topped up with a fresh dose of this new retro side interest that I’ve unexpectedly acquired. Found Heaven certainly isn’t as good as Strange Disciple (#2 in 2023), but it’s nonetheless a great glam-synth record. And it comes from an unlikely source: a Texan former child-YouTuber turned baby-bopper idol. For me, Gray’s first two albums are both samey (if, in fairness, actually quite good) contemporary sub-Swift pop. This third record is a significant – and very self-conscious – change of course. That it’s this good, from a standing start in this genre, is to Gray’s immense credit (worth noting that he has a songwriting credit, sole or partial, for every track here). It’s all relatively simple synthpop, but full of top tier hooks. There’s also a healthy sprinkling of ballads to keep things varied. Lyrically, Found Heaven explores timeless themes of love and loss, but with a Gen Z slant that’s somewhat anachronistic to its musical approach (I’m not sure anyone in 1985 was especially worried about ‘toxicity’). The end result is a nice blend of old and new, which feels like a fresh twist on a classic genre. It’s not a record that tears up any rulebooks, but it uses some of the old ones (40+ years old…) extremely well.

12.

Pearl Jam

Dark Matter

Talk about a surprise. While there have occasionally been things I’ve enjoyed about post-90s Pearl Jam, by and large I’ve found their records over the last 25 years to be very poor. I still play their 90s albums all the time, of course (excepting No Code – although even that record I’ve somewhat reappraised recently), and when I finally got to see them live in 2008 it was so much fun. But as a going concern, I largely wrote Pearl Jam off almost two decades ago. It was a shock, then, when Dark Matter turned out to be excellent. The surprise is admittedly more in the quality of the songwriting than the nature of it. Dark Matter is certainly ‘a Pearl Jam record’ – mixing trademark catchy grunge powerchords (see ‘Running’) with anthemic rock ballads (see ‘Wreckage’). That said, there are a few welcome curveballs too, such as the proggy closer ‘Setting Sun’, which reminds me of some of the weirder stuff on Vitalogy. The common critique in reviews that Vedder’s voice isn’t what it once was is accurate to a point, but it’s still a pretty great voice (and remains very distinctive). And the songs are just so good one hardly notices anyway. While Dark Matter still falls a distance short of their 90s work, it’s comfortably my favourite Pearl Jam album since Yield in 1998. Which means – remarkably for a band that I have liked so much and for so long – that this is Pearl Jam’s first ever appearance on The List (on what is its twenty-fifth iteration). Because the last time they released an album I liked enough to be a potential entry was before I had even started writing an annual list. Contender for greatest comeback album in rock history - ?

11.

Porcelain

Porcelain

Next up is this extremely impressive debut by post-hardcore newcomers Porcelain. It’s a textured, ‘grown-up’ album full of musical invention and challenging themes. Some of the stalwarts of the genre have clearly provided inspiration for the record. One can make comparisons to early Fugazi (especially on the heavier tracks like ‘Vanity’). And there are even more parallels to the work of fellow Austin, TX natives …And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead. But Porcelain also differentiate themselves by expanding on those influences. There are, for example, a number of comparatively ethereal segments that are closer to post-rock than post-hardcore. Whereas, moving in a completely different direction, ‘Plastic’ reminds me of a Mutoid Man track and the structure of ‘Invoices’ has a little bit of Tool about it (i.e., here and there the record skirts metal). The quality is a little inconsistent on the second half of the album, but that can certainly be forgiven. This is a debut from a young band. Plus, if …AYWKUBTTOD is your role model, it’s almost required – one of the most inconsistent rock acts of the last 30 years… In any event, even with a few slightly weaker tracks, this placing on the cusp of the top 10 is fully justified. At the same time, Porcelain feels like an opening gambit rather than a definitive statement: there’s room to grow, and I’m excited to see where Porcelain go from here.

10.

The Last Dinner Party

Prelude to Ecstasy

As debut albums go, they don’t get much more ambitious, or much more confident, than The Last Dinner Party’s Prelude to Ecstasy. Delivering on the buzz that grew to fever pitch during 2023, this is an excellent record of theatrical excess. There are echoes of everything from new wave eccentrics like Sparks or Kate Bush, through more recent folk indie weirdos like H. Hawkline or Cate le Bon, and all the way to emo prog whingers My Chemical Romance. Prelude to Ecstasy hits hard with some powerful feminist themes (see, for example, my favourite track on the record, ‘Feminine Urge’, which features lines like ‘Do you feel like a man when I can’t talk back?’), but it’s always dressed up in such flamboyance that it never seems like a sermon. Constantly interesting and unexpected, Prelude to Ecstasy is a record that feels both out of time and timeless. Alongside Chelsea Wolfe’s She Reaches Out to She Reaches Out to She, this record was ubiquitous for me during the first quarter of 2024. Obviously – also like Wolfe’s record – it has waned a bit since. A slightly more consistent follow-up could be a world beater, though. Oh, and I don’t care about the persistent claims that The Last Dinner Party are a manufactured band and ‘inauthentic’. First, because I have no idea how true those claims are, and secondly because it doesn’t really matter anyway: when it comes to music, if it’s good, it’s good; if it feels authentic then it is authentic. And there’s no doubt: Prelude to Ecstasy is good and feels authentic.

Barren Womb

Chemical Tardigrade

A quick glance would suggest that this was bad. Bad band name, bad album name, bad album cover. A couple of strong reviews made me give it a go anyway, and half a track in I’d forgotten about all that superficial stuff. Turns out: good. Barren Womb aren’t some kind of Nordic black metal act like their name might imply (although, as it happens, they are Nordic). Instead, they’re a noise rock two-piece in the vein of Big Business or Death from Above 1979. Simple but inventive scuzzy hooks is the name of the game here, and Chemical Tardigrade is overflowing with them. Tracks like ‘Dung Lung’ and ‘Illiterati’ are catchy earworms, although elsewhere the likes of ‘Blackout Yoga’ provide a less melodic, darker side to the album. Despite its overall accessibility, there are some decidedly weird time signatures on Chemical Tardigrade too, which set it apart. Lyrically, it mixes a bit of uninspiring rock star hedonism (while that kind of thing works well on Royal Republic’s OTT LoveCop, it does grate a little here) with much more meaningful themes, such as the importance of education and rationality (now those lyrics are my jam). It also features numerous fantastic little lyrical flourishes: ‘Just because you read well, it doesn’t make you well read’ is my personal favourite, but there are various contenders. The overall result is a real gift of a noise rock record. It’s just a bit of a shame about the wrapping.

Rosie Tucker

UTOPIA NOW!

UTOPIA NOW! is Rosie Tucker’s fifth record, but I’d not come across their work before, so it was something of a revelation for me. It calls to mind various artists I’ve really enjoyed in recent years: records by the likes of Blondshell, Stella Donnelly, Courtney Barnett et al have similarities to this album, both musically and lyrically. That said, Tucker brings their own unique approach. Musically, UTOPIA NOW! delivers catchy, light-touch pop/indie, but with occasional emo sharpness (it even, once in a while, borders on math rock). For the most part the songs aren’t too musically complex, but there are exceptions and even the simpler tracks are often unpredictable (take the odd opening to the album’s final song, ‘Eternal Life’). Tucker is an excellent songwriter, and wrings so much from their guitar refrains, in particular. But I think it’s lyrically where the record really excels. UTOPIA NOW! explores themes like the inequity of the music business, the power and amorality of the capitalist machine, apathy, and intolerance. As such, it could have felt very preachy, but Tucker never lets that happen. Their muscular ideas are approached with wit (sometimes acerbic, sometimes whimsical), and a great turn of phrase: e.g., ‘I hope no one had to piss in a bottle at work to get me the thing I ordered on the internet, but I am no responsible party, I’m just a middle-sized fish in a pile of plastic wider than Texas'. Now, that’s the stuff. A beautiful and deeply meaningful, but also quite gentle, record.

Dvne

Voidkind

Scottish post-metal madness, with giant sandworms! Yummy stuff. It’s pronounced ‘dune’ and was initially spelled that way too until threatened legal action from some other band called ‘Dune’ forced them to switch the ‘u’ for a ‘v’. Named after Frank Herbert’s sci-fi classic, and occasionally featuring lyrical references to it too, as soon as I discovered Dvne there was no question that I was going to gobble them up like a stranded spice harvester. Voidkind is their fourth record, and – having now backtracked a little – I’m fairly sure it’s their best work so far. Dvne’s take on post-metal immediately calls to mind the more proggy end of Mastodon’s output (say, Crack the Skye from 2009). Elder, another band that has graced The List before, are a notable touchpoint too, especially in the mellower (never mellow!) sections of Voidkind. I also hear a bit of everyone’s favourite instrumental post-metal pioneers Pelican, at least here and there. There are some hooky riffs once in a while – ‘Abode of the Perfect Soul’ in particular has a killer, thrashy refrain – but for the most part this is at the opaquer end of the post-metal genre. It’s sludgy and dense, with complex, multi-part arrangements overlapping within each of its tracks. A record that took numerous plays to fully unlock, Voidkind was released in April but only truly came into its own for me in November/December. To summarise, then: this is an impenetrable, indulgent progressive metal album with few hooks, rooted in veiled references to a geeky sci-fi series, and featuring lots and lots of guttural shouting. It is unlikely to be for most people.

Many Eyes

The Light Age

I came to metalcore legends Every Time I Die very late. My entry point was their ninth record, Radical, which came a respectable #15 on this List in 2021. Radical has since grown significantly in my estimation, and, looking back, was the record that unlocked for me the true potential of metalcore as a genre (sub-genre? hybrid genre?). In other words, it has a lot to answer for. But, then, within a few months of Radical’s release and while I was just starting to explore their back catalogue, ETID imploded in acrimonious and very public fashion: legal actions and serious accusations flew in all directions.

2024 saw the release of the debut albums of not one but two bands that emerged from the ETID wreckage. In the red corner, Many Eyes is vocalist Keith Buckley’s post-break up band, and it’s impossible not to listen to The Light Age without viewing it as an outpouring of his anger and pain about the manner of ETID’s demise. Lyrically, The Light Age mixes messages of rebirth and self-sufficiency with thinly disguised potshots at Buckley’s former band mates (one of whom, to add extra spice, is his brother Jordan). Musically, The Light Age is still in the ETID mould, although with fewer weird timings and more melodic sections. Buckley here croons nearly as often as he screams. It’s a focused record, less about adventure than about clarity. Quality wise, the first three tracks of The Light Age are all astounding, and as good as (better than?) ETID at their very best. Unfortunately, that initial level of quality isn’t quite sustained: had it been, this record would likely have topped this List and been a genre all timer. As it is, The Light Age is still an excellent melodic metalcore record, memorably jet propelled by one of the ugliest band break ups in history.

Better Lovers

Highly Irresponsible

…And in the blue corner: the other band to emerge from Every Time I Die’s demise, metalcore supergroup Better Lovers. Unlike with The Light Age, the ETID origin story is less crucial here. Better Lovers for the most part ignore it and move on, which one suspects might have hit Keith Buckley harder than any mudslinging ever could have. In any event, to the extent that this year saw a high-profile battle of the ETID break up albums, this wins, albeit not by anywhere near the distance I was expecting. In the end, although it’s just the way they happened to fall, I guess it’s fitting that I have ended up ranking The Light Age and Highly Irresponsible side by side.

Better Lovers features no fewer than three former ETDI members, including the aforementioned main antagonist of The Light Age, Jordan Buckley on guitar. Added to that are also ex-The Dillinger Escape Plan shouty man Greg Puciato and still current Fit for an Autopsy guitarist (and metalcore uber-producer – twisting his knobs all over the place on this record) Will Putney. Supergroup indeed.

It’s been two months or so since its release and I still have a strange relationship with Highly Irresponsible. It was my most anticipated album of 2024 for sure, following Better Lovers’ utterly exceptional debut EP from July 2023 (which I still play on at least a weekly basis 18 months on), two equally exceptional standalone singles and a string of excellent pre-release singles from this record. Before it dropped, I thought there was a very good chance this album would top this List. It never really came that close, though, and I was very disappointed with it on release. Some of that was probably unrealistic expectation, but there’s no denying that, at least as a whole, Highly Irresponsible isn’t as good as previous Better Lovers releases. All of its best tracks (with one exception: the anthemic ‘Deliver Us from Life’) were already available as singles before it released, with the ‘new’ tracks being of more mixed quality.

However, once I’d accepted that Highly Irresponsible wasn’t the all-conquering masterpiece that I hoped it would (and thought it might well) be, I’ve grown to love what it actually is. And that’s one of the most varied metalcore releases that I can recall. Indeed, part of the reason for the album’s inconsistent quality comes from the fact that Better Lovers are trying lots of things here, which is to be applauded even if not all of them work. Of course, there’s anvil-on-brain heavy (‘Drowning in a Burning World’), but also melodic singalongs (‘At All Times’) and old-fashioned hardcore (‘A White Horse Covered in Blood’ – the only track on show here that I think truly stands shoulder to shoulder with the material on their 2023 EP). When Highly Irresponsible is good, it’s very good. And Better Lovers’ penchant for exploration, on what’s a debut record after all, bodes well for future releases. I guess the fact that it amounts to ‘a disappointment’ but still has ended up reaching #5 on this List speaks volumes. I love it. But I also want more from them, because they have already shown so spectacularly that they are capable of more. Much more.

Another Sky

Beach Day

On most occasions when I sit down to write my annual List, I find there is a distinct gap between the year’s utterly essential records and ‘the rest’ (however good ‘the rest’ might well be). This year that dividing line is located here: Beach Day is the first of four 2024 defining records for me.

I really enjoyed Another Sky’s 2020 debut, I Slept on The Floor, but not enough for it to make that year’s List. This sophomore effort is a massive step up. Another Sky make anthemic, proggy shoegaze, albeit relatively light on the prog – enough to keep things interesting but not more. Beach Day features as many head-bobbing melodies, riffs, and soaring choruses as it does shimmering dreamscapes. It also features 90s and early 00s influences aplenty. Radiohead are a reference point (especially The Bends, but also OK Computer and then, on closer ‘Swirling Smoke’, Kid A). Snow Patrol are perhaps an even more persistent comparator: the opening of ‘I Never Had Control’, for example, is right off Final Straw. At the record’s heavier end, ‘Psychopath’ has something of the Muse about it. All of the tracks are great instrumentally, but the reason Beach Day goes stratospheric is because of Catrin Vincent’s astounding voice, which ranges from androgynous croon to full blown falsetto. Her unique vocals are showcased here far better than on the band’s debut and are stunning across this whole record. Add to that some wonderful lyrics, which range from the lambasting of our new post-truth world (see ‘A Feeling’: ‘she thinks she has all the facts / well, I have a feeling’), to traumatic themes of control and abuse (see the aforementioned, and frankly devastating, ‘I Never Had Control’: ‘my body is so much more than what happened to it’).

Overall, Beach Day is an outstanding record. It’s concerning, then, that Another Sky initially postponed, and then cancelled, their supporting tour, with ominous statements about ‘respecting privacy’. Seemingly they are now on indefinite hiatus. First and most importantly, of course, I hope all the band members (and all their special people) are ok, or very soon will be. Secondarily, I do hope we get more Another Sky at some point, in some form. Cause they have just cracked it, and at the very least they deserve the victory lap.

Contention

Artillery from Heaven

Underground straight edge crazies Contention have come out swinging with a truly fantastic debut record. Operating somewhere along the hardcore/metalcore borderline, Artillery from Heaven is a thunderous assault on the senses. At times it travels at light speed – those kinetic punk influences are never very far away. But elsewhere it delivers chugging, rolling metal, calling to mind the likes of mid-90s Pantera or Machine Head. The best tracks here – like ‘Inflict My Will’, or album standout ‘I.C.B.M.’ – mix the two strands of Contention’s DNA: rocketing along franticly before breaking down into rumbling, head-nodding groove metal. Fast or slow, though, everything on Artillery from Heaven is deeply rooted in percussion. Its songs are built around a hammering double kick drum pedal and a detuned bass guitar. That meaty core allows for some unusual exploration from the band’s two duelling lead guitars, who serve up harmonised refrains that at times would be more common in thrash than metalcore. It’s a record that builds on various strands of punk and metal past, but always with a contemporary twist. And it’s one hell of a ride. At 21 minutes, Artillery from Heaven is small but perfectly formed. In, out, no weak tracks. Bam.

Huge kudos to the excellent Heavy Blog is Heavy – fast becoming the source for all things metal – for championing this album on its release in May. Contention haven’t yet gained much of a following beyond their local Tampa, FL straight edge scene (although surely that has to change soon). So I think there would probably have been little chance that I’d have found this brutal gem without HBiH’s help. I’ll have to send them the bills for my decimated eardrums.

Turns out that the best metalcore record this year – by a distance – had nothing whatsoever to do with Every Time I Die. Who would have thought? And with Ithaca announcing their split in late 2024 (still not over that news), an out of the blue classic like Artillery from Heaven gives me hope for the future of the genre.

Oceanator

Everything is Love and Death

Elise Okusami’s fourth record under her Oceanator moniker was my introduction to her work, and what an introduction. Everything is Love and Death – an album title of beautiful simplicity – is one of those records that I fell in love with during my first play of it. It’s now one of my favourite indie rock records of the 2020s so far. Okusami hits the balance between the personal and the universal perfectly here. There’s passion and heartbreak but also reflection and an engagement with wider, more existential human concerns (not least, as is a recurring theme this year, fear of the apocalypse). Her lyrics are unfussy but genuine, taking both the good and the bad in hand. Love, and death. Musically, Okusami builds everything around hook and melody, albeit in a range of ways. The structures of a few of the early tracks on Everything is Love and Death remind me a little of some of the songs on the first three Weezer records – talk about high praise. Elsewhere, though, there’s a tinge of sunny 80s guitar pop (see ‘Be Here’), as well as something a little knottier, approaching The Argument era Fugazi (see both ‘Drain the Well’ and ‘Drift Away’). And my favourite track on the record, the beautiful ‘Won’t Someone’, closes things with a perfect acoustic refrain that worms into the head before slowly opening its wings and flying. Wow.

Taking a significant chunk of time in the studio to record the album has definitely paid off for Okusami. Everything here is so carefully crafted and infused with meaning. Collaborating with Grammy-winning chameleon producer Will Yip – who has worked with acts as diverse as Lauryn Hill and Turnstile – was also a master stroke. Yip ensures texture, but also doesn’t over-do things: all that painstaking composition never ends up feeling stale, with Yip’s light touch breathing life into the record.

Ultimately, Everything is Love and Death is an absolute triumph, delivering rich but uncomplicated guitar pop-rock of the very highest quality.

Plovers

Fear the Man Who Hides in Light

At the summit of The List this year sits a perfect post-hardcore record. It’s Plovers’ debut, and also final, album. There’s no question that the circumstances surrounding its release have added to its mystique and appeal. After years of scrubbing around as an underground band in the Melbourne post-hardcore scene, Plovers were finally in a position to make a record. And, my goodness, did they grasp that opportunity with both hands. But then, immediately on its release, they announced they were breaking up, booked in a small farewell gig a few weeks later, and stated very clearly that it was their final show and there would never, ever, be a reunion. With that, Plovers did a Keyser Söze: poof, they were gone. The very same month that this album appeared, and I was falling deeply in love with it. That this fantastic record (and two strong prior EPs) is all I’m ever going to get makes Fear the Man Who Hides in Light feel extra special.

The approach that Plovers take (took, I guess) to post-hardcore is situated at the genre’s more accessible end. They’re certainly capable of the more progressive, complex version too, à la Porcelain (who released the other great post-hardcore record this year). That ability is demonstrated by three tracks on Fear the Man Who Hides in Light (lead single ‘Putrid Thoughts’, and the album’s final two songs: ‘Shade’ and ‘Not Exempt’). All three move things into different territory, of a much more ‘open’ sort, to great effect. But for the most part this is a record of simplicity: hooks and instantly memorable choruses. The sung/shouted explosion of opener ‘John Lennon’ sets the tone, worming deep into the head before the killer second track, ‘Greed’, ramps things up even more. From then on, we’re just flying.

It’s worth noting that Fear the Man Who Hides in Light shares some connective tissue with Press to MECO’s excellent Transmute, which topped The List in 2021. And not just cause they’re both great post-hardcore records released immediately before the respective bands that made them broke up. Transmute is also full of powerful but immensely catchy tunes. And both records are elevated above the pack by excellent, socially focused lyrics. Where MECO’s main concern was the environmental crisis, though, Plovers are leftist woke warriors – taking aim at capitalist greed, far right hate, and a stagnant white-cis-straight-male world view. It’s not for show, they have real fire in their bellies. These snowflakes are made of iron. That sincerity is crucial to their appeal, as is the fact that the lyrics are great not just at the thematic level, but line by line: ‘You’ve got a leer/that makes it clear/that you’re a misogynist’ is my favourite, but I like pretty much every word.

Fantastic lyrics mean little if the tunes aren’t there, of course. And so it’s the combination of the two that makes this record so outstanding. I still go back to Transmute all the time; no question Fear the Man Who Hides in Light will be joining it as one of my handful of go-to post-hardcore records from now onwards. And maybe one day I’ll get a reunion album to add to it. You never know.

Two fun facts

Fun fact #1

There was just one artist on my List this year that had placed in a previous edition. 2024 is Orange Goblin’s third appearance on The List, but all 19 other acts were first timers.

That is the lowest number of recurring acts since 2001, when there were none. But 2001 was only the second time I wrote a list, making it highly unlikely that an artist would put out another record the very next year that also made it (plus I only listed eight albums in 2000, and only ten in 2001). Yet even in 2002 there were two returning artists (Feeder and Coldplay), and there have been at least two (often more – sometimes a lot more – than two) every year since. Until now.

Fun fact #2

Plovers’ #1 ranking this year means Australia has become only the sixth nation to produce an artist that has topped my List, across what is now twenty-five editions. Suffice to say, it is not a geographically diverse bunch.

United Kingdom	11
United States	10
Australia	1
Canada	1
Poland	1
Sweden	1

The List 2022
Spotify taster playlist for The List 2022

The List 2021
Spotify taster playlist for The List 2021

The List 2024

Two fun facts

Spotify wrapped 2024

Spotify taster playlist for 2024

Previous years