2024: What a Good Year for Music!
Or, a ranking of my ten favorite albums that came out this year.
It’s list season for the music world, so now it’s time for me to contribute to the conversation.
Music in 2024 was nothing short of indulgent. I don’t know what was in the air that prompted artists to push themselves lyrically and musically, but exciting, fresh, marvellous pieces of art were found across all genres. From impressive, critically acclaimed records like MJ Lenderman’s Manning Fireworks, to surprise instant hits like Kendrick Lamar’s GNX, to unexpected and quirky hidden gems like Cindy Lee’s Diamond Jubilee, to solid pop albums like Sabrina Carpenter’s Short n’ Sweet or Billie Eilish’s HIT ME HARD AND SOFT, it seems like we struck gold this year.
The following ten albums are my favorite that were released throughout the year. (NOTE: I did not say “best.” There is a difference—although my #1 *is* the best album of 2024, regardless of whatever anyone else thinks or says.) Feel free to scroll through it out of curiosity, read my thoughts, and maybe press “Play” on the songs you haven’t heard before!
10. PRATTS & PAIN (Royel Otis)
An alt rock album that hits all the sweet spots, Royel Otis’ PRATTS & PAIN stays clean, cool, and young. The nonchalance behind all the vocals, flattened and always keeping up with the plucky rhythm guitar, keeps the record from trying to be more than it is: a collection of really good songs with catchy hooks, great instrumentation and production, and good vibes (“Adored,” “Foam,” “Sofa King”). Yet there’s also an early-2010s indie pop charm channeling Phoenix, Grouplove, Arcade Fire and MGMT within tracks like “Fried Rice,” “Sonic Blue,” and “Molly” that adds dimension to an otherwise standard rock sound. “Velvet” is the record’s centerpiece, indulging in a punkier messiness complete with electric piano solos, discordant chanting, and clashing guitars and drum. While it’s not the riskiest album that came out this year, it’s a solid piece of music to support the wave of new listeners Royel Otis amassed after covering Sophie Ellis Bextor’s “Murder on the Dancefloor” and The Cranberries’ “Linger.”
9. What’s Wrong With New York? (The Dare)
People didn’t like him until he produced “Guess” for Charli xcx (some still don’t), but I knew The Dare was going to become a household name when I first started slipping “Girls” into my party playlists in 2022. What’s Wrong With New York? contains humorous, brash lyrics coupled with the undeniably cool and confident production. The Dare knows music is ultimately a full body experience meant for pleasure, yet he still treats it like an art, balancing some of the sillier concepts (“Perfume” and “You’re Invited”) with punchy, satisfying, iconic moments—not just one-liners. (Look no further than the rowdy chorus of “Open Up” or the literal crashes and beat drop during and after “What’s a blogger to a rocker? / What’s a rocker to The Dare?” in “I Destroyed Disco.”) It’s unfair to write off What’s Wrong With New York? as an LCD Soundsystem homage (“All Night”), or even an early Calvin Harris/Avicii imitation (“Elevation”), as many critics did this year. This album should be read as a celebration of the East Coast dance scene from 2001 to now, establishing The Dare’s original take on the spirit and sensibilities of the city’s next generation of partygoers—a demographic brimming with energy and excitement for socialization after such an isolating, delayed start to young adulthood. New York City/Manhattan supremacy forever; I’m *literally* in the city while you’re online!
8. Cartoon Darkness (Amyl and The Sniffers)
Amyl and the Sniffers are obnoxious, dirty, angry, yet so full of wit and charisma, that Cartoon Darkness stands out by its personality alone. The half-singing, half-screaming of the vocals, accompanied by the explicit and punchy lyrics, as well as the constant loud thrashes of the band, makes this record the newest addition to the riot grrrl tradition. Furthermore, the lyrics cement Cartoon Darkness in its time: “Jerkin’” encapsulates the frustrations of online behavioral patterns, where a man can (and will) lust for and loathe a woman who merely exists on the Internet, and “Tiny Bikini” becomes a satirical anthem protesting conservative hypocrisy that feeds rape culture. In Cartoon Darkness, Amyl and the Sniffers never forgo femininity—in fact, Amy seems to find euphoria in her gender and sexual identity (“Me and The Girls,” “Motorbike Song,” “Doing In Me Head”)—and their raw and frenetic portrayal of the woman’s experience only adds to the current political conversations around our rights, how men see us, and how frustrating everything has become. Most importantly, Amy is a STAR; she’s the only person worth comparing to icons like Courtney Love at this time.
7. brat (Charli xcx)
Duh, it’s brat. This album was the culmination of all the hard work Charli xcx put into her career and the world of alternative pop music since she first started attracting fans in 2013. There’s not much to say to contribute to what’s already been written because I agree with the masses that it’s really, really good. (I’ve also written about it twice on here.) I’m just disappointed in the general public for missing the how i’m feeling now (2020) album rollout and release in its entirety. THAT is when Charli xcx should have become the face of pop music.
6. Romance (Fontaines D.C.)
More people should stare at Dalí paintings and write songs in an automatic writing style, pouring the words out of one’s month while barely gasping for air and also putting on the most exaggerated Irish accent the world will ever hear (“Starburster”). Stepping away from the satirical, Modern Life is Rubbish-redux tone they usually take for albums, Fontaines D.C. approached Romance with the intent of playing it in outer space, the biggest possible stadium for the band. On one hand, this record is classic indie rock: the standard five-piece rock band setup sounds f*****g great (“Here’s The Thing,” “Desire”), and the singer Grian Chatten has unique vocal ticks that give him a star quality (obsessed with the way he says “MUA at Caaaahnaahhhgeee hawwwl” in “Bug”). Yet the occasional use of orchestral strings and 80s-inspired synths—most notably in “Romance,” “In The Modern World,” “Sundowner,” and “Horseness is the Whatness”—chills the otherwise fiery record, allowing the band to briefly wallow in more somber moods. Romance is definitely a place, and that place is the gorgeous and proud nation of Ireland…
5. Charm (Clairo)
If “demure” is dictionary.com’s word of the year, then this album should be associated as its musical embodiment. Clairo matured in her sound, stepping out of the confines of her childhood bedroom and into the intimate lounge of a fancy hotel bar. Gentle, sensual, and gorgeous, Charm’s beauty can be found in its embrace of the live band (with some impressive jazz arrangements), Clairo’s soft-spoken vocals, and lyrics that flow like honey. Tracks like “Nomad,” “Sexy to Someone,” and “Add Up My Love” may lyrically yearn for companionship, but they still hold onto a satisfaction in the fact that one’s own company is enough to feel happiness. “Terrapin” and “Juna” are musical standouts, mostly due to Clairo’s brilliant decision to complement the wind/brass instrument with her own vocalizations. (The impressionistic piano solo in “Terrapin” is also a marvel to listen to.) This is one of the year’s most hypnotizing records, and yes, it’s perfectly demure!
4. What Happened to the Beach? (Declan McKenna)
This album can only be described as f*****g cool. I still don’t know how Declan McKenna could transform the sound of an acoustic guitar into a frayed, intentionally just a hair out-of-tune, plucky melody in “WOBBLE,” but it’s such an attention-grabbing, memorable beginning to his most ambitious record yet. All the praises I sang about What Happened to the Beach in my mid-year music review still hold up. Listening to the more ambient-inspired tracks (“Elevator Hum,” “4 More Years”) gives McKenna’s album a sense of fresh air, allowing us to rest after some of the dizzying bursts of energy from the louder tracks (“Nothing Works,” “The Phantom Buzz (Kick In)”). Declan McKenna seems relaxed in this record—perhaps a little exhausted by the world (“It’s an Act”), perhaps a little more embracing of its absurdities (“Mulholland’s Dinner and Wine,” “Mezzanine”)—opting for quieter vocals, heavy bass riffs, and more muted percussion. Each time I finish this album, I want to log off Twitter forever, put on sunglasses, and chill outside in a park somewhere. I love being ClubDeclan. Talk to me when “Mulholland’s Dinner and Wine” magically wins a GRAMMY for Song of the Year.
3. Only God Was Above Us (Vampire Weekend)
I dubbed 2024 “The Year of the Big Return”—a year that practiced patience, investing in my work and social relationships, and of course, big and exciting returns, coupled with many texts that read, “WE’RE SO BACK!” or “VIC NATION WE WIN!” Musically, no other album embodied that mindset more than Vampire Weekend’s Only God Was Above Us. It returned to the band’s baroque pop and rock roots, capturing at some points the melodramatic gloominess of Modern Vampires of the City (2013) (“The Surfer,” “Mary Boone,” “Gen-X Cops”), and the youthful spriteliness of Self-Titled (2008) at others (“Prep School Gangsters,” “Connect,” “Pravda”). Conceived partly as a nostalgia album for a New York-that-never-was, this record’s lyrics lean into the nonsensical. Songs like “The Surfer,” “Capricorn,” and “Mary Boone” attempt to reconstruct memories of 1980-2000s New York that never existed in the first place, as Ezra Koenig’s candid and soft tone laments the feelings of emptiness left by a vital yet missing piece to his identity. “Prep School Gangsters” and “Connect” literally function as Vampire Weekend songs of an alternate universe, refashioning past melodies, lyrics, and instrumental flourishes from their discography into something fresh and unexpected. (Piano solo and “Mansard Roof” drumline interpolation in “Connect” we LOVE you!) Only God Was Above Us feels like a mirror world version of home, but it’s home nonetheless.
2. Imaginal Disk (Magdalena Bay)
I don’t have thoughts whenever I listen to this album; I just roll my eyes back and go into a frenzy. Imaginal Disk makes me want to dance (“Death and Romance,” “Image”), fall in love (“Vampire in the Corner,” “Love Is Everywhere”), press my hand to my cheek and sigh (“Killing Time,” “Watching T.V.”), and float forever in a pool of TV static (“Tunnel Vision,” “Angel on a Satellite”). The record is rooted in synthpop and indie rock, retaining a bubbly, early 2000s energy that refrains from teetering too far into the early 2020s hyperpop aesthetic that got too tired too quickly. The music is forever fresh, the production is sharper than the disk penetrating Mica Tenenbaum’s forehead, and the vocals are a triumph. Imaginal Disk is best enjoyed when it’s on a permanent loop, for it allows the listener to peacefully drift off into the starry void of space.
1. The New Sound (Geordie Greep)
Sometimes the album of the year isn’t a record that has catchy hits, many easily quotable lyrics, and pleasing vocals. Sometimes the true album of the year must go to a piece of music that is unlike anything that ever existed before it. An album whose lyrics leave you with your mouth wide open, having you wonder how on Earth anyone could come up with words so lewd, so neurotic, so outlandish—yet so grounded in a specific cultural moment that produced people to actually think this way. (I’m oversimplifying it, but the lyrical arc from “Blues” to “The Magician” perfectly cracks open, prods, and tears apart the psyche of a man addicted to social media, and it’s insane.) An album whose vocals put on the perfect Frank Sinatra farce—asserting a suave masculinity in the face of such horrid mutterings—while also pushing itself into boyish imperfections (the voice crack in “Terra”) and exposing Greep’s London origins through slips of the accent and overly-theatrical trills (the rolling of the r’s in “Soon your earrings will rrring!” in “Blues”). An album with 27 guest musicians, most of which are percussionists, and a love for Brazilian avant-garde jazz. The best album of the year deserves to go to a piece of art that created a new sound altogether, and no record deserves it other than Geordie Greep’s The New Sound.
Top three songs of 2024:
“Mulholland’s Dinner and Wine” by Declan McKenna
“Image” by Magdalena Bay
“Connect” by Vampire Weekend
Top three covers of 2024:
“Linger” by Royel Otis (originally by The Cranberries)
“This is the Day” by Matt Maltese (originally by The The)
“Brooklyn Baby” by Clairo (originally by Lana Del Rey)
[Honorable Mention: “If You Are But a Dream” by Geordie Greep (originally by Frank Sinatra) solely because he sounds so crazy. How can a 25-year-old sound like a 70 year-old news reporter from the 1930s?]
Three random albums I liked that were also released in 2024:
Romanticism by Hana Vu
Mahashmashana by Father John Misty
Big Ideas by Remi Wolf
Three bands/artists on my watchlist for 2025:
The Orchestra (For Now)
Skydaddy
Cameron Picton/Camera Picture
[Yes, I know that they’re all a part of the same post-punk scene in London, and that they all know each other. Lol.]
Header image edited by author. All albums featured in the header image belong to the respective artists and labels that own it.
Please tell me your favorite albums of the year!
Had no idea Clairo covered Brooklyn Baby --so excited to queue up some of these albums thanks Vic!!!