50-31 | 30-11 | 10-1

30. Brittany Howard – What Now

[Official Site] // [Spotify]

Brittany Howard’s name alone carries enough weight to make Alabama shake. What Now finds the genre-hopper in a surreal dalliance with soul-adjacent stylings, melding her voice into the music in a way that will affect you even if you struggle to get soulful without a lump of peyote percolating in your gut. No matter where in the stereo field her voice erupts from, no matter which spacious avenue of her range she’s occupying, no matter how her vocals are masked, processed, and extensively multi-tracked, they have an urgent and emergent quality that will sound familiar to anyone who has dabbled in the subconscious warp of improvising. Her voice manages all this while effectively emoting a primal ache for love, a history of heartbreak, and a desire for unity, without ever upstaging or even slightly stepping outside the bounds of each track’s atmosphere. The theatrics come natural, and the production shapes every sound and colour into a precisely sculpted whole.

This is further streamlined by the way Howard only writes the best parts of songs, skipping past languid contextualising and slow builds: the first big Musical Moment of the album, wherein Howard falls into a reverie picturing her name falling from the mouth of somebody that might as well embody love itself, comes a mere minute into the album, 20 seconds of which was basically just chimes. Many such moments follow, all neatly tucked within the confines of track lengths trim enough for playlists and encompassing influences that stretch from math rock guitar-picking all the way to a four on the floor bop. It’s miraculous that it works at all, let alone so well that less than 40 minutes of musical scattershot marks one of the most essential listening experiences of the year. –MiloRuggles

29. Lupe Fiasco – Samurai

[Official Site] // [Spotify]

Given his history of label conflicts and his candour on how the industry has shaped the content of his artistry — along with the societal sidelining of hip-hop in favour of more palatable forms of expression — Lupe Fiasco is perhaps the only rapper who could’ve tackled such personal subject matter through a lens as offbeat as this and made it so resonant. Although not originally conceived as a full-length release, this surreal concept album showcases Lupe’s masterful storytelling across a well-crafted and captivatingly original hip-hop album.

Reimagining Amy Winehouse as a battle rapper, the artist uses this premise to explore themes of identity, personal reflection, the suffocating pressures of the music industry and the unfortunate points of overlap between them. The title Samurai, which combines an insightful quote from Winehouse with a more literal interpretation of Lupe’s own sense of duty, creates a delicate intersection between the artist’s own struggles and Winehouse’s unrealised potential. In doing so, he is able to effectively deconstruct the harsh realities of the cultural landscape and the mythologising of the icon’s legacy – respectfully but purposefully – using her as both inspirational figure and tragic heroine.

An eclectic range of vibes, skewing from cloudy to bold and tinged with occasional jazz-hop smoothness, backboard catchy choruses and intricate bars, integrating the form with lyrical content. The combination crafts a release of impressive, understated power that not only reinterprets Winehouse’s legacy, but also redefines Lupe’s place amidst the ever-changing world of hip-hop. The atmospheric range within the comparatively lithe release is broad, but the unifying themes and Lupe’s characteristic nuance allow for an atypical cohesion that channels the pain, frustration and exultant tone effortlessly regardless of the vibe. It’s one of Lupe’s most stirring outings, and certainly one of his most daringly creative. –PumpBoffBag

28. Job For A Cowboy – Moon Healer

[Bandcamp] // [Spotify]

Who could imagine that Job For A Cowboy could be their own perfect successors a whole decade after Sun Eater. Moon Healer is a beefy addition to the maths formula that didn’t need any beef! If anything, the space between the band’s two latest records allows for a better grasp on a record that doesn’t exactly ebb and flow where it’s expected. Moon Healer is the less accessible of the two yin and yang parts to this story and yet, there is flow. Job For A Cowboy more than manages to captivate with their forward-thinking progressions and left field twists. Metal Injection calls this “death metal for nerds” (bless their cotton socks and recycled one-liners), but it’s hard to deny the fabric of truth in that statement. Moon Healer is a success long overdue. Perhaps it’s the added maturity of making fans wait a whole ten fucking years, but Job For A Cowboy have managed to pull off another career-defining album. –Gnocchi

27. Vampire Weekend – Only God Was Above Us

[Bandcamp] // [Spotify]

Vampire Weekend’s initial two albums left me bemused as to why the group attracted such resounding waves of hype and counterhype, composed as they were, to my ears, of decent but rarely exceptional indie pop fare. Later efforts piqued my interest a bit more, with Modern Vampires of the City and Father of the Bride intriguingly seeing highlights of their decade rubbing shoulders with plenty of bland (at best) material. All that is to say: I never expected the band to make an album as good as Only God Was Above Us actually is.

One of this standout record’s key strengths is how comfortable the songs sound even as they impressively stretch the collective’s existing style. It’s easy-going and ambitious at the same time — like that moment in “Ice Cream Piano” in which the lyrics suddenly become a veritable list of Eastern European ethnicities before tying in the age-old association of Transylvania with vampirism — all ridiculous on its face, but also kinda cool in its daring. Likewise, closer “Hope” might be reduced to yet another doomer anthem, but that doesn’t really do justice to how seductive its recurring melody is or to the haunting beauty of its lyrics — all told, it rivals the band’s finest songs to date.

The band here might be trying new things, but they never feel like they’re aiming to be something they’re not — the New York City references run deep and the waft of privilege is unhidden throughout. While the album is a pretty fun listen, and often downright infectious (Maaaaaaaaaaaary Booooooooooooooooooooooooooooone!), it’s ultimately a bleak affair, and while we might not need a bunch of Ivy Leaguers to tell us that everything is terrible, I do find some odd comfort in our areas of agreement. At this point in history, I find it more productive to set aside old debates about whether rich kids can or should make rock music and just acknowledge we’re all in the same proverbial boat on this slowly-flooding planet. Dodge the draft, can’t dodge the war. –Sunnyvale

26. Leprous – Melodies of Atonement

[Bandcamp] // [Spotify]

The year is 2024 and we had lots of fun participating in another rousing rendition of musical discourse on our slice of the Internet. Merriam-Webster’s Word of the Year is ‘polarization’, and we saw this to amusing effect with dueling 4.5 and 0.5 staff reviews for an Anthology That Shalt Not Be Named Lest My Mobile Device Be Spiked by an Older Brother (Jason’s Version).

The same diametric dialoguing seems to have occurred with Melodies of Atonement, Leprous’ eighth studio album. Opeth couldn’t be the only ones to get a “the growls are back” news article around here! Einar Solberg gnarls with gusto on single “Like a Sunken Ship” and — ope! — bamboozles us by having that instance be the only time where the growls are back. But like sprinkling pepper into a bowl of water and tapping the surface with a dish-soaped-up fingertip, opinions are scattered on this record’s highlights. This divergence is what makes Melodies such a compelling listen: while varied in scope and splendor, the end result is a creatively cogent art rock record. Where “Atonement” shines with colorful synths preceding bombastic crescendos paired with Solberg’s resplendent falsetto, there’s breathing room with hypnotic, meditative, bass-driven cuts like the 1-2 punch of “Limbo” and “Faceless”. Meanwhile, Baard Kolstad’s drumming on “I Hear the Sirens”, the contemplative “Starlight”, and the multi-layered finale “Unfree My Soul” is magnificent, even if it’s nigh impossible for the Norwegian quintet to write a better closer than “The Sky Is Red”. Tolerance for some of the vocal (and lyrical) risks the perpetually-theatrical Solberg takes may vary, but when it comes to cultivating atmosphere through repetition, Melodies of Atonement is a challenging, but ultimately mesmerizing, collection.

25. Billie Eilish – Hit Me Hard and Soft

[Official Site] // [Spotify]

Billie’s third outing is as brilliantly murky as its cover art. Rather than (understandably) falling further into the sort of self-mythologizing that may have kept onlookers at bay on her first two albums, Billie instead opts for a refreshing level of both sonic and narrative curiosity that blurs the edges of labels that she had seemingly accompanied her since day one. While this initially struck me – both hardly and softly – as the ten tracks on offer lacking a clear through-line or thesis, repeated listens have since opened my mind to just how much legwork is done here to make the Billie Eilish Cinematic Universe include really whatever the hell she decides. “L’AMOUR DE MA VIE” affectionately smashes together the best ideas that Lorde didn’t have for Solar Power and a fried-out MySpace-core dance outro with the elegance of a toddler holding an action figure in each hand. “CHIHIRO” expertly weaves together, like, six different genres to create a breathtaking epic that is genuinely overwhelming. “BIRDS OF A FEATHER” is one of the year’s most popular (and best!) songs thanks, in no small part, to Billie removing all those baggy Adam Sandler clothes to reveal her beating heart against turn-of-the-Millennium-type pop rock stylings. The simple synth in its outro is devastating in all the right ways.

The ensuing months of HIT ME HARD AND SOFT‘s release have had rumors swirl of an impending part-two on the way. Maybe Billie’s Nation is indeed coming, but I chalk this phantom anticipation down simply to the fact that we aren’t used to her being this fun, succinct, and, frankly, this exciting — of course folks don’t want this creative gravy train to end! While I would happily take seconds, I am just as happy pressing play again. –Odal

24. Ceres – MAGIC MOUNTAIN (1996 – 2022)

[Bandcamp] // [Spotify]

MAGIC MOUNTAIN (1996 – 2022) is one of the more complicated albums I’ve tried to describe in a while. Musically, it’s pretty straight forward: a blend of indie-rock emo, lo-fi atmospheric bedroom pop-esque moments, and a dash of ear-wormy hooks throughout. I don’t have an issue nailing down the sound of Ceres, although there is a lot to digest in their songwriting. No, the issue I have is trying to grasp at the raw expression throughout the record. It’s simultaneously cathartic and tranquil; abrasive and beautiful; distraught and triumphant.

But that’s the beauty of it, isn’t it? MAGIC MOUNTAIN is relatable, for better or for worse, in all walks of life. From the soaring highs to the crushing lows, Ceres illustrates a personal narrative that resonates musically and emotionally. Whether the contemplative bookends or the energetic tracks of “LCD” or “666”, Ceres’ dynamic songwriting is shown throughout MAGIC MOUNTAIN and their ability to craft both vibrant jams and slow-burning numbers is on full display. However, it takes time to really appreciate everything within the album. With 25 songs and just over an hour worth of material, it’s no easy feat to sit and digest everything in just one listen. Yet as I sit here numerous listens later, the magic of MAGIC MOUNTAIN is still revealing itself with each replay. Even with its daunting length, every time “viv” comes to a close I look forward to the next time I get to hear “supermassive”. The musical motifs of familiar melodies or passionate chord progressions always bring me back, and each listen shows another aspect. It’s a shame this isn’t higher, but for those who haven’t yet heard it, do yourself a favor and let Ceres take you up the MAGIC MOUNTAIN. –tyman128

23. The Story So Far – I Want to Disappear

[Bandcamp] // [Spotify]

Don’t fault yourself for assuming that The Story So Far would end with a whimper, fading wordlessly into the forest following their 2018 triumph Proper Dose. Instead, let yourself be thankful that they returned without missing a beat. The group’s fifth full-length sees them wrestling with lineup changes, attachment wounds, and most notably of all, the tragic death of vocalist Parker Cannon’s father. His ghost haunts the bulk of the tracklist, with Cannon’s grief-stricken rage and devastation catapulting tracks like opener “All This Time”, single “Letterman”, and the gut-wrenching “Keep You Around” into the emotional stratosphere. That being said, it’s the acoustic ballad “White Shores”, with its anguished cries of “Take me with you now / Beyond the veil on white shores” that truly encapsulates both the emotional impact of I Want to Disappear and the continued progression of The Story So Far’s musical vision. They’re still able to serve up their trademark bangers and make them sound fresh (“Watch You Go”, “Nothing to Say”), while the sum of the album’s parts indicates a more sophisticated and resonant product, both sonically and lyrically. –YoYoMancuso

22. Adrianne Lenker – Bright Future

[Bandcamp] // [Spotify]

Bright Future succeeds, not via the unfuckedwith Pink Moon minimalism of 2020’s songs, but through bold, unabashed generosity. The smattering of string accompaniments, layered vocals and Americana flourishes found here are dosed out decidedly unsparingly. Witness scrapbooks, tea cosies and home cooked stew hurled every which way, Adrianne’s craft no longer one of secluded spindly things, but of vibrance and sharing. It’s warm and rustic and communal, a freshly baked apple pie, comforting in the extreme, notwithstanding the regularly brutal lyrical musings tucked within. Searching for god in smoke trails, finding unity in grief, and remembering the friends we used to know; it’s all here, stored snuggly in these soft cotton sing songs.

It’s both a rapturous case study on contrast – both within, as well as between, albums – and an inspiring exemplar of artistic evolution — of how to carry the essence of the self throughout one’s lifelong musical tapestry. Does it join songs as one of the best folk records of the last 20 years? Uh, no. But does it cement Lenker as one of the most essential singer-songwriters of her generation? Absolutely. Bright Future indeed. –AsleepInTheBack

21. Uboa – Impossible Light

[Bandcamp] // [Spotify]

Whatever you could ask of a healing record, Impossible Light offers in the most violent, scouring sense — both in that it paves the way for something disarmingly cleansing with a whole lot of punishing fucking noise, and in painfully specific circumstances wherein Uboa (aka Xandra Metcalfe) reckons with the tumult of her gender transition, fractious mental health, and the years in the wake of the suicide attempt that brought us her 2019 breakthrough, The Origin of My Depression. It’s by no means the only record we’ve acclaimed recently that wrests deep affirmation from deep trauma — see yeule’s Softscars or Chelsea Wolfe’s She Reaches Out to She… — and, much like those albums, it’s most affecting when it strips itself down and surrenders to beauty like the shell of a human exhausted in the face of a higher power.

These moments are so unnervingly fragile that the album’s violence plays almost as a retreat from them, its harshest outpourings of noise an echo as much of rage and pain as fear of its own vulnerability. Take the coda of “Sleep Hygiene”, a track that hits an apocalyptic fallout only to give way to sparse acoustic strumming over a cushion of white noise and then, bleaker still, over nothing at all. The pang of destitution I felt as the soundscape cuts out and the guitar is left unaccompanied for the final few seconds was so pronounced that I yearned for the noise — any noise, however unpleasant — to return and wash it away. It’s hardly an isolated case; Metcalfe frequently reminds us how easily silence can weigh heavier than clamour, hence the bulk of Impossible Light is at pains to drown out the discomfort of introspection, to howl itself away from the torment of rational thought and self-confrontation. For all its horror and abrasion, the true terror comes when it calms down enough to frame that monstrosity as a contrast to tenderness.

Traditionally, such moments as these — of finding oneself naked in the face of the sublime, of clinging onto one’s purity to whatever extent one recognises oneself as pure — are best left as short glimpses. They speak to emotional truths beyond what most art can convincingly literalise; Metcalfe is wise to lean on suggestion and let her audience manifest these for themselves. The pinpricks of light she teases on “Sleep Hygiene” and the preceding “Weaponised Dysphoria” speak volumes in the wake of the scorched earth she charts across the album’s middle third, but this is no preparation for the incandescent knockout she delivers on the finale “Impossible Light / Golden Flower”. Backed by a keynote performance from powerhouse vocalist Lane Shi Otayonii, Metcalfe ushers in the devastating climax she had all but convinced us to abandon any hope of hearing, a thunderous rapture of consonance that single-handedly repositions the album from a harrowing portrait of struggle to a triumph so blinding one can no longer view it through the same eyes. It is no mere glimpse; it embodies and sustains an otherwise unconceivable extreme and is one of the most empowering tracks of this year, or any.

Calling this record a ‘year essential’ is all well and accurate, but it’s by the by for something so clearly positioned to make such a transformative impact on an individual level: for some, this will have been one of those desperately finite records that their personal journey all but demands they stumble upon. Even for the rest of us, the emotional magnitude of this thing is just too flooring to pass by. –JohnnyoftheWell

20. Frail Body – Artificial Bouquet

[Bandcamp] // [Spotify]

Artificial Bouquet is fury lacking restraint. Is it perfect? No. The sheer aesthetic here is a climb up a hill, slipping and falling. There’s two steps forward and one step back — but never an inkling that Frail Body will ever give up on bringing calamitic energy into fruitful, frenetic climes. Feedback rings through the space between “Scaffolding” and “Berth”. A mess of beautiful noise and ideas that crash together like waves in a storm. Forget ‘aesthetic;’ Artificial Bouquet is anti-aesthetic in the best possible way. Even when Artificial Bouquet becomes introspective, minimal and downright gentle (compared to the hardcore, screamo, blackened cluster-cake it is) Frail Body still convey feeling. Artificial Bouquet is everything you would want from this scene and more. One can only hope that this little band continues to pave the way into the future, innovating on their own soundscapes as they go. –Gnocchi

19. Alcest – Les Chants de l’Aurore

[Bandcamp] // [Spotify]

To be perfectly clear, I don’t think Alcest have crafted the best album of the year. It would be even up for discussion if Les Chants de l’Aurore is their best album to date. But if I were to be completely honest with you, nothing has punched a hole through my heart like “L’Envol” did when it was unleashed upon the world as the herald of Neige and Winterhalter’s latest piece of work. From the moment the song embraces my soul like a celestial blizzard, in a language that I don’t even understand, there is not a single moment in those eight minutes where my feet are touching the ground. By the time the first chorus kicks in I can see my corporeal prison below getting smaller and smaller. From there, it all becomes a blissful dream, an out of body experience, which has been visually and beautifully represented by the video that accompanies the song. I become a swan, a dragon, a North Korean rocket, I have no clear conscience of shape and purpose — all I know is that I don’t belong to this world anymore, and that for those eight beaming minutes, nothing will ever reach me.

This is a rare occurrence these days. So many years of listening to music, writing music, recording music, analyzing, dissecting and criticizing music have eaten much of my ability to perceive it as the version of me, the one who hadn’t been around for more than a decade roaming this world, that couldn’t understand the way my senses would stir when a kick-drum would pound my chest or a certain melody raised my skin. It felt otherworldly, in the same way that sometimes I feel like Neige doesn’t belong to this world. I may have centered this homage to Alcest’s latest around one single song, but there’s so much more to unveil in Les Chants de l’Aurore — so much that words would run for longer than they should, so I hope these few lines are enough to convey my sheer admiration for the work of Neige and Winterhalter. And if there’s any of that innocence left in you, too, consider chopping up your critical thinking for a moment and let it breach your defenses. You’ll be able to tell the difference. –Dewinged

18. Kendrick Lamar – GNX

[Official Site] // [Spotify]

In 2024, in the wake of a rap beef that I don’t want or need to recount to any of you, Kendrick Lamar’s already-lucrative commercial stocks went gangbusters, and it would seem that either the fire in his belly or the modest mountain of greenbacks on the table was enough to accelerate his muse into curiously expedient action.

Why should we care about Executive Era Kendrick Lamar, and what exactly should we care about? Should we be proud that hip-hop’s most critically-acclaimed figurehead inspired somebody to briefly immortalise him through the magic of mural, and consequently share in his anger that an acolyte of Banksy rudely defaced it? Are we fit enough to follow him on this purported Victory Lap as he rises above such hefty trials and tribulations? Should we be concerned that Azchike’s verse on “peekaboo” awkwardly places him in the same room as an avowed sex addict as he hits it from the back and slides his thumb into God-knows-where?

Such pertinent questions aren’t really answered by GNX, and it works heavily in its favour: his most scaled-down and minimalistic album is also arguably his most compelling, entertaining, and riskiest since 2015’s To Pimp a Butterfly. It may not seem such, particularly when held against the squint-eyed, girthier Mr. Morale, but the lightening of tone and atmosphere here forms a fearless statement: not only about Lamar’s craft and self-image, but about the important role he occupies within the modern rap game. Much like the vitriol that has fuelled Kendrick’s musical headshots this year, every track on GNX is laser-precise and offers the eminent multi-faceted self-awareness that has accented his finest records thus far. It’s a generously oiled engine of sharp, simple beats saturated with memorable hooks and creative flows; the record whittles down Kenny’s signature style so effectively that the final product leaves little but scorch marks and dust in its rattling wake.

As such, GNX holds a far greater appeal to fans who feel that consuming his art had begun to feel like doing your homework, many of whom have publicly documented their feelings as they partake in a parasocial enterprise exhausting enough to make even the most fervent Swiftie’s eyes roll wildly in their pale sockets. It’s great hip-hop, simple and plain, hard-coded with a confluence of recognisable influences that evoke the spirit of rappers both classic and modern, providing a timely reminder that Kendrick Lamar can be both deeply personal and universally engaging without the requirement of answering all of the questions he raises. This is a fortunate turn, as these lines of inquiry are starting to accrue knots. How many flowers need to be laid on your doorstep before you realise that you won the public over fucking yonks ago? How much ire need a mural defaced, a thoughtless comment, or an idle retweet provoke in somebody so spiritually studied? Beats me. What I do know is that Kendrick Lamar, the man who tore the Big Three Theory to shreds, whose arms are overflowing with accolades that he insists he deserves, will play the Superbowl LIX halftime show in 2025. I won’t pretend I’m not confused about what exactly is on the line here. I also won’t pretend I’m not excited. –MiloRuggles x PumpBoffBag

17. Mach-Hommy – #RICHAXXHAITIAN

[Official Site] // [Spotify]

Mach-Hommy is an absolute machine of a rapper and knows it: if you want to see him perform this very masterpiece on two turntables and a mic at Lincoln Hall in New York City, you’re paying $300 a pop, and that’s face value. Unconscionable, but so are the rapping, production, and overall musical instincts on display on this year’s #RICHAXXHAITIAN. The best moments on the album produce grunts and giggles from the listener, such as the hilarious “I’m not no local yokel” or the ominous “just leave the trunk beside the tarp” on jazz-piano showcase “SONJE”, which my girlfriend tells me means “REMEMBER”, or the endless verbal baton-passing between Mach and Roc Marciano on “ANTONOMASIA”, which Google tells me means the substituting of an epithet for a proper name. The flows glorious and the undergirding Haitian pride both gleeful and deadly serious, #RICHAXXHAITIAN sons lesser rappers into submission. $300? Why not $400? Man’s got kids to feed. –robertsona

16. SUMAC – The Healer

[Bandcamp] // [Spotify]

In a year that even I, fond of shower and clean of breath, can only admit has been a stunner for heavy music, no act is worthier of the metal crown than SUMAC. How does Aaron Turner do it? The man has long held a reputation for bellowing like the maw of a great mountain, but at some point in his post-ISIS exodus, in his communion with free improv noise magus Keiji Haino, through the chemistry he’s cultivated with drummer Nick Yacyshyn and bassist Brian Cook, he seemingly hit on some eldritch secret that wrenched the plates of the earth from their deadlock and bound them to gnash, to groan and to shatter in with his band’s every move. Long-term adherents of SUMAC and their in-laws (Old Man Gloom, Russian Circles, These Arms Are Snakes, Baptists, and of course ISIS) can clink glasses and debate the wheres and whens of this ascension, but the bottom line is that The Healer sees all three of its contributors operating at a peak, cleaving and splintering their way through dynamic shifts so convoluted that any traditional peak-valley traversal is overridden by what is better described as a primordial juggle.

The appeal here isn’t entirely abstract — you could pitch “Yellow Dawn” and “The Stone’s Turn” thunderous climaxes to anyone still lounging at atmosludge base camp — but it does ultimately rest on being able to make out whatever mystical guiding force lurks behind, say, the endless oblique feinting and droning of labyrinthine opener “World of Light” (that’s 25 minutes you’d better be ready to commit to), or whatever cavern-rending, tonality-shredding vortex of fuck opens up in the backend of “New Rites”. These points simply demand the arousal of your imagination, and you’ll find significant hurdles here otherwise. The Healer heaves with an air of the beyond, of the below — and if it quite rightly makes a challenge of meeting on its own, gargantuan terms, then you’ll find it a healthy reminder of why, once in a while, the larger-than-life should command our faith. –JohnnyoftheWell

15. Örnatorpet – Fordomdags

[Bandcamp] // [Spotify]

Honestly, I didn’t even dare to hope that my personal favorite could make it onto such a strong list, and the fact that it received such a high position brings me an indescribable amount of joy. While the dungeon synth genre occasionally makes an appearance on the site, it still represents a rather niche corner of underground (ambient) music.

Dungeon synth is a true escapist’s paradise, deeply interwoven with a love for fantasy, history, mysticism, and ambient and medieval music. From this perspective, Swedish artist Örnatorpet’s Fordomdags is an ideal dungeon synth album because it beautifully captures the genre’s diversity and richness. Right from the opening track, “Fordom i sagor om trolldomskult”, the album feels like the soundtrack to a darker-toned fairy tale, with each song resembling a different chapter in a magical and thrilling story. I would particularly highlight the tracks “Af skönare dar ett minne” for its wonderfully dreamlike atmosphere (in the vein of old-school dungeon synth acts like Secret Stairways) and “Bland stigar fördolda” as a fantastic example of how the medieval ambient style still thrives (this is for the Fief fans). I warmly recommend Fordomdags to both new and longtime fans of the genre — it was the perfect way to crown the year for me! –garas

14. Poppy – Negative Spaces

[Bandcamp] // [Spotify]

There’s nothing really that groundbreaking about Negative Spaces. It’s a pretty straightforward album with generic metalcore songwriting, catchy choruses sprinkled throughout, and polished production thanks to Jordan Fish. Nothing about the album screams “ground-breaking,” so why is it even up here?

Because Poppy is fun.

Poppy has always been a captivating artist, known initially for her interesting hyper pop style in her earlier years followed by her unique blend of pop and metal on I Disagree. However, Negative Spaces is her most mature and complete sounding album to date, diving deeper into her metal songwriting with more emphasis on heavier core elements. Although tracks like “crystallize” and some of the interludes maintain a bit of her poppy-er compositions, much of the record shows a more aggressive side. From the almost octane-core heaters “have you had enough?” and “new way out” to the upbeat, industrial-tinged “push go” to the chaotic metalcore frenzy of “the center’s falling out”, Poppy seems to have finally found her footing in the realm of metalcore.

Now, I understand that metalcore isn’t exactly the most loved by everyone, so what’s the sell here? Poppy. Her voice throughout Negative Spaces absolutely soars. Whether it’s her shrill screams on “they’re all around us” or subdued melodies in the interlude “yesterday”, Poppy’s vocals drive the entire record all the way throughout. Quite simply, Poppy herself is what makes this record so good. Sure, Jordan Fish’s production is spot on and the instrumentation is catchy, but it would be just another metalcore-tinged album if it weren’t for Poppy. And that alone makes Negative Spaces one of the best, most entertaining albums this year. –tyman128

13. A Place For Owls – how we dig in the earth

[Bandcamp] // [Spotify]

If you’re just joining us for this countdown, welcome to sputnikmusic.com. The UI hasn’t been updated since 2006. Want to make an account? Sorry, the site got hacked two years ago and that’s now been rendered impossible. You may be asking yourself, “Why would anyone still be using this site?” The answer to that question is likely different for all of our users, but for me, I log on every day because there’s always the possibility that I’ll discover a band like A Place For Owls.

This Denver emo quintet combs through the minutiae of life to uncover simple joys and profound heartbreak alike on their poignant sophomore effort, darting anxiously between traumatic hospital visits, smoke breaks, haunted houses, and the voice aching to be heard beneath the soil, threatening to surface at any moment, while the earth still sleeps. Effortlessly switching gears between bucolic acoustic ballads (“huston lake”), 5th-wave emo barnburners (“broken open seed”, “a tattoo of a candle”), and solemn, brass-tinged dirges (“what i have to say”), A Place For Owls may not excel at subtlety, but they make up for it with the humble sincerity of their lyrics, the inviting warmth of their guitar tones, and the near guarantee that the album’s most infectious cuts will remain stuck in your head for days on end. As we all brace ourselves for another new year, it’s tempting to jump to the most pessimistic possible conclusion. Will the nukes finally be launched? Will sputnikmusic cease to exist? Will all those passwords of mine that got exposed in data breaches finally be used for some nefarious aim? Amidst our species-wide tendency to project the worst case scenario, how we dig in the earth offers a balm to our burn: find your friends and hold them close. –YoYoMancuso

12. Knocked Loose – You Won’t Go Before You’re Supposed To

[Bandcamp] // [Spotify]

“By the third or fourth ‘JUNT’ from the guitars my son was in tears […] and quite frankly I think the Kimmel show should make a formal apology.”

2024 brought unexpected (good!) tidings for our Kentucky fried skronkers. Grammy nomination bagged, national television appearance smashed, and Facebook backlash generated (see above), they’ve played their flavour of mosh to a far larger stage than the “Arf Arf”s of 2016 ever forecasted. They’re the little-band-that-could story of the year that I’m most thrilled by, their gristly blend of thicc grooves and macabre thematics leaving more parents aghast than ever before.

And, obviously, my inner gatekeeper is pissed. How dare more people listen to the band that I like! My band is my band not your band!! It’s a dumb train of thought, though. In an era where rock and metal have tumbled down the stairs of public consciousness, nineties Grunge and noughties Nu-Metal now both distant memories, it’s reassuring to see loud, unruly things return to the fore once more. Witnessing Knocked Loose hurl themselves quite this convincingly into the limelight — not through compromise, via genre-splicing gimmickry (Sleep Token) or treating their chuggas as window dressing (Bring Me The Horizon), but with genuine sweat, blood and skronk — has been a treat to behold. Whether their fifteen minutes of fame will be anything more than that remains to be seen, but their place within the heart of this meat-addled hardcore-head has been firmly established. For those who feel the same, say it with me: they won’t go before they’re supposed to. –AsleepInTheBack

11. Blood Incantation – Absolute Elsewhere

[Bandcamp] // [Spotify]

Blood Incantation were always hinting at becoming a full-on prog metal outfit. The short tracklists (organized as LP ‘sides’, at least in the case of Hidden History of the Human Race), the epic song lengths, and the insistence on analog recording all suggest a desire to evoke the vibes of ’70s progressive rock — just with a death metal twist, of course. Well, with Absolute Elsewhere, they finally fulfilled that vision to its full extent. In classic Thick as a Brick fashion, the record has been divided up into two massive epics — which, in turn, have each been divided up into three distinct movements. Aside from the usual tech/prog-death fury, you’ll find everything from Pink Floydian psych passages to Tangerine Dream-esque electronic soundscapes (provided by Thorsten Quaeschning himself!) to Rush-influenced melodic prog sections. But what makes Absolute Elsewhere so compelling is that none of these stylistic digressions feel out of place, nor do they make for a disjointed experience. Rather, they exist to expand the borders of Blood Incantation’s established ‘cosmic death metal’ sound, as well as taking old prog rock tropes and giving them a fresh new spin. And for those who just want to hear the death metal side of Blood Incantation: don’t worry, it’s still in there… just toned down a bit. And hey — if that toning down is in the service of a more adventurous and expansive sound, I’m here for it. –Koris

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