So I guess the first thing I want to ask is: Are you OK? I hope you’re OK.
But it’s fine if you’re not. I’m not. It was true what I said in my last post, that I was writing it as much for myself as anyone else. I was in a bad place then. I’m not in a good place now. And that’s normal. It’s scary out there. Dark, bleak. We’re grieving what we’ve lost, and terrified of what’s to come. I don’t believe it’s hopeless, but that’s a tough thing to see sometimes — a tough thing to hold onto. Because it will get worse before it gets better, and some of us — God knows who, could be me, could be you — aren’t going to make it to the sunrise. The light is faint and hard to reach for.
I used to sometimes talk about politics in the year-end retrospectives, on my old site, in th years when I felt like I had no choice. I didn’t like doing it, so I stopped. Just kept these pieces focused on the year in movies, or music, or whatever. It was all so despairing, and I never really knew how to transition from the suffering and hardship into the comparatively inconsequential things I write about.
I almost did the same thing again this year. But I realized I couldn’t, not without turning the circumstances into the elephant in the room — without this little list becoming the kind of too-bright smile you put on when things are desperately wrong and you’re to hide it and you know you’re failing. Also: I think, to an extent, it is on theme.
I want to say two things that have become daily mantras for me — that have done the most to get me into a more functional headspace.
The first I’ve already said, but I really want to ensure I make a point of it — because when it comes to self-care, knowing something academically is not the same thing as internalizing it. You absolutely must know, in your heart, that it is OK not to be OK right now. Lots of us aren’t. You’re anxious, you’re depressed, sad, scared, whatever — and all of those emotions are very understandable responses to what’s happened. It’s worse for some of us than others, and those of us who have medically diagnosed mental health conditions — which I do, for the record — have been triggered very badly. But those feelings are not irrational. They are not a signal that you are broken — nor are they a condition that is now inherent to you. It’s human to feel bad right now — it’s feeling completely fine that would be strange. It’s painful, and it’s going to take time, but know that this is a time when misery has a lot of company. You are not alone in this — very, very far from it.
The second thing pertains to this whole project, this thing I’m doing right now, writing this, about arts and entertainment when we all have much bigger things on our minds. I’ve been on social media far too much since all this happened; I’ve seen the latest genre of post — the people in replies to the guy telling jokes or sharing pictures of his dog criticizing him for meeting the moment too lightly. I understand where it comes from; believe me, I do. It’s also dead wrong.
It’s been said so much at this point it’s now a cliche: The first rule of fascism is don’t comply in advance. What I’m about to say I can’t claim as my own insight, though my memory fails as to who originated it. At some point over the last weeks, I saw someone respond to the aforementioned criticism with a statement that has stuck with me ever since: Letting them steal your joy is complying in advance.
Right now, we absolutely need people to lead the fight — people with the bandwidth and the talents necessary to dive into the nitty-gritty of all this, report the truth, develop a strategy, spearhead whatever we’re going to have to muster to save each other from this. The people most targeted by this administration, the ones suffering the most immediately and acutely, are going to need that. Do you know what else they’re going to need? A space to be a human being for a while. Somewhere they don’t have to think about how much they’re hurting. They need to talk about movies and music and sports and recenter themselves in the things that make life worth living, that bring them joy.
I know that from experience. Cards on the table: Very shortly after I posted that election-night essay on here, I lapsed into the absolute worst mental health crisis of my entire life. You’re just going to have to take my word for it when I say that bar was not low. I lost months. I was on the edge of a panic attack all day every day for entire weeks in December; January, I was better but felt like I was walking on the edge of a knife all the time, like one little push was all it would take. It was only internalizing what I said earlier — that it’s OK not to be OK — that helped me transition into something that feels more normal. In the midst of all that, with my mind in ruins and my guts on fire, I was glad for the people who were fighting — but it was also sort of difficult to talk to them? Because it dragged all my deepest fears to the forefront of my mind and kept me in that hell. Do you want to know what really helped me get better? What really gave me the strength to get through the day?
Friggin’ improv comedy.
I spent the last two months getting really into improv comedy. Finally got that Dropout subscription I’d been mulling for a while (highly recommended, FYI). At my worst, movies and music didn’t really penetrate, but for whatever reason, that did. It’s almost a ritual now. I wake up, shower, eat breakfast, and then I watch an episode of something on Dropout. It’s the silliest stuff in the world — but it’s ended up meaning a lot to me, and I’m so profoundly grateful it exists and that people continue to make it even though we’re all scared to death right now.
We need this stuff, man, every bit as much as we need to fight. So yeah — I’m doing the music list this year, and I’m going to do the year in movies once I finish up my watchlist; I’ll do the Oscar predictions if I don’t forget (sue me, it happens). I’m going to start writing again once I get my next project sufficiently planned out (thank God I finished the most recent novel in October; that sure would have been a mess). I’m really not much of a fighter, I’m certainly not a leader, it’s going to take me time to figure out what I can do concretely to help, but this, this I can do, and I’m going to keep doing it for as long as I’m able.
Moving right along: music!
I said last year that I’d sort of stopped believing in good years and bad years for music — at this point, it’s such a democratized art form that if I’m not enjoying the current landscape it’s just because I’m not digging deep enough. I realized that, to me, a good year simply meant all the artists I already listened to nailed it and I didn’t have to venture out of my comfort zone to fill the gap.
Of course, now that I’ve learned how to venture out of my comfort zone, at least a little bit, those conditions can now exist simultaneously. Which is to say that if I believed in good and bad years in music, I would consider this year a very good one.
I don’t know, I think I might have hit critical mass in my music nerdery in 2024. In a very short period of time, I went from top ten lists with entries I didn’t even like that much to this, the first year where I actually started to ask myself if I should expand to twenty. I ultimately decided that I’m still not far along to get away with that just yet — but that I even considered it is still a testament. There came a point in the last month or so when I counted out my ten and realized I had just cut The Cure’s new one, and that made me actively afraid for my safety.
The artists that I’m already a fan of mostly killed it this year. The top two albums on this year’s list are both by bands I’ve been trying to get into for years now who finally pulled me into their corner, which is very exciting. There’s also a healthy number of new discoveries — to me, anyway — on here. It’s just a really great balance, and for the first time since I started tracking my campaign to become a music nerd (which I absolutely have not anywhere near pulled off yet) I don’t really have any serious reservations about any of these. Not only that, but there are a few albums I sincerely regret that I couldn’t make room for this year.
So we’ll start with those honorable mentions. In more or less the order they were cut, they are: St. Vincent, “All Born Screaming” (I actually don’t consider it a disappointment; I just don’t think I’m quite as taken with it as everyone else — I love it through “Big Time Nothing,” but then it kind of sputters for me); Soft Play, “Heavy Jelly” (this is right on the edge of being too heavy for me, but a faithful adherent of my firm belief that punk music is best when it’s funny); Kim Deal, “Nobody Loves You More” (Kim Deal went solo and decided she was going to try to make a…Jimmy Buffett album? Anyway, this one’s been growing on me, so put a pin in it, I guess); The Smile, “Cutouts” and “Wall of Eyes” (they’re great, but I kind of want Radiohead back, and also I’m a little bit over bands doing two albums a year, it’s so vanishingly rare that they actually feel like two distinct pieces); and, as previously stated, The Cure, “Songs of a Lost World” (the downside of being a legacy band is that anything you make exists in the shadow of your own work — this is an album to make any other band jealous, and yet I found it also didn’t scratch any itches that “Disintegration” doesn’t already).
Now for the list proper.
10. Los Campesinos!, “All Hell”
New to these guys! Had never heard of them before they started showing up on some best-of lists at the end of the year. This goes without saying, given the caliber of the albums I just listed, but I had a heck of a time deciding what was going to round out this year’s list. My main holdup, I think, may have been that “All Hell” is not exactly reinventing the wheel — if you listened to the pop-punk/emo of the aughts, you won’t really encounter any new ideas here. But there’s an earthiness to the production that combines with a core sincerity and overall intelligence to put a real ache somewhere in the heart of this, and that’s an atmosphere I’ve never really gotten out of music like this. “All Hell” is timely, of its moment, an “album we need right now” kind of thing, and it isn’t impressed with itself for that. If I had to describe it, I would say it’s “if someone had taught the bands I loved in high school how to read,” which is an M.O. I have no trouble getting behind.
9. English Teacher, “This Could Be Texas”
Punk rock attitude in music that is not punk is one of the easiest ways to get me on board with a new band, and honestly, I could probably just end it right there. Part of me wants to, because English Teacher is a “vibes-only” sort of band that I’m also afraid would be cheapened by thinking about it too much. Combining that “too cool for school” sort of personality with composition that’s actually extremely intricate is an extraordinary balancing act and I can only bow my head in respect to anyone with the skill to pull it off effortlessly. It feels like this whole album is rolling its eyes at you, and somehow that ends up being the coolest thing in the universe. Like, we are not worthy.
8. Arooj Aftab, “Night Reign”
Look, man, it’s like I’ve said over and over doing these lists — I have no special expertise in this subject, I’m just some guy, I’m not even qualified to talk about the stupid stuff I put on here, much less a deep core music nerd genre like jazz. You want me to go over this with a fine-toothed comb? I can’t. You want me to tell you that this is beautiful, that Arooj Aftab’s voice is beautiful, and that I somehow know exactly what every single one of these songs is about despite the fact that I don’t speak the language half of them are in? That I can do. That I can do happily.
7. Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, “Wild God”
I like Nick Cave best in two modes — his brutal early career rockers like “Thirsty Dog,” and when he’s in the “Abattoir Blues/Lyre of Orpheus” zone. I think the former have been permanently put to bed at this point, but it’s wonderful to hear him drifting back into the latter with “Wild God.” Dark Poet Nick Cave is great, obviously, and that guy is still in here — this feels like a fusion of old and new. I’m also not sure I could’ve taken many more albums of nothing but that, so it comes as some relief to know he can still reach through the stereo and grab you when he wants to. This is a grand epic, in effect if not in length, Cave stepping up to the microphone and taking everyone to church. Now’s the time to place your bets on how many episodes of prestige TV shows are going to head to credits on “Conversion” in 2025. Anyway, he should start making music videos again; he keeps screwing up my aesthetic on here.
6. Kendrick Lamar, “GNX”
I’m mad that this album exists, because I almost made it through the year without feeling like I had to weigh in on the Kendrick Lamar/Drake beef. In general, I’m happiest when I know as little as possible about the personal lives of the people who make the stuff I like, but I don’t mind a good rap beef when it isn’t about something that matters. This one made it about two diss tracks in before it got to sincere allegations of pedophilia and openly hoping one of the participants would literally die. And I get it, Drake is probably not a good dude and definitely has a lot of suspect associations, but I don’t know, man, that’s not an allegation I’m comfortable saddling anybody with when no accusers have come forward? And even if it’s true, I feel like someone being a predator would demand a more serious response than “trying to strike a chord, and it’s probably A Minooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.” Even though that line is objectively pretty funny, and a lot of this was objectively pretty funny, and I regret to inform you that despite my misgivings, the sheer overkill of Kendrick’s victory in this fight only becomes funnier the longer it continues (I was just informed that the Super Bowl halftime show is eligible for an Emmy!). Ahem. All this to say, new Kendrick Lamar albums usually have at least a top three spot on this list locked down from the second they drop. The reason “GNX” doesn’t is that I really don’t care about his beefs, and so much of this album is about his beefs. Oh, Lil Wayne didn’t call to congratulate you about the Super Bowl spot? This is definitely an extremely sympathetic problem to me. But of course, Kendrick is this super self-conscious, introspective guy, so even the BS is really interesting in his hands. The sense I get is this: Fame, and being told he’s the greatest rapper of all time a hundred times a day by dozens of very respectable people, has DEFINITELY gone to Kendrick Lamar’s head — but he is that vanishingly rare celebrity who knows it’s gone to his head and doesn’t like that about himself. As usual, “GNX” is much more as a whole-album experience than it is as a series of individual tracks — because you’ll get a savage, danceable takedown of the haters, and then he’ll balance it out with a song where God tells him he needs to sit down and shut up already. And as much as I try to resist, it’s just such a compelling dichotomy — obviously, I wrote more about this album than any of the others on this list. Add to that the fact that the guy is still working with the best producers in the business, and you’ve got another record that somehow turns all of its vices into virtues.
5. Jack White, “No Name”
THANK GOD. Jack White heard the pleas of his people and descended from the mountaintop to answer them. Finally, he’s delivered the sick, face-melting rock n’ roll record for which we have so pitifully beseeched him. And finally, it’s actually really good the whole way through instead of petering out after five tracks. I’m sorry, I’ve actually genuinely liked his last couple albums, but this is like I was stranded in the desert with nothing but a bunch of MRE packets and now I’m being served a gourmet dinner; I had forgotten what I was missing. Anyway, I don’t have much to say about this; very little needs to be said. I even like the songs everyone else hates (“Archbishop Harold Holmes” is a stone-cold banger, Jack White is never better than when he’s in southern televangelist mode, what’s wrong with you people?). Basically the seventh White Stripes album.
4. Mannequin Pussy, “I Got Heaven”
I have this problem where every time I see a really stupid band name I can’t resist checking them out immediately. No one could possibly have foreseen this, but…sometimes that results in a year-end list where it’s difficult for me to at least keep the written portion SFW, as is my wont. The title track is by far my favorite on the album, and one of my favorite songs of 2024 more generally, but that is not the music video I posted above, because even on a list that contains the video for “squabble up” I feel like I’ve got to draw the line somewhere. What can I say, guys? I am a sucker for noisy punk, Missy Dabice is immediately solidified as one of the best caterwaulers in the biz, and the production here is aces. Kids, eat your vegetables.
3. Adrianne Lenker, “Bright Future”
It was a year ending in a number, so at least one member of Big Thief released at least one new album and it managed to end up highly placed on this list even though sheer statistical odds dictate this level of output cannot remain good for this long. Anyway, it’s Adrianne Lenker at the plate once again, and once again she delivers a home run. And here, in particular, she continues establishing herself as one of this generation’s absolute most gifted songwriters. Most of her projects, with and without the band, don’t shy away from tugging on the ol’ heartstrings, but “Bright Future” is just an active assault from beginning to end. There are several songs on this album that leave me in ruins every time I listen to them (one of them is even called “Ruined!”). As a writer, one of my favorite experiences with music is a set of lyrics that just leaves me shellshocked, and Lenker starts delivering those on the very first track on this album. The musicianship is also as keen as ever; she’s another one of those artists who somehow keeps finding whole worlds of ideas in some of the simplest arrangements you’ve ever heard. I said that I no longer really believe in good and bad years for music, but “Bright Future” really puts that to the test because it’s nuts that not only isn’t this number one, I’m not even particularly uncomfortable that it isn’t.
2. Fontaines D.C., “Romance”
Some of you may recall that at the beginning of this, I said the top two entries were both bands I’ve been trying to get into for years but hadn’t been able to until now. And some of you, as a result of that, are now becoming very angry with me! Because “Romance” is the sellout record. It’s the cool post-punk band going full alt-rock. To which I say: “At what point did I ever give any of you the impression I am something other than a giant loser?” Sometimes I like the edgy, dangerous bands, and other times I am a whitebread dork who needs the noise rock outfit to write something with a hook. Sue me! Yeah, for all my love of punk, post-punk has mostly been lost on me over the years. I feel like it exists at a halfway point between punk and alternative, and that’s just not a zone I know what to do with. It’s too mellow to deliver that punk energy and too punk to be pretty or move you. So I was probably always going to love Fontaines D.C. the moment they committed to one end of the spectrum or the other. And here we are. And for the record, as much as personal taste is a factor, this remains a unique and memorable collection of music. Sometimes the band leans into new influences — there’s a little Britpop, they try for a hip hop vibe with “Starburster,” some of it feels like The Smiths, some of it feels like late career Arctic Monkeys — and sometimes they craft something that doesn’t have any meaningful precedent at all. It’s sharp, it’s tight, it’s got hooks for days, the punk attitude is preserved through the sound change, but there’s a heartbeat, too. It’s always a novel experience, and more than anything, that’s what I’m here for.
- Waxahatchee, “Tigers Blood”
This dropped on the same day as “Bright Future,” and I’m not going to put myself in the position of saying that’s a “Blonde on Blonde”/“Pet Sounds” situation, but lord. At the very least, alt-country fans sure were eating good that day. And they deserved it, because we are currently living through an era where country music both has never been bigger and has never been worse! Alt-country is kind of funny in general to me because of how much of it is just “country, but good.” One day, someone woke up and thought, “What if country music wasn’t terrible?” And we decided that was so unheard of we needed to invent a whole new genre to describe it. Waxahatchee is a country artist! “Tigers Blood” is a country album! It’s full of country songs! It’s just good! It’s OK to say it! Yeah, this is another album that largely, for me, is solidified through the quality of its songwriting, both lyrics and music. It takes country tropes, restores that earthy production, tackles relatable subjects, and does it all in a way that’s poetic and fresh and specific to itself — will wonders never cease? Like I said, I’ve also been trying to get Waxahatchee for a while, and here it isn’t so much a factor of a change in sound or direction as it’s just their game getting stepped up to the point that I’m finally ready to get on board. I think there are other albums this year that hit higher highs, or are maybe a touch more memorable, but what really earned it 2024’s top slot is just its rock-solid consistency — the fact that I really like every single track, and I outright love most of them. Some years it’s hard, some years it isn’t, most years it’s in the middle; this year, I have no misgivings about the choice I made. “Tigers Blood” is the real deal.
See you next time! It’ll probably be the Oscar predictions — possibly the cinema year in review, assuming the movies I’m still waiting on hit streaming in the very near future (like I said, I live in the middle of nowhere). As a signoff: Trans rights are human rights, no human being is illegal, the truth is true no matter who believes it, and the right thing is the right thing no matter who wants to do it. Stay safe out there.
Matthew Triponey 