As I work on this favorites list, I am sitting by the lake right at the cusp of sunset before it dissolves into dusk. I am listening to Sufjan Stevens, and watching faint glimmers of holiday lights shimmer across the water like tiny stars. I am pensive and wistful as I think of the past year, and I miss so many people terribly. But the year has, all things considered, wrapped up nicely; music wise, it’s been incredible, hasn’t it? I’ll be honest with you, though; I never look forward to writing these introductions because they are so prone to cliche. Yes, it’s been a long year, a hard year, a stressful year, a fine year, a good year. Yes, there has been a lot of joy, a lot of tension, and a lot of grief. But more joy. So, at the risk of cliche, what can I say, really, other than how grateful I am that music continues to be the constant in a world of unpredictability, a reminder that patience still exists within a world that profits off the opposite. I’ve been running this blog for a decade now, and I am still bewildered at what music can do. I am indebted to the musicians below for the creation of flawless worlds that provide respite, catharsis, and ultimately, understanding; the world is better for it. This list has no order; I love them all, and I sincerely hope you are able to find beauty in them also.
If you were an independent artist, band, or record label I communicated with this year, thank you. If you were a reader of this blog this year, thank you. This blog would be absolutely nothing without you. Here’s to 2024.
Sufjan Stevens, Javelin
Back in October, Sufjan Stevens shared Javelin, his stunning tenth solo studio album. It is a breathtakingly beautiful return to form, style, and signature – an echoing of the evocative chamber-folk within his 2015 LP Carrie & Lowell – as well as yet another example of his brilliant compositional style. Since it’s been released, and after listening to it oh, several dozen times now, I’ve realized that Javelin, too, is an album that is, at once, as I phrased it in our review, the desperate annihilation of ego as well as an elegy for the deepest, most private parts of a person in mourning; recorded, engineered, arranged, produced, and mixed by Sufjan himself, Javelin is at once a self-portrait as well as an offering, striving to convey “the quietness of a solitary confession” while simultaneously asking “universal questions…we can share communally.”
Dedicated to his late partner, the album seeks to catechize the temporalities of both grief and faith, but ultimately, as is the case with many Sufjan albums, the songs are overflowing with love-catalyzed affirmations, both subtle and direct. This is something Sufjan undoubtedly orchestrated, especially given his statement: “If you happen to find that kind of love,” Sufjan explained in his dedication to his partner, “hold it close, hold it tight, savor it, tend to it, and give it everything you’ve got, especially in times of trouble.” He continued: “live every day as if it is your last, with fullness and grace, with reverence and love, with gratitude and joy.” And in regards to the people in our lives, he explains that “it’s always worth it to put in the hard work and care for the ones you love, especially the beautiful ones, who are few and far between.” What better to take with us into the new year (and beyond) than this?
REQUIRED LISTENING: “My Red Little Fox,” “Shit Talk,” “Genuflecting Ghost”
photo courtesy of artist
A Beacon School, yoyo
Yoyo is the brilliant follow-up to Brooklyn-based multi-instrumentalist Patrick J Smith’s incredible debut LP Cola, an album that established A Beacon School as a dynamic experimental project oscillating effortlessly between synthwave and glitch pop, math rock and shoegaze. Smith’s incomparable tonal narratives are sprawling and atmospheric, seemingly transcending dimension, and yoyo is no exception; described as “an untainted exploration of the unconscious artistic self and the oscillation of time,” the sophomore album shows Smith at his very best, while simultaneously paying homage to his past. There is a focus on self-awareness, vulnerability, and resignation to fate and the unknown, and it shows through on these ethereal compositions.
As we stated in our review, yoyo is an apt title for this album due to the way it sways delicately back and forth from hesitation to acquiescence, from the way in which the synth work – complex, meticulous, breathtaking – rise and fall, swell and shrink, bloom and wilt all in tandem with Smith’s earnest, vulnerable narratives. And yet, the album also seems to hint towards something like equilibrium – not because everything in life has magically become simpler, but because there now exists an internal peace that came from a resignation to fate, as well as trust that this was what was meant to happen in the first place. (Also, even though we didn’t make a list for it this year, I want to officially state that “Middle of Winter” is, without a doubt, my absolute favorite song of 2023, and that 2:07-3:15 was on a constant loop in the back of my mind. Thanks!)
REQUIRED LISTENINGs: “Middle of Winter,” “Honeyed (Stay Forever),” “Alone”
photo courtesy of artist
Wild Nothing, Hold
Wild Nothing’s fifth studio album, Hold, was a wonderful burst of deja vu; it gestured at once to the ethereality of Gemini, the subtle complexity of Nocturne, and the piercing eighties-inspired melodies of Indigo. But, as we stated in our review, Hold proved to be much, much more than an amalgamation of all that came before it – it showcased just how inimitable Tatum’s work is, namely, his incredible contribution to the synth pop genre, the way in which he has constantly pushed the envelope of what can be expressed solely through sound. Tatum was inspired by the strange, surreal shift from the city to the suburbs in order to raise his son, as well as inspired by dance music, which he admits was practically all he listened to during the pandemic. As a result, these tracks are incredibly cerebral and evocative, and equal parts sincere and parodic. Ultimately, Hold argues that both craving and settling into simplicity is not the same as willfully giving into oblivion and absurdity; it is, instead, strangely enough, its own act of rebellion.
REQUIRED LISTENING: “Basement El Dorado,” “Histrion,” “The Bodybuilder”
photo by Ethan Hickerson
Nature TV, Mid Flight (EP)
Mid Flight is Nature TV’s stunning seventh EP, following the lovely Nightshift released just last year. The Brighton-based indie pop quartet (or “door-to-door heartbreak salesmen,” as they lovingly call themselves) have a penchant for creating thoughtfully complex, brilliantly earnest melodies with a inclination towards the cinematic and slightly surreal; in Mid Flight, desire and heartbreak are two sides of the same shiny, yet jagged coin, complete with intelligent, wistful narratives that show this tension tenfold. It even ventures somewhat into the experimental, with the closer as a textured, evocative nod to embracing the unknown. As we stated in our review of the EP, these songs ultimately seem to suggest that there’s beauty in not only succumbing to one’s heartache, and thinking towards one’s shortcomings and failures, but, more importantly, accepting that this is all part of getting closer to something, something, like peace.
REQUIRED LISTENING: “Illusions,” “Please,” “Frida”
photo by Irene Guinta
Angelo De Augustine, Toil and Trouble
Toil and Trouble, Angelo De Augustine’s fourth album released back in June, is based on the concept of a “counter-world,” and the act of, as he stated, “taking oneself out of reality in order to try and understand reality.” While attempting to invoke the experimental process that gave way to Tomb, his devastating breakthrough album, he “endured he endured an ephemeral but nightmarish period of otherworldly sensations and supernatural visions,” which, while slightly impeded the creation of the album, ultimately “helped to enrich” its “immense emotional depth.” The lyrics are some of the most thoughtfully written I’ve seen in quite some time, packed with allusions and imagery aplenty, ready to transport the listener into a counter-world of their own design, if they so please.
While the album was the result of “thinking about the madness of the world right now and how overwhelming that can be,” this rampant madness and chaos is washed in the restorative waters of Angelo De Augustine’s graceful compositions, and portrayed just as gracefully through his incomparably beautiful vocals that are always slightly isolated and echoed, as if bleeding in from another dimension. Do not let Toil and Trouble’s calm nature fool you; underneath its softness is pure viscera.
REQUIRED LISTENING: “Song of the Siren,” “Blood Red Thorn,” “Naked Blade”
photo by Pooneh Ghana
Beach Vacation, Coping Habits
The very first seconds of “Up Late,” the evocative opener to Beach Vacation’s wonderful sophomore album Coping Habits, is a gorgeous representation of the album as a whole; the intrigue and beauty of the album resides within its subtle, seamless tonal shifts and kaleidoscopic melodies, its immediate resignation to the soft, pensive, and otherworldly. True to the album’s title, many tracks, given their gossamer synth and gauzy choral vocals, are near-palliative in nature, remarkably redefining the shoegaze genre to be just as restorative as it is potentially abrasive. Though these tracks may appear tightly wound, they always loosen just slightly as they play on, making way for small, yet potent pockets of light and air which provide a bit more space to breathe, grow, heal. And, as we stated in our mini review back in September, if to heal is to leave behind what is hurting, these songs argue that the departure doesn’t have to be so painful. What begins as a coping habit might very well turn into a panacea.
Favorite Tracks: “Up Late,” “Just Like You,” “Blurred Out” (ft. Cathedral Bells)
photo courtesy of artist
Human Tetris, Two Rooms
Two Rooms is the stunning follow-up to Human Tetris’s 2018 brilliant album Memorabilia, a scintillating continuation of the Moscow-based band’s exceptional take on post punk and new wave. Though it is difficult to top the earnest, brooding aura of Memorabilia, Two Rooms absolutely held its own in its portrayal of sheer immediacy and ruminative vulnerability; composed of hazy, radiant guitar, brooding basslines, acerbic percussion, and passionate vocals, the album seems to transcend this plane. New wave and post-punk are already such impossibly evocative genres, and Human Tetris understands this enough to expand it even more; hypnotic and all-encompassing, there are moments where you’re able to hear entire worlds within the guitar melodies alone, entire narratives in a single note. Ultimately, Two Rooms is the perfect package, equal parts invigorating and introspective.
REQUIRED LISTENING: “Silhouette,” “Day and Night,” “Fade”
photo courtesy of artist
OTHER ALBUMS (AND EPS) WE LOVED:
Cathedral Bells, Everything At Once
Orchid Mantis, there is one place we are all going
COOL HEAT, Permanence (EP)
Pearly Drops, A Little Disaster
waveform*, Antarctica
Motorama, Sleep, and I Will Sing
Citizen, Calling the Dogs
Beach Fossils, Bunny
SPARKLING, We Are Here To Make You Feel
Mutual Benefit, Growing at the Edges
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kid with a vinyl 