To quote the old wisdom: “The years start coming / And they don’t stop coming”. And by all the heavens to Betsy, 2024 just kept on coming. Elections demanding your attention, political unrest permeating everyday life, continuing genocides televised in our faces everyday, and about a million other things (maybe some of them good? Who knows at this point) since January 1st 2024 rolled into our lives.
One thing that has been there for us throughout though, has been the music (even if thinking back to January takes a little more brain power). The power of songs to guide us, support us, pick us up, help us wallow, aid us by recognising and adding to our fury of the state of the world. I don’t know about you, but music is a rock for the folks here at Beats Per Minute, that lighthouse in the darkest, stormiest weather, if not the anchor when everything is shifting around us. It came in many forms in 2024: absolute pop bangers (by god it has been a year for them, some big name artists producing their best work and breaking through to the mainstream in the process); soft acoustic ballads from established names proving their place at the top once again; triumphant returns from favourite names; rap songs that knock you back with their beats (or just make you go “ooooh”); songs of unbearable density to scream along; songs of such immense heartache and grief to cry along to.
As ever, there’s always an abundance of songs to choose from, and all the writers here at BPM could sit you down and present a thesis-like lecture on why they think their favourites should take the top spots. They’d sway you too, because I know how passionate they all are. But amidst all the swaying, all the pleading, and all the impassioned cases made, we managed to find ourselves in agreement on our final list.
Fifty songs we think are the best from the long year gone, that hopefully serve as a reminder that these 12 months definitely weren’t all bad. Fifty songs for another year that just kept coming.
Listen to a Spotify playlist of our Top 50 Songs of 2024 here.
50.
Julia Holter – “Evening Mood”
[Domino]
There’s something really fun about seeing an artist you enjoy slowly build their artistic identity. Julia Holter has been sculpting hers ever since she broke out with her debut, Tragedy, and followed it up with a discography that at times doubles down on her experimentalist nature, or injected a bright burst of pop songwriting right into it. Her last album, Aviary, was a long and winding experimental epic, mixing modern classical minimalist and abstraction with imagistic lyricism. But this year’s Something in the Room She Moves seems to find a nice middle ground between her most daring impulses and her ear for catchy pop melodies.
“Evening Mood” exhibits that quite well, with a spacey, almost carnival-esque opening, as Holter coos above the glistening keys and rubbery bass. The chorus is surprisingly catchy amidst the mist, and eventually, it reaches a glittering conclusion. It’s a six-minute encapsulation of the various sides of Holter at this point in her career, and serves as a rich emblem of the album as well as its maker’s deep creative spirit. – Jeremy J. Fisette
49.
Los Campesinos! – “0898 HEARTACHE”
[Heart Swells]
Acrimony has long found itself tangled up with righteous fury in the depths of the Los Campesinos! discography. Hardly a day goes by, or a song for that matter, when Gareth David Paisley doesn’t yelp about some random cruelty or the injustices meted out to people living on the periphery of society. And while their latest album, All Hell, doesn’t shift that perspective in a seismic way, it does allow for an acceptance of everyday tribulation and an exploration of the ways in which we might meet those trials head on.
On “0898 HEARTACHE”, the band opens with the usual pessimistic narration, but that soon changes, giving them the opportunity to envision a future that might just possess some small hopeful radiance. Their guitars still retain an inherent momentum, and the percussive landscape remains unpredictable, giving the track a sense of wild abandon tempered by their years of collected experience. Despite its temperamental nature, “0898 HEARTACHE” has the feel of an elegiac swansong – though god knows we need them now more than ever. – Joshua Pickard
48.
DIIV – “Everyone Out”
[Fantasy/Concord]
Shoegaze has made a quiet return, mostly through the airwaves of TikTok and YouTube Zoomer discourse. Many of the rising stars have yet to release a full length, all the while the great origin bands tour arenas.
In between those tidal movements, DIIV have released one of the most majestic works in the genre, a deeply sensitive and textured record that gets better with each listen. Right in the middle of Frog In Boiling Water, the gorgeous “Everyone Out” comes as a simple acoustic ballad, but slowly builds to the band’s possibly most gorgeous composition. Through its ethereal guitar effects and pastel vocal harmonies, it’s a genuinely impactful and muscular song, with a dark heart at its centre.
With a lot of Frog In Boiling Water being explicitly political, “Everyone Out” resulted in different interpretations of its text even within the band. It can be seen as a confident, dark acceptance of defeat as much as a euphoric moment of maturity and independence. Yet in its origin, the song is meant to attack the political philosophy of accelerationism, with the protagonist speaking from the perspective of a toxic necro-capitalist, who sees himself propelling to power while the world around him falls apart, confident in the eventual rebirth of a stronger society. In an era where nations toy once more with the poisonous, destabilising forces of fascism and cannibalistic völkische ideals, the song is a thinly veiled oppositional hymn. As pretty as it is heavy, the song belongs to every mixtape of this year. – John Wohlmacher
47.
Hurray For The Riff Raff – “Hawkmoon”
[Nonesuch]
No shortage of writers has toyed with the name Transamerica, but on “Hawkmoon” Hurray For The Riff Raff moves it from the drag show to the road. Based on a busride for a runaway, Alynda Segarra spins an allegory of the American West and its promises/warnings. Its head is pressed against the window but somehow there’s still sand in its hair and teeth, the grizzled Americana tones are all Route 66 swag, caffeine pills, beef sticks and introducing Miss Jonathan: a German transvestite with a dildo on her car’s antenna. – Steve Forstneger
46.
ROSÉ – “APT.” (feat. Bruno Mars)
[Atlantic]
And the BLACKPINK alum least likely to…
Make a carefree, silly ode to a drinking game that turned out to be the single among any the members have put out to date? A song so absurdly catchy that it instantly embedded and nested in any ears within circumference?
As charming as she is, Rosé was certainly not the one that you’d think would put out “the bop” (first female Korean soloist to top the charts in Australia and the first to make the Top 10 on the Billboard Hot 100, mind you!), let alone one this immediate and unconcerned. Indeed, her music tends to feel like emotional labor, with the New Zealand born, primarily Australia-raised artist more interested in her guitar and emo-pop ballads (a credit to her uniqueness in a rather monochromatic landscape) than something resembling a titanic pop single.
Yet, here we are, with “APT.” undeniably ranking among the year’s very best pop jams, with kids, teens. and boozing adults alike, worldwide, obsessing over a Korean party game. Hell, not even a strutting Bruno Mars is able to tinker with its momentum. It may have, somewhat predictably, turned out to be an outlier on an album that’s largely devoted to Swiftian energy, but it proved to a global audience just what Rosé is capable of when she lets her hair down and allows herself to have an unrestrained blast. – Chase McMullen
45.
Mannequin Pussy – “Split Me Open”
[Epitaph]
When Marisa Dabice first says “split me open,” she does go gently and with restraint: the request is directed as much at her lover as at herself. She’s infatuated and in need of approval; “My body’s a temple / It was built for you”—why isn’t that enough? The hints of self-disgust and unrequited love build as the song builds from an indie ballad to a spiteful, desperate rager—“I’m asking for time / I’m begging for space” she begs again and again.
Yet, eventually, the rage calms. Mannequin Pussy stretch the song on in a gazy wall of hints that hints at something close to hope. Hope that Dabice has tossed this person aside and has found that freedom and self-actualization that she, and everyone, deserves. – Carlo Thomas
44.
Beyoncé – “Texas Hold ‘Em”
[Parkwood/Columbia]
Trust Beyoncé, being the absolute goddess and Official Queen of Everything™, to deliver the country hit of the year (as well as one of the catchiest earworms of her already impossibly superlative career). She takes the staples of the genre and dishes them up with new life and excitement: buoyant banjos, a foot stomping beat, rustic fiddles, and impossible to resist call and response vocals. Even the cicadas are chirping in time. “It’s a real life boogie and a real life hoedown,” she sings, dropping her voice to a delicious deadpan just moments after as she instructs “Don’t be a bitch, come take it to the floor now.” You heard the Queen; stop just tapping your foot and get on that dancefloor. – Ray Finlayson
43.
IU – “Shopper”
[EDAM Entertainment]
An ode to carefree, blameless – and shameless – self-care? That simultaneously snipes out a winking, damning indictment of excessive consumerism and capitalism? Which also happens to be an absolutely addictive slice of pop magic? Sheesh, that sure is a lot of weight for one wee song! Naturally, though, Korean wunderkind IU is not just any songwriter. Resistant to all out K-pop for years, spiraling off in unpredictable directions across the likes of Modern Times and CHAT-SHIRE, Lee Ji-eun finally fully came calling on her homeland’s bread and butter with this year’s The Winning. Being the idiosyncratic visionary that she is, she bent the genre to her will, rather than the other way around. Nearly sheepish in its grand embracement of squeaky K-pop sheen, it’s no wonder she snuck so much loving sarcasm in. “Shopper” is an act of total, even selfish, self-love, and frees us up to do the same. Sometimes it really does need to be all about us. – Chase McMullen
42.
Geordie Greep – “Holy, Holy”
[Rough Trade]
For real, I think Geordie Greep is trolling us! black midi have toyed with fake news and misinformation before, and anyone who’s ever seen them live knows what bloody jokesters they are. Have they really broken up in the wake of the burning Hellfire, or is this all just clever PR strategy? God knows. But here is Greep, with his first album’s lead-off single, “Holy Holy”, a masturbatory power fantasy of island-rhythm drenched progressive rock. Over its six minutes and bowling ball chugging music video, the song unloads like a 90s pornstar. At its centre, a lounge lizard who imagines himself as hyper-virile latin lover.
Sure, the musicianship here is utterly, bewilderingly brilliant. But the real standout is Greep’s writing. With the steady hand of Bukowski’s steady pathetic libido, Ferry’s glamorous irony and Kinski’s mad animal drive, Greep hacks himself through masculine sexual fantasies that are so stupidly lurid and incredible that they deserve condemnation from the catholic church! The narrator pays for a sex worker pretending she’s falling for a world famous Casanova, play-acting an entire scene for the public eye, when in reality he’s just some poor schmuck who’s barely getting laid. It’s funny, brilliantly sardonic and incredibly potent in its unmasking of male power struggle: “I want you to shoot a smug look at the other girls / To make them jealous I chose you / When I tell you your pussy is holy / I want you to slap me and then kiss me”. Its multi-layered disrespect is so cleverly stacked up on itself, one almost forgets that Greep’s hyper-virile character is just a fantasy of the author. Brilliant and as mean spirited as they come. – John Wohlmacher
41.
Circuit Des Yeux – “God Dick”
[Matador]
This song could have made it onto the list on the strength of its title alone, but Haley Fohr ensures that the audio portion of “God Dick” is big and powerful enough to steal the spotlight away from the titular image. Long time Circuit des Yeux fans will know of Fohr’s operatic voice, which spans more octaves than I can count, and here she augments it by putting it up against a grandiose arrangement of strings worthy of the opening credits of a big budget HBO drama. Perhaps the most interesting element of “God Dick”, though, is the electronic manipulation, which starts subtly but soon overtakes the track, swirling those strings into a hypersonic whirlpool. Fohr’s voice rides above it all, commanding and colossal – an avant-garde Ursula – Rob Hakimian
40.
Empress Of – “Lorelei”
[Major Arcana/Giant Music]
Ah, infidelity, how many great songs have you inspired over the centuries? Few have probably been quite as slinky and infectious as Empress Of‘s “Lorelei” though. The cheating inflicted upon Lorely Rodriguez here isn’t particularly subtle – her partner has remnants of someone else’s lipstick on her mouth, there’s someone else’s smell in the bed, and who the hell’s earrings are these? The way Rodriguez tells it, she’s already deeply scarred from previous experiences like this – perhaps the only way to get through it is to dance the pain away, and she’s provided a delectably rhythmic modern electro-pop backing to facilitate that here. – Rob Hakimian
39.
Caribou – “Come Find Me”
[City Slang/Merge]
The first half of Caribou’s Honey aims for the danceclub, but provides several means of getting there. As tight and economical as its sister tracks, “Come Find Me” starts with an organic drumbeat that eventually digitises, similar to how bands like Phoenix blurred the lines between indie rock and French disco. Like teasing someone through seemingly endless beaded curtains, the song title beckons but remains a step ahead. Synthwaves pulsate like slow strobes, while the swaying cadence mimics the rolling bodies of the ecstatic dancers. – Steve Forstneger
38.
The Decemberists – “Joan in the Garden”
[YABB]
The Decemberists are back, baby! I know, they never left, but how we missed them in full theatrical form, spinning the grandest tails without compromising their sense of quaintness, drama, and whimsy. Cue “Joan In The Garden”, the band’s return this year, clocking in at a whopping 19+ minutes! Complete with genre flips, from folk to prog rock to even ambient drone; complete with church bells, string sections, and choral vocals; complete with Colin Meloy calling a name (“Hosanna”) out into the great beyond like his life depends on it; complete with its own interlude to help you through the grandeur. This is prime Decemberists, and we are here for it. “Hosanna yeah”? More like Decemberists yeah! – Ray Finlayson
37.
Charly Bliss – “Nineteen”
[Lucky Number]
Time has a way of shifting our perspective on love, whether we two weeks into a new relationship or reminiscing about one from decades ago. The hurt can change, the devastation and euphoria tempered by hindsight, and we see more clearly the full weight of the good and bad things we might have done and those things which were done to us.
“Nineteen” finds Charly Bliss looking back at distant love and realizing that, despite the ache it caused at the time, it shaped them in ways that have become all too apparent now. Punchy piano chords and singer Eva Hendricks’ uniquely pitched vocals are embossed by sax and synths in a billowing power ballad that recognizes the damage that nostalgia can bring while also recognizing that it is a potent force of reassessing past emotional turbulence. – Joshua Pickard
36.
Camera Obscura – “We’re Going To Make It In A Man’s World”
[Merge]
The title of Camera Obscura‘s “We’re Going To Make It In A Man’s World” may give the track’s mission statement away, but its true power comes through gentle empowerment. Glistening bells and a crying guitar decorate Tracyanne Campbell woes of male privilege and the assumptions thrust upon her. The biting line “Take your report, shove it right down your throat,” may even go unnoticed.
In other words, Camera Obscura use their latest album’s second track to test who’s really listening. When Campbell, Kenny McKeeve, and Donna Maciocia alternate between “I’m” and “We’re,” they’re threading the knot between the determination of the individual and the power of the collective. Through their trademark chamber-pop touch, the band offers up a call to arms—if you’re listening close enough to hear it. – Carlo Thomas
35.
Beth Gibbons – “Lost Changes”
[Domino]
There is no hope but the people and love we surround ourselves with – so says Beth Gibbons on the bleak and heart-wrecking “Lost Changes”. Time ravages bodies, memories, and our ability to connect with one another, and Gibbons is here to bear witness to the terrible consequences of mortality. A time capsule acoustic guitar line belonging to the late 60s shivers within a bitter landscape of lost love and hopelessness. She sings, “Forever ends, you will grow old”, a devastating acknowledgement of impermanence and our transition through this world, a sadness at our inability to challenge this most basic function of our existence. Her voice is insistent, a perceptive oracle for our times, bearing hard truths and darker futures. We can be thankful for its honesty in a damaged world, even as we cling to memories of happier times. – Joshua Pickard
34.
Safe Mind – “6′ Pole”
[NUDE CLUB]
The debut track from new synthpop duo Safe Mind, “6′ Pole,” is pure frisky fun—an unapologetic nightlife anthem full of nonsense that’ll have you dancing like no one’s watching. A natural offshoot of Boy Harsher, this collaboration between LUCY and Augustus Muller delivers an unrestrained synthpop banger, perfect for a wild romp through downtown LA—think cheap thrills, unironically chain-smoking Newports, and all the depravity you can handle in a single night. With LUCY’s offbeat, laissez-faire lyricism and Mueller’s beat-making sorcery, “6′ Pole” might be the year’s most electrifying display of carefree escapism. – Kyle Kohner
33.
Moor Mother – “Guilty”
[ANTI-]
Camae Ayewa has been no stranger to great drama with her work as Moor Mother, but on “Guilty”, the opening track of her newest record The Great Bailout, she reaches a new height as well as a new depth. The song travels across nearly 10 slow, epic minutes, sustained by a bed of synth, keys, bassy sounds, some vocalization from Raia Was, and percolating harp from Mary Lattimore. Moor Mother herself intones, repeatedly, phrases like “Did you pay off the trauma?”, “Guilty!”, “Paying off the crimes”, and “Tax payers of erasure.”
But the real star of the show is American artist and singer Lonnie Holley, who sings lead across the lugubrious epic. Holley sings with such deep, unsparing pathos, his performance deeply emotive, terribly moving. The words he sings gather various images of people “screaming and throwing up their hands” and being “falsely misled”. Seeing as The Great Bailout is Moor Mother’s exploration of colonialism and slavery in the United Kingdom, as well as the Slavery Abolition Act 1833, “Guilty” takes on immediate weight and meaning. It’s hard to imagine anyone lending the song more emotional fortitude and heft than Holley.
The production swirls around him, giving his deep voice — weary but still strong — the spotlight it deserves, and Moor Mother’s concoction comes to its bitter end, as Holley leaves us on the line, “Your hand out, your hand out, your hand out / To surrender”. The ripples of history echo on and out, but it’s important to look, no matter how many decades on, at the source of their ignition. – Jeremy J. Fisette
32.
Infant Island – “Veil”
[Secret Voice]
Earlier this year, I took a five day trip over to Chicago from London to attend ZBR Fest, a festival dedicated to screamo. I bought the ticket as soon as it was announced that Infant Island would be on the bill; they were an astonishing highlight amidst a faultless lineup. For the uninitiated, the band from Fredericksburg, Virginia, are one of the leading lights of modern screamo with a couple of EPs and and an LP under their belt. They’re on the black-metal leaning end of the diverse screamo spectrum, and on the their latest album Obsidian Wreath they posited themselves as the band to fill that Deafheaven-sized hole in your life since those guys went all shoegazey with clean vocals and such.
It’s their grandest production yet, with orchestral arrangements augmenting the guitar assault, which is fitting as it’s also their most widescreen and most community minded release so far. At the album’s centre sits “Veil” featuring no less than a dozen guest vocalists providing gang vocals during the song’s cathartically wrenching climax. It starts like scuzzy noise rock, all growling bass, clanging industrial drum hits, and disgustingly strained vocals, before pivoting into skyscraping blackgaze and post-rock grandeur. When the bands friends from .giffromgod, Senza, For Your Health, Undeath, Malevich and Mikau join in for the repeated refrain of “this world is enough” you might just be convinced to believe it. In a world full of fear, hatred and division, Infant Island choose hope, love and togetherness. Lift the veil and choose the same. – Andy Johnston
31.
Helado Negro – “I Just Wanna Wake Up With You”
[4AD]
“I Just Want to Wake Up with You” from Helado Negro’s latest album, Phasor, exemplifies Roberto Carlos Lange’s capacity for simple wonder. Melodically and texturally, the track recalls Far In’s “There Must Be a Song Like You”, though with the former, Lange seems less insulated, his voice tinged with ambivalence, perhaps an awareness that these days, the bridges back to Eden have been pretty much washed out or dynamited. That is, “There Must Be A Song Like You” points to a love that has fallen in place, while “I Just Want to Wake Up with You” is more about longing, even fantasy, occasionally bringing to mind The Beach Boys’ “Wouldn’t It Be Nice”. The tune is sumptuous, hook-driven, and dreamy, carried by Lange’s buttery vocal. Throughout, Lange reassures us that true love is possible while pointing to the fact that it’s also hard to sustain. – John Amen
30.
The Weather Station – “Neon Signs”
[Fat Possum]
Written from confusion, The Weather Station‘s “Neon Signs” takes strands of being perplexed by love, the climate, and untruths, and forms them all together. An insistent drum beat holds everything – ambling piano chords, dainty flutes, Tamara Lindeman’s stream of words – together, forming a tight knit moment before unspooling it in the final minute. It’s that feeling of sense coming from misunderstanding and then the process flipping, all before nothing adds up. Lindeman orchestrates it all into a dazzling tapestry, a document of processing and realisation. – Ray Finlayson
29.
Gillian Welch & David Rawlings – “Hashtag”
[Acony]
Admittedly, I balked when I first saw that Gillian Welch and David Rawlings were releasing a song with a decidedly modern title, “Hashtag”. Upon hearing it, my initial relief that this was clearly not a song about the trappings of 21st century technology went on to be usurped by my amazement at one of the duo’s finest songwriting feats to date. A tribute to the late Guy Clark, the song captures grief in its starkest terms (“Put another good one in the ground / Good Lord, it’s going round”) and the weight of a long-time friend’s absence (“Looking at your boots, Jesus Christ”). Turning their gaze inwards amidst dizzying sorrow, the duo wonder aloud, repeatedly, “When will we become ourselves?”. The lack of resolution imbues the tune with a disconcerting power. – Tom Williams
28.
drive your plow over the bones of the dead – “spirit incantation”
[Self-released]
Vancouver emoviolence trio drive your plow over the bones of the dead deal in chaos – controlled chaos to be sure – but chaos, nonetheless. Their songs masquerade as fleeting bouts of metallic precipitation, economic and obliterating in their efficacy. “Spirit Incantation”, the opening track to their latest sonic treatise, tragedy as catharsis, is a pummeling condensation of the raging dissonance and screeching vocal apoplectics which grounds the album in brutal but earnest emotional revelation. Within this disorder is a need for connection, for tactile sensation, and the band hurl themselves headlong into these juggernaut riffs and earth-awakening rhythms, yearning for the company of others and the thunderous beating of shared hearts. – Joshua Pickard
27.
samlrc – “Philautia”
[samlrc’s Flowerfields]
The 12-minute “Philautia”, from this year’s A Lonely Sinner, exemplifies samlrc’s aesthetic leanings and compositional MO. The track opens with pulsating synths, segueing into a turbid folk-rock segment. Sam’s elusive voice is backed by an acoustic guitar and framed by various metallic and spacey accents. An exhilarating drum feature follows, conjuring witchy circles and pagan rituals. This segment, in turn, transitions into a hardcore sprawl, static guitars undergirded by jackhammer drums, Sam facilitating a Dionysian crescendo. The track, though lengthy, is meticulously plotted. Transitions are made seamlessly; the piece coheres, flows, evolves, the perfect illustration of a journey that is at once a fairytale and a nightmare. – John Amen
26.
Chat Pile – “Masc”
[The Flenser]
It’s every heavy music fan’s favourite pasttime each year to take a wild guess as to which metal act will be selected to be the crossover success and critical darling of mainstream music journo circles. A few years ago, the shrivelled finger of the monkey paw unfurled to point squarely at Chat Pile and their caustically misanthropic debut full-length God’s Country. This meant that an act that could ordinarily operate in a hermetically sealed environment of fuck-who’s-listening-we’ll-do-what-we-want suddenly had the weight of expectation on them; the pressure to craft another “crowd-pleaser” like “Why”.
Chat Pile definitively avoided the proverbial sophomore slump on this year’s Cool World, and they evolved too. Frontman Raygun Busch cast his gaze outward to the world around him, focusing less on individual madness, depravity, or evil and more on just how fucked up life on this god forsaken rock is. In a strange way, it’s a more empathetic record, and it’s reflected in the nods towards accessibility and melody amongst all the nauseating nu-metal, sludge-rock.
Standing tall in the tracklist is “Masc” with its post-punk propulsiveness and chorus that sways with dizzyingly druggy despair. It’s likely the first Chat Pile song that could legitimately bring a listener to tears, such is the emotion Busch imbues in his performance. The lyrics sketch out the dynamics of a toxic relationship with enough ambiguity to invite multiple interpretations: Masc refers both to toxic masculinity in myriad forms depending on who you deem to be the dominant force in the relationship (the perspective Busch writes from could be that of a woman or a man), but also to the masks we wear as a form of self-preservation and a means to maintain a relationship that may actually be a form of slow death by a thousand tiny cuts. Trust and bleed, indeed. – Andy Johnston
25.
Nilüfer Yanya – “Method Actor”
[Ninja Tune]
Nilüfer Yanya’s My Method Actor is full of great songs, but “Method Actor” is her most metal moment. The verses circle a mellow, minor key piano/vocal melody, but the chorus is fuzzed-out grunge-guitar bliss, the change like walking from a cool room out into roasting summer heat. The lyrics are increasingly violent, capturing desperation like lightning in a bottle. Throw in a pedal steel outro for good measure, and you’ve got a four-minute masterpiece. “I gave you everything you needed,” she sings. Yep. – Ethan Reis
24.
Cassandra Jenkins – “Aurora, IL”
[Dead Oceans]
Sometimes you need to be in the smallest space to understand the biggest scale. Holed up in a hotel room in the titular city, Cassandra Jenkins found herself conjuring images of the universe and her tiny place in it as she stared at the ceiling. Over baggy electric guitar chords and a drum beat that gradually locks into place, she sings about William Shatner flying in a rocket up to space and coming back in tears. “Just a thin line / Between us and nothingness,” she observes as strings slant against the guitars. For a moment, that thin line feels all too real, but thanks to “Aurora, IL”, it seems much less scary. – Ray Finlayson
23.
Mount Eerie – “Non-Metaphorical Decolonization”
[P.W. Elverum & Sun]
Phil Elverum wants you to know exactly what he means on Mount Eerie‘s “Non-Metaphorical Decolonization” – just so there’s no room for misinterpretation. He’s pissed off and wants everyone to know about it. The song details his rage at American imperialism and the harm it has done throughout history, with an emphasis on the Pacific Northwest. Elverum crafts a legitimate rock anthem with cresting riffs and noisy theatrics which briefly detours through soft folk landscapes before barreling back into the stratosphere, leaving little in its scorched-earth wake that is identifiable. He’s rarely been so direct in his approach to thematics in his work as he is here, but that’s the point – there’s no need to hide behind wordplay or musical mystery. He speaks of historical American ideology: “the old idea / I want it to die”; and we’re left with a lingering anger that can never be quenched, just expressed as loudly and as often as possible. – Joshua Pickard
22.
Fontaines D.C. – “Favourite”
[XL]
“Favourite” is a total triumph. Rounding out Fontaines D.C.‘s fourth album, Romance, the track is an anthem that appreciates the past while lauding praise for the changes that come with experience. Singing, “Did you know / Cities on return are often strange? / Yeah, and now / Every time you blink, you feel it change,” Grian Chatten describes the simultaneous existence within nostalgia, of feeling comfort through the recognition of progress that has occurred and the jolt of formerly unrecognized change. It’s a song that addresses a complex subject but does so gracefully in the way only Fontaines D.C. can. Through the various vignettes of lives lived generated lyrically and the masterful instrumentation that showcases a brighter tonality to the majority of the album – “Favourite” allows Romance to depart with a lasting air of hope. – Brianna Corrine
21.
Laura Marling – “Child of Mine”
[Partisan/Chrysalis]
The annals of music history are littered with great songs written by parents about their children, but Laura Marling entered her own understated yet undeniably heart-swelling offering this year with “Child of Mine”. The sound of her newborn babbling at the start of the track, followed by the opening line “You and your dad are dancing in the kitchen” immediately places us in a scene of domestic bliss, and this is subtly augmented by Marling’s quiet and quotidian observations. Snuck in here are some minutely profound and wise words, too, that – in true Marling style – can easily slip past the first few times you hear it, but strike you suddenly when you’re singing along to it for the tenth time. My personal favourite is “Everything you want is in your reach right now / And everything that’s not I have to teach somehow” – let’s hope she keeps giving us such candid views into that experience over the years to come. – Rob Hakimian
20.
Cindy Lee – “Stone Faces”
[Self-released]
By the time Cindy Lee’s glossy guitarwork enters “Stone Faces”, they’ve established a curiously devious yet playful scene. “I looked around, and what did I see?” Lee asks. It’s a question that could belong anywhere on Diamond Jubilee, but here it’s channeled through the existential lenses of fame and death.
What else is on Lee’s mind? We’re never quite sure: the song’s sparse lyrics leave up much to the listener’s interpretation. Instead, we’re left contemplating inside the song’s haze that’s both hermetic and expansive. And soon enough, the grooves fade out like a dream; we’re only halfway through Diamond Jubilee. There’s still so much more to see… – Carlo Thomas
19.
Uniform – “American Standard”
[Sacred Bones]
The 21-minute title track from Uniform’s latest album, American Standard, opens with a stunning a cappella segment, Michael Berdan shrieking, “there’s meat on my legs”, “there’s meat on my thighs”. His urgent declarations and horror-stricken delivery evoke the nightmare of navigating a distorted body image and severe eating disorder. Guitar parts soon blast, drone, and sputter; understated orchestral accents appear and disappear. As the piece unfurls, it conjures someone beating themselves, someone vomiting in a public bathroom, someone carving their skin, flesh, literally trying to erase their existence. And yet, the track brims with a self-preservative rage. It’s as if Berdan is saying, “I’d kill myself if I didn’t want to kill you more”. The track ends as it begins, portraying a human forsaken by cosmos, life, and self. Berdan may not be a mainstream everyman, but his self-loathing and ire will be familiar to many, whether they suffer from an eating disorder or not. His venting may even serve as a wake-up call for someone who wants help but doesn’t know it yet. – John Amen
18.
Magdalena Bay – “Image”
[Mom+Pop]
Each of us is striving to become our best self. Well, most of the time. Fine, some of the time. But imagine if there was a therapeutic service that could rewire your brain to quickfix your way to self-actualisation? Magdalena Bay dare to imagine a scenario quite similar to the one depicted in everyone’s favourite 2024 satirical body horror The Substance: the creation of a double of the duo’s vocalist, Mica, that is the ideal image. It’s entirely fitting that this conceit is explored in what is 2024’s platonic ideal of a pop single; a groovy, swoonily giddy ode to meeting your brand new self. It’s a slice of bizarro sci-fi pulp cloaked in chilled disco stylings, with Mica’s irresistibly seductive vocals embodying both sides of the doppelganger equation. When that distorted bass comes in near the three-minute mark, it feels like seeing the face of god and realising that face is your own. – Andy Johnston
17.
Clairo – “Sexy to Someone”
[Clairo]
Dreamy and filled with the longing to be desired, Clairo‘s “Sexy to Someone” gives voice to the craving for human interaction. It’s all fun and games when you have a crush. It could be said that when you have something or rather someone to look forward to trying to impress and grab the attention of, life becomes so much more interesting and enjoyable. Hence, Clairo strikes a key of relatability when she sings, “Sexy to somebody, it would help me out / Oh, I need a reason to get out of the house.” The easy, playful atmosphere built by a hypnotic piano and a glittering flute supports the want to be yearned for. “Sexy to Someone” serves as the prime backing track for the pent-up desire to be released and expressed. – Brianna Corrine
16.
Billie Eilish – “CHIHIRO”
[Darkroom/Interscope]
One of the most loved tracks off Billie Eilish’s acclaimed Hit Me Hard and Soft album, “Chihiro” is a groovy and ambient rumination on whether to leave a person who cannot make up their mind.
A soundscape of submerged guitar, muted clicks and synths underpin this almost five-minute opus. Billie finds herself pulled between two opposing forces of yearning for reciprocation and escape from a bad relationship. “Can you open up the door?” She repeats – unknown whether it is to the person’s arms or to the exit.
The song’s highlight is a showcase of Billie’s impressive vocal range as she sings “Did you take my love away from me?” Delivered as if ripped from her soul, the question leaves her afloat in an unknown space, stuck in a purgatory her romantic interest has put her in. – JT Early
15.
Mabe Fratti – “Enfrente”
[Unheard of Hope]
Across her album Sentir Que No Sabes, Guatemalan cellist and composer Mabe Fratti merges different shades of emotion marvellously, and perhaps none more captivatingly than “Enfrente”. It’s a loping, dramatic missive that finds her cello commanding amidst an array of electronic sounds and sweeping strings that augment the emotionally charged lyricism where she is both challenging and quivering in the face of something colossal. “Vas un paso enfrente de mí, amor / Sé que no te puedo alcanzar” (“You’re one step ahead of me, love / I know I can’t reach you”), she intones, her voice imbuing the words with profundity that is beyond their mere meaning. As the subtle melodrama engulfs, the polytonal “Enfrente” has one more trick up its sleeve – a breakbeat that emerges from nowhere and carries the song over the horizon, to lands unknown but hopeful. – Rob Hakimian
14.
Willi Carlisle – “Higher Lonesome”
[Signature Sounds]
It is not an exaggeration to say that Willi Carlisle’s latest LP places him in the lineage of legends like John Prine and Bob Dylan. Critterland’s centerpiece is the guitar-and harmonica-led tour-de-force “Higher Lonesome”. Though filled with raw portraits of grief and various symbols of strife, at the song’s core is a belief that loneliness can give way to something transcendent: “Higher lonesome kill the bitter parts of me,” cries Carlisle – both a plea and a statement of intent. – Tom Williams
13.
Half Waif – “March Grass”
[ANTI-]
Nandi Rose has never been afraid to share her wounds. In her work as Half Waif, she’s provided countless glimpses into the complicated and unkind world that exists around us – but on “March Grass”, a standout track from See You at the Maypole, she finds a way to move past the hurt, to be defiant in the face of unkindness and to find comfort in her ability to use hope as a lifeline for herself and for others. The world is still shit, but “March Grass” finds her breaking free of its ruthless gravity and illuminating the possibilities for growth and emotional development. It’s one of the most charged tracks on the album, with its staticky opening churn giving way to Rose’s beatific voice. The song maintains a background momentum which rears its head from time to time, offering a rollicking torrent of percussive entanglements, melodic gentilities, and positive reinforcement when we need it the most. – Joshua Pickard
12.
Ka – “Beautiful”
[Self-released]
With “Beautiful”, from his latest album, The Thief Next to Jesus, Ka offers a life-affirming tribute to Black culture and Black resilience. Given that the talented rapper died in October of this year, the piece takes on added poignancy. Throughout, the song is gospel-inflected, operating essentially as a call-and-response. Ka offers encouraging words: “May you live a nice long life / hope it’s …”, the supporting singers adding “beautiful”. He issues a summons for us to be more attuned to the needs of those less fortunate: “Giving back to the poor / that’s what you call …”. Again the voices add, “beautiful”. Muffled beats and free-form keyboard parts establish a real-time feel.
The piece exudes hard-won positivity, highlighting the human ability to process and triumph over various forms of suffering. Toward the end of the track, the mix captures the energetic interplays that often occur in a Black church between a choir, congregation, and minister, hardships shrugged off, hope claiming the day. – John Amen
11.
Kim Gordon – “I’m A Man”
[Matador]
The only thing that stops me from fully embracing multiversal theory is that it would mean that somewhere Kim Gordon is the least cool ex-member of Sonic Youth. That just seems entirely unlikely. Taken from her second solo album The Collective, “I’m A Man” is a bold, defiant exploration of identity, power, and gender dynamics. The track fuses gritty, minimalist basslines with hypnotic, spoken-word vocals in her inimitable style, creating a stark, unnerving atmosphere on a track that deals with the crisis of masculinity in late stage capitalism. Gordon’s deadpan delivery and cryptic lyrics dissect the performative nature of hegemonic masculinity and incel culture, mocking the arrogance often associated with it while also revealing its fragility. The patriarchy, after all, hurts us all. The song’s dissonant, sludgy texture amplifies its confrontational tone, making it a striking commentary on the cultural construction of gender. “I’m A Man” is unsettling yet compelling, showcasing Gordon’s knack for blending art, noise, and social critique in a deeply impactful way. – Todd Dedman
10.
MJ Lenderman – “Wristwatch”
[ANTI-]
MJ Lenderman’s critical breakthrough Manning Fireworks is filled with off-beat portraits of various down and outs – and the most singular, and quintessentially 21st century of these is “Wristwatch”. Filled with Lenderman’s most memorable and identifiable lyrics (who could forget “I’ve got a houseboat docked at the Himbo Dome”), the song speaks to having all the markers of success but a deep loneliness that no possession can fill. Boasts about beach homes, money and wristwatches all give way to the narrator’s ultimate admission: “I’m on my own”. – Tom Williams
9.
Jessica Pratt – “The Last Year”
[Mexican Summer/City Slang]
What regrets will we have at our inevitable ends? How will we hold ourselves in our final moments? Jessica Pratt examines the possibilities on “The Last Year”, the intimate final song on an album of intimate moments. Though the title holds a definitive timeframe, her words offer up much more nuance; she warns her lover that the distant past will still sting today, and offers hope that their storyline will go one forever.
Appropriately, the song goes on for a minute after Pratt’s last sung words. Her voice carries on through a wordless outro, like a bridge spanning from our world to the next. Yes, Pratt’s voice eventually fades away, but her guitar strums and Al Carlson’s piano serve as the memory of her indistinguishable presence. – Carlo Thomas
8.
Arooj Aftab – “Whiskey”
[Verve]
An immersive, after-dark symphony, Arooj Aftab’s Night Reign examines love as something hidden and mysterious. So often in pop music, whiskey stands opposite of love either as a refuge for the heartbroken or the reason for the heartbreak. Aftab revels in how it and love are intoxicants, despite her ice-cube hook: “You drink too much whiskey / when you are with me”. It begins delicately so a couple who are not yet a couple can get their bearings. But she begins to imagine possibilities and “Whiskey” blooms like a bouquet of suddenly surging streetlamps. There are charming stumbles and improvised lines, with an awful temptation to follow this upstairs for a nightcap. – Steve Forstneger
7.
The Cure – “Alone”
[Lost Music/Universal]
Some days I feel that for some obscure cosmic reason, this decade we find ourselves in the middle of is drenched by the unforgiving fog of mortality. I am glad my family – and I myself – have only been briefly caught up in the haze, with only lucky scars left as reminders. Others… not so much. So I’ve been in a particularly gothic mood this year, fed into by a stark reminder of my own fragility – the balance we call our life is oddly brittle. And I wasn’t very good at managing that. And then, suddenly, The Cure finally released their intensely anticipated new work, a reflection on mortality, spawned by the loss of Robert Smith’s brother. It’s a particularly heart wrenching and bittersweet record, a return to the form of old.
I first heard “Alone” in the final weeks of 2023, when the band played it as opener for a sold out arena show. Quite up in the front, I was struck that, when Smith walked on stage, he stopped after each step, and gazed through the audience, slowly, methodically. He would take minutes to take in the entire crowd. It was eerie, but also oddly comforting and personal. When he finally opened with “This is the end of every song that we sing”, it became clear to me that this would be one of these rare moments where you can witness music history in the making.
A fair observation: each of Songs of a Lost World‘s eight tracks would have fit well on this list. But “Alone”, with its quiet shoegaze dynamics, synthetic strings and sharp metallic rhythm section, evokes a strange sonic poetry. Like the aura of an ancient fading photograph, its echoing piano notes seem like the half remembered remnants of a prior lifetime, removed and displaced in the constant push of the present, forward. Smith’s vocal delivery is strong and determined, a bridge between the different compositional elements, as he evokes apocalyptic images of birds falling out of the sky, of love disappearing from our life. Hope exists solely in the very breadth of the composition, its sweeping lamentation of absence. Smith finds euphoria in the inevitable, resolving anxiety through sheer will to confront death. It’s a necessary and beautiful song, embodying a tone that has been missing in The Cure’s oeuvre. – John Wohlmacher
6.
Charli xcx – “Girl, so confusing featuring lorde”
[Atlantic]
In this age of sub-tweeting and shady comments, it does not come as a surprise that one of the most significant pop culture moments of this year was Charli xcx and Lorde resolving their differences on a surprising collaboration track.
The remix of “Girl, so confusing” is a shockingly vulnerable treatise on how misunderstanding can cause unintentional rifts. The pair navigate their prior clashing with empathy and grace over a blipping, synthy soundscape that demands dancing and reflection. Charli, on her verse, ruminates on the paranoia she feels that people want her success to stop while Lorde discloses many troubled aspects of her past from starving herself to being judged for walking like a “bitch” at the young age of 10. It is these transparent revelations that have allowed deeper understanding and friendship to blossom between them.
While a collaboration between the musicians would have grabbed people’s attention regardless, the fact that they address things so directly and with a meta twist (“One day we might make some music / The internet would go crazy”) is an exercise in humanity and maturity. Undoubtedly, this track has caused many listeners to ask themselves who they would like to “work it out on the remix” with. – JT Early
5.
Father John Misty – “Screamland”
[Bella Union/Sub Pop]
Joshua Tillman is certainly no stranger to despair, but he’s arguably never laid it all out more so than here. Nowhere to be seen is his winking wit, biting American satire, or that comfy layer of ironic grace and beauty. No, Father John Misty‘s “Screamland” is desperation and trauma, laid as bare as it possibly could be. When he all out howls, “Stay young / Get numb / Keep dreamin’,” it’s not just a last, fragile hope: it’s everything. It’s necessary. We have to keep that damn dream alive, or his entire world is going to snap in a ball of ugly sinew and collapse in on itself. It’s hope as a drenched, anguished obligation. As tarnished as we all may be, what’s life without it, after all? – Chase McMullen
4.
Kendrick Lamar – “Not Like Us”
[pgLang/Interscope]
Has there been a beef as prolific as the one between Kendrick Lamar and Drake? Unless you’re the Original Berf of Chicagoland, then the answer is no. The saga of exchanges between the two stars was fascinating not just because it saw Drake outed for his weak game and declining ability, but because it showed us just how devastating Kendrick can be when he goes for the jugular. When “Not Like Us” dropped the coffin was already nailed shut; this is Kendrick piling on the dirt and burying Drake.
Did Drake ever actually think he could win? Maybe. Was he actually ever going to? Not in this universe. The fact he had to sue his own label for a diss track says it all; playing the victim and crying wolf when we all saw him goad the wolf, invite it into his house, and foolishly try to fight it. And Kendrick snaps his jaws fiercely too, pulling no punches, every line practically lined with fangs. When he drops “Tryna strike a chord and it’s probably A minor” at the end of the first verse, sure it’s iconic, hilarious, and annihilative – but it’s just the start. From there – over the queasy string sample, synthesized fingersnaps, and Mustard’s rumbling beat – the real damage is delivered. Questions of Drake’s crew, street credibility, and cultural identity are raised, Kendrick not leaving any rock unturned. Someone who has been on vacation for a decade has less to unpack than all the barbs and references on “Not Like Us”.
Even casual rap fans couldn’t help but get embroiled in the back and forth between Kendrick and Drake, and as ugly as some of it was, it made “Not Like Us” all the more satisfying. It put an end to the sorry business, but also had Kendrick creating a track that will go down in the history books. “I see dead people,” he whispers at the start. His opponent is truly expired, slain from the get-go. He’s already dead, but how we love to see the soil pile up. – Ray Finlayson
3.
Adrianne Lenker – “Sadness As A Gift”
[4AD]
The delicate dance between grief and the painstaking acceptance that may come with it is a spectacle that weighs unbearably in the pit of our stomachs on Adrianne Lenker’s “Sadness As A Gift”. “It’s time to let go,” Lenker sings with a fragility that embraces finality as a universal truth—a truth as heartbreaking as it is comforting. This duality is amplified by the song’s pensive atmosphere, so richly restrained and reflective that listening feels like observing the seasons change from below. It’s the sound of time’s relentless passage, slowed to a reflective crawl — what a gut-punch of catharsis. – Kyle Kohner
2.
Chappell Roan – “Good Luck, Babe!”
[Amusement/Island]
What a rise to fame Chappell Roan has had in 2024. All the hits from her debut album The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess (and by god there are hits aplenty to choose from) have found a new lease of life this year, making those who missed her first time round feel foolish for not paying proper attention when the album initially dropped.
It was “Good Luck, Babe!” that truly cemented her place at the top, though. Her only new song of the year is such an impeccable pop masterpiece that it made all those aforementioned singles worthy of getting a (well-earned) victory lap. Not only does “Good Luck, Babe!” showcase her transcendent vocals skills (Kate Bush would surely be proud, if not a little jealous), it does so without compromising her style. It’s another queer anthem for the masses that speaks to the problematic erasure of bi-sexual identity and experience.
The emotions are dizzyingly high at the song’s peaks, the chorus amping up with each syllable, strings weeping alongside Roan in the second verse, and the earth seemingly falling out from under our feet before the final chorus kicks in. So powerful is “Good Luck, Babe!” that it has to slow itself down at the end, warping and modulating as the world stops turning. It knows its power and that listeners need a moment to exit safely. But as soon as we’re off, we’re back on again, ready again for a song that never tires – even as the playcount rises. – Ray Finlayson
1.
Waxahatchee – “Right Back To It”
[ANTI-]
After seemingly breaking through pretty big with her last album, Saint Cloud, it would have been easy to sort of count on Waxahatchee (aka Katie Crutchfield) resting on her laurels a bit. Not so, though, with 2024’s Tigers Blood, her best album yet, full of sharp lyrics, a deft hand with melody, and more robust and varied instrumentation. Nowhere is this one-upping-herself more evident than on lead single, “Right Back to It”.
Featuring guitar from MJ Lenderman, “Right Back to It” is, at first, a surprising choice for a lead single to what is ostensibly an alt-country folk-rock record. It’s mid-paced, bittersweet, has two instrumental breaks, and feels less crunchy and in-your-face than a lot of Crutchfield’s earlier more lo-fi work. But the song is truly a work of magic. The melody is instantly memorable, its verses ending with Crutchfield’s voice in curlicues of her higher register, before a chorus that’s as sticky as sap takes over. “I let my mind run wild / I don’t know why I do it” she sings, with Lenderman’s weary harmonies backing her up. It’s a touching song lyrically, an astonishing song melodically, with a moving vocal you can get totally lost in.
It’s shocking, perhaps, that even now, after all she’s done and accomplished, Crutchfield has released the best song of her career on the best album of her career. But here we are, and I have a feeling we’ll keep going back to it again and again for a very long time. – Jeremy J. Fisette
Listen to a Spotify playlist of our Top 50 Songs of 2024 here.
Check out our Top 50 Albums of 2023 tomorrow.
