2024: Best Songs (So Far)

Mustang - Kings of Leon

Fuck you the new Kings of Leon is good.

It has been strange to see the former Pentecostal boys go from one of the most ragged, lust-filled rock acts in the states to corporate America’s safest band. Thank god they refound the Holy Roller Novocaine that made them Tennessee’s sluttiest export for “Mustang.” Over a guitar crunch that evolves into an arena sized chorus, lead hollerer Caleb Followill screams about an ongoing dissociation, images flashing before him like burning pages fluttering out of a fire. Turns out, unhinged is a good look for the boys. 

Cold Reactor - Everything Everything

Everything Everything’s newest, Mountainhead, is their most pop-accessible, despite the bugnuts narrative connecting the songs. “Cold Reactor” is the best balance between the two extremes, a song as catchy as prime New Order and glued together by Jonathan Higgs’ characteristically brilliant vocals. The band blasts through the story of some future civilization yearning to create a new tower of Babel by hollowing out the earth around them. The titular reactor is a hypothetical energy source from nuclear fusion at room temperature; but don’t worry, both the excavation and the fission work as devastating metaphors for a relationship torn apart by an ever-growing distance. More pop songs should work as brilliant short stories.

The Notary - Mister Goblin 

“I wanna be a notary, so somebody somewhere will always need me,” coos Mister Goblin, before deciding he’d actually like to be a library. This isn’t some lark, but a serious, deeply-felt wish. Wrapped in a sweeping, late ‘90s alt rock jam, Mister Goblin, by accident or genius or both, made a low-key socialist and community anthem. The notary is always helpful, in a background sense, the library is a perfect node for a growing community in need of a physical space. But, Mister Goblin should remember that making a song like this—as warm and oddly charming as it is—is another piece of that empathetic puzzle.

Classical - Vampire Weekend

After their flat as year old soda record Father of the Bride (make the Grateful Dead illegal), Columbia nerds Vampire Weekend took a break and regrouped to refind their comfort zone. Thank god that area is some of the most baroque and stately indie-pop ever produced. Erza Koening once again finds his lyrical voice, equally sweet and sardonic as he skewers power players and dishes one of his finest insults “A staircase up to nothingness inside your DNA.”

Nobodies - Gumshoes

French philosopher Albert Camus stated that in this absurd, meaningless life, man must revolt and riot against the universe. And art was one of the finest ways to take a torch to existence. Gumshoes heartily agrees. His album Cacophony follows the weirdos and burnouts from a failed ‘90s punk band, all reflecting on industry and artistry in their own absurd ways. But the protagonist of “Nobodies,” over a motherfucking delightful piano vamp, demands we commit arson. It’s hard to tell if Sam Sparks (the myth behind Gumshoes) is sarcastic or not on the chorus as he rattles off a laundry list of anxieties that don’t matter because nobody is paying attention. There’s some acid in the chords, but there’s also freedom in the fire. (Interview)

Scurvy - Kali

Pirate-dubstep is a gimmick. Obviously. Surely?

UK producer Kali, whether on a dare or simply binging Spongebob, decided to make some nautical nonsense. “Scurvy” rides a synthesized accordion line that ripples with unease as the bass below sinks to abyssal depths.

Anima - Breathe - Alina Bzhezhinska and Tony Kofi Breathe

I was just going to write JAZZ HARP and quite a few of you, rightly, would’ve said aye aye cap’n and understood. But the duo of Alina Bzhezhinska and Tony Kofi deserve a bit more than that. “Anima - Breathe” is a space age, deeply romantic jam all balanced on fluttering harp and soulful sax. Much like Nala Sinephro’s cosmic jazz charmer Space 1.8, Alina and Tony are here to lounge and beautify.

GASOLINE - I AM THE INTIMIDATOR 

I like my metal either with a PhD or dumb enough to eat paste. I AM THE INTIMIDATOR, caps lock and all, fits the second category with ease. “Gasoline” bursts forth with an amazing chorus “BETTER PUMP THE GASOLINE MOTHERFUCKER” over a riff that churns like an engine fueled by Four Loko.

Right Back to it - Waxahatchee

Waxahatchee’s ride or die love of ‘90s country was never in doubt. And she did fully immerse herself in the era when she invited Wyona Judd to sing on her (up til then) biggest hit “Lilacs.” But “Right Back to it” points to another pre-Y2K group: The Chicks. With slowhand guitar from MJ Lenderman (and flawless harmonies), Katie Cruchfield breathes warmth and sorrow into “Right Back to it.” “You just settle in/Like a song with no end,” she sings on the chorus, and, as repeatable as the song is, “Right Back to it” may never end.

New Air - Ben Seretan

Ever get a few minutes into a song, look at the runtime, realize you’ve still got a full odyssey in front of you and go “hell yeah motherfucker.” That is the core essence of Ben Seretan’s towering “New Air.” Despite being mostly known as an ambient guy, Seretan, on a lark it seems, crafted a monolithic rock track, full of guitar squalls, crunchy production and an eerie build that should be selling out stadiums. A hypothetical new Guitar Hero game has its final track.

Hey Kekule - Font

Austin maniacs have come out swinging with their debut album. All clattering percussion and anxiety wrapped taut and tense.

Soft Axe - Saintseneca

Now, is the Christmas Tree as metaphor for an abusive relationship explicit in this wondrous folk tune? Or am I creating a narrative so Saintseneca’s cooing sorrow doesn’t fucking destroy me? Who can tell.  

Dracula - Cindy Lee

If you’re going to make a daring, two-hour long, indie-pop experiment, don’t forget the most important ingredient: the grooves. Cindy Lee’s Diamond Jubilee is a wild ride even ignoring the runtime. But “Dracula,” slinks and lounges with the best funk tunes. Built on ice-scrapper guitar and spidery bass, “Dracula” could’ve come out of mid-70s New Orleans, all sweat and dread.

The Fuck Drake Quartet - Kendrick Lamar

Ok the thing is, Kendrick was right. About everything. His first salvo “Like That” was his disgust at being mentioned near J. Cole, who makes conscious rap for Freshman philosophy majors, and Drake–who we’ll get to. Once the Canadian pop star took exception, K Dot unloaded a gatling gun of disses. The relaxed, yet vicious “Euphoria” was followed by the truly horrific “Meet the Grahams” closed by the finishing blow “Not Like Us.” “Meet the Grahams” was a complete psychological breakdown of Drake and a grand reminder that the whisper network fluttering around Aubrey Graham has him, at best, as a perpetual creep. The best part was Kendrick taking the pop crown right off of Drake’s decapitated head with “Not Like Us,” already the certified song of the summer. “Tryin’ to strike a chord and it’s probably a minoooooooooooor” will be the most quoted line of the year. Considering Drake responded with silence then a pseudo cover of goddamn “Hey There Deliah,” I think we can safely call it on this beef. Flawless victory.

Like I Say (Runaway) - Nilüfer Yanya

The ‘90s are dead, long live the ‘90s! Of course, the best influence snatchers know how to combine a wide variety of tastes. Nilufer Yanya matches a shuddering groove and runaway bride narrative from Liz Phair and hammers home a Smashing Pumpkins sized chorus with enough downtuned guitars to make a sludge band blush.