Crate-digging into the cannon of music history, some of the year's most exciting songwriters and musicians tell us about the music they fell for in 2024.
Because we all know that some of the best music you discover each year rarely comes from the last twelve months, we asked some of our favourite artists – including Chanel Beads, Lip Critic, Medium Build, Hinds, Benefits and Hinako Omori – to tell us about the older music that found its way into their hearts – from Pentangle, Scrritti Politti and Robert Palmer, to Freddie Mercury, Crowbar and Tammy Wynette.
Pentangle by Sofia Wolfson
Starting Point: Reflection (1971)
Best Song: “Wedding Dress”
Not only was Pentangle a band I hadn’t dug into before this year, they were a band I’d never even heard of. I wish I could take credit for the discovery, but I was introduced to them by Blue Ranger’s Josh Marre. The playlist Josh sent me was full of familiar comforts like the Costello/Bacharach collaboration and the cinematic Twain ballad “Inner Beauty.” But then I came upon a song I’d never heard before. It had the quality of an old trad tune (in fact, it is) in its melodic movement, its driving, jangly acoustic guitars, which brought me right back to growing up at LA’s Largo where I attended monthly folk and bluegrass shows as a kid. But then enter these driving, grooving, choked and strange drums that almost seem to be fighting the rest of the band until everything locks together, or rather, melts. I let the whole song play out on the Brooklyn-bound B train before I looked to see what it was, hesitant to break the spell I was under by assigning names and faces. After a full listen, I immediately put it on again to find it was Pentangle’s “Wedding Dress.”
On first listen, I was completely hypnotized by the feel of it, the way the arrangement kind of collapses in on itself, the drums sputtering wildly until they’re fully grooving, the voices and layered harmonies dancing in and out of each other. It reminded me of how I felt watching The Last Waltz as a kid, entranced by how musicians co-create tempo and sonic movement together. I was also totally transfixed by Jacqui McShee’s voice, which skirts this beautiful line between angelic and forward; she sings with a sort of ethereal belt. When I got home that night, I naturally did an internet deep dive and only fell for the band more through live videos, Jacqui McShee’s nonchalant stare punctuating the songs. There’s also a beautifully re-harmed Sam Amidon cover of “Wedding Dress.”
Pentangle, the British 5-piece (get it, pentangle) formed in ‘67, followed by decades of Fleetwood Mac-esque splits and reunions, has been the soundtrack to my second autumn in Brooklyn. I have found a certain comfort in their records I haven’t felt since I was first immersed in 60s/70s folk rock as a kid. Growing up, The Band and Joni Mitchell and Emmylou Harris records sounded and felt in my body totally antithetical to the on-the-grid, compressed pop music of the early 00s (don’t get me wrong, I love that shit too). I’m a fan of Pentangle’s whole catalog, even the later iterations and reunions of the band, their original music and their interpretations of traditional songs, but the early albums have a certain dynamic magic to them.
In the early days of my love affair with Reflection, I was stubbornly mad at my Pentangle blind spot. Howhad I gone my whole life totally unaware of them? But now I know they came to me right when they were supposed to, providing a specific comfort needed in this bizarre year.
Purrkur Pillnikk by The Vaccines' Árni Hjörvar
Starting Point: Ekki Enn (1981)
Favourite song: “Ekki Enn”
The release of Ghostigital's Laus Skrúfa, their first since 2015, was a humbling moment that reminded me of their chaotic genius—and Einar Örn's in particular. The Icelandic noise duo Ghostigital, is a collaboration between former Sugarcubes frontman Einar and the experimental audio annihilator Curver. It is glitchy mind fuckery in all it's glory with Einar’s signature raw and mildly senseless vocals at the centre of it all. It’s irresistable stuff.
Einar’s been pushing the boundaries for well over 40 years by now. Purrkur Pillnikk, Einar's first band, pretty much single handedly shaped the Icelandic underground scene in the early eighties and paved the way for experimental acts to come. When the Purrkur Pillnikk box set dropped in late 2023, I obviously snatched it up right away, but it wasn’t until Laus Skrúfa arrived that I fully revisited their madness and brilliance.
Einar’s chaotic unpredictability and general fuck you attitude were a key influence on me as a teenager. He taught us to approach language with fearless abandon and embrace the chaos. In November, my band, The Vaccines, performed in Iceland. We'd rehearsed a version of Purrkur Pillnikk’s “Ekki Enn” and in a seriously strange turn of events, he joined us on stage for the performance of said song. Standing on stage with screaming 40 year old lyrics with my teenage hero felt like everything had come full circle—from a mild obsession with his art to a shared moment that I won’t forget any time soon.
Lubomyr Melnyk by Hinako Omori
Starting Point: The Dreamers Ever Leave You (2018)
Best Song: "Cloud-Passade Nr.3"
I recently came across pianist and composer Lubomyr Melnyk’s work for the first time through Kae, who told me about his residency at Cafe Oto in June this year - I instantly went into deep-dive mode before the show and quickly became transfixed in his world.
This album in particular is a soundtrack for a ballet co-produced by the Art Gallery of Ontario and The National Ballet of Canada. Inspired by Canadian modernist painter Lawren Harris, a member of the art collective "Group of Seven" well known for his landscape paintings, and choreographed by Robert Pinet, the video clips I’ve been able to find online of the ballet are so deeply emotive, bringing to life Lawren’s vision of the abundant nature in Canada.
Lubomyr’s score for the ballet is full of beautiful cascading piano loops, reminding me of the ocean and its continuously rolling waves, or a cushion of rolling clouds drifting high up in the sky - it feels transcendental and ever-evolving, with no beginning or end. Lubomyr’s spiritual approach to creating music feels in total alignment with the spiritual nature of Lawren’s paintings. I really love this quote from one of the documentaries about him that I watched online - “i feel the most freedom when i’m playing the piano” … “continuous music requires the pianist to think and to live the music - and in living the music, that is where the freedom lies.” I also love the timeless typography design of the cover artwork.
It was such a magical experience seeing Lubomyr perform live - the sense of physical time paused completely - the effortless mastery, and hypnotic motifs which continue to expand and morph - and before we realised, we’d been transported back to the starting point as if not even a second had passed. I’d just come back home after a few weeks of touring, and it was the perfect reenergizing remedy for my mind. It’s an experience I’ll hold very close to my heart.
Stream stillness, softness... (extended dream transition) by Hinako Omari
Robert Palmer by Ray Suen
Starting Point: Clues (1980)
Best Song: "Jonny and Mary"
One of my more persistent teenage memories is of watching VH1 in the late 90’s and rolling my eyes at its insistence that I should pay deep reverence to the music videos of Aha, Genesis, Madonna, Aerosmith and, god help me, the fucking Buggles. With every countdown of the “most important music videos of all time” I learned to despise the style, the synths, the sights and sounds of the 80’s. And none of those countdowns seemed to ever be complete without Robert Palmer’s Addicted to Love with its empty sentiment and even emptier stares of the models pantomiming as a band in the video. In my youthful intransigence, I opted to pretend like he never even existed.
Imagine my surprise, some twenty years later, when I found myself frantically stopping to see what brilliant new wave gem had been recommended to me by some useful little algorithm only to discover that it was the same empty man singing about the domestic ennui of Johnny and Mary. Listening to Robert Palmer’s take on New Wave on his 1980 album Clues left me wondering if I actually knew anything about the genre at all. Something about the specific balance of shine and grit, atmosphere and airlessness and, not least of all, Palmer’s clearly virtuosic but coolly removed vocal has left me reexamining his influence, if any, on the music that followed the rest of the decade.
I’m still making my way through my Robert Palmer reappraisal journey. Reading about the sessions for his first album, Sneakin' Sally Through the Alley has endeared him to me even further. Any number of times throughout my career have I felt what I imagine to be the same nervousness about being around legendary musicians (in his case The Meters and the members of Stuff) and learning to love the music from a culture not intrinsically my own the way Palmer did listening to American Forces Radio as a child growing up on naval bases. But as I continue on, I keep returning to Clues and wondering if it was some kind of inflection point that never was, if it was the world’s loss that it seemed to prefer the certainty of being addicted to love.
Freddie Mercury by Benefits' Kingsley Hall
Starting Point: Mr Bad Guy (1985)
Best song: “Mr Bad Guy”
I think most people in the UK have some sort of relationship with Freddie Mercury and Queen, even now 33 years after his death. Mine started with trying to record my dad’s CD of “Greatest Hits 1” onto a tape for my Walkman. My dad had a moustache like Freddie in the 80s, a lot of dads did, I probably thought he was him when I was very young, possibly why I liked them. I don’t think I listened to any other album until I was in my teens, I certainly wasn’t aware that the band did any other songs, let alone a Freddie solo album. You grow up, you move onto other bands and discover new heroes. The ones you loved as a child become almost an embarrassment.
However, every now and then, nostalgia hits. Maybe it’s yearning for lost youth, a look back at a more innocent time. It could even be grief. My dad passed away two years ago, and I’ve found myself listening to music I associate with him more and more. I discovered Freddie’s 1985 solo album Mr Bad Guy at the start of this year. It was in my collection, but I’d never listened to it. I’m pretty sure I bought a cheap copy of it about a decade ago as I thought the cover would make a good sleeveface photo. Finally listening to it was revelatory. It’s messy but fearless. The plastic pop nature of most of the songs is immediately infectious but then Mercury throws in wild curveballs like a symphonic orchestra to bolster up the lonely egomania of the title song. It shouldn’t hit on any emotional level whatsoever, it’s all utterly ludicrous, impenetrable megastar nonsense. But for whatever reason – reminiscence, debauchery, grief - in 2024 it all hits me like a steam train and I’m glad to have it in my life.
Benefits new album Constant Noise is released on 21 March 2025
Tammy Wynette by Anna Shoemaker
Starting Point: Tears Of Fire: The 25th Anniversary Collection (1964)
Favourite Song: “Stand By Your Man”
The past six months, I’ve been obsessed with Tammy Wynette. I was listening to some older Johnny Cash and George Jones, and then a duet with George Jones and Tammy Wynette (“Take Me”) came on and I went down a whole YouTube hole of her. To me, the thing that really strikes me is that there’s this pain in her voice. In “Stand By Your Man,” she doesnot want to stand by that man – it’s the last thing she wants to do. At the time, she got a lot of backlash for putting out that song, but she was in an interview and was like: “That’s not what I meant at all.” She had this old-fashioned view of love that was just so big and beautiful and really cool to me.
She has this really unique tone that is definitely an acquired taste. A lot of country music at that time was really polished, if you think about Dolly Parton or her peers. Tammy Wynette, to me, is more of a Johnny Cash, it’s more of an: “I’m singing about my life. I’m not polished. I’m not a character.” Sometimes it goes beyond the lyrics. You can hear how she’s feeling in her voice – it sounds like she’s about to cry half the time.
This year I was extremely down bad. I was going through a breakup, I didn’t have an apartment for like eight months. I had a rental car, and I was in L.A. for the summer driving around, looking for apartments, going to sessions, and I would just listen to Tammy Wynette. She went through so much. She just kept going. She was getting a divorce, and then she was married to George Jones, who was an alcoholic. As I was trying to figure out my life, I was really only listening to her.
I liked that she was just focused on her career. She took herself really seriously at a time when women were expected to be mothers. She was just focused on her art, it seems, and herself. It’s cool to see, for someone like that. And also she’s just a brilliant writer. She said she wrote “Stand By Your Man” in, like, 15 minutes, which is crazy.
Scritti Politti by Chanel Beads
Starting Point: Scritti Politti (1988)
Best Song: “All That We Are”
Perfect music for flexing your core. Scritti Politti finally started making sense to me a few years ago. But this year, the song “All That We Are” really got in my brain. Of course, the lyrics sound really creepy, but that’s the laziest way to listen to the song. It’s not a promise and it’s not a threat: “Somewhere the forces of love come to disagree.” It feels like true apophatic transcendence in pop music. Every time I listen to it I wag my finger: “No, this can’t be allowed.” Great on repeat.
Folk Rabe by Anastasia Coope
Starting point: What?? (2013)
Favourite song: “What??”
A few years ago (maybe four?) a friend recommended What?? by Folke Rabe to me. The record is 1 hour and 17 minutes long – made up of only two songs, “What??” and “What?? (2)” – and feels to me like stages of space travel. The music moves in steps and draws a severe focus out of me.
For a year straight, I listened to it nearly every evening before bed. My understanding of it is influenced by the halfway place between sleep and wake that I inhabited while listening.
I have one memory of listening to What??(my second or third listen) out of a small speaker that I had placed right over the head of my bed atop a radiator. It was a listening experience that shifted a few things around in my mind about how I fundamentally experience sound- around the same time I was reading Poetics of Music by Stravinsky. Those two in conjunction made my awareness feel heightened.
About two weeks ago, I came back from three months on the road, playing the songs from my record and a couple more. Each show, I revealed more and more to myself that my engagement with my old material happens through how I utilize my voice- how it feels to hold sound in my body, what vocal runs have conviction and which are boring or ditzy, how a one to two percent difference in how a note is delivered can be a grand ravine between good and bad. What?? has been a mentor to me these past few years and has been important to my more focused singing and playing.
Crowbar by Lip Critic’s Danny Eberle
Starting Point: Crowbar (2010)
Favourite Track: “...and Suffer as One”
A band that I got deeply into this year is the New Orleans sludge metal band Crowbar. Although I was familiar with their music in the past, I never gave their full discography a listen and honestly I highly regret that. I have found Crowbar to be one of the most consistent, and consistently heavy bands, I’ve ever heard.
Their music is probably the heaviest I’ve heard, stylistically and lyrically. Their fusion of early New York Hardcore and doom metal still sounds fresh to this day, with songs that are incredibly slow and brooding yet muscular and worthy of some karate in the pit (that’s right, metalheads). Although they are technically a metal band, they satisfy my simple hardcore brain need for both chunky and memorable riffs, as well as lyrics that are relatable and oftentimes devastating.
Back in April, around the time I was doing a deep dive of their discography, I was lucky enough to see them perform on a boat in New York City. You read that right… a boat! The boat had to hold at most 100 people and they played on the floor directly in front of us. They looked like they were having as much fun as everyone in the crowd, as the boat quite literally rocked from side to side. Musically, they sounded perfect and played a career-spanning set. The set was so heavy we thought the boat was gonna sink (bad dad joke). A great starting point for this band would be their self-titled sophomore album, though my favorite track of theirs is “…and Suffer as One.”
Ted Lucas by Hinds' Anna Perrote
Starting Point: Ted Lucas (1975)
Best Song: "It’s So Easy (When You Know What You’re doing)"
I discovered Ted Lucas last year in Los Angeles. We were there filming a music video well over our budget so we were crashing at friends’ houses during our stay. This day, we woke up at our friend’s Justin Camilli in Silverlake. When we went downstairs for coffee, this vinyl was playing in the background. Me and CC (my bandmate) spent 3 minutes patiently listening to whatever our friend was telling us, trying to repress the urge of asking him: “WHAT IS THAT SOUND IN THE BACKGROUND ??! I LOVE IT.”
This album is his only studio album, and there isn’t much information about him online. I know he used to be a live and Motown session musician, and a pretty successful one. He toured with bands like Black Sabbath, The Eagles or Frank Zappa, and he recorded guitars on albums for The Supremes, Stevie Wonder and more.
I can listen to this whole record from start to finish on loop. It’s nostalgic but not sad. It’s simple and warm. It gives me peace. I love, love, love his voice and the way he doubles his vocals – I feel like I’m a baby bird sleeping in a nest.
Suzanne Vega by Juanita Stein
Starting Point: Solitude Standing (1987)
Best song: "Marlene On The Wall"
I’ve always been aware of Suzanne Vega, like a coral hued shade of the dusky sky. Subtle, beautiful, not explosive. It was only when I bought a copy of her 1987 album ‘Solitude Standing’ at a vintage store in Stockholm, that I really got sucked in.
Immediately struck down and captivated by her body of work. Naturally I was led to her other albums, I was aware of her more popular songs like Toms Diner and Luka, but I then discovered songs like ‘Headshots’ and ‘In Liverpool’… I would say I was more conscious of channeling her music than anyone’s on my new album and this song in particular. The bridge inspired the instrumentation on my track Daily Rituals.
She’s all together rhythmic, melodic, lonesome and mystical. Such a rare commodity in a world where revealing every little thing about yourself is the way. Her energy is what I’m attracted to in art and creativity.
New Music for Electronic and Recorded Media by Penelope Trappes
Starting Point: Women in Electronic Music (1977)
Best Song: "Music of the Spheres" by Johanna Beyer
For some time now I have been immersing myself in discovering the women pioneers of electronic music - those who challenged societal expectations. The more I do, I begin to unravel my own perceptions of creativity in the explorations of their sounds. Their punk ethos inspires me to destroy all of the structures that I grew up with, the societal norms that prevented me from accessing the bravery of these composers. They're incredibly inspiring!
The piece I keep returning to is "Music of the Spheres" by Johanna Beyer. I am acutely entranced and haunted by it. Intended to be the opening to a sprawling four-act opera titled Status Quo, it was written for three “electrical” instruments – the specific type not determined and informed by the uncontrollable state of technology’s breathless pace of development. In 1938, then unknown, Johanna wrote a score that was so historically on point for her time that it accurately predicted the future state of society and humanity - yet she never got to see it performed. She was a private piano teacher living in poverty with no social influence and no funding, living in a landscape she found hostile and alien. It’s super minimal and creates a distinct unease and strangeness, evoking the unfamiliar, otherworldly sonic landscape that sends me into a complete trance, spinning into space and beyond concepts of time. how many other stories like this have we lost?
Arun Ghosh by Kathryn Williams
Starting point: A South Asian Suite (2013)
Best song: "The Gypsies Of Rajasthan"
As a melancholic singer songwriter that mainly co-writes as a lyricist, it may seem odd I’m an advocate for an instrumental track. This uplifting song could have muppets doing a Hollywood dance scene with thousands of extras.
“The Gypsies of Rajasthan”, the opening track from the 2013 album A South Asian Suite by Arun Ghosh has been my go-to song of the year. My husband introduced it to the family on a playlist for a sunrise car trip in Morocco in April. The brightening blue sky heating up over terracotta square houses like a Paul Klee painting waking up. Deepening colours, spices int the air, twisted cacti taller than trees. This song matched scenery like the pairing of a meal with a great wine. The introduction lazily yawns, spiralling upwards, like a day dawning; it pauses and then joyously breaks into a rocking horse ride that busies itself as if filled with air and wings. In place of trepidation, the journey had an air of contentment, joy, and excitement. The melody returns, you find yourself humming and smiling along to it.
This album later became an accompaniment to my travels with Withered Hand for our UK tour. This time the scenery more green and wet yet still the album fitted the landscape and brought the same comfort and joy inside the car. Dan and I would sing along in a traffic jam or if it was getting stressful. It was a salve. We started asking for it to be our walk on track for stage and it felt like a lucky charm.
Stream Wilson Williams by Kathryn Williams and Withered Hand
Surface To Air Missive by Kate Bollinger
Starting Point: Surface To Air Missive (2013)
Favourite Song: “Return of Swan”
I liked some Surface To Air Missive songs when I was in high school, but I’ve been getting back into it mostly out of homesickness for Virginia. It’s my friend Jacob’s favorite band and reminds me a lot of hanging out with him and our friend Maddie in our hometown. It’s the project of this guy Taylor Ross, who played all of the instruments. Pop/rock, but with strange melodies and chord progressions. I’ve been listening to the song Return of Swan a lot. Mostly the albums Surface To Air Missive and A V.
Stream Songs from a Thousand Frames of Mind by Kate Bollinger
Hairdoctor by Kaktus Einarsson
Starting point: Shampoo (2005)
Best song: "My Big Eyes"
I first came across Hairdoctor in 2005 with their debut album, Shampoo. Little did I know back then, as a teenager, how much this music would affect me—or that it would still sing within me, when I would reconnect with the album 20 years later while curating a playlist for an Icelandic clothing brand, using only Icelandic music.
I’m not sure if it is underrated among Icelanders or not, but to me, this is the indie album. It was the first album I heard from this new wave of early 2000 DIY bedroom productions. It is witty, playful, and very gritty. The album is centred around Jón Atli’s (aka Sexy Lazer, aka Hairdoctor) songwriting, his acoustic guitar (played like it’s an electric guitar) and singing, alongside Árni (of FM Belfast) and his laptop. There’s a fantastic sense of creative urgency throughout the album. It’s both fun and cool at the same time, with a “let’s record this, put it on an album, and release it” attitude. That same energy carries through into the lyrics. The album closer, My Big Eyes stands out on the album as the ballad, while Major Label and Indian Princess are the “hits.”
There’s something so special about hearing music that is so raw—not because of an aesthetic choice, but because of the pure need to create, within the limitations of home recording equipment. As a teenager, I was hugely inspired by Hairdoctor. Today, I can confidently say that I still am.
Nourished By Time by Elias Rønnenfelt
Starting Point: Catching Chickens (2024)
Best Song: "Poison Soaked"
Sometimes music catches you at the right time, becomes a new high, something you chase over and over again. There's a feeling there you wish to ride and the moment is always too short so you play it again. Nourished By Time's Catching Chicken EP recently became that. I'd repeat it half to death walking through airports, public transportation or walking through the city at night. It's the kind of shit that makes you swing your arms and dance with yourself on an empty street, equally devastating and uplifting all at once.
MJ Lenderman by Katy J Pearson
Starting Point: Manning Fireworks (2024)
Best Song: "Wristwatch"
My favourite album of 2024 would have to be MJ Lenderman and his album Manning Fireworks. I first heard of MJ Lenderman and this album through my friend, who recommended I give it a listen as he thought it was up my street. Boy, was he RIGHT.
From the first listen, I was hooked. The track Wristwatch quickly became a personal favourite—I’ve played it over and over, and it never gets old. The whole album is filled with brilliant songwriting that stays with you long after it’s finished. It reminds me a bit of Neil Young when he went electric. There’s a rawness and authenticity to it, with inventive and quirky lyrics that showcase great storytelling.
The production really cradles the songs well too and letting them breathe while keeping a sense of intimacy. There’s a balance between the grit and polish that feels just right, giving the songs space to shine without overcomplicating them.
Being in the middle of a tour of Europe and the UK, this album was pretty much the soundtrack of the trip. We had it playing on repeat in the van, and by the end of the tour, the whole band was obsessed too. There’s a magnetic quality to this record that draws you in—it’s the kind of album that keeps revealing new layers with each listen, making it impossible to put down.
Wristwatch might be my personal highlight, but honestly, the entire album feels like a cohesive journey. MJ Lenderman has crafted something truly special, and I can’t recommend it enough. If you haven’t listened to Manning Fireworks yet, I’d highly recommend it.Confidentiality notice: The information contained in this communication from the sender is confidential. It is intended solely for use by the recipient and other authorized to receive it. If you are not the recipient, you are hereby notified that any disclosure, copying, distribution or taking action in relation of the contents of this information is strictly prohibited and may be unlawful. If this e-mail and its attachments have come to you in error, please reply to this e-mail and highlight the error to the sender and then immediately delete the message. All rights remain reserved.
ML Buch by Medium Build's Nicholas Carpenter
Starting Point: Skinned (2020)
Best Song: "Can't Get Over You With You"
In my current life there is not one artist I adore more than ML Buch. Her music feels like a comfort blanket of warmth, tone and emotion. Her first album, Skinned, is a synth driven collection of anxiety bops that I listened to on every flight for two years cuz it would ease my insanity. Then after almost 3 years of silence Buch came back with ‘Suntub’, a guitar focused record drenched in melancholy summertime. The artist’s voice is so strong that even when equipped with different tools, the sound feels so uniquely her.
I would recommend starting with 2020’s Skinned. I think the electro vibes will land for fans of Caroline Polachek, A.G.Cook, and Imogen Heap.
My personal fave tune is "Can’t Get Over You With You." The keys hit the 90s Nintendo nostalgia tones, but Buch talks about the inability to heal around the person they loved. It’s perfect. She’s perfect. The music is art. The shows are small and personal. Everyone should know ML Buch.
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