Best Songs of 2024
Out of 243 of my favorite songs from 2024, here are my favorite four.
Now that 2024 is over, I can finally make a proper "Best Songs" list — especially seeing as one of my favorite songs was officially released on Christmas.
I kept this Spotify playlist all throughout the year on my favorite songs. Because I listen to an inordinate amount of music, there are 243 songs on the list, and I stand by all of them.
That said, I'm happy to share my four favorite songs of the year — all of which are on Bandcamp, one of which is not on streaming at all.
Cindy Lee — "Kingdom Come"
I've been following Cindy Lee since Pat Flagel's project began in the early-ish '10s. When I got an email from the artist's mailing list to go to a goofy Geocities-like site and cough up $20 for the new record, I did so immediately. I did not, however, think such a prospect would catch on like wildfire and go viral simply because it's an atypical album release.
2 hours is a lot for an album, but not for a Cindy Lee album. I remember listening to both records they put out in 2020 and wanting more, which was delivered here — albeit four years later. It's hard to pick a favorite song on the record, but "Kingdom Come" is the one I keep coming back to because it sounds like a demented outsider Brian Wilson cut in the best possible way.
SRL
DJ Sabrina the Teenage DJ — "In Silence"
Like SAULT, DJ Sabrina the Teenage DJ is probably my favorite thing to look forward to each year, as her releases are consistent, shrouded in mystery (though it's not terribly hard to deduce the real person behind the moniker), and different each time. Half plunderphonics, half upbeat house, Sabrina's hours-long mixes are my default soundtrack to every party I've thrown for the last several years.
Recently, however, Sabrina's sung tracks — ones not using extensive vocal samples, as is her MO for a lot of work — are among the most underrated things in music today. "In Silence," like Hex — one of two albums released in 2024 — took some time to grow on me. In the end, like the cover of the actual single, it's Sabrina's Kate Bush-like attempt at a quasi-experimental pop hit — and it lands quite well.
nj01
Fucked Up — "I Took My Mom To Sleep ft. Tuka Mohammed"
Fucked Up is one of my all-time favorite bands, full stop. I've seen them nearly more than any other band, had my first date with my wife to one of their concerts, and spent my first day back in NYC after college seeing them. They evolve with each record, but started early in their career as a revolutionary band that ran circles around any other (hardcore) punk band. As someone who grew up on Husker Du, seeing the logical next evolution keep evolving over 20+ years is a true treat.
With 2018's Dose Your Dreams, the band began to diversify by occasionally considering what their sound would be like without the constant screaming vocals of S-tier frontman Damien Abraham. Damien's vocals are a critical part of the band, making albums like The Chemistry of Common Life one of the greatest records of all time. Yet when the rest of the band started inviting guest vocalists (and providing vocals of their own), it brought a new dimension and new possibilities to the band I love.
The band is three-quarters through a high-concept series of albums where they conceive of and record an entire album in a day. Last year saw the release of Another Day and Someday (along with the 24-hour-only Who's Got the Time & A Half?), featuring vocals from Abraham, guitarist and songwriter Mike Haliechuk, and a bevy of guests. "I Took My Mom To Sleep" features vocals from the little-known Tuka Mohammed, a sweet yet sharp contrast to Abraham and company, complete with wordless multi-part harmonies to create one of my favorite songs by the band in a decade. If you're not familiar with the group, it's worth starting from the beginning and seeing exactly how they got here, because it simultaneously makes perfect sense and seems absolutely insane, in theory.
alfayate
SAULT — "Pray for Me"
In December of 2023, the enigmatic SAULT threw their first concert — a multi-stage affair that cost infinitely more than the sum of ticket sales. It proved that project is a labor of love for producer Inflo and his wife, Cleo Sol. Thus, it's no surprise when, at said event, it was revealed that SAULT stands for "Start a Universal Love Trend."
As a not-terribly-religious person myself, SAULT's gradual progression into sprinklings of religious joy across twelve albums would, on paper, be something that could deter me from continuing. This was not the case at all for two reasons:
One, the "God" spoken of is, implicitly and explicitly, one of love. (See "God is Love".) Not a Christian God, or explicit detailings of devotion to Jesus, but the idea and acknowledgment of something of which it is to say "this exists, but so does love, and life is pretty great regardless of what you do or don't believe in."
Second, the sheer amount of artists I adore talking about God in the same or even more explicit and devotional terms has not deterred me previously. Stevie Wonder comes to mind. So does Brian Wilson. There are probably at least a hundred devotional songs I can think of at the top of my head that are absolute "bangers" and among the greatest songs recorded.
SAULT's Acts of Faith was randomly released by the band on WeTransfer over the summer after premiering live last December. It is now on streaming platforms, albeit with a few edits (perhaps for rights reasons?), and ends conclusively with "Pray for Me" — a standout track, exclamation point to the twenty-plus minutes that come before it, and one of the band's best songs to date.
Yes, the singer (Cleo Sol) is singing explicitly about their faith and devotion to God, but also their worries about personal growth in the face of faith (or lack thereof). It is also a truly beautiful song that, if released explicitly and publicly 20-40 years ago, would be one of the most popular songs in existence today.
SAULT's music, among other things, has made me reevaluate my own faith, of which I've discussed before — that is, the belief in something that defies known science, that I will never understand, and though I may not devote my life to it, helps me acknowledge that I don't and won't know everything, and that's okay. Less God and more "not nothing." Yet the idea of acknowledging this thing, with such beautiful melody, calling it whatever you want, is truly remarkable.
kittog
You can find the greater Best of 2024 Spotify playlist below.
For what it's worth, Clairo's Charm was my favorite record of last year.