The Top 30 ALBUMS of 2024: Part Two (#11--20)...

 

Getting closer to the big reveal!

11. Doechii ALLIGATOR BITES NEVER HEAL: 

officially it’s a mixtape, but to my ears, Doechii’s Alligator Bites Never Heal—the title a nod to her Florida roots and to the theme of unresolved trauma—is the freshest rap album of the year, with an internal coherence that lodges it as a whole in the memory. I’m often down on the prevalence of therapy-speak in 2020s music, but the way that here it’s bounced off dirty-mouthed humor and classic hip-hop hungry ambition (as well as side-eye to narrow industry expectations of women in rap) makes it feel like part of a fully rounded self-portrait whose pace carries me through its 47 minutes in what feels like half the time. (SLATE)

 

12. Serpentwithfeet GRIP: 

an intensively-formed and executed batch of queer love stories.

 

13. Freddie Gibbs YOU ONLY DIE 1NCE: 

You Only Die 1nce is great, offering a lot for fans of Freddie Gibbs, and may reel the skeptics back in. It’s personal and finds ground in being real and relatable, giving us something new and refreshing, even if the description is rather loose. I found myself appreciating this album a lot, even with its small missteps, but it doesn’t fully derail the flow. It’s fluid and strong, and Gibbs sounds like the motor isn’t stopping anytime soon. Get on the Kane Train, because it’s always a topsy-turvy ride, but the highs are momentous. (THE WEEKLY COOS)

 

14. Kali Uchis ORQUIDEAS: 

Kali Uchis has a few things in mind on Orquídeas. First of all, she wants the world to know there’s no box or category to limit Latinas sonically. She bounces from icy R&B to bright merengue to liquefied dream pop. Second, the album balances a careful mix of power and vulnerability, adding complexity to notions of Latinas beyond stereotypes as lusty sirens or spicy firebrands. But Orquídeas is also loaded with sexual agency and bad-bitch energy. She’s bolder and more forthright than ever, diving deeper into new sounds and flourishing the entire way. (ROLLING STONE)

 

15. Tinashe QUANTUM BABY: 

Quantum Baby is a lean and muscular eight-song accompaniment to 2023’s BB/Ang3l that asserts itself with the insistence of manicured nails tapping on a hard surface: There are things to do and people to flip off. Opener “No Simulation” is a slinky almost-ballad that quickly announces itself as Brandy-inspired, courtesy of Tinashe’s dynamic vocal stacking. “These days I wanna feel it, no simulation/It’s gotta be true,” she croons. It sounds like she’s looking for real love—but then again, Tinashe is a comedic and peculiar storyteller (her one-liners in Two and a Half Men always landed), and when she pledges “to go deeper,” she might be giving more explicit directions. (PITCHFORK)

 

16. Brittany Howard WHAT NOW: 

the multi-instrumentalist and singer sets out to make a statement with this swinging set of funk, pop, soul, and rock tracks. Leaving behind the intimate storytelling of her debut, she lets the music take charge, showcasing her skill as an arranger with richly layered rhythms and melodies. The music never feels overstuffed though, its profusion in service of the searching writing, which often examines the fragility of love. Don’t dare ask her what next. (TIME)

 

17. Gallant ZINC: 

Zinc. boasts Gallant's hallmarks. "Monorail." burbles and sputters along, its submerged beat phasing in and out, as if it wants to break out into full-blown footwork. Electric guitar cascades on "Lucid.," while "Fly on the Wall." and "Sticks and Stones." are lightly dappled with acoustic guitar. And where Sweet Insomnia leaned heavily on guest features, including a career-standout collaboration with the iconic Brandy, Zinc. only makes room for one other, but it's an exquisite choice, too: London singer-songwriter-producer NAO. And of course, Gallant's signature falsetto remains as soul-stirring as ever. (EXCLAIM.CA)

 

18. The Lemon Twigs A DREAM IS ALL WE KNOW: 

‘A Dream Is All We Know’, the siblings’ mostly self-produced fifth studio album, sees them revel in Beach Boys harmonies and off-kilter melodies (think the Beatles when they were starting to get weird). Somehow, they manage to act as if all this has never been done before – and herein lies much of their appeal. At 25 and 27 respectively, Michael and Brian continue to harness an endearing naivety that carries you past any accusations of unoriginality. “The album’s aiming for something timeless,” Michael recently told Mojo, and it’s impressive how often this record lives up to that ambition. (NME)

 

19. Nadine Shah FILTHY UNDERNEATH:

 made in collaboration with her long-term writing partner Ben Hillier, it is also musically the most varied and exciting album the pair have made together. The opening “Even Light” is driven by an infectious and bouncing bassline that drills into the core of the song as Shah’s voice floats atop, while subtle electronics bubble away and brass-like synth stabs punctuate. It sets the tone for an album that is leaps and bounds above anything else Shah has done before – a record that’s layered and detailed, coated with beautifully rich production, yet also spacious and considered. (UNCUT)

 

20. Denzel Curry KING OF THE MISCHEVIOUS SOUTH  VOL. 2: 

Denzel is trying to strike a certain balance, create a particular vibe, and delivering something more complicated than this is not going to do that. He wants to give you something dark and intoxicating and cold-blooded, and he executes that perfectly with this understated near-monotone delivery with a slow tempo and wheezy, dusty horn samples droning in the background, the effect of which is absolutely positively hypnotic. And what's even greater is there's a very intense feature from That Mexican OT on the back end of the track where he is rolling his Rs like a motherfucker. Overall, I think this "BLACK FLAG FREESTYLE" pretty much lays out what you're in for on the rest of the record pretty clearly. (THE NEEDLE DROP)

The Top 30 ALBUMS of 2024: Part One (#21--30)...

 

An interesting year in album releases but it is a year that, no doubt, sets up next year rather tantalizingly. Here are my picks:

21. Vincent Staples DARK TIMES: 

Staples’ monotone voice used to dilute his more intense songs, but now he just sounds tired of having to read everything and everyone for an angle. After mapping out hip-hop toxicity over EDM and techno beats (made specifically for sync licensing) on Big Fish Theory and memorializing the California of his youth on his 2021 self-titled album and Ramona Park, who wouldn’t be? His insouciance still leads to great stories and affirmations of Black resilience, but what once registered as body blows now lands like a firm but loving grasp on the shoulder from an older relative.  (PITCHFORK)

 

22. Cindy Lee DIAMOND JUBILEE…: 

put aside, if you can, the anti-hype cycle around this extraordinary double album — the mysterious release as an unmarked YouTube link, the wild praise that followed from fans and critics hungry for anything that resembles a true underground phenomenon. What you’re left with is two hours of mind-melting low-fi gold, deftly interwoven with threads of psychedelia, funk, garage rock, torch songs, and AM melodies. Unfolding slowly with its own dream logic, Diamond Jubilee is a gem worth getting dazzled by. (ROLLING STONE)

 

23. Friko WHERE WE’VE BEEN…: 

despite its bullish title, Where we’ve been doesn’t scan as a monolithic statement of purpose, but rather a presumptive greatest-hits compilation. It’s no slight to say that it could be just as enjoyable on shuffle; nearly every song feels designed to either begin or end a live set, whether at SXSW, Schubas, or even Bonnaroo. Only the finale, “Cardinal,” is locked into sequence as an acoustic comedown. Friko’s songs open grandly and gather intensity all the way through their equally grand closings; these aren’t just anthems in the abstract sense, they’re theme songs. (PITCHFORK)

 

24. Schoolboy Q BLUE LIPS: 

returns to the dynamic stylings of the L.A. rapper’s 2016 highlight, Blank Face, albeit with a few important twists. For every confessional moment like “Cooties,” there are three or four teeth-baring mashers like “Pop,” where he flexes alongside an animated Rico Nasty. The way his oscillating raps contrast with the LP’s frequently dreamlike production makes Blue Lips feel like an inebriated haze. Years into his run, ScHoolboy Q’s personality remains compellingly out of focus.  (TIME)

 

25. Lupe Fiasco SAMURAI: 

the album is conspicuously breezy. Lupe’s singing voice, a staple of his style as far back as The Cool, has only grown more pliable: See the way he moves between cadences and harmonies on the hook and verses of “Palaces,” each smartly shaped and carefully rendered. Elsewhere he flits, without apparent effort, between other modes of technical wizardry, like the staccato syllable latticework that dresses up pedestrian writing on the second verse of “No. 1 Headband” or the passage on “Mumble Rap” that begins with the line, “With a style similar to riding around looking for an arrest to resist.” It feels as if there’s some great, centrifugal force pushing down on the middle of each bar. (PITCHFORK)

 

26. Blu & Shafiq Husayn OUT OF THE BLUE: 

Blu has such a maddening work ethics that it’s hard to pinpoint where his steely direction will really have its greatest impact  within any given year but here he manages to pare well and the proof is it the understated results.

 

27. Jean Dawson GLIMMER OF GOD: 

 this album is very different for Jean, and that is made clear right on the opening track, "Darlin", which is a beautiful, smooth, nocturnal combination of indie and alternative RnB. It feels like what you would get if you made a print song that would somehow work in a playlist of tracks from The National with a bit of Awaken My Love, Childish Gambino mixed in there, too, if that makes any sense. I know it doesn't, but the track still brings a stellar vocal performance from Jean, where he's singing in this very pained expressive inflection. Nothing nearly as brash or punky as what you might have heard on Chaos Now or Pixel Bath. And lyrically, the track is just a beautiful statement on love and devotion, just a well-written tune all around with a super-lush chorus. (THE NEEDLE DROP)

 

28. Clarence Clarity VANISHING ACT II…:  

it’s hard to approach a CC record given their maximalism and lyrical abstraction. VA2 is somewhat different to the likes of its predecessors NO:NOW and THINK:PEACE as it doesn’t have the same chaptered seamless flow and idiosyncratic internal callbacks. And it’s hard to define but, despite it feeling distinctly like a Clarence record, his experimental productions in the six years since T:P have definitely cumulated into a changed artist. (HEARFEEL)

 

29. St. Vincent ALL BORN SCREAMING: 

more primal than conceptual, and that makes it a refreshing change-up among St. Vincent albums. It’s a a dark record but not a bleak one. Even as Annie Clark’s lyrics tend to dwell in the space between connection and contempt, desire and disgust, the music never feels gloomy or defeated. Clark self-produced for the first time in her career (working with friends on drums like Dave Grohl and the art-pop artist Cate Le Bon), and you can feel a real sense of discovery as she shifts the sonic lens. (ROLLING STONE)

 

30. Declan McKenna WHAT HAPPENED TO THE BEACH?: 

the record showcases a vulnerability that McKenna has not previously expressed in his music. Rather than singing about the mass atrocities that his government has caused, McKenna has a song completely devoted to how sometimes “Nothing Works”, singing,  “What’s the point running? Not like I’m up and coming anymore.” reiterating the sentiment with lyrics like “I try to fix myself but nothing works.” “It’s an Act” showcases feelings of life being an entire performance, both as someone who does it for a living and as just another person on this Earth, “You call it a dream when it’s hell, It’s not like me to flunk the show and tell.” (THE YALE HERALD)