Top Stuff of 2025 – Top 10 Albums

RULES:

I. Had to be released on streaming in the U.S. in 2025 (buying more albums in 2026!)

II. Had to sound good to me (be aware, I have niche tastes!)

III. Wasn’t just something I liked one particular single from (see the Top 10 Singles list for such cases!)

  1. Fooled by the Rush of Growing Up – Kidburn (nobody soundtracks sunsets like this guy!)
  2. Coloura – Coloura (I gotta start a playlist of song titles that reference Pete Wentz)
  3. Closer to the Sun – Said the Sky (“You can cry in the storm or you can dance in the rain”)
  4. So Much for Second Chances – SoSo (if Eiffel 65 went emo??)
  5. Love on the Edge of Desire – The Lightning Kids (makes me want to go on a night drive)

The feature: often a transparent label move to boost profits by uniting two big names, and yet also an opportunity for smaller performers to rev their engine with gas from established peers. Thus enabled, The Frst may not be as standalone as their name suggests, but as their “About” page once clarified: “You’re The Frst… We’re your soundtrack.” And the duo play that role ably, rolling with rockers like Sleeping With Sirens (rap-meets-mope “Bruce Lee”), Eagles of Death Metal (“Murderabilia,” Josh Homme still in fine form), and The Dangerous Summer (“Torpedo”). Meanwhile, “Pop Punk Song” is my hypothetical wrestling entrance fanfare. Consider me glad this album did, in fact, happen! 

VOILÀ topped this list in 2024, so if they’re lower in the ranking this time around, it’s nothing personal—just the shockwave of discovery fading into familiarity. Still, that familiarity is as one of my favorite bands, a debonair pair who mix cabaret aesthetics with witty wordplay and a gothic fixation on death and heartbreak. For this year’s bifurcated LP, the stage is unveiled with a slow-boil title track before launching into a screaming stream of odes to drinking alone (“after (h)ours”; “Unhappy Hour”), internet addiction (“Digital Zombies”), and the one that either got away or can’t fast enough (“Wish You Hell” and “VOGUE,” respectively). There’s tenderness too, though, from the homebody seduction of “Better Off” to the tearjerking vows of “LIFEBLOOD”… and I don’t have TikTok, but if I did, I think I’ve got some winning moves for “FMK!” Fellow magicians got a show indeed this year, and I’m ready for as many more acts as Messrs. Eisner and Ross have waiting in the wings. 

For some, it’ll be the moment when the girl once rumored to have apologized for saying “God” in a song now calls out Americans whitewashing Christ. For others, it’ll be out of the gates, with the clamorous bravado of “Ice in my OJ.” Maybe, if you’ve got the right sense of humor, it’s “Discovery Channel,” interpolating exactly the Bloodhound Gang line you think it does. To everyone who experiences Ego Death, however (everyone who can belt out “That’s What You Get” at their own karaoke bar, at least), a realization will come: oh, Hayley Williams is an artist. As if there was any doubt, but in striking out on her own during COVID, Williams introduced a sound evocative of Paramore yet undeniably more personal, diverse, and perverse. Over an hour and change, the singer-songwriter vents about racists, antidepressants, and bad flings, but also looking toward a brighter future (“Love Me Better”; “I Won’t Quit on You”). With as vibrant as her hair and advocacy have always been, I’ve no doubt she’ll get there!

The “Vaxis” cycle is where I went from being Coheed-curious to an unabashed C&C fan, if only because they eased up on the suites and threw in some more hooks. With part tres of the prospective pentalogy, little has changed sonically or narratively since A Window of the Waking Mind and Unheavenly Creatures—it’s metal, it’s theatrical, it’s nerdy, and I’m still not sure what’s going on without finishing the bonus novella. Notice how there was no complaint in there! “Goodbye, Sunshine” pours one out for a late companion with fitting vigor, “Someone Who Can” backgrounded more than one self-pep-talk this year, and I just about swerved off the road (complimentary) when I heard absolute firestorm “Blind Side Sonny” segue into the breakbeats of “Play the Poet.” I’ve seen them in concert twice, and Claudio willing, I’ll see them twice more for the next acts of this interstellar adventure. 

I’m not above unabashedly happy tunes, and yet I can’t deny that—thanks to Spotify’s deluge of content (canceling that subscription, promise)—I judge thumbnails at first glance. Look at this chump tossing paper airplanes, I might’ve thought; he will never be ballin’. Chalk me taking a chance on Knox up to wild curiosity—after Bilmuri rocked my world, I went scrolling though colleagues and wondered what a clean-cut kid was doing with that hog-man. Turns out, something mellower yet equally up my alley! “You Happened” scorns an ex with darkly comic specificity, “Pick Your Poison” bops all around a chance encounter over underage drinks, and “Not The 1975” parodies its namesake for a self-deprecating anthem. I’ve no doubt the performer has a diligent crew at the studio, but all the same, the result is mononym-worthy music.

Mayday Parade: you know ‘em, you love ‘em, you have five of their shirts and want a huge umbrella largely to imitate their old album covers (that last part was written while looking into a mirror). It’s tough to admit we can now say “three cheers for twenty years,” but the love’s still there—in smug Knuckle Puck collab “Who’s Laughing Now,” in half-full-hearted adieu “Pretty Good to Feel Something,” in requisite Calvin & Hobbes quote “I Must Obey the Inscrutable Exhortations of My Soul.” Elsewhere, “I Miss the 90s” plays misdirection with its nostalgic label, while “It’s Not All Bad” enters the canon of certified MP bangers, infusing their signature melodrama with 80s synth for a toast to—honoring one of their rawest cuts—“the good that became of that crash.” This spot’s a little crowded, but until I hear a release date for the prophesied threequel, I’m treating these as an S-tier double album. 

Watching the edgy rock star archetype evolve over generations can be fascinating. Whereas all-purpose rage and casual homophobia may once have been the play (Hollywood Undead really just climbed onto the charts in ‘08 with some of those lyrics, huh), contemporary bad boys are more likely to get loud and proud about not just queerness but also mental health. Exhibit J: Jack the Underdog, who blessed my collection with this effervescent sophomore effort (and a sugarcoated nightcore version) when I least expected it! “I’M HAPPY (JUST IN CASE)” taps the UFO fixation of fellow Tom DeLonge fans for a rush of stoner optimism, “LIL ME” acerbically wallows in dreams dashed by people “who give me head—aches,” and “LIVE LAUGH LOBOTOMY” raises a two-minute-fifty-three-second middle finger to… well, can you take a number? At last count, this guy covered “Wood” and didn’t change a word. Taylor Swift isn’t on the list this year (wonder why), but with any luck, Mr. Underdog will be again. 

We have music for every season, or so it often seems. Cheery melodies for a spring in one’s step, that coveted “song of the summer,” autumnal indie, and then about four months of Christmas jingles (nights, rainy or not, synthwave’s got you covered). But what about when it’s just kinda… spooky? Chilly, misty, not a lot of people on the street? Enter Haunted Mouths, the side project from Sleeping With Sirens frontman/roving guest vocalist Kellin Quinn, and A Collection of Greetings. “Further Til We Disappear” sets the mood, eerie tones quivering over passages about rabbit holes, pumpkin tarts, and crashing waves, and what follows are soundscapes at home in bleak January (where I first listened) or pre-Halloween October alike. It comes across as traditional yet bold, meek yet forceful, and cold yet comforting. This is music for equinoxes, where day and night are symmetrical but there’s not as much to celebrate, and it’s all just a bit gray out. Glad to finally have something to stroll to in such weather! 

Some of my favorite bands got that way because of how well they blow up a projection of my heaviest emotions, like shadow puppets lit to towering proportions: Mayday Parade’s chin-up wistfulness, the operatic angst of My Chemical Romance, A Day to Remember and their easycore screeds against conformity. If I had to pick the group that best captures how I’ve actually felt on my most trying days, though, it’d be The Summer Set. “About a Girl” crystalized the unrequited what-ifs of undergrad, and “Legendary” dominated countless twentysomething daydreams, but it was when the inspiring “Figure Me Out” led—after a mutual creative hiatus—to the callback of “Back Together” that I knew. Now, with MMATRS, the quartet have zeroed in with GeoGuessr precision on my feels… and not a moment too soon! “For the First Time” revels in realizing it’s never too late to come alive, “34” is a bittersweet celebration of nearing middle age, and leave it to these guys to riff on that myth about where a certain shoe name came from with “ADIDAS.” For TSS, life has always been one big party, for better or worse. I used to not really like parties, but I think I’m ready to let myself enjoy one.

Look, I’m just as surprised as you are. With as tiring as “fake geek girls” discourse was at the time, I defended a rising 5 Seconds of Summer against “fake punk boy” allegations—but there’s no denying that “She Looks So Perfect,” with its product-placement chorus and lullaby-adjacent verses, was a corny first impression deserving of the One Direction comparisons. I got down with a few tracks from their eponymous debut and its successor, but that was kinda it. Until.

Everyone’s a Star! marks a total reinvention, if not breaking new ground then at least breaking away from the Top 40 ambitions of old and toward something darker, sexier, yet still eminently catchy. As titles like “NOT OK” and lines like “can you feel my heart” indicate, these gentleman have enjoyed some emo in their time, but this is no mere sad-boy cash-in; there’s notes of Bring Me the Horizon, but also the soft-spoken rambles of Gorillaz, The 1975-like wails (sorry, Knox!), The Weeknd’s electric lasciviousness, and on and on, with room to spare for serenades like the anguished “I’m Scared I’ll Never Sleep Again.” It’s minor-key one minute, club-ready the next, and—as the deluxe edition and one unexpectedly funny track acknowledge—evolved indeed. In studying their most gracefully aged genre forefathers, 5SOS have arrived at my ideal merger of pop and the hard stuff. It’s not a guilty pleasure; honestly, I think I’m ready to retire that phrase. It’s just a pleasure—to dance to, croon to, love to, and everything in-between. As said stars, let’s keep those good vibes going into 2026 and beyond!  

The TNW “State of Creativity” Address

Don’t worry, I’m alive! When I started this blog–*checks Archives* …fifteen years ago, good Lord–I did so with the intent of it being a one-stop shop for updates on and buzz-building about my various creative endeavors (poetry, short stories, movie-making, etc.). Some years, it has been that, and with aplomb; others, as a day job and phone addiction squeeze my free time ever tighter, it’s just been a receptacle for annual too-long-for-social-media Top 10 Lists. Those are still on their way, but in the meantime, I thought it wise to also provide a quick list of the right-brained accomplishments I’m most proud of in 2025!

Yes indeed! You can find more info if you know where to look, but at least online, I’ve kept tight-lipped so as to avoid copycats and not call my shot with undue conceit. All I’ll say for now (in addition to the cryptic clip above) is that, after conceiving of the world, characters, and plot in a flurry of inspiration over autumn of 2024, I’m now about 30% through a first draft. It’s inspired by a lot of my favorite horror/fantasy media, but also action movies, videogames, and synthwave music. My goal is a tale that’s unique and uplifting, not just another snarky pulp adventure about superheroic chosen ones making right with might. And I want to do it proper–sharing my work online and in the occasional niche journals has been fun, but to really make a name for myself, I’ll need the discipline to finish a full-scale book, the humility to accept reams of rejection letters and red-scathed pages back from an editor, and the foresight that what goes on the cover and into readers’ minds won’t be exactly what I imagined. Every time I walk into a library or Barnes & Noble, I think, all of these people got on a shelf–why can’t I? Come 2026, I plan to prove that’s a rhetorical question.

“Shop local” is the go-to mantra for building community, so even as I work on larger personal projects, I’ve also gladly made time to hit the streets and “create local.” Creative Colloquy and Voices of Tacoma: A Gathering of Poets are two splendid Grit City collectives which invite writers and other artists of all stripes to print, perform, or just swap drafts in good company. At the latter’s invitation, I’ve performed recent pieces like “Tacomaturity” and “Raining for a Saved Day,” but also dipped my toe into the unapologetically political with “Repetism,” a contribution to the Voices of Protest zine released as part of the “Fall of Freedom.” Now more than ever, I can’t tolerate what I see when I flip through the headlines. Good art can bring people together and, while they’re there, remind them of the positive change they’re capable of. It’s been my honor and privilege to occupy such a spotlight, the medium I value most in hand.

My brother Kyle and I also started a podcast this year–now available on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and YouTube! In each episode, we–the bros in question–reflect on a certain slice of retro pop culture, childhood tradition, or other such topic in a series of probing yet lighthearted conversations. It’s about nostalgia, but not uncritically; “remember when” is just the jumping-off point, and if we think things are better now in some respects than back in 90s/Y2K days, we’ll gladly say so and why. After block-shooting some episodes in 2024, we released those and more about biweekly starting in May, since which we’ve taken a break. What’s next? Well, in addition to a general Season Two, we’re looking to expand the show’s scope and introduce side projects under our new media production business, “White Noise LLC.” In the meantime, we’ve got a Bygone Bros Instagram, there’s a lot of untapped potential for us aging Millennials on TikTok or a similar platform, and we’ve got a solid list of additional topics we’re looking forward to discussing!

Not sure why WordPress insists on this embed being so huge, but Snowfall is worth it!

For a while, my video production bread and butter was Twitch highlights and movie reviews. This year, in the interest of focusing on the aforementioned projects, I scaled that back; my “Spooky Streams” are impulsive and sporadic (but that means they pop up when you least expect it!), while my filmed reviews were limited to dunking on a truly heinous Jason Statham flick. I still write about most everything I watch on Letterboxd, at least–769 diary entries and counting, baby! But I didn’t sleep on my channel–I put out another horror story narration, fourteen episodes of Bygone Bros, a few amusing home videos otherwise lost to time, and whatever comedy shorts happened to pop in my head and wouldn’t leave until I hit “export” in Premiere. That, and I always like to toss up the occasional cat video (see above) or moment of PNW zen–out of true enthusiasm, but also in recognition of how Shorts usually net at least a stray follower or two. Praise be to the Algorithm, and may I finish my first proper video essay soon enough!

Though it debuted well before 2025, I’d be remiss not to rep once more for the creative project of which I’m most proud: ANAGOGIA, an interactive fiction game about navigating a realm of liminal spaces occupied by unnerving creatures and phenomena. I still leave QR code cards promoting it in any dive bar bathroom or communal corkboard I come across… you never know when you might encounter one!

Oh, and I’m trying to make chocolate for a prospective side biz. Always liked the idea of marketing candy as a kid (they’re fun to eat, surely they’re fun to sell!), but there’s definitely a few more steps involved than just melting down someone else’s bar and pouring it into silicone. Still, Kyle and I have what we feel are some excellent ideas to stand out from the crowd, branding- and flavor-wise. Stay tuned!

Honorable mention: “This Party Sucks” emo nite – Airport Tavern.

Lastly… well, reckon I can’t call karaoke a substantive creative output, but let it be known that I have good fun with it among friends and grab a mic whenever the opportunity arises. Separate but very much related is my love of live music–there’s a beautiful communion to hearing tunes that’ve meant so much to you personally blasted at 11 (as I stand in the back with earplugs, but still), alongside a crowd that proves you were never truly alone. As a P.S. of posterity, here’s highlights from all of the concerts I saw this year:

a. This Wild Life – The Vera Project
b. Coven Dove – The Juice Box
c. Mayday Parade (with Microwave, Grayscale, Like Roses) – Showbox SoDo
d. Pierce the Veil (with Sleeping with Sirens, Beach Weather) – Cascades Amphitheater
e. Simple Plan (with Bowling for Soup, 3OH!3) – WAMU Theater
f. The All-American Rejects – Emerald Queen Casino
g. Coheed & Cambria (with Taking Back Sunday, Foxing) – Chateau Ste. Michelle Winery
h. Seattle Symphony – Benaroya Hall
i. VOILÀ (with Monotronic, NOT A TOY) – Chop Suey
j. Jack’s Mannequin (with illuminati hotties) – Showbox SoDo
k. Emo Night Karaoke (with my buddy Grant et al.!) – Airport Tavern

TOP MUSIC OF 2024

I like music — my artists of choice are rarely high art, and often either super-mainstream or trivially niche, but I think it’s the most efficient form of storytelling, and for that I’ll forever treasure the medium. As a sailor man who’s going into public domain next year once said, I yam what I yam! With that in mind, here’s my top ten albums and singles of 2024:

This year, I started writing my first fantasy novel, Neon Bonfire. The story takes place in a world akin to 1980s America but completely uncoupled from our reality, like how typical fantasy occupies medieval-era trappings—think Game of Thrones, but with tape decks and blocky phones alongside the magic and monsters. As with all creative projects, I made a semi-official playlist, the predominant genre being synthwave—and the main theme being the propulsive, defiant title track from Dreamkid’s latest LP. As in their debut, the artist’s palette paints in familiar tones of Day-Glo, static, and melancholy, but once you’ve heard wistful, glittering numbers like “Take Me on Tonight” or “Hometown Memories,” driving home while the sun sets will never quite hit the same again.

Art is both contagion and medium: Without spreading, it can’t thrive. It’s in that spirit that I have a friend to thank for knowing about CLIFFDIVER, as hearing them belt out “New Vegas Bomb” at a karaoke night in 2023 put the goofy group on my radar. While the rest of their last record, Exercise Your Demons, was just serviceable for this critic, 2024’s Birdwatching won me over with its high spirits, irreverent song titles (see “black lodge breakfast burrito (limited time only)”), and ever-more identifiable passages about being a dork in your mid-thirties. “Team fight tactics” in particular is relationship goals—and I don’t even watch football!

Speaking of musicians introduced to me by a loopy single at karaoke! Even after knowing about them for at least a year—and seeing a live performance at The Showbox in Seattle—I still don’t know how to describe this tongue-in-cheek lunk’s punk-meets-Nashville-meets-comedy niche. “Y’allternative”? “Divorced dad rock”? “Memecore”? Whatever the subgenre, the result is cuts like “EMPTYHANDED,” where our singer bemoans a one-sided relationship before agitated guitars pause en route to the breakdown for a Kevin James sample. If the Hot Topic crowd are to age into country fans the same as our forefathers, I could think of no better entry point than the beer-chugging, lawnmowing stylings of Bilmuri.

The rules are simple: A new Marianas Trench record comes out, I put it on this list in a second and make it my personality for a month. Once more game for a concept album befitting their roof-raising sound, Haven sees the Canuck quartet soar across thirteen tracks inspired by The Hero’s Journey, the duality of man, and—as their “Force of Nature Tour” (a proud attendee!) foregrounded—the elements themselves. “Lightning and Thunder,” “Now or Never,” “Stand and Fight,” “Turn and Run”… one could get déjà vu scrolling down the track list, but as ever, the band bounces between new wave, funk, and suites befitting a Broadway stage with a verve which flaunts the influences worn on their bedazzled sleeves yet nevertheless drowns out most contemporaries. In a year where I finally made peace with my place in the world, lithe and loud lead Josh Ramsay shouted it best: “In the end, I don’t belong inside a normal life!”

Chester Bennington. The name hovered over another Linkin Park project ever since the iconic singer tragically passed in 2017. Initial reactions to the appointment of Emily Armstrong were thus mixed: A woman! Scientology-adjacent! Who asked the family!? But the show must go on, and From Zero is an album which, while perhaps slight, still taps into the group’s trademark ire with a relish not seen in years. Gone are the club-friendly compositions of preceding records, replaced with returns to form like “The Emptiness Machine,” in which Mike Shinoda spits fire which continues to burn for nine more tracks, and “Two Faced,” where Armstrong scorns a deceitful opponent with eardrum-splitting intensity. Maybe I’m just an easy mark for rocker chicks, but while my sympathies go out to the Benningtons, I can’t wait to see what LP L.P. puts out next

Rock outfits founded on ‘80s appreciation are a booming business, but there’s a fine line between those who paint a new picture with the era’s vibes and those content to just, say, paraphrase Huey Lewis & The News. It’s my pleasure to report that The Strike plants a flag in the former category, and I got outta some serious funks this year for it. From the jubilant “American Dream” to plaintive closer “Until the Lights Go Out,” and reckless ballad “The Getaway” in-between, A Dream Through Open Eyes is just that: the sound of days gone by, yes, but in service of aspiration and love. Headed into 2025, we could use a whole lot of both.

As it was with The Maine in 2023, so shall it be with Neck Deep in 2024: a belated self-titled which confirms that, oh yeah, this is what this band is about and why I dig them. The Welsh pop-punkers allow for zero skips, to the point that it’s a struggle to not just go full Fantano and break down every track. Self-deprecating opener “Dumbstruck Dumbfuck,” political call to action “We Need More Bricks,” post-dumping paen “Heartbreak of the Century,” even Mulder-mode “Take Me with You” from last year’s Top Singles list—it’s all good, it’s all fun, it’s all a mood. It’s been a long, lonely December, but with Neck Deep on the aux and in my soul, I’m never really alone.

If music can be a form of therapy for the musician, then Bring Me The Horizon has been controversial frontman Olli Sykes’ appointment for some time now—the stage his couch, the audience his doctor. Fortunately, BMTH go big yet go dorky, so while tracks like “Kool-Aid” are kinda just a retread of the cult commentary from 2019’s “MANTRA,” we also get the irreverently titled screed “Top 10 staTues tHat CriEd bloOd,” despondent tantrum “n/A,” and a home at last for the most a song has ever sounded like a 1-800-273-8255 call, “LosT.” Here’s hoping Sykes keeps it together enough to finish off this gaming-influenced chapter of the band’s saga, but while I sympathize with folks who see “POST HUMAN” as a glorified mixtape series, I know no better way to encapsulate the fevered dissonance of mental unwellness than an hour of screaming, snark, and asides about wanting to make love to a chainsaw.

Look what she made me do. For four album cycles in a row now, Taylor Swift has entered my Top Five—but for the first time, I have no reservations. I identify as a writer, and having penned poems since I was at least six years old, a poet in turn. As such, framing her first bona fide double LP as an assemblage of intimate, long-winded verses is the closest I’ve come to seeing America’s sweetheart validate my own approach to the medium. Yes, some anecdotes are cringe (“you take my ring off my middle finger and put on the one people put wedding rings on”— hey Taylor, you mean… the ring finger?), but I can only envy the clout it takes to trauma-dump for 30+ tracks to a fanbase larger than some countries and walk away all the bigger for it. The title track paints a searing portrait of a fractured relationship, “Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?” embraces the starlet’s drama-queen history with scream-queen zeal, and “I Can Do it with a Broken Heart” makes radio-ready pep of weathering industry pressure. Pending how things pan out with Travis, it’s anyone’s guess what the next phase of Ms. Swift’s career will be… but if she’s ever in town, I’m happy to become a liner note.

I don’t make music. I’ve always wanted to, I can, and I should, but I don’t. Even if I never do, though, I’ll rest easy knowing the music I’d want to make was already made by VOILÀ. Fashioning themselves not as singers or even artists but rather “magicians,” Gus Ross and Luke Eisner blend the dissonant sounds of my coming-of-age—emo and sensual electro-pop—into a package that made me kick myself for not clocking them upon their 2019 emergence. A feature by The Ready Set led me to the first act of Glass Half Empty, upon which I relished their back catalogue full of bangers like scene girl ode “My Type” and the flagrantly erotic “So Hot That it Hurts,” but it was the belated joinder of this album’s back half that made me decide my recency bias was justified. I like clever, I like cacophonous, and I like knowing that someone else feels as deeply as I do about the heart and hereafter. “Hope That I Go First” says the quiet part oh-so loud in treasuring an aging partner, “WAR.” unapologetically equates infatuation with the masculine urge to do battle, and when “The Treasure (6 Feet Under)” caps a career fixation on memento mori with a reprise of lyrics past, I knew I was in the hands of connoisseurs of the craft. In enjoying this debonair duo, my glass is not just half full—it runneth over.

Yep, these guys are still around… but so am I, here to treasure wry, baroque ruminations on culture and the human condition the same as I did in high school!

While One More Time was too nostalgia-mongering and, well, mixed like crap to earn space on my 2023 list, the industry-standard second wind of tracks dropped this year made for a pleasant surprise—this B-side in particular. Tom’s autumnal laments may ring like inside baseball, but as an outsider, the sentiment remains relatable: so hey, fuck me, and fuck you too.

I’m serious as a stroke when I say that this anonymous YouTuber doing obscene gangsta rap in the AI-enabled voices of SpongeBob characters is my favorite new find of the year.

Personally, I’d never have chosen to combine dialogue from The Other Guys with emo grievances, but whoever’s behind this Washington-based project with only two singles to their name still has me among their dozens-strong IG followers as a result.

Do you want to get mean, dark, and a little theatrical? If so, The Funeral Portrait is for you, this collab with The Used frontman Bert McCracken in particular.

After his latest album—a premature soundtrack to sci-fi comedy Bando Stone and the New World—Donald Glover said he’s done playing Childish Gambino. Fair enough if so—after Atlanta, “This is America,” and Lando Calrissian, where does one even go but back behind the curtain? Hell if I know who Codi LeRae is, but were the artist to bow out with this single, I’d take its wailing about the futility of love as a suitable swan song.

I like when Kesha does that thing with her voice. Which thing? Oh, all of them.

I won’t pretend I’m unique in stumbling upon a new favorite song after seeing an inordinately high stream count and going “hmm.” Even still, The Dare’s “Girls” supplanted comparably named tracks by Mayday Parade and The 1975 for me this year with its breathless, lascivious lines that read like the diary of a dude three weeks into a fraying vow of celibacy. Arctic Monkeys may’ve moved on to piano noodling, but “indie sleaze” is back in action!

When I said earlier that Dreamkid’s “Daggers” inspired my novel Neon Bonfire, I lied by omission a little. This track, part of a soft comeback from dark synth collective Dance with the Dead, was the real impetus, infusing me as it did with such badass energy (if only upon mishearing the chorus as “it’s cold as hell under us”) that I was helpless to not imagine my own cool fight scene set to its icy strains… stay tuned!

It’s easy to contemplate self-harm—we all have a reliable “off” switch, in the form of the nearest sharp or blunt object propelled inward at sufficient speed. It’s more rewarding, however, to recognize that the flicker of nihilism occasioned by a spate of self-doubt or a stranger’s snide remark is nothing compared to the buoyant, shining promise which the future still holds. From Porter Robinson, such observations might come off as first-world problems, but the acclaimed musician’s delivery is one for the ages, as bemoaning imposter syndrome gives way to a recognition of all that life still has to offer, followed by a triumphant EDM breakdown and, finally, words of wisdom from a Stephen Hawking-alike which conclude with a curt but essential mandate: “Don’t kill yourself, you idiot!”

My Top Music of 2023

You’ve heard from the best, now hear from… well, me! I’m no Fantano or Pitchfork, but I do have Airpods in at most hours–along with a well-used car stereo–so I heard plenty of music in 2023 for which praise is due. To complement my Top Games of 2023 list from the other day, then (a brief movie one is on my Letterboxd – expanded video adaptations of both pending!), here’s some quick ‘n dirty takes on my favorite albums and singles which hit my ears this year:

TOP ALBUMS OF 2023

Low on the list out of principle ’cause I didn’t get around to listening until I was driving home from a NYE party, but still: Solid vocal and instrumental synthwave of the eerie Stranger Things-adjacent variety, all wrapped in an endearing package honoring the same retro aesthetic.

Half a century and change after their biggest hits, there’s admittedly more hack than diamonds in this LP, but having the boys back in town with new material felt like a cause to rock all the same. And we got a Lady Gaga feature, no less!

In a genre full of nostalgia-mongering and fantastical imagery, Magic Sword has cornered the market on a specific yet indelible mood: Music to quest to. With eerie synth tones and song titles like “Nowhere Else to Run,” “A Dark Task,” and “There is Still Good in You,” how can you not want to don a cloak of your own and journey towards what lies on the horizon?

Back in my day, if you wanted Halloween-themed emo music, you had Blink-182’s “I Miss You” and maybe a Panic! at the Disco track or two. Leave it to young guns Magnolia Park, though, to dole it out on the regular! Amid tracks which explicitly name-check the holiday and other suitably spooky subjects, raucous yet wistful opener “The End: An Emo Night Rhapsody” more than earns its subcultural pretension, 408 collab “Manic” is an infectious ode to a dysfunctional relationship, and “Life in the USA” makes for a darkly funny, unapologetically political dig at late-stage capitalism.

If Vic and the gang put out a new record, you know it’s gonna be on this list somewhere. Shouty lead single “Pass the Nirvana” had me wary when it dropped in 2022, but I came around to its sound on the release proper, and numerous other tracks keep PTV’s quality-over-quantity discography going strong: The thunderous yet dreamy promises of “Even When I’m Not with You,” the cacophonous pleading of “Emergency Contact,” and the aching reflections on Chloe Moriondo duet “12 Fractures” were particular highlights.

I’m always a little wary when a band well into their career releases a self-titled album. Are we in for a bold, image-defining musical experience, or just a going-through-the-motions contractual obligation? With The Maine, however, it’s neither, as their 2023 eponymous LP may well be my favorite yet. From the indignant yet bouncy chorus on “Blame” to the downright danceable “Leave in Five,” The Maine remain an indelibly entertaining missing link between radio-friendly pop rock and heart-on-the-sleeve, Hopeless Records catharsis. Generous of them, too, to write the theme song for every college party I ever peaced out on with “How to Exit a Room.”

It’s a crowded scene out there for 80s-throwback acts, especially in my library, but WOLFCLUB stands apart from the pack (no pun intended) by having… well, just really darn good hooks. As ever, young love, sleek cars, and dark nights are the imagery du jour, but with tracks like soaring, insistent opener “Crystalise” and breathless call-and-response “Shoreline” (complete with a sax solo!), they simply outrun the competition.

I don’t consider myself a sonic tastemaker at the best of times, but I was still surprised to see Waterparks’ latest LP pop up on multiple critics’ worst-of lists for 2023, because… this thing slaps? I get it–rambunctious production, goofball lyrics, and random stylistic transitions aren’t for everyone, but the loopy, corny, often horny energy of tracks like “Funeral Grey,” “Brainwashed,” and “Self-Sabotage” is just too infectious for me to pooh-pooh.

We didn’t get a new Mayday Parade record in 2023, but we did get the next best thing: Another acoustic outing from frontman Derek Sanders! Despite its five-track run, this box is heavy indeed — “Home” is a melancholy reflection on the road to peace, “Howell Canyon” evokes The Postal Service with its thrumming percussion and laments that “we exist to only fall apart,” and the sparse instrumentation of “True Story of a Boy Whose Exploits Panicked a Nation” encloses a heartbreaking look back at a life literally or figuratively reaching its end… while also continuing Sanders’ cute tradition of naming songs after Calvin & Hobbes quotes. Cap it off with a reunion with classic Mayday compatriot Jason Lancaster on “For Dear Life,” and you’ve got an EP which all transported me back to 2013–not a place I ought to linger, in truth, but a comfort in certain troubled moments all the same.

Four words: emo songs as anime themes. As prolific as the overlap is between weebs and scene kids, it’s amazing no one capitalized upon this peanut butter-and-chocolate combo before, but bless SSK for giving it a go, turning pop-punk hits by Yellowcard, My Chemical Romance, and more into even peppier J-pop bangers, complete with translated lyrics. Enjoy the back half, too, where each track is convincingly condensed into what could well be the opener to your new favorite slice-of-life series! Now for someone to actually produce the shows that’d go with these…

TOP SINGLES OF 2023

Nothing too complicated here–just another rad, funky throwback perfect for neon-lit night drives, from the dudes who arguably do it best.

As alluded to above, I won’t pretend Hackney Diamonds is a newsworthy return to form for the rock titans, but to just have (1) a disco remix (2) of a Rolling Stones song in the year 2023 felt like a rift in time had opened in the best way.

To have weathered my twenties to the sound of Everything in Transit by Jack’s Mannequin, only to reflect along with frontman McMahon on the things only growing older can teach you… it’s nice. Not uplifting, but nice.

For all their overproduced earlier work and off-stage scandals, I stand by my conviction that All Time Low can always be counted on to fire off a rowdy earworm about being an unambitious screw-up. Their 2023 record may have been too familiar to make my Top 10 in aggregate, but this all-too-relatable lead single of the same name stands tall (or, maybe, slumps against wall) just the same.

I don’t know exactly what’s going on here, but it’s loud, it’s vaguely sci-fi, and I have a thing for orange hair, so color me pleased.

We did get some new Mayday Parade singles this year, at least! And the first was the best, or at least the most promisingly unique: “More Like a Crash,” in which classic Mayday heartbreak (“guess it’s been a while since I had nothing to do”) crests before the trademark guitar breakdown with a holler of the title line, feeling right out of their rawer Black Lines period. Eager to see where the overall sonic direction of their next project goes!

Among the many bands experiencing a renaissance thanks to emo-era nostalgia, none were perhaps more surprising–or welcome–than Yellowcard reneging on their 2016 final bow with a new EP. Of particular note was this track, in which the band openly carries forward their original youthful energy without sounding desperate or pandering. Another pop punk group that tried to make a comeback in 2023 should blink their own eyes and take note…

Some songs capture a specific emotion so well that it’s almost like a part of you has been carved out and pressed on vinyl. Not always a pleasant emotion, mind you, but all the same, “LosT”–with its incessant guitars, glitched-out electronic segments, and furious lyrics–is the sound of that one adjective, that one feeling, running like a bull in a china shop through one’s head in moments of self-doubt. I (thankfully) can’t relate to controversial lead singer Oli Sykes watching anime while doing ketamine, but to wanting to scream “what the hell is fucking wrong with me?” after a bad day? Consider me found.

Hey, remember that week or two in 2023 when some random government guy claimed he saw UFOs, and everyone decided that was irrefutable proof aliens exist? Neck Deep does, or at least they struck while the iron (or some other metallic substance not of this planet) was hot and dropped this silly little homage to The X-Files, E.T., and the increasingly sensible anxiety of wanting to leave Earth while there’s still time. I didn’t know these dudes had a nerdy novelty song in them, but it just makes their library of A-tier pop punk even better!

In the late Aughts, Ke$ha was widely derided as the nadir of music: trashy, airheaded, unconscionably perverse. With time, however, came change for the artist, both for good–a reappraisal of silly, sexy pop stars–and for ill: namely, a #MeToo-adjacent sexual abuse case and subsequent industry fallout. I don’t have the space, much less the education, to dissect how all of this influenced Kesha (long since bereft of the dollar sign) during the production of her 2023 record Gag Order; I just know that, for all of the bombastic tracks I showered with accolades earlier, “Eat the Acid” is the most interesting song I heard this year: a calm, haunting, hypnotic mantra about faith, isolation, and the dilemma of seeking self-actualization from without as opposed to within.