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!)
Honorable Mentions
Fooled by the Rush of Growing Up – Kidburn (nobody soundtracks sunsets like this guy!)
Coloura – Coloura (I gotta start a playlist of song titles that reference Pete Wentz)
Closer to the Sun – Said the Sky (“You can cry in the storm or you can dance in the rain”)
So Much for Second Chances – SoSo (if Eiffel 65 went emo??)
Love on the Edge of Desire – The Lightning Kids (makes me want to go on a night drive)
10) This Never Happened – The Frst
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!
9) The Last Laugh – VOILÀ
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.
8) Ego Death at a Bachelorette Party – Hayley Williams
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!
7) Vaxis III: The Father of Make Believe – Coheed & Cambria
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.
6) Going, Going, Gone – Knox
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.
5) Sweet and Sad – Mayday Parade
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.
4) YESTERDAY FOREVER! – Jack the Underdog
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.
3) A Collection of Greetings – Haunted Mouths
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!
2) Meet Me at the Record Store – The Summer Set
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.
1) Everyone’s a Star! – 5 Seconds of Summer
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!
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!
1. Writing an Urban Fantasy Novel
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.
2. Poetry Across Tacoma
“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.
3. Bygone Bros.
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!
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!
6. Chocolate? Chocolate!
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.
7. In Concert
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
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
#10) Noah’s Ghost, Lost Nights
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.
#9) Hackney Diamonds, The Rolling Stones
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!
#8) Badlands, Magic Sword
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?
#7) Halloween Mixtape II, Magnolia Park
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.
#6) The Jaws of Life, Pierce the Veil
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.
#5) The Maine, The Maine
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.”
#4) Desert Hearts, W O L F C L U B
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.
#3) Intellectual Property, Waterparks
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.
#2) The Heavy Box, Derek Sanders
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.
#1) Emotaku, Sunrise Skater Kids
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
#10) “Burning Rubber,” Arcade High
Nothing too complicated here–just another rad, funky throwback perfect for neon-lit night drives, from the dudes who arguably do it best.
#9) “Mess it Up” (Purple Disco Machine Remix), The Rolling Stones
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.
#8) “Nobody Tells You When You’re Young,” Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness
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.
#7) “Tell Me I’m Alive,” All Time Low
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.
#6) “After Destruction,” Descartes a Kant
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.
#5) “More Like a Crash,” Mayday Parade
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!
#4) “Childhood Eyes,” Yellowcard
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…
#3) “LosT,” Bring Me the Horizon
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.
#2) “Take Me with You,” Neck Deep
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!
#1) “Eat the Acid,” Kesha
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.
Time may be an illusion, but when it comes to the end of December, listicles are a cold, hard fact. In keeping with my annual diet of movies, music, videogames, and– a tad shamefully–not that many books or TV shows, here’s my Top Stuff in each medium that (typically) released within the last 365 days. I always say “Top Stuff” because I’m sure there’s even better ones I haven’t seen/played/whatever, and I’d never dare presume that my personal interests represent some objective, or even subjective, metric by which you should judge your own preferences. This is just some art I thought was cool as I kept on truckin’ in 2021–and if you did too, then that’s cool too!
FILMS
5. Nobody
When pop culture historians look back on the late 2010s, John Wick will stand as a lodestar for cinema. Vengeful popcorn flicks had existed before, of course, but the tip of the still-flourishing Keanussance brought a vibrancy—a commitment to coherent and well-choreographed, not just violent, action—that the genre largely lacked post-Matrix. The stage set, Wick’s director David Leitch then teamed up with the brains behind the hyperactive first-person shooter movie Hardcore Henry for a film with a similar story, yet founded on a critically different question: what if the guy kinda looked like a weenie? That’s no disrespect on Bob Odenkirk’s name, though, for while the actor is old enough to be my father, he plays both sides of the coin with aplomb: a meek pencil-pusher one moment, and a long-dormant hitter putting the heads of Russian thugs through walls the next. Owing, I suspect, to it being a common cramped location, there’s a lot of scuffles on public transportation in action movies—even 2021 gave us another in Shang-Chi—but the bus brawl here ranks among the best, most deliciously brutal fight scenes in recent history. And the R-rated Home Alone climax, complete with Doc Brown packing heat? An all-timer. Fingers crossed that Odenkirk’s health scare earlier this year doesn’t keep him from safely stepping back in for a sequel—I pity the next crook who absconds with that kitty-cat bracelet!
4. Dune
2021’s Dune excels because of what it is, but also what it isn’t—the shadow of David Lynch’s Dune (1984) looms large over any subsequent adaptations, if not on its merits then as a reminder of the perils of trying to cram all of Frank Herbert’s bizarre, politically charged novel into one film. Thankfully, then, director Denis Villeneuve didn’t try; as coy as the marketing may have played things, this is “Part One,” and the third act unquestionably sags because of it. By that same token, though, the sights and sounds of this world are given room to stretch out—and what a blessing, because both are utterly captivating. The sets, costumes, and effects work are detailed and convincing, and Hans Zimmer’s score—while as blaring and dialogue-unfriendly as ever—aptly channels the formidable scope of these alien planets and their rulers’ ambitions. Inevitably, there’s exposition dumps, but the dialogue scarcely feels forced, and I rarely got lost in the world-building or globetrotting. And, of course, dat cast: from Timothée Chalamet to Jason Momoa to Rebecca Ferguson, there’s smokeshows here for every age and gender! Zendaya stans were understandably irked by her borderline cameo, but given that 2une got greenlit in the middle of opening weekend, I’m confident Villeneuve and company will do the continuing story of the Fremen justice. After all, the Spice must flow!
3. F9: The Fast Saga
Fast & Furious is a superhero franchise. Once I became aware of that, consciously or not, I stopped seeing the movies as meathead-meets-gearhead Michael Bay runoff and started… well, seeing them, period. Part soap opera, part Mission: Impossible, and part Talladega Nights, the Fast series has morphed over my lifetime into a ridiculous yet unironically entertaining staple of the megaplex, and nowhere more so than this, its ninth mainline installment. The absurdities pile higher than ever: Vin Diesel and John Cena play blood brothers, a character we saw die in a fiery crash inexplicably teleports to a building across the street, and falling upwards of three stories is apparently fine so long as you land on something with a steering wheel. But in turn, we get cars swinging on ropes, cars getting flipped by supermagnets, cars going to mf’ing outer space—just utter nonsense I would’ve come up with while racing Hot Wheels around my bedroom floor as a child, but starring Helen Mirren and costing more than the GDP of some nations to produce. What it all comes down to, though, is really straightforward: family. And you know what? I’ll be there with my own for Fast 10 on opening night.
2. Malignant
When questioned on my seemingly inconsistent taste in media, whether by myself or others, I’ve come to answer with a blunt philosophy: I like stupid shit, so long as it’s also awesome. Few men in Hollywood have their finger on that pulse like James Wan, who—after more or less inventing an entire subgenre with Saw and proving his action chops in Furious 7 and Aquaman—returned home in 2021 for the world’s first neo-giallo body horror martial arts slasher. That description, in itself, is arguably a spoiler, but believe me when I say that nothing can still prepare you for what goes down in the final minutes of this thing. Suffice it to say that, after an hour or two of getting immersed in the moody lighting, cheesy dialogue, visceral kills, and a wicked Pixies cover, I went from clutching my armrest to internally hooting and hollering like a WrestleMania spectator. When everyone loves or loathes a movie, it’s unifying but stultifying—because what’s even left to discuss? But when, as with Malignant, reviews were split between “that was the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen” and “GOAT,” I know now—as I did the moment I left my screening— that it’s a picture I’ll be talking and thinking about for years to come… always there, in the back of my mind.
The Green Knight
What makes a myth, a story that can endure for generations? For my money, on the silver screen, it’s spectacle: the clang of swords, the spark of a flame, the sight of someone or something massive looming in the distance, and a hero in the foreground who’s willing and able to brave it all to accomplish their quest. Modern blockbusters deliver such thrills in spades, but lest we forget: in a sense, Arthurian legends walked so that everyone from Tarzan to Iron Man could run, swing, and fly. Drawing from an epic poem older than my own country by centuries, The Green Knight may take some liberties to entertain a contemporary audience, yet at its core is a haunting, slow-boil tragedy far from any of the family-friendly Disney adventures that clog theaters. Our protagonist’s fate is sealed in the first act, and for all intents and purposes, his is a pilgrimage to doom. En route, the cavalcade of characters he encounters keep the proceedings varied, as does director David Lowery’s arresting eye for color and creeping dread, from the yellow of Sir Gawain’s cloak to the orange fog which suffuses the air as a vulpine companion suddenly reveals it can speak. There’s magic, bloodshed, sex, ghosts, and giants. It’s sad, frightening, monumental, and it has not one but two Alicia Vikanders. Dev Patel has a beard. What more can you ask for in an epic tale?
VIDEOGAMES
5. Marvel’s Guardians of the Galaxy
Would they learn their lesson?This was the question looming over Marvel videogames—at least, those published by Square-Enix—after the glitchy, glorified gacha machine that was Marvel’s Avengers proved the second-biggest gaming letdown of 2020 (Cyberpunk 2077 takes the heavy crown, of course). I was pleased to learn, however, that they had, and the once-omnipresent curse of The Superhero Videogame returned to its slumber once more. I haven’t beaten it yet, so it’s low on the list as a matter of principle, but Marvel’s Guardians of the Galaxy earns top marks across the board: the graphics look great and the design of its alien worlds is wildly creative; the combat is satisfyingly chaotic yet intuitive (though my PS4, in its autumn years, sometimes struggles to keep up); and the soundtrack is chock full of 80s bangers—God only knows what these licensing rights cost, but it was worth every flarkin’ penny. The titular ensemble is wonderfully written and acted, too—the MCU casting leaves big shoes to fill, but the amount of funny, context-specific dialogue is remarkable. There’s some jank, sure (I’ve had to reload a save more than once after one of the score of audiovisual cues overlapping at any given moment got stuck on-screen), the Telltale-ish dialogue choice system feels half-baked, and Rocket is way more of an asshole than even Bradley Cooper played him for no good reason. Also, does the rest of the squad really have to get on my case every time I gently veer off a sub-Uncharted linear level route for a moderate cache of upgrade points? Still, it’s a minor miracle for a AAA single-player game with minimal microtransactions to release in the ‘20s—here’s hoping future cape games take note!
4. Unpacking
I like a good loud, violent shooter, but I’m not above a humble point ‘n’ click narrative jaunt when the mood strikes me. Case in point: This year’s Unpacking, a “zen puzzle game” which simulates a common yet comforting ritual: taking stuff out of boxes and putting it on shelves when you move into a new place. In so doing, across a handful of locations spanning a decade, you slowly piece together… not a story, per se, but rather a young life. Photos of a friend once held high on the wall go into a drawer; an iPod weathers with age before being relegated to the ubiquitous box ‘o cables; videogames advance with the generations, from a chunky little Game Boy to an Xbox 360. Along the way, the cozy, colorful isometric graphics and pleasant soundtrack make even the humblest bathroom look like somewhere you’d just want to curl up and relax. That art style in particular does so much with so little—who knew I could recognize, say, a DVD of Ghost World or Up from a chunk of pixels smaller than my thumbnail? It’s not long, it’s not particularly challenging, and it implicitly casts you in the role of a character way outside my usual range (a Jewish lesbian illustrator, I think?). Now more than ever, though, the serenity of new beginnings is something we could all enjoy—just cut the tape with your Stanley knife (so that’s what those are called) and get to Unpacking.
3. WarioWare: Get it Together!
After years of glorified tech demos and greatest-hits collections, WarioWare returned in earnest! This time, instead of capitalizing on a control gimmick (see, e.g., Touched, Twisted, Smooth Moves), the greedy garlic-chomper’s latest meta-game outing went back to the drawing board for a radical tweak: playing not as “yourself,” but rather as Wario’s many beleaguered friends and employees, sucked into their own work product by some malicious malware. This seemingly basic change opens up all kinds of possibilities, for the split-second solution which each microgame inherently demands becomes that much more daunting when you’re switching between not only settings but also entire control schemes! The lack of the bonus “toys” which have been a tradition in the series is a shame, but in their place, we get a bevvy of diverse multiplayer outings, as well as a challenge system and shamefully addictive postgame “Prezzies” to level up characters and unlock bonus content. Among the quick, on-the-go games which flourish on Nintendo Switch, Get it Together! is well worth your time.
2. Psychonauts 2
If, like me, you do yourself a favor and don’t read Tim Schafer’s Twitter, you’ve probably been looking forward to Psychonauts 2 since the first one debuted sixteen years ago. But unlike many gaming sequels long-damned to development hell, Double Fine didn’t miss a beat: the graphics are cleaner, and the combat takes a cue from modern action-RPGs, but the delightful Burton-adjacent art style and creepy, clever levels stuffed with collectibles are all back just as you remember them. Too often, latter-day platformers dine on ‘member berries instead of advancing the subgenre (looking at you, Yooka-Laylee), but Psychonauts 2 adds a plethora of diverse new characters and psychic abilities, as well as a surprisingly robust open world full of side missions. After this long between entries (plus or minus the canonical but slight VR trip In the Rhombus of Ruin), it may be too much to ask for a threequel already, but there’s precious few franchises willing to get this zany and unapologetically fun!
Resident Evil: Village
In 2017, licking its wounds after the bloated mess that was Resident Evil 6, Capcom had a lot to prove to survival horror fans. Inspired by The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Hideo Kojima’s ill-fated P.T. in equal measure, Resident Evil 7: Biohazard met those expectations and then some, literally bringing a new perspective to the series and remembering to actually include some fear alongside all the gross monsters and explosions. A follow-up was inevitable, and while I felt vindicated to learn that leaks about the eighth entry being called “Village” were accurate, nothing could’ve prepared me for how frightening, crazy, and exciting this game would be. Werewolves, living dolls, a giant fish-man, cyborg zombies which may or may not violate intellectual property rights… and, yes, a certifiably scarousing vampiress with a least a foot on most of the NBA all torment you at one point or another. But unlike most other modern horror, where your only options are to run, hide, and/or read a journal about how this is all a metaphor for repressed trauma, you’ve got shotguns, grenade launchers, sniper rifles, and a morbidly obese nobleman who’ll sell you ammo for all of them. Throughout it all, the RE Engine coats this grotesque Gothic world in a photorealistic patina that makes the prior generation of consoles sing (or shriek, as the case may be). If “badass camp” is the tone Resident Evil wants to strike going forward, consider me a happy camper indeed, and ready for whatever the shocking conclusion here promises for RE9!
Honorable Mention: The Pathless
So The Pathless actually came out in 2020, but I first played it this year and, to my knowledge, it was marketed predominantly as a PS5 game—and really, who even has one of those? I can see how the game would take advantage of the next gen’s daunting processing power: the entire world is one big, loading screen-free map, gated only by passages which are out of reach ’til you beat a given boss. However, it runs just fine on PS4 as well, and what a joy that it does, because The Pathless provides a setting that I relish wherever it arises: a vast, quiet, mysterious world to just run through and make sense of. From crumbling temples adorned with carvings of giant beasts to scattered puzzles which reward a little block-pushing or clever jumping with a power-up, the game is unapologetically inspired by Breath of the Wild and, in turn, Shadow of the Colossus. Yet moment-to-moment play actually evokes—of all things—Marvel’s Spider-Man: Your protagonist, a veiled warrior with an eagle by her side, gains bursts of speed from firing arrows at omnipresent, floating glyphs, and so most traversal is accomplished by taking auto-aim at the nearest doodad to sprint across fields and valleys in search of your next friend or foe. It’s beautiful, strange, and invigorating all in one—just what I seek out all art for.
ALBUMS
5. Sinner Get Ready, Lingua Ignota
When women want to make a name for themselves in music, it can feel like the industry presents them with two doors: innocent naif or objectified doll. Lingua Ignota, aka Kristin Hayter, elected for Door Number Three: apocalyptic medieval priestess. Or at least, that’s the vibe one gets from a scroll through her discography, replete with track titles like “If the Poison Won’t Take You My Dogs Will” or “God Gave Me No Name (No Thing Can Hide from My Flame).” On this, her second LP, Hayter screams, mourns, and calls for bloodshed over an ominous organ, dire strings, and guitars which crash with the force of an angry demon, along with a whole orchestra of other unnerving instrumentation. More than any heavy metal, this is music to perform human sacrifice to—and yet it’s undeniably technically impressive and, in its own noisy, cataclysmic way, self-affirming! If you want girl-power rock that’s less tsundere and more sundering, Mistress Ignota demands your supplication.
4.The Atlas Underground Fire, Tom Morello
That Rage Against the Machine largely tapped out post-9/11 is arguably one of the biggest missed opportunities in music history, but guitarist Tom Morello never rested on his laurels: following the rise and fall of Audioslave, the man’s been cranking out consistent solo albums and side projects for almost two decades. In 2018, taking a page from Slash and other virtuoso contemporaries, Morello released The Atlas Underground, a collection of collabs that applied his gnarly, propulsive sound to artists ranging from Knife Party to Vic Mensa. 2021 saw the release of two spiritual successors, The Atlas Underground Fire and The Atlas Underground Flood, each with their own collage of diverse features (and unintentionally funny, Pokémon-esque album art). It’s the former of these LPs that won me over the most, though: the cover of AC/DC’s “Highway to Hell” with Bruce Springsteen fits both men’s styles like a studded leather glove, “Let’s Get This Party Started” gets Bring Me the Horizon on this list for the third year in a row, and “Naraka,” with its almost hymnal verses and Mike Posner (of all people) talking about killing cops, fascinates me more every time I hear it. The Machine may still need plenty of raging against, but Tom’s got it covered!
3.What it Means to Fall Apart, Mayday Parade
After 15-odd years in the saddle, one couldn’t be blamed for questioning whether the Florida quintet can still wax emo with the best of ‘em. To be sure, Mayday Parade largely leans away from their more complex, bombastic inclinations on this latest full-length, but their wistful lyrics and singalong hooks are as strong as ever. “Kids of Summer” kicks things off with a rousing ode to reckless youth, while “One for the Rocks and One for the Scary” is prime MP, starting off plaintive and sparse before erupting into an all-cylinders ode to fragile love (“we can do everything, we’ll start right here in this room… just don’t take off too soon”). Things admittedly peter out in the latter half: “Bad at Love” is so boilerplate that I thought it was a OneRepublic cover at first, and filler track “Heaven” feels named after the exact opposite afterlife, running a tired pun into the ground over a triphop beat for two-and-a-half minutes. On balance, though, the boys continue to age more gracefully than many of their peers, and still have me catching feelings as much as when I first heard “Jamie All Over” post-high school. The real oversight, though? No song named after a Calvin & Hobbes quote!
2. Kingdom II, Arcade High
The 80’s homage is a crowded subgenre these days; it’s all too easy to paste some rudimentary electronic riffs over kick drums, slap a neon palm tree on the cover, and call it a day. But Arcade High continues to outrun the competition with a mix of vocal and instrumental tunes targeted like a light gun at Millennial-era videogame vibes. The duo hearken back to fuzzy chiptunes (“Glow”), deliver a nod to Dark Souls (“DGYK,” feat. Jei-Laya), and even remix the title opener of 2016’s original Kingdom for some nostalgia of their own (“Welcome Back”). Not every track’s a hit—“Slay” is a perfect example of a song that’s catchy but not memorable, a repetitive and off-brand slab of dance-rock that had me wishing it’d perform as advertised by the first minute. But on the whole, making a trilogy of this “series” would be fine by me!
1. The Rearview Mirror EP, The Midnight & The Magik*Magik Orchestra
I turned 30 this year. I didn’t accomplish everything I once said that I would, by now—some of that’s on me, some isn’t. But when I inevitably reflected on my past with greater frequency in 2021, this was how the tranquil “now,” the wistful “then,” and the aching “maybe somebody” sounded in my soul. Veering away from 80’s throwbacks, L.A. duo The Midnight reimagine five of their top tunes with a wholly unprecedented vibe: out with the saxophones and synthwave, in with violins and piano. The transplant, however, breathes beautiful new life into their songwriting: As cool as tracks like “Endless Summer” and “Memories” felt before, they nearly bring a tear to the eye now—and when I saw the group live in downtown Tacoma in November, to celebrate my birthday, the latter’s lines never felt truer: “Summer days are growing colder… we’ll know better when we’re older.”
Honorable Mention: Heartwork (Deluxe), The Used
Heartwork made my last Top Stuff list, so I won’t dive into its primary tracklist much here, except to reiterate that it’s marvelous to see a group I’d written off as screamo has-beens turn around and drop one of my favorite albums of 2020. As is the style of late, however, they re-released it a year later with another entire record’s worth of cuts! But these are no mere B-sides—each tune could’ve readily been on Heartwork 1.0, continuing its themes of both literary references (“The Brothers Karamazov,” “Blood Meridian”) and love gone very, very bad, all while killing it with their chorus game (belting out “nobody hates me like you do / you’ve got that perfect misery” has no right to feel as good as “Mi Medicina, Mi Heroína” makes it). Wherever the band goes next, I’m now confident that time Used won’t be wasted!
SINGLES
5. “Fruit Roll Ups,” Waterparks
Waterparks is (are?) a lot of things: artists, self-aware industry critics, a boy band that also makes songs with names like “I Miss Having Sex But at Least I Don’t Wanna Die Anymore.” In that spirit, this year’s coyly titled Greatest Hits was—like 2019’s FANDOM—a bit too scattershot and longwinded to crack my top five. However, this track in particular really did a number on me; let’s just say that a ballad by a shut-in who likes junk food and horror movies, and “bought some really sick lights, if you want to come over,” hit close to home. The modern wave of electronica and hip-hop-tinged emo wasn’t around when I was a teen, but had it been, you can bet I’d have been sharing memes of lines like “If you want to see me acting so desperately, all you gotta do is stop texting me” left and right on my socials!
4. “I MISS 2003,” As It Is
TheLegend of Zelda: The Wind Waker. The Iraq War. Kill Bill, Vol. I. The Challenger explosion. 2003 was like any year, full of ups in downs. But as of January 1, 2022, there’ll be no children who were alive for it, and one thing those 365 days irrefutably had in abundance was a certain, special kind of youthful music: capital-P Pop Punk. Nearly twenty years hence, As It Is has struggled to find its place in what remains of that community, settling of late on an MCR-lite doom ‘n’ gloom aesthetic that I must confess doesn’t do it for me. However, on “I Miss 2003,” the quartet funnel this dreariness into a longing for the early Aughts that’s achingly potent to me and my fellow Millennials. Like a Hot Topic T.S. Eliot, the band stuffs the lyrics here with references to a dozen different emo mainstays, from Paramore to Good Charlotte, turning mashed-up lines like “tell me that you’re alright, cuz I’m not okay” into a veritable sonic time machine. As It Is are British, so call them phonies if you want for reminiscing about Americana, but I myself have always felt like an outsider to the scene—heck, I didn’t even really start listening to anything beyond my parents’ CD collection until about 2009. Since then, though, there’s always been a place in my heart for the rebellious, lovesick energy of this subgenre. “Now life is boring, let’s write a story where we never grow up…”
3. “Meant for Misery,” Settle Your Scores
While As It Is wallowed, for better or worse, in the salad days of pop punk, Ohio outfit Settle Your Scores charged forth like it hasn’t aged a day. To be sure, the band’s not opposed to hindsight—they themselves have a song called “1999”—but they blew the doors open on this year’s Retrofit with this snotty earworm about a universal sentiment: feeling like the world sucks and you just can’t catch a break. Really, hasn’t 2021 all made us feel like we’re “in the eye of the shitstorm”?
2. “Rise, Nianasha (Cut the Cord),” Coheed & Cambria
Coheed & Cambria has continued to surprise me, going from a group I respected more than enjoyed (can’t knock that sci-fi prog-rock hustle) to one whose every single enters heavy rotation on release day. 2021 brought two of them, the first being “Shoulders,” which nearly made this list with its rip-roaring riffs and classic tale of a damaged relationship (“maybe we weren’t made for each other, and I’m just the one you can keep around”). However, this second one edged it out, not just because it’s catchier by a hair but because it explores a dynamic that’s novel to me in pop, at least outside Cat Stevens or “Cat’s in the Cradle”: father-to-son love. “Call me, and I’ll be there when you need your great destroyer,” the speaker assures his boy—a Dad of the Year line if I’ve ever heard one! Given the maddening ambiguity of this space rock-opera to date, I’m fully prepared for Vaxis II (the presumptive next LP) to never satisfyingly piece this paternal saga together, but I’ll be singing along either way.
“The Last Picture Show (Lost Outrider Remix),” Arcade High
It’s a 2021 remix of a 2019 song, that was in the style of a 1980s song, named after a 1970s movie set in the 1950s. If there’s a more potent Matryoshka doll of nostalgia on the market right now, I haven’t seen it. Maybe it’s just having changed both my job and my city earlier this year, but something about the reflective lyrics—of Anytown melancholy and the promise of a better tomorrow—cut deep to my core, no matter how many times I hit “repeat.” Whether it’s escaping a bad day or rushing towards the promise of a good one, that same hope is still there when I hit the road, whether by foot or by car, and miles to go before I sleep: “They can’t catch me… I’m already gone.”
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Now go have a Happy New Year! Masks aside, I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling ’22. If nothing else, Elden Ring isn’t going to play itself!
Nobody reads the intros to end-of-year lists, so let’s get right to it! No books this year because everything I physically read was stuff I bought two or three years ago and only now got around to — and I’m all about keeping things current.
MY TOP 5 MOVIES OF 2018
5) The Night Comes for Us: With Iko Uwais and a cadre of colorful villains on deck, this spiritual sister to The Raid series — about a Triad heavy who incurs the wrath of his colleagues when he goes clean to save a girl — cements Indonesia as this generation’s epicenter for bloody, brutal, and overall badass martial arts action.
4) Annihilation: Hot off the success of Ex Machina, director Alex Garland administers another injection of sci-fi shock and awe with this adaptation of the acclaimed novel. The film expands on the source material’s meandering ambiguity in favor of a more explicitly horrific journey through a mysterious place where change itself is a deadly foe, without losing any of the story’s Lovecraftian dread and thought-provoking moments. “The bear scene” is a waking nightmare in all the right ways, and the climatic confrontation channels Kubrick’s 2001 in the transcendent paranoia it invokes.
3) Mission: Impossible – Fallout: It’s a longstanding joke that these missions can’t be too impossible if they manage to pull it off every time, but that very contradiction is a testament to the series’ ascension to the throne before which all other popcorn cinema kneels. With professional lunatic Tom Cruise at the helm, and a focus on practical stunt-work setpieces instead of the muddy CGI bonanzas which plague most blockbusters, this latest globetrotting adventure — while not the best yet (I’m still a bit sore over a few critical-looking scenes from the trailer not making the final cut) — proves the journey matters more than the destination.
2) Hereditary: An artist tries to balance work and parenting after her mother’s death, but as disasters and desperation continue to mount around the house, all hell slowly and surely breaks loose. Eschewing traditional jump scares in favor of a bleak, mysterious mood may not suit fly-by-night horror fans, but get in the mood and stick with it, and you’ll behold a series of last-act revelations so twisted and bizarre that you’ll be twitching at tongue-clicks and peeking over your bedsheets (specifically, in the corner of the ceiling) for many nights to come.
1) A Star is Born: Three remakes in, one would imagine this Old Hollywood tale would be played out, but with unprecedentedly vulnerable and grounded performances, Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga breathe new life into the story of a world-weary celeb falling for a rising starlet — with heartrending, unforgettable music every step of the way. Not much more to say; it’s just a simple, timeless, and beautifully tragic love story.
(Honorable Mentions) Ready Player One and Avengers – Infinity War: This Spring belonged to a pair of movies hinged upon jaw-dropping spectacle and “I understood that reference” elbow-nudging — and that’s a compliment. RPO’s is more of an E for Effort, admittedly, owing to its Death Star-sized plot holes and willfully contradictory message, but the result is nevertheless a fantastic collage of nerd fantasy that makes one proud to both be a gamer and have had an at least 80s-adjacent upbringing. Meanwhile, Thanos did the unthinkable and snapped the last Avengers adventure in two; though we all know they’re coming back, those final moments, where half of all the superheroes we’ve come to know and love over the last decade disintegrate in front of our eyes, are a landmark in the subgenre. I saw Spidey die in Iron Man’s arms, for Pete’s sake! (no pun intended)
MY TOP 4 TV SHOWS OF 2018 (didn’t get around to a fifth one)
4) Westworld: “These violent delights have violent ends,” warned the closing hours of Season One, and yet it turns out a violent new beginning was just around the corner. Without a doubt, some serious glitches popped up in the programming this year — watching the Abramsian mysteries of the park unfold and following the hosts’ ascension from unquestioning robots to bonafide humans in search of freedom was vastly more engaging than the familiar revolution antics which take up the bulk of screen time here, and a few attempts at mimicking that mindblowing twist with the Man in Black fall flat. And there’s not nearly enough Shogun World! (and, uh, Jungle World?) But at the end of the day, the environments are still gorgeous, the effects work still stunning, and the commitment to cerebral, character-driven sci-fi still a cause to be championed. Here’s hoping season three both gets back on track and keeps up the good work.
3) The X-Files: The X-Files’ revival in 2016 had a lot to prove, and it mostly went about that by having Mulder and Scully shoehorn references to Google and Edward Snowden into a script already straining to explain why two graying former enemies of the state would be welcomed back to the FBI with open arms. But once you get past the mother of all cop-outs in the opening minutes, Season 11 settles back into the classic groove of “monster of the week” assignments interwoven with high-stakes conspiracy capers. Aside from a bafflingly technophobic midway ep (which I’ve been meaning to do a video analysis of), this new batch of cases left me eager for plenty more.
2) Channel Zero – The Dream Door: Imaginary friends come to life. Eerie doors. Old secrets returning to haunt our protagonists. There’s nothing in this fourth season of CZ that its predecessors (or, indeed, countless horror media) haven’t already shown us before, but the way it presents those tropes with lingering, uncannily grounded cinematography and a propulsive (albeit aesthetically questionable) synth score creates a memorably disturbing chapter of the creepypasta-cooking anthology series.
1) The Haunting of Hill House: Can grounded family drama and blood-curdling horror coexist? That’s the question both this Netflix miniseries and the protagonists themselves ask, as adult siblings reunited with their estranged father in the wake of a tragedy must grapple with their inner demons — and some outer ones. Director Mike Flanagan channels the dual-timelines conceit of his sleeper hit Oculus into another exploration of the fear inherent in confronting traumatic childhood memories, and even though it’s a square-peg/round-hole presentation at times (it really shouldn’t take this long for someone to just come out and say what actually happened when they were kids), the result is still a binge-worthy horror-mystery where the haunted house is as much a character as the dysfunctional people — alive and dead — wandering its halls. Not only that, but it’s the rare piece of ghost-focused media where whether the spooks exist or are just metaphors isn’t a binary interpretation. These spirits are real, but so is the all-too-human pain they represent and carry on.
MY TOP 5 ALBUMS OF 2018
5) Neon Future III, Steve Aoki: After two concept albums and countless intermittent collaborations (including a well-intentioned but heinous remix of “Welcome to the Black Parade”), Steve Aoki gamely maintains his DJ cred in an era when the genre’s mainstream fame is fading with this hat trick of straight-up bangers steeped in solid features (blink-182!) and science-tastic interludes.
4) ye, Kanye West: Yeezy garnered some not-unjustified scorn across 2018 for his scattershot, contrarian political ramblings, but from the unhinged confessions of “Yikes” to the hypnotic yet tormented outro to “Ghost Town,” this succinct LP is ironically his most focused in years — even if that focus is, as always, on Kanye.
3) M A N I A, Fall Out Boy: I was prepared to call this album one of the worst of the year when I first heard it, but chalk that reaction up to bad marketing and outdated expectations. The trap-EDM trash fire of a promo “Young and Menace” is wisely relegated to a penultimate slot on the tracklist, and while my inner emo will always miss the verbose, self-loathing ramblings of vintage FOB, what remains are some of the most badass, head-bopping pop tunes in the scene today. You may not believe Patrick Stump anymore when he declares “I’ll stop wearing black when they make a darker color,” but that won’t keep you from singing along.
2) The Unheavenly Creatures, Coheed & Cambria: For most of their career, C&C’s musical sci-fi epic “The Amory Wars” has been a chore for me to enjoy, much less understand — “Welcome Home” aside, most of their output is heavy on obtuse worldbuilding and light on memorable riffs. But with this debut to a promised pentalogy, the boys have struck pop-prog gold. While a number of tracks still drag, the highs are higher than ever — the title track soars like its titular dark angels, the pleading chorus of “Toys” is an earworm against all odds, and only a dead man could avoid na-na-na’ing along to “Up in Flames.”
1) A Star is Born (Soundtrack): Was there any doubt? Combining rock, folk-country, pop, and show-stopping piano ballads with vocal interludes delivers a roundabout audio version of the film which invites repeated listening for any mood. “Shallow” deserves every bit of praise its crescendoing urgency has already received from countless others, and “I’ll Never Love Again” wraps a simple ode in a stunning, shimmering farewell that brought me dangerously close to manly tears.
MY TOP 5 SINGLES OF 2018
5) “KILLSHOT,” Eminem: Em got off to a shaky start this year in the wake of the profoundly mediocre “Revival,” and an abrupt follow-up in “Kamikaze” — while proficiently a return to form — still felt more like a collection of insecure grievances than a confident release (and the contractually obligated turd-on-top “Venom” didn’t help). But when Machine Gun Kelly had the audacity to call him out, Shady responded with a blistering dis track that delivers a public lesson in respecting your elders. Now if only he’d spit that kind of fire on a consistent basis!
4) “We Appreciate Power,” Grimes feat. HANA: No doubt influenced by the time with Elon Musk on her hip, the pop charts’ resident goth girl delivers a dark, dominant, and undeniably catchy siren song on behalf of our inevitable robot overlords. What will it take to make you capitulate?
3) “Slow Dancing in the Dark,” Joji: Plenty have scoffed at George Miller’s transition from grotesque YouTube clown to glitched-out R&B crooner, but as an always-aspiring renaissance man myself, I say more power to him. While his debut LP this year was a bit too weak overall to make my list, this plaintive, dreamy early track establishes that the “Joji” name could have serious staying power.
2) “Never Sure,” Mayday Parade: Melodrama and fragile young love have been the name of the game for this Tallahassee quintet going on twelve years, and while the band bucks convention by dialing back their operatic side, the juxtaposition of clichéd and achingly real sentiments (“I know how much that it makes you cringe / to think about you and I as friends / together forever until the end”) — held together by a humble yet powerful chorus — get their latest record “Sunnyland” off to an unforgettable start.
1) “Choke,” I DON’T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME: “IDK” lifts its name proper from a Back to the Future quote, but a more apt geek reference for this breakout single would be “Aliens” — the merrily acid-tongued delivery of lines like “if I could burn this town, I wouldn’t hesitate to smile while you suffocate and die” puts Xenomorph spit to shame, and recalls vintage Panic at the Disco in all the right ways.
MY TOP 5 VIDEOGAMES OF 2018
5) Tetris Effect: Tetris is, by at least one metric, the most popular videogame of all time — but for better or worse, only so much could be done to modernize it (no, Tetrisphere doesn’t count). That was, until this year, when the revelatory decision was made to draw inspiration from the trippy rhythm-based puzzlers that’d seemingly lapped Tetris in relevance. Combined with virtual reality functionality and side modes that upend the very convention of four-sectioned tetriminoes (heresy!), you’ve got a basic but peerlessly addictive game that more than justifies its invocation of the titular psychological compulsion.
4) Super Smash Bros. Ultimate: Since the original Super Smash Bros. almost twenty years ago, each entry has distinguished itself in some way: Melee unwittingly set the standard for the self-fashioned genre of “party fighter,” Brawl doubled down on fanservice with an ambitious story mode, and Smash 4… well, you could play it on two different systems? Iunno, that one was kinda just okay. But Ultimate aims right out of the gates to be the definitive Smash Bros. experience: Everyone really is here — over 70 fighters, with more on the way — and even novice players are bound to notice tweaks both large and small that refine the combat to a unprecedented T. Only the focus on a trading cards-y “Spirit” system in lieu of classic modes like Home Run Contest and Break the Targets hampers the game’s potential GOAT status. Overall, though, it’s a well-oiled machine of cartoonish clobbering effectively two decades in the making — and plenty worth the wait.
3) A Way Out: In an age of online-only multiplayer, one could rightly wonder whether the split screen is dead. Fortunately, from the makers of indie sleeper hit Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons comes a short but sweet title that not only allows two players to share the same TV but requires it. You and a friend assume the role of freshly imprisoned felons seeking to fly the coop co-op, but what starts as a Shawshank-esque jailbreak turns into a wild adventure full of shocking developments and clever puzzles that require timing and teamwork in equal measure. You’ll either love or hate your compatriot by the end, but you won’t be able to deny the experience is one for the ages.
2) Marvel’s Spider-Man: With great power comes… well, you know. But Marvel and developer Insomniac were as responsible as could be in crafting this outstanding superhero adventure, and while its combat cribs shamelessly from the Arkham series, the result is an action-packed open-world brawler that makes you feel like the Webbed Wonder as never before. In a virtual Manhattan stuffed with gadgets, side missions, Easter eggs, and more, there’s never a dull moment, and the rejiggering of famous friends’ and foes’ roles ensures even dedicated fans won’t quite know what to expect (even if you’ll be checking your watch for when Dr. Octavius has a certain workplace accident).
1) God of War: Like Uncharted 4 before it, this soft reboot of the deicidal hack-n-slash series accomplishes the seemingly impossible in transforming its focus from mindless adventure fantasy to an earnest, deeply emotional journey. But this is no touchy-feely walking sim — mountains split and monsters bleed with equal intensity to its predecessors, and with a groundbreaking “single-take” camera style, Kratos’s fights and feats feel more raw than ever. If it weren’t for some samey enemy variety and “expanded universe”-style plot threads left frustratingly strewn across the story, this game would be practically perfect — with how well it deservedly sold, the sequel will hopefully pick up the slack ASAP.
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Now y’all go out there and check this stuff out if you haven’t already, but be sure to set aside some time to create your own art, too! And have a Happy 2019.
I first conceived of this poem years ago, when Honors English introduced me to T.S. Eliot’s “The Waste Land” and I got an urge to produce a modern version that’d aggressively borrow from my own favorite stirring songs and stories. It sat there until now with only a few lines (that I swiftly deleted), but the tone remains what I had in mind–albeit more worldly now for the self-awareness I’ve gained.
In the interest of treating this like an airlock for my own melancholy, I didn’t listen to any music while writing it or reflect on songs I used to listen to for “inspiration.” If “ISYMFS” was cleaning out my closet, consider this taking the bags to the curb.
The Teenage Waste Land
This love was out of control.
Tell me, where did it go?
Cold, open—I crawl from the rubble
of bubbly optimism come crashing down
like C4 to a ceiling.
Heels to headboard, bed is a hospital ward,
recuperation indefinite. Now all I can do
is lay in my room, fall asleep, dream of you,
then wake up and do nothing about it.
Songs of ready-made restlessness
spoon-feed solidarity to a tired heart.
And yet…
take a number, I guess.
We all have a story to tell, so it might as well
go through a few drafts.
I still remember how I made you feel, once upon a time,
but the market for fairy tales ain’t what it used to be.
I will soon forgot the color of your eyes, but I don’t mind.
Everyone will die and lose,
so what will you do with the moments before it catches you?
Never asked, always implied,
and I am thinking it’s a sign
in the rearview, those lines I cast
before I cut loose and floated away:
Just say how to make things right, and I swear I’ll do
whatever makes you happy,
if it means a lot to you.
Put like that, I get why
guy drama is relationship strychnine.
So, know what?
Cast your stones, cast your judgment—
you don’t make me who I am.
I’m a patient man, as you’ve discovered,
and my passion was pen and paper all along.
Are we only damaging what little we have left,
to ever reconnect?
Hell yes.
Nature abhors empty shelves;
the stories of my generation won’t tell themselves.
Let these hazards of love nevermore trouble us.
Growing old’s a fact, but growing up is optional.
Yet every line I write’s a cost-benefit analysis.
Is the world better for hearing how morning light looks through my blinds,
or a childhood anecdote recounted in rhythmic alliteration?
And who would know once I do?
Quickly but surely,
circular illogic draws me back to routine:
wait and debate, try and flail,
rush and submit… shit.
One rejection:
a mental injection of barbiturates,
carte blanche to bitch about luck
and how there’s not enough time.
I guess I’ll go home now.
But it is plain as anyone can see, we’re simply meant to be
the person we picture when our head touches down—
that gap between dim aspiration and REM respiration.
By morning, I always find the words
when it’s too late to let them slip
and fall, for fear of my stand looking awkward.
Dreams are the only thing smothered above a pillow.
So a few weeks, and I’m back
on the horse—a kick, and it’ll stick!
I swear, this time I mean it.
Yet self-set deadlines feel like a vice
of virtue.
So I vow if I don’t follow through…
well, shoot.
Eh, some hell will break loose.
To penciled-in punishment, what a shock when there’s mere pages
for all the ages I’ve celebrated.
Maybe we were made for each other,
and maybe the world will look like this forever.
The kind of lie that stretches out hope
like a prisoner on the rack.
Still, palm to palm or ink to page,
it was believable, from a window looking on an alley.
I know I sound crazy—don’t you see what it does to me?
The chance I simply swapped rash ambitions,
the artist’s star in lieu of a lover?
Feathers to gold, the value unbudging?
The pleas for an ingénue cross to an audience:
You’d be good to me, and I’d be so good to you.
Why can’t you just be lonely?
This suit, this smile,
this gel-shellacked hair, this friendly Facebook exchange
is just a part I portray.
And I know exactly how it got this way:
Everybody needs some time all alone,
but if you left it up to me,
every day would be a holiday from reality:
a freestyle frenzy of riffs, rides, cliffside hikes,
artificial flavors for the screen and stomach.
It could be seventy-two degrees, zero chance of rain
—a perfect day—
and I’d still take ten thousand gigs of digital infinity.
Too much of anything is too much,
except when the alternative is failing
at the only work I ever chose.
I always get in my own way,
but dammit, that means I’ll hit myself on the way to the ground
and keep fighting on.
I can’t change the way I see the world,
and I can’t justify my reasons, but
if life is a sea,
then a living is a boat,
and hope is the shoals to which I sail:
some distant, shining semblance of fulfillment.
But it’s so far away,
and the rowing is so tiresome.
It’d be so simple to just go overboard, sink into an ocean
of promotions and prefixed expectations—
boxes to check, T’s to cross, watches to gild—
and let crash the waves of rationalization and procrastination:
action movies, YouTube, Steam, doodles and daydreams.
I need your discipline.
Just tell me the way I ought to feel, what’s right and wrong.