I'm afraid it's time to admit this newsletter has slowly (and predictably) devolved into something you can only really depend on coming at the end of the year. Looking back at my substack activity for 2024, I realise now I mostly exploited the privilege of your collective inboxes to self-promote Cuneiform Tabs. For that, I apologise. I doubt many of you really mind. But, if the absence of regularly updated recommendations has actually bummed you out, I should flag that I am FAR more active posting links on the slow doses telegram channel, which you can follow HERE. If you do enjoy a little wind-bagging and curation with your links, however, by all means read on.
Because this will be the third consecutive year I've made this list it has been interesting to observe specific patterns in the names and releases I've found myself gathering. The reliable labels and stalwart artists, so to speak. In some ways it's led me to question whether this exercise is as much about spot-lighting new music as I once thought it was? Maybe time and habit turn everything predictable? The point is, I was a bit shocked to realise that practically everything that blipped for me (with a few exceptions, of course) was either an artist or label I've featured here before. Maybe it's time to start turning over new rocks? Maybe I am who I am and I like what I like?
This doesn't mean I think 2024 necessarily sounded like 2023. And if I were to compare the list I'll be presenting below to the round-up I posted last winter (or any list I've made since I started this thing in 2022), I'd say it all distills into a couple identifiable themes:
I'm increasingly interested in "dance" music though I'm incredibly self-conscious writing about it. As the most litigiously taxonomised genre besides metal, it's hard to do and not to feel like a poser.
I am (still) positively ALLERGIC to the revival of 90s alternative and am specifically annoyed by the apathetic art-school version which seems so pervasive and chic now…
This has been thrown into stark relief by the astounding records lately released by different types of 'revivalists’.
I'm finally a bit oversaturated with the hauntological home-made folk of Scandinavia and northern Europe.
Rather than drag out the prologue any further let's knuckle down into the releases themselves. As usual, nothing here is "rated". In the past I've opted to sort my recommendations chronologically. This year I'm gonna attempt to group my picks using some arbitrary criteria that hopefully gel into cogent connective tissue. Also, I'm mixing the reissues with honourable mentions as footnotes to the individual sections.
*****
"Good For the System"
I recently moved and assembled the first proper hi-fi I’ve ever had. Nothing bananas, just some pieces with decent reputations for modestly sized rooms. The boost in quality has changed what my ears crave. Outside of breathing new life into parts of my collection I had kind of forgotten about, I will say that “dance”/beat-oriented music has been sounding particularly good to me these days. Part of that is also living in London, where one is spoiled for choice when it comes to hearing that stuff in the wild. All of which is to say a lot of my fav records this year have been techno releases.
Rezzett — Puddings (RZ)
This concise EP is a delectable and woozy exercise in a very specific type of wobble I find pretty irresistible. The tracks have plenty of movement, but in a contentedly tipsy sort of way. Lead off, Plum Duff, is particularly nice; a dizzy tone setter centred around a core melody that sounds like a toucan hiccuping. From there things spin out in shorter meditations on that theme, all resolving in the light dose throb of closing track, Treacle.
Loidis — One Day [Incienso]
Loidis is by far my favourite of the Brian Leeds projects. This is not only the album I’ve played the most this year, but likely my favourite as well. It hits a very specific sweet spot I feel like I’m always chasing but can never seem to find; “dance” music that is as psychedelic as it is loping and endless feeling. I’ve seen this release compared to classic Chain Reaction records in a lot of other places and, while I do think it’s accurate to describe One Day as an iteration on that specific legacy of dub techno, I also think there is something distinctively warmer and more pointedly lysergic going on here. Every track contains the same gauzy, deceptively complex, and soft-touch melody Leeds has mastered as Huerco S/Pendant. What’s unique to this release (and different even from the excellent Loidis EP from 2018) is the positively vibrant injection of tempo present on nearly every track of this album. Deliciously trippy movement.
Skee Mask — ISS010 (Ilian Tape)
Not quite as elegant as the Loidis LP, but absolutely capable of taking me similar places. Bit tougher and more immediate, maybe.
Ivan Robirosa — Scred (SELN)/Country Western (Wain)
The labels of SELN, Lost Domain, and Wain Records comprise my favourite contemporary “sound” coming out of London. There's a lot of overlap between artists like Conrad Pack, Leeway, and Ivan Robirosa (as well as their respective aliases and side hustles). These particular Robirosa releases both really landed for me. Demented, mean, and propulsive.
AceMo — Moblu (self-released)
Of the three LP-length collections Acemo released this year, I’ve come back to Moblu the most. Seemingly driven by a loose narrative concept, Moblu finds a deft balance between immersive and wobbly lo-fi head trips with intermittent bursts of on-the-grid gravity eaters. I wish someone would press this up on LP.
SnPLO — Lastday Cookie (Pin)
Sneaking right under wire for '24, I only heard this a week ago and can already tell I'll be listening to it far into next year. I'm loathe to use genre signifiers like “minimal” or “micro-house” to describe this (mostly cause I'm not positive I know what they mean), but suffice it to say this record trades in a specific type of remove that I find really engaging. Its as if the set of sonic components which are endlessly looping hypnotise you into hallucinating your own motifs and melodies into the components that feel deliberately obscured and blurred.
reissues and further notables:
*****
"The Shampoo Drinkers"
Call me crazy, but nothing wheedles its way into my heart quicker than recordings which sound the way the grotty carpeting in a practice space looks and smells. That is, like a tangled nest of instrument cables and little red blinking lights, all improbably melding into sounds both unrefined and non-replicable. I use the "Shampoo Drinker" descriptor a lot around here as a catch-all for artists and records that take me to this specific zone. I guess it's all about immediacy, amateurism, and a nihilistic flair for the psychedelic, to some extent. To me it's an evergreen "genre" precisely because it doesn't actually exist or mean anything outside of this vibe I find singularly evocative. Not the largest graduating class of SD's this year, but a rock solid crop all the same.
Green Tea — Owl Arcana (Satatuhatta)
Satatuhatta, the Finnish noise label, churns out killer releases all year (20 plus in 2024). That I landed on this Green Tea CD is almost arbitrary; it's status as my "favourite" of this year's crop is a bit relative (more Satatuhatta releases are gonna pop up down the list, too). What's interesting about Owl Arcana is in how deftly it ranges from harsh noise to new age sound-scapism. In specifically blending the two expertly, part of what this release demonstrates is how transportive and meditative a well made harsh noise record can actually be. I don't expect everyone to feel the same, but I always feel oddly refreshed after scraping my brain out and rinsing it with pulsating puffs of static.
Nærværet – Når Man Ser Inn I En Annens Hjerte (Satatuhatta)
This just came out as I finished putting this together and I’m not quite finished digging all the way into it. Can already tell it's a highlight, though!
Goldblum – Tears In Limbo (Bergpolder)
I gave this curious EP some very hasty love in my hurried Covid dispatch this June and it's only grown on me more since. As I mentioned there, I consider this prankster music somewhat in the vein of Hype Williams. It's where the comparison stops, however, that this release becomes interesting to me. For one, Tears in Limbo is explicitly an album of samples; short, repetitive, and hypnotic samples. As a result, it feels less like a trojan horse for covert pop aspirations and more overtly an album conducive to dissociative drug use. There's also a repeating and bizarre glaze of jazzy/lounge-y hokum that really ratchets up the gonzo factor.
Vessel — Vessel (Diazepam)
Another title I tipped in June. This one hasn't just grown on me, it's a short lister for my fav release of the year. This tape feels like a lab-grown-for-me hybrid of kosmische synth improvs and 90s japanese noise/drone. While it's tempting to say this record plays a bit like a newly discovered Cluster or Ash Ra Tempel bootleg from 1971, doing so would do a disservice to the intentionality of the hostile fidelity this psychedelic music is so very purposefully wrapped up in. The trippiest part of Vessel is its atmosphere; a haze filled with components and sounds you can just about describe, but not quite. It's also actually quite scary music, and as much as it can evoke certain Florians and Klauses, it has a harsh industrial veneer that also marks it as a classic Diazepam release. Maybe the best they've done?
reissues and further notables:
*****
“String Theorists”
Something like the opposite of the Shampoo Drinkers, the string theorist tag is here deployed to indicate artists whose precision and meticulous mastery of songcraft is the key mark of distinction. These records can also produce interesting questions about revivalism and guitar music more generally, too. Is it possible to make an album with a guitar at the centre without critics thinking first about the music of the 20th century? Does it matter? At the end of the day, this section is about melody and songwriting so well done and arresting it cannot help but disrupt your sense of time. I'd further contend that there is a crucial difference between an album that detaches you from the present and one that deliberately uses the past for affect or as a signifier of taste. If any of the records listed below happen to recall the sounds of a bygone era, I'd argue that's likely because it is tempting to compare them to canonised masters…
Cindy Lee — Diamond Jubilee (W.25)
I'm all over this and it doesn't bother me in the least that the cult of Cindy Lee now includes legions of entry-level pitchfork readers. Don't really have much to say here that hasn't been said in loads of other places already; this "LP" is a massive achievement in addition to being a fascinating experiment in formatting. Diamond Jubilee is an album so expansive that it feels more akin to a career retrospective like the classic VU box set "peel slowly and see" than it does any discrete album. It's actually really difficult to digest this in one go. So, instead, I've found myself integrating it throughout my daily listening. It's just kind of always been on since April. Furthermore, how Diamond Jubilee is situated to the rest of the Cindy Lee catalogue is something of a further curiosity; is this a masterful brain dump ahead of an eventual persona retirement? Will Pat Flegel return to making concise, dynamic, documents that play and feel more like traditional albums? It's remarkable that after delivering this much brilliant and new music in one go I find myself asking so many questions about where and what's next for this project.
Jessica Pratt — Here in the Pitch (Mexican Summer)
Like Diamond Jubilee, this is another transcendent release that has basically already been canonised by everyone from pitchfork to the new york times. In terms of the growth it showcases and the new audience it seems to be reaching, Here in the Pitch will inevitably change the way people discuss Jessica Pratt from now on. It's also another release that has been exhaustively profiled elsewhere and with far more detail than you'll find here. I'll just say this record is a magic trick. One where the intimacy and dense modal sophistication of Pratt's songwriting is given a seemingly weightless upscaling of palette. The effect is astounding. Here in the Pitch manages to simultaneously sound intricate and lush while still maintaining its vital immediacy. All of which has been particularly evident if you go see it performed live. Look around and you'll notice a rapidly growing audience of listeners who all get to feel like she's singing directly just to them.
Johnny O’Donnell — MEmBraNe (self-released)
Full disclosure: Johnny is probably my oldest friend. So, while I’m sure that no small degree of proxy bias absolutely precludes me from being a purely objective critic of his music, I am well certain in my conviction that he is a true underground original. His ample back catalog is full of thrilling pop frankensteins stalking the humid, macabre, and romantic swampscapes of his mind. He is a canon-focused songwriter with a particular affection for American eccentrics ranging from Leon Russell to the Mothers of Invention, even Michael Jackson. His most widely available release is an EP he made with Van Dyke Parks, for instance. This record (his second in 2024) is easily his most understated and also his most convincingly psychedelic. Built almost entirely around voice and acoustic guitar, MEmBraNe is a graceful delivery system for restrained studio tricks and dream logic lyricism. While Johnny is a songwriter who has basically only ever sounded like himself, the tone and arrangements of MEmBraNe remind me most of Robyn Hitchcock’s I Often Dream of Trains. Which, coincidentally, also happens to be one of my favourite albums ever.
reissues and further notables:
"One helluva player…"
I normally prefer the amateur to the virtuoso, but I can be just as taken with mastery as the next nerd. Below is a short list of major standouts by artists who can indulge in some toots, squeels, and noodlin’.
Chris Cundy — Of All the Common Flowers (Ear to the Ground)
Cundy had a 7” a couple of years ago that I really flipped for. Much as I liked it, though, I couldn’t help but feel that the abbreviated format wasn’t quite right for the content. I’m so grateful, then, there is now a long player of his water colour-like sketches for bass clarinet. Long ago I likened him to a non-macho/non-athletic Colin Stetson (see: elegant, understated), a comparison I think still holds. Another one I wish was pressed up on wax!!!
George Kuo — Kiho’alu: Stories in Song, Vol (Dancing Cat)
I am not ashamed to say that I “discovered” this release mindlessly reading through a “bandcamp daily” article while avoiding my actual job. Don’t let the cover fool you, this is much, much better than it looks. I know very little about slack key guitar outside of whenever Fahey has affected it (not that I can reliably recognise when he does, either), but this gorgeous record has started a true slack key phase for me this year. Now I’m on the hunt to find his first LP.
Venediktos Tempelboom — Syne Vuyle Hoeck (Kraak)
Another excellent platter of Jack Rose-esque gothic twelve string from Venediktos Tempelboom. For anyone who, like me, flipped for their cassette from 2022 (also on Kraak), this full length iteration (which is also on wax!) should function as rare and spooky mana from the bog.
Solar Unity Ensemble — Upstream (Ultraääni)
Hyped on this record and basically everything that Ultraääni does. The best contemporary jazz label going, imo.
reissues and further notables:
“The Jelly Steppers”
My patience for slow-motion music has ebbed a little bit. I’ve found that if/when I’m in the mood for something amorphous, I tend to either lean a bit more on the noise side of things, or I’ll prefer if there’s a little thudding beat underneath all the gauze. When done well, however, I still have all the time and patience in the world for a good drone/ambient record. I’ve managed some good meditative couch melting this year to the following…
Free Tala — Underwater Sounds to Lure Fishes (Satatuhatta)
It wouldn’t be an end of year round-up for me without highlighting something from the ever-reliable Finnish ace Juho Toivonen. This record, his second released under the alias of Free Tala, is the first of his to show up on the aforementioned Satatuhatta. There is a certain on-the-nose-ness about this record that's baked right into its title. And in keeping with its nautical theme I’ll say that where Toivonen’s music normally reminds me of gas and vapour, there is something distinctly aqueous about this record. Maybe I’m just open to suggestion but, as someone who grew up on a damp northern island, the three tracks presented on this LP are evocative of hallucinating sounds in the fog of a marine layer while catching the scent of oil on iron at a ferry terminal early in the morning.
Miro-Benjamin Lindström — Unessakaan ei voi välttyä ratkaisun etsimiseltä (AKTI)
This record (coincidentally out as a CD on Toivonen’s label, AKTI) has a couple distinct and compelling modes. It pivots between almost chamber-like organic/reedy pieces and smeared, foggy drone. In its best moments it gives me strong Turman/Flux vibes.
ITX035 - MPU105 (Ilian Tape)
Brendan Moeller — Signal (Constellation Tatu)
I’m grouping these two releases together as they both play as good companions to much of the dance music I recommended earlier in the newsletter. Each possesses a light and kosmische propulsion that render them cousins of much the trippy/beat-oriented stuff I loved this year. Where they are distinctive, however, is in how they suggest movement without quite fully delivering it. Both manage to play with space and openness in such a way that they invite you to fill in the gaps yourself which, if you can't tell, is shaping up to be a theme for the newsletter.
Florian T M Zeisig — Planet Inc
This excellent cassette manages to smuggle some killer dubby techno in with its more predominantly stretchy ambient goop. 2024 seemed to be a particularly busy year for Florian T M Zeisig, but this release (from back in Feb) is still the standout for me.
reissues and further notables:
*****
“The Pencil Necked-Geeks”
A sister category to the “players”, perhaps, these records are notable in how they lean more towards aspects of what students might call “modern composition”. While this entire list is arguably a pretentious exercise, I would say that — even compared to their peers — these releases are particularly suited for the wine and cheese crowd. I suppose I’m suggesting these albums feel almost academic in a way. Not a derogatory signifier, by any means, just an indication of which parts of my brain they happen to tickle.
Jack Sheen — Croon Harvest (Trilogy Tapes)
I was lucky and managed to catch a live performance of this piece at the Camden Arts Centre this February. It probably included about 25 people all perched on wooden stools, each with pre-recorded hiss and static buzzing from their phones while they intermittently sang sustained tones at sub-conversational levels, all coalescing into pulses of harmony. I definitely caught a Meredith Monk/Fluxus style vibe from the whole thing. While this recording doesn't quite do justice to the stereoscopic experience of being able to move around and inside its gentle but enveloping sound, it still really works for me as a facsimile of that experience. A bit more theatrical than a dream house and almost as transporting.
Läuten Der Seele — Die Reise zur Monsalwäsche (Hands in the Dark)
I’d describe Christian Schoppik’s 4th album under the Läuten Der Seele alias as “orchestral-scale collage”. Where previous work — particularly with Brannten Schnüre — has felt drawn in longform loops that open and close as patiently as flowers, this LP shifts and pivots between movement and texture in a way that feels newly dynamic for him. The effect is stunning. This LP is chock full of both sound and ideas. What’s remarkable is that the edits which connect them are just as seamless as Schoppik’s earlier, more high-viscosity work.
Alepher — Dodges Aim (Stroom)
A digital only behemoth that trades in both Henry-esque concrete-ism as well as K. Leimer style melodic new age. Dodges Aim is — among many other things — a masterclass in sequencing. It’s rare to find records which are so consistently rewarding for both passive or active listening. This is because this is an album that actually dynamically curates how you listen to it. Which, at 33 tracks and 2+ hours, is really something.
reissues and further notables:
*****
“Don’t Forget to Use Your Green Ears…”
…is a childish phrase one of my best buddies and I use to indicate when a recommendation will be particularly lifted by smoking some grass. A lot of what I’ve recommended this year feels pretty rooted in the city, but a big part of my heart still belongs to pastoral psychedelia. That is, to head music well free from ableton. For the hill people!
Shakali — Rihmatossa (Not Not Fun)
This record would have been absolute catnip for me 10 years or so ago, and it is still hitting all my sweet spots. I don’t throw on Arica or post-synth era Popol Vuh as much as I once did (though I probably should), but when I’m in that mood, this baby fits right in there.
Eftergift — Vatten Över Vatten
My fav release this year from Discreet Music, this one fits into the noisier side of their catalog (which happens to be my preferred contingent of the ever prolific Gothenburg scene). My fav two Forlag/Discreet releases are probably Hugo Randulv's Radio Arktis and the Dream Autopsy LP by Drifting. Vatten Över Vatten manages to remind me of both while also carving its own icy path through the forests of hiss.
reissues and further notables: