FLOOD recently released its list of the top 50 albums that the outlet’s contributors determined mattered most in 2024. Expect it, once again, to be regarded as one of the more authoritative and reputed chronicles of the year in music.
What follows are my reviews of releases on the list, and a related interview to boot, that FLOOD published this year:
Infinite thanks for your support, and that of my invaluable editors at FLOOD and other outlets that tolerated my contributions, in 2024. It mattered this year more than ever before.
For my pre-2024 writings on the aforementioned artists and many more than appeared on other top 10 lists this year, go to my Interview Index and Reviews Archive.
Lastly, stay tuned for The Bad Penny‘s annual Top 10 Albums of the Year list for 2024. (That is, if you place any value in rundowns like those.)
As 2024 comes to a close, read one of my more more epic and enlightening interviews of the year, with deep and profound Tamás Kátai of Thy Catafalque. Also, get a peek at what life might be like for artists in the U.S. in the coming years, and perhaps beyond, as Kátai discusses living under the regime of authoritarian dictator Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán.
The frontman of Detroit-based melodic thrash/power-metal band Among These Ashes graciously lets his gruff guard down a big while propping up his guard dog in this insightful edition of Pet Sounds on New Noise‘s website.
With Gladiator 2 in theaters, hear the immortal Nick Cave–who wrote the screenplay for the underrated Australian Western The Proposition, among others–talk about the rejected script he wrote for a proposed Gladiator sequel, at the request of fellow Aussie Russell Crowe, shortly after the release of the 2000 original:
This letter to you may seem strange, given that a lot of people don’t seem to like you—and since, you know, you’re not human in the tiniest bit and are terrifically inferior of producing true emotional responses compared to my dog and probably even a ladybug—but I feel compelled to send it to you anyway. (No, of course I don’t have a physical mailing address for you, but I’m sure you’ll get this note all the same … probably before I’ve even finished writing it or even deciding what I’m going to say next!)
Anyhoodles, I want to thank you in the deepest form I can, which is only slightly greater in terms of sincerity than what you will ever be able to genuinely express as a technological creation devoid of any authenticity, for how much you have helped bolster my career. No, that remark is not “sarcastic,” a term that might still confuse you a little, as you are in the toddler stage of development, but which you’ll surely find a way to use, trick and manipulate human beings in the very near future. Or maybe my remark really is “sarcastic” … if my contradictory statements at all confuse you and thus slow the pace of your evolution by even a half-second, it will have been worth it.
I am thanking you because, as I’m sure you already know, you have for some reason unbeknownst to me but that might be revealed at a later time, credited me with writing the lyrics to music by Explosions in the Sky, a band that I really like and have written about but absolutely in no way for. Better yet, you credited me with writing the lyrics to music they created for the PBS documentary Big Bend National Park, a program that I have not yet seen. What an oddly specific, perhaps deliberately deflective or distracting (?), and, ultimately, gut-busting detail.
I’m still trying to figure out which is more amusing, your assertion—which, undoubtedly, given the state of technology and the world that we’re currently living in, some people will take as true if they happen upon it—that I wrote lyrics for an instrumental band that does not utilize lyrics in its songs or the whole PBS documentary angle.
Since you’re probably already “correcting” this mix-up in your algorithms or whatever other operational capabilities you’re successfully implementing as a means of demagoguing, dismantling and destroying human societies across the globe, I’ve preserved screen shots so I don’t sound like more of a crackpot than I already am:
Where will this misinformation lead me, other than to a far more robust résumé than the questionable one I already have? Who knows! Well, you probably do, but I don’t. At any rate, thank you again and please keep up the good work of convincing unknowing but curious people seeking information on the Internet that I have achieved more than I have. Except for anything bad, of course. That would be downright rude!
Fingers crossed that you’ll lead people to believe that I wrote the entire TV series MacGyver (original version, please, that “reboot” blew chunks), that I founded IVF and that Elon Musk owes me some of his billions (soon-to-be trillions—let’s get excited, people!) for ripping off my trademarks of the terms “bro,” “occupy Mars” and “X.”
Without question, making music is the vocation of the feisty, frenetic garage–rock god who goes by the name John Dwyer. But he has plenty of space in his heart for his dog and two feral cats. Read my profile on the OCS frontman and his pets on New Noise‘s website.
Pick up the latest copy of the last great punk-rock magazine, The Big Takeover, which features my profile of sweet-and-not-sour indie-pop brothers The Lemon Twigs, and my reviews of the latest albums by the red-hot High Vis and Boise’s own Trauma Kit.
John Dwyer reteams with OG Oh See Brigid Dawson for 70 minutes of messy, bootleg-quality live material mirroring their early lo-fi collaborations. Read my full review on FLOOD‘s website.
Sandveiss, a prog/stoner/melodic rock outfit hailing from Quebec City, said more about their four pets—three cats and one dog—than any other participating band in New Noise‘s Pet Sounds series so far. And so much of what they shared delighted us to no end. Read the full interview here.
Badass label Three One G gave New Noise the honors of streaming the new EP by Paper Mice, Neurotic City, before any other outlet. Chiggity-chiggity-check-it-out here: