Undrcurrents started at the height of COVID, a time where I had little to do but sit around my apartment and listen to music. As the years passed, the world has opened up; though COVID is still a real concern, it doesn’t have the same stranglehold on everyday life that it did in 2020. This year marked a return to a lot of practices that were mainstays of my life pre-COVID: working in an office, traveling, making ceramics.
Much of this has been positive, but there’s also been a clear shift in how I’m able to spend my time; there’s just a lot less of it to go around. I had far less time to listen attentively than any year of this blog’s existence. As a result, I heard and wrote less. I was unable to write about some albums I really enjoyed. This year end summary provides an opportunity to correct some of those misses and shout out some of the music that was able to cut through the noise.
What does 2024 hold? Who knows, but I’m sure there will still be some great music worth writing about.
The Tubs – Dead Meat
The Tubs, a self-described “Welsh boyband”, are the latest group to emerge from the ashes of the much beloved Joanna Gruesome. While there are certainly echoes of that band here (especially when its former lead singer Lan Mcardle provides backing vocals), The Tubs have a much sunnier and less overtly noisy sound than their predecessor. The eccentric pop of Martin Newell or Lawrence are both good reference points, as is a British folk-rock master like Richard Thompson; their songs are more focused on jangly melodies and sticky hooks than the controlled chaos of Joanna Gruesome. Perhaps my favorite thing about a Tubs song is that it doesn’t grasp for any sort of unearned, uplifting conclusion. It’s music that understand that beauty, despair and humor can all be felt in any given moment, refracting each one through its buoyant melodies.
Parannoul – After the Magic / After the Night
Parannoul, the lauded mysterious Korean bedroom pop project, released two killer albums this year. In our mid year roundup I shouted out After the Night, a live album that documented the project’s first performance (backed by a who’s who of the current Korean underground rock vanguard). That album has held up to repeated listens, but I’m less and less sure it’s got anything over After the Magic, the project’s sophomore studio album. In many ways, they’re two sides of the same coin; where After the Magic is filled with immaculate soundscapes and carefully constructed climaxes, After the Night is a rawer, more gritty interpretation of many of the same songs. Taken together, they’re a portrait of one of the most exciting artists working today.
Mystic 100s – On A Micro Diet
Had Milk Music existed in the 80’s, I have no doubt they would have ended up in Our Band Could Be Your Life. Their 2010’s output felt indebted to the fuzzy SST-style punk of many featured players in that book, and they also seemed to operate by the same DIY principles as those artists; their music has been consistently made on their own schedule without heed to commercial appeal or press cycles. After a six year absence, the group has reemerged with a new name (Mystic 100’s) and an almost entirely new sound. Though hints of the old Milk Music remain (see the relatively straightforward rocker “Windowpane”), they’ve largely transformed themselves into a sprawling jam band. You can hear hints of Hendrix, Young and even Bitches Brew-era Davis, but it’s the band’s almost telepathic connection that pushes this music to the next level. They act as a single unit, each stray idea or apparent tangent eventually revealing how it connects to the greater whole. It’s a marvel to watch unfold.
Vayda – Breeze
Atlanta rapper Vayda had a breakthrough year in 2023, releasing three tapes of breathless rap miniatures. Barely any Vayda song cracks two minutes in length; in an interview with the great No Bells earlier this year, she explained “everyone has short attention spans…even if it’s my song, I don’t have the attention span to listen to it for that long”. Breeze, the first of her three albums from 2023 (and my personal favorite), sounds like the product of an internet poisoned mind in the best way possible. These are songs built almost like a TikTok video; they’re easily digestible, attention grabbing and never outstay their welcome. Jumping effortlessly between styles and genres, Vayda builds a more interesting set of songs than any algorithm could hope to serve you.
Nondi_ – Flood City Trax
From its opening moments, Flood City Trax had me hooked. Muffled, blurry synths rattle around for nearly a minute, serenaded by swirling ambience. Rhythms emerge from and recede into the background, making their presence known but never forcing their way into the spotlight. That opening track, “Fcd (Floaty Cloud Dream)” does exactly what its title promises, constructing a gauzy, dreamlike sonic confection. Over the following eleven cuts, Nondi_ uses footwork, breakcore, ambient and even strains of video game music to build a series of dreamscapes, each hovering in some liminal space between reality and fantasy. Many of the obvious influences here are rhythm heavy genres, but Flood City Trax somehow manages to make them feel light and airy, almost as if they’re being heard through a dense fog. A near perfect debut.
Monde UFO – Vandalized Statue To Be Replaced With Shrine
What first drew me to Monde UFO’s hallucinogenic pop vignettes was the seemingly disparate set of influences cited in their press release: exotica, bossa nova, free jazz, drone, and indie rock. Once I actually listened, what kept my attention was the peculiar gravitational pull of their music. A typical Monde UFO song is equal parts fever dream and cryptic alien dispatch, the fantastical blurring into the mundane; angels and devils consort and prophesies unfold against a backdrop of trash filled forests and vandalized churches. These stories play out against an equally fluid musical backdrop, one that can sound like Stereolab one second and Gilberto Gil the next. Untangling all these references is only half the fun; it’s music that stands easily on its own merits, pulling you into its orbit and refusing to let go until its final notes ring out.
Jim Legxacy – homeless n**** pop music
After an impeccable run of singles in 2022, Jim Legxacy capitalized on that momentum with a long awaited full length project. Take “dj”, the lead track on homeless n**** pop music: Legxacy’s fragile vocals float above an airy instrumental that sounds as much like forlorn emo as it does an Afrobeats track. This ability to fuse genre in unpredictable ways is one of the great pleasures of Legxacy’s work, providing the same kind of thrill that 1000 Gecs did a few years ago. Even though the aforementioned singles make up nearly half of homeless n**** pop music, Legaxcy still manages to both surprise and impress: see the cascading vocals on “block hug” or the more straightforward rapping of the title track (complete with what sounds like a Dizzee Rascal sample). Looking back at the year, he’s still operating in a lane all his own.
HITECH – DÉTWAT
HITECH’s music is best described as ghettotech, a genre whose history stretches back to the 80s in Detroit and incorporates the sounds of Detroit techno, Chicago ghetto house and Miami bass. As someone who is casually acquainted with much of this history I’d be hard pressed to explain the finer points of how HiTech are moving this genre forward, but I can tell you DÉTWAT is one of the most enjoyable listening experiences I’ve had this year. It’s twitchy beats are complemented by raunchy lyrics, some single phrases repeated for rhythmic effect (my personal favorite, from “POCKET PUSSY”, involves a Fleshlite) and others closer to full on rap verses. Endlessly listenable, compulsively danceable and laugh out loud funny, this is essential listening.
Home Is Where – The Whaler
After becoming the face of fifth wave emo, Home Is Where’s sophomore album feels hellbent on living up to the sky-high expectations surrounding it. In short, it’s a concept album set in a time warp where 9/11 occurs over and over again whose songs are as influenced by Jeff Magnum as they are by Bob Dylan. You may or may not pick up on this exact narrative, but the message at the core of the album is clear: even when accumulation of traumas (to name a few, assaults on trans rights and reproductive rights, police brutality, mass shootings, ecological disasters) makes every day feel like another national catastrophe, as a society we trudge on in the face of these unbearable tragedies. Whether you interpret their message as hopeless or hopeful, one thing is undeniable: it’s a wildly ambitious swing that hits its mark straight on.
Ratboys – The Window
Ratboys have been a Chicago institution for over a decade, but their latest album represented a critical breakthrough for the band; it was certainly my entry point into their universe. In many ways The Window is a straightforward album, kind of the platonic ideal of Midwest indie rock. But it’s also the sound of a group of musicians searching for something new, stretching their sound in subtle ways. The band spent hours listening to their favorite albums for inspiration and it shows in the album’s sonic diversity; you get the soaring rock of album opener “Making Noise for the Ones You Love”, the subtle twang of “Morning Zoo” and the guitar heroics of the nearly nine minute epic “Black Earth, WI”. This is ambitious indie rock that never forgets the fundamentals: catchy melodies and great songwriting.
Asia Menor – Enola Gay
The Chilean record label Sello Fisura was one of my favorite discoveries of the year, a nearly decade old label that has been quietly releasing some of the most interesting music in the world. Asia Menor are a four piece from Temuco who’ve been honing their material and building a reputation locally via live performance. Their debut album feels like the work of a band that’s arrived fully formed. It’s post-punk guitar rock, but what elevates it in a crowded field is its unpredictability. They can seemingly shatter and reform rhythms and melodies at will, most tracks zigging when you expect them to zag; these are intricate, complex songs that are made to sound effortless. With Enola Gay they’ve cemented themselves in my mind as one of the most exciting rock bands working today.
BBBBBBB – POSITIVE VIOLENCE
What is the line where music becomes noise? Or noise turns into music? Artists have been interrogating this question for years, and BBBBBBB (pronounced one letter at a time) fall into that long lineage. I’ll be frank; the self-described “digital hardcore” project is not easy listening, nor is it something that I expect to return to on a daily basis. But when the right mood hits, it scratches an itch for loud, intense music better than anything else I’ve heard this year. Sure, it helps that there are melodies and genuine songs lurking beneath their sonic onslaught, but what elevates POSITIVE VIOLENCE for me is its sense of irreverence; in a genre that often feels staidly serious there are genuinely silly moments both vocally and musically that pierce through their buzzing static and howled vocals. It’s the kind of record that rewards close listening, and one that feels destined to become a cult classic.
Flooding – Silhouette Machine
I love Slint. I love the way that they turned guitar rock into something spidery, spindly, and atmospheric. Part of the reason I love the sophomore album from Kansas City’s Flooding is that sound is clearly embedded in their DNA, but I also love this album because it takes those ideas in unexpected and new directions. Equal parts slowcore languor and noise rock intensity, Flooding seamlessly blend sludgy riffs and howled vocals with gentle, atmospheric melodies; tracks switch between these two modes on a dime, the album’s highest highs coming as a result of the tension and interplay between them. A criminally underrated highlight of the year.
Ruth Garbus – Alive People
I first became familiar with Ruth Garbus via her 2010 album Rendezvous with Rama, a dreamy, gently blurred take on folk music; it’s still one of my favorite albums of that decade. Her latest, Alive People, is a live album like no other. For one thing, you’d be hard pressed to even recognize it was recorded live. There aren’t any of the sonic markers of the crowd: no clapping, no cheers, not even a cough or a rustle. There’s also no stage banter, at least in the traditional sense; small improvisatory snippets from Garbus and her collaborators serve as brief pauses between songs, but we don’t hear anything resembling a back and forth between performer and audience. Yet there’s still an ineffable quality to these recordings that can only come from performance; you sense the electricity in the room, the audience enraptured by each swoop of Garbus’s voice and each keenly observed lyric. Alive People is a testament to the power of Garbus as a songwriter and performer, but it’s more than that: it’s the rare live recording that manages to capture the medium’s unique power.
Lewsberg – Out and About
I’ve thought of Lewsberg in the past as little more than a Velvet Underground tribute band; they were really good at what they did, but I didn’t find much there beyond a healthy appreciation for one of the greatest bands of all time. Judging from their latest album, Out and About, that assessment was grossly unfair. The Velvets influence is still very much present, but the group has taken that foundation and transformed it into something all their own. They’re a little bit twee, a little bit dreamy, a little bit angular, yet never aping anything; they try out some weird ideas (i.e. a soundscape accompanied by spoken word lyrics) that end up being highlights. Perhaps the variety and risk taking on display here is due to the collaborative nature of the album’s creation, with each member contributing songs. Whatever it is, Lewsberg hit it out of the park on this one.
ML Buch – Suntub
If you told me that Suntub, the sophomore effort from Copenhagen’s ML Buch, was a long lost nineties alt-rock masterpiece, I’d believe you. For one thing, there’s the actual sound of the record; many tracks explore the waterlogged guitar sounds that Brad Wood and Liz Phair coaxed out of the instrument for Exile in Guyville, while others flirt with different classic sounds of the era (i.e. the alt-rock stylings of “Big Sun”). It also feels like a CD era relic, a bit overstuffed to take advantage of the medium’s capacity but somehow all the better for it. But there’s a lot more going on here than pure pastiche. There’s an uncanny valley quality to everything: the sound is a bit too crisp, the lyrics bizarre and visceral. It sounds instantly familiar on a cursory listen yet becomes more and more alien as you dig into the details. One of the finest sonic trompe-l’œils I’ve ever encountered.
Ryan Davis & The Roadhouse Band – Dancing on the Edge
Ryan Davis has charted his own path across the musical underground over the last decade, as a member of bands like State Champion and Equipment Pointed Ankh and as the head of the consistently excellent Sophomore Lounge. On his first LP under his own name, Davis enlists a cadre of collaborators (among them fellow members of Equipment Pointed Ankh, Joan Shelley, Catherine Irwin of Freakwater and Will Lawrence of Gun Outfit) to flesh out his spin on country music. On the surface, Dancing on the Edge is unobtrusive music. It’s pleasantly melodic, falling somewhere between cosmic Americana and the David Berman school of singer-songwriters. But as a lyricist, Davis is adept at spinning turns of phrase that will make you snap to attention. I’ll refrain from enumerating them here, but a huge part of the joy of listening to this album is discovering these small moments; they may pass you by on a first or second listen but will hit you like a ton of bricks on the next one.
Joey Nebulous – Joey Spumoni Creamy Dreamy Party All The Time
Joseph Farago began writing songs in his dorm room in 2015, eventually evolving from a solo bedroom pop project into a full band. Though the influence of indie pop miniaturists like Greta Kline is obvious, what differentiates their debut album from a plethora of music operating in a similar vein is its specificity. With songs pulled from over half a decade of music making, the album feels like a reflection of Farago himself. There’s plenty of pining over boys, but there’s a lot more. You get a sense of his cultural lexicon: The Great British Baking Show, Bob’s Burgers, Scarlett Johansson, Kristofer Weston, DJ Khaled. Tracks like “Prunes” (whose only lyric is “I like prunes cause my daddy likes them too”), which could easily be throwaway filler in lesser hands, imbue the proceedings with a sense of irreverence. Farago’s distinctive singing voice, a warbling falsetto that could be divisive to some, feels like the only vehicle that could deliver these songs. Joey Spumoni Creamy Dreamy Party All The Time is an undeniably comforting listen, but it’s also one that only Joey Nebulous could have made.
John Francis Flynn – Look Over the Wall, See the Sky
The folk scene in Dublin produced a number of great albums this year, and although Lankum’s latest album seems to have been a consensus pick on many year end lists (it’s great), John Francis Flynn takes my vote as the best album to come out of that milieu. Covering songs is an art; being able to bring someone else’s words and melodies to life is a skill that not all artists possess. On Look Over the Wall, See the Sky, Flynn proves himself to be one of the best interpreters working today, taking traditional music as a starting point and transforming it into something psychedelic and otherworldly. Opener “The Zoological Gardens” begins a cappella but slowly builds an eerie atmosphere behind Flynn’s vocals, while “Mole In The Ground” plays out like a blurred fever dream. It’s an inventive, audacious interpretation of the past that feels utterly modern.
+ 31 more albums
Agriculture – Agriculture
Ana Frango Electrico – Me Chama De Gato Que Eu Sou Sua
awakebutstillasleepinbed – chaos takes the wheel and i am a passenger
Barbara Manning – Charm of Yesterday…Convenience of Tomorrow
Big Blood – First Aid Kit
Blue Ocean – Fertile State
Charlene Darling – La Porte
Chuquimamani-Condori – DJ E
Duke – Early Instrumentals
Fatboi Sharif – Decay
Florry – The Holey Bible
Goat – Joy In Fear
Greg Mendez – S/T
Honour – Àlááfíà
Hydroplane – Selected Songs 1997-2003
KOU – KOU
Loraine James – Gentle Confrontation
Margo Cilker – Valley Of Heart’s Delight
Maric BC – Spike Field
MC Yallah – Yallah Beibe
Nina Harker – S/T
Niecy Blues – Exit Simulation
Quade – Nacre
quannnic – Stepdream
Sluice – Radial Gate
Svitlana Nianio – Transilvania Smile, 1994
Tara Clerkin Trio – On The Turning Ground
Tyvek – Overground
Veeze – Ganger
Vulture Feather – Liminal Fields
Wayne Phoenix – soaring wayne phoenix story the earth and sky
+ My favorite 2023 year end lists
Looking at most year end lists can feel like a permutation problem; it’s not particularly interesting to see where SZA or Sufjan Stevens will fall in the top ten of every mainstream publication. The most interesting year end lists are ones that have a unique point of view, one that allows you to actually discover music you missed. I endeavor to do that here, but there are plenty of other folks who are also doing the lord’s work. Here are a few personal highlights; happy listening!
Rosy Overdrive Top 100 Albums of 2023
Make Believe Melodies’ 100 Favorite Japanese Albums of 2023
No Bells Best Internet Rap
Mando Gap Top 40 Mandopop Albums of 2023
Post-Trash’s Year In Review 2023
Pitchfork Favorite Rap Albums of 2023
Crack Magazine’s Top 50 Albums of 2023
Sound of Confusion’s Year End Shows