ACL 2024
The Top 20 Albums of the Year
This year, A Closer Listen received thousands of submissions and reviewed hundreds; today our international staff chooses twenty. Three former chart-toppers appear on this year’s list, while one artist appears for the fifth time, but half are new, while our top spot is an authentic surprise.
Collaboration continued to be a major theme; one album here is a compilation, another is a multi-artist tribute to a fallen friend, two are duos, the #3 artist appears on the #10 album and the #9 artist on the #15 album. In an often fractured world, it’s wonderful to experience the shared vision that art supplies. We’re grateful for all recording artists and everyone in the industry, and we’re especially grateful to our readers; may you find your next favorite album right here!
1) Rafael Toral ~ Spectral Evolution (Moikai / Drag City)
Rafael Toral’s Spectral Evolution is such a masterpiece that Jim O’Rourke dusted off his Drag City imprint Moikai after a two decade break for the occasion. Like many improvising composers who cut their teeth in the 90s, Rafael Toral put down the guitar in the early 00s, but rather than replace it with laptop or modular synth, he developed an idiosyncratic practice using small speakers and controlled feedback, inaugurating what he calls his Space Program (2003-2017). Otherworldly and unpredictable, not unlike no-input mixing, Toral’s practice is uniquely gestural, expressive, and spatial. Moon Field (2017) and Constellation In Still Time (2019), two excellent records released on Room40, announced the third phase of his career, which finds its full expression in Spectral Evolution. This new phase reexamines the ambient music of his early work through the post free improv grammar developed over the years with his electronic instruments. Not quite a fusion, as in some ways the strummed guitar chords sit oddly alongside the chirping of electronic feedback, the juxtaposition of these divergent practices form a transcendent synthesis, indeed one might say, a Spectral Evolution. There are jazz voicings in Toral’s guitar chords, and while there’s not the rhythm one associates with that genre, Toral is certainly making a statement with his compositional references. One 47 minute track on streaming, or 12 individual tracks on the CD, the ebbs and flows of Spectral Evolution remain the most fragile and sonically compelling pieces of the year. (Joseph Sannicandro)
2) Kali Malone ~ All Life Long (Ideologic Organ)
Malone’s excellent output as a composer keeps growing, and there is hopefully much more to come. All Life Long is proof of the artist’s confident evolution, an intricate alloy of contemporary musical developments beyond her chosen instrument, from the focused, more technical side of unique organ tonalities to the keen, yet broad concern with polyphony that minimalism has progressed through in the past few decades. The artist shows us there is work yet to be done, that musical process is less about interactive sequences, a naturalized, cybernetic system of calls and responses, and more about the weaving together of differing timelines of sound. It constructs no circuits, no phases, but tapestries and knots, an entangled history that speaks in all the languages of spirit, an organic device in which communication is not a signal, but a symbol. In it, there is no singular time of now, a deluge of moments; its pace is defined by the echoes of fading churches as much as by the creaking of concrete pavement under the sun. Life, after all, can extend infinitely, but it can also flash brilliantly within the span of a single second, never to be seen again. (David Murrieta Flores)
3) Moor Mother ~ The Great Bailout (Anti-)
The Great Bailout begins with a lovely vocal sung by Rain Was. Her ethereal voice trades lines with Moor Mother’s characteristic, deeper delivery over gentle electronics, harp, and flute. They sing about slavery, about trauma, about guilt alongside the legendary Lonnie Holly. Moor Mother’s albums are always about stories. About using music in the way that Black Americans have used it for centuries to process and manage life in all its horror and beauty. The Great Bailout is another in a series of excellent albums by the artist which engage collaborators and poetry to craft powerful interpretations of both history and current events. There is a lot of horror on this album, dark, dense soundscapes, but Moor Mother has proven again and again that rap, spoken word, and experimental music can be powerful tools of resistance. (Jennifer Smart)
4) Four Tet ~ Three (Text)
There is a blissful soundtrack to easy living and easy dancing. Despite the brightness and lightness of the music however, as with any Four Tet album, there is a lot going on sonically. The opener, “Loved,” is dominated by a persistent beat and lilting synthesizer melody, but occasional drum crashes drop in out of nowhere. “Gliding through Everything” is all glistening chimes and strings while on “Daydream Repeat” a house-inspired beat soundtracks waves of distorted guitar before giving over to Hebden’s trademark harp. “So Blue” is slower, its tones more resonant and piercing as a vocalist floats distantly above, but here the shuffling beat is never far away. It’s nice to know you can get as big as Four Tet has and still have time to work on perfecting a trademark sound, one that traffics as much in ambient shimmer as it does in a danceable beat. (Jennifer Smart)
5) Godspeed You! Black Emperor ~ “NO TITLE AS OF 13 FEBRUARY 2024 28,340 DEAD” (Constellation)
When Godspeed You! Black Emperor shook off the decade-long slumber between releases, we could have scarcely anticipated the run of five albums in 12 years that has followed. In a sense, the group haven’t changed – they wear their politics on their sleeve and their dynamic and emotive approach to post-rock remains – but the rest of the world has. It’s impossible to listen to NO TITLE… without thinking of Gaza; the assault on civilians (mainly children) referenced by the titles and the sleevenotes. It feels like pouring their rage and grief onto tape was the only way for GY!BE to respond; the result is a suite of six group compositions that are unmistakeably direct and politicised, and their best since the reboot. The self-doubt remains in the notes: while bombs are falling on hospitals, is this the right way to respond? But it’s pretty much all they can do; create and ultimately be optimistic. And yet, as of 10 December 2024 over 46,000 dead. (Jeremy Bye)
6) Concepción Huerta ~ The Earth Has Memory (Elevator Bath)
Befitting an album partly inspired by an obsidian mine (where the cover image comes from) and the potential descent to the centre of the earth, Concepción Huerta digs deep to create dark ambient drones. At times, it feels as if the music is being pummelled and churned by great land-moving vehicles; elsewhere, there is a sense of tranquillity among the heaviness. The contrast creates cohesion – rather than continually grind and judder, The Earth Is Moving occasionally eases pressure on the listener, which elevates the experience. What has probably cemented its place in the minds of our reviewers this year is the sense of uncertainty throughout; the music rarely travels where we think it will, and there are several unexpected diversions along the way. Earth-shattering drone with a few surprises; proper underground music. (Jeremy Bye)
7) Jlin ~ Akoma (Planet Mu)
Heavily influenced by the Chicago juke scene, Akoma is primarily an ultra-upbeat electronic album driven by complex, percussive rhythms. That said, it also features a surprising and impressive ensemble of collaborators– Bjork, Kronos Quartet, and Philip Glass– who help elevate the album beyond one single genre. Even the tracks featuring acoustic strings and piano have an essence of what has come to be defined as Jlin’s signature electronic sound, defined by an intense and unusual beat. The album blurs the lines between classical minimalism, experimental electronics, and club music, creating a soundscape that’s as cerebral as it is danceable. Each track feels like a journey, building layers of sound that challenge expectations while maintaining an infectious energy. Akoma is a testament to Jlin’s ability to innovate while remaining rooted in her influences, pushing boundaries in every direction. (Maya Merberg)
8) galen tipton & Holly Waxwing ~ keepsakeFM (Orange Milk)
keepsakeFM is the very definition of a guilty pleasure. It’s also one of the year’s most collaborative albums, as galen tipton & Holly Waxwing are joined by a half dozen other artists from the Orange Milk stable, a sign of strength for the label and a foretaste of things to come. This is the album I played the most often this year, especially over the summer as I drove to the beach and back, an hour drive each way. The non-stop mix is akin to a DJ set or radio show, justifying the title. The ebullience is constant, the grooves are fierce and the positivity is contagious. tipton & Waxwing also appear on estle’s It’s Always Been You, released in the heart of summer on the same label. Happiness never gets old, which is why this tape is still on replay. (Richard Allen)
9) KMRU ~ Natur (Touch)
Have I ever mentioned my horseshoe theory of German efficiency? I’ll let you fill in the details, but when Joseph Kamaru left Nairobi to study in Berlin, he was surprised at the silence that shrouds the supposed capitol of European nightlife, shocked also by the lack of contrast between day and night. Since breaking through with Peel (2020), KMRU has been prolific in his output, including solo records as well as collaborations with Aho Ssan, Echium, and Kevin Richard Martin. Earlier this year, KMRU extended his album Temporary Stored, which transformed materials from the sonic archive of the Royal Museum of Central Africa in Belgium, by inviting his contemporaries to respond to the historical archive. But Natur is a solo artistic statement, a composition that has been honed by years of live performance. The first half wades through digital noise, mildly abrasive and at times harsh, Natur evolves as natural sounds begin to emerge from the haze, a thick synth drone pulsing slowly along. But this is no simple bifurcation, no dialectic that find resolution. Natur transforms the contrast KMRU perceived between Nairobi and Berlin into a more universal statement on how our perception of reality is shaped by our relationship with technology. (Joseph Sannicandro)
10) Masayoshi Fujita ~ Migratory (Erased Tapes)
Masayoshi Fujita’s new album took us on a welcome journey this year. His mastery of vibraphone and marimba lies partly in balancing the expressive and the atmospheric. Billowing textures of sound emanate from synth, sax, and shō across this record. The gently exploratory side of of Fujita’s idiophones forms a vital part of these weather patterns. But like his guest vocalists (Moor Mother and Hatis Noit), Fujita can also slice through the cloudy ambience, his lyrical passages offering chinks of sunlight across the album. His compositions cluster around stories of loss, migration, and homecoming. Such tales take time to develop, generations even; hence, it is fitting that Fujita’s father contributes to three of these tracks. (Samuel Rogers)
11) The Necks ~ Bleed (Northern Spy)
What more can be said about The Necks? Collectively and individually, Chris Abrahams, Tony Buck, and Lloyd Swanton are responsible for some of our very favorite records. But if somehow you’ve managed to missout on this legendary Australian group with four decades of work behind them, their most recent album is always a good place to start. Bleed finds the trio at their most patient and restrained, unhurriedly and effortlessly beautiful. Whereas last year’s Travel and the previous year’s Three were divided into discrete tracks, for Bleed they have returned to their old standby of one long unbroken composition; there are distinct moments across Bleed, but it is clearly one piece. The Necks have the dynamic of a trio, always listening and always triangulating, but as multi-instrumentalists they maintain a range of sounds and structures without ever sacrificing their minimalist attention to detail. Abrahams’ solo piano makes the first cut, the low end thickened with Swanton’s bowed double bass, with Buck’s bell and chimes brightening the scene before a snare roll heralds a shift. When the double bass returns, it does so with newfound presence, but not so the percussion, whose delicate malletted cymbals and low rolling floor tom creep in as if they’d never left. The instruments bleed into each other, never rushing but never static. Each instrument is given space, periodically getting lost before emerging anew, knitting together and unfolding slowly across 42 minutes. Without ever building to an obvious climax or resolution, Bleed’s conclusion has to be earned. The one track album is not particularly suited to vinyl, so let’s add the success of Bleed as further evidence of the return of the CD as the preferred format. Bleed’s sustained tones recall blurry memories of jazz, its atmospheric space has the affect of ambient. Whatever we call it, Bleed demonstrates the unique musical communication that comes from playing together for nearly four decades. Sometimes stillness is the move. (Joseph Sannicandro)
12) Mary Lattimore & Walt McClements ~ Rain on the Road (Thrill Jockey)
Here we find, in Mary Lattimore, one of our decorated returnees from last year’s Top 20 list. This time around, her distinguished harp is joined by Walt McClements’s accordion. The album derives from an improvisatory meeting of the two, with synth, electronics, piano, and handbells filling out the beautiful space they share. Recorded in Walt McClements’s apartment in December 2022, this is a wonderful, restorative album for hunkering down in the winter. The richly sustained flow of air; the bright flurries of plucked string: as their dialogue develops, it becomes hard to imagine two musical voices we would rather overhear in conversation. This is an intimate record, but nonetheless outward facing. Each piece captures something of the sheer joy of the world, which we so often overlook as we rush through it. (Samuel Rogers)
13) Lola de la Mata ~ Oceans on Azimuth
The challenge of noise poetics is not only a matter of disorder and indeterminacy, it is also a question of processing, of the subjection of sounds to a series of operations that result in split identities, alienation, and connections in extreme affects. We assume there is a measure of voluntary avant-gardism in it, but what if this process is made not only unwillingly, but against the very someone that supposedly cedes control? Oceans on Azimuth deals with that generative negativity that is tinnitus, an entire field of inner soundscapes ever-beyond-grasp, the person an object of the body’s rebellious processes, a deep reconfiguration of what it means to listen. To listen not as principle of unity, but as one of fragmentation, of splitting, of pulling apart and away, a bodily projection against the wholesomeness of voluntary perception. The album’s clicks, its drones, its softened voices, its distorted crackles, its sharp electronic needles are all concrete creative interventions into the real, an aural grind in which we, the artist, and the world are processed into the realm of objects, of matter relentless in its spasmodic vibrations. A star might fix your sight for guidance, but all that surrounds it is pure, unhinged movement. (David Murrieta Flores)
14) Philip Jeck ~ rpm (Touch)
A collaboration with Chris Watson, last year’s Oxmardyke (which also made our Top 20 list) seemed to be the last work of a great experimenter, Philip Jeck. This year’s rpm is a Festschrift of sorts – a volume of dedications, reworkings, and collaborations that sees an impressive roster of sonic investigators clustering around Jeck’s memory. A master of the turntable, the loop, the manipulation of prerecorded sound, Jeck spent much of his career navigating the complexities and possibilities of memory – which can be tactile, audible, psychological, or otherwise. It is impossible to discern the boundaries between Jeck, the various source materials, the hardware, and the collaborators/commemorators on this album. Of course, that’s part of the beauty. Here we celebrate the ephemeral and transitory nature, not just of sound and media, but of human life itself. (Samuel Rogers)
15) V/A ~ harkening critters (forms of minutiae)
harkening critters takes us on a world tour not just to different countries, but through levels of biospheres. The album includes an expansive four hours of 33 field recordings, each of which comes from a different sound artist. The real stars of this album are the fauna whose unique voices, not ordinarily heard by most humans, shine through loud and clear. We hear from the pink dolphins of the Amazon river, the birds and monkeys of the forest canopy, and the insects burrowing into the earth below. The inevitable human contribution, or interference, is also present. Once in a while, a recording picks up a human voice or man-made machine. On harkening critters’s final track, “interspecies rhythm study,” Andrew Peckler engages in a musical conversation with a coral reef. The record implores us to listen (closely) to the world around us. It seems to say, “Hark! The animal kingdom sings.” (Maya Merberg)
16) Taylor Deupree ~ Sti.ll (Greyfade/Nettwerk)
Just the concept of Taylor Deupree’s St.il, an acoustic re-imagining of his seminal 2002 album Stil. was enough to grab our attention this year. In our original review of the record we wrote about some of the questions at the heart of such a project. What is ambient music? Can performers on acoustic instruments ever hope to recreate the machine-like precision of electronic music? Perhaps not, but part of the joy of this album is listening to it alongside the electronic original, reveling in the different feelings of each. Even in its acoustic form St.ill invites an attention to stasis and persistence, a quality of the music made all the more remarkable by the reality that these sounds are made by performers on clarinet, vibraphone, guitar, cello, and more. Their translation of Deupree’s sounds engage the same qualities of stillness and repetition but for the attentive listener carry all the unmistakeable micro variations of the human. It’s a beautiful album that uniquely bridges the gap between ambient and chamber music. (Jennifer Smart)
17) Warrington-Runcorn New Town Development Plan ~ Your Community Hub (Castles in Space)
Gordon Chapman-Fox is now five albums into his Warrington-Runcorn New Town Development Plan project – one no doubt beloved by journalists with a word count to reach. It seemed initially that this would be a one-trick pony, but WRNTDP has quite captured the imagination. In a sense, Chapman-Fox is the successor to the earliest releases on Ghost Box which created their own environment for the music; psychogeography is the popular term. Of course, the effort of producing these conceptual works would mean nothing if the music wasn’t up to snuff. There are moments of the bright, optimistic future that these New Towns promised, balanced by the icy chill and ultimate despair that is brought on by living and commuting in one of these towns. For a non-commuter living in a rural setting, this is almost escapism. For those whose daily grind is staring at spreadsheets in an office a 40-minute drive away, Your Community Hub is the soundtrack to your nightmares. Choose your lane wisely. (Jeremy Bye)
18) Max Richter ~ In a Landscape (Decca)
In a Landscape combines two pleasures, that of reading and that of music, suggesting that one be used as the soundtrack to the other. The bonus facet of this release is the interspersing of field recordings, which helps the listener to slow down and appreciate the depth of emotion. In the same way, a reader may pause to look into the distance, digesting a weighty or moving passage. The album makes the listener feel and think, a rare feat. Richter continues to be one of the world’s greatest composers, so much so that we forget how humbly he began, or that he once worked with Future Sound of London; he’s earned, and deserves, every accolade. (Richard Allen)
19) Li Yilei ~ NONAGE (Métron)
Each track of NONAGE is as mystical and fractured as the childhood memories it embodies. With track titles such as “Tooth, Wallflower and Salt” and “Sandalwood, Ivory and Summit,” the album seeks to capture the faint images and other half-forgotten sensory remnants that remain from simpler times now long passed. To achieve this haunting nostalgia, Li Yilei incorporates childhood instruments, including toy pianos and other pieces the artist handcrafted themselves, lending the album an intimate and tactile quality. These unconventional sounds are woven into experimental compositions that feel both fragile and otherworldly, as though they exist on the edge of memory. NONAGE invites listeners into a dreamlike soundscape where innocence and complexity intertwine. (Maya Merberg)
20) Sarah Davachi ~ The Head as Form’d in the Crier’s Choir (Late Music)
“A hidden refuge made of darkest longing,
the very doorposts of its entrance quaking—
you raised up temples for them in their ears.” (Rainer Maria Rilke, Sonnets to Orpheus I:1)
Inspired by the above and other artworks, Davachi made an album that feels like long-duration listening, like a mythical immersion into time that resists the flattening power of reason. Like Rilke’s attempt to conduct readers from the individuating chaos of nature towards the selflessness of artistic experience, The Head blurs the line between heard and unheard, between listening as self-articulation and as self-dissolution, the mess that is the particular definition of tone and timbre giving way to the light of ordered abstractions that is drone. As the animals were charmed by Orpheus’ song, their differences subsided, their roars and howls transformed into a silence that built a common inner world; the poet’s longing as a chisel with which to give shape, to create, to transform. The Head also longs, it molds time into obscured emotion, it makes us susceptible to making ourselves unheard, unafraid of the vibrations that in the artist’s able hands come to constitute the world’s aural architecture. Its beauty belongs to an epoch of which we know no starting date, and seems not to be destined to end. (David Murrieta Flores)
What do you suppose is the design thesis behind Spectral Evolution’s 12 tracks on CD condensed to 1 on streaming? A distrust of gapless playback to render the work as intended? Or a rigid preference for any section not to be heard out of context in a playlist? Something else? It saddens me to consider artists with album-length tracks only being paid some fraction of $.003 per album listen. Rafael Toral is not alone, here. I’ve noted a few albums released as one track recently.