Loud and Quiet's Albums of the Year 2024

It’s no surprise that “PARTYGIRL” is the name Charli xcx adopted for the DJ nights she put on in support of *BRAT*. It’s kind of her brand anyway, but on her sixth studio album, the British pop star is reveling in the trashy, sugary glitz of the club. *BRAT* is a record that brings to life the pleasure of colorful, sticky dance floors and too-sweet alcopops lingering in the back of your mouth, fizzing with volatility, possibility, and strutting vanity (“I’ll always be the one,” she sneers deliciously on the A. G. Cook- and Cirkut-produced opening track “360”). Of course, Charli xcx—real name Charlotte Aitchison—has frequently taken pleasure in delivering both self-adoring bangers and poignant self-reflection. Take her 2022 pop-girl yet often personal concept album *CRASH*, which was preceded by the diaristic approach of her excellent lockdown album *how i’m feeling now*. But here, there’s something especially tantalizing in her directness over the intoxicating fumes of hedonism. Yes, she’s having a raucous time with her cool internet It-girl friends, but a night out also means the introspection that might come to you in the midst of a party, or the insurmountable dread of the morning after. On “So I,” for example, she misses her friend and fellow musician, the brilliant SOPHIE, and lyrically nods to the late artist’s 2017 track “It’s Okay to Cry.” Charli xcx has always been shaped and inspired by SOPHIE, and you can hear the influence of her pioneering sounds in many of the vocals and textures throughout *BRAT*. Elsewhere, she’s trying to figure out if she’s connecting with a new female friend through love or jealousy on the sharp, almost Uffie-esque “Girl, so confusing,” on which Aitchison boldly skewers the inanity of “girl’s girl” feminism. She worries she’s embarrassed herself at a party on “I might say something stupid,” wishes she wasn’t so concerned about image and fame on “Rewind,” and even wonders quite candidly about whether she wants kids on the sweet sparseness of “I think about it all the time.” In short, this is big, swaggering party music, but always with an undercurrent of honesty and heart. For too long, Charli xcx has been framed as some kind of fringe underground artist, in spite of being signed to a major label and delivering a consistent run of albums and singles in the years leading up to this record. In her *BRAT* era, whether she’s exuberant and self-obsessed or sad and introspective, Charli xcx reminds us that she’s in her own lane, thriving. Or, as she puts it on “Von dutch,” “Cult classic, but I still pop.”

“I’m a bit of a disgrace,” Mabe Fratti tells Apple Music. “People see me performing and they think that I’m a very solemn person, but I’m not elegant at all in real life. You may find me wiping the snot off my nose in the street.” The Guatamala-born, Mexico City-based singer and cellist recorded *Sentir Que No Sabes* in collaboration with her romantic partner, producer and guitarist Héctor Tosta, combining passages of dissonance and experimentation with avant-pop, all inspired by Brian Eno, Talk Talk, and the modern jazz albums released by the ECM label. Lead single “Kravitz” pays loving tribute to Lenny Kravitz with a hallucinogenic mood enriched by brass instrumentation and jazz accents. Fratti talked with Apple Music about the album and the emotional risks involved in her artistic process. **Her songwriting process** “We tried many different processes on this album. Normally I start playing something, searching for ideas, then a melody develops and I build up an arrangement for it. On ‘Kravitz,’ for instance, Héctor took care of the guitar and keyboards, and he asked me to play on top of the beat. We were on a Lenny Kravitz kick at the time, and we became rabid fans. Héctor told me to think of Peter Gabriel, the *Scratch My Back* album, and I ended up playing a riff with an awesome modal richness to it. There were so many pizzicato songs on this record that I wanted to play the cello with a bow on one and add a delay, an echo. Finding the melody for that one was hard—and the lyrics, even worse. It’s part of my creative exorcism. Every song has its own process.” **The role of dissonance on the album** “I love to generate feelings of tension and release. I’m going to share my formula here—even though I hope to expand it as I grow in life. I’m very melodic with my voice, and consequently employ the cello as an agent to get those melodies a bit dirtier—to build up tension, stretch the sounds that listeners may identify with or not. I play with the limits of what is acceptable. I push in order to see how far I can expand myself in that respect.” **Her singing voice** “That technique is used in pop music, having the voice really up front. I want to reach a point where my vocals sound raw, because that’s what makes me happy. When you hear yourself singing or talking, you start paying attention to your flaws. As you make more records, the sound tends to become cleaner, with less reverb. I love seeing rawness and imperfection everywhere—in art, the streets, and people’s faces. Those are the things that I’m attracted to, and this album was an intense dive into that world. Héctor has the same vision, a common aesthetic that we share.” **Taking risks and experimenting with new sounds** “I see this as one of the most accessible things I’ve ever done. There’s a lot of groove in these songs. I listen to tons of new music that’s really amazing and highly adventurous. Clearly, those bands are being brave to put their music out there, because they run the risk of being misunderstood, or ignored. It’s abstract music, requiring so much sensitivity that many listeners won’t connect with it. So, from my personal perspective, my reaction would be: Are you kidding me? I made a record steeped in grooves. At least in the realm of my imagination.”

When artists experience the kind of career-defining breakthrough that Waxahatchee’s Katie Crutchfield enjoyed with 2020’s *Saint Cloud*, they’re typically faced with a difficult choice: lean further into the sound that landed you there, or risk disappointing your newfound audience by setting off into new territory. On *Tigers Blood*, the Kansas City-based singer-songwriter chooses the former, with a set of country-indebted indie rock that reaches the same, often dizzying heights as its predecessor. But that doesn’t mean its songs came from the same emotional source. “When I made *Saint Cloud*, I\'d just gotten sober and I was just this raw nerve—I was burgeoning with anxiety,” she tells Apple Music. “And on this record, it sounds so boring, but I really feel like I was searching for normal. I think I\'ve really settled into my thirties.” Working again with longtime producer Brad Cook (Bon Iver, Snail Mail, Hurray for the Riff Raff), Crutchfield enlisted the help of rising guitar hero MJ Lenderman, with whom she duets on the quietly romantic lead single (and future classic) “Right Back to It.” Originally written for Wynonna Judd—a recent collaborator—“365” finds Crutchfield falling into a song of forgiveness, her voice suspended in air, arching over the soft, heart-like thump of an acoustic guitar. Just as simple but no less moving: the Southern rock of “Ice Cold,” in which Crutchfield seeks equilibrium and Lenderman transcendence, via solo. In the absence of inner tumult, Crutchfield says she had to learn that the songs will still come. “I really do feel like I\'ve reached this point where I have a comfort knowing that they will show up,” she says. “When it\'s time, they\'ll show up and they\'ll show up fast. And if they\'re not showing up, then it\'s just not time yet.”

UK rock polymaths black midi accomplished so much in such a short time—and at such a young age—that the group’s sudden announcement of their indefinite hiatus in 2024 couldn’t help but raise questions. Geordie Greep’s solo debut *The New Sound* doesn’t so much provide answers as it does multiple pathways forward. black midi acolytes will recognize a few stylistic touches here and there that have carried over to Greep’s boundless musical map: jazz fusion breakdowns; multi-suite songwriting indebted to prog’s knotty weirdness; and Greep’s increasing penchant for all-caps storytelling, which previously reared its head on black midi’s swan-song-for-now *Hellfire* in 2022. Otherwise, *The New Sound* lives up to its title by reintroducing Greep as a musically omnivorous showman, as he leaps into the spotlight with outsized bravado and a wild-eyed sense of sonic fearlessness. Featuring an expansive cast of supporting players and session musicians—including black midi drummer Morgan Simpson—*The New Sound* is far-flung in locale and genre: Cobbled together over the course of a year from studio time in London and São Paulo, its 11 tracks are positively boundless in stylistic flourish. The easy bossa nova swing of “Terra” and the jazz-hands ascent of first single “Holy, Holy” recall Steely Dan bandleader Donald Fagen’s classic 1982 solo LP *The Nightfly*, while the two-wheeled angst of “Motorbike” isn’t far off from the discordant post-punk abstractions of the London-based Speedy Wunderground scene that black midi was often associated with. If that all sounds hard to pin down, just wait until you dig into the lyric sheet for this one, as Greep’s logorrheic maelstrom tackles the dark, impotent lasciviousness of male sexuality with explicit gusto. It’s provocative without being needlessly shocking, an impressive tightrope walk that marks *The New Sound*’s loopy idiosyncrasies as a whole.

At just 25 years old, with four solo studio albums and three as guitarist for North Carolina band Wednesday under his belt, MJ Lenderman already seems like an all-timer. The vivid, arch songwriting, the swaying between reverence and irreverence for his forebears, steeped in modern culture while still sounding timeless—he evokes the easy comfort of a well-worn favorite and the butterflies of a new relationship with someone who is going to have a massive, rich, and argued-about discography for decades. The songs go down easy but are dark around the edges, with down-home strings and lap steel adorning tales of jerking off into showers and the existential loneliness of a smartwatch. But in a fun way. And just as 2021’s “Knockin” both referenced erstwhile golfer John Daly’s cover of Dylan’s “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” and lifted its chorus for good measure, “You Don’t Know the Shape I’m In” honors The Band’s classic while rendering it redundant. But album closer “Bark at the Moon” represents Lenderman’s blending of sad-sack character sketches and meta classic-rock references in its final form: “I’ve never seen the Mona Lisa/I’ve never really left my room/I’ve been up too late with Guitar Hero/Playing ‘Bark at the Moon.’” Then he punctuates the line with an “Awoo/Bark at the moon,” not to the tune of the Ozzy song, but to Warren Zevon’s “Werewolves of London.” Packing that many jokes into half a verse is impressive enough—more so that the impact is even more heartbreaking than it is funny.

If there were any remaining doubts as to hip-hop’s MVP, consider the decision stamped: Kendrick Lamar officially won 2024. There were whispers that Compton’s finest was working on an album in the wake of his feud with Drake, a once-in-a-generation beef that kept jaws dropped for months. (Perhaps you’ve heard of a little song called “Not Like Us,” an immediate entry into the canon of all-time great diss tracks.) After a sold-out celebration at the Kia Forum, an armful of Grammy nods and streaming records, and the headlining slot at next year’s Super Bowl, Lamar ties up his biggest year yet with a bow with his sixth album, *GNX*, the most legitimately surprising surprise drop since *BEYONCÉ* in 2013. Named for his beloved classic Buick, *GNX* finds Kendrick wielding a hatchet he’s by no means ready to bury, still channeling this summer’s cranked-to-11 energy. On “wacced out murals,” he’s riding around listening to Anita Baker, plotting on several downfalls: “It used to be fuck that n\*\*\*a, but now it’s plural/Fuck everybody, that’s on my body.” (Yes, there’s a nod to his Super Bowl drama with Lil Wayne.) If you’ve been holding your breath for Jack Antonoff to link with Mustard, wait no more—the seemingly odd couple share production credits on multiple tracks, the explosive “tv off” among them. Still, K.Dot keeps you guessing: It’s not quite 12 tracks of straight venom over world-conquering West Coast beats. SZA helps cool things down on the Luther Vandross-sampling “luther,” while Lamar snatches back a borrowed title on “heart pt. 6” to remember the early days of TDE: “Grinding with my brothers, it was us against them, no one above us/Bless our hearts.” He cycles through past lives over a flip of 2Pac’s “Made N\*\*\*\*z” on “reincarnated” before getting real with his father about war, peace, addiction, and ego death, and on “man at the garden,” he outlines his qualifications for the position of GOAT. Here’s another bullet point to add to that CV: On *GNX*, Lamar still surprises while giving the people exactly what they want.