Heavy Rotation 2024: An hour of my favorite songs from the past year

I spent the year convincing myself that I'm doing better—and while doing so I listened to songs that have a bit more of an edge. And yet some things remain the same...

Dec 06, 2024

Well, here we go. Another year over. Another rush to tell the world the media that we consumed, the culture that makes us better. For me, that means another playlist featuring my favorite songs of 2024, put together almost as painstakingly as the rest of them.

Like last year, some of these songs, if not most of them, appeared in my previous playlists, which really is the point, come to think of it. Like last year, these songs reflected not just the songs that I liked, but my state of mind over these past twelve months. I’m going to say I spent most of it trying to convince myself that I’m getting better, only to see setback after setback in the second half, and feeling not so much like I’m back to square one, but more like I got out of the board entirely. And yet I also find a bit more of an edge to this year’s playlist, not the angry kind, but the sort that just feels a little more different… if you put your mind into it.

So maybe it’s just me, then? Whatever. I genuinely hope you enjoy this playlist as much as I did putting them together. I’ll talk about the song choices further down, as always.

Lola Young—“Messy”

I remember picking up on some of the early buzz for Lola Young, but not thinking much about it until I finally heard “Messy”. (Not the radio edit; that just feels weird after you hear the album cut.) Between her sound and her not-exactly-confessional lyrics, I got the sense that the British singer has captured, with her second record This Wasn’t Meant For You Anyway, the confusing, unsettling nature of the past twelve months: us thinking everything is relatively okay, when in reality they’re worse, and they’re out to get you. And yes, I know, this isn’t a song about the big things—just a boy gaslighting a girl. But you know how universal things can be.

Gossip—“Crazy Again”

Hearing Gossip again in the past eighteen months or so has been an unexpected treat, because a part of me will always hear Beth Ditto yelping on “Heavy Cross” as a soundtrack to the first years of my post-uni life. But, while working on what could’ve been her next solo effort, she realized she could instead bring the band back together—and here we are. Real Power zaps with energy but is also oddly comforting (so, again, another apt metaphor to this year?) and, apart from the fact that I heard this song so much on foreign radio, “Crazy Again” carries the optimism we have to carry when we’re starting over. A rare tender moment for the band, and one much appreciated.

Beabadoobee—“Beaches”

I do realize that, between this song and “Crazy Again”, this is a one-two punch of Rick Rubin produced tunes. That said, this is the first time he’s worked with beabadoobee. The grungy, fuzzy sound of her earlier releases inevitably got cleaned up on This Is How Tomorrow Moves—but it also provides a clarity of purpose that somehow seemed more evident here. “Beaches” is the apex: sunny and shimmering, and also a bit foreboding in how the song tries to manifest its present forever. This, also, is this playlist’s “song that reminds Niko of what he will never have”. I smell a continuing theme…

Remi Wolf—“Cinderella”

I’ve had my ear on Remi Wolf for a couple of years now. I may not have caught her on American Idol—wrong time period for that for me—but one of her earlier songs, “Hello Hello Hello”, has made quite a mark on me that I was on the look out for when she dropped her debut full-length Juno in 2021, and her follow-up Big Ideas this year. “Cinderella” was the single I also could not get away from, not that I was complaining. It’s the same irresistible groove with a twinkle in her eye. I must have shaken my hips to this more times than expected… and all while I’m driving, so not sure if it’s a good idea.

Elbow—“Balu”

Now I’ve had time to think about it, Elbow’s latest album, Audio Vertigo, is undoubtedly the band’s grooviest. The sound hasn’t really changed—it continues on the same sonic trajectory the Mancunian band has been on since they went big on 2008’s The Seldom Seen Kid—but somehow the elements in this release make you want to grind your hips on whatever you’ve designated as a dance floor. (“Grounds for Divorce” is close enough, but the swagger there is rougher. But I digress.) “Balu” captures that vibe the most, especially as it goes all in on the synths. And that bass line. I could never get that out of my head for weeks.

The Waeve—“City Lights”

It’s difficult to resist this track. This just gets you. The Waeve—aka Blur guitarist Graham Coxon, and Rose Elinor Dougall, previously of the Pipettes—have been turning out interesting songs since they officially went public with the project in 2022. There’s the obvious duality—a Britpop icon and a doo-wop revivalist coming together with an ear for folk, or something, bit amped up. And they amp it up even further on their second album, which features this stomper that gleefully pilfers from David Bowie, down to the saxophone. But even this doesn’t provide an open window into everything they have to offer.

The Beaches—“Takes One to Know One”

Including the Beaches in this year’s Heavy Rotation playlist is partly to make up for the fact that they almost made it to last year’s playlist with the earworm “Blame Brett”, but mostly because the follow-up to it, “Takes One to Know One”, is even more defiant than its more popular sibling. The Canadian band subverts the premise of their bigger hit by taking some of the responsibility for a messy relationship, a sentiment that’s refreshing considering all the “it’s never me, it’s always you” in the zeitgeist. And by resisting the crowd-pleasing chorus—not that it’s a bad thing, because, again, “Blame Brett”—it lands the punch more efficiently.

Rosé and Bruno Mars—“Apt.”

Yep, I wasn’t expecting it myself. But in a year where intricate pop anthems from the likes of Sabrina Carpenter and Chappell Roan dominated our earphones, I found myself drawn immediately to this deceptively simple quick hit. “Apt.” made its way into my head so effortlessly I was hearing it, with no prompting, across my 76 hours in Hong Kong last month. And… sorry for bringing this up, but it also helps that this song is infinitely better than Rosé’s insipid first solo single, which I think says more about YG Entertainment than the artist.

Sylvie Kreusch—“Comic Trip”

Anyone who’s been reading the Once Monthly in the past year might remember that I entered a Belgian alternative phase, powered almost entirely by me listening to the radio station Willy during drives. Before I shifted to a French radio phase that meant a good amount of music that’s got a barely slightly different sensibility—still noticeable, if you think about it—went into my ears. It was Sylvie Kreusch, one of the country’s more prominent indie musicians, that got most of my attention, because of the one-two punch of “Popcorn”, which sees her reunite with former collaborator (and boyfriend) Warhaus, and then, “Comic Trip”, off the new album of the same name. It’s a fun little song (“boom, chika, wow!”) but has this vague veneer of cool that I’m inevitably attracted to.

Billlie—“기억사탕” (Remembrance Candy)

Was it inevitable that Billlie returns to this playlist after appearing in last year’s? Considering how the group hadn’t performed as a complete seven-piece since just after the release of “Eunoia”, perhaps. There’s also me going further in on my appreciation of the group—I did buy two of their CDs in Hong Kong last month. But from a musical point of view, “Remembrance Candy” is a strong return that consolidates the sounds they have explored in the past three years and turns it into a bittersweet metaphor about the things we remember and the things we go back to. And it absolutely doesn’t hurt that IU penned the lyrics, adding a second layer of whimsy to the song—and a new level of credibility to the group.

The Last Dinner Party—“On Your Side”

Some of the talk surrounding the Last Dinner Party hasn’t been complimentary: they’re one of those groups that have been accused of being industry plants because they come from out of nowhere and suddenly have such strong critical buzz. (Haim also had that same fate a decade or so ago, which makes me wonder: it only really happens to female acts, right?) But the somewhat anachronistic chamber pop of this British five-piece does resonate in a year (and a half) of just crazy shit, and “On Your Side” reflects how we all want to go back to a simpler time even if we, and our politics, and our self-proclaimed beliefs, don’t say it out loud. This song has also put me on the verge of tears a few times. I easily cry this year, no?

Faye Webster—“Underdressed at the Symphony”

Faye Webster’s one of those artists I’ve been keeping more of an eye on over the past few years, and this year she released an album that takes her diverse influences and pulls them even closer into something definitely hers. Of course it’s the title track that does it best: “Underdressed at the Symphony” sees her plaintive singing, her country-fied R&B and her out-of-nowhere humor coalesce into something magical. And I’m not just talking about how that orchestral flourish takes this from what you’d expect from Faye into something that actively perverts Disney fairy tales. There’s a lot of this on Underdressed at the Symphony, almost my favorite album of the year…

Clairo—“Sexy to Someone” / “Add Up My Love”

…coming second only to Charm, a perfect coming together of warm AM pop memories and modern viral-hit sensibilities, without one or the other sticking out. Just think of how universal “Sexy to Someone” sounds like, even if you know it’s firmly rooted in the 2020s dating discourse I’ve been kicked out of. That said, am I cheating? Two Clairo tracks? I could easily have chosen one, but then this is a special case. I can’t include “Sexy to Someone” without also including “Add Up My Love”: someone online said the latter is essentially the second part to the former, and yes, you can make sense of how feeling good in a relatively shallow way can transition into something deeper. Damn it, these songs again.

Jungle—“Let’s Go Back”

I’m really liking the new-but-not-really direction that Jungle has taken of late. The British band have always had soul in their DNA, but with “Let’s Go Back”, I’m just feeling a bit more warmth in their sound, drawing me in even further. It does a lot despite just clocking under three minutes, not overstaying its welcome and yet making me feel like it’s been around forever. I don’t like repeats, but I wouldn’t mind hearing this repeatedly… at least until a new album drops. Maybe in 2025? I’m guessing; it’s a pretty safe bet; fingers crossed.

Ezra Collective—“God Gave Me Feet For Dancing” (featuring Yazmin Lacey)

Between the subdued nature of the song and the quietly jubilant music video, there’s something really hopeful about “God Gave Me Feet For Dancing”, the first offering off Ezra Collective’s Dance, No One’s Watching record. I think that’s why I was drawn towards it. I talk about songs that make me stifle a cry relatively often; this makes me want to look to the bright side and dare to smile, even. I mean, I’m not always a “sadboi”, whatever that means these days, but those feelings demand my attention more often, so I consider this a bit of a lifesaver. It doesn’t always work, but it’s nice to know it’s there.

Regal Lily—「キラキラの灰」 (Twinkling Ash)

I must have played Regal Lily’s contribution to the sleeper anime hit Delicious in Dungeon the most this year. It’s ostensibly about Marcille and Falin’s friendship, but of course it resonated with me. In a year where I felt I didn’t deserve to be happy more than ever before—being told by your better friends that you have to face things alone, before cutting you off, hurts a little more than being cheated on and gaslit by your ex—this song is cathartic at every level: the almost shoegazer vibe, the words about doing things differently, the emotional release towards the end. (The art that accompanies the song in the anime, illustrated by the source material’s author herself, Ryoko Kui, also helps.) This was supposed to kick off the playlist, but putting this at the end makes so much more sense. This perfectly captures this never-ending healing process I have to go through, their deadlines be damned.

And that’s it for the year… well, not really. I have one more of my regular monthly playlists dropping on 13 December, and maybe a year-end wrap after that. By then I’ll be on autopilot, and then we’ll do all this again in the new year. Whether you’ve been around before New Year’s Day or joined somewhere along the way, thank you for tuning in, and I hope you’ll still be along with me on this ride. I mean, frankly, doing this alone sucks.